The Master of the Ceremonies

over to the gaol."

  Volume Three, Chapter XXVI.

  BROUGHT HOME.

  "Gentlemen," said Colonel Lascelles, "I am going to ask you to excuseme. You know my old fashion--bed betimes. Rockley will take the chair,and I hope you will enjoy yourselves. Good-night."

  The grey-headed old Colonel quitted the mess-room, and the wine was leftfor the card-tables, after the customary badinage and light conversationthat marked these meetings.

  It had been a special night, and a few extra toasts had been proposed,notably the healths of Sir Matthew Bray and his lady, it having leakedout that the young baronet had at last led the fair Lady Drelincourt tothe altar, with all her charms.

  Sir Matthew, prompted a great deal by Sir Harry Payne--who had butlately rejoined the regiment, looking pale and ill--had made hisresponse, and he was a good deal congratulated, the last to speak to himabout his noble spouse being Sir Harry.

  "Why, Matt," he exclaimed, "you look as if you were going to be hung.Aren't you happy, man?"

  "Happy!" said Sir Matthew, in deep, melodramatic tones. "You speak asif you had not seen my wife."

  Sir Harry stared him full in the face for a few moments, and then burstinto a hearty laugh, but winced directly, and drew in his breathsharply, for the knife Louis Gravani had used struck pretty deep.

  Card-playing went on for a time, the stakes being light, and thensucceeded a bout of drinking, when, with a contemptuous look atMellersh, Rockley, who had been drinking hard, and was strange andexcitable, called upon the party to honour a toast he was about topropose.

  "Claire Denville," he cried in a curious, reckless tone which made SirHarry stare.

  Mellersh involuntarily glanced round, as if fearing that Richard Linnellwas present.

  "Well, Colonel," said Rockley mockingly, "you don't drink. Surely youare 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 propose thehealth of a lady whose father is under sentence of death, and whosebrother is dying not many yards away."

  "Curse you, sir! who are you, to pretend to judge me?" cried Rockleyfuriously. "Gentlemen, I protest against this sort of thing. What wasLascelles thinking about to invite him, after what has taken placebetween us?"

  "Here, Rockley, be quiet," said Sir Matthew.

  "I shall not," cried Rockley. "It is an insult to me. The Colonelshall answer for it, and this Mellersh too."

  "Nonsense!" cried Sir Harry. "Nonsense, man; you can't quarrel with aguest. Never mind the toast. Sit down, and let's have a rubber.Rockley's a bit excited, Mellersh. Don't take any notice of a few hotwords."

  "Silence!" cried Rockley, whose voice was thick with the brandy he hadbeen imbibing day by day. "I want my toast drunk as it should be--Claire Denville."

  "Sit down, man," cried several of his brother-officers. "Here, let'shave a rubber. Sit down, Rockley, and cut. Come, Mellersh."

  The latter shrugged his shoulders, and allowed himself to be drawn intoa game, cutting, and finding himself Rockley's adversary.

  He was singularly fortunate, and in addition he played with the skill ofa master, the consequence being that he and Sir Harry Payne won.

  Rockley rose from the table furious with suppressed anger, and, catchingup a pack of cards, he would have thrown them in Mellersh's face had notSir Harry struck at his arm, so that the cards flew all over the room.

  Mellersh turned pale, but a couple of the most sober officers drew himaside, Sir Matthew joining them directly.

  "Don't take any notice, Mellersh," he said. "We're all sorry.Rockley's as drunk as an owl. They're going to get him off to bed."

  "It was a deliberate insult, gentlemen," said Mellersh quietly.

  "Yes, but he doesn't know what he's about," said Sir Matthew. "We allapologise."

  Meanwhile the rest had summoned several of the regimental servants tohelp in getting Rockley from the room; but he resisted till, seeing thathis case was hopeless, he suddenly exclaimed:

  "Well, then, I'll go, if you'll let me propose one more toast."

  "No, no!" was chorused.

  "Then I shan't go," cried Rockley; "I'll stop and see it out."

  "Let him give a toast," said Sir Harry, "and then he'll go. On yourhonour, Rockley?"

  "On my honour," he said: and he seemed to have grown suddenly sober."Fill, gentlemen. The toast is a lady--not Miss Denville, since itoffends Colonel Mellersh. I will give you the health of a lady who haslong been one of my favourites. Her health even that arch sharper willnot refuse to drink--my mistress, Cora Dean."

  In rapid succession, and in the midst of a deep silence, the claret inColonel Mellersh's glass, and the glass itself, were dashed in MajorRockley's face.

  Rockley uttered a howl of rage that did not seem to be human; and hewould have sprung at Mellersh's throat had he not been restrained, whilethe latter remained perfectly calm.

  "There is no need for us to tear ourselves like brute beasts,gentlemen," he said. "Major Rockley shall have the pleasure of shootingthe arch sharper--myself--where you will arrange--to-morrow morning; butbefore I leave I beg to say that Miss Dean is a lady whom I hold ingreat honour, and any insult to her is an insult to me."

  "Loose me, Bray. Let me get at the cowardly trickster and cheat,"yelled Rockley. "He shall not leave here without my mark upon him. Doyou hear? Loose me. He shall not go."

