The Firm of Girdlestone

by Arthur Conan Doyle

  CHAPTER XLIX.

  A VOYAGE IN A COFFIN SHIP.

  The early part of the voyage of the _Black Eagle_ was extremelyfortunate. The wind came round to the eastward, and wafted themsteadily down Channel, until on the third day they saw the Isle ofUshant lying low upon the sky-line. No inquisitive gunboat or lurkingpolice launch came within sight of them, though whenever any vessel'scourse brought her in their direction the heart of Ezra Girdlestone sankwithin him. On one occasion a small brig signalled to them, and thewretched fugitives, when they saw the flags run up, thought that all waslost. It proved, however, to be merely some trivial message, and thetwo owners breathed again.

  The wind fell away on the day that they cleared the Channel, and thewhole surface of the sea was like a great expanse of quicksilver, whichshimmered in the rays of the wintry sun. There was still a considerableswell after the recent gale, and the _Black Eagle_ lay rolling about asthough she had learned habits of inebriation from her skipper. The skywas very clear above, but all round the horizon a low haze lay upon thewater. So silent was it that the creaking of the boats as they swungat the davits, and the straining of the shrouds as the ship rolled,sounded loud and clear, as did the raucous cries of a couple of gullswhich hovered round the poop. Every now and then a rumbling noiseending in a thud down below showed that the swing of the ship had causedsomething to come down with a run. Underlying all other sounds,however, was a muffled clank, clank, which might almost make one forgetthat this was a sailing ship, it sounded so like the chipping of apropeller.

  "What is that noise, Captain Miggs?" asked John Girdlestone as he stoodleaning over the quarter rail, while the old sea-dog, sextant in hand,was taking his midday observations. The captain had been on his goodbehaviour since the unexpected advent of his employers, and he was nowin a wonderful and unprecedented state of sobriety.

  "Them's the pumps a-goin'," Miggs answered, packing his sextant away inits case.

  "The pumps! I thought they were only used when a ship was in danger?"

  Ezra came along the deck at this moment, and listened with interest tothe conversation.

  "This ship is in danger," Miggs remarked calmly.

  "In danger!" cried Ezra, looking round the clear sky and placid sea."Where is the danger? I did not think you were such an old woman,Miggs."

  "We will see about that," the seaman answered angrily. "If a ship's gotno bottom in her she's bound to be in danger, be the weather fair orfoul."

  "Do you mean to tell me this ship has no bottom?"

  "I mean to tell you that there are places where you could put yourfingers through her seams. It's only the pumpin' that keeps herafloat."

  "This is a pretty state of things," said Girdlestone. "How is it that Ihave not been informed of it before! It is most dangerous."

  "Informed!" cried Miggs. "Informed of it! Has there been a v'yage yetthat I haven't come to ye, Muster Girdlestone, and told ye I wassurprised ever to find myself back in Lunnon? A year agone I told yehow this ship was, and ye laughed at me, ye did. It's only when ye findyourselves on her in the middle o' the broad sea that ye understan' whatit is that sailor folk have to put up wi'."

  Girdlestone was about to make some angry reply to this address, but hisson put his hand on his arm to restrain him. It would never do toquarrel with Hamilton Miggs before they reached their port of refuge.They were too completely in his power.

  "What the captain says has a great deal of truth in it," he remarked,with a laugh. "You don't realize a thing until you've had to experienceit. The _Black Eagle_ shall certainly have an overhauling next time,and we'll see if we can't give her captain an increase at the sametime."

  Miggs gave a grunt which, might be taken as expressing thanks or assignifying doubt. Perhaps there was a mixture of both in his mind.

  "I presume," Girdlestone said, in a conciliatory voice, "that therewould be no real danger as long as the weather was fine?"

  "It won't be fine long," the captain answered gruffly. "The glass waswell under thirty when I come up, and it is fallin' fast. I've beenabout here before at this time o' year in a calm, with a ground swelland a sinkin' glass. No good ever came of it. Look there at thenorrard. What d'ye make o' that, Sandy?"

  "In conjunction wi' the descending glass, it has an ominous appairance,"the Scotchman answered, with much stress on the first syllable of theadjective.

