The Master Of The Ceremonies - free ebook by George Manville Fenn

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The Master Of The Ceremonies

George Manville Fenn

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87 chapters

Volume One—Chapter One.

Volume One—Chapter One.

Early morning at Saltinville, with the tide down, and the calm sea shimmering like damasked and deadened silver in the sunshine. Here and there a lugger was ashore, delivering its take of iris-hued mackerel to cart and basket, as a busy throng stood round, some upon the sands, some knee-deep in water, and all eager to obtain a portion of the fresh fish that fetched so good a price amongst the visitors to the town. The trawler was coming in, too, with its freight of fine thick soles and turbot, w

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Volume One—Chapter Two.

Volume One—Chapter Two.

This ended, all rose and knelt down, Isaac with the point of his elbow just touching the point of Eliza’s elbow, for he comforted his conscience over this tender advance by the reflection that marriage, though distant, was a sacred thing; and he made up for his unspiritual behaviour to a great extent by saying the “Amens” in a much louder voice than Cook, and finished off in the short space of silence after the Master of the Ceremonies had read the last Collect, and when all were expected to con

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Volume One—Chapter Three.

Volume One—Chapter Three.

“Oh, Lady Teigne, how can you talk like that!” cried Claire. “It is so shocking.” “What! to say damn? ’Tisn’t. I’ll say it again. A hundred times if I like;” and she rattled out the condemnatory word a score of times over, as fast as she could utter it, while Claire looked on in a troubled way at the hideous old wretch before her. “Well, what are you staring at, pink face! Wax-doll! Baby chit! Don’t look at me in that proud way, as if you were rejoicing because you are young, and I am a little o

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Volume One—Chapter Four.

Volume One—Chapter Four.

“He went out on the parade, miss.” “And Mr Morton?” “Hush, miss! he said I wasn’t to tell. He bought two herrings of Fisherman Dick at the back door, and I believe he’ve gone to the end of the pier, fishing.” “I’ll come down, Eliza.” Eliza tripped off to hurry down to the handsome young dragoon waiting in the kitchen, and wonder whether he was Miss Claire’s sweetheart, and wish he were hers, for he did look so lovely in his uniform and spurs. As soon as Claire was alone she threw herself upon he

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Volume One—Chapter Five.

Volume One—Chapter Five.

“It must have been fancy,” said Claire, after listening intently; and she stood there with the light throwing up the eager look upon her face, with her lips half parted, and a tremulous motion about her well-cut nostrils as her bosom rose and fell. Then, drawing a breath full of relief, she turned to go, the horror that had assailed her dying off; for ever since Lady Teigne had been beneath their roof, Claire had been haunted by the idea that some night she would be called up at a time when the

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Volume One—Chapter Six.

Volume One—Chapter Six.

“Beg pardon, sir,” said the man, “here is the Major.” At that moment the gentleman in question entered the room, and the brilliant illumination of the table gave a far better opportunity for judging his appearance than the blind-drawn gloom of Lady Teigne’s drawing-room. He was a strikingly handsome dark man, with a fierce black moustache that seemed to divide his face in half, and then stood out beyond each cheek in a black tuft, hair highly pomatumed and curled, and bright black eyes that seem

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Volume One—Chapter Seven.

Volume One—Chapter Seven.

“Fit? Some scoundrel of a London tramp scaled the balcony, they say. Fine plunder, the rascal! All those diamonds.” “Which she might have left her sister, and then perhaps they would have come to you, Matt.” “Don’t talk stuff.” “Stuff? Why, you are besieging the belle. But, I say, I have my own theory about that murder.” “Eh, have you?” cried the great dragoon, staring open-mouthed. “Egad! yes, Matt. It was not a contemptible robbery.” “Wasn’t it? You don’t say so.” “But I do,” cried Sir Harry s

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Volume One—Chapter Eight.

Volume One—Chapter Eight.

His hands dropped, his jaw fell, his eyes seemed to be starting, as he read the look of horror, loathing, and shame in his daughter’s face, and for the space of a full minute neither spoke. Then, as if moved to make another effort, he started spasmodically forward. “Claire, my child—if you only knew!” But she shrank from him with the look of horror intensified. “Don’t—don’t touch me,” she whispered, in a harsh, dry voice. “Don’t: pray don’t.” “But, Claire—” “I know,” she whispered, trembling vio

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Volume One—Chapter Nine.

Volume One—Chapter Nine.

“Ladies, ladies, you’ll pardon me. I say my powers here are—er—very limited.” “Yes, I know all about that, but you must get invitations for mamma and me for the next Assembly.” “I’ll try, Miss Dean, but—you’ll pardon me—” “There, don’t shilly-shally with him, Betsy; it’s all business. Look here, Denville, the day the invitations come there’ll be five guineas wrapped up in silver paper under the chayny shepherdess on my droring-room mantelpiece, if you’ll just call and look under.” “Really, Mrs D

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Volume One—Chapter Ten.

Volume One—Chapter Ten.

“Where is he? Where is my Titi? Where is his preserver?” and somebody said, “Here!” There was a hurried opening of the circle, and Stuart Denville, Esquire, Master of the Ceremonies, struck a fresh attitude full of astonishment, but, like the rest of the well-dressed throng, he shrank away, as a tall, fair youth, dripping with water, which made his hair and clothes cling closely, came from an opening that led to the piles below, squeezing the pug to free him from moisture, and gazing from face t

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Volume One—Chapter Eleven.

Volume One—Chapter Eleven.

“I say, Dick, don’t be a fool,” cried the lad. “What’s the good of raking up that horrid affair, now it’s all dead and buried?” “Nay,” said Dick, shaking his head. “That ar’n’t all dead and buried, like the old woman, my lad. There’s more trouble to come out o’ that business yet.” “Oh, stuff and nonsense!” “Nay, it isn’t, my lad. Anyhow, I don’t like coming to your place now, and there’s other reasons as well, ar’n’t there, missus?” “Now, I do call that shabby, Dick. Just because there’s a bill

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Volume One—Chapter Twelve.

