 Section 70 of Mysteries of London, Volume 4. Mysteries of London, Volume 4 by George W. M. Reynolds. History of the Haunted Houses in Stamford Street. Twenty-five years ago there were not three nicer looking houses in Stamford Street than those which are now so dilapidated and so wretched in appearance, both outside and internally. The corner dwelling was inhabited by an old gentleman and his son. Their name was Mitchell, and the handsomer youth then Leonard, who at that period had just completed his twentieth year, was seldom to be met with. But it was not only on account of his prepossessing person, elegant manners, and great talents that he was a general favorite. It was likewise in consequence of his admirable behavior towards his father. Mr. Mitchell was for many years a partner in an eminent mercantile firm, but the sudden death of a beloved wife who had long been suffering with the disease of the heart and who one evening fell a corpse at her husband's feet after having appeared gay and cheerful a few minutes previously produced such an effect upon him that he was thrown on a sick bed, whence he arose at the expiration of several months, palsied in all his limbs. Although he still retained possession of his intellect, yet his spirit appeared to be completely broken and his energies were crushed. An arrangement was accordingly affected by virtue of which he withdrew from the firm on condition of receiving four hundred pounds a year for the remainder of his life. These incidents occurred during Leonard's seventeenth year, and the affectionate youth immediately devoted himself to the duty of rendering his afflicted sire's existence as pleasing, or rather as little burdensome as possible. His attentions were unremitting, and yet so delicately administered that the old man was not suffered to feel how completely dependent he was for solace and comfort on his only child. When the weather was fine Leonard invariably had some excuse to induce his father to go out for a walk, and as he supported the arm of that tottering, feeble, trembling parent he conversed in a gay and unrestrained manner, conjuring up those topics which he knew to be agreeable to the invalid, and never, never exhibiting the least impatience at being thus chained as it were to the side of the sufferer. Of an evening the young man would read aloud those works which best suited his father's taste, or he would sit for hours playing at chess, a game of which Mr. Mitchell was particularly fond. When invited to a party Leonard would at first promise to attend so that his father might not perceive that he remained away entirely on his account. But the youth was always sure to have a convenient headache or to sprain his ankle, or adopt some other ingenious and equally venile little device in order to have an apology for staying at home. Now and then his father would see through his motive and insist upon him keeping his engagement, in which case Leonard was always sure to leave long before the breaking up of the party, and on his return home he would creep noiselessly to his father's chamber to assure himself, ere he preceded to his own, that the old man was comfortable and wanted for nothing. In a word the devotion of this youth to his afflicted sire was such that all who knew him beheld him with mingled admiration and respect, and even the giddiest and most thoughtless young men of his acquaintance could not bring themselves to joke or juror him for that conduct which, in any other, they would have looked upon as the steadiness and sedateness carried to an extreme. Star to the Mitchells, that is to say, in the central of the Three Houses, to which this narrative relates, dwelt Mr. Pomfret, who, by the secession of the paralyzed old gentleman, had become the head of the firm, the business premises of which were in the city. Mr. Pomfret was likewise a widower, and likewise possessed an only child. Ellen Pomfret was a year younger than Leonard, and she was as beautiful as he was handsome. They had been acquainted from childhood, and the affection which in its origin was such as exists between a brother and a sister by natural degrees ripened into a devoted and profoundly ridded love. In the estimation of all who know them there was a remarkable fitness in the union of this admirable pair. Their style of beauty, their dispositions, their manners, their acquirements were of a nature to adopt them for each other. They were both tall, slight, and gracefully formed. Ellen's hair was of a rich brown, scarcely a shade deeper than that of Leonard. Their foreheads were high and intellectual. Their eyes were of deep blue, hers more melting and tender than his, which were animated with the fire of a noble and generous spirit. And never did man nor woman possess finer teeth than theirs. Both were fond of music and drawing. Both were imbued with deep religious feelings, sincere and even enthusiastic, but utterly devoid of bigotry and uncharitableness. And both loved virtue for its own sake. Faith with them was a delight and an inspiration encouraging fine hopes in respect to this world and confidence in the next. A religion that knew not of exchetic gloom but that seemed to trace life's pathway amidst love and perfume and flowers. Mrs. Pomfret had died when Ellen was about fourteen, and for the two following years the maiden was blessed with the companionship and counsels of a kind aunt who, immediately after the deceased of her sister, took up her abode in the house. But death snatched her away to the tomb shortly after the sixteenth birthday of her niece, who was thus left alone as it were with her father. Mr. Pomfret, though a kind and well-meaning man originally, was not a prudent one. He had an overweening confidence in his commercial abilities and financial foresight, and he was thus led into speculations from which his friends, had he condescended to consult them, would have dissuaded him. Many of those speculations he undertook on his own private account, and independently of the firm of which, as above described, he became the head. And his numerous affairs, accordingly, kept him much away from home. Ellen was therefore a great deal alone, for maidenly prudence prevented her from calling in next door as often as she could have desired, or as Leonard would have wished to see her. Still she did now and then pass an hour or two with Mr. Mitchell and his son, relieving the latter in his task of reading or his post at the chess-table. The old gentleman was deeply attached to Ellen Pomfret, and the more so, inasmuch as it appeared to be a settled thing that the two families were to be closely united by means of the marriage of the young people. But no day was fixed for this event, nor indeed did the engagement appear to be more than a tacit one, for the reader must remember that at the time when we introduced the hero and the heroine of this narrative the former was only twenty years of age, and the latter nineteen. The third house to which our present history especially refers was inhabited by an old bachelor who at the time alluded to was upwards of sixty. He was a fine man for his age, boasted that he had not yet taken the spectacles, and walked as upright and as rapidly as if he were twenty years younger. His Rubicon countenance was the very picture of good nature, and a very good-natured being he in reality was. But he was whimsical and eccentric to a degree, and, though very rich and proud of his eloquently furnished abode, he seldom invited a grown-up person to cross his threshold, much less to partake of his hospitality. But on the other hand he was devotedly attached to children, and his greatest delight was to assemble a dozen or so of his neighbor's little sons and daughters in his comfortable parlour or handsome drawing-room and make them all as happy as he could. This was certainly a strange and most unusual predilection for an old bachelor to entertain, but there are exceptions to all rules, and Mr. Gamble was a living proof of the dogma. He was wont to say that it did his heart good to behold rosy-cheeked, flaxen-haired, laughing-eyed children romping about him, that it awakened blessed feelings in his soul to hear them merry shouts and witness their innocent mirth, and that he fancied himself young again when presiding at the table which he had gathered them, and when he dispensed fruit, cake, sweet wine, and comfortures with no-niggered hand. Be it understood, then, that at least to our mind Mr. Gamble was a most estrangeable character, for he who was fond of children cannot possibly be a bad man, whereas we have no confidence whatever in the individual who does not experience a lively interest in those endearing artless little beings. Mr. Gamble did not consider it to be at all derogatory to his nature or his age to join in the infantile sports which he loved so much to behold, and when the curtains were drawn and the door closed, he would even consent to become an active party to a game of blind man's bluff or allow himself to be converted for the nonce into a horse for the express behoof of some chubby urchin more bold in his requisitions than the rest. Mr. Gamble was indeed quite a character. He used frequently to declare that he knew nothing more silly than to give dinner parties. Friendship is a very queer thing, he would say, if it must be shown by my eating at another's expense or by him coming to me to eat at mine. I would sooner spend ten pounds upon cakes and oranges for children who really enjoy them than ten shillings on a repast for a grown-up person who eats in your presence as if under the influence of a chilling ceremony. Relative to adults, therefore, Mr. Gamble neither gave nor accepted invitations, but twice or thrice a week he congregated his little friends around him, and the more they romped the better he was pleased. The more noise they made, the higher did his spirits rise. If they injured his furniture, he cared not, provided it was the result of an accident. But if he once discovered a predilection to willful destructiveness, or if he were made the butt of coarse rudeness instead of the object of innocent merriment, he never again invited the offender to his abode. Considering that the habits of Mr. Gamble were such as we have taken some little trouble to describe them, it may easily be supposed that the neighbors were not a little astonished when it was rumored and ascertained to be a positive fact that Mr. Pomfret had veritably and actually been invited to dine with that eccentric gentleman. This was alone enough to create an impression that a revolution had taken place in the opinions of the old