  The phenomenon which had attracted their professional attention did notappear to either of the Girdlestones to be a very important one.The haze on the horizon to the north was rather thicker than elsewhere,and a few thin streaky clouds straggled upwards across the clear coldheaven, like the feelers of some giant octopus which lay behind the fogbank. At the same time the sea changed in places from the appearance ofquicksilver to that of grained glass.

  "There's the wind," Miggs said confidently. "I'd furl the top-gallantsails and get her stay-sails down, Mr. McPherson." Whenever he gave anorder he was careful to give the mate his full title, though at othertimes he called him indiscriminately Sandy or Mac.

  The mate gave the necessary commands, while Miggs dived down into thecabin. He came up again looking even graver than when he left the deck.

  "The glass is nearly down to twenty-eight," he said. "I never seed itas low since I've been at sea. Take in the mains'l, Mr. McPherson, andhave the topsails reefed down!"

  "Ay, ay, sir."

  There was no lack of noise now as the men hauled at the halliards withtheir shrill strange cries, which sounded like the piping of innumerablesea-birds. Half a dozen lay out on the yard above, tucking away thegreat sail and making all snug.

  "Take a reef in the fores'l!" the mate roared, "and look alive aboutit!"

  "Hurry up, ye swabs!" Miggs bellowed. "You'll be blown away, everymother's son of ye, if you don't stir yourselves!"

  Even the two landsmen could see now that the danger was no imaginaryone, and that a storm was about to burst over them. The long blacklines of vapour had lengthened and coalesced, until now the wholenorthern heaven was one great rolling black cloud, with an angry, raggedfringe which bespoke the violence of the wind that drove it. Here andthere against the deep black background a small whitish orsulphur-coloured wreath stood clearly out, looking livid and dangerous.The whole great mass was sweeping onwards with prodigious and majesticrapidity, darkening the ocean beneath it, and emitting a dull, moaning,muttering sound, which was indescribably menacing and mournful.

  "This may be the same gale as was on some days ago," Miggs remarked."They travel in circles very often, and come back to where they startfrom."

  "We are all snug aloft, but this ship won't stand much knocking about,an' that's a fact," observed the mate gloomily.

  It was blowing now in short frequent puffs, which ruffled the surface ofthe water, and caused the _Black Eagle_ to surge slowly forward over therollers. A few drops of rain came pattering down upon the deck.The great bank of cloud was above the ship, still hurrying wildly acrossthe heavens.

  "Look out!" cried an old quartermaster. "Here she comes!"

  As he spoke the storm burst with a shriek, as though all the demons ofthe air had been suddenly unchained and were rejoicing in their freedom.The force of the blast was so great that Girdlestone could almost havebelieved that he had been struck by some solid object. The barqueheeled over until her lee rail touched the water, and lay so for aminute or more in a smother of foam. Her deck was at such an angle thatit seemed as though she never could right herself. Gradually, however,she rose a little, staggered and trembled like a living thing, and thenplunged away through the storm, as a piece of paper is whirled beforethe wind.

  By evening the gale was at its height. The _Black Eagle_ was runningunder maintopsail and foretopmast staysail. The sea had risen veryquickly, as it will when wind comes upon a swell. As far as the eyecould see from the summit of a wave there was a vista of dark toweringridges with their threatening crests of foam. When the barque sank inthe hollow these gleami
ng summits rose as high as her mainyard, and thetwo fugitives, clinging to the weather-shrouds, looked up in terror andamazement at the masses of water which hung above them. Once or twicewaves actually broke over the vessel, crashing and roaring down thedeck, and washing hither and thither until gradually absorbed betweenthe planks or drained away through the scupper-holes. On each of theseoccasions the poor rotten vessel would lurch and shiver in every plank,as if with a foreknowledge of her fate.

  It was a dreary night for all on board. As long as there was light theycould at least see what danger was to be faced, but now the barque wasplunging and tossing through an inky obscurity. With a wild scoopingmotion she was hurled up on the summit of a great wave, and thence sheshot down into the black gulf beyond with such force that when checkedby meeting the next billow her whole fabric jarred from truck tokeelson. There were two seamen at the wheel and two at the relievingtackles, yet it was all that they could do among the wild commotion tokeep her steady.

  No one thought of going below. It was better to see and know the worstthan to be shut up in a coffin where one could not stretch out a hand tohelp one's self. Once Captain Hamilton Miggs clawed his way along therail to where the Girdlestones were standing.