Volume One—Chapter Twelve.

“Ha—ha—ha! come, come!” cried Sir Harry, touching his friend in the side with the gold knob of his cane, “how innocent we are;” and, taking Sir Matthew’s arm, they strolled on towards the pier. “I didn’t ask you who the note was for that we left at Mother Clode’s,” said Sir Matthew sulkily. “No; neither did I ask you where yours came from—you Goliath of foxes,” laughed Sir Harry. “But I say. ’Fore George, it was on mourning paper, and was scented with musk. Ha—ha—ha!” Sir Matthew scowled and gru

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Volume One—Chapter Thirteen.

Volume One—Chapter Thirteen.

She did not move as the old man took a couple of steps forward and kissed her brow, laying his hands afterwards upon her head and muttering a blessing. Then, in spite of her efforts, a chill seemed to run through her, and she trembled, while he, noting it, turned away with a look of agony in his countenance that he sought to conceal, and sank down in the nearest chair. He seemed to be a totally different man, and those who had seen him upon the cliff and pier would not have recognised in him the

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Volume One—Chapter Fourteen.

Volume One—Chapter Fourteen.

“Yes. Fisherman Dick’s waiting for me on the pier.” “Is this true?” asked Linnell sternly. “True! What do you mean?” said the lad haughtily. “Did you ever know a Denville tell a lie?” “No, of course not. But it looks bad, young fellow, to see you stealing out of the house like this, and after that ghastly affair.” “Hush, don’t talk about it,” said the lad with a shudder. “But, I say, how came you here?” “I—I—” stammered Linnell. “Oh, I was walking along the cliff and I saw the window open. I tho

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Volume One—Chapter Fifteen.

Volume One—Chapter Fifteen.

“She couldn’t have wanted it, auntie,” drawled the girl. “I don’t believe she ever used a needle in her life.” “Perhaps not, my dear, but she might want it for a present.” “Oh, so she might; I never thought of that. Customers!” added the girl sharply, and rose to go into the shop. “I’ll attend to them, my dear,” said Miss Clode quickly, and she entered the shop to smilingly confront Sir Harry Payne and Sir Matthew Bray. “Well, Miss Clode, what’s the newest and best book for a man to read?” “Real

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Volume One—Chapter Sixteen.

Volume One—Chapter Sixteen.

Whish-swish , and the ponies sent the chalky dust flying as they tore along. “Now, lookye here, Betsy, once for all,” said Mrs Dean angrily; “if you are going to drive like that, I stay at home. I like my bones, though they do ache sometimes, and I’m not going to have them broke to please you.” Cora frowned, and softly took up the second rein with the effect of checking the ponies’ rattling gallop just as heads were being turned and gentlemen on horseback were starting off in pursuit. “I ain’t e

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Volume One—Chapter Seventeen.

Volume One—Chapter Seventeen.

Then he asked himself why he was frittering away his life in Saltinville with his father instead of taking to some manly career, and making for himself a name. “Because I’m chained,” he said, half aloud, as he returned a couple of salutes from Sir Harry Payne and Sir Matthew Bray—rather coldly given, condescending salutations that brought a curl of contempt to his lip. These gentlemen were near the end of the pier, and he passed them, and went on to look out to sea on the other side, where a swa

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Volume One—Chapter Eighteen.

Volume One—Chapter Eighteen.

“Hush, child, and listen. The position of both of you is assured; a peaceful and more prosperous fortune for me! The few trifles I ask for: my snuff, a glass of port—one only—my cutlet, a suit of clothes when I desire a change, without an insulting reference to an old bill, the deference of tradespeople, freedom from debt. Claire, at last, at last!” “Oh, papa!” cried the girl, with the tears welling over and dropping slowly from her beautiful eyes, while her sweet mouth seemed all a-tremble, and

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Volume One—Chapter Nineteen.

Volume One—Chapter Nineteen.

“Yes; I think they have not improved. Somehow one likes softness and sweetness in a woman, and your classic young ladies are often very sharp and hard. “If you combat my opinion upon the main idea of women’s purpose here, add this to your study—the aspect of a woman when she is most beautiful. “And when is that?—in her ball dress?—in her wedding costume?—when she first says ‘yes?’ “Oh, no; none of these, but when she is alone with the child she loves, and that sweet—well, angelic look of satisfi

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Volume One—Chapter Twenty.

Volume One—Chapter Twenty.

The Deans lodged at one of the best houses in the Parade—a large, double-fronted place facing the sea, with spacious balcony and open hall door, and porch ornamented with flowers. The little groom sprang down and ran to the ponies’ heads as his mistress alighted, and after sweeping her rich dress aside, held out her hand for her mother, who got out of the carriage slowly, and in what was meant for a very stately style, her quick beady eyes having shown her that the windows on either side of the

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Volume One—Chapter Twenty One.

Volume One—Chapter Twenty One.

He went off, looking very serious, with his net over one shoulder, the creel over the other, and after going to and fro patiently waist and often breast deep, he was successful in finding Cora Dean’s reticule, with its purse and cut-glass bottle; and that night he went home amply rewarded, Cora having been very generous, and Mrs Dean saying several times over that she wouldn’t have believed that a great rough man like that would have been so honest. “I declare, Betsy, he’s just like a man in a p

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Volume One—Chapter Twenty Two.

Volume One—Chapter Twenty Two.

“Please ma’am, master said—” “Show him in here, Isaac,” said Claire, drawing herself up with her eyes flashing, and the colour returning to her cheeks. The footman backed out quickly, and directly after there was the clink of spurs, and a heavy tread. Then the door opened and closed, and Major Hockley’s servant, James Bell, otherwise Fred Denville, strode into the room; and Isaac’s retreating steps were heard. “Fred!” cried Claire, throwing her arms round his neck, and kissing the handsome bronz

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Volume One—Chapter Twenty Three.

