rest at last while the Doctor explained how, as they were drawing within sight of land, Frank had taken the spy-glass from the locker and brought the whole scene to their view. How they had seen my white dress first; and then to their surprise no other figure except one large one, which, as they drew a little nearer, proved to be a man, and well knowing no man had a right there, and suspecting some annoyance at the least, they had steered directly for the beach; and Frank had leaped from the boat before it touched the shore and sped up the hill closely followed by Charley Grant. How thankful I was, and how tired after my long strain of fear! I longed to cry or to go to sleep, I hardly knew which; and was grateful, indeed, to dear Dr. Gilbert for taking me off to a shady place away from all the bustle, and letting me rest there undisturbed. Of the picnic and its feast I have little more to tell. Perhaps the coarser fare so hard-worked for was better to the hungry ones than more accustomed dainties would have been. Perhaps potatoes and eggs are never so unrivaled in flavor as when roasted in the ashes of a little camp oven. I am inclined to judge so, but was hardly competent to form an opinion on that occasion. From time to time, as the grand cooking business approached its climax, one or another of the unemployed would steal down as volunteer-scout to overlook the prisoner, and the last report was that he was asleep with his hat shoved over his eyes. But when we finally gathered together our little band, and packed our baskets again, and mourned over the untimely end of shrimps and sticklebacks, and went our way down to the beach with a shuddering thought of that leaky little boat with its disagreeable occupant, who were to follow in our homeward track-behold! no boat was there. Boat and boatman alike had disappeared, the rope was cut-prize was gone-whither? The horizon told no tales, nor in our homeward sail did we see any thing resembling our escaped prisoner and his craft. He had stolen a march upon us, that was all we knew. How or where we shall never know, I suppose; for from that day and from that hour I have never seen my burglar! We found on our return, as we felt sure we should, the black dog and the red shawl, and underneath the Gilbert hamper, untouchedalthough the faithful old fellow by its side had guarded it from fifty loungers-had resisted innumerable temptations in the shape of sticks thrown into the water, etc., and the constant temptation of his own dinnerless instincts, rendered keener than ever by the chronic scent of chicken-pie under his very nose! There's a dog for you. Well, as I said, I never again saw my burglar, nor am I at all anxious for that honor. But three days afterward as I was walking alone up Chapel Street toward dusk, quickening my steps as the shadows deepened, approached two men, who shuffled before me with lounging steps, and I heard one of them say, “I tell you she was a bang-up, smart gal! All the while she sat still with all six of them in her lap, and he never misdoubted it!" I hurried on, determined to pass them and get a good look at their faces, when they turned suddenly into a cross-street and disappeared in the darkness of an oyster-cellar. I am sure it was not my burglar, but it must have been his pal. ON THE SHORE. How calm he lies and still! The sea, who slew him, laid him there, Along the shingle bleak and bare, With wild caresses, in despair For having wrought her will: With deep remorseful moan In every wave that smites the strand, Like theirs who rear a frantic hand To heaven the while aghast they stand At what themselves have done. "Twas but an hour ago, The crested billows in their pride His stripling energies defied, And choked the anguished gasp that cried For rescue from his foe. BY WILKIE COLLINS, AUTHOR OF "NO NAME," "THE WOMAN IN WHITE," ETC. CHAPTER III. THE BRINK OF DISCOVERY. THE morning of the interview between Mrs. cottage a morning of serious reflection for the squire at the great house. VOL. XXXI.-No. 185.-TT Even Allan's easy-tempered nature had not been proof against the disturbing influence exercised on it by the events of the last three days. Midwinter's abrupt departure had vexed him, of his inquiries re lating to Miss Gwilt weighed unpleasantly on his mind. Since his visit to the cottage he had felt impatient and ill at ease, for the first time | wrote privately to Miss Gwilt's reference on this in his life, with every body who came near him. very subject. I had long observed that my govImpatient with Pedgift Junior, who had called erness was singularly reluctant to speak of her on the previous evening to announce his de- family and her friends; and without attributing parture for London on business the next day, her silence to other than perfectly proper moand to place his services at the disposal of his tives, I felt it my duty to my daughter to make client; ill at ease with Miss Gwilt, at a secret some inquiry on the subject. The answer that meeting with her in the park that morning; and I have received is satisfactory as far as it goes. ill at ease in his own company, as he now sat My correspondent informs me that Miss Gwilt's moodily smoking in the solitude of his room. story is a very sad one, and that her own con"I can't live this sort of life much longer," duct throughout has been praiseworthy in