{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_75211/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_75211","id":"gutenberg_75211","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/75211","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Modern (1750+)","Category: Journals","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Periodicals"],"text":"[Illustration:\n\nCHAMBERS\u2019S JOURNAL\n\nOF\n\nPOPULAR\n\nLITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART\n\nFifth Series\n\nESTABLISHED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, 1832\n\nCONDUCTED BY R. CHAMBERS (SECUNDUS)\n\nNO. 147.\u2014VOL. III.      SATURDAY, OCTOBER 23, 1886.      PRICE 1\u00bd_d._]\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAORIS\u2019 FIGHT FOR LIFE.\n\nBY A NEW ZEALANDER.\n\n\nAn absorbing struggle is going on in New Zealand at present\u2014a struggle\nof life and death to a gallant and interesting people. The Maoris are\napparently making a last stand for existence. Like all savage peoples,\nthey have hitherto been \u2018melting away\u2019 at the approach of the whites,\nuntil now it is believed they number barely forty thousand throughout\nthe entire colony; whereas in 1835, before English colonisation had\ncommenced in earnest, careful observers estimated that nearly two\nhundred thousand natives ranged the woods and navigated the rivers and\nseas of the colony. Captain Cook, probably less accurately, placed his\nestimate at four hundred thousand. Certain it is that from the time we\nhave first known them, the Maoris, like the Kanakas of the South Sea\nIslands and the Red Indians of North America, have gone on steadily\nand even rapidly diminishing in numbers. Just now there is reason to\nhope that this process of extinction has received a check, and the race\nseems gathering together all its energies to make one last struggle for\nexistence. Will it be successful?\n\nIn the first place, let us glance at the causes leading to the\nextinction of the aboriginals of New Zealand. These have been very ably\nset forth in a paper read before the Wellington Philosophical Society\nby Dr Newman, President of the Society. This gentleman is of opinion\nthat the Maoris were a disappearing race before the English came to\nNew Zealand. One of the principal causes is the natural sterility of\nthe people. While the birth-rate among the European inhabitants of\nNew Zealand is the highest in the world, and while the prolificness\nof animal life generally in this fertile land is a matter of constant\nwonder to the naturalist, a birth in a Maori family is, as a rule, of\nless frequent occurrence than a death; and the absence of children in\nthe native villages is absolutely startling to those who have just\nseen the troops of rosy-cheeked youngsters that swarm in the European\ntowns. There are various causes for this unfruitfulness of the race;\nbut the principal source assigned by the writer I have quoted is\nintermarrying, the Maoris being nearly always married either in their\nown or some nearly adjacent tribe. The rate of mortality, also, is\nconsiderably higher among Maoris than with Europeans, consumption\nbeing responsible for the greatest ravages in their ranks. The Maoris,\nwho formerly lived in lofty, well-aired, and well-drained hill-forts,\nnow dwell on the oozy soil of the valleys, where the air is stagnant\nand moisture-laden, while their _whares_ or huts are close and\nunventilated\u2014forming, in fact, hotbeds of lung disease and rheumatism.\n\nDr Ginders, the medical officer at the government sanatorium at\nRotorua, which is situated in the middle of a large native district,\ngives, in a Report recently presented to parliament, a graphic and at\nthe same time horrifying account of \u2018How the Maoris live.\u2019 Referring to\ntheir sleeping-huts, he says: \u2018Being curious to know something of these\nhotbeds of disease, I entered one at seven A.M. before the occupants\nhad turned out. I have no wish to repeat the experience. This was quite\na small family affair, fifteen feet long by ten feet wide. It contained\ntwenty individuals of both sexes and all ages, who had spent the\nnight\u2014say ten hours\u2014in it. The cubic air-space per head was about such\nas would be afforded by a comfortable full-sized coffin. How they can\nexist under such circumstances is one of the mysteries of Maori nature.\nFortunately for them, these sleeping-places are built of pervious\nmaterial, through which the outer air must filter, and all the more\nrapidly from the fact of the great difference of temperature between\nthe external and internal air.