bachelor. But the wonderment was excessive when it was reported and likewise discovered to be true that Mr. Gamble had dined in his turn with Mr. Pomfret. At first it was supposed that the cunning merchant was seeking to ensnare the wealthy bachelor into a marriage with a beautiful Ellen. But when it was remembered that she was engaged till Leonard, and moreover when it was ascertained that she had passed the evening at the Mitchells on the occasion of the old bachelor dining with her father, the above mentioned speculation was instantly discarded. That a revolution had taken place in the habits of Mr. Gamble was, however, very certain, for as time wore on, after those first interchanges of civilities between him and Mr. Pomfret, their intimacy appeared to increase and the parties given by the old bachelor to his juvenile friends grew less frequent. At length not a day passed without an interview occurring between Gamble and Pomfret. They were often closeted together for hours in the evening when the latter returned home from the city and the merchant was moreover frequently seen taking bundles of papers and correspondence into the other's house. It was therefore surmised that they were engaged together in some speculation, but if this were the case it was kept very quiet, for even Ellen herself could give her lover Leonard no explanation relative to the causes of the intimacy that had sprung up so suddenly between her father and Mr. Gamble. A conversation which we are about to record will, however, throw some light upon the subject. It was about six months after the intimacy had commenced that Mr. Pomfret returned home from the city at a later hour than usual, and with a countenance so pale and care-worn that he appeared to his affrighted daughter ten years older than when he quitted her in the morning. Ellen anxiously implored him to inform her if anything unpleasant had occurred, but he gave her a sharp reply in the negative, as much as to enjoying her to abstain from questioning him in future. The poor girl turned aside to conceal the tears that gushed from her eyes, and Mr. Pomfret struck by the sudden conviction that he had behaved most harsely to his amiable daughter exclaimed, Forgive me, Ellen, but to tell you the truth I have received disagreeable intelligence in the city today, and it probably soured my temper for the moment. You are a good girl," he added, kissing the tearful countenance that was now upturned towards his own, and I was wrong to speak unkindly to you, but let that pass. I shall have more command over myself another time. Pray do not dwell upon the subject, my dearest father, said Ellen. Will you have dinner served up at once? No, my love, was the answer. I do not feel in any humor for eating. I meant to say, he added, hastily, but with some degree of confusion, I dined in the city today. And now I shall just run in and see Mr. Gamble for an hour or two, and you can go and play a game of chess with Mr. Mitchell. I shall return to supper presently, so mind and be home again by half past nine. You told me the day before yesterday, dear Papa, said Ellen, that the next time I called on Mr. Mitchell, I was to be sure and ask you for a check for the quarter's income due to him, and which has been standing over for nearly a fortnight. Oh, it does not matter this evening, ejaculated Mr. Pomfret impatiently. Besides, I have not time to sit down and fill up a check at present, he added, a sickly expression passing over his countenance, as if his heart were smitten painfully within his breast. Then, without making another observation, and an evident haste to avoid further parlance on the subject, the merchant threw on his hat and hurried next door. A sigh escaped from Ellen's gentle bosom, for she saw that there was some profound grief in the depths of her father's soul, and anxious to escape from the distressing thoughts which such a conviction was only too well calculated to engender, she made the greater speed to dress herself for a visit to her neighbors. We must, for the present, follow Mr. Pomfret, whom we shall overtake in Mr. Gamble's back parlor, which was fitted up as a library, and contained a small but choice collection of books. The old bachelor was discussing some cool clarré, for it was in the midst of a hot summer, and the moment the merchant made his appearance, he rang for another glass. Mr. Pomfret sank upon a seat, with the error of a man who was exhausted in mind and body. And when the servant had retired, he fixed his eyes intently on his friend's countenance, as he said in a low and solemn tone. Gamble, I have dreadful news for you. For which I am not altogether unprepared, returned the old bachelor, his countenance being serious, if not absolutely severe. How? What do you mean? demanded Pomfret, the gloomy expression of his features giving way to one of profound astonishment. I mean, replied Mr. Gamble, now bending his gaze with unmistakable sternness on his companion, that for a week past I have had forced upon my mind the painful conviction that you were deceiving me. Deceiving you, cried Mr. Pomfret, his cheek blanching in his tall spare form trembling either with rage or guilt, it was not easy immediately to decide which. Yes, deceiving me, and most grossly deceiving me too, exclaimed Mr. Gamble, striking the table violently with his clenched fist. Mr. Pomfret fell back in his chair, aghast and speechless, like a man from whose countenance the visor of duplicity has been suddenly torn. You doubtless desire and explanation, resumed Mr. Gamble, and you shall have it. Six months have elapsed, sir, he continued, his tone becoming reproachful rather than angry. Since I called at your counting house in the city to receive the amount of a draft which had been forwarded to me from abroad by a gentleman to whom I advanced a certain sum many years ago in which I had given up as lost. The sudden and most unexpected recovery of that amount somewhat renewed my confidence in human nature, a confidence not altogether destroyed but long dormant in my breast. You remember that we began to converse about commercial topics, and you finally stated that if I did not immediately require the sum I had called to receive, you knew how to lay it out for me in a safe quarter and at good interest. I accepted the proposal. Firstly, because the funds were so high at the moment that I did not choose to buy the money in, secondly, because we were neighbors and had known each other to speak to at least four-some years, and thirdly, because I was in a good humor with mankind at the moment. You were pleased, on your side, and when you wrote to me a few days afterwards to state that the money was invested according to the terms settled between us, I resolved to carry my good feelings still farther and I asked you to dinner. Subsequently, you returned the compliment, and I began to think that my long-sustained misanthropy was founded in error. This belief opened my heart still farther towards you, and when I came to know your amiable daughter, I felt convinced that all men and women were not deceivers. Such was the state of my mind progressing from a morbid to a healthy condition when you proposed certain speculations to me. I accepted them to a limited extent and on particular terms. I advanced the monies you required to carry out your designs, but I adopted the precaution to avoid anything like a partnership, and this I did only as a wise precaution, for I had tutored myself to place the utmost confidence in you. As time wore on, you constantly demanded fresh supplies, and I did not refuse them, so specious were your representations. But by degrees, I began to entertain vague suspicions that everything was not as you would have me view it, and I laterally instituted inquiries. A week only has elapsed since I acquired a certainty that the larger portion of the money advanced by me to you was never laid out in the way and for the purposes represented by yourself, but that it had been employed to stop up gaps and supply deficiencies in your deeply embarrassed establishment. My God, this is but too true, murmured the miserable pomfret, but you will be merciful towards a man who is reduced to despair. I shall not harm you, sir. Neither shall I expose you, returned Mr. Gamble, while the merchant's countenance somewhat brightened up at this assurance. Perhaps indeed, added the old bachelor after a slight pause, I may even save you yet. Save me, echoed pomfret. Oh no, this is impossible. I am so deeply involved that I owe three times as much as you are likely to possess. I am not so sure of that, sir, returned Mr. Gamble almost in a good humor tone. Then immediately, resuming his former seriousness of voice, he said, it is not so much the loss of my fourteen thousand pounds that I deplore, but it is that you have changed my habits and I am not so happy as I was. The dealings that I had with men in my earlier years made me mistrust them and taught me to look upon them with unvarying suspicion. Therefore was it that when I became rich enough to retire into private life, and more than rich enough for my purposes, I abjured the society of those whom the world had spoiled and sought the society of those who were too young to be tainted by that world. I withdrew myself from the hot atmosphere breathed by men and women, enjoyed in the freshness of the pure air in which Frank, Mary, Artless, and sport of children dwelt. My heart, while closing towards one section of the human race, expanded towards another, and I have loved the infantine race as dearly, oh as dearly as if I had been the father of a vast family. But when I renewed my intercourse with adults, that is to say when I was tempted to join your society in that of the two or three gentlemen and ladies whom I have occasionally met at your house, I felt my love for that infantine race diminishing, or rather their presence afforded me less delight and amusement. It is all this that I deplore, and the result has been that my home now seems lonely, and the time hangs heavily upon my hands. Nay, more! You have been the means of affecting that change in me, which has made me selfish, and I feel capable even of sacrificing the happiness of another, so long as I can in any way minister unto my own. I do not understand you, said Pomfret, fearful that these last words implied some vindictive allusion to himself. I will explain my meaning, replied Mr. Gamble. You tell me that you are so deeply involved that ruin stares you in the face. I am so utterly denuded of resources at this moment, answered Pomfret, that I cannot even pay the quarter's income due to my neighbor