 CHAPTER 45 THE THING IS JUST Was there ever such a man, said Mr. Mordox to himself as he rode back to Flamborough against the bitter wind, after fiddling the affairs of the poor caraways, as well as might be for the present? As if I had not got my hands too full already, now I am in for another plaguesome business, which will cost a lot of money, instead of bringing money in. How many people have I now to look after? In the first place, two vile wretches, Rick and Gould, the ship scuddler, and John Cadman, the murderer. Supposing that Dr. Up-and-Down and Mrs. Caraway are right, then two drunken tires with one leg between them, who may get scared of the law and cut and run. Then an outlawed smuggler, who has cut and run already, and a gentleman from India, who will be wild with disappointment through the things that have happened since I saw him last. After that a lawyer who will fight tooth and nail, of course, because it brings grist to his mill. That makes seven. And now to all these I have added number eight, and that the worst of all. Not only a woman, but a downright mad one, as well as seven starving children. Charity is a thing that pays so slowly, that this poor creature should lose her head just now as most unfortunate. I have nothing whatever to lay before Sir Duncan, when I tell him of this vile catastrophe except the boy's own assertion, and the opinion of Dr. Up-and-Down. Well, well, faint heart, etc., I must nurse the people round. Without me they would all have been dead. Virtue is its own reward. I hope the old lady has not burned my hair to death. The factor might well say that without his aid that large family must have perished. Her neighbors were not to be blamed for this being locked out of the house and having no knowledge of the frost and famine that prevailed within. Perhaps when the little ones began to die Geraldine might have escaped from a window and got help in time to save some of them, if she herself had any strength remaining. But as it was, she preferred to sacrifice herself and obey her mother. Father always told me, she had said, Mr. Mordox, when he asked her how so sharp a child could let things come to such a pitch, that when he was out of the way the first thing I was to mind always was to do what mother told me, and now he can't come back no more to let me off from doing it. By this time the cod with the hook in his gills was as much at the mercy of Mr. Mordox as if he had landed and were crimping him. Gerald Precious was a very tough lady to get over, and she liked to think the worse she could of everybody, which proves in the end that the most charitable course, because of the good will produced by explanation, and for some time she had stood in the flamburian attitude of doubt toward the factor. But even the flamburian may be at last pierced, and then, as with other peccadermatous animals, the whole once made is almost certain to grow larger. So by dent of good offices here and there, kind interest in great industry among a very simple and grateful race, he became the St. Oswald of that ancient shrine, as already has been hinted, and might do as he liked, even on the Sabbath day. And as one of the first things he always liked to do was to enter into everybody's business he got into an intricacy of little knowledge too manifold even for his many-fibred brain. But some of this ran into and strengthened his main clue, leading into the story he was laboring to explore, and laying before him as bright as a diamond, even the mystery of earrings. "'My highly valued hostess and admirable cook,' he said to widow Precious after making noble dinner, which his long snowy ride and work at Bridelington had earned, and your knowledge of the annals of this interesting town, happened you to be able to recall the name of a certain man, John Cadman.' "'Ah, that idea,' widow Tapsee answered, with a heavy sigh which rattled all the dishes on the waiter, "'And sma good on—and sma good on—sma good, whatever—Giroudwion!' The landlady shut her firm lips with a smack, which Mordax well knew by this time though seldom foreclosed by it now, as he had been before he became a Danish citizen. He was sure that she had some good reason for her silence. And the next day he found that the girl who had left her home, through Cadman's villainy, was akin by her mother's side to Mistress Precious. But he had another matter to discuss with her now which caused some misgivings yet had better be faced manfully. In the safe philosophical distance of York from the strong landlady he had, for good reasons of his own, appointed the place of meeting with Sir Duncan Yordus at the rival hostelry, the Inn of Thornwick. Widow Precious had a mind of uncommonly large types so lofty and pure of all petty emotions, that if any one spoke of the Thornwick Inn even upon her back premises, her dignity stepped in and said, I can't abide the stinking name of this persistently noble regard of a lower institution Mr. Mordax was well aware, and it gave him pause in his deep anxiety to spare a tender heart and maintain the high standard of his breakfast kidneys. Madam! he began and then he rubbed his mouth with the cross-cut out of the jack-towel by the sink, newly set on table to satisfy him for a dinner napkin. Madam, will you listen while I make an explanation? The landlady looked at him with dark, suspicious gathering. Juice Spankoot! she said, but here's workin' into mind. I am bound to meet a gentleman near Flamborough to-morrow. Mr. Mordax continued with the effrontery of guilt, who will come from the sea, and as it would not suit him to walk far inland he has arranged for the interview at a poor little place called the thorny wick, or the stubbly wick, or something of that sort. I thought it was due to you, Madam, to explain the reason of my entering, even for a moment. I don't care, sith! they must fettle thee there, if thou'st fawn head anew. Without another word she left the room clattering her heavy shoes at the door, and Mordax foresaw a sad encounter on the morrow. Without a good breakfast to fettle him for it. It was not in his nature to dread anything much, and he could not see where he had been all to blame. But gladly would he have taken ten percent off his old contract and meet Sir Duncan Yordus with the news he had to tell him. One cause of the righteous indignation felt by the good Mother Tapsee was her knowledge that nobody could land just now in any cove under the thorny wick hotel. With the turbulent snow in, bringing in the sea as now as it had been doing for several days, even the fisherman's cobbles could not take the beach, much less any stranger craft. Mr. Mordax was sharp, but an inland factor is apt to overlook such little fax, marine. Upon the following day he stood in the best room of the thorn wick inn, which even then was a very decent place to any eyes uncast with envy, and he saw the long billows of the ocean rolling before the steady blowing of the salt-tongued wind, and the broad white valleys that between them lay, and the vaporous generation of great waves. They seemed to have little gift of power for themselves, and no sign of any heed of pervert, only to keep at proper distance from each other, and threaten to break over long before they meant to do it. But to see what they did at the first opposition of reef, or crag, or headland bluff was a cure for any delusion about them, or faith in their liquid benevolence, for spouts of wild fury dashed up into the clouds and the shore, wherever any sight of it was left, weltered in a sadly frothsome state, like the chin of a titan with a lather brush at work. Why, plus my heart, cried the keen-eyed Mordax, this is a check I never thought of. Nobody could land in such a surf as that, even if he had conquered all India. Landlord, do you mean to tell me any one could land? And if not, what's the use of your inn standing here? Naw, sir, nobody could long just knew. The astwas, not to cower, Naw yelled to dry hisson. The landlord was pleased with his own wit, perhaps by reason of its scarcity, and went out to tell it in the taproom while fresh, and Mordax had made up his mind to call for something, for the good of the house and himself, and return with a sense of escape to his own inn. When the rough frozen road rang with vehement iron and a horse was pulled up and a man strode in. The landlord, having told his own joke three times, came out with the taste of it upon his lips, but the stern dark eyes looking down into his turned his smile into a frightened stare. He had so much to think of that he could not speak, which happens not only at Flamborough, but this visitor did not wait for the solution of his mental stutter. Without any rudeness he passed the mooning host and walked into the parlor where he hoped to find two persons. Instead of two he found one only, and that one standing with his back to the door, and by the snow-flect window intent upon the drizzly distance of the wind-struck sea. The attitude and fixed regard were so unlike the usual vivacity of Mordax that the visitor thought that there must be some mistake, till the other turned round and looked at him. You see, a defeated, but not a beaten man! said the factor to get through the worst of it. Thank you, sir Duncan, I will not shake hands. My ambition was to do so, and to put into yours another hand, more near and dear to it. Sir, I have failed, it is open to you to call me by any hard name that may occur to you. That will do you good, be a hearty relief, and restore me rapidly to self-respect, by arousing my anxiety to vindicate myself. It is no time for joking. I came here to meet my son. Have you found him, or have you not? Sir Duncan sat down and gazed steadfastly at Mordax. His self-command had borne many hard trials, but the prime of his life was over now, and strong as he looked and thought himself, the searching wind had sought and found weak places in a sun-beaten frame, but no man would be of noble aspect by dwelling at all upon himself. The quick intelligence of Mordax, who was of smaller, though admirable type, entered into these things at a flash, and throughout their interview he thought less of himself, and more of another than was at all habitual with him, or conducive to good work. You must bear with a very heavy blow," he said, and it goes to my heart to have to deal it. Sir Duncan Yordis bowed and said, the sooner the better, my good friend. I have found your son, as I promised you I would," replied Mordax, speaking rapidly, healthy, active, uncommonly clever, a very fine sailor, and as brave as Nelson, of gallant appearance, as might be expected, enterprising, steadfast, respected and admired, benevolent in private life, and a public benefactor, a youth of whom the most distinguished father might be proud, but—but—but—will you ever finish? But by the force of circumstances over which he had no control he became, in early days, a smuggler, and rose to an eminent rank in that profession. I do not care too pice for that, though I should have been sorry if he had not risen. He rose to such eminence as to become the high admiral of smugglers on this coast and attain the honors of outlawry. I look upon that as a pity, but still we may be able to rescind it. Anything more against my son? Unluckily there is. A commander of the Coast Guard has been killed in the discharge of his duty, and Robin Leith has left the country to escape a warrant. What have we to do with Robin Leith? I have heard of him everywhere, a villain, and a murderer. God forbid that you should say so. Robin Leith is your only son. The man whose word was law to myriads rose without a word for his own case. He looked at his agent with a stern calm gaze and not a sign of trembling in his lull broad frame, unless perhaps his under-lip gave a little soft vibration to the grizzled beard grown to meet the change of climate. Unhappily so it is, said Mordox, firmly meeting Sir Duncan's eyes. I have proved the matter beyond dispute, and I wish I had better news for you. I thank you, sir. You could not well have worse. I believe it upon your word alone. No Mordox ever yet had pleasure of a son. The thing is quite just. I will order