Ravenshoe

  CHAPTER XLVI.

  TO LUNCH WITH LORD ASCOT.

  That same day, Lord Saltire and Lady Ascot were sitting in thedrawing-room window, in South Audley Street, alone. He had come in, ashis custom was, about eleven, and found her reading her great old Bible;he had taken up the paper and read away for a time, saying that he wouldnot interrupt her; she, too, had seemed glad to avoid a _tete-a-tete_conversation, and had continued; but, after a few minutes, he haddropped the paper, and cried--

  "The deuce!"

  "My dear James," said she, "what is the matter?"

  "Matter! why, we have lost a war-steamer, almost without a shot fired.The Russians have got the _Tiger_, crew and all. It is unbearable,Maria; if they are going to blunder like this at the beginning, wherewill it end?"

  Lord Saltire was disgusted with the war from the very beginning, inconsequence of the French alliance, and so the present accident was asfuel for his wrath. Lady Ascot, as loyal a soul as lived, was possiblyrather glad that something had taken up Lord Saltire's attention justthen, for she was rather afraid of him this morning. She knew his greatdislike for Lord Welter, and expected to be scolded for her weaknesswith regard to Adelaide the night before. Moreover, she had the guiltyconsciousness that she had asked Adelaide to come to lunch that morning,of which he did not yet know. So she was rather glad to have a subjectto talk of, not personal.

  "And when did it happen, my dear James?" she asked.

  "On the twelfth of last month, Lady Ascot. Come and sit here in thewindow, and give an account of yourself, will you have the goodness?"

  Now that she saw it must come, she was as cool and as careless as needbe. He could not be hard on her. Charles was to come home to them thatday. She drew her chair up, and laid her withered old hand on his, andthe two grey heads were bent together. Grey heads but green hearts.

  "Look at old Daventry," said Lord Saltire, "on the other side of theway. Don't you see him, Maria, listening to that organ? He is two yearsolder than I am. He looks younger."

  "I don't know that he does. He ought to look older. She led him aterrible life. Have you been to see him lately?"

  "What business is that of yours? So you are going to take Welter's wifeback into your good graces, eh, my lady?"

  "Yes, James."

  "'Yes, James!' I have no patience with you. You are weaker than water.Well, well, we must forgive her, I suppose. She has behaved generousenough about Charles, has she not? I rather admire her scolding poorWilliam Ravenshoe. I must renew our acquaintance."

  "She is coming to lunch to-day."

  "I thought you looked guilty. Is Welter coming?"

  Lady Ascot made no reply. Neither at that moment would Lord Saltire haveheard her if she had. He was totally absorbed in the proceedings of hisold friend Lord Daventry, before mentioned. That venerable dandy hadlistened to the organ until the man had played all his tunes twicethrough, when he had given him half-a-crown, and the man had departed.Immediately afterwards, a Punch and Judy had come, which Punch and Judywas evidently an acquaintance of his; for, on descrying him, it hadhurried on with its attendant crowd, and breathlessly pitched itself infront of him, let down its green curtains, and plunged at once _inmedias res_. The back of the show was towards Lord Saltire; but, just ashe saw Punch look round the corner, to see which way the Devil was gone,he saw two pickpockets advance on Lord Daventry from different quarters,with fell intentions. They met at his tail-coat pocket, quarrelled, andfought. A policeman bore down on them; Lord Daventry was stillunconscious, staring his eyes out of his head. The affair was becomingexciting, when Lord Saltire felt a warm tear drop on his hand.

  "James," said Lady Ascot, "don't be hard on Welter. I love Welter. Thereis good in him; there is, indeed. I know how shamefully he has behaved;but don't be hard on him, James."

  "My dearest Maria," said Lord Saltire, "I would not give you onemoment's uneasiness for the world. I do not like Welter. I dislike him.But I will treat him for your sake and Ascot's as though I lovedhim--there. Now about Charles. He will be with us to-day, thank God.What the deuce are we to do?"

  "I cannot conceive," said Lady Ascot; "it is such a terrible puzzle. Onedoes not like to move, and yet it seems such a sin to stand still."

  "No answer to your advertisement, of course?" said Lord Saltire.

  "None whatever. It seems strange, too, with such a reward as we haveoffered; but it was worded so cautiously, you see."