and late partner, Mr. Mitchell. And if you fail, that poor, paralytic old man will be reduced to beggary, said Gamble. Pomfret covered his face with his hands, and groaned aloud. Nay, more than all this, continued the old bachelor after a long pause, during which he appeared to be sipping his claret complacently, but was in reality reflecting profoundly. More than all this, your partners will be utterly ruined, and they will curse you as the fatal cause of their dishonor and their penery. Your daughter, too, will become a portionless girl, and she will moan the follies of her father that reduced her from a state of comparative affluence to a condition of toil for a poor pittance. Lastly, that fine young man, Leonard Mitchell, will hate and abhor you as the individual who has made his father's last years wretched and intolerable, and deprive the afflicted septuagenarian of the very necessaries of life. All these terrible things, Mr. Pomfret, will be accomplished on the day when your house stops payment. I know it alas too well, exclaimed the unhappy, ruined merchant, clasping his hands together in deep agony. You are not so old, by ten or a dozen years, as I am, continued Mr. Gamble, and yet it does me harm to see you, thus reduced, to despair. But let us not waste precious time. What is the amount that will save you from ruin? I dare not name it, returned Pomfret. This is foolish, exclaimed the old bachelor, severely. Calm answer me, or else let our interview terminate at once. Again I demand of you the amount that can prevent all the lamentable occurrences which I just now detailed. Eighty thousand pounds, was the reply, delivered almost in a fit of desperation. Mr. Gamble Rose opened his desk, and taking out some bank securities, directed the merchant's attention to the sums specified in these documents. Ninety-five thousand pounds, cried Pomfret, astonished at these evidences of a wealth far greater than he had supposed the old bachelor to be possessed of. You perceive, observed Mr. Gamble, returning the papers to his desk and resuming his seat, you perceive that I am the master of means sufficient to save you from destruction. Indeed, I can't spare to some necessary, and even then have four hundred pounds a year left to live upon. But is it possible that you can even entertain the idea of assisting me to such an extent? Cried Mr. Pomfret, scarcely able to believe his own ears, and trembling lest he was indulging in a hope that had no other existence than in a dream. It is quite possible, sir, responded the old bachelor, peaked that his word should be questioned even for a moment. And now it all depends upon yourself. Upon myself, repeated Mr. Pomfret, again surveying his friend with mingled amazement and incredulity. Yes, upon yourself, cried Mr. Gamble, for the amount you require is at your service, provided you consent to accept me as your son-in-law. These words were delivered with a solemn seriousness of tone, which forbade the suspicion that they were uttered jocularly. And so completely astounded was the merchant that several minutes elapsed before he could make any reply. During that interval Mr. Gamble still appeared to sip his claret with calmness, but he was in reality awaiting with no small degree of anxiety the answer that would be given to his proposal. But do you love my daughter, inquired Pomfret at length? I have already told you that I begin to feel lonely and cheerless, replied Mr. Gamble, and, moreover, I am irresistibly attracted towards Miss Ellen. I may also say that I should feel proud and happy to ensure her an independence. At the same time I am not endowed with sufficient philanthropy to induce me to save her father from ruin, except on the condition of receiving her as a wife. If my suit be refused, you are ruined, and will it in that case be prudent to permit her to espouse that young Mitchell, who will likewise be reduced to penery? It is clear that if she do not accept my offer, circumstances will effectually interpose a barrier between herself and Leonard. And thus, happen what will, she must renounce all hope of becoming his bride. And with a conviction that she does love Leonard Mitchell, would you accompany her to the altar? Enquired Mr. Pomfret. Assuredly, replied Mr. Gamble, I have set my mind upon it, and will risk everything. She is young, and a first love is seldom more than a blaze of straw, ardent, while it lasts, but speedily exhausted. When she comes to know me well, and to reflect that I have saved her father from ruin and dishonor, when, too, she perceives all the delicate attentions with which I shall surround her, and the constancy of my endeavor to ensure her happiness. She will yield to the new influences to which she will be subjected, and she will learn to look upon the old man with respect and veneration, with gratitude and kindly feelings, if not with love. The trial may be for the first few weeks severe, and there may be deep regrets following upon the disappointment of the vivid hopes now cherished in her bosom. But, believe me, she will at length succumb to the conviction that her happiness has been better consulted by the course chalked out for her by us, than by that into which the present state of her affections might impel her. Pomfret was man of the world enough to know that all this was mere sophistry, though Gamble himself believed that he was arguing on the truest principles. But the merchant was better acquainted than the old bachelor with the female heart. Nevertheless, the temptation was irresistible to the man who hovered upon the verge of ruin. The feelings of the father were sacrificed to the anxieties of the merchant, who saw destruction staring him in the face, and grasping Gamble's hand, he said in a deep, impressive tone, she is yours. In the meantime, Ellen Pomfret, little suspecting how her destinies were being disposed of elsewhere, was passing a couple of hours with Mr. Mitchell and Leonard. The young man had noticed the moment she entered their parlor that her countenance was pale, and with the eagle glance of a lover, he likewise discovered that she had been weeping. Burning with impatience to ascertain the cause of her grief, and not choosing to elicit an explanation in the presence of his father, for fear anything might transpire to give the old gentleman pain as he was much attached to the young maiden whom he looked upon as his intended daughter-in-law, Leonard exclaimed as soon as she had paid her respects to his parent. You're just in time, Ellen, to help me tie up a few new plants which I have purchased. And, taking her hand, he led her into the little garden at the back of the house. A very little garden it was, too, but Leonard had made the most of the circumscribed space, and he had in reality bought some choice flowers in the morning. It was not, however, to them that he now directed the lovely girl's attention, but the moment they stood in the enclosure he took her hand, saying, Ellen, dearest, you are unhappy this evening. Pray tell me what has annoyed you. Miss Pomfret, who was ingenuousness itself, instantly related the scene that had taken place between herself and her father, and the tears again started from her eyes as she remembered the harsh, almost brutal manner in which he had spoken to her. Leonard hastened to kiss those diamond drops away from the damask cheeks, a down which they trickled, and he consoled her by observing that persons in business were liable to those annoyances that occasionally soured the temper and rendered them severe or hasty, even to the very beings whom they loved the most. Leonard's power of persuasion was omnipotent with Ellen, and she speedily sniffled through her tears. And now, continued the young man, I will give you a piece of intelligence that will, I hope, indemnify you, dearest, for the little vexation you have just experienced. My father has this day received a letter from an influential friend stating that I may rely upon being nominated to a clerkship in a government office in the course of a month or six weeks. Ellen expressed her delight at these news, and after the interchange of a few tender sentiments, the nature of which our readers can well divine, the youthful lovers returned to the parlor. There they sat, and conversed with the old gentleman, until the timepiece on the mantel indicated that it was twenty-five minutes past nine, when Ellen rose into a curtain-partcher, Leonard escorting her to the door of the adjoining house, where she dwelt. Her father had returned about ten minutes previously. The curtains were drawn in the parlor, the lamp was lighted, and the supper was in readiness. The moment she entered the room, the beautiful girl cast an anxious look towards her sire, together from his countenance, if possible, whether his mind had become more composed. But she was shocked to perceive that his cheeks were ashy pale, and that a strange, ominous light gleamed in his restless, anxious eyes. She withdrew her gaze instantly, fearful lest he might observe that she noticed his peculiarity of manner and altered appearance. And, making some casual remark, she turned to lay aside her bonnet, and also to conceal the tears that again started into her eyes. For Ellen was of an affectionate disposition, and loved her father tenderly, and it touched her heart to the very core to behold the traces of deep, deep care upon his countenance. You have seen Leonard this evening, Ellen, said Mr. Pomfrit, in a tone so hollow that it startled her, and she could scarcely compose herself sufficiently, to murmur and affirmative. And do you love him very, very much? asked the merchant after a long pause. Oh, my dearest father, she exclaimed, you know that I do. Have we not, as it were, been brought up together from childhood? Yes, yes, it is natural, said Mr. Pomfrit bitterly. And he walked to the mental piece, turning his back towards his daughter, to hide the emotions that swelled his heart almost to bursting. But Ellen caught sight of his agonizing countenance in the mirror, and, terribly excited, she sprang towards him and threw her arms around his neck, crying, Oh, my dearest parent, some dreadful grief oppresses you. May I not share it? Can I not console you? Is there anything that I, poor weak girl that I am, can do to ease of this load of sorrow? Yes, Ellen, hastily responded her father, determined to come at once to an explanation with his daughter, for suspense and delay were intolerable. You can do all, everything for me, my honor, in your hands. Tis for you also to decide whether we shall be reduced to penery, or remain in affluence. Whether that poor, palsy