Volume One—Chapter Twenty Three.

He stopped as he turned his eyes upon where Claire crouched, as if he had suddenly become aware of her presence, and his face softened into a piteous yearning look as he stretched out his hands towards her, and then slowly rose to his feet. “I struck her,” he muttered, “I struck her. My child—my darling! I—I—Claire—Claire—” His voice was very low as he slowly sank upon his knees, and softly laid one hand upon her dress, raising it to his lips and kissing it with a curiously strange abasement in

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Volume One—Chapter Twenty Four.

Volume One—Chapter Twenty Four.

“Thank you, sir; but as I was a saying, you’ve had clothes of me, sir, for years, and you haven’t paid me, sir, and I haven’t grumbled, seeing as you’ve introduced me clients, but I can’t start an account for Mr Denville, junior, sir, and I won’t.” The MC took snuff, and rested first on one leg and then on the other; lastly, he held his head on one side and admired two or three velvet waistcoat pieces, so as to give Mr Ping time to repent. But Mr Ping did not want time to repent, and he would no

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Volume One—Chapter Twenty Five.

Volume One—Chapter Twenty Five.

“Likely! You were always scolding and snubbing me, as it was. I don’t know what you would have said if you had known. Besides, I was afraid of you in those days.” “May, you will drive me mad,” said Claire, pacing the room. “Nonsense; and don’t go on running up and down the room like that. Be sensible, and help me.” “Why have you not told me before?” “I’ve been going to tell you heaps of times, but you’ve always had something or other to worry about, and I’ve been put off.” “Till you knew that de

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Volume One—Chapter Twenty Six.

Volume One—Chapter Twenty Six.

“Well, I don’t want you to love him, old lady.” “I should think not, indeed, with his nasty dark eyes and his long black mustarchers. Ugh! the monster. I ’ate him.” “Handsomest man in Saltinville, my dear.” “Handsome is as handsome does, Jo-si-ah. He’s a black-hearted one, if ever there was one, I know.” “Now, you don’t know anything of the kind, old girl.” “Oh, yes, I do, Jo-si-ah. I always feel it whenever he comes anigh one, and if I had a child of my own, and that man had come and wanted to

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Volume One—Chapter Twenty Seven.

Volume One—Chapter Twenty Seven.

For the fluttering white dress took up all his attention, and now that they were well beyond the promenaders, he was about to hasten his steps—too impatient to wait until she turned—when he uttered an impatient oath, for Claire suddenly stopped by a cottage where a woman was sitting knitting a coarse blue garment and nursing a little child. It was all so sudden that it took the officer by surprise. The woman jumped up hastily on being spoken to, and curtseyed, and they went in at once, leaving t

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Volume Two—Chapter One.

Volume Two—Chapter One.

Claire’s eyes flashed at his assumption, but she made no reply, and walked on. “How can you be so absurd,” he whispered, as he kept pace with her step for step, “when you know how I love you?” “Major Rockley!” she cried, stopping short and facing him, “by what right do you insult me like this?” “How beautiful she is!” he said in a low tone. Claire bit her lips, and, divining that he was disposed to treat her as one in an entirely different rank of life, she hurried on along the path, with the ta

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Volume Two—Chapter Two.

Volume Two—Chapter Two.

“Oh, hush, hush!” she moaned piteously, weak now with her emotion and the scene she had gone through. “I must speak now,” he went on. “I have no opportunities of seeing you and telling you all I feel. Claire, I would have come and asked permission to address you, but I have been obliged to feel that my presence was not welcome to Mr Denville, and you—you have been so cold and distant to me of late.” She did not speak, but kept one hand to her bent-down face, while he held the other tightly clasp

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Volume Two—Chapter Three.

Volume Two—Chapter Three.

“Queer? You looked queer multiplied ten thousand times. Why, Rockley, one of you with a face like that would scare a regiment of French cuirassiers. I say, what was the row about—a woman?” “Curse her!” cried Rockley, flashing out into uncontrolled rage again, as he writhed with mental and bodily pain. “I’ll bring her to her senses for this. Treat me as if I were some gawky boy, to be held off and coaxed on, and then bidden to keep my distance!” “What girl was it?” “Curse you! don’t ask questions

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Volume Two—Chapter Four.

Volume Two—Chapter Four.

The elder Linnell looked from one to the other with a smile. “Oh, I’m sure he will,” he said. “Eh, Dick?” “Of course, father, of course.” “And out all the morning, too! Well, well, fresh air for health.” “Why don’t you get more then, Linnell?” “I—I?” said the grave, elderly man slowly. “I don’t know. I don’t want fresh air. I’m very well as I am. I shall do for my time here.” “Why, father,” said Richard merrily, as he clapped him on the shoulder, “what a tone to take.” He exchanged a quick, agon

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Volume Two—Chapter Five.

Volume Two—Chapter Five.

Dick Miggles bent down over his boat, and seemed to be paying not the least heed, for just then he saw four people coming down the cliff path on to the beach, and as they passed he saw that they were Rockley, Sir Harry Payne, a gentleman he did not know, and the Major’s dragoon servant, James Bell, carrying something under his military cloak. “It’s a fight,” said Dick Miggles, as they passed him, picking their way down over the shingle to the firmer ground, close to the water’s edge, where there

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Volume Two—Chapter Six.

Volume Two—Chapter Six.

About half-way up he turned, saw that he was out of sight, and then, following Fisherman Dick’s steps as if he were familiar with the way, climbed right into the rough cavern, and came suddenly upon the man, who started round in surprise. “Hullo!” he growled. “What are you doing here?” “Same to you,” said the young dragoon, in a low voice. “What are you going to do?” “See the fight, if you must know,” said Fisherman Dick. “Like my place, p’raps.” “Yes,” said the young soldier quickly, “I should;

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Volume Two—Chapter Seven.