  Lord Saltire laughed. "Cautiously, indeed. No one could possibly guesswhat it was about. It was a miracle of obscurity; but it won't do to goany further yet." After a pause, he said--"You are perfectly certain ofyour facts, Maria, for the fiftieth time."

  "Perfectly certain. I committed a great crime, James. I did it forAlicia's sake. Think what my bringing up had been, how young I was, andforgive me if you can; excuse me if you cannot."

  "Nonsense about a great crime, Maria. It was a great mistake, certainly.If you had only had the courage to have asked Petre one simple question!Alicia never guessed the fact, of course?"

  "Never."

  "Do you think, Maria, that by any wild possibility James or Nora knew?"

  "How could they possibly? What a foolish question."

  "I don't know. These Roman Catholics do strange things," said LordSaltire, staring out of window at the crowd.

  "If she knew, why did she change the child?"

  "Eh?" said Lord Saltire, turning round.

  "You have not been attending," said Lady Ascot.

  "No, I have not," said Lord Saltire; "I was looking at Daventry."

  "Do you still," said Lord Saltire, "since all our researches andfailures, stick to the belief that the place was in Hampshire?"

  "I do indeed, and in the north of Hampshire too."

  "I wonder," said Lord Saltire, turning round suddenly, "whetherMackworth knows?"

  "Of course he does," said Lady Ascot, quietly.

  "Hum," said Lord Saltire, "I had a hold over that man once; but I threwit away as being worthless. I wish I had made a bargain for myinformation. But what nonsense; how can he know?"

  "Know?" said Lady Ascot, scornfully; "what is there a confessor don'tknow? Don't tell me that all Mackworth's power came from finding outpoor Densil's _faux pas_. The man had a sense of power other than that."

  "Then he never used it," said Lord Saltire. "Densil, dear soul, neverknew."

  "I said a _sense_ of power," said Lady Ascot, "which gave him hisconsummate impudence. Densil never dreamt of it."

  At this point the policeman had succeeded in capturing the twopickpockets, and was charging them before Lord Daventry. Lord Daventryaudibly offered them ten shillings a-piece to say nothing about it; atwhich the crowd cheered.

  "Would it be any use to offer money to the priest--say ten thousandpounds or so?" said Lord Saltire. "You are a religious woman, Maria, andas such are a better judge of a priest's conscience than I. What do youthink?"

  "I don't know," said Lady Ascot. "I don't know but what the man ishigh-minded, in his heathenish way. You know Cuthbert's story of hishaving refused ten thousand pounds to hush up the matter about Charles.His information would be a blow to the Popish Church in the West. Hewould lose position by accepting your offer. I don't know what hisposition may be worth. You can try him, if all else fails; nototherwise, I should say. We must have a closer search."

  "When you come to think, Maria, he can't know. If Densil did not know,how could he?"

  "Old Clifford might have known, and told him."

  "If we are successful, and if Adelaide has no children--two improbablethings--" said Lord Saltire, "why then----"

  "Why then----" said Lady Ascot. "But at the worst you are going to makeCharles a rich man. Shall you tell William?"

  "Not yet. Cuthbert should never be told, I say; but that is Charles'sbusiness. I have prepared William."

  "Cuthbert will not live," said Lady Ascot.

  "Not a chance of it, I believe. Marston says his heart-complaint doesnot exist, but I think differ
ently."

  At this moment, Lord Daventry's offer of money having been refused, thewhole crowd moved off in procession towards the police-station. Firstcame three little girls with big bonnets and babies, who, trying to dotwo things at once--to wit, head the procession by superior speed,and at the same time look round at Lord Daventry and thepickpockets--succeeded in neither, but only brought the three babies'heads in violent collision every other step. Next came Lord Daventry,resigned. Next the policeman, with a pickpocket in each hand, who weregiving explanations. Next the boys; after them, the Punch and Judy,which had unfortunately seen the attempt made, and must to the stationas a witness, to the detriment of business. Bringing up the rear werethe British public, who played practical jokes with one another. Thedogs kept a parallel course in the gutter, and barked. In turning thefirst corner, the procession was cut into, and for a time thrown intoconfusion, by a light-hearted costermonger, who, returning from asuccessful market with an empty barrow, drove it in among them withconsiderable velocity. After which, they disappeared like the baselessfabric of a dream, only to be heard of again in the police reports.

