The Courtship of Morrice Buckler: A Romance Read online

  CHAPTER II.

  I REACH LONDON, AND THERE MAKE AN ACQUAINTANCE.

  At Rotterdam I was fortunate enough to light upon a Dutch skipperwhose ship was anchored in the Texel, and who purposed sailing thatvery night for the Port of London. For a while, indeed, he scrupled toset me over, my lack of equipment--for I had not so much with me as aclean shirt--and my great haste to be quit of the country firing hissuspicions. However, I sold Swasfield's horse to the keeper of atavern by the waterside, and adding the money I got thereby to what Iheld in my pockets, I presently persuaded him; and a light windspringing up about midnight, we weighed anchor and stood out for thesea.

  That my purse was now empty occasioned me no great concern, since mycousin, Lord Elmscott, lived at London, in a fine house in MonmouthSquare, and I doubted not but what I could instantly procure from himthe means to enable me to continue my journey. I was, in truth,infinitely more distressed by the tardiness of our voyage, for towardssunrise the wind died utterly away, and during the next two days welay becalmed, rocking lazily upon the swell. On the afternoon of thethird, being the seventeenth day of the month, a breeze filled oursheets, and we made some progress, although our vessel, which was aketch and heavily loaded, was a slow sailer at the best. But duringthe night the breeze quickened into a storm, and, blowing for twelvehours without intermission or abatement, drove us clean from ourcourse, so that on the morning of the eighteenth we were scurryingnorthwards before it along the coast of Essex.

  This last misadventure cast me into the very bottom of despair. I knewthat if I were to prove of timely help in Julian's deliverance, I mustneeds reach Bristol before his trial commenced, the which seemed nowplainly impossible; and, atop of this piece of knowledge, my ignoranceof the nature of his calamity, and of the service he desired of me,worked in my blood like a fever.

  For Julian and myself were linked together in a very sweet andintimate love. I could not, and I tried, point to its beginning. Itseemed to have been native within us from our births. We took it fromour fathers before us, and when they died we counted it no small partof our inheritance. Our estates, you should know, lay in contiguousvalleys of the remote county of Cumberland, and thus we lived out ourboyhood in a secluded comradeship. Seldom a day passed but we found away to meet. Mostly Julian would come swinging across the fells, hisotter-dogs yapping at his heels, and all the fresh morning in hisvoice. Together we would ramble over the slopes, bathe in the tarnsand kelds, hunt, climb, argue, ay, and fight too, when we weregravelled for lack of arguments; so that even now, each time that Iturn my feet homewards after a period of absence, and catch the firstglimpse of these brown hillsides, they become bright and populous withthe rich pageantry of our boyish fancies.

  But my clearest recollections of those days centre about Scafell, anda certain rock upon the Pillar Mountain in Ennerdale. A common shareof peril is surely the stoutest bond of comradeship. You may findexemplars in the story of well-nigh every battle. But to hang half-wayup a sheer cliff in the chill eerie silence, where a slip of the heel,a falter of the numbed fingers, would hurl both your companion andyourself upon the stones a hundred yards below--ah, that turns thefriend into something closer than even a _frere d'armes_. At least, soit was with Julian and me.

  I think, too, that the very difference between us helped to fortifyour love. Each felt the other the complement of his nature. And inlater times, when Julian would come down from the Court to Oxford,tricked out in some new French fashion, and with all sorts offantastical conceits upon his tongue, my rooms seemed to glow as witha sudden shaft of sunlight; and after that he had gone I was ever intwo minds whether to send for a tailor, and follow him to Whitehall.

  But to return to my journey. On the nineteenth we changed our course,and tacked back to the mouth of the Thames. But it was not until theevening of the twentieth that we cast anchor by London Bridge. Fromthe ship I hurried straight to the house of my cousin, Lord Elmscott,who resided in Monmouth Square, to the north of the town, being mindedto borrow a horse of him and some money, and ride forthwith toBristol. The windows, however, were dark, not a light glimmeredanywhere; and knock with what noise I might, for a while I could getno answer to my summons.

  At last, just as I was turning away in no little distress of mind--forthe town was all strange to me, and I knew no one else to whom I couldapply at that late hour--a feeble shuffling step sounded in thepassage. I knocked again, and as loudly as I could; the steps drewnearer, the bolts were slowly drawn from their sockets, and the dooropened. I was faced by an old man in a faded livery, who held alighted candle in his hand. Behind him the hall showed black andsolitary.

