The Queen of Hearts

by Wilkie Collins

  CHAPTER VI.

  ON the third appearance of my mistress and myself before the justice,I noticed some faces in the room which I had not seen there before.Greatly to my astonishment--for the previous examinations had beenconducted as privately as possible--I remarked the presence of two ofthe servants from the Hall, and of three or four of the tenants on theDarrock estate, who lived nearest to the house. They all sat together onone side of the justice-room. Opposite to them and close at the side ofa door, stood my old acquaintance, Mr. Dark, with his big snuff-box, hisjolly face, and his winking eye. He nodded to me, when I looked at him,as jauntily as if we were meeting at a party of pleasure. The quadroonwoman, who had been summoned to the examination, had a chair placedopposite to the witness-box, and in a line with the seat occupied by mypoor mistress, whose looks, as I was grieved to see, were not alteredfor the better. The lawyer from London was with her, and I stood behindher chair.

  We were all quietly disposed in the room in this way, when the justice,Mr. Robert Nicholson, came in with his brother. It might have been onlyfancy, but I thought I could see in both their faces that somethingremarkable had happened since we had met at the last examination.

  The deposition of Josephine Durand was read over by the clerk, and shewas asked if she had anything to add to it. She replied in the negative.The justice then appealed to my mistress's relation, the lawyer, toknow if he could produce any evidence relating to the charge against hisclients.

  "I have evidence," answered the lawyer, getting briskly on his legs,"which I believe, sir, will justify me in asking for their discharge."

  "Where are your witnesses?" inquired the justice, looking hard atJosephine while he spoke.

  "One of them is in waiting, your worship," said Mr. Dark, opening thedoor near which he was standing.

  He went out of the room, remained away about a minute, and returned withhis witness at his heels.

  My heart gave a bound as if it would jump out of my body. There, withhis long hair cut short, and his bushy whiskers shaved off--there, inhis own proper person, safe and sound as ever, was Mr. James Smith!

  The quadroon's iron nature resisted the shock of his unexpected presenceon the scene with a steadiness that was nothing short of marvelous. Herthin lips closed together convulsively, and there was a slight movementin the muscles of her throat. But not a word, not a sign betrayed her.Even the yellow tinge of her complexion remained unchanged.

  "It is not necessary, sir, that I should waste time and words inreferring to the wicked and preposterous charge against my clients,"said the lawyer, addressing Mr. Robert Nicholson. "The one sufficientjustification for discharging them immediately is before you at thismoment in the person of that gentleman. There, sir, stands the murderedMr. James Smith, of Darrock Hall, alive and well, to answer forhimself."

  "That is not the man!" cried Josephine, her shrill voice just as high,clear, and steady as ever, "I denounce that man as an impostor. Of myown knowledge, I deny that he is Mr. James Smith."

  "No doubt you do," said the lawyer; "but we will prove his identity forall that."

  The first witness called was Mr. Philip Nicholson. He could swear thathe had seen Mr. James Smith, and spoken to him at least a dozen times.The person now before him was Mr. James Smith, altered as to personalappearance by having his hair cut short and his whiskers shaved off, butstill unmistakably the man he assumed to be.

  "Conspiracy!" interrupted the prisoner, hissing the word out viciouslybetween her teeth.

  "If you are not silent," said Mr. Robert Nicholson, "you will be removedfrom the room. It will sooner meet the ends of justice," he wenton, addressing the lawyer, "if you prove the question of identity bywitnesses who have been in habits of daily communication with Mr. JamesSmith."

  Upon this, one of the servants from the Hall was placed in the box.

  The alteration in his master's appearance evidently puzzled the man.Besides the perplexing change already adverted to, there was also achange in Mr. James Smith's expression and manner. Rascal as he was, Imust do him the justice to say that he looked startled and ashamed whenhe first caught sight of his unfortunate wife. The servant, who was usedto be eyed tyrannically by him, and ordered about roughly, seeing himnow for the first time abashed and silent, stammered and hesitated onbeing asked to swear to his identity.

  "I can hardly say for certain, sir," said the man, addressing thejustice in a bewildered manner. "He is like my master, and yet he isn't.If he wore whiskers and had his hair long, and if he was, saving yourpresence, sir, a little more rough and ready in his way, I could swearto him anywhere with a safe conscience."