  "Lord and Lady Welter."

  Lord Saltire had seen them drive up to the door; so he was quiteprepared. He had been laughing intensely; but quite silently, at poorLord Daventry's adventures, and so, when he turned round, he had a smileon his face. Adelaide had done kissing Lady Ascot, and was still holdingboth her hands with a look of intense mournful affection. Lord Saltirewas so much amused by Adelaide's acting, and her simplicity inperforming before himself, that, when he advanced to Lord Welter, he wasperfectly radiant.

  "Well, my dear scapegrace, and how do _you_ do?" he said, giving hishand to Lord Welter; "a more ill-mannered fellow I never saw in my life.To go away and hide yourself with that lovely young wife of yours, andleave all us oldsters to bore one another to death. What the deuce doyou mean by it, eh, sir?"

  Lord Welter did not reply in the same strain. He said--

  "It is very kind of you to receive me like this. I did not expect it.Allow me to tell you, that I think your manner towards me would not bequite so cordial if you knew everything; there is a great deal that youdon't know, and which I don't mean to tell you."

  It is sometimes quite impossible, even for a writer of fiction, a manwith _carte blanche_ in the way of invention, to give the cause, for aman's actions. I have thought and thought, and I cannot for the life ofme tell you why Lord Welter answered Lord Saltire like that, whether itwas from deep cunning or merely from recklessness. If it was cunning, itwas cunning of a high order. It was genius. The mixture of respect andkindness towards the person, and of carelessness about his favourwas--well--very creditable. Lord Saltire did not think he was acting,and his opinion is of some value, I believe. But then, we must rememberthat he was prepared to think the best of Lord Welter that day, and mustmake allowances. I am not prepared with an opinion; let every man formhis own. I only know that Lord Saltire tapped his teeth with hissnuff-box and remained silent. Lord Welter, whether consciously or no,was nearer the half of a million of money than he had ever been before.

  But Adelaide's finer sense was offended at her husband's method ofproceeding. For one instant, when she heard him say what he did, shecould have killed him. "Reckless, brutal, selfish," she said fiercelyto herself, "throwing a duke's fortune to the winds by sheer obstinacy."(At this time she had picked up Lady Ascot's spectacles, and wasplayfully placing them on her venerable nose.) "I wish I had never seenhim. He is maddening. If he only had some brains, where might not webe?" But the conversation of that morning came to her mind with a jar,and the suspicion with it, that he had more brains of a sort than she;that, though they were on a par in morality, there was a strength abouthim, against which her finesse was worthless. She knew she could neverdeceive Lord Saltire, and there was Lord Saltire tapping him on the kneewith his snuff-box, and talking earnestly and confidentially to him. Shewas beginning to respect her husband. _He_ dared face that terrible oldman with his hundreds of thousands; _she_ trembled in his presence.

  Let us leave her, fooling our dear old friend to the top of her bent,and hear what the men were saying.

  "I know you have been, as they say now, 'very fast,'" said Lord Saltire,drawing nearer to him. "I don't want to ask any questions which don'tconcern me. You have sense enough to know that it is worth your while tostand well with me. Will you answer me a few questions which do concernme?"

  "I can make no promises, Lord Saltire. Let me hear what they are, willyou?"

  "Why," said Lord Saltire, "about Charles Ravenshoe."

  "About Charles!" said Lord Welter, looking up at Lord Saltire. "Oh, yes;any number. I have nothing to conceal there. Of course you will knoweverything. I had sooner you knew it from me than another."

  "I don't mean about Adelaide; let that go by. Perhaps I am glad thatthat is as it is. But have you known where Charles was lately? Your wifetold William to come to her this morning; that is why I ask."

  "I have known a very short time. When William Ravenshoe came thismorning, I gave him every information. Charles will be with you to-day."

  "I am satisfied."

  "I don't care to justify myself, but if it had not been for me you wouldnever have seen him. And more. I am not the first man, Lord Saltire, whohas done what I have done."

  "No, of course not," said Lord Saltire. "I can't fling the first stoneat you; God forgive me."

  "But you must see, Lord Saltire, that I could not have guessed thatEllen was his sister."

  "Hey?" said Lord Saltire. "Say that again."

  "I say that, when I took Ellen Horton away from Ravenshoe, I did notknow that she was Charles's sister."