old man next door shall continue to enjoy the comforts of life, or be plunged into destitution. In a word, Ellen, my very existence is in your hands, for I will not live to witness all the terrible afflictions that my accursed folly will have entailed upon ourselves, as well as upon others. Ellen was so taken by surprise, as these alarming revelations burst upon her, that she started back in dismay, and surveyed her sire with the look of such passionate grief, that he himself grew affrighted in his turn, and hastily approaching her he led her to his seat, saying, For God's sake, compose yourself, Ellen, you have need of all your firmness now. With a frantic gesture she besought him to keep her no longer in suspense, but to tell her the worst at once. I will not torture you, my love, said the wretched man standing like a culprit in her presence. Know, then, that I hover on the brink of ruin. It is not that I think bankruptcy dishonorable. Know, the most upright men are liable to misfortune, and cannot control adversity. But where I to fail, as I am now circumstanced, I could not save my name from indelible disgrace, nor my partners, and the Mitchell's likewise from ruin. Speechless with horror and amazement, the young girl gazed fixedly on her father as he spoke. But there are still means of saving me, and the others also, he resumed, in a tone so broken that it indicated how difficult and how painful it was for him to give utterance to this prelude to an announcement which he knew must prove terrible indeed. And those means, demanded Ellen, recovering the use of her own voice, for she saw that there was an allusion to herself in her father's words. Nerve yourself, my poor girl, to hear something very shocking to your gentle heart, said Mr. Pomfret. I am nerved now, she replied, her features assuming this settled aspect of despair. But the means, she repeated, more impatiently. That you renounce Leonard Mitchell and accept Mr. Gamble as your husband, said the wretched father, speaking with averted head. A shriek escaped Ellen's lips, and she started wildly from her seat. Then, staggering forward a few paces, she fell into her parents' arms, not insensible, but sobbing confulsively. She had been prepared for some dreadful tidings. She was not, however, nervous to meet such a frightful destiny as that so suddenly offered to her contemplation, and she felt as if she must sink under the blow. Mr. Pomfret bore her to the sofa, and, placing himself by her side, said all he could do to console her. No, not all he could, but all he dared, for he had not courage enough to recall the words that had sealed her fate. We must, however, draw a veil over this afflicting scene. Suffice it to say that the noble-minded girl eventually came to the determination to sacrifice herself for the sake of her father. Yes, and for the sake of the palsied parent of her lover also. There is a crisis in misery that is in reality despair, although it may have the outward appearance of resignation. And this was the condition of the young lady when she said to her father, I will not prove a disobedient daughter, I therefore consent to renounce Leonard Mitchell, and to become the wife of him who demands my hand as the price of the saccour which he is willing to afford you in this embarrassment. Mr. Pomfret embraced her with the most unfeigned arduor, and thanked her in the most touching terms for her devotedness, and, strange as it may perhaps appear, Ellen besought him that the sacrifice should be accomplished as speedily as possible. This is, however, invariably the case with a noble heart that resolves upon the immolation of its best affections. The maiden feared that selfish considerations should arise from delay to turn her from her purpose, and she was anxious that herself martyrdom should be performed heroically and with good grace. But all, in one short hour, how changed her pure soul, how bitter, how intense, was now the disappointment that succeeded the golden dream she had cherished. How stern and bleak and cheerless seemed that world on which she had lately looked as on a fair and sunny landscape, fragrant with flowers and beautiful with verduor. Yes, gloomy indeed is the earth and worthless is existence when viewed through the same mirror which reflects the heart's ruined hopes and blighted affections. But who was to break the news to Leonard Mitchell? Ellen was not equal to that task. Indeed, she dared not see him. She felt that if she were to gaze again upon his handsome countenance, if she were to read despair in his eloquent eyes and listen to the passionate accents of his melodious though manly voice, appealing to her against the stern resolve to which circumstances had impelled her, she felt, we say, that she should yield, and that by soul-yielding she should fix her parents' doom. Mr. Pomfret, therefore, took upon himself the mournful task of imparting to the young man the disappointment that awaited him, and this was done the morning after the incidents which we have just described. The merchant threw himself upon Leonard's mercy, invoking him by all he deemed sacred not to seek to see his daughter, nor dissuade her by letter from her holy purpose of self-devotion. At first the impetuosity of youth rendered the lover deaf to all reason and to all entreaties, but by degrees he appeared to receive a kind of chivalrous inspiration from the heroic example of her whom he adored, and he awoke to the necessity of consenting to that dreadful sacrifice if only that his sire should not want bread in his helpless old age. He, however, begged that Mr. Mitchell might be kept in the dark relative to all these occurrences, until Ellen should become the wife of Mr. Gamble, when it would be too late to recall the sacrifice and useless to repine against it. Moreover, Leonard resolved to break the news so gradiently to his father that the effect of the blow occasioned by his son's deep disappointment might be as much mitigated as possible, and to these are proposals Mr. Pomfret was only too willing to assent, and now, as another proof of Leonard's devotedness to his afflicted sire, must be mentioned the fact that, though bearing in his bosom a heart rung almost to breaking, he still maintained a calm exterior, and during the week which elapsed, ere Ellen became the wife of Mr. Gamble, Mr. Mitchell beheld nothing strange nor suspicious in his son's manner. And at the expiration of that week the sacrifice was consummated, the marriage was solemnized by a special license and with great privacy, and it was not known in Stanford Street until a late hour on the wedding day that such an extraordinary alliance had taken place. By that time the victim bride was far away from London, seated by the sight of her old husband in the post chase that was bearing them to some country place where they were to pass the honeymoon. Mr. Pomfret had received the price stipulated for his daughter, and his honor, his commercial honor, we mean, was saved. Alas, how many marriages of this unnatural kind are constantly taking place in this civilized, this enlightened, this Bible-reading, this moral country? How many fair young maidens are purchased by old men's gold, the performance of the religious ceremony only adding a hideous mockery to a flagrant injustice? And yet how shocked are those mercenary fathers and matchmaking mothers who thus sacrifice their daughter's pure affections to the most selfish interests? How shocked, we say, are they when they read that there are countries in the world where men by their wives outright? O ye Exeter Hall Saints, who send forth missionaries to Christianize the heathen amongst whom such barter or purchase prevails, have ye nothing to reform at home? Is the muscleman who buys his serration or his Georgian wife in a slave market more reprehensible than the tottering old lord or the nabob with his liver eaten away, who purchases in English a scotch or an Irish beauty in the market of the West End fashion? Go ye Exeter Hall Saints, into that sphere where all is glitter outside and hollowness of heart within, and count the many titled or wealthy septu-genaries to whose corpse-like side, fresh and blooming girls of nineteen and twenty, are bound by marriage ties? Are such alliances founded upon those holy affections which God has implanted in the human breast? Or are they proofs of the rebellion which selfish interests consummate against nature's laws and heaven's own divine promptings? But if we direct our attention to that sphere wherein the industrious millions struggle with starvation, oppression, and wrong, do we find such instances of outrage against all that is natural, moral, and just? Do we discover the agricultural laborer, or the mechanic of seventy, with a wife of nineteen? Out of a hundred marriages in humble life there is not more than one such case, and yet the aristocratic, the wealthy, and the great are ever reclaiming upon the immortality of the poor. Immortality indeed. Tizyuyi aristocrats, who are in reality demoralized. Tizyuyi oppressors, who would stand a far better chance of winning a place in heaven, worthy to imitate the humble virtues of the oppressed. All the soul sickens at the idea that a lazy, insolent, intolerable oligarchy should be permitted to keep so much abuse upon the toiling, starving, deeply wronged millions. But to return to the thread of our narrative. It was in the evening of the day on which Ellen became the wife of Mr. Gamble that Mr. Mitchell was seated at the open window of his front parlor, a wire blind enabling him to know all that passed on the street, but preventing persons outside from seeing into the room. Leonard was sitting near him, and wracking his brain for the best means to commence a conversation to which he might give such a turn as to enable him to break the news of the day to his father. But every time the young man prepared to speak, his heart's emotions rose as if to suffocate him, and at last he was obliged to hurry from the parlor and seek his own chamber in order to give free vent to feelings that could no longer be restrained. Scarcely had he left the room when two gentlemen, dwellers in Stamford Street, encountered each other precisely opposite the Mitchell's window, and after the usual greetings one said, I am just going to call upon our mutual friend, Mr. Pomfret, to congratulate him. Congratulate him, exclaimed the other, upon what event? On the marriage of his daughter with the wealthy Mr. Gamble. Was the reply, What, you have not heard of it? Oh, it is quite true. I can assure you, the ceremony took place this morning. I have the fact from the