  Fortunately for us, at this moment Mr. James Smith's feeling ofuneasiness at the situation in which he was placed changed to a feelingof irritation at being coolly surveyed and then stupidly doubted in thematter of his identity by one of his own servants.

  "Can't you say in plain words, you idiot, whether you know me or whetheryou don't?" he called out, angrily.

  "That's his voice!" cried the servant, starting in the box. "Whiskers orno whiskers, that's him!"

  "If there's any difficulty, your worship, about the gentleman's hair,"said Mr. Dark, coming forward with a grin, "here's a small parcel which,I may make so bold as to say, will remove it." Saying that, he openedthe parcel, took some locks of hair out of it, and held them up close toMr. James Smith's head. "A pretty good match, your worship," continuedMr. Dark. "I have no doubt the gentleman's head feels cooler now it'soff. We can't put the whiskers on, I'm afraid, but they match the hair;and they are in the paper (if one may say such a thing of whiskers) tospeak for themselves."

  "Lies! lies! lies!" screamed Josephine, losing her wicked self-controlat this stage of the proceedings.

  The justice made a sign to two of the constables present as she burstout with those exclamations, and the men removed her to an adjoiningroom.

  The second servant from the Hall was then put in the box, and wasfollowed by one of the tenants. After what they had heard and seen,neither of these men had any hesitation in swearing positively to theirmaster's identity.

  "It is quite unnecessary," said the justice, as soon as the box wasempty again, "to examine any more witnesses as to the question ofidentity. All the legal formalities are accomplished, and the chargeagainst the prisoners falls to the ground. I have great pleasure inordering the immediate discharge of both the accused persons, andin declaring from this place that they leave the court without theslightest stain on their characters."

  He bowed low to my mistress as he said that, paused a moment, and thenlooked inquiringly at Mr. James Smith.

  "I have hitherto abstained from making any remark unconnected with theimmediate matter in hand," he went on. "But, now that my duty is done,I cannot leave this chair without expressing my strong sense ofdisapprobation of the conduct of Mr. James Smith--conduct which,whatever may be the motives that occasioned it, has given a false colorof probability to a most horrible charge against a lady of unspottedreputation, and against a person in a lower rank of life whose goodcharacter ought not to have been imperiled even for a moment. Mr. Smithmay or may not choose to explain his mysterious disappearance fromDarrock Hall, and the equally unaccountable change which he has chosento make in his personal appearance. There is no legal charge againsthim; but, speaking morally, I should be unworthy of the place I hold ifI hesitated to declare my present conviction that his conduct has beendeceitful, inconsiderate, and unfeeling in the highest degree."

  To this sharp reprimand Mr. James Smith (evidently tutored beforehand asto what he was to say) replied that, in attending before the justice, hewished to perform a plain duty and to keep himself strictly within theletter of the law. He apprehended that the only legal obligation laidon him was to attend in that court to declare himself, and to enablecompetent witnesses to prove his identity. This duty accomplished, hehad merely to add that he preferred submitting to a reprimand from thebench to entering into explanations which would involve the disclosureof domestic circums
tances of a very unhappy nature. After that briefreply he had nothing further to say, and he would respectfully requestthe justice's permission to withdraw.

  The permission was accorded. As he crossed the room he stopped near hiswife, and said, confusedly, in a very low tone:

  "I have done you many injuries, but I never intended this. I am sorryfor it. Have you anything to say to me before I go?"

  My mistress shuddered and hid her face. He waited a moment, and, findingthat she did not answer him, bowed his head politely and went out. I didnot know it then, but I had seen him for the last time.

  After he had gone, the lawyer, addressing Mr. Robert Nicholson, saidthat he had an application to make in reference to the woman JosephineDurand.

  At the mention of that name my mistress hurriedly whispered a few wordsinto her relation's ear. He looked toward Mr. Philip Nicholson, whoimmediately advanced, offered his arm to my mistress, and led her out.I was about to follow, when Mr. Dark stopped me, and begged that Iwould wait a few minutes longer, in order to give myself the pleasure ofseeing "the end of the case."

  In the meantime, the justice had pronounced the necessary order to havethe quadroon brought back. She came in, as bold and confident as ever.Mr. Robert Nicholson looked away from her in disgust and said to thelawyer:

  "Your application is to have her committed for perjury, of course?"

  "For perjury?" said Josephine, with her wicked smile. "Very good. Ishall explain some little matters that I have not explained before. Youthink I am quite at your mercy now? Bah! I shall make myself a thorn inyour sides yet."