  Lord Saltire fell back in his chair, and said--

  "Good God!"

  "It is very terrible, looked at one way, Lord Saltire. If you come tolook at it another, it amounts to this, that she was only, as far as Iknew, a gamekeeper's daughter. Do you remember what you said to Charlesand me when we were rusticated?"

  "Yes. I said that one vice was considered more venial than another vicenowadays; and I say so still. I had sooner that you had died of deliriumtremens in a ditch than done this."

  "So had not I, Lord Saltire. When I became involved with Adelaide, Ithought Ellen was provided for; I, even then, had not heard this_esclandre_ about Charles. She refused a splendid offer of marriagebefore she left me."

  "We thought she was dead. Where is she gone?"

  "I have no idea. She refused everything. She stayed on as Adelaide'smaid, and left us suddenly. We have lost all trace of her."

  "What a miserable, dreadful business!" said Lord Saltire.

  "Very so," said Lord Welter. "Hadn't we better change the subject, mylord?" he added, drily. "I am not at all sure that I shall submit tomuch more cross-questioning. You must not push me too far, or I shallget savage."

  "I won't," said Lord Saltire. "But, Welter, for God's sake, answer metwo more questions. Not offensive ones, on my honour."

  "Fifty, if you will; only consider my rascally temper."

  "Yes, yes! When Ellen was with you, did she ever hint that she was inpossession of any information about the Ravenshoes?"

  "Yes; or rather, when she went, she left a letter, and in it she saidthat she had something to tell Charles."

  "Good, good!" said Lord Saltire. "She may know. We must find her. Now,Charles is coming here to-day. Had you better meet him, Welter?"

  "We have met before. All that is past is forgiven between us."

  "Met!" said Lord Saltire, eagerly. "And what did he say to you? Wasthere a scene, Welter?"

  Lord Welter paused before he answered, and Lord Saltire, the wise,looked out of the window. Once Lord Welter seemed going to speak, butthere was a catch in his breath. The second attempt was more fortunate.He said, in a low voice--

  "Why, I'll tell you, my lord. Charles Ravenshoe is broken-hearted."

  "Lord and Lady Hainault."

  And Miss Corby, and Gus, and Flora, and Archy, the footman migh
t haveadded, but was probably afraid of spoiling his period.

  It was rather awkward. They were totally unexpected, and Lord Hainaultand Lord Welter had not met since Lord Hainault had denounced LordWelter at Tattersall's. It was so terribly awkward that Lord Saltirerecovered his spirits, and looked at the two young men with a smile. Theyoung men disappointed him, however, for Lord Hainault said, "How d'yedo, Welter?" and Lord Welter said, "How do, Hainault?" and the matterwas settled, at all events for the present.

  When all salutations had been exchanged among the ladies, and Archy hadhoisted himself up into Mary's lap, and Lady Hainault had imperiallysettled herself in a chair, with Flora at her knee, exactly oppositeAdelaide, there was a silence for a moment, during which it becameapparent that Gus had a question to ask of Lady Ascot. Mary trembled,but the others were not quite sorry to have the silence broken. Gus,having obtained leave of the house, wished to know whether or not Satan,should he repent of his sins, would have a chance of regaining hisformer position?

  "That silly Scotch nursemaid has been reading Burns's poems to him, Isuppose," said Lady Hainault; "unless Mary herself has been doing so.Mary prefers anything to Watts's hymns, Lady Ascot."

  "You must not believe one word Lady Hainault says, Lady Ascot," saidMary. "She has been shamefully worsted in an argument, and she isresorting to all sorts of unfair means to turn the scales. I never reada word of Burns's poems in my life."

  "You will be pleased not to believe a single word Miss Corby says, LadyAscot," said Lady Hainault. "She has convicted herself. She sings, 'Thebanks and braes of bonny Doon'--very badly, I will allow, but still shesings it."