my horse. Sir Duncan, allow me a few minutes first. You are a man of large judicial mind. Do you ever condemn any stranger upon Broomer? And will you upon that condemn your son? Certainly not. I proceed upon my knowledge of the fate between father and son in our race. That generally has been the father's fault. In this case, you are the father. Sir Duncan turned back, being struck with this remark. Then he sat down again, which his ancestors had always refused to do, and had rude it. He spoke very gently with a sad, faint smile. I scarcely see how, in the present case, the fault can be upon the father's side. Not as yet, I grant you, but it would be so if the father refused to hear out the matter, and joined in a general outcry against his son, without even having seen him or afforded him a chance of self-defense. I am not so unjust or unnatural as that, sir. I have heard much about this sad occurrence in the cave. There could be no question that the smuggler slew the officer. That very unfortunate young man may not have done it himself. I trust in God that he did not even mean it. Nevertheless, in the eye of the law, if he were present, he is as guilty as if his own hand did it. Can you contend that he was not present? Unhappily I cannot. He himself admits it. And if he did not, it could be proved most clearly. Then all that I can do, said sir Duncan, rising with a heavy sigh and a violent shiver caused by the chill of his long, bleak ride, is first to require your proofs, Mr. Mordox, as to the identity of my child, who sailed from India with this, this unfortunate youth, then to give you a check for five thousand pounds, and thank you for the skillful offices and great confidence in my honour. Then I shall leave you with what some you may think needful for the defence if he is ever brought to trial, and probably after that, still, I shall even go back to end my life in India. My proofs are not arranged yet, but they will satisfy you. I shall take no five thousand pounds from you, sir Duncan, though strictly speaking I have earned it, but I will take one thousand to cover past and future outlay, including the possibility of a trial. The balance I shall live to claim yet, I do believe, and you to discharge it with great pleasure, for that will not be until I bring you a son, not only acquitted, but also guiltless, as I have good reason for believing him to be. But you do not look well. Let me call for something. No, thank you. It is nothing. I am quite well, but not quite seasoned to my native climate yet. Tell me your reasons for believing that. I cannot do that in a moment. You know what evidence is a hundred times as well as I do. And in this cold room you must not stop. Sir Duncan, I am not a coddler any more than you are, and I do not presume to dictate to you, but I am as resolute a man as yourself, and I refuse to go further with this subject until you are thoroughly warmed and refreshed. Mardax, you shall have your way, said his visitor after a heavy frown, which produced no effect upon the factor. You are as kind-hearted as you are shrewd. Tell me once more what your conviction is, and I will wait for your reasons, till you are ready. Then, sir, my settled conviction is that your son is purely innocent of this crime, and that we shall be able to establish that. God bless you for thinking so, my dear friend. I can bear a great deal, and I would do my duty. But I did love that boy's mother so. The general factor always understood his business, and he knew that no part of it compelled him now to keep watch upon the eyes of a stern, proud man. Sir, I am your agent, and I magnify my office. He said as he took up his hat to go forth, one branch of my duty is to fettle your horse, and in flamborough they fettle them on stale fish. Mr. Mardax strode with a military tramp and a loud shout for the landlord, who had finished his joke by this time and was paying the penalties of reaction. Gilbill be thus no but the forded! He was saying to himself, Do man have thy little joke, thought it cracking with thy own pure back? For he thought that he was driving two great customers away by the flashing independence of two brilliant a mind, and many clever people of his native place had told him so. Make a roaring fire in that room, said Mardax. CHAPTER 46 STUMPED OUT I think, my dear, that you never should allow mysterious things to be doing in your parish, and everybody full of curiosity about them, while the only proper person to explain their meaning is allowed to remain without any more knowledge than a man locked up in your castle might have. In spite of all the weather and the noise the sea makes I feel quite certain that important things which never have any right to happen in our parish are going on here, and you never interfere, which on the part of the rector and the magistrate of the neighbourhood, to my mind is not the proper course of action. I am sure that I have not the very smallest curiosity, I feel very often that I should have asked questions, then it has become too late to do so, and when anybody else would have put them at the moment and not had to be sorry afterward. I understand that feeling. Dr. O'Brown answered, looking at his wife for the third cup of coffee to wind up his breakfast as usual. And without hesitation I reply that it naturally arises in superior natures. Janetta, you have eaten up that bit of broiled hake that I was keeping for your dear mother. Now, really, Papa, you are too crafty. You put my mother off with a wretch of generality because you don't choose to tell her anything. And to stop me from coming to the rescue you attack me with a miserable little personality. I perceive by your face, Papa, every trick that rises, and without hesitation I reply that they naturally arise in inferior natures. Janetta, you never express yourself well. Mrs. O'Brown insisted upon failure of respect. When I say well, I mean—well—well—well, you know quite well what I mean, Janetta. To be sure, Mama, I always do. You always mean the very best meaning in the world. But you are not up to half of Papa's tricks yet. This is too bad," cried the father with a smile. "'A great deal too bad,' said the mother with a frown. I am sure I would never have asked a word of anything if I could ever have imagined such behavior. Go away, Janetta, this very moment your dear father evidently wants to tell me something. Now, my dear, you were too sleepy last night, but your peace of mind requires you to unburden itself at once of all these very mysterious goings-on. Well, perhaps I shall have no peace of mind unless I do," said the rector with a slight sarcasm which missed her altogether. Only it might save trouble, my dear, if you would first specify the points which oppress your, or rather, I should say, perhaps my mind so much. "'In the first place, then,' began Mrs. Uprown, drawing nearer to the doctor, "'who is that highly distinguished stranger who cannot get away from the Thornwick Inn? What made him come to such a place in dreadful weather, and if he is ill, why not send for Dr. Stirback's? Mr. Stirback's will think it most unkind of you, and after all he did for Janetta. And then, again, what did the milkman from Surby mean by the way he shook his head this morning about something in the family at the Annerley Farm? And what did that most unaccountable man who calls himself Mr. Mordax, though I don't believe that is his name at all? Yes, it is, my dear, you never should say such things. He is well known at York, and for miles around, and I entertain very high respect for him. So you may, Dr. Uprown, you do that too freely, but Janetta quite agrees with me about him, a man with a sword that goes slashing about and kills a rat that was none of his business, a more straightforward creature than himself, I do believe, though he struts like a soldier with a ramrod. And what did he mean in such horrible weather by dragging you out to take a deposition in a place even colder than Flamborough itself? That vile rabbit-worn on the other side of Benton, deposition of a man who had drunk himself to death, and a Methodist, too, as you could not help saying? I said it, I know, and I am ashamed of saying it. I was miserably cold and much annoyed about my coat. You never say anything to be ashamed of. It is when you do not say things that you should rather blame yourself. For instance, I feel no curiosity whatever but a kindhearted interest in the doings of my neighbours. We very seldom get any sort of excitement, and when exciting things come all together, quite within the hearing of our stable bell, to be left to guess them out, and perhaps be contradicted, destroys one's finest feelings and produces downright visits. My dear, my dear, you really should endeavour to emancipate yourself from such small ideas. Large words shall never divert me from my duty. My path of duty is distinctly traced, and if thwarting hand withdraws me from it, it must end in a billowous headache. This was a terrible menace to the household, which was always thrown out of its course for three days when the lady became thus afflicted. My first duty is to my wife, said the rector. If people come into my parish with secrets which come to my knowledge without my desire and without official obligation, and the faithful and admirable partner of my life threatens to be quite unwell. Ill, dear, very ill, is what would happen to me. Then I consider that my duty is to impart to her everything that cannot lead to mischief. How could you have any doubt of it, my dear? And as to the mischief, I am the proper judge of that. Dr. Upram laughed, and is quiet in her way, and then, as a matter of form, he said, my dear, you must promise most faithfully to keep whatever I tell you as the very strictest secret. Mrs. Upram looked shocked at the mere idea of her ever doing otherwise, which indeed, as she said, was impossible. Her husband very nearly looked as if he quite believed her, and then they went into his snug sitting-room, while the maid took away the breakfast-things. Now, don't keep me waiting, said the lady. Well, then, my dear, the rector began after crossing stout legs stoutly, you must do your utmost not to interrupt me, and, in short, to put it courteously, you must try to hold your tongue, and suffer much astonishment and silence. We have a most distinguished visitor in Flamborough setting up his staff at the Thornwick Hotel. Lord Nelson, I knew it must be, Janetta is so quick at things. Janetta is too quick at things, and she is utterly crazy about Nelson. No, it is the famous Sir Duncan Yordus. Sir Duncan Yordus? Why I never heard of him. You will find that you have heard of him when you come to think, my dear. Our Harry is full of his wonderful doings. He is one of the foremost men in India, though perhaps little heard of in this country yet. He belongs to an ancient Yorkshire family and is, I believe, the head of it. He came here looking for his son, but has caught a most terrible chill instead of him. And I think we ought to send him some of your rare soup. How sensible you are! It will be the very thing, but first of all, what character does he bear? They do such things in India. His character is spotless, I might say, too romantic. He is a man of magnificent appearance, large mind, and lots of money. My dear, my dear, he must never stay there. I shudder to think of it this weather. A chill is a thing upon the kidneys always. You know my electuary, and if we bring him round, it is high time for Janetta to begin to think of settling. My dear, said Dr. Upram, how suddenly you jump! I must put on my spectacles to look at you. This gentleman must be getting on for fifty. Janetta should have a man of some discretion. Somebody she would not dare to snap at. Her expressions are so reckless that a young man would not suit her. She ought to have someone to look up to. And you know how she raves about fame and celebrity and that? She really seems to care for very little else. Then she ought to have fallen in love with Robin Leith, the most famous man in all this neighborhood. Dr. Upram, you say things on purpose to provoke me when my remarks are unanswerable. Robin