  "She has got scent of the second marriage," whispered Mr. Dark to me.

  There could be no doubt of it. She had evidently been listening at thedoor on the night when my master came back longer than I had supposed.She must have heard those words about "the new wife"--she might evenhave seen the effect of them on Mr. James Smith.

  "We do not at present propose to charge Josephine Durand with perjury,"said the lawyer, "but with another offense, for which it is important totry her immediately, in order to effect the restoration of property thathas been stolen. I charge her with stealing from her mistress, whilein her service at Darrock Hall, a pair of bracelets, three rings, and adozen and a half of lace pocket-handkerchiefs. The articles in questionwere taken this morning from between the mattresses of her bed; and aletter was found in the same place which clearly proves that she hadrepresented the property as belonging to herself, and that she had triedto dispose of it to a purchaser in London." While he was speaking, Mr.Dark produced the jewelry, the handkerchiefs and the letter, and laidthem before the justice.

  Even Josephine's extraordinary powers of self-control now gave way atlast. At the first words of the unexpected charge against her she struckher hands together violently, gnashed her sharp white teeth, and burstout with a torrent of fierce-sounding words in some foreign language,the meaning of which I did not understand then and cannot explain now.

  "I think that's checkmate for marmzelle," whispered Mr. Dark, with hisinvariable wink. "Suppose you go back to the Hall, now, William, anddraw a jug of that very remarkable old ale of yours? I'll be after youin five minutes, as soon as the charge is made out."

  I could hardly realize it when I found myself walking back to Darrock afree man again.

  In a quarter of an hour's time Mr. Dark joined me, and drank to myhealth, happiness and prosperity in three separate tumblers. Afterperforming this ceremony, he wagged his head and chuckled with anappearance of such excessive enjoyment that I could not avoid remarkingon his high spirits.

  "It's the case, William--it's the beautiful neatness of the case thatquite intoxicates me. Oh, Lord, what a happiness it is to be concernedin such a job as this!" cries Mr. Dark, slapping his stumpy hands on hisfat knees in a sort of ecstasy.

  I had a very different opinion of the case for my own part, but I didnot venture on expressing it. I was too anxious to know how Mr. JamesSmith had been discovered and produced at the examination to enterinto any arguments. Mr. Dark guessed what was passing in my mind, and,telling me to sit down and make myself comfortable, volunteered of hisown accord to inform me of all that I wanted to know.

  "When I got my instructions and my statement of particulars," he began,"I was not at all surprised to hear that Mr. James Smith had come back.(I prophesied that, if you remember, William, the last time we met?)But I was a good deal astonished, nevertheless, at the turn thingshad taken, and I can't say I felt very hopeful about finding our man.However, I followed my master's directions, and put the advertisementin the papers. It addressed Mr. James Smith by name, but it was verycarefully worded as to what was wanted of him. Two days after itappeared, a letter came to our office in a woman's handwriting. It wasmy business to open the letters, and I opened that. The writer was shortand mysterious. She requested that somebody would call from our officeat a certain address, between the hours of two and four that afternoon,in reference to the advertisement which we had inserted in thenewspapers. Of course, I was the somebody who went. I kept myself frombuilding up hopes by the way, knowing what a lot of Mr. James Smithsthere were in London. On getting to the house, I was shown into thedrawing-room, and there, dressed in a wrapper and lying on a sofa, wasan uncommonly pretty woman, who looked as if she was just recoveringfrom an illness. She had a newspaper by her side, and came to the pointat once: 'My husband's name is James Smith,' she says, 'and I have myreasons for wanting to know if he is the person you are in search of.'I described our man as Mr. James Smith, of Darrock Hall, Cumberland. 'Iknow no such person,' says she--"

  "What! was it not the second wife, after all?" I broke out.