Volume Two—Chapter Seven.

She returned very quickly, with a face quite scarlet with heat and excitement, full of the news she had picked up from Mrs Miggles, who had determined not to say a word of what she knew, and ended by telling all. Miss Clode was in a state of excitement, for she had heard from a customer that young Mr Linnell, of the Parade, had fallen from the cliff that morning and cut his head, and the news turned the little woman pale, and she staggered and felt sick. When Annie came back she had recovered, b

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Volume Two—Chapter Eight.

Volume Two—Chapter Eight.

“Yes, I won’t say another word, my dear. Not that I believe in sperrits or anything of that kind. But you were saying about me being kind. Why, you won’t let me be, my dear. I’m sure the dresses I’d buy you, and the things I’d give you, if you’d let me, would make some of them stare.” “But I could not let you, Mrs Barclay,” said Claire, smiling. “No; you’re so proud, my dear, that’s it. You see, Josiah lets me have so much for housekeeping, that I’ve always plenty to spare; and as to jewellery,

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Volume Two—Chapter Nine.

Volume Two—Chapter Nine.

“Drelincourt has been asking me to interest myself with the Prince to get your boy a commission.” “Indeed, my lord?” “Yes, indeed. ’Nother pinch of snuff.” The box— sniff—snuff—snap . “Like to know what I said to her?” “My lord, I am a father.” “Yes, Denville, I know it. Well.” The old man changed the conversation to make another remark or two about some visitors, and then said, suddenly returning to the subject: “Drelincourt asked me to get the lad a commission.” “Yes, my lord.” “You don’t thin

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Volume Two—Chapter Ten.

Volume Two—Chapter Ten.

“Nor think it?” Stuart Denville, MC of Saltinville, stood there out on the hazy Downs, trembling, obsequious, tossed by his emotions. It was so dazzling, this suggestion of an offer for his child’s hand. May had married a rich man; but for Claire, his beautiful child, to become the wife of a wealthy nobleman—to become Countess of Carboro’! It was such an exaltation—greater than his highest dreams. But before him stood that withered old man, scanning him with his sharp eyes, and ready to probe hi

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Volume Two—Chapter Eleven.

Volume Two—Chapter Eleven.

“Did—did Fred speak, Morton?” “No; he cut me dead, and of course he is James Bell in the regimental books; but, I say, isn’t it awkward? I can’t know him, you see, as my brother: what shall I do?” “Fred has shown you,” said Claire huskily, as her troubles seemed to be on the increase. “I will try and persuade him to leave the regiment. We must buy him out.” “Yes, to be sure,” cried the boy. “Oh, I say, what a clever old girl you are, Sis! Why, you’re better than a mother.” Claire smiled sadly as

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Volume Two—Chapter Twelve.

Volume Two—Chapter Twelve.

“The cards on the tables?” “And the refreshments?” “You will ask Lady Drelincourt’s servant to stop and help wait.” “And the Earl of Carboro’s.” “Perhaps it would be as well to keep Mr Burnett’s man also.” “I need say no more, Isaac, only that you will see that the tea and coffee are hot, and that the refreshments in the dining-room are ready in relays.” “Yes, sir; everything shall be done, sir; and would you mind casting your eye over that, sir?” “Certainly, I will do so, Isaac. Hem! An account

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Volume Two—Chapter Thirteen.

Volume Two—Chapter Thirteen.

“No, no; some one in the room will see.” “I’ll take care of that, my lady. Look at them. I daren’t tell you whom they once belonged to, but they came to me through accidents at the gaming-table. They are perfect in match and size. Lady Drelincourt, you would not be doing yourself justice if you did not buy them. I wish I dare clasp them on.” “No, no; not now. How much did you say?” “I am giving them away at four hundred guineas, Lady Drelincourt.” “Oh, but that’s a terrible price, Barclay!” “The

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Volume Two—Chapter Fourteen.

Volume Two—Chapter Fourteen.

“Ladies—ladies—I beg—I must request—” “Order my carriage directly, Sir Matthew. It serves me right for coming to such a place,” cried Lady Drelincourt. “Yes; you had no business here,” cried Mrs Barclay. “And mixing with such low people,” cried Lady Drelincourt. “Low people? Better be low than not honest.” “Oh! oh!—Denville, are you going to allow this insult to my face—from such a woman as that?” cried Lady Drelincourt. “Hush, ladies! Pray—pray!” cried Denville. “Hold your tongue and come away,

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Volume Two—Chapter Fifteen.

Volume Two—Chapter Fifteen.

“No-o! Oh, my head!—my head!” “My darling!” cried Burnett, coming back and bringing with him a strong smell of cigars and bad wine. “Don’t, Frank. Don’t you see how ill I am?” “Yes, yes, my own, but the carriage is waiting. Let me help you down, and let’s go home.” “Oh! My gracious! Oh!” shrieked Mrs Barclay. “Oh!—oh!—oh!—oh!” sobbed May Burnett, again in a worse fit than before. “Now you’ve done it again,” cried Barclay angrily. “There never was such a woman. Here, come along home.” “The case—t

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Volume Two—Chapter Sixteen.

Volume Two—Chapter Sixteen.

“You must. Somewhere here.” “No, no! You must go. Oh, what shall I do? I am lost—undone.” “Hush, little woman! Be calm,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “I don’t know much about this house. Here, I will go downstairs.” “But you cannot; the footman will see you.” “Then, curse it all, hide me upstairs,” cried Sir Harry impatiently. “My father—my sister—what shall I do!—Oh!” That was all the visitor heard, and the faint cry that ended the sentence was drowned in a second tremendous peal at knocker and

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Volume Two—Chapter Seventeen.

Volume Two—Chapter Seventeen.