Leith indeed. A sailor, smuggler, a common working man, and under that terrible accusation. An objectionable party altogether, not even desirable as a grandson. Therefore say nothing more of Janetta and Sir Duncan. Sometimes, my dear, the chief object of your existence seems to be to irritate me. What can poor Robin have to do with Sir Duncan Yordes? Simply this. He is his only son. The proofs were completed and deposited with me for safe custody. Last night, by the very active man of business, Jeffrey Mordox of York City. cried Mrs. Upram with both hands lifted in a high color flowing into her unwrinkled cheeks. From this day forth I shall never have any confidence in you again. How long, if I may dare to put any sort of question, have you been getting into all this very secret knowledge? And why have I never heard a word of it till now? And not even now, I do believe, through any proper urgency of conscience on your part, but only because I insisted upon knowing. Oh, Dr. Upram, for shame, for shame! My dear, you have no one but yourself to blame, her husband replied with a sweet and placid smile, three times I have told you things that were to go no further, and all three of them went twenty miles within three days. I do not complain of it, far less of you. You may have felt it quite as much your duty to spread knowledge as I felt at mine to restrict it. And I never should have let you get all this out of me now, if it had been at all incumbent upon me to keep it quiet. That means that I have never got it out of you at all. I have taken all this trouble for nothing. No, my dear, not at all. You have worked well and have promised not to say a word about it. You might not have known it for a week at least, except for my confidence in you. Much of it I thank you for, but don't be cross, my dear, because you have behaved so atrociously. You have not answered half of my questions yet. Well, there were so many that I scarcely can remember them. Let me see. I have told you who the great man is, and the reason that brought him to Flamborough. Even about the dangerous chill he has taken, it came through a bitter ride from Scarborough. And if Dr. Sturback's came, he would probably make it still more dangerous, at least so Mordak says, and the patient is in his hands and out of mind so that Sturback's can not be aggrieved with us. On the other hand, as to the milkman from Surby, I really do not know why he shook his head. Perhaps he found the big pump frozen. He is none of my parish, and may shake his head without asking my permission. Now I think that I have answered nearly all of your questions. Not at all. I have not had time to ask them yet, because I feel so much above them. But if the milkman meant nothing because of his not belonging to our parish, the butcher does, and he can have no excuse. He says that Mr. Mordak's takes all the best meanings of a mutton sheep every other day to Burlington. I know he does, and it ought to put us to the blush that the stranger should have to do so. Mordak's is finding clothes, food, and firing for all the little creatures poor caraway left, and even for his widow who has got a wandering mind. Without him there would not have been one left. The poor mother locked in all her little ones and starved them to save them from some quite imaginary foe. The neighbors began to think of interfering and might have begun to do it when it was all over. Happily Mordak's arrived just in time. His promptitude, skill, and generosity saved them. Never say a word against that man again. My dear, I will not!" This is up-round answered with tears coming into her kindly eyes. I had never heard of anything more pitiful. I had no idea Mr. Mordak's was so good. He looks more like an evil spirit. I always regarded him as an evil spirit, and his name sounds like it, and he jumps about so. But he ought to have gone to the rector of the parish. It is a happy thing that he can jump about. The rector of the parish cannot do so, as you know. And he lives two miles away from them, and had never even heard of it. People always talk about the rector of a parish as if he could be everywhere and see to everything, and few of them come near to him in their prosperous times. Have you any other questions to put to me, my dear? Yes, a quantity of things which I cannot think of now. How is it that that little boy, I remember it like yesterday, came ashore here and turned out to be Robin Leith, or at least to be no Robin Leith at all, but the son of Sir Duncan Yordus. And what happened to the poor man in Bempton Warren? The poor man died a most miserable death. But I trust sincerely penitent. He had led a sad, ungodly life, and he died at last of wooden legs. He was hunted to his grave, he told us, by these wooden legs, and he recognized in them divine retribution, for the sin of his life was committed in timber. No sooner did any of those legs appear, and the poor fellow said that they were always coming. Then his heart began to patter, and his own legs failed him, and he tried to stop his ears, but his conscience would not let him. Now there, cried Mrs. Upround, what the power of conscience is! He had stolen choice timber, perhaps ready-made legs. A great deal worse than that, my dear, he had knocked out a knot as large as my shovel-hat, from the side of a ship homebound from India, because he was going to be tried for mutiny upon their arrival at Leith, it was, I think. He and his partners had been in irons, but unluckily they were just released. The weather was magnificent, a lovely summer's night, soft fair breeze, and everyone rejoicing in the certainty of home within a few short hours, and they found home that night, but it was in a better world. You have made me creep all over, and you mean to say that a wretch like that has any hope of heaven? How did he get away himself? Very easily. A little boat was towing at the side. There were only three men upon deck. Through the beauty of the weather and two of those were asleep. They bound and gagged the waking one, lashed the wheel, and made off in the boat wholly unperceived. There was Rick and Gold, the ring-leader, and four others, and they brought away a little boy who was lying fast asleep, because one of them had been in the service of his father, and because of the value of his Indian clothes, which his aya made him wear now in his little cot for warmth. The scoundrels took good care that no one should get away to tell the tale. They saw the poor Golconda sink with every soul on board, including the captain's wife and babies, and they made for land, and in the morning fog were carried by the tide toward our north landing. One of them knew the coast as well as need be, but they durced not land until their story was concocted, and everything fitted in to suit it. The sight of the rising sun scattering the fog frightened them, as it well might do, and they pulled into the cave, from which I always said, as you may now remember, Robin must have come, the cave which already bears his name. Here they remained all day, considering a plausible tale to account for themselves without making mention of any lost ship, in trying to remove every trace of identity from the boat they had stolen. They had brought with them food enough the last three days and an anchor of rum from the steward's stores, and as they grew weary of their long confinement they indulged more freely than wisely in the consumption of that cordial. In a word they became so tipsy that they frightened the little helpless boy, and when they began to fight about his gold buttons, which were claimed by the fellow who had saved his life, he scrambled from the side of the boat upon the rock and got along a narrow ledge, where none of them could follow him. They tried to coax him back, but he stamped his feet and swore at them being sadly taught bad language by the native servants, I dare say. Rickung Gold wanted to shoot him, for they had got a gun with them, and he feared to leave him there, but Sir Duncan's former boatman would not allow it, and at dark they went away and left him there, and the poor little fellow in his dark despair must have been led by the hand of the Lord through the crannies too narrow for a man to pass. There was a well-known land passage out of that cave, but he must have crawled out by a smaller one, unknown even to our fisherman, ending up the hill, and having outlet in the thicket near the place where the boats draw up, and so he was found by Robin Coxcroft in the morning. They had fed the child with biscuits soaked in rum which accounts for his heavy sleep and wonderful exertions, and may have predisposed him for a contraband career, and perhaps for the very bad language which he used, so misses up round thoughtfully, it is an extraordinary tale, my dear, but I suppose there can be no doubt of it. But such a clever child should have known his own name. Why did he call himself Isun Sabe? That is another link in the certainty of proof. On board that unfortunate ship, and perhaps even before he left India, he was always called Young Saheb, and he used, having proud little ways of his own to shout if anybody dares provoke him, I see Young Saheb, I see Young Saheb, which we rendered into Isun Sabe, but the true name is Wilton Bart Yordis, I believe, and the initials can be made out upon his gold beads. Mr. Mordox tells me, among heathen texts, that seems rather shocking to good principles, my dear, I trust that Sir Duncan is a Christian at least, or he shall never set foot in this house. My dear, I cannot tell. How should I know? He may have lapsed, of course, as a good many of them do, from the heat of a climate and bad surroundings, but that happens mostly from their marrying native women, and this gentleman never has done that, I do believe. They tell me that he is a very handsome man, and of most commanding aspect, the very thing Janetta likes so much. What became of those unhappy, sadly tipsy sailors? Well, they managed very cleverly and made success of tipsiness. As soon as it was dark that night, and before the child had crawled away, they pushed out of the cave and let the flood-tide take them round the head. They meant to have landed in Bridelington Quay, with a tale of escape from a Frenchman, but they found no necessity for going so far. A short-handed collier was lying in the roads, and the skipper perceiving that they were in liquor thought it a fine chance and took some trouble to secure them. They told him that they had been trying to run goods and were chased by a revenue boat and so on. He was only too glad to be enabled to make sail, and by dawn they were under way for the Thames, and that was the end of the Golconda. What an awful crime! But you never mean to tell me that the Lord let those men live and prosper? That subject is beyond our view, my dear. There were five of them, and Rickon Gould believed himself the last of them. But being very penitent he might have exaggerated. He said that one was swallowed by a shark, at least his head was, and one was hanged for sealing sheep, and one for a bad six-pence, for the fate of the other two, too terrible to tell you, brought this man down here, to be looking at the place and to divide his time between fasting and drinking and poaching and discoursing to the thoughtless. The women flocked to hear him preach when the passion was upon him, and he used to hint at awful sins of his own which made him earnest. I hope that he was so, and I do believe it. But the wooden-legged sailors, old Joe and his son, who seemed to have been employed by Mordax, took him at his own word for a miserable sinner, which, as they told their master, no respectable man would call himself, and in the most business-like manner they said to remove him to a better world. And now they have succeeded. Poor man! After all, one must be rather sorry for him. If old Joe came stumping after me for half an hour I should have no interest in this life left. My dear, they stumped after him the whole day long, and at night they danced a hornpipe outside his hut. He became convinced that the Prince of Evil was come, in that naval style, to fetch him, and he drank everything he could lay hands on to fortify him for the contest. The end, as you know, was extremely sad for him, but highly satisfactory to them, I fear. They have signified the resolution to attend his funeral, and Mordax has said, with unbecoming levity, that if they never were drunk before, which seems to me an almost romantic supposition, that night they shall be drunk, and no mistake. All these things, my dear," replied Mrs. Upround, who was gifted with a fine vein of moral reflection,--"are not as we might wish if we ordered them ourselves, but still there is this to be said in their favour, that they have a large tendency toward righteousness." CHAPTER 47 of Mariannerly. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Mariannerly by Richard Dodridge Blackmore. CHAPTER 47 A Tangle of Veins. Human resolution, energy, experience, and reason in its loftiest form may fight against the doctor, but he beats them all, maintains at least his own vitality, and asserts his guineas. Two more resolute men than Mr. Mordox and Sir Duncan Yordus could scarcely be found in those resolute times. They sternly resolved to have no sort of doctor, and yet within three days they did have one, and, more than that, the very one they had positively vowed to abstain from. Dr. Sturbax let everybody know that he never cared two flips of his thumb for anybody. If anybody wanted him they must come and seek him, and be thankful if he could find time to hear their nonsense, for he understood not the system only, but also the nature of mankind. The people at the Thornwick did not want him. Very good. So much the better for him and for them. Because the more they wanted him the less would he go near them. Tchuh! Tchuh! Tchuh! He said, What did he want with crack-brained patients? All this compelled him with a very strong reluctance to be dragged into that very place the very same day, and he saw that he was not come an hour too soon. Sir Duncan was lying in a bitterly cold room with the fire gone out and the spark of his life not very far from following it. Mr. Mordox was gone for the day upon business after leaving strict orders that a good fire must be kept, and many other things attended to. But the chimney took to smoking and the patient to coughing, and the landlady opened the window wide and the fire took flight into the upper air. Sir Duncan hated nothing more than any fuss about himself. He had sent a man to Scarborough for a little chest of clothes, for his saddle-kit was exhausted and having promised Mordox that he would not quit the house. He had nothing to do except to meditate and shiver. Bill Bilby's wife Nell, coming up to take orders for dinner, got a dreadful turn from what she saw, and ran down exclaiming that the very best customer that ever drew their latch was dead. Without waiting to think the landlord sent a most urgent message for Dr. Sturbachs, that learned man happened to be round the corner although he lived at Bempton. He met the messenger, cast to the winds all sense of wrong and rushed to the sucker of humanity. That night, when the General Factor returned, with the hunger excited by feeding the hungry, he was met at the door by Dr. Sturbachs, saying, Hush, my good sir! Before he had time to think of speaking. Jew! cried Mr. Mordox, having met this gentleman when Rick and Gould was near his last. You! Then it must be bad indeed. It is bad, and it must have been all over, sir, but for my being providentially at the cheese-shop, I say nothing to wound any gentlemen's feelings who thinks that he understands everything, but our poor patient with the very best meaning, no doubt, has been all but murdered. Dr. Sturbachs, you have got him now, and of course you will make the best of him. Don't let him slip through your fingers, doctor. He is much too good for that. He shall not slip through my fingers, said the little doctor with a twinkle of self-preservation. I have got him, sir, and I shall keep him, sir, and you ought to have put him in my hands long ago. The sequel of this needs no detail. Dr. Sturbachs came three times a day, and without any disrespect to the profession it must be admitted that he earned his fees, for sir Duncan's case was a very strange one, and beyond the best wisdom of the laity. If that shill had struck upon him when his spirit was as usual, he might have cast it off, and gone on upon his business. But coming as it did, when the temperature of his heart was lowered by the nip of disappointment it went into him, as water on a duck's back is not cast away when his rump gland is out of order. A warm room, good vitals, and cheerful society, these three are indispensable, said Dr. Sturbachs to Mr. Mordachs, over whom he began to try to tyrannize. And admirable as you are, my good sir, I fear that your society is depressing. You are always in a fume to be doing something—a stew, I might say, without exaggeration—a wonderful pattern of an active mind. But in a case of illness we require the passive voice. Everything suggestive of rapid motion must be removed, and never spoken of. You are rapid motion itself, my dear sir. We get a relapse every time you come in. You want me out of the way. Very well. Let me know when you have killed my friend. I suppose your office ends with that. I will come down and see to his funeral. Mr. Mordachs, you may be premature in such provision. Your own may come first, sir. Look well at your eyes the next time you shave, and I fear you will decry those radiant fibers in the iris which always coexist with heart disease. I can tell you fifty cases if you have time to listen. Darn your prognostics, sir! exclaimed the Factor rudely, but he seldom lathered himself henceforth without a little sigh of self-regard. Now, Dr. Stirbox, he continued with a rally, you may find my society depressing, but it is generally considered to be elevating, and that, sir, by judges of the highest order, and men of independent income. The head of your profession in the northern half of England, who takes a hundred guineas for every one you take, rejoices, sir. Rejoices is not too strong a word to use, in my very humble society. Of course he may be wrong, but when he hears that Dr. Stirbox of little underbumped in, is that the right address, sir? Speaks of my society as depressing. Mr. Morax, you misunderstood my meaning. I spoke with no reference to you, whatever, but of all male society is elevating. If you dislike the word depressing, relaxing, emollient, emesculating, from want of contradictory element, while I was proceeding to describe the need of strictly female society, the Rector offers this, he was here just now. His admiration for you is unbounded. He desires to receive our distinguished patient with the vast advantage of lady's society, double-thick walls in the southern aspect if you should consider it advisable. Undoubtedly I do. If the moving can be done without danger, and of that you are the proper judge, of course. Thus they compose their little disagreement with mutual respect and some approaches to goodwill, and sir Duncan Yordas being skillfully removed spent his Christmas, without knowing much about it, in the best and warmest bedroom in the Rectory. But Morax returned, as an honest man should do, to put the laurel and the mistletoe on his proper household gods, and where can this be better done than in that grand old city, York. But before leaving Flambeiro he settled his claims of business and charity, so far as he could see them, and so far as a state of things permitted. Foiled as he was in his main object by the murder of the revenue officer, in a consequent flight of Robin Leith, he had thoroughly accomplished one part of his task, the discovery of the Gulkanda's fate, and the history of sir Duncan's child. Moreover his trusty agents, Joe of the Monument and Bob his son, had relieved him of one thorny care, by the zeal and skill with which they worked. It was to them a sweet instruction to watch, encounter, and drink down a rogue who had scuttled a ship, and even defeated them at their own weapons, and made a text of them to teach mankind. Dr. Uparound had not exaggerated the ardor with which they discharged their duty, but Morax still had one rogue on hand, and a deeper one than Rick and Gould. In the course of his visits to Bridelington Quay he had managed to meet John Cadman, preferring, as he always did, his own impressions to almost any other evidence, and his own impressions had entirely borne out the conviction of Widow Caroway. But he saw at once that this man could not be plied with coarse weapons, like the other worn-out villain. He reserved him as a choice-bit for his own skill, and was careful not to alarm him yet. Only two things concerned him as immediate in the matter, to provide against Cadman's departure from the scene, and to learn all the Widow had to tell about him. The Widow had a great deal to say about that man, but had not said it yet, from want of power to do so. Morax himself had often stopped her when she could scarcely stop herself, for until her health should be set up again any stir of the mind would be dangerous. But now, with the many things provided for her, good nursing and company in the kindness of the neighbors, who jealously rushed in as soon as a stranger led the way, and the sickening of Tommy with the measles which he had caught in the coal cellar, she began to be started in a different plane of life. To contemplate the past as a golden age, enshrining a diamond statue of a revenue officer in full uniform, and to look upon the present as a period of steel, when a keen edge must be kept against the world for a defense of the little seed of diamonds. Now the weather was milder as it generally is at Christmas time in the snow all gone, and the wind blowing off the land again to the great satisfaction of both cod and conger. The cottage which had looked such a den of cold and famine with the blinds drawn down, and the snow piled up against the door, and that a single child-nose against the glass was now quite warm again, and almost as lively as if Lieutenant Caroway were coming home to dinner. The heart of Mr. Mordak's glowed with pride as he said to himself that he had done all this, and the glow was reflected in the cheeks of Geraldine as she ran out to kiss him, and jumped upon his shoulder. For in spite of his rigid aspect and stern nose, the little lass had taken kindly to him, while he admired her for eating candles. "'If you please, you can come in here,' said Jerry. "'Oh, don't knock my head against the door.' Mrs. Caroway knew what he was come for, and although she had tried to prepare herself for it, she could not help troubling a little. The Factor had begged for her to have some friend present to encourage and help her in so grievous an affair, but she would not hear of it, and said she had no friend. Mr. Mordak sat down as he was told to do in the little room sacred to the poor Lieutenant, and faithful even yet to the pious memory of his pipe. When the children were shut out he began to look around, that the lady might have time to cry. But she only found occasion for a little dry sob. "'It is horrible, very, very horrible,' she murmured with a shudder as her eyes were following his, but for his sake I can endure it. "'A most sad and bitter trial, ma'am, as ever I heard of. But you are bound to bear in mind that he is looking down on you.' "'I could not put up with it, without the sense of that, sir. But I say to myself how much he loved it, and that makes me put up with it.' "'I am quite at a loss to understand you, ma'am. We seem to be yet cross purposes. I was speaking of a thing that pains me to mention. And you say how much he loved dirt, sir, dirt. It was his only weakness. Oh, my darling Charles, my blessed blessed Charlie! I used to drive him almost to his end about it. But I never thought his end would come. I assure you I never did, sir. But now I shall leave everything as he would like to see it, every table and every chair, that he could write his name on it, and his favourite pipe with the bottom in it. That is what he must love to see if the Lord allows him to look down. Only the children mustn't see it for the sake of bad