  "Wait a bit," says Mr. Dark. "I mentioned the name of the yacht next,and she started up on the sofa as if she had been shot. 'I think youwere married in Scotland, ma'am,' says I. She turns as pale as ashes,and drops back on the sofa, and says, faintly: 'It is my husband. Oh,sir, what has happened? What do you want with him? Is he in debt?' Itook a minute to think, and then made up my mind to tell her everything,feeling that she would keep her husband (as she called him) out of theway if I frightened her by any mysteries. A nice job I had, William,as you may suppose, when she knew about the bigamy business. Whatwith screaming, fainting, crying, and blowing me up (as if _I_ was toblame!), she kept me by that sofa of hers the best part of an hour--keptme there, in short, till Mr. James Smith himself came back. I leave youto judge if that mended matters. He found me mopping the poor woman'stemples with scent and water; and he would have pitched me out of thewindow, as sure as I sit here, if I had not met him and staggered him atonce with the charge of murder against his wife. That stopped him whenhe was in full cry, I can promise you. 'Go and wait in the next room,'says he, 'and I'll come in and speak to you directly.'"

  "And did you go?" I asked.

  "Of course I did," said Mr. Dark. "I knew he couldn't get out by thedrawing-room windows, and I knew I could watch the door; so away I went,leaving him alone with the lady, who didn't spare him by any manner ofmeans, as I could easily hear in the next room. However, all rows inthis world come to an end sooner or later, and a man with any brains inhis head may do what he pleases with a woman who is fond of him. Beforelong I heard her crying and kissing him. 'I can't go home,' she says,after this. 'You have behaved like a villain and a monster to me--butoh, Jemmy, I can't give you up to anybody! Don't go back to your wife!Oh, don't, don't go back to your wife!' 'No fear of that,' says he. 'Mywife wouldn't have me if I did go back to her.' After that I heard thedoor open, and went out to meet him on the landing. He began swearingthe moment he saw me, as if that was any good. 'Business first, ifyou please, sir,' says I, 'and any pleasure you like, in the way ofswearing, afterward.' With that beginning, I mentioned our terms to him,and asked the pleasure of his company to Cumberland in return, he wasuncommonly suspicious at first, but I promised to draw out a legaldocument (mere waste paper, of no earthly use except to pacify him),engaging to hold him harmless throughout the proceedings; and whatwith that, an
d telling him of the frightful danger his wife was in, Imanaged, at last, to carry my point."

  "But did the second wife make no objection to his going away with you?"I inquired.

  "Not she," said Mr. Dark. "I stated the case to her just as it stood,and soon satisfied her that there was no danger of Mr. James Smith'sfirst wife laying any claim to him. After hearing that, she joined mein persuading him to do his duty, and said she pitied your mistress fromthe bottom of her heart. With her influence to back me, I had no greatfear of our man changing his mind. I had the door watched that night,however, so as to make quite sure of him. The next morning he was readyto time when I called, and a quarter of an hour after that we were offtogether for the north road. We made the journey with post-horses, beingafraid of chance passengers, you know, in public conveyances. On the waydown, Mr. James Smith and I got on as comfortably together as if we hadbeen a pair of old friends. I told the story of our tracing him to thenorth of Scotland, and he gave me the particulars, in return, of hisbolting from Darrock Hall. They are rather amusing, William; would youlike to hear them?"

  I told Mr. Dark that he had anticipated the very question I was about toask him.

  "Well," he said, "this is how it was: To begin at the beginning, our manreally took Mrs. Smith, Number Two, to the Mediterranean, as we heard.He sailed up the Spanish coast, and, after short trips ashore, stoppedat a seaside place in France called Cannes. There he saw a house andgrounds to be sold which took his fancy as a nice retired place to keepNumber Two in. Nothing particular was wanted but the money to buy it;and, not having the little amount in his own possession, Mr. James Smithmakes a virtue of necessity, and goes back overland to his wife withprivate designs on her purse-strings. Number Two, who objects to be leftbehind, goes with him as far as London. There he trumps up the firststory that comes into his head about rents in the country, and a housein Lincolnshire that is too damp for her to trust herself in; and so,leaving her for a few days in London, starts boldly for Darrock Hall.His notion was to wheedle your mistress out of the money by goodbehavior; but it seems he started badly by quarreling with her about afiddle-playing parson--"

  "Yes, yes, I know all about that part of the story," I broke in, seeingby Mr. Dark's manner that he was likely to speak both ignorantly andimpertinently of my mistress's unlucky friend ship for Mr. Meeke. "Goon to the time when I left my master alone in the Red Room, and tell mewhat he did between midnight and nine the next morning."