\u2019\n\nAfter reading this extract, most people will be inclined to say that it\nis not necessary to look any further for the cause of the gradual dying\nout of the Maoris. It is some satisfaction to reflect that the imported\ndiseases and vices are playing only a minor part in decimating the\nrace. Of the diseases introduced by Europeans, typhoid and measles seem\nto have been the most destructive, especially the former. The only\nimported vice, according to Dr Newman, that has in the least degree\nhelped to hasten the disappearance of the race is drunkenness. The\nmortality among children, from the neglect or ignorance of parents and\nthe insanitary conditions in which they live, is appalling, and until\nsomething can be done to check it, any hope of preserving the race\nmust of course be abandoned. The advent of Europeans has undoubtedly\nbrought with it many causes likely to operate unfavourably on their\ndark-skinned brethren. Some of these have already been mentioned, drink\nunquestionably occupying a bad pre-eminence.\n\nThere is also no doubt among medical men that a partial adoption\nof European habits and customs, accompanied by a retention of\nvarious features in their barbarous mode of living, is the cause\nof much sickness and even mortality. Dr Newman points out one very\ncharacteristic fact: formerly, when the natives entered their _whares_\nwith their wet mats on, they flung them aside; now, when they get wet\nin their European clothing, they keep it on, thus laying the foundation\nof many diseases. On the other hand, civilisation has introduced\nundoubted benefits. For example, the Maoris formerly subsisted on\nfern-root and such hard fare, and found that difficult to get at\ntimes. Now, they have an abundance of wholesome food, and can live in\ncomfort on the revenue derived from their lands, if they do not spend\ntheir money in debauchery. As the result of the labours of the West\nCoast Royal Commission, for instance, every native in the confiscated\nterritory in the North Island who has any right to be there, now has\nan interest in some reserve or other which will provide him with a\nsettled homestead and the means of maintenance, and in many cases\na considerable pecuniary income besides. Naturally, in not a few\ninstances these material advantages are demoralising to the Maoris,\nwho, when able to live in independence and luxury, will not work.\n\nMany of them, however, especially on the east coast and in the\nnorth, are devoting themselves industriously to such occupations as\nsheep-farming, maize-planting, tobacco-growing, &c. I read, in the\nReports of the native officers, that one tribe started farming with a\nflock of four thousand sheep, and divided the year\u2019s profits, which\nactually amounted to seven hundred pounds. Another party of natives\ndid better still at whale-fishing, securing spoil from the deep to the\nextent of two thousand six hundred pounds.\n\nAmong all the elevating influences brought to bear upon the Maoris,\nthe means of education appears to be the most promising; and if they\nsucceed in avoiding the fate of extinction, to which so many savage\ntribes seem doomed when brought in contact with a higher civilisation,\neducation will be the chief agent in bringing about the happy result.\nWith the advance of education, it may reasonably be hoped that the\nMaoris\u2014who are naturally a very receptive people\u2014may be brought to see\nthe evils of consanguineous marriages, to adopt more rational sanitary\nmeasures both as regards their children and themselves. At present,\nthey have very erroneous and mischievous ideas of disease. When an\nepidemic of typhoid fever broke out among some of them recently, they\nwere utterly regardless of the danger of infection, and ridiculed the\nidea of taking any precautionary measures to prevent the spread of the\ndisease, saying it was not fever, but simply a Maori complaint brought\non by _makutu_ or witchcraft. When a native is attacked by illness, he\nfrequently succumbs through sheer fright. It may easily be imagined how\nthese facts increase the mortality of the race, and what improvement\nmay be effected in these respects by the advancement of education.\n\nIt is satisfactory to note that the government are alive to the\nimportance of the subject. According to a recent official Return, it\nappears that there were sixty-nine native schools in full working\norder, and over two thousand Maori children receiving the elements of\na good English education. The great advantage of these schools, it\nhas been very well pointed out, is not so much that the young people\nlearn to speak the English language, but that they learn to appreciate\nour customs, to value time, and to gain a desire for improvement,\nboth mental and social, which, doubtless, they will transmit to their\ndescendants, who will then become fitted to hold a fair position in\nthe future. The natives generally appear to be alive to these facts,\nand not only send their children to the schools, but give sites for\nschool-buildings, and show their interest in the movement in other\nways. They elect their School Committees in the same way that the\nEuropeans do, and on the whole do the work very well.