Collergeman's own lips. But I thought that Miss Pomfret was engaged to Leonard Mitchell. Observed the other gentlemen evidently much amazed by the intelligence he had just received. Hush! said the first speaker, glancing significantly towards the open window, and, taking his friend's arm, he drew him a few paces farther on. But had they stayed to enter into further explanations, it would have been all the same. The conviction that his unhappy son had sustained a most frightful blow to his happiness burst upon the mind of the wretched father like a tornado on a traveler in the desert. And when Leonard returned to the room, he found the old man a corpse in his chair. End of Section Seventy. Section Seventy-one of Mysteries of London, Volume Four. This is a LibraVox recording. All LibraVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibraVox.org. Mysteries of London, Volume Four by George W. M. Reynolds. Conclusion of the History of the Haunted Houses, Part One. Three years had elapsed since the occurrence is just related, and it was on a fine summer afternoon that a tall handsome young soldier in the graceful undress of a private in a dragoon regiment was walking down Regent Street. His countenance was somewhat sunburned, but there was about him such an air of gentility that even had he been far less good looking than he really was, it would have been impossible to pass him by with indifference. His figure was slight, but admirably formed and well-knit. His legs were straight as a dart, and he carried his arms without gentle rounding, which is so compatible with military grace. His whiskers were small, but curling and glossy, and the slight mustache that he wore was quite sufficient to turn the head of any giddy girl the more so that as his lips were always kept the least thing apart, that fringe set off his fine teeth to greater advantage. His rich brown hair worn short according to the regulation stood out in small but natural curls from beneath his undress cap, and the somewhat darkly penciled brows arched above eyes of deep blue, and in which there was a melancholy expression that did not, however, deteriorate from the masculine beauty of his person. His uniform was ruthlessly neat, his boots well polished, his buckskin gloves white as snow, and did he remove those gloves, his hands appeared to be almost as delicate in complexion as a lady's. In a word, he was the very bow ideal of a soldier, and nature's stamp of aristocracy was upon him, yet was he only a private, a humble private in his regiment. We said that the day was remarkably fine, and it was at that hour when the fashionable world goes forth to wow away the time until dinner. Regent Street was throng with gay equipages filled with elegantly dressed ladies and attended by domestic singali liveries, and the footways were likewise crowded, but with that mere miscellaneous company, for when the daughters of fashion appear abroad, in the afternoon the daughters of crime likewise come forth, and yet we doubt whether the immorality that walks the pavement is so much greater than that which rides in carriages as the world generally supposes. Behold that magnificent equipage wherein the elderly Dowager and the beautyous young girl of 17 or 18 are seated. It stops at the door of a fashionable linen drapers, and the Dowager leans heavily on the arm of the tall handsome footman who hands her out, while the young lady throws a rapid but significant glance at the slim graceful page who has likewise dismounted from behind the vehicle. Or again, behold that gentleman on horseback moving leisurely along, and gazing intently at each carriage, which approaches down the wide avenue, and lengthy recognizes the equipage which he is so anxiously expecting, and writing up he exchanges a few words with the fair creature who is its sole occupant. A day, an hour, and a place are named for an appointment of even a far less innocent nature than this one, and the lover passes on with triumph in his heart. While the carriage whirls away, the titled lady who has already assented to a step that must lead to the dishonor of her husband. Again, behold the splendid chariot with a coronet on the panel, and in which three beautyous girls with their maternal parent, herself a fine woman, are seated. Would you believe that care was harbored in hearts where smiles appear on radiant countenances, and yet the eldest of those sisters is a prey to a mortal apprehension. She has been frail, weak, the victim of her own strong desires, and the opportunity afforded by some handsome, but obscure, and ineligible lover. And now she dreads, lest a few months should betray her unchastity and ruin her forever. But we have not leisure to extend this picture. We must return to the handsome dragoon who is walking in a leisurely but somewhat thoughtful manner down Regent Street. And wherefore was he thus partially pensive? Because nearly three years had elapsed since he had last seen London, and his return to the capital revived a thousand reflections which were indeed sufficient to touch his heart painfully. He thought of his early youth, the hopes which he had cherished, when the future was bright before him. The questioning disappointments and accumulated miseries that had suddenly fallen upon his head, and his present position so different from what it ought to be. Yes, and he thought, too, of one whom he had loved so fondly, oh, so fondly, that his passion was a worship and idolatry, and whose image was indelibly impressed upon his soul. Time had taught him the necessity of resignation to a lot which he could not alter, a fate which he could not change, a destiny which he could not subdue, and though that same resignation, aided by the faith of a sincere Christian and a firm reliance on him who disposed of all things, had deprived his anguish of its sting and blunted the iron that had entered into his soul. There were nevertheless moments when the cloud came over the handsome countenance and the soldier's heart swelled almost to bursting. And this was now the state of his mind as he passed along the fashionable quarter of that metropolis where he had arrived with his regiment only the evening before. He had no particular aim in view. He was not on his way to see any friends, the only being on the face of the earth in whom he felt interested was she whom he had once loved so devotedly, whom he still loved, with the mellowed and almost embittered affection of disappointment, and whom he dared not inquire after a much less venture to visit. His return to the capital had unsettled him. He felt no inclination to remain in the barracks and pursue his favorite recreation of reading, and he had therefore walked abroad in the hope of diverting his mind from the unpleasant thoughts that intruded upon it. The handsome dragoon had just entered the arcade of the quadrant when he was suddenly struck as if by paralysis or as it were with a violent blow dealt by an invisible hand. He stopped short, then staggered back a few paces, and leaned against one of the pillars for support, his countenance the while denoting the most intense emotions, for issuing from a shop were two persons both of whom he instantaneously recognized, but on one of whom his eyes became riveted as if by enchantment. Yes, there was Ellen, the Ellen whom he had loved, whom he still loved, leaning on the arm of her old husband, that man who had robbed him, Leonard Mitchell, of the object of such a fervent and undying affection, but neither that lady herself nor Mr. Gamble observed the young soldier for on issuing from the shop they passed down the quadrant, and thus their backs were almost immediately turned upon him, recovering his presence of mind and passing his hand hastily across his brow, as if to tear away a mist that hung upon his eyes. Leonard Mitchell, for he indeed was the handsome young Gregoon, was already pushing his way amidst the crowd, and hurrying after Ellen when the thought flashed, like blasting lightning to his soul that she was an elegantly dressed lady leaning on the arm of a husband who was evidently a gentleman of substance, and he was a common soldier. Oh, never, never were the occurs class distinctions of an artificial state of society felt so bitterly as on the present occasion. Not that Leonard mistrusted Ellen's heart, not that he feared of experiencing a cold reception from one of her generous nature, but a sense of propriety, a deep conviction of what was due under circumstances to herself and her husband caused him suddenly to stop short, then in obedience to the new impulse which was received from this revulsion of his feelings, he turned abruptly from the quadrant into one of those streets that stretched towards the district of Golden Square, walking on like one intoxicated and with eyes that saw nothing as if all the powers of vision physical and mental were absorbed in the necessity of internal contemplation. The young man felt as if he were going mad, there was a fearful hurry in his brain and yet palpable and distinct as it were in his heart was the image that for years had been there, but each feature, each lineament of which had suddenly received the most vivid colorings of revival. She was beautiful as ever, more beautiful if possible, in the glory of her womanhood and although her countenance was somewhat pale and had a melancholy, yes a very melancholy expression, this only added to her charms in his estimation by rendering her the more interesting. By degrees his thoughts grew more subtle, the whirlwind that raged in his brain abated in violence and suddenly there sprang up in his soul a feeling of pleasure at the idea that her features wore that shade of mournfulness. For oh there could be no doubt as to the cause, she was unhappy, unhappy on account of him, she had not been forgotten him, she remembered their youthful loves, perhaps he was still dear to her. That thought became more delightful as it seemed more consistent with probability and now he was not altogether so thoroughly devoid of hope, so profoundly afraid to black despair as he had been a few minutes previously. Hope indeed, what could he hope he knew not, he did not immediately pause to ask himself the question, but he abandoned himself to the delicious reverie into which the alter current of his thoughts thus madly hurried him. When he awoke as it were from this day dream he was astonished to find that it had lasted so long and without interruption. For while wrapped up in that vision he had threaded many streets, accomplished a considerable distance, and was now close to the toll gate of Waterloo Bridge, entering upon that