“Then she has a good reason for it. There!” “It’s a terrible blow for Mr Denville, of course, ma’am; and they say the young gentleman who has only just joined the dragoons is horribly put out, and challenged Sir Harry Payne, only the Colonel would not let them fight.” “Dear—dear—dear! Poor Denville! he has nothing but misfortunes. I am sorry for him; I am indeed. Well, I must go; but mind this, Miss Clode: Claire Denville is a particular friend of mine, and no one shall say ill of her in my pres

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Volume Two—Chapter Eighteen.

Volume Two—Chapter Eighteen.

An angry flash came into his eyes; the mincing dandyism gave place to a sharp angular rigidity, and stepping quickly across the intervening space that separated him from his child, he was about to take the note from her hands. Claire uttered a faint cry of alarm, started from the sofa, and hastily thrust the folded paper into her pocket. “That letter,” he said, stamping his foot, “give me that letter.” “No, no, I cannot, father,” she cried, with a look of terror at his worn and excited face. “I

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Volume Two—Chapter Nineteen.

Volume Two—Chapter Nineteen.

“Where, my child?” he said, as he kissed her hand tenderly. “What work would you do—you, so beautiful, so unfit for the rough toil of life?” “As a teacher—a governess,” she cried; but he shook his head, and began to tremble and draw her closer to him. “No, no,” he said excitedly; “that would mean separation; and Claire,” he whispered, “I am so weak—so broken—that I must have your young spirit to sustain me. I cannot live without you. Left alone—no, no, no, I dare not be left alone.” “Hush, dear!

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Volume Two—Chapter Twenty.

Volume Two—Chapter Twenty.

“By the way, what time did Mr Denville come back to his quarters?” “Two o’clock, sir.” “With whom had he been?” “Sir Matthew Bray, sir. Lady Drelincourt’s, I think.” “Humph! Now, look here; can I trust you, Bell?” “Yes, sir.” “Then I’m going to give you a delicate bit of business to do for me.” “If you do it well, I shall give you a clean slate to begin again, and wipe off that last report.” “Thankye, sir.” “I cannot—at least I do not wish to—be seen in the business preparations, so I trust to y

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Volume Two—Chapter Twenty One.

Volume Two—Chapter Twenty One.

“To-night’s battle?” “Yes,” he said, in a bantering, reckless way that was new to him, “the battle with the beaux whom you are going to slay.” He felt as if he could have bitten his tongue off the next moment, as he saw the look of pain she gave him. “What have I done?” she said in a soft, low, half-passionate tone. “Done! What do you mean?” “Why do you take pleasure in laughing at me and mocking me?” “Oh, nonsense!” he cried. “I was only speaking lightly.” “Why should you speak lightly to me?”

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Volume Two—Chapter Twenty Two.

Volume Two—Chapter Twenty Two.

“Because Miss Cora Dean, your beautiful charioteer, will be there?” “No!” fiercely. “Why, then, most impressionable youth?” “Because—must I tell you?” “Yes, if you wish me to act,” said the Colonel sternly. “Because Claire Denville will be there.” “Good heavens! that old fop is never going to take that girl?” “He is.” “Pooh! What am I saying?” cried the Colonel, half laughingly. “Well, what of it? Why do you want to go?” “Look.” Linnell held out the note he had found in his room, and Mellersh re

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Volume Two—Chapter Twenty Three.

Volume Two—Chapter Twenty Three.

Tea, coffee, ices, and sandwiches at various buffets were spread as a matter of course, but the servants who waited there had a light time compared with that of the butler and his aid. The Master of the Ceremonies had arrived early with his daughter, whom Mrs Pontardent kissed affectionately, and called “My dear child,” and then her father was obliged to leave her, as he had so many duties to perform, receiving guests and introducing them to the hostess as if it were a royal ball; getting couple

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Volume Two—Chapter Twenty Four.

Volume Two—Chapter Twenty Four.

“It is like that, I tell you; but she wants it to appear that she had no hand in it, to keep up the fiction. You see?” “Yes,” said the woman, rather hoarsely; “but I don’t like it, Rockley.” “Friends or enemies?—one word?” he said sternly. “Friends,” she said quickly. “What am I to do?” “Go back at once, and get hold of young Denville. He’s half-tipsy somewhere.” “Yes.” “Tell him he has shamefully neglected his sister, and that he is to take her out in the garden for a walk straight down the bro

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Volume Two—Chapter Twenty Five.

Volume Two—Chapter Twenty Five.

“My dear Dick, why should I waste my breath on a man in your condition?” “My condition, you wretched old cynic? You never knew what it was to love.” “Wrong. I have loved, and I am in love now.” “You? You?” “Yes, my boy, and with a woman who cares for somebody else; but I don’t go stalking about like a tragedy hero, and rolling my eyes and cursing the whole world. If I cannot have the moon, I shall not cry for it.” “Hist! There goes Rockley.” “Well, let him go.” Richard Linnell made no reply, but

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Volume Two—Chapter Twenty Six.

Volume Two—Chapter Twenty Six.

Here was a check, for the gate was closed, and no light visible, but Bell rode close up and kicked hard at the panel, till the door in the gatekeeper’s hut was opened. “Now, then, quick!” cried Bell. “How long is it since a chaise and four passed?” “Chaise and four?” said the man surlily. “Yes, chaise and four. Has a chaise and four passed?” “What, to-night?” “Yes, to-night. Answer; quick, or—” He caught the man by the collar, and the evasion he was about to utter did not pass his lips. “Yes,” h

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Volume Two—Chapter Twenty Seven.

Volume Two—Chapter Twenty Seven.

With the customary feeling of helplessness that comes over a horse as soon as its head is pressed down, the poor animal ceased its frantic efforts, uttered a piteous sigh that was like that of a human being, and lay perfectly still. “Old Spavin’s a dead ’un, mate,” said the man. “Dead?” said the second postboy. “Dead as a nit, mate. There’ll be something to pay for to-night’s job.” “Anyone killed?” said the second man in a whisper. “I d’know, and I don’t care,” grumbled the man; “my leg’s bruzz

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Volume Two—Chapter Twenty Eight.