\n\nThe Blue Ribbon movement appears to have taken a singularly firm hold\namong the race. The so-called \u2018king\u2019 himself donned the badge with\ngreat ceremony at the solicitation of Sir George Grey, before leaving\nfor England in 1884; and in every village are to be seen numbers of\nthe young Maori \u2018braves\u2019 wearing the \u2018bit of blue\u2019 as among the most\ncherished of their decorations.\n\nThe outlook, then, as regards the conflict in which the race is at\npresent engaged, is so far satisfactory. The question will, however,\nnaturally be asked, whether the beneficial effects of the educative\nprocess are permanent, or whether, after the Maoris leave school, they\nrelapse into their old habits and customs. The savage nature, we know,\nis very apt to reassert itself. Miss Bird tells us how the Ainos of\nJapan educated at Toki\u00f4 relapsed into barbarism on returning to their\nown people, retaining nothing but a knowledge of the Japanese language.\nAnother writer recounts how an Indian girl, one of the most orderly\nof the pupils at a lady\u2019s school, has been known, on feeling herself\naggrieved, to withdraw to her room, let down her back hair, paint her\nface, and howl. Something of the sort, it must be confessed, is not\naltogether unknown in New Zealand. I once went to see a Maori _haka_\nor dance, interesting in its way, but not more edifying than native\ndances usually are. To my amazement, I saw among the performers a young\nlady whom I had known as a well-educated Maori girl, living in good\ncircumstances, possessing excellent taste in dress, and who had been\nin the habit of taking her place with advantage in European ballrooms.\nOn this occasion her costume, although not more _d\u00e9collet\u00e9e_ than\nEuropean evening dress frequently is, would have created considerable\nsensation in an English gathering, consisting as it did simply of a\nloose calico gown. A very handsome, well-informed half-caste, one of\nthe most lady-like persons I ever met, once confessed to me that she\ncould never look on at a Maori _tangi_ or wake without feeling an\nirresistible inclination to rush in and tear her hair and howl like\nthe rest. In fact, she admitted that she had to leave such scenes,\nor her emotions might have become too strong for her self-control.\nAgain, I shall not soon forget the surprise created, a few years ago,\nwhen one of the most promising young Maoris in Wellington, who had\nbeen brought up with Europeans from childhood, who was being educated\nfor a barrister, and who promised to be one of the ornaments of the\nprofession, suddenly disappeared, and was next heard of as having\nflung off his European clothes and joined the fanatical followers of\na half-demented Maori prophet known as Te Whiti. No inducements could\nprevail on him to return to civilisation, and he became one of the most\ndevoted and credulous of the prophet\u2019s adherents.\n\nThese, however, are exceptions, and not the rule. We have Maori\nmembers both of the Upper and Lower House who are a pattern to some\nother legislators in many respects, and can take their place in any\nEuropean society. We have Maori clergymen both Anglican and Wesleyan\nwho appear to make pastors of the most exemplary kind. There is as yet\nno Maori lawyer in practice, but some native lads are being trained in\nsolicitors\u2019 offices, and there is every prospect of their naturally\nkeen wits enabling them to take a good position in the profession. So\nfar as I am aware, they are not ambitious of becoming doctors; and some\nmalicious people may be cruel enough to suggest that as regards the\nlongevity of the race this is rather an advantage than otherwise.\n\nSome of them are being trained to trades; and it is suggested by the\norganising inspector that every boy, after he has gone through the\nvillage school course, should, if his parents wish it, be apprenticed\nto some trade by the government, so as to insure his obtaining a proper\nindustrial training. With the Maoris grounded in a proper knowledge of\nsocial and sanitary laws, with their moral and intellectual instincts\nproperly guided and cultivated, there seems yet to be a hope that\nthe prophecy so often made, that the race must speedily die out, may\nbe falsified. This is the opinion of a medical man to whom I have\nalready referred. In his Report to the native Minister, Dr Ginders,\nafter mentioning the prevalent diseases among the Maoris, says: \u2018In\nmy opinion, the production, and severity, and the spread of these\ndiseases are determined by two main factors: first, the influence of\nthe _wharepuni_ (sleeping-hut), and secondly, the consumption of putrid\nfood. Compared with these two gigantic evils, alcohol is nowhere. Were\nthere no _wharepunis_, I believe the Maori would be a successful rival\nof his European neighbour in sobriety and industry; but with his blood\nvitiated by the foul air of these hotbeds of disease, he has neither\nstrength nor inclination to work, and it would be odd, indeed, if he\nhad no craving for stimulants. I am inclined to credit the _wharepuni_\nwith more than half the infant mortality. Not only is the child injured\ndirectly by this devitalising influence, but indirectly through the\nmother, whose milk is diminished in quantity and impoverished in\nquality by the same cause. I believe the growing intelligence of the\nrising generation of Maoris has already checked the rapid decadence of\nthe race. I believe, too, that these evils will gradually die out, and\nwe shall find the native population increasing _pari passu_.\u2019\n\nNew Zealand at the present time, it will be seen, has a grand\nopportunity for assisting in the achievement of a civilising feat\nwhich, if successful, will go very far to confute those pessimists who\ndeclare that our modern civilisation is a delusion and a snare, utterly\ndestructive to the weaker races with whom it is brought in contact.\n\n\n\n\nBY ORDER OF THE LEAGUE.\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nThe first act in the drama was about to be played\u2014the puppets all\narranged, all acting for themselves, never heeding the hand of fate\nin it. Hector le Gautier triumphant, but troubled occasionally by the\nloss of his device, yet trusting to his own good fortune and matchless\naudacity to pull him through.\n\nThe curious in such matters, the idle folks who dream and speculate,\nhad food for reflection in their _Times_ next morning, for on the front\nsheet on the second column appeared an announcement. It was vague; but\none man understood it. It ran:\n\n  MOIDORE.\u2014How reckless of you to throw away a life on the hazard of a\n  die. They are all safe but yours. Where is that? In two months you\n  will have to deliver, and then beware of the wrath of the Crimson\n  Nine. It is not too late yet. Under the clock at C. \u00d7 at nine\u2014any\n  night. Use the sign, and good will come of it.\u2014EASTERN EAGLE.\n\nThe _Times_ containing this announcement lay upon Isodore\u2019s\nbreakfast-table in Ventnor Street, Fitzroy Square. As it rested upon\nthe table, the words were readable, and Isodore smiled when they\ncaught her eye as she entered. She took up an album from a side-table\nand turned over the leaves till she came to the portrait of a pretty\ndark girl of about seventeen. At this she looked long and intently,\nand then turned to scrutinise her features in the glass. There was\nnothing coquettish about this\u2014no suspicion of womanly vanity, but\nrather the air of one who strives to find some likeness. Apparently the\nexamination pleased her, for she smiled again\u2014not a pleasant smile,\nthis time, but one of certainty, almost cruelty; and a vengeful look\nmade the eyes hard for a moment.\n\nShe turned to the photograph again, and then once more back to the\nmirror, as if to be absolutely certain of her convictions, that there\nmight be no mistake.\n\nWhile absorbed thus, Valerie le Gautier entered the room and looked at\nIsodore in astonishment. \u2018You have a grand excuse,\u2019 she said archly,\n\u2018though I did not know that vanity was one of your failings, Isodore.\u2019\n\nIsodore blushed never so faintly, not so much by being taken in the\nlittle act, as by the appearance of the thing. \u2018It is not on any\naccount of mine,\u2019 she said; \u2018rather, on yours.\u2014Valerie, look here\ncarefully and tell me if you know that face.\u2019 She indicated the\nportrait in the album; and her friend looked at it earnestly.\n\nAfter a few moments she looked up, shaking her head doubtfully. \u2018No,\u2019\nshe replied. \u2018It is a strange face entirely to me.\u2019\n\n\u2018Then I have altered since that was taken five years ago.\u2019\n\n\u2018Is it possible that innocent, childish-looking face could have once\nbeen you?\u2019 Valerie asked in unfeigned astonishment.\n\n\u2018Indeed, it is. There is nothing like sorrow and hardship to alter the\nexpression of features, especially of women. Yes, Valerie, that is what\nI was when I met him. You would not have known me?\u2019\n\n\u2018No, indeed. They might be two different faces.\u2019\n\n\u2018So much the better for me\u2014so much the worse for him,\u2019 Isodore observed\nwithout the slightest tinge of passion in her tones.\u2014\u2018Read that\nparagraph in the _Times_, and see if you can make anything of it.\u2019\n\n\u2018It is Greek to me,\u2019 Valerie replied, when she had perused the\nadvertisement with a puzzled air.