mighty viaduct. He seated himself in one of the recesses and again gave way to the meditations, which the incident of the afternoon had conjured up. But how was it that Leonard Mitchell had taken the direction of Waterloo Bridge in that species of somnambulism under which he had been laboring? Because it was the way to Stamford Street and in his walking reverie, an irresistible impulse had influenced his footsteps even while he appeared to be proceeding at random. And what now was the nature of his reflections? He experienced an ardent longing to cross the bridge, to enter Stamford Street and to behold once more the house where all his early years were passed. Yes, and to behold also the dwelling of her whom he loved. But did he know that Mr. Amiz's gamble still resided in Stamford Street? He was completely ignorant on the subject. And an ardent curiosity impelled him to clear up the pointing question. Still he hesitated amidst all the feelings by which he was now animated and the longings by which he was prompted. A sense of duty rose up in his mind, of duty towards her whom he loved, towards her husband, and towards himself. Why should he incur the risk of meeting her and perhaps unsettling her studied attempts at unmixed devotion to him whose name she bore? Why should he do ought that might arouse the suspicion or excite the jealousy of the old man who doubtless treasured his young wife as a peerless jewel? And why should he resuscitate all his own griefs and sorrows by an encounter with one who was lost to him perhaps forever? These questions did he ask himself over and over again. They were the basis of the reasoning which he held with his own heart, his own soul in order to crush the promptings that urged him towards the scene of past and happier days. Alas, with all his natural rectitude of principle, with all his generosity of disposition, with all his honorable feelings, Leonard Mitchell was but a poor, weak mortal, like the rest of us. And while still arguing with himself, he was traversing the bridge. He was directing his way towards Stamford Street. As he drew nearer to the end of the long thoroughfare, that end which joins the Black Friars Road, he relaxed his speed and though his pace was slower, his heart beat more rapidly, I think he came within sight of the three corner houses. He paused. He stopped. Heaven alone knows how acute were the emotions that agitated within him then. Again he moved on what he called all his courage, all his presence of mind to his aid. And now he passed by Mr. Gamble's house. Irresistibly he glanced towards the window. His eyes met those of Ellen and he heard the faint scream of astonishment that burst from her lips. But the beauty's countenance had disappeared. Had she then fainted? No, her feelings had doubtless overcome her for a few moments. But she speedily recovered. She reappeared at the window. And a rapid sign conveyed to him the intimation that she would come forth and join him presently. All this passed so quickly as to be unobserved by any of the neighbors. Although it is probable that had 10,000 pairs of eyes been riveted on the house, Ellen would have not acted differently. For she saw no one save him of whom she had heard nothing for three long years. Leonard half intoxicated with joy at the signal that had been made by her fair hand and aided in its interpretation by the expression of her countenance. Scarcely believing, however, that such happiness could indeed irate him. And not pausing for a single instant to ask himself whether he were acting well or even prudently. Leonard, we say, passed on the central of that three houses were still occupied by Mr. Pomford. For his name was on the brass plate on the front door, but the corner house, the house where Leonard had dwelt so many years and where his revered father had died in so sudden and awful a manner, was shut up aboard intimating that it was too late. The young soldier had not, however, many minutes leisure to reflect upon the scenes of past days for aware that Ellen could not prudently join him within a few yards of her own door. He crossed the Black Friars Road and loitered at the corner of Holland Street. In a short time he beheld her approaching. She saw him. She followed the direction which he took, and he proceeded farther down the comparatively secluded place which he had deemed most fitting for this interview. At length he halted, and in another minute his heart's idle was by his side. She had purposely put on a cottage bonnet and a plain shawl, and thus the few people who passed saw nothing very remarkable in a modestly dressed female and company with a private dragoon. But even if they had attracted disagreeable notice, what was it to them who had now no thought, no eyes, no ears, saved for each other? Without a word at first, but after a brief though earnest pressure of the hand Leonard gave the young lady his arm and they passed along Holland Street. A few low but anxious inquiries were rapidly interchanged and as speedily answered but frequent long and tending were the looks they fixed upon each other. A few minutes walk brought them to Southwick Bridge to which they ascended and when seated in one of their recesses of that almost entirely deserted viaduct, the restraint under which they had hitherto labored was immediately thrown aside. At length we meet again Ellen said Leonard taking her hand and retaining it in his own while he gazed finally upon her. Yes she replied murmuringly and holding down her blush and countenance but do you think the worst of me because yielding to a sudden and irresistible impulse and availing myself of my husband's temporary absence I thus stole forth to meet you to hear from your own lips that you are happy. Happy repeated Leonard bitterly then unwilling to cause her additional pain for his ejaculation had already brought the diamond tears to her violet eyes he said how can I think the worst of you Ellen when you come forth as a sister to pass a few minutes with a brother who cannot dares not visit you at your own abode but rather let me ask whether you Ellen are happy. The young lady endeavored to give utterance to a reply but overpowered by her emotions she burst into an agony of weeping unable to restrain his own feelings any longer Leonard caught her in his arms strained her to his breast and imprinted a thousand kisses upon her moist lips and her tear bedude cheeks for no eye save that of God beheld them at this moment several minutes past there either could recover the faculty of speech and then they spoke so low so feelingly and in such accents of deep deep sorrow that it was easy for each to perceive that the love of the other had not become impaired by time separation or circumstances you were wrong oh you were very wrong Leonard said Ellen to abandon your home and your friends the moment after your father's funeral it is true that you did not leave us altogether in uncertainty and suspense relative to your fate that you left for me a note equating me with your determination to enlist and earn your bread honorably but oh wherefore have adopted that distressing alternative can you not understand my feelings Ellen asked the young man almost perproachfully my father's death left me without interest to obtain the situation that had been promised to me through him and his income likewise perished with him I had no claim upon Mr. Palmford neither would I have accepted E. Lee Monsonary assistance what could I do I disposed of the furniture to pay off the few debts sowing by my father and the expenses of the funeral and I made all my arrangements with as much haste as possible in order to be able to leave that once happy neighborhood before you and and your husband should return to it I then repaired to Hounslow and enlisted yesterday my regiment was ordered to London and within a few hours of my arrival I experienced the happiness the indescribable happiness of thus encountering you and now Ellen let us think for at all events let us talk no more of the past I cannot bear to look back upon it but my God he exclaimed passionately and suddenly interrupting himself wherefore should I dread to retrospect since the happiness of the present is only transitory and there is no hope for the future thus speaking young man covered his face with his hands and moaned audibly oh this is dreadful exclaimed Ellen with accents of despair lettered I implore you not to give way to affliction thus listen to me my beloved one for you are as dearly and as fondly loved as ever and I hesitate not to give you that assurance oh is it possible can I believe my ears cried the young Dragoon now turning upon the lady accountants suddenly lighting up with the animation of indescribable joy and bliss as the rays of the setting sun played upon those handsome features but you forget he said after a brief pause and with a cloud again appearing upon his face that you are the wife of another then it is you who loved me not exclaimed Ellen in a tone of disappointment and reproached not love you repeated Leonard oh how cruel of you thus to speak and again snatching her to his bosom he covered her lips and cheeks with kisses kisses which she as fondly and as passionately returned yes Ellen you know that I love and adore you he added in a voice of a tender sincerity that I'm not ashamed Leonard to give you a reciprocal assurance said the young wife of another oh wherefore should I attempt to restrain my natural feelings believe me that I am much changed since last we met I no longer see things in the same light for to speak candidly I have a deep conviction of the disgrace of having been sold and bought for that dross which meant so much prize I cannot help the thoughts that steal upon me and therefore it is that I have long ceased to look upon my father with respect I feel that he sacrificed me me his only daughter whom he might have made so happy I feel also that he who is my husband hesitated not to emulate the hopes of my youth to his own selfishness these are sad nay terrible thoughts Leonard but I again assure you that I cannot combat against them it is true that my father is now rich and prosperous and that he sometimes thanks me as the authorists of his fortunes true also is it that my husband treats me with the utmost kindness but never never ought I to have been placed in the position to receive such thanks from the one nor such kindness from the other for between them they have wrecked my happiness lighted my hopes ruined all my youthful dreams of felicity there are times then when I feel as if it would be a relief to fly from the neighborhood of a father whom I am