  "Look there!" he roared, pointing to windward.

  It was difficult to turn one's face straight to the wild rush of windand spray and hail. Shading their eyes, they peered into the storm.Right in the heart of it, and apparently not more than a couple ofhundred yards from the barque, was a lurid glare of ruddy light, risingand falling with the sea, but advancing rapidly through it. There was abright central glowing spot, with smaller lights glimmering above andbeside it. The effect of the single glare of light against the inkydarkness of the sea and sky would have made a study for a Turner.

  "What's that?"

  "It's a steamer," the captain shouted. It was only by great exertionsthat he could make himself audible above the shrieking of the wind andthe dash of the waves.

  "What do you think of it all?" Ezra asked.

  "Very bad," Miggs answered. "Couldn't be worse;" and with that heclawed his way aft again, grasping every stanchion or shroud on his way,like a parroquet in a cage.

  The clouds above broke somewhat towards morning, but there was no signof abatement in the tempest. Here and there through the rifts theglimmer of the stars might be seen, and once the pale moon gleamedthrough the storm wreath. The dawn broke cheerless and dreary,disclosing the great turmoil of endless slate-coloured waves and thesolitary little barque, with her rag of canvas, like a broken-wingedseabird, staggering to the south.

  Even the Girdlestones had noticed that, whereas towards the commencementof the storm it had been a rare occurrence for a wave to break over theship, the decks were now continually knee-deep in water, and there was aconstant splashing and crashing as the seas curled over the weatherbulwark. Miggs had already observed it, and conferred gravely with hismate on the point.

  "I don't like the looks of her, Mac," he shouted. "She don't rise tothem."

  "She's near water-logged, I'm thinkin'," the mate responded gravely.

  He knew the danger, and his thoughts were wandering away to a littleslate-tiled cottage near Peterhead. It is true that there was not muchin it save a wife, who was said to give Sandy the rough side of hertongue, and occasionally something rougher still. Affection is acapricious emotion, however, and will cling to the most unlikelyobjects; so the big Scotchman's eyes were damp with something elsebeside the sea spray as he realized that he might never look uponcottage or occupant again.

  "No wonder," said Miggs, "when she's takin' in water above and belowtoo. The men are weary wi' pumpin', and it still gains."

  "I doot it's our last v'yage thgither," the mate remarked, his Scottishaccent waxing broader under the influence of emotion.

  "What d'ye say to heavin' her to?"

  "I'd let her run on. She would na rise tae the waves, I'm fearin'.We canna be vera fa' frae the Spanish coast, accordin' to mysurmisation. That wud gie us a chance o' savin' oorsels, though I'm afeared na boat would live in siccan a sea."

  "You're right. We have a better chance so than if we let her ride.She'd founder as sure as eggs are eggs. Damn it, Mac, I could almost beglad this has happened now we've got them two aboard. We'll teach 'emwhat coffin ships is like in a gale o' wind." The rough seaman laughedhoarsely as he spoke.

  The carpenter came aft at this moment, balancing himself as best hecould, for the deck was only a few degrees off the perpendicular.

  "The leak is gaining fast," he said. "The hands are clean done up.There's land on the port bow."

  The mate and the captain peered out through the dense wrack and haze.A great dark cliff loomed out upon the left, jagged, inhospitable, andmenacing.

  "We'd best run towards it," the mate said. "We've na chance o' savingthe ship, but we might run her ashore."

  "The ship will go down before you reach it," the carpenter remarkedgloomily.

  "Keep your heart up!" Miggs shouted, and then crawled along to theGirdlestones. "There is no hope for the ship but we may saveourselves," he said. "You'll have to take your turn at the pumps."

  They followed him forward without a word. The crew, listless and weary,were grouped about the pumps. The feeble clanking sounded like theticking of a watch amid the horrible uproar which filled the air.

  "Buckle to again, boys!" cried Miggs. "These two will help you and thecarpenter and mate."