\u2014\u2018Has it any allusion to my\u2014to Hector?\u2019\n\n\u2018To your husband? Yes. He will understand it in a moment, and only\nbe too eager to regain his insignia. There will be a happy union of\ntwo loving hearts some night in Charing Cross Station. Little will\nthe spectators know of the passions running riot there.\u2019 She laughed\nbitterly as she said these words, and threw the paper upon the table\nagain. She was in a strange mood this morning.\n\n\u2018Then I suppose that C. \u00d7 means Charing Cross?\u2019 Valerie asked, \u2018and\nyou expect Hector to come there?\u2014I do not quite comprehend your plan,\nIsodore. It will be dangerous to have another in the secret, and I\nsuppose some one will have to meet him.\u2019\n\n\u2018Some one will,\u2019 was the calm reply. \u2018And who, do you think, is\nthe proper one to do that? Who better than his old friend and once\npassionate admirer, Isodore?\u2019\n\n\u2018_You_ meet him?\u2019 Valerie cried. \u2018How daring! Suppose he should\nrecognise you, how then? All your schemes would be thrown to the winds,\nand we should be defeated. It is madness!\u2019\n\n\u2018You forget I have his badge of membership; besides, I have a duty to\nperform beyond my own feelings in the matter\u2014my duty to the League. But\nhe will not recognise me after the lapse of years, and I must get to\nthe bottom of his traitorous designs.\u2019\n\n\u2018You are reckoning upon certainties, Isodore. Suppose you are\nwrong\u2014suppose he is, after all, no traitor, and that your ideas are\nonly fancies. How then?\u2019\n\n\u2018He is a traitor\u2014instinct tells me that. Wait and see what Lucrece has\nto say, when she comes. She is sure to have gleaned some information by\nthis time.\u2019\n\nHot revenge is apt to burn itself out quickly, from its very\nfierceness; but such hate as this never dies. There was a cool\ndeliberation in Isodore\u2019s words which struck her hearer with great\nforce; and much as she herself had suffered, she could not realise a\npassion such as this. It is probable that had she met her recalcitrant\nhusband, a few words would have obtained for him forgiveness; but she\nwas under the spell now, and her weaker will was swallowed up in a\nstrong one.\n\n\u2018Do you expect Lucrece this morning?\u2019 Valerie asked.\n\n\u2018I am expecting her every moment,\u2019 Isodore replied. \u2018She promised me to\ncome to-day and let me have her report.\u2019\n\nThey sat in silence for a few moments, when Lucrece entered. She was\nquietly, almost plainly dressed, and wore an air of extreme meekness.\n\n\u2018You look the character,\u2019 Isodore said approvingly. \u2018You might have\nbeen a menial all your lifetime.\u2014I am all impatience. Begin!\u2019\n\n\u2018In the first place,\u2019 Lucrece began without further preamble, \u2018I like\nmy situation; and as to my new mistress, to know her is to love her.\nYou have no idea how gentle and thoughtful she is. Now, to begin\nwith her. The dear Hector has a rival, and a powerful one; his name\nis Frederick Maxwell, and he is an artist. From what I can see, they\nare engaged.\u2014Isodore, this Maxwell has joined the League, and will be\nintroduced by Salvarini.\u2019\n\n\u2018Frederick Maxwell! Carlo\u2019s old friend! Poor fool! Le Gautier has tools\nenough.\u2019\n\n\u2018He is a fine handsome Englishman; honour and honesty stamped in\nevery line of his face; just the sort of man to be made useful.\u2014But\nto continue. Le Gautier is _l\u2019ami de la famille_. He has a wonderful\ninfluence over Sir Geoffrey, and has succeeded in fascinating Enid\u2014and\nshe hates him notwithstanding. Isodore, Le Gautier is at his old\nspiritualistic tricks again.\u2019\n\n\u2018Ah!\u2014Tell me something of Sir Geoffrey.\u2019\n\n\u2018I am coming to that. Last night, my mistress was out very late, not\ngetting home till past one. It has been my habit to wait for her in\nthe back dining-room, and last night I was sitting there in the dark,\ndozing. I was awakened by the entrance of Sir Geoffrey. I could see\nhis face was ghastly pale, and he kept muttering to himself, and some\nwords at intervals I caught. \u201cI wonder if it was jugglery,\u201d I heard him\nsay\u2014\u201cif it was some trick of Le Gautier\u2019s?\u2014No; it could not be; and\nyet, if I am to have any peace, I must fulfil the compact\u2014I must join\nthis Brotherhood. And Enid, what will she say, when she knows? What\nwill Maxwell think of me?\u2014But perhaps Le Gautier is already married.\u201d I\ncould not catch any more. What do you think of it?\u2019\n\nIsodore was following the speaker so intently, and so engrossed in her\nthoughts, that she did not reply for a moment. \u2018You can help us here,\nValerie. Tell us what you think.