  There was a laugh at this. Anything was better than the silence whichhad gone before. It became evident that Lady Hainault would not speak toAdelaide. It was very uncomfortable. Dear Mary would have got up anotherfriendly passage of arms with Lady Hainault, but she was too nervous.She would have even drawn out Gus, but she saw that Gus, dear fellow,was not in a humour to be trusted that morning. He evidently was awarethat the dogs of war were loose, and was champing the bit like awar-horse. Lady Ascot was as nervous as Mary, dying to say something,but unable. Lady Hainault was calmly inexorable, Adelaide sublimelyindifferent. If you will also consider that Lady Ascot was awaiting newsof Charles--nay, possibly Charles himself--and that, in asking Adelaideto lunch, she had overlooked the probability that William would bringhim back with him--that Lord Welter had come without invitation, andthat the Hainaults wore totally unexpected--you will think that the dearold lady was in about as uncomfortable a position as she could be, andthat any event, even the house catching fire, must change matters forthe better.

  Not at all. They say that, when things come to the worst, they mustmend. That is undeniable. But when are they at the worst? Who can tellthat? Lady Ascot thought they were at the worst now, and was takingcomfort. And then the footman threw open the door, and announced--

  "Lady Hainault and Miss Hicks."

  At this point Lady Ascot lost her temper, and exclaimed aloud, "This istoo much!" They thought old Lady Hainault did not hear her; but she did,and so did Hicks. They heard it fast enough, and remembered it too.

  In great social catastrophes, minor differences are forgotten. In theIndian mutiny, people spoke to one another, and made friends, who wereat bitterest variance before. There are crises so terrible that peopleof all creeds and shades of political opinion must combine against acommon enemy. This was one. When this dreadful old woman made hertotally unexpected entrance, and when Lady Ascot showed herself soentirely without discretion as to exclaim aloud in the way she did,young Lady Hainault and Adelaide were so horrified, so suddenlyquickened to a sense of impending danger, that they began talking loudlyand somewhat affectionately to one another. And young Lady Hainault,whose self-possession was scattered to the four winds by this lastmisfortune, began asking Adelaide all about Lady Brittlejug's drum, infull hearing of her mamma-in-law, who treasured up every word she said.And, just as she became conscious of saying wildly that she was so sorryshe could not have been there--as if Lady Brittlejug would ever have hadthe impudence to ask her--she saw Lord Saltire, across the room, lookingquietly at her, with the expression on his face of one of the idols atAbou Simbel.

  Turn Lady Ascot once fairly to bay, you would (if you can forgive slang)get very little change out of her. She came of valiant blood. NoHeadstall was ever yet known to refuse his fence. Even her poor brother,showing as he did traces of worn-out blood (the men always go ageneration or two before the women), had been a desperate rider,offered to kick Fouquier Tinville at his trial, and had kept Simonwaiting on the guillotine while he pared his nails. Her ladyship roseand accepted battle; she advanced towards old Lady Hainault, and,leaning on her crutched stick, began--

  "And how do you do, my dear Lady Hainault?"

  She thought Lady Hainault would say something very disagreeable, as sheusually did. She looked at her, and was surprised to see how altered shewas. There was something about her looks that Lady Ascot did not like.

  "My dear Lady Ascot," said old Lady Hainault, "I thank you. I am a veryold woman. I never forget my friends, I assure you. Hicks, is LordHainault here?--I am very blind, you will be glad to hear, Lady Ascot.Hicks, I want Lord Hainault, instantly. Fetch him to me, you stupidwoman. Hainault! Hainault!"

  Our Lady Hainault rose suddenly, and put her arm round her waist."Mamma," she said, "what do you want!"

  "I want Hainault, you foolish girl. Is that him? Hainault, I have madethe will, my dear boy. The rogue came to me, and I told him that thewill was made, and that Britten and Sloane had witnessed it. Did I doright or not, eh? Ha! ha! I followed you here to tell you. Don't letthat woman Ascot insult me, Hainault. She has committed a felony, thatwoman. I'll have her prosecuted. And all to get that chit Alicia marriedto that pale-faced papist, Petre Ravenshoe. She thinks I didn't know it,does she? I knew she knew it well enough, and I knew it too, and I havecommitted a felony too, in holding my tongue, and we'll both go toBridewell, and----"

  Lord Saltire here came up, and quietly offered her his arm. She took itand departed, muttering to herself.

  I must mention here, that the circumstance mentioned by old LadyHainault, of having made a will, had nothing to do with the story. Awill had existed to the detriment of Lady Hainault and Miss Hicks, andshe had most honourably made another in their favour.