almost compelled to look upon as an enemy and from the arms of a husband who is loathsome to me as she uttered these last words in a low tone but with a bitter emphasis Ellen bent her countenance her burning countenance over her lover's hand which she pressed to her lips then you would fly with me even now dearest he said in a voice rendered tremulous by indescribable emotions the circumstances permit me to accompany you Ellen made no verbal answer but the rapturous manner in which she again pressed his hand to her rich red mouth was a sufficiently significant response alas that may not be resumed Leonard warmfully and now the young lady absolutely shuddered in his arms as if an ice chill had suddenly fallen upon a heart an instant before so warm with passion no that may not be continued Leonard determined not to leave her in the least degree of suspense behold this uniform a uniform which is accursed under all circumstances not only on account of the soul crushing merciless discipline and degrading servitude of which it is the badge but also because it constitutes the barrier to the wishes which you so generously intimated in which I so enthusiastically share but your discharge can be purchased can it not ask Ellen bending down her head to conceal her deep blushes when I enlisted Ellen solemnly and mournfully replied Leonard I swore within myself an oath an oath ratified by all I deem sacred in heaven by all my hopes of and hereafter to follow the course of this new destiny which I carved out for myself and if possible to rise to distinction in the service which I dare not quit I was young when I made that vow and the hope which dictated it never will be fulfilled for the English soldier is a serf a slave and the idea of rising ha ha and Leonard laughed wildly at all events he added hastily and again assuming a solemn tone I respect the oath that I took and you who love me will not counsel me to break it but we can see each other often Ellen we can meet as we have met tonight then without assurance must I content myself landed interrupted the impassioned young lady in whom as the reader may have surmised the hand of affliction the tyranny of a parent and the selfishness of the old man who bought her with his gold had deaden those delicate feelings and even undermine the virtuous principles which had characterized her in her days of happy innocence yes return Leonard with that understanding must we endeavor to console ourselves and now my beloved one it is time for me to leave you remember he added bitterly that though a man in years I belong to a service where I am treated as a child and limited to particular hours would to God that you were emancipated from this dreadful thrall then exclaimed Ellen weeping nay I was wrong to say ought to afflict you returned Leonard embracing her tenderly a few minutes more did they pass together exchanging the most passionate caresses and earnest protestations of unalterable affection and when they separated at last it was not without having arranged for another meeting at an early day it would be scarcely possible to describe the feelings which animated the young lovers as they respectively hastened to their abodes the one to his barracks the other to her home as we have before stated circumstances had so warped Ellen's mind that she paused not even to reflect for an instant upon the dangerous course on which she had entered she had no longer any ties to bind her with fully love to her father and she never had any bond of affection to link her to her husband therefore all she now thought of or cared to think of was that she had recovered a lover whom she adored and she would have ridiculed and laughed at the idea of disgrace and of a ruined reputation had any friend counseled her in the matter on his side Leonard was less hardened for such indeed is the term which might be applied to Ellen's state of mind to the consequences of this new phase of his existence he shattered at the thought of inducing a young wife to conduct herself in a manner so injurious to her husband's happiness and he resolved in his calmer moments that when he met Ellen again according to the appointment already arranged he would represent to her the necessity of their eternal separation but when they did meet and in a secluded place she appeared so ravishingly beautiful and spoke with so much tenderness and seemed so completely happy in his society and was with all so unfeinedly loving that he could not bring himself to give utterance to the words that trembled upon his tongue words that would have chased away those charming smiles dimmed with tears the luster of those melting eyes hushed with sighs that language of fervid passion and change to dark despair all that bright and glowing bliss therefore they separated at second time with an arrangement to meet again and on the occasion of the third interview Leonard found himself less disposed than before to make a representation which would be fatal to the happiness of both to be brief interview succeeded interview Leonard resolving that each one should be the last until at length love's dalliance became irresistible in its consequences and opportunity serving in all respects the lovers were criminal from that day forth Leonard thought no more of the impropriety of their meetings which thereafter grew more frequent and longer in duration we shall here interrupt the thread of our narrative for a brief space in order to make a few observations upon the condition of the private soldier and in the first instance let us record our conviction that there is not a more generous heart a nobler-minded or a more humane set of men breathing than those who constitute the ranks of the British army while there is not a more tyrannical overbearing ill-liberal and self-sufficient class than that composed of the officers of this army but how is the latter fact to be accounted for because the army is the mere plaything of the aristocracy a means of providing for the younger sons of noblemen and enabling title mamas to show off their striplings in red coats what opinion can we have of the constitution of the army so far as the officers are concerned when we find Prince Albert suddenly created a field marshal such a spectacle is nauseating in the extreme and the German must have exercibly bad taste or else be endowed with inordinate conceit to hold the baton of a marshal when he has not even the military knowledge of a drummer boy since the army is thus made a mere tool in the hands of a rascally aristocracy what sympathy can possibly exist between the officers and the men the former look upon the latter as the scum of the earth mere slaves on that level with Jew blacks and hence the barbarous cry of flog flog but there is no love lost between the classes for the soldiers hate and abhor their officers whom they naturally most justly look upon as their tyrants and oppressors it is enough to make the blood boil with indignation to think that those fine stalwart gallant fellow should be kicked about at the caprice of a wretched instant or contemptible cornet just loosened from his mamas apron strings or bullied by older officers whose only excellence is their relationship to nobility and their power to obtain promotion by purchase the generality of the officers in the british army are nothing more nor less than a set of purse prod bloodhounds whose greatest delight is to behold the blood streaming down the backs of those men who alone win their country's battles when the duke of york who was a humane man though as great a scamp has ever had a column of infamy erected in his memory limited corporal punishment to 300 lashes the full amount was invariably inflicted in 19 out of 20 cases but even this would not satisfy the bloodhounds who annoyed and pestered the duke on the subject to such an extent that he was literally bullied into empowering them to hold general regimental courts marshal by whose decision 500 lashes might be administered to the unhappy victim four years and years was the torture of military flagging in england a shame and a scandal to all europe and it was absolutely necessary that a fine fellow should be murdered at hanselow by the accursed lash before the barbers government would interfere all the world knows that a british soldier was murdered in this revolting manner and in the presence of his horror-stricken comrades for be it remembered that when these appalling spectacles take place the eyes that weep in the hearts that grow faint are those of the soldiers never of the officers again we ask then what sympathy can possibly exist between the privates and those in command none the soldiers would be more groveling than spaniels if they could possibly kiss the hands that cuff them or lick the shoes of those who kick and spurn them the british soldier has his feelings as well as others eye and his spirits too and he feels the iron of a cruel discipline in a heartless system rankling in his very soul the celebrated john wilks was wanting to say the very worst use you can put a man too is to hang him we agree with the dictum but we avert in addition that it is an equally biased use to flog him in fact the whole treatment of the soldier from the day of his enlistment until that of his discharge is one continuous system of tyranny deception is made use of to ensnare him into the service a crushing despotism is maintained to render him a docile pliant tool while he is in it and the basis then gratitude marks his departure from it when he is turned on the world without a penny to help him the infamy commences with the recruiting sergeant is perpetuated by all the officers and is consummated by the government take the case of Leonard Mitchell in respect to enlistment the young man was assured by the recruiting sergeant that his pay would be a guinea a week it however turned out to be only nine shilling four pence from which five shillings ten pence were stopped for messing and washing two shilling seven half pence for clothes and three and a half pence for articles to clean his uniform with leaving seven pence per week or one penny a day for pocket money and this is the condition of a British Dragoon with less pocket money than a school boy receives from his parents the government relies upon the fidelity of the army from the fact that it is offered by the signs of the aristocracy who are of course interested in upholding all kinds of abuses hence the belief which the government entertains that in case of a popular convulsion the troops would be certain to fire upon the people but in spite of the lordlings and aristocratic offshoots who command the army