\u2019\n\n\u2018Lucrece is perfectly right,\u2019 Valerie replied. \u2018I have hitherto told\nyou that my husband used to dabble in such things; nay, more, as a\nconjurer he was probably without a rival. He made a great reputation at\nRome before the thing exploded; and indeed, to a weak mind, some of the\ns\u00e9ances were awe-inspiring.\u2019\n\n\u2018It seems to me,\u2019 Isodore put in reflectively, \u2018that Le Gautier has\nworked upon Sir Geoffrey\u2019s superstitious fears till he has him bound\nfast enough. And you say he is to join the Brotherhood. Really, I begin\nto feel an admiration for the man I am pledged to destroy. It is clear\nthat he has promised his daughter to Le Gautier. Is she weak?\u2019\n\n\u2018On the contrary, though she is gentle and tractable, there is much\ndetermination of purpose underlying her gentleness.\u2019\n\n\u2018You have done wonders in this short time, my sister. But do not relax\nyour vigilance now; let nothing escape you that may be of use to us.\u2019\n\n\u2018I must return,\u2019 Lucrece explained, looking at her watch, \u2018or I shall\nbe missed. I will not fail to bring you such information as falls in my\nway from time to time.\u2019\n\nAfter she was gone, the women sat quietly for a time, each pondering\nover what they had heard. The information was not much; but it sufficed\nto show them in what way the influence over the weak baronet had been\nobtained, and every detail of Le Gautier\u2019s movement might be of use. A\nwild plan formed itself in Isodore\u2019s busy brain, as she sat thinking\nthere. \u2018Why should it not be?\u2019 she thought.\n\n\u2018Do you think it would be possible for any one to love me?\u2019 she asked.\n\nValerie looked into the beautiful face and smiled. \u2018How otherwise?\u2019\n\n\u2018Then it shall be so. Valerie, I am going to make Hector le Gautier\nlove me as he never loved woman before!\u2019\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nHector le Gautier, all unconscious of the plot against his safety and\npeace of mind, sat over his breakfast the same morning. He was on\nremarkably good terms with himself, for all his plans were prospering,\nand for him the present outlook was a rosy one. His plans were well\nlaid. He intended to keep his present position in the League, to go\nto Warsaw if necessary; and now that he had Sir Geoffrey in his hands\nbeyond all hope of extrication, it was easy enough to send Maxwell upon\nsome dangerous foreign mission, where, if he escaped with his life, he\nwould henceforth be an outlaw and a fugitive. Sir Geoffrey, too, had\nbound himself to join; and with this lever, he could work upon Enid\u2019s\nfears to perfection.\n\nHe was in no hurry; he was far too consummate a rogue, too accomplished\na schemer, to ruin the delicate combination by any premature move,\npreferring for the present to renew his forces and calculate his\nadvance, as a chess-player might when he knows the game is in his\nhands. Then should come the crowning act, by which he should rid\nhimself of the irksome chains which bound him to the League. All his\nplans were prepared for delivering the leaders into the hands of\njustice, always with a care to his own escape. As he turned these\nthings over in his mind, he whistled a little air gaily, resumed his\nbreakfast, and opened the broadsheet of the _Times_ to see the news of\nthe day.\n\nFortune seemed to be smiling upon him, he thought, as he read the\nmystic announcement in the second outside column. Here was the thing\nwhich had caused him so much anxious thought as good as delivered again\ninto his hands. Some friend, perhaps, had discovered his loss, and had\ndetermined to return it thus. Perhaps\u2014and here he showed his white\nteeth in a dazzling smile\u2014some fair one, who had taken this way to show\nher admiration; for Le Gautier was, like most vain men, a great admirer\nof the sex, and fully impressed with the all-conquering fascination of\nhis manner. He was not the first clever man who has held such opinions,\nand found, when too late, the fatal error of underrating the power of\nan injured woman.\n\nHe perfectly understood the advertisement. It was not the first time\nthat newspapers had been employed to do work for the League; nor did he\nhesitate to avail himself of this golden opportunity. He had scarcely\nfinished his breakfast and made up his mind to meet the mysterious\nEastern Eagle, when Salvarini entered. He was moody and preoccupied,\nwith a sombre frown upon his face, telling of much inward uneasiness.\n\n\u2018I do not like these new arrangements,\u2019 he commenced abruptly, in\nanswer to Le Gautier\u2019s florid greeting. \u2018There is great danger in them,\nand they cannot lead to any good results. I shall oppose them.