  Lady Ascot would have given worlds to unsay many things she hadheretofore said to her. It was evident that poor old Lady Hainault'smind was failing. Lady Ascot would have prayed her forgiveness on herknees, but it was too late. Lady Hainault never appeared in publicagain. She died a short time after this, and, as I mentioned before,left poor Miss Hicks a rich woman. Very few people knew how much goodthere was in the poor old soul. Let the Casterton tenantry testify.

  On this occasion her appearance had, as we have seen, the effect ofreconciling Lady Hainault and Adelaide. A very few minutes after herdeparture William entered the room, followed by Hornby, whom none ofthem had ever seen before.

  They saw from William's face that something fresh was the matter. Heintroduced Hornby, who seemed concerned, and then gave an open note toLord Saltire. He read it over, and then said--

  "This unhappy boy has disappeared again. Apparently his interview withyou determined him, my dear Lady Welter. Can you give us any clue? Thisis his letter:"

  "DEAR LIEUTENANT,--I must say good-bye even to you, my last friend. I was recognised in your service to-day by Lady Welter, and it will not do for me to stay in it any longer. It was a piece of madness ever taking to such a line of life."

  [Here there were three lines carefully erased. Lord Saltire mentioned it, and Hornby quietly said, "I erased those lines previous to showing the letter to any one; they referred to exceedingly private matters." Lord Saltire bowed and continued.] "A hundred thanks for your kindness; you have been to me more like a brother than a master. We shall meet again, when you little expect it. Pray
don't assist in any search after me; it will be quite useless.

  CHARLES HORTON."

  Adelaide came forward as pale as death. "I believe I am the cause ofthis. I did not dream it would have made him alter his resolution sosuddenly. When I saw him yesterday he was in a groom's livery. I toldhim he was disgracing himself, and told him, if he was desperate, to goto the war."

  They looked at one another in silence.

  "Then," Lady Ascot said, "he has enlisted, I suppose. I wonder in whatregiment?--could it be in yours, Mr. Hornby?"

  "The very last in which he would, I should say," said Hornby, "if hewants to conceal himself. He must know that I should find him at once."

  So Lady Ascot was greatly pooh-poohed by the other wiseacres, she beingright all the time.

  "I think," said Lord Saltire to Lady Ascot, "that perhaps we had bettertake Mr. Hornby into our confidence." She agreed, and, after theHainaults and Welters were gone, Hornby remained behind with them, andheard things which rather surprised him.

  "Inquiries at the depots of various regiments would be as good a plan asany. Meanwhile I will give any assistance in my power. Pray, would itnot be a good plan to advertise for him, and state all the circumstancesof the case?"

  "Why, no," said Lord Saltire, "we do not wish to make known all thecircumstances yet. Other interests have to be consulted, and ourinformation is not yet complete. Complete! we have nothing to go on butmere surmise."

  "You will think me inquisitive," said Hornby. "But you little know whata right (I had almost said) I have to ask these questions. Does thepresent Mr. Ravenshoe know of all this?"

  "Not one word."

  And so Hornby departed with William, and said nothing at all aboutEllen. As they left the door a little shoeblack looked inquisitively atthem, and seemed as though he would speak. They did not notice thechild. He could have told them what they wanted to know, but how werethey to guess that?

  Impossible. Actually, according to the sagacious Welter, half a millionpounds, and other things, going a-begging, and a dirty little shoeblackthe only human being who knew where the heir was! A pig is an obstinateanimal, likewise a sheep; but what pig or sheep was ever so provoking inits obstinacy as Charles in his good-natured, well-meaning, blunderingstupidity? In a very short time you will read an advertisement put into_The Times_ by Lady Ascot's solicitor, which will show the reason forsome of the great anxiety which she and others felt to have him on thespot. At first Lady Ascot and Lord Saltire lamented his absence, fromthe hearty goodwill they bore him; but, as time wore on, they began toget deeply solicitous for his return for other reasons. Lady Ascot'shands were tied. She was in a quandary, and, when the intelligence cameof his having enlisted, and there seemed nearly a certainty of his beingshipped off to foreign parts, and killed before she could get at him,she was in a still greater quandary. Suppose, before being killed, hewas to marry some one? "Good heavens, my dear James, was ever anunfortunate wretch punished so before for keeping a secret?"