  "I am Mr. Morrice Buckler," said I, "and I would have a word with mycousin, Lord Elmscott."

  The old man shook his head dolefully.

  "Nay, sir," he replied in a thin, quavering voice, "you do ill to seekhim here. At White's perchance you may light on him, or at Wood's, inPall Mall--I know not. But never in his own house while there is apack of cards abroad."

  I waited not to hear the rest of his complaint, but dashed down thesteps and set off westwards at a run. I crossed a lonely and noisomeplain which I have since heard is named the pest-field, for that manyof the sufferers in the late plague are buried there, and came out atthe top of St. James' Street. There a stranger pointed out to meWhite's coffeehouse.

  "Is Lord Elmscott within?" I asked of an attendant as I entered.

  For reply he looked me over coolly from head to foot.

  "And what may be your business with Lord Elmscott?" he asked, with asneer.

  In truth I must have cut but a sorry figure in his eyes, for I was alldusty and begrimed with my five days' travel. But I thought not ofthat at the time.

  "Tell him," said I, "that his cousin, Morrice Buckler, is here, andmust needs speak with him." Whereupon the man's look changed to one ofpure astonishment. "Be quick, fellow," I cried, stamping my foot; andwith a humble "I crave your pardon," he hurried off upon the message.A door stood at the far end of the room, and through this he entered,leaving it ajar. In a moment I heard my cousin's voice, loud andboisterous:

  "Show him in! 'Od's wounds, he may change my luck."

  With that I followed him. 'Twas a strange sight to me. The room wassmall, and the floor so thickly littered with cards that it needed thefeel of your foot to assure you it was carpeted. A number of gallantsin a great disorder of dress stood about a little table whereat wereseated a youth barely, I should guess, out of his teens, his facepale, but very indifferent and composed, and over against him mycousin. Elmscott's black peruke was all awry, his cheeks flushed, andhis eyes bloodshot and staring.

  "Morrice," he cried, "what brings you here in this plight? I believethe fellow took you for a bailiff, and, on my life," he added,surveying me, "I have not the impudence to blame him." Thereupon headdressed himself to the company. "This, gentlemen," says he, "is mycousin, Mr. Morrice Buckler, a very worthy--bookworm."

  They all laughed as though there was some wit in the ill-manneredsally; but I had no time to spare for taking heed of theirfoolishness.

  "You can do me a service," I said eagerly.

  "You give me news," Elmscott laughed. "'Tis a strange service that Ican render. Well, what may it be?"

  "I need money for one thing, and----" A roar of laughter broke in uponmy words.

  "Money!" cries Elmscott. "Lord, that any one should come to me formoney!" and he leaned back in his chair laughing as heartily as thebest of them. "Why, Morrice, it's all gone--all gone into the devil'swhirlpool. Howbeit," he went on, growing suddenly serious, "I willmake a bargain with you. Stand by my side here. I have it in my mindthat you will bring me luck. Stand by my side, and in return, if Iwin, I will lend you what help I may."

  "Nay, cousin," said I, "my business will not wait."

  "Nor mine," he replied, "nor mine. Stand by me! I shall not be long.My last stake's on the table."

  He seized hold of my arm
as he spoke with something of prayer in hiseyes, and reluctantly I consented. In truth, I knew not what else todo. 'Twas plain he was in no mood to hearken to my request, even if hehad the means to grant it.

  "That's right, lad!" he bawled, and then to the servant: "Brandy!Brandy, d'ye hear! And a great deal of it! Now, gentlemen, you willsee. Mr. Buckler is a student of Leyden. 'Tis full time that some goodluck should come to us from Holland."

  And he turned him again to the table. His pleasantry was received withan uproarious merriment, which methought it hardly merited. But I havenoted since that round a gaming-table, so tense is the spirit which itengenders, the poorest jest takes the currency of wit.

  I was at first perplexed by the difference of the stakes. Before mycousin lay a pair of diamond buckles, but no gold, not so much as asingle guinea-piece. All that there was of that metal lay in scatteredheaps beside his opponent.