example.' "'Mrs. Caroway, I agree with you most strictly. Children must be taught clean ways, even while they revere their father. You should see my daughter Arabella, ma'am. She regards me with perfect devotion. Why? Because I never let her do the things that I myself do. Is the only true principle of government for a nation, a parish, a household? How beautifully you have trained, pretty Geraldine. I fear that you scarcely could spare her for a month, in the spring, and perhaps Tommy after his measles. But a visit to York would do them good, and establish their expanding minds, ma'am. Mr. Mordax, I know not where we may be, then, but anything that you desire is a law to us.' "'Well said, beautifully said. But I trust, my dear madam, that you will be here. Indeed it would never do for you to go away. Or rather I should put it thus. For the purposes of justice, and for other reasons also, it is most important that you should not leave this place. At least you will promise me that, I hope? Unless, of course. You find the memories too painful, and even so you might find comfort in some inland house not far.' Many people might not like to stop, the widow answered simply. But to me it would be a worse pain to go away. I sit in the evening by the window here, whenever there is light enough to show the sea, and the bench is fit for landing on. It seems to my eyes that I can see the boat, with my husband, standing up in it. He had a majestic way of standing, with one leg more up than the other, sir. Through one of his daring exploits, and whenever I see him, he is just like that, and the little children in the kitchen peep and say, Here's Daddy coming at last! We can tell by my mammy's eyes! And the bigger ones say, Hush! You might know better. And I look again, wondering which of them is right. And then there is nothing but the clouds and the sea. Still when it is over, and I have cried about it, it does me a little good every time. I seem to be nearer to Charlie, as my heart falls quietly into the will of the Lord. No doubt of it whatever. I can thoroughly understand it, although there is not a bit of resignation in me. I felt that sort of thing to some extent when I lost my angelic wife, mam, though naturally departed to a sphere more suited for her, and I often seem to think that still I hear her voice when a coal comes to the table in the well-dish. Life, Mrs. Caraway, is no joke to bandy back, but trouble to be shared, and none share it fairly but the husband and the wife, mam. You make it very hard for me to get my words, she said without mining that her tears ran down so long as she spoke clearly. I am not of the lofty sort, and understand no laws of things, though my husband was remarkable for doing so. He took all the trouble of the taxes off, though my part was to pay for them, and in every other way he was a wonder, sir, not at all because now he is gone above, that would be my last motive. He was a wonder, a genuine wonder, Mordax replied without irony. He did his duty, mam, with zeal and ardor, a shining example upon every little pay. I fear that it was integrity and zeal, truly British character and striking sense of discipline that have so sadly brought him to the condition of an example. Yes, Mr. Mordax, it was all that. He never could put up with a lazy man as anybody to live must have to do. He kept all his men, as I used to do our children, to word of command and no answer. Honest men like it, but wicked men fly out, and all along we had a very wicked man here. So I have heard from other good authority, a deceiver of women, a skulk, a dog. I have met with many villains, and I am not hot. But my tendency is to take that fellow by the throat with both hands and throttle him. Having thoroughly accomplished that I should prepare to sift the evidence. Unscientific, illogical, brutal are such desires as you need not tell me. And yet, madam, they are manly. I hate slow justice, I like it quick, quick or none at all, I say, so long as it is justice. Creeping justice is, to my mind, a little better than slow revenge. My opinions are not orthodox, but I hope they do not frighten you. They do indeed, sir, or at least your face does, though I know how quick and just you are. He is a bad man, too well I know it. But as my dear husband used to say, he has a large lot of children. Well, Mrs. Caroway, I admire you the more, for considering what he has not considered. Let us put aside that, the question is, guilty or not guilty? If he is guilty, shall he get off, and innocent men be hanged for him? Six men are in jail at this present moment for the deed which we believe he did. Have they no wives, no fathers and mothers, no children, not to speak of their own lives? The case is one in which the Constitution of the realm must be asserted. Six innocent men must die unless the crime is brought home to the guilty one. Even that is not all as regards yourself. You may not care for your own life, but you are bound to treasure it seven times over for the sake of your seven children. While John Cadman is at large, and nobody hanged instead of him, your life is in peril, ma'am. He knows that you know him, and have denounced him. He has tried to scare you into silence, and the fright caused you your sad illness. I have reason to believe that he, by scattering crafty rumours concealed from the neighbours your sad plight and that of your children. If so, he is worse than the devil himself. Do you see your duty now, and your interest also? Mrs. Careway nodded gently. Her strength of mind was not come back yet after so much illness. The baby lay now on its father's breast, and the mothers had been wild for it. I am sorry to have used harsh words, resumed Mordax, but I always have to do so. They seemed to put things clearer, and without that, where would business be? Now I will not tire you if I can help it, nor ask a needless question. What provocation had this man? What fanciful cause for spite, I mean! Oh, none, Mr. Mordax, none whatever! My husband rebuked him for being worthless and a liar and a traitor, and he threatened to get him removed from the force. And he gave him a little throw-down from the cliff, but what little was done was done entirely for his good. Yes, I see, and after that was Cadman ever heard to threaten him. Many times, in a most malicious way, when he thought that he was not heeded, the other men may fear to bear witness, but my Geraldine has heard him. There could be no better witness. A child, especially a pretty little girl, tells wonderfully with a jury. But we must have a great deal more than that. Thousands of men threaten and do nothing. According to the proverb, a still more important point is, how did the muskets in the boat come home? They were all returned to the station, I presume. Were they all returned with their charges in them? I am sure I cannot say how that was. There was nobody to attend to that, but one of them had been lost altogether. One of the guns never came back at all. Mordax almost shouted, Who's gun was it that did not come back? How can we say? There was such confusion. My husband would never let them nick the guns as they do at some of the stations, for every man to know his own. But in spite of that each man had his own, I believe. Cadman declares that he brought home his, and nobody contradicted him. But if I saw the guns I should know whether Cadman's is among them. How can you possibly pretend to know that, ma'am? English ladies can do almost anything, but surely you never served out the guns. No, Mr. Mordax, but I have cleaned them. Not the inside, of course, that I know nothing of, and nobody sees that to be offended. But several times I have observed at the station the disgraceful quantity of dust upon the guns. Dust and rust and miserable blotches such as bad girls leave in the top of a fish-cattle. And I made Charlie bring them down, and be sure to have them ready, because they were so unlike what I have seen on board of the ship where he won his glory, and took the bullet in his nineteenth rib. My dear madam, what a frame he must have had! But this is most instructive. No wonder Geraldine is brave. What a worthy wife for a naval hero, a lady who had handled guns! I knew, sir, quite from early years having lived near a very large arsenal, that nothing can make a gun go off unless there is something in it. And I could trust my husband to see to that, and before I touched one of them I made him put a brimstone match to the touch-hole, and I found it so pleasant to polish them from having such wicked things quiet at my mercy. The wood was what I noticed most. Because of understanding chairs, one of them had a very curious tangle of veins on the left cheek behind the trigger, and I just had been doing for the children's tea what they call crinkly-crankly, trickle-trickled like a maze upon the bread. And Tommy said, Look here, it's the very same upon this gun! And so it was, just the same pattern on the wood. And while I was doing it Cadman came up, in his low, surly way, and said, I want my gun, Mrs. I never shoot with no other gun than that. Captain says I may shoot a sea-pie for the little ones, and so I always called it Cadman's gun. I have not been able to think much yet. But if that gun is lost I shall know who it was that lost a gun that dreadful night. All this is most strictly to the purpose, answered Mordax, and may prove most important. We could never hope to get those six men off without throwing most grave suspicion elsewhere, and unless we can get those six men off their captain will come and surrender himself and be hanged to a dead certainty. I doubt it is carrying the sense of right so far until I reflected upon his birth, dear madam. He belongs, as I may tell you now, to a very ancient family, a race that would run their heads into a new set of pure obstinacy rather than skulk off. I am a very ancient race myself, though I never take pride in the matter, because I have seen more harm than good of it. I always learned Latin at school so quickly through being a grammatical example of decent. According to our pedigree, Caesius, Calpurnius Mordax Nassau was the governor of Britain under pern attacks. My name means biting, and bite I can whether my dinner is before me or my enemy. In the present case I shall not bite yet, but prepare myself for doing so. I watch the proceedings of the government who are sure to be slow as well as blundering. There has been no appointment to this command as yet, because of so many people wanting it. This patched up peace, which may last about six months, even if it is ever signed, is producing confusion everywhere. You have an old fool put in charge of this station till a proper successor is appointed. He is not like Captain Caroway, sir, but that concerns me little now, but I do wish, for my children's sake, that they would send a little money. And no account think twice of that. That question is in my hands, and affords me one of the few pleasures I derive from business. You are under no sort of obligation about it. I am acting under authority. A man of exalted position and high office? But never mind that, until the proper time comes. Only keep your mind in perfect rest, and attend to your children and yourself. I am obliged to proceed very warily, but you shall not be annoyed by that scoundrel. I will provide for that before I leave. Also I will see the guns still in store, without letting anybody guess my motive. I have picked up a very sharp fellow here, whose heart is in the business thoroughly. For one of the prisoners is his twin brother, and he lost his poor sweetheart through Cadman's villainy. A young lass who used to pick muscles or something. He will see that the rogue does not give us the slip, and I have looked out for that in other ways as well. I am greatly afraid of tiring you, my dear madam, but have you any other thing to tell me of this, Cadman? No, Mr. Mordax, except the whole quantity of little things that tell a great deal to me, but to anybody else would have no sense. For instance, of his looks, and turns, and habits, and tricks of seeming neither the one thing or the other, and jumping all the morning when the last man was hanged. Did he do that, madam? Are you quite sure? I had it on the authority of his own wife. He beats her, but still she cannot understand him. You may remember that the man to be suspended was brought up to the place where—where—where he earned his doom. It is quite right. Things of that sort should be done upon a far more liberal scale. Example is better than a thousand precepts. Let us be thankful that we live in such a country. I have brought some medicine for brave Tommy from Dr. Sturbax, but be sure that you stroke his throat when he takes it. Boys are such rogues! Well, Mr. Mordax, I really hope that I know how to make my little boy take medicine. End of Chapter 47. Recording by Keith Salas. Chapter 48 of Mary Annerley. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Mary Annerley by Richard Dodridge Blackmore. Chapter 48. Short Size and Long Ones. Now it came to pass that for several months this neighborhood, which had begun to regard Mr. Mordax as its tutelary genius, so great as the power of bold energy, lost him altogether and with brief lamentation began to do very well without him. So fugitive is vivacious stir, and so well content as the general world to jog along in its old ruts. The flamborough butcher once more subsided into a Piscatarian. The postman, who had been driven off his legs, had time to nurse his grain again. Widow taps he relapsed into the very worst of taps, having none to demand good beverage, and a new rat sevenfold worse than the mighty net devourer, whom Mordax slew, but the chronicle has been cut out for the sake of brevity, took possession of his galleries and made them pay. All flamborough yearned for the gentleman as did things, itself being rather of the contemplative vein, which flows from immemorial converse with the sea. But the man of dry hand and heel activity came not, and the lanes forgot the echo of his Roman march. The postman, with a wicked endeavor of hope to beget faith from sweet laziness, propagated a loose report that death had claimed a general factor through fear of any rival in activity. The postman did not put it so, because his education was too good for long words to enter into it, but he put his meaning in a shorter form than a smattering of distant tongues leaves to us. The butcher, having doubt of death unless by man administered, took the postman out of his expiring shop, where large hooks now had no sheep for bait, and widow Tapse filled with softer liquid form of memory was so upset by the letterman's tale that she let off a man who owed four gallons for beating him as flat as his own bag. To tell of these things may take time, but time is thoroughly well spent if it contributes a trifle toward some tendency on anybody's part, to hope that there used to be, even in this century, such a thing as gratitude. But why did Mr. Mordax thus desert his favorite quest and quarters, and the folk in whom he took most delight, because so long inaccessible? The reason was, as sound as need be, important business of his own had called him away into Derbyshire. Like every true son of stone and crag he required an annual scratch against them, and hope to rest among them when the itch of life was over. But now he had hopes of even more than that, of owning a good house and fair estate, and henceforth exerting his remarkable powers of agency on his own behalf. For his cousin, Calpurnius Mordax, the head of the family, was badly ailing and having lost his only son in the West Indies had sent for his kinsmen the settle matters with him. His offer was generous and noble, to wit, that Geoffrey should take, not the property alone, but also his second cousin, Fair Calpurnia, though not without her full consent. Without the lady he was not to have the land, and the lady's consent must be secured before her father ceased to be a sound testator. Now if Calpurnia had been kept in ignorance of this arrangement a man possessing the figure, decision, stature, self-confidence, and other high attributes of our Mordax must have triumphed in a week at latest. But, with their candor which appears to have been so strictly entailed in the family, Colonel Calpurnius called them in, and there, in the presence of the testator and of each other, they were fully appraised of this rather urgent call upon their best to most delicate emotions, and the worst of it was, from this gentleman's point of view, that the contest was unequal. The golden apples were not his to cast, but Atalantis, the lady was to have the land even without accepting love. Moreover, he was fifty percent beyond her in age, and Hyman would make her a mama without invocation of Lucina, but highest and deepest woe of all, most mountainous of obstacles, was the lofty skyline of his nose inherited from the Roman. If the lady's corresponding feature had not corresponded, in other words if her nose had been chubby, snub, or even Greek, his bold bridge must have served him well, and even shortened access to rosy lips and tender heart. But alas! the fair one's nose was also of the fine imperial type, truly admirable in itself, but, under one of nature's strictest laws, coy of contact with its own male expression, love whose joy and fierce prank is debuckled to the plated pole ill-matched forms and incongruous spirits. Did not fail a ver impartial freaks? Mr. Mordax had to cope with his own kin and found the conflict so severe that not a breath of time was left him for anybody's business but his own. If Luc was against him in that quarter, although he would not have known it yet, at York and Flamborough it was not so. No crisis arose to demand his presence, no business when amiss because of his having to work so hard at love. There came as there sometimes does in matters pressing, tangled and exasperating a quiet period, a gentle lull. A halcyon time when the jaded brain reposes, and the heart may hatch her own mare's-ness, underneath that tranquil spell laid Fond Joe and Bob with their cash to spend, widow Precious with her beer laid in, and widow Caroway with a dole at last extorted from the government, while Annerley Farm was content to hearken the creek of wagon and the ring of flail, and the rector of Flamborough once more rejoiced in the bloodless war that breeds goodwill. For Sir Duncan Yordis was a fine chess-player, as many Indian officers of that time were, and now that he was coming to his proper temperature, after three months of barbed stab of cold, and the breach of the seal of the seventy-fifth file of Dr. Bax, in gratitude for that miraculous escape, he did his very best to please everybody. To Dr. Upround, he was an agreeable and penetrative companion. To Mrs. Upround, a gallant guest, with a story for every slice of bread and butter, to Janetta, a deity combining the perfections of Jupiter, Phoebus, Mars and Neptune, because of his yacht, without any of their drawbacks, and to Flamborough more largely speaking, a downright good sort of gentleman, combining a smoke with a jaw, so the understood cigars, and not above standing still sometimes for a man to say some sense to him. But before Mr. Mordox left his client under Dr. Upround's care, he had done his best to provide that mischiefs should not come of gossip, and the only way to prevent that issue is to preclude the gossip. Sir Duncan Mordox, having lived so long in a large commanding way among people who might say that they pleased of him, desired no concealment here, and accepted it unwillingly. But his agent was better skilled in English life, and rightly foresaw a mighty buzz of nuisance, without any honey to be brought home, from the knowledge of the public that the Indian hero had begotten the better-known apostle of free trade, yet it might have been hard to persuade Sir Duncan to keep that great fact to himself, if his son had been only a smuggler, or only a fugitive, from a false charge of murder. But that which struck him in the face, as soon as he was able to consider things, was the fact that his son had fled and vanished, leaving his underlings to meet their fate. The smuggling is a trifle, exclaimed the sick man. Our family never was law-abiding, and used to be large cattle-lifters, even the slaying of a man in hot combat was no more than I myself have done, and never felt the worse for it. But to run away, and leave men to be hanged, after bringing them into the scrape himself, is not the right sort of dishonor for our Yorahs. If the boy surrenders, I shall be proud to own him. But until he does that, I agree with you, Mordax, that he does not deserve to know who he is. This view of the case was harsh, perhaps, and showed some ignorance of free trade questions, and of English justice. If Robin Leith had been driven by the heroic view of circumstances to rush in to embrace constabular, would that have restored the other six men to family sinuosities? Not a chance of it. Rather it would trouble the pangs of jail, where they enjoyed themselves to feel that anxiety about their pledges to fortune from which the free Robin relieved them. Money was lodged and paid as punctual as the bank for the benefit of all their belongings. There were times when the sailors grumbled a little because they had no ropes to climb, but of any unfriendly rope and pending they were too wise to have much fear. They knew that they had not done the deed, and they felt assured that twelve good men would never turn round in their box to believe it. Their captain took the same view of the case. He had very little doubt of their acquittal if they were defended properly, and of that a far wealthier man than himself, the Chancellor of the Exchequer of Free Trade, Master Ride Out of Mountain, would take good care. If the money left with Dr. Uprown failed, the surrender of Robin would simply hurt them, unless they were convicted, and in that case he would yield himself. Sir Duncan did not understand these points and condemned his son unjustly, and Mordax was no longer there to explain such questions in his sharp, clear way. Being in this sadly disappointed state and not thoroughly delivered from that renal chill, which the northeast wind coming over the leather of his valets had inflicted, this gentleman, like a long, pendulous grape with ventilators open, was exposed to the delicate insidious billing of little birds that love something good. It might be wrong, indeed it must be wrong, and a foul slur upon fair sweet love, to insinuate that Indian gold or rank or renown or vague romance contributed toward what came to pass. Miss Janetta Uprown, up to this time of her life, had laughed at all the wanton tricks of Cupid, and whenever the married women told her that her time would be safe to come, and then she might understand their behavior, they had always been ordered to go home and do their washing, and this made it harder for her to be mangled by the very tribulation she had laughed at. Short little sighs were her first symptom, and a quiet way of going up the stairs, which used to be a noisy process with her, and then a desire to know something of history and a sudden turn of mind toward soup. Sir Duncan had a basin every day at twelve o'clock, and Janetta had orders to see him do it, by strict institution of stir-backs. Those orders she carried out was such zeal that she even went so far as to blow upon the spoon, and she did look nice while doing it. In a word, as there is no time for many, being stricken she did her best to strike, as a manner of sweet women is. Sir Duncan Yordes received it well, being far on toward her futurity in years, and beyond her whole existence and experience and sighs. He smiled at her ardor and short vehemence to please him, and liked to see her go about because she turned so lightly. Then the pleasant agility of thought began to make him turn to answer it, and whenever she had the best of him in words her bright eyes fell as if she had the worst. She doesn't even know that she is clever, said the patient to himself, and she is the first person I have met yet who knows which side of the line Calcutta is. The manner of those benighted times was to keep from young ladies important secrets which seemed to be no concern of theirs. Miss Upround had