  "Did?" said Mr. Dark. "Why, he went to bed with the unpleasantconviction on his mind that your mistress had found him out, and with nocomfort to speak of except what he could get out of the brandy bottle.He couldn't sleep; and the more he tossed and tumbled, the more certainhe felt that his wife intended to have him tried for bigamy. At last,toward the gray of the morning, he could stand it no longer, and he madeup his mind to give the law the slip while he had the chance. As soon ashe was dressed, it struck him that there might be a reward offeredfor catching him, and he determined to make that slight change in hispersonal appearance which puzzled the witnesses so much before themagistrate to-day. So he opens his dressing-case and crops his hair inno time, and takes off his whiskers next. The fire was out, and he hadto shave in cold water. What with that, and what with the flurry of hismind, naturally enough he cut himself--"

  "And dried the blood with his nightgown?" says I.

  "With his nightgown," repeated Mr. Dark. "It was the first thing thatlay handy, and he snatched it up. Wait a bit, though; the cream of thething is to come. When he had done being his own barber, he couldn't forthe life of him hit on a way of getting rid of the loose hair. The firewas out, and he had no matches; so he couldn't burn it. As for throwingit away, he didn't dare do that in the house or about the house, forfear of its being found, and betraying what he had done. So he wraps itall up in paper, crams it into his pocket to be disposed of when he isat a safe distance from the Hall, takes his bag, gets out at the window,shuts it softly after him, and makes for the road as fast as his longlegs will carry him. There he walks on till a coach overtakes him, andso travels back to London to find himself in a fresh scrape as soon ashe gets there. An interesting situation, William, and hard travelingfrom one end of France to the other, had not agreed together in the caseof Number Two. Mr. James Smith found her in bed, with doctor's ordersthat she was not to be moved. There was nothing for it after that butto lie by in London till the lady got better. Luckily for us, she didn'thurry herself; so that, after all, your mistress has to thank the verywoman who supplanted her for clearing her character by helping us tofind Mr. James Smith."

  "And, pray, how did you come by that loose hair of his which you showedbefore the justice to-day?" I asked.

  "Thank Number Two again," says Mr. Dark. "I was put up to asking afterit by what she told me. While we were talking about the advertisement, Imade so bold as to inquire what first set her thinking that her husbandand the Mr. James Smith whom we wanted might be one and the same man.'Nothing,' says she, 'but seeing him come home with his hair cut shortand his whiskers shaved off, and finding that he could not give me anygood reason for disfiguring himself in that way. I had my suspicionsthat something was wrong, and the sight of your advertisementstrengthened them directly.' The hearing her say that suggested tomy mind that there might be a difficulty in identifying him after thechange in his looks, and I asked him what he had done with the loosehair before we left London. It was found in the pocket of his travelingcoat just as he had huddled it up there on leaving the Hall, worry,and fright, and vexation, having caused him to forget all about it. Ofcourse I took charge of the parcel, and you know what good it did aswell as I do. So to speak, William, it just completed this beautifullyneat case. Looking at the matter in a professional point of view, Idon't hesitate to say that we have managed our business with Mr. JamesSmith to perfection. We have produced him at the right time, and we aregoing to get rid of him at the right time. By to-night he will be onhis way to foreign parts with Number Two, and he won't show his nose inEngland again if he lives to the age of Methuselah."

  It was a relief to hear that and it was almost as great a comfort tofind, from what Mr. Dark said next, that my mistress need fear nothingthat Josephine could do for the future.

  The charge of theft, on which she was about to be tried, did not affordthe shadow of an excuse in law any more than in logic for alluding tothe crime which her master had committed. If she meant to talk about itshe might do so in her place of transportation, but she would not havethe slightest chance of being listened to previously in a court of law.

  "In short," said Mr. Dark, rising to take his leave, "as I have told youalready, William, it's checkmate for marmzelle. She didn't manage thebusiness of the robbery half as sharply as I should have expected. Shecertainly began well enough by staying modestly at a lodging in thevillage to give her attendance at the examinations, as it might berequired; nothing could look more innocent and respectable so far; buther hiding the property between the mattresses of her bed--the veryfirst place that any experienced man would think of looking in--was suchan amazingly stupid thing to do, that I really can't account for it,unless her mind had more weighing on it than it was able to bear, which,considering the heavy stakes she played for, is likely enough. Anyhow,her hands are tied now, and her tongue too, for the matter of that. Givemy respects to your mistress, and tell her that her runaway husband andher lying maid will never either of them harm her again as long as theylive. She has nothing to do now but to pluck up her spirits and livehappy. Here's long life to her and to you, William, in the last glass ofale; and here's the same toast to myself in the bottom of the jug."