  Lord Elmscott dealt the hands--the game was ecarte--and the othernodded his request for cards. Looking over my cousin's shoulder Icould see that he held but one trump, the ten, and a tierce to theking in another suit. For a little he remained without answering,glancing indecisively from his cards to the face of his player. Atlast, with a touch of defiance in his voice:

  "No!" he said. "Tis no hand to play on, but I'll trust to chance."

  "As you will," nodded the other, and he led directly into Elmscott'ssuit. Every one leaned eagerly forward, but each trick fell to mycousin, and he obtained the vole.

  "There! I told you," he cries.

  His opponent said never a word, but carelessly pushed a tinkling pileof coins across the table. And so the play went on; at the finish ofeach game a stream of gold drifted over to Lord Elmscott. It seemedthat he could not lose. If he played the eight, his companion wouldfollow with the seven.

  "He hath the devil at his back now," said one of the bystanders.

  "Pardon me!" replied my cousin very politely. "You insult Mr. Buckler.I am merely fortified with the learning of Leyden;" and he straightwaymarked the king. After a time the room fell to utter silence, evenElmscott stopped his outbursts. A strange fascination caught andenmeshed us all; we strained forward, holding our breaths as wewatched the hands, though each man, I think, was certain what the endwould be. For myself, I honestly struggled against this devilishenchantment, but to little purpose. The flutter of the cards made myheart leap. I sought to picture to myself the long dark road I had totraverse, and Julian in his prison at the end of it. I saw nothing butthe faces of the players, Elmscott's flushed and purple, hisopponent's growing paler and paler, while his eyes seemed to retreatinto his head and the pupils of them to burn like points of fire. Iloaded myself with reproaches and abuse, but the words ran through myhead in a meaningless sequence, and were tuned to a clink of gold.

  And then an odd fancy came over me. In the midst of the yellow heap,ever increasing, on our side of the table, lay the pair of diamondbuckles. I could see rays of an infinite variety of colours spirtingout like little jets of flame, as the light caught the stones, and Ifelt a queer conviction that Elmscott's luck was in some way bound upwith them. So strongly did the whim possess me that I lifted them fromthe table to test my thought. For so long as took the players to playtwo games, I held the buckles in my hands; and both games my cousinlost. I replaced them on the table, and he began to win once more withthe old regularity, the heaps dwindling there and growing here, untilat length all the money lay silted at my cousin's hand. You might havebelieved that a spell had been suddenly lifted from the company. Facesrelaxed and softened, eyes lost their keen light, feet shuffled in anew freedom, and the heavy silence was torn by a Babel of voices.Strangely enough, all joined with Elmscott in attributing his changeof fortune to my presence. Snuff-boxes were opened and their contentspressed upon me, and I think that I might have dined at no cost ofmyself for a full twelve months had I accepted the invitations Ireceived. But the cessation of the play had waked me to my ownnecessities, and I turned to my cousin.

  "Now," said I, but I got no further, for he exclaimed:

  "Not yet, Morrice! There's my house in Monmouth Square."

  "Your house?" I repeated.

  "There's the manor of Silverdale."

  "You have not lost that?" I cried.

  "Every brick of it," says he.

  "Then," says I in a quick passion, "you must win them back as best youmay. I'll bide no longer."

  "Nay, lad!" he entreated, laying hold of my sleeve. "You cannot meanthat. See, when you came in, I had but these poor buckles left. Theywere all my fortune. Stay but for a little. For if you go you take allmy luck with you. 'Am deadly sure of it."

  "I have stayed too long as it is" I replied, and wrenched myself freefrom his grasp.

  "Well, take what money you need! But you are no more than a stone," hewhimpered.

  "The philosopher's stone, then," said I, and I caught up a couple ofhandsfull of gold and turned on my heel. But with a sudden cry Istopped. For as I turned, I glanced across the table to his opponent,and I saw his face change all in a moment to a strangely grey andlivid colour. And to make the sight yet more ghastly, he still satbolt upright in his chair, without a gesture, without a motion, afigure of marble, save that his eyes still burned steadily beneath hisbrows.

  "Great God!" I cried. "He is dying."

  "It is the morning," he said in a quiet voice, which had yet a verythrilling resonance, and it flashed across me with a singularuneasiness that this was the first time that he had spoken during allthose hours.