  He struggled so furiously that he freed himself and was rushing atMellersh, when the door was thrown open and the grey-headed old Colonelof the regiment entered.

  "What is this?" said the Colonel sternly. "Major Rockley, are you mad?I have business, sir, at once, with you."

  Rockley stared from one to the other, and seemed to be sobered on theinstant.

  "Business with me?" he said quickly. "Well, what is it? Payne, I leavemyself in your hands. Now, Colonel, what is it?"

  The old Colonel drew aside and pointed to the door.

  "Go to my quarters, sir," he said sternly. "But you should have someone with you beside me. Sir Harry Payne, you are Major Rockley'sgreatest intimate. Go with him."

  Sir Harry was, after Mellersh, the most sober of the party, his woundhaving necessitated his being abstemious, and he turned to the Colonel.

  "He was very drunk," he said. "We'll get him to bed. I'll talk toMellersh when he is gone, and nothing shall come of it."

  "You have misunderstood my meaning, Payne," said the Colonel sternly."I am not interfering about a card quarrel, sir, or a contemptible brawlabout some profligate woman. This is an affair dealing with the honourof our regiment, as well as Major Rockley's liberty."

  A spasm seemed to have seized Rockley, but he was calm the next moment,and walked steadily to the Colonel's quarters, not a word being spokentill the old officer threw open the door of his study, and they were inthe presence of Lord Carboro', Barclay, Morton Denville, and the ChiefConstable.

  The Colonel was the only one who took a chair, the others bowing inanswer to the invitation to be seated, and remaining standing.

  "Now, Mr Denville," said the Colonel, "Major Rockley is here: will youhave the goodness to repeat the words that you said to me? I must warnyou, though, once more, that this is a terrible charge against yourbrother-officer, and against our regiment. I should advise you to becareful, and unless you have undoubted proof of what you say, tohesitate before you repeat the charge."

  "Sir," said Morton, standing forward, "I am fighting the battle of mypoor father, who has been condemned to death for a crime of which he isinnocent."

  "He has been tried by the laws of his country, Mr Denville, andconvicted."

  "Because everything seemed so black against him, sir, through thedevilish machinations of that man."

  "Be careful, sir," said the Colonel sternly. "Once more, be careful."

&nb
sp; "I must speak out, sir," cried Morton firmly. "I repeat it--thedevilish machinations of this man--who has been the enemy and persecutorof my family ever since he has been here."

  "To the point, sir," said the Colonel, as Rockley stood up with acontemptuous look in his dark eyes, and his tall, well-built figuredrawn to his full height.

  "I will to the point, sir," said Morton. "I charge this man, theinsulter and defamer of my sister, with being the murderer of LadyTeigne!"

  "Hah!"

  It was Major Rockley who uttered that ejaculation: and, springingforward, he had in an instant seized Morton Denville by the throat andborne him against the wall.

  It was a momentary burst of fierce rage that was over directly; and,dropping his hands and stepping back, the Major stood listening asMorton went on.

  "Taking advantage of the similarity of figure between himself and myunfortunate brother, he took Frederick Denville's uniform one night fora disguise, and to cast the suspicion upon an innocent man, should he beseen, and then went to the house and killed that miserable old woman asshe slept."

  "You hear this charge, Rockley?" said the Colonel.

  "Yes, I hear," was the scornful reply.

  "Go on, Mr Denville: I am bound to hear you," said the Colonel. "Whatreason do you give for this impossible act?"

  "Poverty, sir. Losses at the gaming tables. To gain possession of LadyTeigne's jewels."

  "Pish!" ejaculated Rockley, with his dark eyes flashing.

  "Those jewels proved to be false," continued Morton, "and at the firstopportunity Major Rockley took them, in the dead of the night, and threwthem from the end of the pier into the sea."

  "How do you know that?" said the Colonel.

  "I was on the platform beneath, fishing, sir; and the fisherman I waswith dredged them up afterwards, and sold them to Mr Barclay."

  "Yes," said that individual. "I have them still."

  "Bah! Absurd!" cried Rockley, throwing back his head. "ColonelLascelles, are you going to believe this folly?"

  "I am powerless, Major Rockley," said the Colonel in a quick, sharpmanner. "This charge is made in due form."

  "And it is enough for me, sir," said the constable, stepping forward."Major Rockley, I arrest you on the charge of murder."

  Rockley made a quick movement towards the door, but stopped short.

  "Pish! I was surprised," he exclaimed, as the constable sprang in hisway. "What do you want to do?"

  "Take you, sir."

  "What? Disgraced like this?" cried Rockley furiously.

  "Colonel, you will not allow the insult to the regiment. Give your wordthat I will appear."

  "I am helpless, sir," cried the old Colonel.

  "Place me under arrest then, and let me appear in due time."

  "I claim Major Rockley as my prisoner, sir," cried the constablestoutly. "I have a warrant in proper form, and my men waiting. This isnot an ordinary case."

  "Oh, very well," cried Rockley contemptuously; "I am ready. The chargeis as ridiculous as it is disgraceful. I presume that I may return tomy quarters, and tell my servant to pack up a few necessaries?"