the thought Allan. "If nobody will help me to extreme. The circumstances (of a domestic naput the awkward question to Miss Gwilt, I must ture, as I gather) are all plainly stated in a stumble on some way of putting it for myself." collection of letters now in the possession of What way? The answer to that question Miss Gwilt's reference. This lady is perfectly was as hard to find as ever. Allan tried to stim- willing to let me see the letters-but not posulate his sluggish invention by walking up and sessing copies of them, and being personally redown the room, and was disturbed by the ap-sponsible for their security, she is reluctant, if it pearance of the footman at the first turn. can be avoided, to trust them to the post; and "Now then! what is it?" he asked, impa- she begs me to wait until she or I can find tiently. some reliable person who can be employed to "A letter, Sir; and the person waits for an transmit the packet from her hands to mine. answer." Allan looked at the address. It was in a strange handwriting. He opened the letter; and a little note inclosed in it dropped to the ground. The note was directed, still in the strange handwriting, to "Mrs. Mandeville, 18 Kingsdown Crescent, Bayswater. Favored by Mr. Armadale." More and more surprised, Allan turned for information to the signature at the end of the letter. It was "Anne Milroy." "Anne Milroy ?" he repeated. "It must be the major's wife. What can she possibly want with me?" By way of discovering what she wanted, Allan did at last what he might more wisely have done at first. He sat down to read the letter. "Private. "THE COTTAGE, Monday. "DEAR SIR,—The name at the end of these lines will, I fear, recall to you a very rude return made on my part, some time since, for an act of neighborly kindness on yours. I can only say in excuse that I am a great sufferer, and that if I was ill-tempered enough, in a moment of irritation under severe pain, to send back your present of fruit, I have regretted doing so ever since. Attribute this letter, if you please, to my desire to make you some atonement, and to my wish to be of service to our good friend and landlord if I possibly can. "Under these circumstances it has struck me that you might possibly, with your interest in the matter, be not unwilling to take charge of the papers. If I am wrong in this idea, and if you are not disposed, after what I have told you, to go to the trouble and expense of a journey to London, you have only to burn my letter and inclosure, and to think no more about it. If you decide on becoming my envoy, I gladly provide you with the necessary introduction to Mrs. Mandeville. You have only, on presenting it, to receive the letters in a sealed packet, to send them here on your return to ThorpeAmbrose, and to wait an early communication from me acquainting you with the result. "In conclusion, I have only to add that I see no impropriety in your taking (if you feel so inclined) the course that I propose to you. Miss Gwilt's manner of receiving such allusions as I have made to her family circumstances has rendered it unpleasant for me (and would render it quite impossible for you) to seek information in the first instance from herself. I am certainly justified in applying to her reference; and you are certainly not to blame for being the medium of safely transmitting a sealed communication from one lady to another. If I find in that communication family secrets which can not honorably be mentioned to any third person, I shall of course be obliged to keep you waiting until I have first appealed to Miss Gwilt. If I find nothing recorded but what is to her honor, and what is sure to raise her still higher in your estimation, I am undeniably doing her a service by taking you into my confidence. This is how I look at the matter-but pray don't allow me to influence you. "I have been informed of the question which you addressed to my husband the day before yesterday on the subject of Miss Gwilt. From all I have heard of you, I am quite sure that your anxiety to know more of this charming person than you know now is an anxiety proceeding from the most honorable motives. Believing this, I feel a woman's interest-incurable invalid "In any case I have one condition to make, as I am-in assisting you. If you are desirous which I am sure you will understand to be inof becoming acquainted with Miss Gwilt's fami- dispensable. The most innocent actions are ly circumstances without directly appealing to liable, in this wicked world, to the worst possiMiss Gwilt herself, it rests with you to make the ble interpretation. I must therefore request discovery-and I will tell you how. that you will consider this communication as "It so happens that some few days since I strictly private. I write to you in a confidence which is on no account (until circumstances mentioned on the previous evening at the great may, in my opinion, justify the revelation of it) house. The necessary explanations exchanged, to extend beyond our two selves. "Believe me, dear Sir, truly yours, In this tempting form the unscrupulous ingenuity of the major's wife had set the trap. Without a moment's hesitation Allan followed his impulses as usual, and walked straight into it-writing his answer and pursuing his own reflections simultaneously, in a highly charac teristic state of mental confusion. "By