  I turned towards the window, which was behind my cousin's chair.Through a chink of the curtains a pale beam of twilight streamed fullon to the youth's face. So long as I had stood by Elmscott's side, myback had intercepted it; but as I moved away I had uncovered thewindow, and it was the grey light streaming from it which had given tohim a complexion of so deathly and ashen a colour. I flung thecurtains apart, and the chill morning flooded the room. One shiver ranthrough the company like a breeze through a group of aspens, and itseemed to me that on the instant every one had grown old. The heavygildings, the yellow glare of the candles, the gaudy hangings aboutthe walls, seen in that pitiless light, appeared inexpressiblypretentious and vulgar; and the gentlemen with their leaden cheeks,their disordered perukes, and the soiled finery of their laces andruffles, no more than the room's fitting complement. A sickening qualmof disgust shot through me; the very air seemed to have grown acridand stale; and yet, in spite of all I stayed--to my shame be it said,I stayed. However, I paid for the fault--ay, ten times over, in theyears that were to come. For as I halted at the door to make mybow--my fingers were on the very handle--I perceived Lord Elmscottwith one foot upon his chair, and the buckles in his hand. Mypresentiment came back to me with the conviction of a creed. I knew--Iknew that if he failed to add those jewels to his stake, he wouldleave the coffeehouse as empty a beggar as when I entered it. I strodeback across the room, took them from his hand, and laid them on thetable. For a moment Elmscott stared at me in astonishment. Then I mustthink he read my superstition in my looks, for he said, clapping me onthe back:

  "You will make a gambler yet, Morrice," and he sat him down on hischair. I took my former stand beside him.

  "You will stay, Mr. Buckler?" asked his opponent.

  "Yes," I replied.

  "Then," he continued, in the same even voice, "I have a plan in myhead which I fancy will best suit the purposes of the three of us.Lord Elmscott is naturally anxious to follow his luck; you, Mr.Buckler, have overstayed your time; and as for me--well, it is nowWednesday morning, and a damned dirty morning, too, if I may judgefrom the countenances of my friends. We have sat playing here sincesix by the clock on Monday night, and I am weary. My bed calls for me.I propose then that we settle the bout with two casts of the dice. Onthe first throw I will stake your house in Monmouth Square against themoney you have before you. If I win there's an end. If you win, I willset the manor of Silverdale against your London house and yourprevious stake."

  A complete s
ilence followed upon his words. Even Lord Elmscott wastaken aback by the magnitude of the stakes. The youth's proposalgained, moreover, on the mind by contrast with his tone of tiredindifference. He seemed the least occupied of all that company.

  "I trust you will accept," he continued, speaking to my cousin withcourteous gentleness. "As I have said, I am very tired. Luck is onyour side, and, if I may be permitted to add, the advantage of thestakes."

  Elmscott glanced at me, paused for a second, and then, with a forcedlaugh:

  "Very well; so be it," he said. The dice were brought; he rattled themvigorously, and flung them down.

  "Four!" cried one of the gentlemen.

  "Damn!" said my cousin, and he mopped his forehead with hishandkerchief. His antagonist picked up the dice with inimitablenonchalance, barely shook them in the cup, and let them roll idly outon to the table.

  "Three!"

  Elmscott heaved a sigh of relief. The other stretched his arms abovehis head and yawned.

  "'Tis a noble house, your house in Monmouth Square," he remarked.

  At the second throw, Elmscott discovered a most nervous anxiety. Heheld the cup so long in his hand that I feared he would lose thecourage to complete the game. I felt, in truth, a personal shame athis indecision, and I gazed around with the full expectation of seeinga like feeling expressed upon the features of those who watched. Butthey wore one common look of strained expectancy. At last Elmscottthrew.

  "Nine!" cried one, and a low murmur of voices buzzed for an instantand suddenly ceased as the other took up the dice.

  "Two!"

  Both players rose as with one motion. Elmscott tossed down his throatthe brandy in his tumbler--it had stood by his side untasted since theearly part of the night--and then turned to me with an almosthysterical outburst.

  "One moment."

  It was the youth who spoke, and his voice rang loud and strong. Hisweariness had slipped from him like a mask. He bent across the tableand stretched out his arm, with his forefinger pointing at my cousin.

  "I will play you one more bout, Lord Elmscott. Against all that youhave won back from me to-night--the money, your house, your estate--Iwill pit my docks in the city of Bristol. But I claim one condition,"and he glanced at me and paused.

  "If it affects my cousin's presence----" Elmscott began.