Volume Two—Chapter Twenty Eight.

“What shall I do?” she moaned; and in frantic haste she ran down the first path she came to, feeling more and more sure that she was wrong; but directly after she found that this crossed a broad grass path at right angles; and as she reached it she uttered a gasp, for there was a couple coming down towards her, and she felt rather than saw that it was those she sought. They were close upon her, coming between the bushes, and Morton was talking loudly, with the thick utterance of one nearly inebr

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Volume Two—Chapter Twenty Nine.

Volume Two—Chapter Twenty Nine.

“I felt it myself, demme, that I did, horribly, madam; but I said I would be true to my friend Bray, here, and I fled from temptation like a man.” “I’m afraid I can’t believe you—either of you,” said her ladyship, simpering. “But, now, do tell me—no, no, don’t go, Denville; I want to talk to you. Sir Harry, now was Major Rockley, that dreadful Mephistopheles, half killed?” Sir Harry Payne screwed up his face, shook his head, took snuff loudly, and, raising his hat, walked away. “How tantalising!

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Volume Two—Chapter Thirty.

Volume Two—Chapter Thirty.

“I will come down.” Isaac left the room, and Claire drew a long breath. Who could it be? Some one who had forgotten that May was married, and then recalled it! What did it mean? She stood with her hands tightly clasped, gazing straight before her, and then walked quickly to the door, and down into the dining-room, so quietly that the short, slight man gazing out of the window did not hear her entrance. Claire was puzzled while for the moment she gazed at the attitude of her visitor, whose long b

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Volume Two—Chapter Thirty One.

Volume Two—Chapter Thirty One.

She pressed her hands over her eyes, but she could not shut out Richard Linnell’s face, and his stern, grave looks, that seemed to read her through and through, keeping her back from acting some fresh deceit, when something was spurring her on to try and save poor weak May. The horror of Lady Teigne’s death: the suspicion of her having made an assignation with Sir Harry Payne; the supposed elopement with Major Rockley—all these clinging to her and lowering her in the sight of the world. There we

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Volume Three—Chapter One.

Volume Three—Chapter One.

“Why?” repeated Linnell, smiling in her face—but it was not the smile she wished to see—“for fear of another accident, of course.” “What would you care?” she said in a low whisper. “I wish there would be another accident. Why didn’t you let me drown? I wish I were dead.” She gave her ponies a sharp lash, the groom leaped aside, caught the back of the carriage, and swung himself up into his seat, and away they dashed at a gallop, while Linnell stood gazing after them, till Mellersh laid a hand up

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Volume Three—Chapter Two.

Volume Three—Chapter Two.

“The truth—what truth, woman?” cried Richard indignantly. “The truth about—” “Hush! you shall not speak her name,” cried Richard furiously. “It is enough that you know,” said little Miss Clode quickly. “Boy, boy, place your affection elsewhere, and not upon a woman who is about to elope to-night.” “It is not true,” he cried furiously, “and I am a weak fool to stay and listen to such calumnies.” “It is true,” said Miss Clode; “and it was to save you from the misery of discovering all this that I

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Volume Three—Chapter Three.

Volume Three—Chapter Three.

“Went on dropping hints again, sir, as soon as he had had a glass or two. ’Fraid he’s a fool, sir.” “Nothing to be afraid of in a fool, Joseph, so long as you keep him at a distance. So he chatters, eh?” “Yes, sir. Professes to have a mystery. He could speak if he liked, and there’s a deal he could say if he pleased, and lays his finger on the side of his nose, and all that sort of thing, sir. That’s been going on for months, and it’s what he calls confiding in me; but it never goes any further.

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Volume Three—Chapter Four.

Volume Three—Chapter Four.

“Mrs Barclay!” exclaimed Claire. “No, no, no, my dear. What a stupid old woman I am! I didn’t mean that, but if you were in trouble, I hoped that, seeing how much you are alone, you had come to me for help and advice.” Claire’s face worked and her lips quivered. She vainly tried to speak, and finally, utterly broken-down with the agony of her encounters on the previous day with Louis and her sister, with the following sleepless night and the despair of the present day, during which she had been

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Volume Three—Chapter Five.

Volume Three—Chapter Five.

“Nonsense, woman.” “Nonsense, Jo-si-ah! Do you mean to tell me—now, how can you? Why, we’ve been married over thirty years, and that wicked little hussy isn’t above twenty. How can you talk such stuff?” “You set me going,” he said grimly. “You talked as if May Burnett must be my own flesh and blood.” “I didn’t, Jo-si-ah. What do you mean?” “Why you want me to mix myself up in this miserable scandal over a wretched, frivolous, heartless wench, spend my hard-earned money, and let you go off on a s

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Volume Three—Chapter Six.

Volume Three—Chapter Six.

“He may be inside,” she said softly, and going on tip-toe to the door her hand was raised to the fastening, when one of the wheelers snorted and half roused the mounted postboy. “Hullo, then, old gal,” he muttered loudly. “Yo—yo—yo—yo—yo! Gate—gate.” “What shall I do?” exclaimed the veiled figure, and she seized one of the spokes of the wheel and clung to it as the other postboy, slightly roused by his companion, took up his cry and shouted drowsily: “Yo—yo—yo—yo—yo! Gate—gate!” The horses sighe

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Volume Three—Chapter Seven.

Volume Three—Chapter Seven.

“Yes; didn’t you see? Is she fainting?” “Yes,” said Mellersh. “Here, Linnell, help Miss Denville into the chaise, and she can support her sister.” “No; I forbid it,” cried Lord Carboro’ sharply. “I—” “Hush, my lord!” whispered Mellersh. “Do you not see? The wretched woman is stabbed.” “Stabbed!” “Claire! Claire! Help! Claire!” wailed May faintly. At her sister’s wild cry a spasm seemed to shoot through Claire’s frame, and she wrested herself from Linnell, and threw herself beside the wretched li

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Volume Three—Chapter Eight.