never been told what brought his visitor to Flamborough, and although she had plenty of proper curiosity she never got any reward for it. Only four Flamborians knew that Sir Duncan was Robin Leith's Papa, or as they would put it, having faster hold of the end of the stick next to them, that Robin Leith was the son of Sir Duncan, and those were four by force of circumstance, Robin Coxcroft and Joan his wife, the Rector and the Rectorus. Even Dr. Sturbax, organically inquisitive as he was and ill-content to sniff at any bottle with the cork tied down, my mastery of mordax and calm dignity of Rector was able to suspect a lot of things but to be sure of none of them. And suspicion, according to its usual manner, never came near the truth at all. Miss Upround therefore had no idea that if she became Lady Ortas, which she very sincerely longed to be, she would by that event be made the stepmother of a widely celebrated smuggler, while her Indian hero having no idea of her flattering regard as yet was not bound to enlighten her upon that point. At Annerley Farm the like ignorance prevailed, except that Mistress Annerley having a quick turn for romance and liking to get her predictions confirmed, recalled to her mind, and recited to her husband in far stronger language, what she had said in the clover-blossom time to the bravest man that ever lived, the lamented Captain Caroway. Captain Caroway's dauntless end so thoroughly befitting his extraordinary exploits, for which she even had his own authority, made it the clearest thing in all the world that every word she said to him must turn out Bible-true, and she had begged him, and one might be certain that he had told it as a good man must to his poor dear widow, not to shoot at Robin Leith, because he would get a thousand pounds instead of a hundred for doing it. She never could have dreamed to find her words come true so suddenly. But here was an Indian Prince come home who employed the most pleasant spoken gentleman, and you might know who it was he had to thank that even in the cave the Captain did not like to shoot that long lost air. And from this time out there was no excuse for Stephen if he ever laughed at anything that his wife said. Only on no account must Mary ever hear of it. For a bird in the hand was worth fifty in the bush, and the other gone abroad, and under accusation and very likely born of a red Indian mother. Whereas Harry Tanfield's father George had been as fair as a foal, poor fellow, and perhaps if the church books had been as he desired he might have kept out of the churchyard to this day. And me in it, the farmer answered by the laugh, dead for love of my wife Sophie, as wouldn't have been my wife nor drawn nigh upon five pounds this week for feathers, fur, and ribbon stuff. Well, well, George would have come again to think of it. How many times have I seen him go with a six pence in the palm of his hand? And think better of the king upon it and worser the poor chap as were worn out, like the tale of it. Then back go the six pence into George's breeches, and out comes my shilling to the starving chap on the sly and never mention. But for all that I think, like and now, old George might have managed to get up to heaven. Stephen, I wish to hear nothing of that. The question concerns his family, not ours, as Providence has seen fit to arrange. Now, what is your desire to have done with Mary? William has made his great discovery at last, and if we should get the ten thousand pounds nobody need look down on us. I should like to see any one look down on me, Master Annaly said with his back set straight. I might do so once, but I would be sorry afterward not that I would hinder him of own way, only that he better keep out of mine. Sometimes when you go thinking of your own ideas you never seem to bear in mind what my considerations be, because you cannot follow out the quickness of the way I think. You always acknowledge that, my dear. Well, well, quick churn, spoil of butter, like Willie in his perpetual motion. What good to come of it if he had found out? And a might, if ever a body did, from a way he goeth jumping about forever and never hold fast to anything. A nice thing to be for fools to say perpetual motion come from Annaly Farm. You never will think any good of him, Stephen, because his mind comes from my side, but wait till you see the ten thousand pounds. That I will, and thank the Lord to live so long, but to come to common sense. How was Mary and Harry carrying on this afternoon? Not so very bad, Father, and nothing good to speak of. He kept on very well from the corners of his eyes, but she never corresponded, so to speak, same as, you know, the same as you used to do when you was young. Well, manners may be higher stylish now. Did he ask her about the hay-rick? That he did, three or four times over, exactly as you said it to him. He knew that was how you got the upper hand of me, according to your memory, but not mine. And he tried to do it the very same way, but the Lord makes a lot of change in thirty years of time. Mary quite turned her nose up at any such riddle, and he pulled his spotted handkerchief out of that new hat of his, and the faggot never saw fit to heed even the color of his poor red cheeks. Stephen, you would have marched off for a week if I had behaved to you so. And the right way, too. I shall put him up to that. Long size only leads to turn up noses, you blaze to knuckle down at it. You should go on with your sweetheart very mild at first, just a feeling for your fingertips, an emboldening of her to believe that you are frightened, and ringing her to peep at you as if you was a blackbird ready to pop out of sight. That makes him wonderful curious and eager and sticks you to him, like prickly spinach. But you mustn't stop too long like that. You must come out large as a bull runs up the gate, and let him see that you could smash it if you liked, but feel a goodness in your heart that keeps you out of mischief. And they comes up, and they says, poor fellow! Stephen, I do not approve of such expressions, or any such low opinions. You may know how you went on. Such things may have answered once, because of your being yourself, you know. But Mary, although she may not have my sense, must have her own opinions. And the more you talk of what we used to do, though I never remember your trotting up like a bull roaring to any kind of gate, the less I feel inclined to force her. And who is Harry Tanfield, after all? We know all about him, the farmer answered, and that is something to begin with. His land is worth fifteen shillings an acre less than ours, and full of kid-bang. But for all that he can keep a family, and is a good home-dweller. However, like the rest of us, in the way of women, he must bide his bolt and boat it. Father, the mistress of the house replied, I shall never go one step out of my way to encourage a young man who makes you speak so lightly of those you owe so much to. Harry Tanfield may take his chance for me. And so am I for me, mother, and so am I for me. If it was to have our Mary, his father George would be coming up between us, out of his peace in the churchyard more than he doth already, and it comes too much already. Why, Poppet, we were talking of you. Five, five, listening. No, now, father! Harry Annerley answered, with a smile at such a low idea, you never had that to find fault with me, I think, and if you were plotting against me for my good, as mother loves to put it, it would be the best way to shut me out before you begin to do it. I bless my heart and soul, exclaimed the father with the most crafty laugh, for he meant to kill two birds with one stone. If the last hathen got her own dear mother's tongue in the very same way of turning things, there hath never been such a time as this here. The children tell us what to do, and their mothers tell us what not to do. Better take the business off my hands and sell all they turnips, as is rotten. Women is cheats, and would warrant them sound. With the best of the top of the burry. But mind you one thing. If I retire from business, like brother Papa, well, I shall expect to be supported. Cheap, but very substantial. Mary, you are wicked to say such things, Mr. Annerley began, as he went out, when you know that your dear father is such a substantial, silent man. CHAPTER 49 A BOLD ANGLER As if in vexation at being thwarted by one branch of the family, Cupid began to work harder at the other, among the moors and the mountains. Not that either my Lady Philippa, or gentle Mistress Carnaby, fell back into the snares of youth, but rather that youth contemptuous of age leapt up, and defied everybody but itself, and cried TUSH to its own welfare. For as soon as the trance of snow was gone, and the world emboldened, to behold itself again, smiled up from genial places, and the timid step of peeping spring awoke in a sudden flutter in the breast of buds. And streams, having sent their broken anger to the sea, were pleased to be murmuring clearly again, and enjoyed their own flexibility. And even stern mountains and menacing crags allowed soft light to play with him. At such a time Prudence found very narrow house-room in the breast of young Lancelot, otherwise pet. If Prudence be present no divinity is absent, according to high authority, but the author of the proffer must have first excluded love from the list of divinities. Pet's breast, or at any rate his chest, had grown under the expanse of enormity of love. His liver, moreover, which, according to poets both Latin and Greek, is the special throne of love, had quickened its proceedings from the exercise he took. From the same cause his calves increased so largely that even Jordus could not pull the agate buttons of his gaiters through their holes. In a word he gained flesh, muscle, bone, and digestion, and other great bodily blessings, from the power believed by most poets to upset and annihilate every one of them. However, this proves nothing anti-poetical for the essence of that youth was to contradict experience. Jordus had never, in all his born days, not even in the thick of the snow-drift found himself more in a puzzle than now, and he could not even fly for advice in this matter to lawyer jelly-course. The first great gift of nature expelled by education is gratitude. A child is full of gratitude, or at least has got the room for it, but no full grown mortal, after good education, has been known to keep the rudiments of thankfulness. But Jordus had a stock of it, as much as can remain to any one superior in the making of a cross. Now the difficulty of it was that Jordus called to mind every morning when he saw snow and afterward when he saw anything white that he must have required a grave, and not got it, in time to be any good to him, without the hard labor, strong endurance, and brotherly tendons of the people of the gill. Even the three grand fairy gifts of lawyer jelly-course himself might scarcely have saved him, though they were no less than as follows. In virtue the tip of a tongue that had never told a lie because it belonged to a bullock slaying young, a flask of old scotch whiskey, and a horned comfort-box of Irish snuff. All these three had stood him in good stead, especially the last which kept him wide awake and enabled him to sneeze a yellow hole in a drift, whenever it threatened to engulf his beard. Without those three he could never have got on, but with all the three he could never have got out, if bat and maunder of the gill had not come to his succor in the very nick of time. Not only do they work hard for hours under the guidance of Saracen, who was ready to fly at them if they left off, but when at length they came on Jordus and his last exhaustion, with the good horse rubbing up his chin to make him warmer, they did a sight of things which the good Samaritan having finer climate was enabled to dispense with, and when they had set him on his legs again, finding that he could not use them yet, they hoisted him on the back of Maunder, who was strong, and the whole of that expedition ended at the little cottage in the gill. But the kindness of the inhabitants was only just beginning, for