Jupiter, this is kind of Mrs. Milroy!" ("My dear madam.") "Just the thing I want it was decided that the two should travel in the same carriage. Allan was glad to have a companion; and Pedgift, enchanted as usual to make himself useful to his client, bustled away to get the tickets and see to the luggage. Sauntering to and fro on the platform until his faithful follower returned, Allan came suddenly upon no less a person than Mr. Bashwood himselfstanding back in a corner with the guard of the train, and putting a letter (accompanied, to all appearance, by a fee) privately into the man's hand. "Hullo!" cried Allan, in his hearty way. eh ?" If Mr. Bashwood had been caught in the act of committing murder he could hardly have shown greater alarm than he now testified at Allan's sudden discovery of him. Snatching off his dingy old hat, he bowed bareheaded, in a palsy of nervous trembling from head to foot. "No, Sir-no, Sir; only a little letter, a little letter, a little letter," said the deputy-steward, taking refuge in reiteration, and bowing himself swiftly backward out of his employer's sight. ed, at the time when I needed it most!" ("I"Something important there, Mr. Bashwooddon't know how to express my sense of your kindness, except by saying that I will go to London and fetch the letters with the greatest pleasure.")" She shall have a basket of fruit regularly every day, all through the season." ("I will go at once, dear madam, and be back to-morrow.") "Ah, nothing like the women for helping one when one is in love! This is just what my poor mother would have done in Mrs. Milroy's place." ("On my word of honor as a gentleman, I will take the utmost care of the letters, and keep the thing strictly private, as you request.") "I would have given five hundred pounds to any body who would have put me up to the right way to speak to Miss Gwilt, and here is this blessed woman does it for nothing." ("Believe me, my dear madam, gratefully yours, Allan Armadale.") Having sent his reply out to Mrs. Milroy's messenger, Allan paused in a momentary perplexity. He had an appointment with Miss Gwilt. in the park for the next morning. It was absolutely necessary to let her know that he would be unable to keep it; she had forbidden him to write, and he had no chance that day of seeing her alone. In this difficulty he determined to let the necessary intimation reach her through the medium of a message to the major, announcing his departure for London on business, and asking if he could be of service to any member of the family. Having thus removed the only obstacle to his departure, Allan consulted the time-table, and found to his disappointment, that there was a good hour to spare before it would be necessary to drive to the railway-station. In his existing frame of mind he would infinitely have preferred starting for London in a violent hurry. When the time came at last, Allan, on passing the steward's office, drummed at the door, and called through it, to Mr. Bashwood, "I'm going to town-back to-morrow." There was no answer from within; and the servant interposing, informed his master that Mr. Bashwood, having no business to attend to that day, had locked up the office, and had left some hours since. On reaching the station the first person whom Allan encountered was Pedgift Junior, going to London on the legal business which he had Allan turned carelessly on his heel. "I wish I could take to that fellow," he thought-"but I can't; he's such a sneak! What the deuce was there to tremble about? Does he think I want to pry into his secrets?" Mr. Bashwood's secret on this occasion concerned Allan more nearly than Allan supposed. The letter which he had just placed in charge of the guard was nothing less than a word of warning addressed to Mrs. Oldershaw, and written by Miss Gwilt. The "If you can hurry your business" (wrote the major's governess) "do so, and come back to London immediately. Things are going wrong here, and Miss Milroy is at the bottom of the mischief. This morning she insisted on taking up her mother's breakfast, always on other occasions taken up by the nurse. They had a long confabulation in private; and half an hour later I saw the nurse slip out with a letter, and take. the path that leads to the great house. sending of the letter has been followed by young Armadale's sudden departure for London-in the face of an appointment which he had with me for to-morrow morning. This looks serious. The girl is evidently bold enough to make a fight of it for the position of Mrs. Armadale of Thorpe-Ambrose, and she has found out some way of getting her mother to help her. Don't suppose I am in the least nervous or discouraged; and don't do any thing till you hear from me again. Only get back to London, for I may have serious need of your assistance in the course of the next day or two. "I send this letter to town (to save a post) by the mid-day train, in charge of the guard. As you insist on knowing every step I take at Thorpe-Ambrose, I may as well tell you that my messenger (for I can't go to the station my self) is that curious old creature whom I men- | business over first and coming back to dinner? tioned to you in my first letter. Ever since Shall we say, in that case, half past seven? that time he has been perpetually hanging about here for a look at me. I am not sure whether I frighten him or