Volume Three—Chapter Eight.

Some one had seen the postboys, and knew that Lord Carboro’ was up at the cross-roads, where he had gone to fight a duel with Colonel Mellersh over a card-table quarrel, and they happened to be just in time to help May Burnett when her sister stabbed Sir Harry Payne. Some one else quarrelled indignantly with this version, for she knew from Lady Drelincourt’s maid that it was her ladyship herself, who in a fit of indignant jealousy had stabbed Claire Denville and Sir Matthew Bray, whom everyone k

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Volume Three—Chapter Nine.

Volume Three—Chapter Nine.

“Poor old dad! How fond he is of me, and how ready to forgive me,” she went on quietly. “Has Frank Burnett been?” Claire shook her head. “Not once?” “No.” “Ah, well, I suppose he would not come. He felt that I was not his wife, and he was glad to cut himself clear from such an unhappy family. Has Sir Harry sent?” “May! dear May!” “I only wanted to know, Claire,” said May quietly. “Don’t be angry with me, dear. It’s all over now. Is he better?” “I believe so. He has gone away.” “Thank God!” said

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Volume Three—Chapter Ten.

Volume Three—Chapter Ten.

Angry voices rose, and then there were the sounds of blows struck apparently with a cane. Then there was a scuffling noise, and the front door was driven back. “Leave the house, scoundrel! leave my house, insolent dog!” came up sharp and clear in her father’s voice, quivering with anger, and the scuffle was renewed. “You pay me my wages; you pay me what you owe me, or I don’t stir a step.” The voice that uttered these last words was thick and husky, and full of menace. It was a familiar voice, t

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Volume Three—Chapter Eleven.

Volume Three—Chapter Eleven.

The old beau looked up quickly and encountered the dark eyes of Major Rockley, who had also been intently watching Dick Miggles, using an opera-glass, so as to see him empty the shrimps into his creel. “Yes: thinking,” said Lord Carboro’ in a short, sharp way. “Like to know what I was thinking?” The Major shrugged his shoulders. “Of the sea, perhaps, or the vessels passing, or Lady Drelincourt’s illness.” “No, sir,” said Lord Carboro’ shortly. “I was thinking of Lady Teigne’s jewels.” Rockley ra

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Volume Three—Chapter Twelve.

Volume Three—Chapter Twelve.

May! The thought of his child—his favoured one, with her pretty innocent rosebud of a face and its appealing, trusting eyes. How he had worshipped that girl! How she had been his idol. How he had believed in her and sacrificed everything for her sake; and now—he lay in prison, one whom the world called murderer; and she, his idol, to whom he had sacrificed so long, for aught he knew, passing away, and everyone turned from him and his family as if they were lepers. Well, he was a social leper. He

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Volume Three—Chapter Thirteen.

Volume Three—Chapter Thirteen.

“I had already discussed the matter with my daughter, gentlemen. Counsel! It is useless. I need none.” “Need none, Mr Denville?” cried Linnell quickly. “Pray think of what you are saying. You must have legal help.” Claire darted a grateful look at Linnell, and then drew back with pain depicted in her countenance, mingled with pride and mortification as she saw the coldness in his manner towards her. “I must repeat what I said, Mr Linnell,” said Denville in a low, pained voice. “I want no counsel

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Volume Three—Chapter Fourteen.

Volume Three—Chapter Fourteen.

“Curse him!” “Fred!—dear Fred!” “Well, no, I won’t curse him. It’s the boy’s training, not his nature. He ought not to cut the poor old man, though, in his disgrace. Claire, damn it all; I don’t believe father killed that old thing.” He looked at his sister with a quick intelligent gaze, full of conviction; but as he met her full in the eyes, and saw the change that came over her countenance, the conviction seemed blunted, and he shuddered. “She believes it!” he muttered. Then aloud: “Why, Clair

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Volume Three—Chapter Fifteen.

Volume Three—Chapter Fifteen.

“Curse me, I must have some brandy, or I shall never be able to face him,” he gasped, as he strode on, no longer the stern, upright, well-built cavalry soldier, but a bent, trembling man, at whom more than one passer-by looked askance. He even reeled, and albeit perfectly sober, he evoked comments upon “these drunken soldiers” in the streets. “It is too horrible,” he said again. “I never saw it like this before;” and, hurrying on with unsteady step, he was making straight for a public-house he k

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Volume Three—Chapter Sixteen.

Volume Three—Chapter Sixteen.

“Yes; tried hard. I’ve been. I’ve done my duty—for once,” he said with a strange laugh. He did not speak again for a few minutes, and Claire sat holding his hand, looking at him doubtingly, his manner was so strange. “You think I’ve been drinking,” he cried fiercely. “Give a dog a bad name, and then hang him. I haven’t touched a drop to-day.” He changed his manner to her directly, and his voice was low and tender as he took her to his breast and kissed her. “Poor little Clairy,” he said; “you’ve

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Volume Three—Chapter Seventeen.

Volume Three—Chapter Seventeen.

“You, Colonel Mellersh, are a bit of a cynic; you don’t believe in women, but you are mistaken here.” “What do you wish me to do?” said Linnell hoarsely. “To do? She is almost friendless, broken-hearted, and has not a strong true hand to take hers, a loyal heart who will stand by her against the world. Richard Linnell, my poor sister is suffering and in pain, and a great trouble is coming upon her that will not balance the joyful news she will soon hear.” “Then, why not make a dash for it, man,

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Volume Three—Chapter Eighteen.

Volume Three—Chapter Eighteen.