  Ezra and his father, the old man's grizzled locks flying wildly from hishead, seized the rope and worked with the crew, hardly able to retaintheir foothold upon the slippery sloping decks. Miggs went down intothe cabin. His behaviour during the gale had been most exemplary, buthe recognized now that there was nothing more to be done, and, havingthrown off his public responsibilities, he renewed his privatepeculiarities. He filled out nearly a tumblerful of raw rum and took itoff at a gulp. Then he began to sing and made his way on deck in a veryhilarious and reckless mood.

  The vessel was still flying towards the rugged line of cliffs, whichwere now visible along the whole horizon, the great projection on theleft being their culminating point. She was obviously sinking lower inthe water, and she plunged in a heavy, sulky manner through the waves,instead of rising to them as she did before. The water was steadilygaining in her interior, and it was clear that she would not float long.The straining of the gale had increased the long-neglected rifts betweenher timbers, and no amount of pumping could save her. On the otherhand, the sky had broken above them, and the wind was by no means soviolent as before. The sun broke through between two great hurryingclouds, and turned all the waves to the brightest emerald green, withsparkling snow-white crests of foam. This sudden change and thebrightness of the scene made their fate seem all the harder to theseamen aboard the sinking vessel.

  "The gale is clearin'," remarked McPherson. "If we'd had a ship thatwasna rotten to the hairt, like her owners, we'd ha pu'ed through."

  "Right you are, old Sandy! But we're all goin' together, captain andowners and the whole bilin'," yelled Miggs recklessly.

  The mate looked at him half in surprise and half in contempt."You've been at the bottle," he said. "Eh mun, mun, if we are a'drooned, as seems likely, it's an awfu' thing to appear before yourMaker wi' your meeserable soul a' steeped in drink."

  "You go down and have a drink yourself," Miggs cried huskily.

  "Na, na. If I am to dee, I'll dee sober."

  "You'll die a fool," the skipper shouted wrathfully.

  "Well, old preacher, you've brought us into a nice hole with your damnedinsurance cheating, cheese-paring business. What d'ye think of it now,when the ship's settlin' down under our feet, eh? Would you repair herif you had her back in the Albert Dock, eh?"

  This speech was addressed to the old merchant, who had ceased pumping,and was leaning against the cuddy and looking up hopelessly at the longline of brown cliffs which were now only half a mile away. They couldhear the roar of t
he surf, and saw the white breakers where theAtlantic stormed in all its fury against nature's break-water.

  "He's not fit to command," said Ezra to the mate. "What would youadvise?"

  "We'll bring her round and lower the boats on the lee side. They maylive or no, but it's the only chance for us. Them twa boats will holdus a' easy."

  The ship was settling down in the water so fast that it was no difficultmatter to let the boats down. They only hung a few feet above thesurface. The majority of the crew got safely into the long boat, andthe Girdlestones, with Miggs and four seamen, occupied the gig. It wasno easy thing to prevent the boats from being stove, as the wavesalternately drove them from the ship's side or brought the two togetherwith a force which seemed irresistible. By skilful management, however,they both succeeded in casting off and getting clear without accident.

  It was only when they emerged from under the shelter of the vessel thatthey felt the full power of the sea. If it had appeared stupendous whenthey trod the deck of the barque, how much more so now, when, by leaningthe arm over the side, they could touch the surface. The great glassygreen billows hurled them up and down, and tossed them and buffeted themas though the two boats were their playthings, and they were trying whatantics they could perform with them without destroying them.Girdlestone sat very grim and pale, with Ezra at his side. The youngfellow's expression was that of a daring man who realizes his danger,but is determined to throw no chance of safety away. His mouth was setfirm and hard, and his dark eyebrows were drawn down over his keen eyes,which glanced swiftly to right and left, like a rat in a trap.Miggs held the tiller, and laughed from time to time in a drunkenfashion, while the four seamen, quiet and subdued, steadied the boat aslong as they could with their oars, and looked occasionally over theirshoulders at the breakers behind them. The sun was shining on therugged precipices, showing out the green turf upon their summit and alittle dark group of peasants, who were watching the scene from above,but making no effort to assist the castaways. There was no alternativebut to row straight in for the nearest point of land, for the boats werefilling, and might go down at any moment.

  "The ship's gone!" Ezra said, as they rose on the summit of a wave.When they came up again all looked round, but there was no sign of theill-fated _Black Eagle_.

  "We'll all be gone when we get among the breakers," shouted CaptainHamilton Miggs. "Pull, ye devils, pull! Beat the mate's boat. It's arace, my lads, and the winnin' post is hell."