when Jordus came to himself he found that his off-foot, as Marmaduke would have called it, the one which had ridden with the northeast aspect, was frozen as hard as a hammer, and as blue as a pistol-barrel. Mrs. Bard happened to have seen such cases in her native country, and by her skillful treatment and never wearying care the poor fellow's foot was saved and cured, although at one time he despaired of it. Marmaduke also was restored and sent home to his stable some days before his rider was in a conditioned amount to him. In return for all these benefits, how could the dog-man, without being worse than a dog, go and say to his ladies that mischief was breeding between their heir and a poor girl who lived in a corner of their land? If he had been ungrateful, or in any way a sneak, he might have found no trouble in this thing, by being as he was an honest noble-hearted fellow. He battled severely in his mind to set up the standard of the proper side to take. For such matters pet cared not one shot. Crafty as he was he could never understand that Jordus and Weldram were not the same man, one half working out of doors and the other in. For him it was enough that Jordus would not tell, probably because he was afraid to do so. And Pat resolved to make him useful. For Lancebot Carnaby was very sharp indeed in aspiring what suited his purpose. His set purpose was to marry in Seabart, in whom he had sense enough to perceive his better, in every respect but money and birth, in which to he was before her, or at any rate supposed to. He was proud as need be of his station in life, but he reasoned, if the process of his mind was reasoned, that being so exalted he might please himself, that his wife would rise to his rank instead of lowering him, that her father was a man of education and a gentleman, although he worked with his own hands and that incy was a lady, though she went to fill a picture. For one happy fact the youth deserved some credit, or rather perhaps his youth deserved it for him. He was madly in love with Incy and his passion could not be of very high spiritual order. The idea of obtaining her dishonorably never occurred to his mind for one moment. He knew her to be better, pure and nobler than himself in every way, and he felt, though he did not want to feel it, that her nature gave a lift to his. Incy, on the other hand, began to like him better and to despise him less and less. His reckless devotion to her made its way, and in spite of all her common sense his beauty and his lordly style had attractions for her young romance, and at last her heart began to bound like his when they were together. With all thy faults I love thee still, was the loose condition of her youthful mind. Into every combination, however steep and deep be the gill of its quiet incubation, a number of people and things peep in and will enter like the cuckoo at the glimpse of a white feather or even without it, unless beak and claw are shown. And now the intruder and the pet's love-nest had the right to look in and to pull him out, neck and grop until he sat there legally. Whether birds discharge for turnal duty is a question for notes and queries even in the present most positive age. Sophocles says that the clever birds feed their parents and their benefactors, and men ascribe piety to them in fables, as a needful and sample to one another. Be that as it may, this maunder Bart, when his rather slow attention was once aroused, kept a sharp watch upon his young landlord's works. It was lucky for Pet that he meant no harm, and that maunder had contemptuous faith in him, otherwise Incy's brother would have shortly taken him up by his gators and softly beaten his head against a rock. For Mr. Bart's son was of bitter, morose, and almost savage nature, silent, moody and resolute as death. He resented and darkly repined at the loss of position and property of which he had heard, and he scorned the fine sentiments which had led to nothing at all substantial. It was not in his power to despise his father, for his mind felt the presence of the larger one. But he did not love him as a son should do. Neither did he speak out his thoughts to anybody beyond a few mutters to his mother. But he loved his gentle sister and found in her goodness which warmed him up to think about getting some upon his own account. Such thoughts, however, were fugitive. And Maunder's more general subject of brooding was the wrong he had suffered through his father. He was living and working like a peasant, or a miner, instead of having horses, and dogs, and men, and the right to kick out inferior people, as that baby Lancelot Carnaby had for no other reason that he could find than the magnitude of his father's mind. He had gone into the subject with his father long ago, for Mr. Bart felt a noble pride in his convictions. And the son lamented with all his heart the extent of his own father's mind, and his lonely walks, heavy hours and hard work, which last he never grudged, for his strength required outlet, he pondered continually upon one thing and now he seemed to see a chance of doing it. The first step in this upward course would be Incy's marriage with Lancelot. Pet, who had no fear of any one but Maunder, tried crafty little tricks to please him, but instead of earning many thanks got none at all, which made him endeavour to improve himself. Mr. Bart's opinion of him now began to follow the course of John Smithy's, and Smithy's looked at it in one light only, ever since Pet so assaulted him and then trusted his goodwill across the dark moors. And that light was that, when you come to think of him, you mustn't be too hard upon him, after all. And one great excellence of his youth was that he cared not adroit for general opinion, so long as he got his own special desire. His desire was not to let a day go by without sight and touch of Incy. These were not to be had at a moment's notice, nor even by much care, and five times out of six he failed of so much as a glimpse or a word of her, for the weather and the time of year have much to say concerning the course of the very truest love. And worse than the weather itself too often is the cloudy caprice of the maiden mind. Incy's father must have known that attraction drew this youth to such a cold, unfurnished spot, and if he had been like other men he would either have nipped in the bud this passion or, for selfish reasons, fostered it. By being of large theoretical mind he found his due outlet in giving advice. It is plain at a glance that in such a case the mother is the proper one to give advice and the father is the one to act strenuously. But now Mrs. Bart, who was a very good lady, had gone through a world of trouble from the want of money, which she had cast away for the sake of something better, came to the forefront of this pretty little business as Incy's mother vigorously. ''Christopher,' she said to her husband, ''not often do I speak between us. Of the affairs it is wise to let alone. But now of our dear child Inesa it is just that I should assist something. Vandauro, which you call English maunder, already is destroyed for life by the magnitude of your good mind. It is just that his sister should find the occasion of reversion to her proper grade of life. For you, Christopher, I have abandoned all and have the good right to claim something from you. And the only thing that I demand is one, that Inesa return to the lady. ''Wow! So Mr. Bart, who had this sense of humor without which no man can give his property away. I hope that she never has departed from it. But, my dear, as you make such a point of it, I will promise not to interfere, unless there is any attempt to do wrong, and entrap a poor boy who does not know his own mind. Inesa is as equal by birth and education, and perhaps is superior in that which comes forth most, nowadays. The money. Dream not that he is a great catch, my dear. I know more of that matter than you do. It is possible that he may stand at the altar with little to settle upon his bride except his bright waistcoat and gaiters. ''Tosh, Christopher! You are, to my mind, always an enigma. ''That is as it should be. It keeps me interesting still. But this is a mere boy and girl romance. If it meant anything, my only concern would be to know whether the boy was good. If not, I should promptly kick him back to his own door. From my observation he is very good, to attend to his rights and make the utmost of them. Mr. Bart laughed, for he knew that a little hit at himself was intended. And very often now, as his joints began to stiffen, he wished that his youth had been wiser. He stuck to his theory still, but his practice would have been more of the practical kind, if it had come back to be done again. But his children and his wife had no claim to bring up anything, because everything was gone before he undertook their business. However, he obtained reproach, as always seems to happen, for those things of his early days which led to their existence. Still, he liked to make the best of things and laughed instead of arguing. For a short time, therefore, Lancelot Carnaby seemed to have his own way in this matter, as well as in so many others. As soon as spring weather unbound the streams and enlarge both the spots and the appetite of trout, which mainly thrived together. Pet became seized by his own account with insatiable love of angling. The back of the gill running into the loon was alive in those unpoaching days with sweet little trout of a very high breed, playful, mischievous, and indulging, while they provoked good hunger. These were trout who disdained to feed basely on the ground when they could feed upward, ennobling almost every gulp with a glimpse of the upper creation. Mrs. Carnaby loved these graceful creatures, as she always called them, when fried well, and she thought it so good and so clever of her son to tempt her poor appetite with them. Philippa, he knows! Perhaps your mind is absent. She said as she put the fifth trout on her plate at breakfast one fine morning, she feels that these little creatures do me good, and to me it becomes a sacred duty to endeavor to eat them. You seem to succeed very well, Eliza. Yes, dear, I manage to get on a little, from a sort of sporting feeling that appeals to me. Before I begin to lift the skins of any of these little darlings, I can see my dear boy standing over the torrent with his wonderful boldness and bright, eagle eyes, to pull out a fish of an ounce and a half, without any disrespect to Pet, whose fishing apparel has cost twenty pounds, I believe that Jordus catches every one of them. Sad to say this was even so. Lancelot had tried once or twice for some five minutes at a time, throwing the fly as he threw a skittle-ball, but finding no fish at once respond to his precipitance, down he cast the rod and left the rest of it to Jordus. But inasmuch as he brought back fish whenever he went out fishing and looked as brilliant and picturesque as a salmon fly, in his new costume his mother was delighted, and his aunt, being full of fresh troubles, paid small heed to him. For as soon as the roads became safe again and an honest attorney could enter horse higher in his bill without being too chivalrous and the ink that had clotted in the goodwill time began to form black blood again. Mr. Jelly-Course himself resolved legitimately to set forth upon a legal enterprise. The winter had shaken him slightly, for even a solicitor's body is vulnerable, and well for the clerk of the weather it is that no action lies against him, and his good wife told him to be very careful, although he looked as young as ever. He had no great opinion of the people he was going to and was sure that they would be too high and mighty even to see that his bed was aired. For her part she hoped that the reports were true, which were now getting into every honest person's mouth, and if he would listen to a woman's common sense and at once go over to the other side it would serve them quite right and be the better for his family, and give a good lift to his profession. But his honesty was stout and vanquished even his pride in his profession. End of Chapter 49. Keith Salas.