  "Of course; of course, Rockley," said the Colonel. "There can be noobjection to this."

  He looked at the constable as he spoke, but that individual made noreply. He placed himself by Rockley's side, and Sir Harry Payne wentout with them.

  "I don't believe it, Rockley," cried the latter. "Here, I'll stand byyou to the end."

  Rockley gave him a grim nod, glanced sharply round, and then strode outto his own quarters only a few yards away.

  "Well, gentlemen," said the Colonel, looking from one to the other;"this is a most painful business for me. Mr Denville, as your father'sson, I cannot blame you very much, but if you had been ten years olderyou would have acted differently."

  "Colonel Lascelles," said Lord Carboro' coldly, "I do not see how MrMorton Denville could have acted differently."

  "I will not argue the point with you, my lord," said the Colonel. "MayI ask you to--My God! What's that?"

  It was a dull report, followed by the hurrying of feet, and theexcitement that would ensue in a barrack at the discharge of fire-arms.

  Before the Colonel could reach the door, it was thrown open, and SirHarry Payne staggered in, white as ashes, and sank into a chair.

  "Water!" he exclaimed. "I'm weak yet."

  "What is it? Are you hurt?" cried the Colonel.

  "No. Good heavens! how horrible," faltered the young man with a sob."Rockley!"

  "Rockley?" cried Morton excitedly.

  "He has blown out his brains!"

  Volume Three, Chapter XXVII.

  A LONG ADIEU.

  Major Rockley's tacit acknowledgment of the truth of the charge againsthim, and the piecing together of the links, showed how, on the night ofLady Teigne's death, he had been absent from the mess for two hours,during which Fred Denville lay drunk in the officers' quarters--madedrunk by the Major's contrivance, so that his uniform could be used.How too, so as further to avert suspicion, the Major had the fiendishaudacity to take the party to perform the serenade where the poor oldvotary of fashion lay dead.

  The truth, so long in coming to the surface, prevailed at last, andStuart Denville, broken and prostrated, found himself the idol of thecrowd from Saltinville, who collected to see him freed from the countygaol.

  "To the barracks, Claire," he whispered. "Let us get away from here."

  They were at the principal hotel, and Claire was standing before him,pale and trembling with emotion.

  "Your blessing and forgiveness first," she murmured. "Oh, father, thatI could be so blind!"

  "So blind?" he said tenderly, as he took her in his arms. "No: say sonoble and so true. Did you not stand by me when you could not helpbelieving me guilty, and I could not speak? But we are wasting time. Ihave sent word to poor Fred. My child, I have his forgiveness to askfor all the past."

  They met the regimental surgeon as they drove up.

  "You have come quickly," he said. "Did you get my message?"

  "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 hasbeen 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 layon the simple pallet, his face telling its own tale more eloquently thanwords could have spoken it.

  "Ah, little sister," he said feebly, as his face lit up with a happysmile. "I wanted you. You will not mind staying with me and talking.Tell me," he continued, as Claire knelt down by his bed's head, "is itall true, or have they been saying I am innocent to make it easier--nowI am going away?"

  "No, no, Fred," said Claire; "it is true that you are quite innocent."

  "Is this the truth?" he said feebly.

  "The truth," whispered Claire; "and you must live--my brother--to helpand protect me."

  "No," he said sadly; "it is too late. I'm glad though that I did notkill the old woman. It seemed all a muddle. I was drunk that night.Poor old dad! Can't they set him free?"

  "My boy!--Fred!--can you forgive me?" cried Denville, bending over theface that gazed up vacantly in his.

  "Who's that?" said the dying man sharply. "I can't see. Only you,Clairy--who's that? Father?"

  "My son!--my boy! Fred, speak to me--forgive--"

  There was a terrible silence in the room as the old man's piteous crydied out, and he sank upon his knees on the other side of the narrowbed, and laid his wrinkled forehead upon his son's breast.

  "Forgive?--you, father?" said Fred at last, in tones that told howrapidly the little life remaining was ebbing away. "It's all right,sir--all a mistake--my life--one long blunder. Take care of Clairyhere--and poor little May."

  "My boy--the mistake has been mine," groaned Denville, "and I ampunished for it now."
r />   "No, no--old father--take care--Clairy here."

  He seemed to doze for a few minutes, and Denville rose to go and ask thesurgeon if anything could be done.

  "Nothing but make his end as peaceful as you can. Ah, my lad, youhere?"

  "Yes," said Morton. "How is he?"

  "Alive," said the surgeon bluntly; and he turned away.

  Fred Denville seemed to revive as soon as he was left alone with hissister; and, looking at her fixedly, he seemed to be struggling to makeout whose was the face that bent over him.

  "Claire--little sister," he said at last, with a smile of rest andcontent. "Clairy--Richard Linnell? Tell me."

  "Oh, Fred, Fred, hush!" she whispered.

  "No, no! Tell me. I can see you clearly now. It would make mehappier. I'm going, dear. A fine, true-hearted fellow; and he lovesyou. Don't let yours be a wrecked