  Ezra glanced at his father, and saw that his lips were movingtremulously as they pattered forth prayers.

  "Still at it!" he said, with a sneer.

  "Making my peace," the old man said solemnly. "My faith is now indeed astaff and a comfort. I look back at my long life, and though I humblyconfess that I have erred, and erred grievously, still in the main Ihave walked straight. From my youth I have been frugal and industrious.Oh, my boy, look with candid eyes into your own heart, and see if youare fit to be called away."

  "Look to your own beam," Ezra answered, keeping his eye upon the line ofboiling surf, which came nearer and nearer every moment. "How aboutJohn Harston's daughter, eh?" Even at that awful hour Ezra felt asinister pleasure at observing the spasm which shot across his father'sface at the mention of his ward.

  "If I sinned I sinned for a worthy purpose," he answered. "It was topreserve my business. Its fall was a blow to righteousness and atriumph to evil. Into Thy hands I commend my spirit!"

  As he spoke a great wave hurled the boat in upon its broad bosom, andflung it down upon the cruel jagged rocks, which bristled from the baseof the cliff. There was a horrible rending crash, and the stout keelsnapped asunder, while a second wave swept over it, tearing out thestruggling occupants and bearing them on, only to hurl them upon asecond ridge beyond. The peasants upon the cliff gave piteous cries ofgrief and pity, which blended with the agonized groans and screams ofdrowning men and the thunder of the pitiless surge. Looking down theycould see the black dots, which indicated the heads of the poor wretchesbelow, diminishing one by one as they were hurled upon the rocks ordragged down by the under-current.

  Ezra was a strong swimmer, but when he had shaken himself free of theboat, and kicked away a seaman who clung to him, he made no attempt tostrike out. He knew that the waves would bear him quickly enough on tothe rocks, and he reserved himself for the struggle with them. A greatroller came surging over the outlying reef. It carried him in like afeather and hurled him up against the face of the cliff. As hestruggled upon its crest, he mechanically put out his hands and seized aprojecting portion of the rock. The shock of the contact wastremendous, but he retained his grasp and found himself, when the wavereceded, standing battered and breathless upon a small niche in thefront of the rock which just gave him foothold. It was a marvellousescape, for looking on either side he could not see any break in thesheer declivity.

  He was by no means safe as yet. If a wave had landed him there anothermight come as high and drag him away. Looking down he saw one or twosmaller ones break into spray far below him, and then a second greatgreen billow came rolling majestically towards him. He eyed it as itcame foaming in, and calculated that it would come at least as high ashis knees. Would it drag him back with it, or could he hold his own?He braced himself as firmly as he could, placing his feet apart, anddigging his nails into the inequalities of the rock until the bloodgushed from them. The water surged up upon him, and he felt it tugginglike some murderous demon at his legs, but he held on bravely until thepressure decreased. Looking below the saw the wave sinking down theface of the cliff. Another wave overtook it and welled it up again, andthen from the depths of the green waters Ezra saw a long white arm shootup, and grasp the edge of the ledge upon which he stood.

  Even before the face appeared the young man knew that the hand was hisfather's. A second followed the first, and then the old merchant's facewas uplifted from the waves. He was cruelly bruised and battered, andhis clothes had been partly torn away. He recognized his son, however,and looked up at him beseechingly, while he held on with all hisstrength to the ledge of rock. So small was the space that his clingingfingers touched Ezra's toes.

  "There's no room here," the young man said brutally.

  "For God's sake!"

  "Hardly room for one."

  The merchant was hanging with the lower portion of his body in thewater. It was but a few instants, but the old man had time to think ofmany an incident in his past life. Once more he saw the darkenedsick-room, and his own form standing by the bed of the dying man.What are these words which ring in his ears above the crash of the surf?"May your flesh and blood treat you as you treat her." He looked upappealing at his son. Ezra saw that the next wave would lift him rightup on to the ledge. In that case he might be hustled off.

  "Leave go!" he cried.

  "Help me, Ezra."

  His son brought down his heavy heel upon the bloodless hands. The oldAfrican trader gave a wild shriek and fell back into the sea. Lookingdown, Ezra saw his despairing face gazing at him through the water.Slowly it sank until it was but a flickering white patch far down in thegreen depths. At the same instant a thick rope came dangling down theface of the cliff, and the young man knew that he was saved.