  "I should say not, Maria," said Lord Saltire, coolly. "I declare I lovethe lad the better the more trouble he gives one. There never was such adear obstinate dog. Welter has been making his court, and has made itwell--with an air of ruffian-like simplicity, which was charming,because novel. I, even I, can hardly tell whether it was real or not. Hehas ten times the brains of his shallow-pated little wife, whosemanoeuvres, my dear Maria, I should have thought even you, notordinarily a sagacious person, might have seen through."

  "I believe the girl loves me; and don't be rude, James."

  "I believe she don't care twopence for you; and I shall be as rude as Iplease, Maria."

  Poor Lord Ascot had a laugh at this little battle between his mother andher old friend. So Lord Saltire turned to him and said--

  "At half-past one to-morrow morning you will be awakened by threeruffians in crape masks, with pistols, who will take you out of bed withhorrid threats, and walk you upstairs and down in your shirt, until youhave placed all your money and valuables into their hands. They willeffect an entrance by removing a pane of glass, and introducing a smallboy, disguised as a shoeblack, who will give them admittance."

  "Good Gad!" said Lord Ascot, "what are you talking about?"

  "Don't you see that shoeblack over the way?" said Lord Saltire. "He hasbeen watching the house for two hours; the burglars are going to put himin at the back-kitchen window. There comes Daventry back from thepolice-station. I bet you a sovereign he has his boots cleaned."

  Poor Lord Ascot jumped at the bet like an old war-horse. "I'd have givenyou three to one if you had waited."

  Lord Daventry had indeed re-appeared on the scene; his sole attendantwas one of the little girls with a big bonnet and a baby, beforementioned, who had evidently followed him to the police-station, watchedhim in, and then accompanied him home, staring at him as at a man ofdark experiences, a man not to be lost sight of on any account, lestsome new and exciting thing should befall him meanwhile. This younglady, having absented herself some two hours on this errand, and havingthereby deprived the baby of its natural nourishment, was now suddenlyencountered by an angry mother, and, knowing what she had to expect, wasforced to "dodge" her infuriated parent round and round Lord Daventry,in a way which made that venerable nobleman giddy, and caused him tostop, shut his eyes, and feebly offer them money not to do it any more.Ultimately the young lady was caught and cuffed, the baby was refreshed,and his lordship free.

  Lord Saltire won his pound, to his great delight. Such an event as ashoeblack in South Audley Street was not to be passed by. Lord Daventryentered into conversation with our little friend, asked him if he wentto school? if he could say the Lord's Prayer? how much he made in theday? whether his parents were alive? and ultimately had his bootscleaned, and gave the boy half-a-crown. After which he disappeared fromthe scene, and, like many of our large staff of supernumeraries, fromthis history for evermore--he has served his turn with us. Let usdismiss the kind-hearted old dandy with our best wishes.

  Lord Saltire saw him give the boy the half-crown. He saw the boy pocketit as though it were a halfpenny: and afterwards continue to watch thehouse, as before. He was more sure than ever that the boy meant no good.If he had known that he was waiting for one chance of seeing Charlesagain, perhaps he would have given him half-a-crown himself. What adifference one word from that boy would have made in our story!

  When they came back from dinner, there was the boy still lying on thepavement, leaning against his box. The little girl who had had her earsboxed came and talked to him for a time, and went on. After a time shecame back with a quartern loaf in her hand, the crumbs of which shepicked as she went along, after the manner of children sent on an errandto the baker's. When she had gone by, he rose and leant against therailings, as though lingering, loth to go.

  Once more, later, Lord Saltire looked out, and the boy was still there."I wonder what the poor little rogue wants?" said Lord Saltire; "I havehalf a mind to go and ask him." But he did not. It was not to be, mylord. You might have been with Charles the next morning at Windsor. Youmight have been in time if you had; you will have a different sort ofmeeting with him than that, if you meet him at all. Beyond the grave, mylord, that meeting must be. Possibly a happier one, who knows? who daresay?

  The summer night closed in, but the boy lingered yet, to see, ifperchance he might, the only friend he ever had; to hear, if he might,the only voice which had ever spoken gently and kindly to him of higherthings: the only voice which had told him that strange, wild tale,scarce believed as yet, of a glorious immortality.

  The streets began to get empty. The people passed him--

  "Ones and twos, And groups; the latest said the night grew chill, And hastened; but he loitered; whilst the dews Fell fast, he loitered still."