fascinate him-perhaps I do both together. All you need care to know is, that I can trust him with my trifling errands, and possibly, as time goes on, with something more. L. G." Meanwhile the train had started from the Thorpe-Ambrose station, and the squire and his traveling companion were on their way to London. William, half past seven. Not the least need to order any thing, Mr. Armadale. The headwaiter has only to give my compliments to the cook and the best dinner in London will be sent up, punctual to the minute, as a necessary consequence. Say Mr. Pedgift, junior, if you please, William-otherwise, Sir, we might get my grandfather's dinner or my father's dinner, and they might turn out a little too heavy and old-fashioned in their way of feeding for you and me. As to the wine, William. At dinner, my Champagne, and the sherry that my father thinks nasty. After dinner, the claret with the blue seal- the wine my innocent Some men, finding themselves in Allan's company under present circumstances, might have felt curious to know the nature of his busi-grandfather said wasn't worth sixpence a bottle. ness in the metropolis. Young Pedgift's un- Ha! ha! poor old boy! You will send up the erring instinct as a man of the world penetrated evening papers and the play-bills, just as usual, the secret without the slightest difficulty. "The and—that will do, I think, William, for the old story," thought this wary old head, wagging present. An invaluable servant, Mr. Armaprivately on its lusty young shoulders. "There's dale; they're all invaluable servants in this a woman in the case, as usual. Any other busi- house. We may not be fashionable here, Sir, ness would have been turned over to me.' Per- but by the Lord Harry we are snug! A cab? fectly satisfied with this conclusion, Mr. Ped-you would like a cab? Don't stir! I've rung gift the younger proceeded, with an eye to his the bell twice-that means Cab wanted in a professional interest, to make himself as agreea- hurry. Might I ask, Mr. Armadale, which ble to his client as usual. He seized on the way your business takes you? Toward Bayswhole administrative business of the journey to Would you mind dropping me in the London as he had seized on the whole adminIt's a habit of mine when I'm in Lonistrative business of the picnic at the Broads.don to air myself among the aristocracy. Yours On reaching the terminus, Allan was ready to go to any hotel that might be recommended. His invaluable solicitor straightway drove him to a hotel at which the Pedgift family had been accustomed to put up for three generations. water? truly, Sir, has an eye for a fine woman and a fine horse; and when he's in Hyde Park he's quite in his native element." Thus the all-accomplished Pedgift ran on; and by these little arts did he recommend himself to the good opinion of his client. When the dinner-hour united the traveling companions again in their sitting-room at the hotel, a far less acute observer than young Pedgift must have noticed the marked change that appeared in Allan's manner. He looked vexed and puzzled, and sat drumming with his fingers on the dining-table without uttering a word. "I'm afraid something has happened to annoy you, Sir, since we parted company in the Park?" said Pedgift Junior. "Excuse the question-I only ask it in case I can be of any use." 66 "You don't object to vegetables, Sir?" said the cheerful Pedgift, as the cab stopped at a hotel in Covent Garden Market. "Very good, you may leave the rest to my grandfather, my father, and me. I don't know which of the three is most beloved and respected in this house. How-d'ye-do, William (our head-waiter, Mr. Armadale). Is your wife's rheumatism better, and does the little boy get on nicely at school? Your master's out, is he? Never mind, you'll do. This, William, is Mr. Armadale of Thorpe-Ambrose. I have prevailed on Mr. Armadale to try our house. Have you got the bedroom I wrote for? Very good. Let Something that I never expected has hapMr. Armadale have it instead of me (my grand-pened," returned Allan; "I don't know what father's favorite bedroom, Sir; number five, on to make of it. I should like to have your opinthe second-floor); pray take it—I can sleep any ion," he added, after a little hesitation; "that where. Will you have the mattress on the top is to say, if you will excuse my not entering of the feather-bed? You hear, William? Tell into any particulars?" Matilda, the mattress on the top of the featherbed. How is Matilda? Has she got the toothache as usual? The head-chambermaid, Mr. Armadale, and a most extraordinary woman; she will not part with a hollow tooth in her lower jaw. My grandfather says, 'have it out' "Well," began Allan, "you know what I -my father says, 'have it out'-I say, 'have it said when we got to this hotel; I said I had a out,' and Matilda turns a deaf ear to all three place to go to in Bayswater" (Pedgift mentally of us. Yes, William, yes; if Mr. Armadale checked off the first point-Case in the suburbs, approves, this sitting - room will do. About Bayswater); "and a person-that is to say-no dinner, Sir? You would prefer getting your -as I said before, a person to inquire after." "Certainly!" assented young Pedgift. "Sketch it in outline, Sir. The merest hint will do; I wasn't born yesterday. (Oh, these women!" thought the youthful philosopher, in parenthesis.) |