we firmly believe that it all depends upon the cause in which such popular convulsion might arise whether the troops would really massacure their civilian brethren if it were a glorious and just struggle for rights pertinaciously withheld and privileges doggedly refused the army would not act against the people even the government itself has fears on this head ignorant though it be of the real state of feeling anywhere saving the circles of the oligarchy for on a recent occasion when tremendous military preparations were made to resist an expected outbreak of the workingmen of london the government set policemen plain clothes to act as spies in respect to the private soldiers these spies threw themselves in the way of the soldiers enticed them into public houses applied them with drink and in an apparently frank and offhand manner questioned them as to their political opinions some of the gallant privates thus treated and interrogated and little thinking that they were in the fangs of the government moushards candidly expressed their sympathy with the popular cause and as generously declared that they would sooner cut their hands off than draw a trigger against the people adding the working men and the soldiers are brethren what was the consequence the spies followed these brave and open-hearted men home to their barracks and laid information against them so that numbers of British soldiers thus shamefully entrapped found themselves suddenly placed under arrest their commanding officers did not dare bring them to punishment but they are doubtless marked men and will be persecuted with all imaginable ranker and bitterness to conclude this portion of our observations we must remark that if any disturbance had really occurred on that great public occasion now especially alluded to the troops were resolved not to fire upon the people but they were equally determined to avenge themselves most signaling upon the police the day has gone by for the British soldier to permit himself to be made the tool of despotism he will not be behind the French soldier in noble sentiments generous conduct and enlightened feelings any more than he is inferior to him in bravery or discipline but the British soldier must have his wrongs boldly proclaimed and speedily redressed in many if not in most regiments the love of self-improvement is looked upon by the officers as a crime whereas reading should be encouraged as much as possible the barrick room should be made more comfortable at present it is so miserable and cheerless that the private soldier is driven to the public house in spite of his better inclinations in many instances men have become drunkards from this very fact and are then entered in the proscribed list though all this might be avoided were they encouraged to remain and pass their evenings at home the food provided for the mess tables is seldom of a good description frequently of the very worst the meat especially is too often of the vilest kind and unfit for human food yet the poor soldier dares not complain no not even in respect to that for the supply of which he is so heavily malted out of his miserable pittance drunkenness even every now and then is a heinous crime in respect to the private soldier whereas the various stripling that was ever dubbed ensign or cornet may get as tipsy as an owl every night of his life with utter impunity and find the condition of the British soldier is wretched in the extreme and while the officer who buys his rank enjoys every privilege and riots and luxury and dissipation the unfortunate private who is basically and vaguely into the service by a damnable fraud is persecuted for the slightest defense and treated on all occasions as a mere dog and now to return to our narrative six months elapsed and during that period Leonard and Ellen met as often as the duties of the former would permit while the latter cared not to what extent her husband's suspicions were aroused by her frequent and unaccountable absences from home and that the old man did speedily entertain the most heart-rending suspicions was a fact but if he questioned his wife she either took refuge in a stubborn silence or answered him in a manner that only provoked him the more pride prevented him from complaining to her father and he felt that he was now righteous they punished for his selfishness in sacrificing the happiness of the fair young creature to his own desires at length unable any longer to endure the tortures of uncertainty and anxious to know the worst at once or else acquire the conviction that he had misjudged his wife altogether he watched her movements but she aware of his proceeding and without affecting to notice it adopted such precautions as completely to out with her husband and to hold meetings with her lover undiscovered as before up to this period nearly three years and a half the young man had conducted himself in his regiment with the utmost steadiness he had never been reported never incurred the slightest reprimand from his superiors this was an extraordinary case in as much as the private soldier has so many persons to please first the corporal then the sergeant then the sergeant major then the subaltern of the troop next the captain and lastly the commanding officer no not lastly for he must likewise please the regimental sergeant major the agitant and the writing master well all these difficult objects had Leonard accomplished with success and he was likewise beloved by all his comrades he was ever embarrassed of by the evening at the proper hour and during the first six months of his amor with Ellen not even his sweet society caused him to be late we must state that the more completely to enjoy the company of her lover Ellen Gamble had taken a furnished lodging in the neighborhood of his barracks and there they were want to meet the landlady of the place asked no questions or rent being regularly paid and so little use being made of the apartments it was Ellen's delight to provide the succulent suppers for Leonard and these he did not hesitate to partake of with her but as for a direct pecuniary assistance when once she had offered it in as delicate a manner as possible he refused it with so much firmness and with such a glowing countenance that she did not again allude to the subject one evening it was at the expiration of the six months already alluded to the conversation had become more than ordinarily interesting to the pair the supper was later than usual and Ellen had ordered a bottle of champagne by way of an additional treat Leonard was remarkably tempered in his habits and the wine excited him considerably he was not however tipsy only very much animated and the time passed away more rapidly than the lovers had imagined at length the neighboring clock proclaimed the hour when Leonard should be in quarters and starting up he snatched a hasty embrace and hurried away he reached the barracks ten minutes after the proper time and as he was traversing the yard deeply regretting that he should be even such a trifle to light he met a young cornet who had only joined the regiment six weeks previously hola you sir cried lord satanet for such was the officer's appellation what the devil do you mean by coming in at this hour Leonard perceiving that his lordship was so tipsy as to be scarcely able to stand endeavored to get away without making any answer stop there damn your eyes exclaimed the nobleman what's your number oh b 57 very well but damn your eyes repeated his lordship you're drunk as drunk as a beast I declare I'm not my lord cried Leonard indignantly and again he made for the door leading to his quarters you infernal scoundrel were ciferated the splendid specimen of aristocracy lying into a furious passion how dare you tell me you are not drunk why I cursed you you can hardly stand it was his lordship however who staggered I'm sober my lord responded Leonard still keeping his temper and pray permit me to inform your lordship that I once was a gentleman and that your lordship might have a little more consideration for a person so unfortunately circumstances I am a gentleman once repeated lord satanet with an ironical laugh a pretty gentleman I'll be bound your father was a costamonger I suppose and your mother an apple woman a gentleman indeed why damn your eyes you'll be telling me you were a nobleman next a gentleman by the powers a splendid gentleman of a swell mob most likely where I now as I was three years and a half ago my lord said Leonard scarcely able to master his passion you would not dare to address me thus oh la you threaten me eh cried lord satanet come sir tramp off to the gargroom and I'll teach you what it is to insult your officer and be damned to you poor Leonard was compelled to obey but the mere circumstance of being forced to restrain his boiling indignation gave him such an excited appearance that when he arrived at the gargroom the sergeant on duty immediately accused him of having been drinking Leonard scorned to utter a false said and he did not therefore deny the fact but he declared that he was not inebriated a statement which was treated with ridicule to be brief he was kept in custody for three days at the exploration of which a court martial assembled to try him Lord satanet made out the case as black as possible against the unfortunate young men who in his defense most unwisely but very truly avert that his lordship himself was excessively tipsy on the occasion referred to the noblemen denied the statement with much apparent indignation and the judge advocate declared that Leonard Mitchell and materially aggravated his own enormity by such an accusation although the very officer who best fulfilled the judicial functions could have himself have proved had he chosen that Lord satanet was particularly disguised and liquor on the night waiting question the result of that hideous mockery of a trial was that they're accused was pronounced guilty of returning home late in a condition of extreme intoxication and of grossly insulting and even menacing his officer Leonard Mitchell was accordingly condemned to receive 300 lashes with the catamantes he was then removed to the black hole where he passed tonight scarcely enviable even by a man about to suffer the extreme penalty of the law for oh how could he ever again look the world in the face how should he dare meet his much loved Ellen how survived this deep disgrace this flagrant shame this damning infamy but we dare not pause to analyze the thoughts or describe the feelings of the wretched young man during the interval between his condemnation and the execution of the sentence End of section 71