  With those words Mr. Dark pocketed his large snuff-box, gave a last winkwith his bright eye, and walked rapidly away, whistling, to catch theLondon coach. From that time to this he and I have never met again.

  A few last words relating to my mistress and to the other personschiefly concerned in this narrative will conclude all that it is nownecessary for me to say.

 
; For some months the relatives and friends, and I myself, felt sadmisgivings on my poor mistress's account. We doubted if it was possible,with such a quick, sensitive nature as hers, that she could support theshock which had been inflicted on her. But our powers of endurance are,as I have learned to believe, more often equal to the burdens laid uponus than we are apt to imagine. I have seen many surprising recoveriesfrom illness after all hope had been lost, and I have lived to see mymistress recover from the grief and terror which we once thought wouldprove fatal to her. It was long before she began to hold up her headagain; but care and kindness, and time and change wrought their effecton her at last. She is not now, and never will be again, the woman shewas once; her manner is altered, and she looks older by many a year thanshe really is. But her health causes us no anxiety now; her spirits arecalm and equal, and I have good hope that many quiet years of service inher house are left for me still. I myself have married during the longinterval of time which I am now passing over in a few words. This changein my life is, perhaps, not worth mentioning, but I am reminded of mytwo little children when I speak of my mistress in her present position.I really think they make the great happiness, and interest, andamusement of her life, and prevent her from feeling lonely and driedup at heart. It is a pleasant reflection to me to remember this, andperhaps it may be the same to you, for which reason only I speak of it.

  As for the other persons connected with the troubles at Darrock Hall,I may mention the vile woman Josephine first, so as to have the soonerdone with her. Mr. Dark's guess, when he tried to account for her wantof cunning in hiding the stolen property, by saying that her mind mighthave had more weighing on it than she was able to bear, turned out to benothing less than the plain and awful truth. After she had beenfound guilty of the robbery, and had been condemned to seven years'transportation, a worse sentence fell upon her from a higher tribunalthan any in this world. While she was still in the county jail, previousto her removal, her mind gave way, the madness breaking out in anattempt to set fire to the prison. Her case was pronounced to behopeless from the first. The lawful asylum received her, and the lawfulasylum will keep her to the end of her days.

  Mr. James Smith, who, in my humble opinion, deserved hanging by law, ordrowning by accident at least, lived quietly abroad with his Scotchwife (or no wife) for two years, and then died in the most quietand customary manner, in his bed, after a short illness. His end wasdescribed to me as a "highly edifying one." But as he was also reportedto have sent his forgiveness to his wife--which was as much as to saythat _he_ was the injured person of the two--I take leave to considerthat he was the same impudent vagabond in his last moments that hehad been all his life. His Scotch widow has married again, and is nowsettled in London. I hope her husband is all her own property this time.

  Mr. Meeke must not be forgotten, although he has dropped out of thelatter part of my story because he had nothing to do with the seriousevents which followed Josephine's perjury. In the confusion andwretchedness of that time, he was treated with very little ceremony, andwas quite passed over when we left the neighborhood. After pining andfretting some time, as we afterward heard, in his lonely parsonage,he resigned his living at the first chance he got, and took a sort ofunder-chaplain's place in an English chapel abroad. He writes to mymistress once or twice a year to ask after her health and well-being,and she writes back to him. That is all the communication they are everlikely to have with each other. The music they once played together willnever sound again. Its last notes have long since faded away and thelast words of this story, trembling on the lips of the teller, may nowfade with them.

  THE NINTH DAY.

  A LITTLE change in the weather. The rain still continues, but the windis not quite so high. Have I any reason to believe, because it is calmeron land, that it is also calmer at sea? Perhaps not. But my mind isscarcely so uneasy to-day, nevertheless.

  I had looked over the newspaper with the usual result, and had laid itdown with the customary sense of disappointment, when Jessie handed me aletter which she had received that morning. It was written by her aunt,and it upbraided her in the highly exaggerated terms which ladies loveto employ, where any tender interests of their own are concerned, forher long silence and her long absence from home. Home! I thought of mypoor boy and of the one hope on which all his happiness rested, and Ifelt jealous of the word when I saw it used persuasively in a letter toour guest. What right had any one to mention "home" to her until Georgehad spoken first?