  CHAPTER L.

  WINDS UP THE THREAD AND TIES TWO KNOTS AT THE END.

  Great was the excitement of the worthy couple at Phillimore Gardens whenKate Harston was brought back to them. Good Mrs. Dimsdale pressed herto her ample bosom and kissed her, and scolded her, and wept over her,while the doctor was so moved that it was only by assuming an expressionof portentous severity and by bellowing and stamping about that he wasable to keep himself in decent control.

  "And you really thought we had forgotten you because we were insaneenough to stop writing at that villain's request?" he said, pattingKate's pale cheeks tenderly and kissing her.

  "I was very foolish," she said, blushing prettily and rearranging herhair, which had been somewhat tumbled by her
numerous caresses.

  "Oh, that scoundrel--that pair of scoundrels!" roared the doctor,shaking his fist and dancing about on the hearth-rug. "Pray God theymay catch 'em before the trial comes off!"

  The good physician's prayer was not answered in this case, for Burt wasthe only criminal who appeared in the dock. Our friends all went downto the Winchester Assizes to give evidence, and the navvy was dulyconvicted of the death of Rebecca Taylforth and condemned to death.He was executed some three weeks afterwards, dying as he had lived,stolid and unrepenting.

  There is a little unpretending church not far from Phillimore Gardens,in which a little unpretending clergyman preaches every Sunday out of avery shabby pulpit. It lies in Castle Lane, which is a narrow by-way,and the great crowd of church-goers ebbs and flows within a hundredyards of it, but none know of its existence, for it has never risen tothe dignity of a spire, and the bell is so very diminutive that theaverage muffin man produces quite as much noise. Hence, with theexception of some few families who have chanced to find their way there,and have been so pleased with their spiritual welcome that they havereturned, there is a poor and fluctuating congregation. So scanty is itthat the struggling incumbent could very well weep when he has spent theweek in polishing and strengthening his sermon, and then finds upon theSunday how very scanty is the audience to whom it is to be addressed.

  Imagine, then, this good man's surprise when asked to publish the bannsof marriage of two couples simultaneously, each of whom he knew to be inthe upper circles of life, and when informed at the same time that thesaid marriages were actually to be celebrated under his own auspices andin his own church. In the fullness of his heart he at once bought amost unwearable black bonnet with lilac flowers and red berries, whichhe brought in triumph to his wife, who, good woman, affected extremedelight, and afterwards cut away all the obnoxious finery and replacedit to her own taste. The scanty congregation was no less surprised whenthey heard that Tobias Clutterbuck, bachlelor, was about to marryLavinia Scully, widow, and that Thomas Dimsdale, bachelor, was to do asmuch to Catherine Harston, spinster. They communicated the tidings totheir friends, and the result was a great advertisement to the littlechurch, so that the incumbent preached his favourite sermon upon barrenfig trees to a crowded audience, and received such an offertory as hadnever entered into his wildest dreams.

  And if this was an advertisement to the Castle Lane church, how muchmore so was it when the very pompous carriages came rolling up withtheir very pompous drivers, all of whom, being married men, had adepreciatory and wearied expression upon their faces, to show that theyhad done it all before and that it was nothing new to them. Out of theone carriage there jumped a very jaunty gentleman, somewhat past themiddle age and a little inclined to stoutness, but looking very healthyand rosy nevertheless. Besides him there walked a tall, tawny-beardedman, who glanced solicitously every now and again at his companion, asthough he were the bottle-holder at a prize-fight and feared that hisman might collapse at a moment's notice. From a second carriage thereemerged an athletic brown-faced young fellow accompanied by a smallwizened gentleman in spotless attire, who was in such a state ofnervousness that he dropped his lavender glove twice on his way up theaisle. These gentlemen grouped themselves at the end of the churchconversing in low whispers and looking exceedingly uncomfortable, as isthe prerogative of the sterner sex under such circumstances.Mr. Gilray, who was Tom's best man, was introduced to Herr von Baumser,and every one was very affable and nervous.