  "It does not," the other interrupted. "'Tis a trivial condition--awhim of mine, a mere whim."

  "What is it, then?" I asked, for in some unaccountable way I was muchdisquieted by his change of manner, and dreaded the event of hisproposal.

  "That while your cousin throws you hold his buckles in your hands."

  It were impossible to describe the effect which this extraordinaryrequest produced. At any other time it would have seemed no more thanlaughable. But after these long hours of play we were all tinder to aspark of superstition. Nothing seemed too whimsical for belief. Luckhad proved so tricksy a sprite that the most trivial object might welltake its fancy and overset the balance of its favours. The fiercevehemence of the speaker, besides, breaking thus unexpectedly througha crust of equanimity, carried conviction past the porches of theears. So each man hung upon Elmscott's answer as upon the arbitramentof his own fortune.

  For myself, I took a quick step towards my cousin; but the youth shota glance of such imperious menace at me that I stopped shamefaced likea faulty schoolboy. However, Elmscott caught my movement and, I think,the look which arrested me.

  "Not to-day," he said, "if you will pardon me. I am over-tired myself,and would fain keep to our bargain." Thereupon he came over to me."Now, Morrice," he exclaimed, "it is your turn. You have the money.What else d'ye lack? What else d'ye lack?"

  "I need the swiftest horse in your stables," I replied.

  Elmscott burst into a laugh.

  "You shall have it--the swiftest horse in my stables. You shall e'entake it as a gift. Only I fear 'twill leave your desires unsatisfied."And he chuckled again.

  "Then," I replied, with some severity, for in truth his merrimentstruck me as ill-conditioned, "then I shall take the liberty ofleaving it behind at the first post on the Bristol Road."

  "The Bristol Road?" interposed the youth. "You journey to Bristol?"

  I merely bowed assent, for I was in no mood to disclose my purpose tothat company, and caught up my hat; but he gently took my arm and drewme into the window.

  "Mr. Buckler," he said, gazing at me the while with quiet eyes,"Fortune has brought us into an odd conjunction this night. I have somuch of the gambler within me as to believe that she will repeat thetrick, and I hope for my revenge."

  He held out his hand courteously. I could not but take it. For amoment we stood with clasped hands, and I felt mine tremble withinhis.

  "Ah!" he said, smiling curiously, "you believe so, too." And he mademe a bow and turned back into the room.

  I remained where he left me, gazing blindly out of the window; for theshadow of a great trouble had fallen across my spirit. His words andthe concise certainty of his tone had been the perfect voicing of myown forebodings. I did indeed believe that Fortune would some day pitus in a fresh antagonism; that somewhere in the future she had alreadyset up the lists, and that clasp of the hands I felt to be our bondand surety that we would keep faith with her and answer to our names.

  "Morrice," said Elmscott at my elbow, and I started like one wakedfrom his sleep, "we'll go saddle your horse."

  And he laughed to himself again as though savouring a jest. He slippedan arm through mine and walked to the door.

  "Good morning, gentlemen," he said. "Marston, _au revoir!_" And with atwirl of his hat, he stepped into the outer room. His servant wassleeping upon a bench, and he woke him up and bade him fetch the moneyand follow home.

  The morning was cold, and we set off at a brisk pace towards MonmouthSquare, Elmscott chatting loudly the while, with ever and again, Ithought, a covert laugh at me.

  I only pressed on the harder. It was not merely that I was vexed byhis quizzing demeanour; but the moment I was free from that tawdryhell, and began to breathe fresh air in place of the heavy reek ofperfumes and wine, the fulness of my disloyalty rolled in upon myconscience, so that Elmscott's idle talk made me sicken withrepulsion; for he babbled ever about cards and dice and the femininecaprice of luck.

  "What ails you, Morrice?" at length he inquired, seeing that I had nostomach for his mirth. "You look as spiritless as a Quaker."

  "I was thinking," I replied, in some irritation, for he clapped me onthe back as he spoke, "that it must be sorely humiliating for a man ofyour age either to win money or lose it when you have a mere striplingto oppose you."

  "A man of my age, indeed!" he exclaimed. "And what age do you take tobe mine, Mr. Buckler?"

  He turned his face angrily towards me, and I scanned it with greatdeliberation.

  "It would not be fair," I answered, with a shake of the head. "Itwould not be fair for me to hazard a guess. Two nights at play maywell stamp middle-age upon youth, and decrepitude upon middle-age."