\u2019\n\n\u2018Pray, explain yourself, my good Luigi; I am in Cimmerian darkness,\u2019\nLe Gautier replied carelessly. \u2018You are so dreadfully in earnest;\nabsolutely, you view life through the gloomy spectacles of the League.\u2019\n\n\u2018It is folly, madness!\u2019 Salvarini replied passionately. \u2018Heaven knows,\nwe have had bloodshed enough. What do you think the last proposal\nis?\u2014Nothing less than the removal of ministers: dynamite is to be the\nagent, and a special mission arranged to Rome. Visci\u2014our dear old\nfriend Visci\u2014is doomed!\u2019\n\n\u2018They must be mad,\u2019 Le Gautier returned calmly. \u2018But tell me, Luigi,\nwhat of Visci?\u2019 he continued, inspired by a sudden thought. \u2018I presume\nyou have been holding a Council this morning. Visci used to be a friend\nof yours. How do they propose to get rid of him?\u2019\n\n\u2018The dagger!\u2019 Salvarini answered with great agitation. \u2018Visci was once\na friend of mine, as you say, and yours too, for that. Heaven save me\nfrom the task!\u2019\n\n\u2018But why need it be you? We have new members, new blood as yet untried.\nLet them show their mettle now. There is no reason why we should always\nbe in the van of battle. But why this sudden determination?\u2019\n\n\u2018The old story,\u2019 Salvarini continued bitterly\u2014\u2018private grudges brought\nin; personal ends to be served where all should be of one accord, all\nstriving for the good of the cause. I am heartsick and weary of the\nwhole affair. Is our path always to be defiled with innocent blood?\u2019\n\n\u2018So long as I can keep my hands clean, it is nothing to me,\u2019 Le Gautier\nreplied with a careless shrug; \u2018not that I hold with the present\nsystem.\u2014But abandon your Cassandra vein, and be yourself for a moment.\nSee what you think of that, and congratulate me upon a stroke of\nfortune I have not altogether deserved.\u2019\n\n\u2018I congratulate you,\u2019 Salvarini grimly replied, when he had perused\nthe paragraph. \u2018You always contrive to fall upon your feet. Did I not\ntell you that night in the Kursaal you would hear of this again? Of\ncourse it is a woman. No man would have taken such trouble, especially\nif he happened to be a Brother,\u2019 he concluded with significant emphasis.\n\nLe Gautier drew his fingers airily across his throat, intending by this\nlittle playful action to allude to his own sudden death. In his petty\nvanity, he was not altogether displeased that his friend should hint at\na conquest.\n\n\u2018Undoubtedly from a woman,\u2019 he said. \u2018Mark the mystery and romance\nunderlying it all. Some fair dame of the Order, perhaps, who has seen\nme only to become a victim to my numberless charms.\u2014Luigi, my friend,\nthis little affair promises amusement.\u2019\n\n\u2018I might have known that,\u2019 Salvarini retorted with some little\ncontempt. \u2018I believe you could be turned aside from the most pressing\nmission by a glance from a pair of melting eyes.\u2014Bah! your thoughts run\non such things to the detriment of the Order.\u2019\n\n\u2018In such a charming situation as you mention, confusion to the\nOrder!\u2014Now, do not look so melodramatic! Pardieu! do you think a man\nshould have no amusements? Now, as a penance, you shall bore me with\nthe order of this morning\u2019s proceedings.\u2019\n\n\u2018A woman will ruin you eventually.\u2019\u2014Le Gautier smiled; the sententious\nwords read the wrong way.\u2014\u2018We had not much transaction this morning,\nsave what I have told you, and the initiation of a few members.\u2019\n\n\u2018Converts to the noble cause of freedom.\u2014Any one I know?\u2019\n\n\u2018Several. Do I understand it is your intention to introduce Sir\nGeoffrey in person?\u2019\n\nLe Gautier nodded assent; and the friends proceeded to discuss other\nmatters connected with their mission. When Salvarini had left, long and\nearnestly did Le Gautier sit silently there. Then he rose, and taking\na pack of cards from a drawer, began to cut and shuffle them rapidly.\nHe dealt them round six times, bringing the knave of clubs on the same\nheap each time. He put the cards away; an evil smile was on his face.\n\n\u2018My right hand has not lost its cunning,\u2019 he muttered. \u2018Frederick\nMaxwell shall go to Rome, and\u2014\u2014 Well, fate will do the rest.\u2019\n\nWith this humane remark, he put on his hat, struggled into a pair of\nvery tight-fitting gloves, and passed out from Hunter Street into the\nEuston Road; for it is almost needless to say that the house beyond\nPaddington where we last saw him was not his ordinary lodging, his\nabode being a much humbler one, as consisted with his limited means;\nfor Hector le Gautier, though moving in good society, and always\nfaultlessly attired, was not endowed with that wealth that smooths\nso many paths in this vale of tears. Like other men of his class, he\ncontrived to keep his head above water, though how it was done was\nalike a mystery to himself and his friends.