  Now there comes a rustling of drapery, and every one turns their headsas the brides sweep up to the altar. Here Is Mrs. Scully, looking quiteas charming as she did fifteen years ago on the last occasion when sheperformed the ceremony. She was dressed in a French grey gown withbonnet to match, and the neatest little bouquet in the world, for whichthe major had ransacked Covent Garden. Behind her came bonny Kate, avery vision of loveliness in her fairy-like lace and beautiful ivorysatin. Her dark lashes drooped over her violet eyes and a slight flushtinged her cheeks, but she glided steadily into her place and did hershare in the responses when the earnest little clergyman appeared uponthe scene. There was Dr. Dimsdale too, with the brightest of smiles andsnowiest of waistcoats, giving away the brides in the most open-handedfashion. His wife too was by his side in tears and purple velvet, andmany other friends and relations, including the two Socialists, who cameat the major's invitation, and beamed on every one out of a side pew.

  Then there was the signing of the registers, and such a kissing and aweeping and a distributing of fees as never was seen in Castle Lanechurch before. And Mrs. Dimsdale, as one of the witnesses, would insistupon writing her name in the space reserved for the bride, on whichthere were many small jokes passed and much laughter. Then the wheezyold organ struck up Mendelssohn's wedding march, and the major puffedout his chest and stumped down the aisle with his bride, while Tomfollowed with his, looking round with proud and happy eyes.The carriages rolled up, there was a slamming of doors and a cracking ofwhips, and two more couples had started hand in hand down the long roadof life which leads--who shall say whither!

  The breakfast was at Phillimore Gardens, and a very glorious breakfastit was. Those who were present still talk of the manner in which thehealth of the brides was proposed by Dr. Dimsdale and of the enthusiasmwith which the toast was received by the company. Also of the floweryaddress in which the major returned thanks for the said toast, and themanly demeanour of the younger man as he followed suit. They speak tooof many other pleasant things said and done upon that occasion. How VonBaumser proposed the health of the little incumbent, and the littleincumbent that of Dr. Dimsdale, and the doctor drank to theunpronounceable Russian, who, being unable to reply, sang arevolutionary song which no one could understand. Very happy and veryhearty was every one by the time that the hour came at which thecarriages were ordered, when, amid a patter ing of rice and a chorus ofheartfelt good wishes, the happy couples drove off upon their travels.

  The liabilities of the firm of Girdlestone proved to be less seriousthan was at first imagined. After the catastrophe which had befallenthe founder of the business, there was almost a panic in FenchurchStreet, but on examination it proved that though the books had beendeliberately falsified for some time, yet trade had been so brisk oflate that, with a little help, the firm could continue to exist.Dimsdale threw all his money and his energy into the matter, and tookGilray into partnership, which proved to be an excellent thing for bothof them. The firm of Dimsdale and Gilray is now among the mostsuccessful and popular of all the English firms connected with theAfrican trade. Of their captains there is none upon whom they placegreater reliance than upon McPherson, whose boat was providentiallysaved from the danger which destroyed his former captain and hisemployer.

  What became of Ezra Girdlestone was never known. Some years after Tomheard from a commercial traveller of a melancholy, broken man whohaunted the low betting-houses of San Francisco, and who met his deatheventually in some drunken fracas. There was much about thisdesperado which tallied with the description of young Girdlestone, butnothing certain was ever known about the matter.

  And now I must bid adieu to the shadowy company with whom I have walkedso long. I see them going on down the vista of the future, gatheringwisdom and happiness as they go. There is the major, as stubby-toed andpigeon-breasted as ever, broken from many of his Bohemian ways, butstill full of anecdote and of kindliness. There is his henchman, VonBaumser, too, who is a constant diner at his hospitable board, and whoconveys so many sweets to a young Clutterbuck who has made hisappearance, that one might suspect him of receiving a commission fromthe family doctor. Mrs. Clutterbuck, as buxom and pleasant as ever,makes noble efforts at stopping these contraband supplies, but the wilyTeuton still manages to smuggle them through in the face of everyobstacle. I see Kate and her husband, chastened by their many troubles,and making the road to the grave pleasant to the good old couple who areso proud of their son. All these I watch as they pass away into the
dimcoming time, and I know as I shut the book that, whatever may be instore for us there, they, at least, can never in the eternal justice ofthings come to aught but good.

  THE END.