  At this he knew not whether to be mollified or yet more indignant, andso did the very thing I had been aiming at--he held his tongue. Thuswe proceeded in a moody silence until we were hard by Soho. Then heasked suddenly:

  "What drags you in such a scurry to Bristol?"

  "I would give much to know myself," I answered. "I journey thither atthe instance of a friend who lies in dire peril. But that is the wholesum of my knowledge. I have not so much as a hint of the purport of myservice."

  "A friend! What friend?" he inquired with something of a start, andlooked at me earnestly.

  "Sir Julian Harnwood," said I, and he stopped abruptly in his walk.

  "Ah!" he said; then he looked on the ground, and swore a little tohimself.

  "You know what threatens him?" said I; but he made me no answer andresumed his walk, quickening his pace. "Tell me!" I entreated. "Hisservant came to me at Leyden six days ago, but was seized by afit or ever he could out with his message. So I learnt no
more thanthis--that Julian lies in Bristol gaol and hath need of me."

  "But the assizes begin to-day," he interrupted, with an air oftriumph. "You are over-late to help him."

  "Ah, no!" I pleaded. "I may yet reach there in time. Julian may haplybe amongst the last to come to trial?"

  "'Twere most unlikely," returned he, with a snap of his teeth. "MyLord Jeffries wastes no time in weighing evidence. Why, at Taunton,but a fortnight ago, one hundred and forty-five prisoners weredisposed of within three days. The man does not try; he executes.There's but one outlook for your friend, and that's through the nooseof a rope. Jeffries holds a strict mandate from the King, I tell you,for the King's heart is full of anger against the rebels."

  "But Julian was no rebel," I exclaimed.

  "Tut, tut, lad!" he replied. "If he was no rebel himself, he harbouredrebels. If he didn't flesh his sword at Sedgemoor, he gave shelter tothose that did. And 'tis all one crime, I tell you. Hair-splitting isheld in little favour at the Western Assizes."

  "But are you sure of this?" I asked. "Or is it pure town gossip?"

  "Nay," said he, "I have the news hot from Marston. He should know,eh?"

  "Marston?" said I.

  "Yes! The"--and he paused for a second, and smiled at me--"the _man_who played with me. 'Tis his sister that's betrothed to Harnwood."

  _His_ sister! The blood chilled in my veins. I had been aware, ofcourse, that Julian was affianced to a certain Miss Marston of thecounty of Gloucestershire. But I had never set eyes upon her personand knew little of her history, beyond that she had been one of theladies in attendance upon the Queen prior to her accession to thethrone; I mean when she was still the Duchess of York. Miss Marstonwas, in fact, a mere name to me; and since consequently she held noplace in my thoughts, it had not occurred to me to connect her in anyway with this chance acquaintance of the gaming-table. Now, however,the relationship struck me with a peculiar and even menacingsignificance. It recalled to me the few words Marston had spoken inthe window; and, lo! not half an hour after their utterance, here was,as it were, a guarantee of their fulfilment. Between Marston andmyself there already existed, then, a certain faint accidentalconnection. I felt that I had caught a glimpse of the cord which wasto draw us together.

  Elmscott's voice broke in upon my imaginings.

  "So, Morrice, I have sure knowledge to back my words. No good can comeof your journey, though harm may, and it will fall on you. 'Twere bestto stay quietly in London. You may think your hair grey, but you willnever save Julian Harnwood from the gallows."

  My cheeks burned as I heard him, for my thoughts had been hummingbusily about my own affairs, and not at all about Julian's; and with abitter shame, "God!" I cried, "that I should fail him so! Surely neverwas a man so misused as my poor friend! He is the very sport andshuttlecock of disaster. First his messenger must needs fall sick;then my boat must take five days to cross to England. And to cap itall, I must waste yet another night in a tavern or ever I can borrow ahorse to help me on my way."

  By this time we had got to Elmscott's house. He drew a key from hispocket and mounted the steps thoughtfully, and I after him. On thelast step, however, he turned, and laying a hand upon my shoulder, asI stood below him, said, with a very solemn gravity: "There is God'shand in all this. He doth not intend you should go. In His greatwisdom He doth not intend it. He would punish the guilty, and He wouldspare you who are innocent."

  "But what harm can come to me?" I cried, with a laugh; though, indeed,the laugh was hollow as the echo of an empty house.