“Why have I come? Hark at her!” said Morton piteously. “Oh, dear, I wish I were a boy again, instead of an officer and a gentleman, and could go down and catch dabs with Dick Miggles off the pier.” “Officer—gentleman? Morton, is it the act of a gentleman to side with the wretched people who made sport of your sister’s fame? To stand aloof when she is almost alone and unfriended, and this dreadful calamity has befallen us? Oh, Morton, are you my brother to act like this? Is it your manliness of w

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Volume Three—Chapter Nineteen.

Volume Three—Chapter Nineteen.

“Good lad!” he exclaimed. “That’s brave. Go and see him; and if you like you may tell him that Mr Linnell and I have got the best lawyer in London to defend him.” “You have, Mr Barclay?” “Yes; we have. There, don’t stare at me like that. Your father once did me a good turn; and do you suppose a money-lender has no bowels? You tell him—no, don’t tell him. He is in a queer, obstinate way just now, and you’ve got your work cut out to tell him about your brother’s trouble. That’s enough for one day,

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Volume Three—Chapter Twenty.

Volume Three—Chapter Twenty.

“No, no. Don’t, pray don’t, speak like that, father. Think of what I must feel. I’d lay down my life to save you both, but it seems so horrible that my brother should die for that of which he is innocent.” The old man wrested himself from her grasp, and paced the cell like some caged wild creature, seeking to be free. “I cannot bear it,” he exclaimed. “Heaven help me for a wretched weak man. Why has this complication come to tempt me? Claire, I would have died—without a murmur, without a word, b

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Volume Three—Chapter Twenty One.

Volume Three—Chapter Twenty One.

“He will cut us dead,” thought Morton. “We are disgraced for ever.” To his surprise, as they drew near, Lord Carboro’ took off his hat, and held it in his hand, bowing low to Claire as she passed him. Fifty yards further they encountered Richard Linnell and Mellersh, who, without having seen Lord Carboro’s act, imitated it exactly, and drew aside to let them pass. Morton felt his heart throb with pleasure. He had expected those who knew them to treat them slightingly, and his sister was being tr

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Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Two.

Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Two.

But Claire saw nothing, heard nothing—neither the figure that came quickly after her as she left the house, nor the sound of steps. For all was one weary confused trouble in her brain, and everything seemed forced and unnatural, as if it were the mingling of some dream. Mrs Barclay had bidden her walk as far as the pier, and in all obedience she had done as she was told, reaching the pier entrance; and then, attracted she knew not how or why by the darkness and silence, she turned on to the wood

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Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Three.

Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Three.

“Yes, yes. I do pray fervently for help.” “And you’ve got to rouse yourself up, my dear, and do something to keep from thinking.” “I can’t—I can’t, dear Mrs Barclay.” “Oh, yes, you can, my dear. Not for yourself; I want you to help me.” “Help you?” “Yes, my dear; help me.” “I’ll try,” said Claire sadly. “That’s my pet; I knew you would.” She embraced Claire tenderly, and then smoothed her hair, as if proud of her. “What shall I do?” she said to herself. “Booking? No: jools always please womenfol

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Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Four.

Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Four.

“And I know they are not, my dear child. I’ll tell you why: they’re not diamonds at all, only some fairish imitations—paste—that my Jo-si-ah bought.” “No, no,” persisted Claire; “they are valuable diamonds.” “Well, my dear, I’m not a clever woman at all; but I’ve had so much to do with precious stones that I can’t help telling ’em directly. There’s nothing valu’ble about them but the silver setting, and if you melt that down there isn’t ten pounds’ worth in the lot.” “Mrs Barclay—” “Ah, I’m righ

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Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Five.

Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Five.

“No, I wasn’t, Colonel,” said Barclay warmly. “You’re a little too much for me, sir, and though you shy the New Testament at me like that (and I never read it), perhaps, money-lender as I am, I’m as honest a man, and as true a friend as you.” “No doubt about it, my dear Barclay,” said Mellersh with a sneer. “I wasn’t thinking about Gamaliel, or Paul either, sir; but, since you will have it I was asking myself whether you—a clever card-player—” “Say sharper, Barclay.” “By gad, I will, sir,” cried

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Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Six.

Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Six.

“Claire Denville,” he cried in a curious, reckless tone which made Sir Harry stare. Mellersh involuntarily glanced round, as if fearing that Richard Linnell was present. “Well, Colonel,” said Rockley mockingly, “you don’t drink. Surely you are not trying to steal away my mistress.” “I? No,” said Mellersh. “I did not know you had one.” “Hang it, sir!” cried Rockley, “I have just given her name as a toast. Do you refuse to drink it?” “Yes,” said Mellersh coldly. “It seems to me bad taste to propos

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Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Seven.

Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Seven.

“Your message?” cried Claire, turning pale. “Is—is he worse?” The surgeon bowed his head. “I had hopes when you were here last,” he said gently; “but there has been an unfavourable turn. The poor fellow has been asking for you, Miss Denville; you had better come at once.” He led the way to the infirmary, where the finely-built, strong man lay on the simple pallet, his face telling its own tale more eloquently than words could have spoken it. “Ah, little sister,” he said feebly, as his face lit u

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Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Eight.

Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Eight.

Claire looked up at him wonderingly, and then read the letter aloud. It was a passionate appeal, and at the same time a confession and a farewell; and, as Claire read on, she grew the more confused and wondering. For the letter was addressed to Richard Linnell, asking his forgiveness for the many ways in which the writer, in her tender love and earnest desire for his happiness, had stood between him and Claire, ready to spread reports against her fame, and contrive that Linnell should hear them,

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Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Nine.

Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Nine.

“Colonel Mellersh!” cried Claire. “Yes,” said Richard Linnell. “I have just received this from him. A message from them both.” Claire opened her lips to speak, but her eyes fell upon Richard Linnell’s thoughtful face, and it was he who spoke next, and said slowly: “No: now I come to think of it all, I am not surprised.” Of course, Saltinville talked a great deal about this match, but the worthies of the place talked more about another wedding that took place six months later—a wedding at which L

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