  "I must answer it by return of post," said Jessie, with a tone of sorrowin her voice for which my heart warmed to her. "You have been very kindto me; you have taken more pains to interest and amuse me than I amworth. I can laugh about most things, but I can't laugh about goingaway. I am honestly and sincerely too grateful for that."

  She paused, came round to where I was sitting, perched herself on theend of the table, and, resting her hands on my shoulders, added gently:

  "It must be the day after to-morrow, must it not?"

  I could not trust myself to answer. If I had spoken, I should havebetrayed George's secret in spite of myself.

  "To-morrow is the tenth day," she went on, softly. "It looks so selfishand so ungrateful to go the moment I have heard the last of the stories,that I am quite distressed at being obliged to enter on the subject atall. And yet, what choice is left me? what can I do when my aunt writesto me in that way?"

  She took up the letter again, and looked at it so ruefully that I drewher head a little nearer to me, and gratefully kissed the smooth whiteforehead.

  "If your aunt is only half as anxious to see you again, my love, as Iam to see my son, I must forgive her for taking you away from us." Thewords came from me without premeditation. It was not calculation thistime, but sheer instinct that impelled me to test her in this way, oncemore, by a direct reference to George. She was so close to me that Ifelt her breath quiver on my cheek. Her eyes had been fixed on my face amoment before, but they now wandered away from it constrainedly. One ofher hands trembled a little on my shoulder, and she took it off.

  "Thank you for trying to make our parting easier to me," she said,quickly, and in a lower tone than she had spoken in yet. I made noanswer, but still looked her anxiously in the face. For a few secondsher nimble delicate fingers nervously folded and refolded the letterfrom her aunt, then she abruptly changed her position.

  "The sooner I write, the sooner it will be over," she said, andhurriedly turned away to the paper-case on the side-table.

  How was the change in her manner to be rightly interpreted? Was she hurtby what I had said, or was she secretly so much affected by it, in theimpressionable state of her mind at that moment, as to be incapable ofexerting a young girl's customary self-control? Her looks, actions, andlanguage might bear either interpretation. One striking omission hadmarked her conduct when I had referred to George's return. She had notinquired when I expected him back. Was this indifference? Surely not.Surely indifference would have led her to ask the conventionally civilquestion which ninety-nine persons out of a hundred would have addressedto me as a matter of course. Was she, on her side, afraid to trustherself to speak of George at a time when an unusual tenderness wasaroused in her by the near prospect of saying farewell? It mightbe--it might not be--it might be. My feeble reason took the side of myinclination; and, after vibrating between Yes and No, I stopped where Ihad begun--at Yes.

  She finished the letter in a few minutes, and dropped it into thepost-bag the moment it was done.

  "Not a word more," she said, returning to me with a sigh of relief--"nota word about my aunt or my going away till the time comes. We have twomore days; let us make the most of them."

  Two more days! Eight-and-forty hours still to pass; sixty minutes ineach of those hours; and every minute long enough to bring with itan event fatal to George's future! The bare thought kept my mind in afever. For the remainder of the day I was as desultory and as restlessas our Queen of Hearts herself. Owen affectionately did his best toquiet me, but in v
ain. Even Morgan, who whiled away the time by smokingincessantly, was struck by the wretched spectacle of nervous anxietythat I presented to him, and pitied me openly for being unable tocompose myself with a pipe. Wearily and uselessly the hours wore on tillthe sun set. The clouds in the western heaven wore wild and torturedshapes when I looked out at them; and, as the gathering darkness fell onus, the fatal fearful wind rose once more.

  When we assembled at eight, the drawing of the lots had no longer anyinterest or suspense, so far as I was concerned. I had read my laststory, and it now only remained for chance to decide the question ofprecedency between Owen and Morgan. Of the two numbers left in the bowl,the one drawn was Nine. This made it Morgan's turn to read, and left itappropriately to Owen, as our eldest brother, to close the proceedingson the next night.

  Morgan looked round the table when he had spread out his manuscript, andseemed half inclined to open fire, as usual, with a little preliminarysarcasm; but his eyes met mine; he saw the anxiety I was suffering; andhis natural kindness, perversely as he might strive to hide it, got thebetter of him. He looked down on his paper; growled out briefly, "Noneed for a preface; my little bit of writing explains itself; let's goon and have done with it," and so began to read without another wordfrom himself or from any of us.

  BROTHER MORGAN'S STORY of FAUNTLEROY.