  "That lies in the dark," said he. "But 'tis no common aid JulianHarnwood asks from you. He has friends enough in England. Why shouldhe send to Holland when his time's so short?" And then he added withmore insistent earnestness: "Don't go, lad! If any one could avail,'twould be Marston. He has power in Bristol. And you see, he bidesquietly in London."

  "But methinks he was never well-disposed to Julian," said I,remembering certain half-forgotten phrases of my friend. "He lookedbut sourly on the marriage."

  "Very well," said he, with a shrug of the shoulders. "Must make yourown bed;" and he opened the door, and led me through the hall and intoa garden at the back. At the far end of this the stables were built,and we crossed to them. "The rascals are still asleep," he remarked,and proceeded to waken them with much clanging of the bell and shoutsof abuse. In a while we heard a heavy step stumbling down the stair.

  "I had meant to have a fine laugh at you over this," said Elmscott,with a rueful smile. "But I have no heart for it now that I know yourerrand."

  An ostler, still blinking and drowsy, opened the door. He rubbed hiseyes at the sight of his master.

  "Don't stand gaping, you fish!" cried my cousin. "Whom else did youexpect to see? Show us to the stables."

  The fellow led us silently into the stables. A long row of boxes stoodagainst the wall, all neatly littered with straw, but to myastonishment and dismay, so far as I could see, not one of them held ahorse.

  "She's at the end, sir," said the groom; and we walked down the lengthof the boxes, and halted before the last.

  "Get up, lass!" and after a few pokes the animal rose stiffly from itsbed. For a moment I well-nigh cried from sheer mortification. Never inall my comings and goings since have I seen such a parody of Nature,not even in the booths of a country fair. 'Twas of a piebald colour,and stood very high, with long thin legs. Its knees were, moreover,broken. It had a neck of extraordinary length, and a huge, absurd headwhich swung pendulous at the end of it, and seemed by its weight tohave dragged the beast out of shape, for the line of its back slanteddownwards from its buttocks to its shoulders.

  "This is no fair treatment," I exclaimed hotly. "Elmscott, I deservebetter at your hands. 'Tis an untimely jest, and you might well havespared yourself the pleasure of it."

  "And the name of her's Ph[oe]be," he replied musingly. "'Tis her onegood point."

  He spoke with so droll a melancholy that I had some ado to refrainfrom laughing, in spite of my vexation.

  "But," said I, "surely this is not all your equipage?"

  "Nay," returned he proudly, "I have its saddle and bridle. But for therest of my horses, I lost them all playing basset with Lord Culverton.He took them away only yesterday morning, but left me the mare, sayingthat he had no cart for her conveyance."

  "Well," said I, "I must e'en make shift with her. She may carry me onestage."

  And I walked out of the stables and back into the hall. Elmscott badehis groom saddle the mare and followed me, but I was too angry tospeak with him, and seated myself sullenly at a table. However, hefetched a pie from the pantry and a bottle of wine, and set thembefore me. I had eaten nothing since I had disembarked the nightbefore, and knowing, besides, that I had a weary day in store, I fellto with a good appetite. Elmscott opened the door. The sun had justrisen, and a warm flood of light poured into the hall and brightenedthe dark panels of the walls. With that entered the sound of birdssinging, the rustle of trees, and all the pleasant garden-smells of afresh September morning. And at once a great hope sprang up in myheart that I might yet be in time to prove the minister of Julian'sneed. I heard the sound of hoofs on the road outside.

  "Lend me a whip!" I cried.

  "You are still set on going?"

  "Lend me a whip!"

  He offered me an oak cudgel.

  "Ph[oe]be has passed her climacteric, and her perceptions are dull,"he said; and then with a sudden change of manner he laid his hand onmy shoulder. "'Twere best not to go," he declared earnestly. "Thosewho bring luck to others seldom find great store of it themselves."

  But in the sweet clearness of the morning such thoughts seemed to meno more than night vapours, and I sprang down the steps with a laugh.The mare shivered as I mounted, and swung her head around as thoughshe would ask me what in the devil's name I was doing on her back. ButI thwacked her flanks with the cudgel, and she ambled heavily throughthe square. I turned to look behind me. Elmscott was still standing onthe steps.

 
"Morrice," he called out, "be kind to her! She is an heirloom."