\n\nIt was past two as he turned into Grosvenor Square and up the broad\nflight of steps which led up to the Charteris\u2019 mansion. He had come\nhere with more purposes than one: in the first place, to see Enid\u2014this\nattraction a powerful one; and secondly, to have a talk upon general\nmatters with the baronet, and perhaps get an invitation to luncheon.\nSir Geoffrey he found in the dining-room, just sitting down to his\nmid-day meal in solitary state; and in answer to an invitation to\njoin, asked after Enid, who, he learned, had gone with Maxwell and a\nkindly chaperon to a morning-party at Twickenham. He was, however, too\nmuch a cosmopolitan to allow this to interfere with his appetite, so,\nwith a few well-chosen words of regret, he settled himself quietly\nto his lunch, discussing in turn the weather, politics, the last new\nbeauty, anything\u2014waiting for his host to speak upon the subject nearest\nhis heart. Sir Geoffrey\u2019s patience being by this time exhausted, he\ncommenced.\n\n\u2018I think I am free, Le Gautier,\u2019 he said at length.\n\nThe listener affected not to comprehend this enigmatic remark.\n\n\u2018Free from what, Sir Geoffrey?\u2019 he asked carelessly. \u2018Is it gout, or\nheadache, or a marvellous escape from dining with a notorious bore?\nWhich of these things are you free from?\u2019\n\n\u2018I was thinking of nothing so worldly,\u2019 was the serious reply. \u2018I\nallude to the marvellous manifestations recently vouchsafed to me.\nSince you so kindly showed me through yourself the path of duty, I have\nfelt like a different man. They are gone, I trust for ever. Tell me, do\nyou think there is any possible chance of their recurring?\u2019\n\n\u2018So long as you fulfil your part of the contract, certainly not.\u2014But,\nmy dear Sir Geoffrey,\u2019 the Frenchman continued gaily, \u2018let us have\nno serious conversation now, I beseech you. Let us forget for the\ntime we are anything but friends. I am too light and frivolous to\ntalk seriously. The last new play, a fresh picture, anything but the\nsupernatural.\u2019\n\nDespite this appearance of _bonhomie_, Le Gautier had no intention of\nchanging the conversation, though it was not his cue to introduce the\nsubject himself; besides, an appearance of good-naturedly yielding to\nthe other\u2019s news seemed to tell better, and create a deeper feeling of\nobligation.\n\n\u2018The longer I put the matter off, the more difficult my task seems\nto be,\u2019 the baronet continued, not without hesitation. \u2018Certain\nrestrictions were laid upon me, certain commands given, which I am\nbound to carry out. If you had heard the conversation, my task would be\nless difficult; but as you did not, I must do my best to explain.\u2019\n\nLe Gautier drummed with his fingers upon the table, shrugged his\nshoulders, and sighed gently, as a man yielding against his will upon\nthe sacred ground of friendship, tempered with politeness.\n\n\u2018If you have anything to say, it is perhaps better to say it. But if\nit pains you, if it gives you the slightest mental agony or discloses\nfamily affairs, then, my dear sir, be dumb;\u2019 and the speaker glanced\nout of the window, as if he considered the matter settled.\n\n\u2018But I must tell you. It is impossible I can fulfil my promises without\nyour assistance. In the first place, I am commanded to join your League\nor Brotherhood; and here, you see, I cannot get any further without\nyour good advice and countenance.\u2019\n\n\u2018You distress me,\u2019 Le Gautier replied mournfully. \u2018I wish that matter\ncould have been settled without such a step being necessary. Our work,\nthough a noble one, is attended at times with great hardship and\ndanger. Think, my dear Sir Geoffrey\u2014think if there is no middle course\nby which such an action may be avoided.\u2019\n\nThe speaker created the impression he was most anxious to make. To the\nbaronet, full of his scheme, this advice was unpalatable, the more\nthat, like most spoilt, weak-minded men, he was intensely fond of his\nown way. He grew stubborn. Le Gautier was perfectly at ease as he\nstudied the other\u2019s face.\n\n\u2018I see no middle course. The injunction was very strict. I dare not\ndisobey, if I would. I must become a member of your League, whatever\nthe danger may be; and if called upon, I must take my part in the work.\nDo you not remember the vision?\u2019\u2014\u2014\n\n\u2018You forget my state,\u2019 Le Gautier interrupted softly\u2014\u2018that during the\ntime I heard nothing, comprehended nothing going on around me. My\nfaculties for the time being were torpid.\u2019\n\nThis adroit interruption only served to increase the baronet\u2019s\nuneasiness. He writhed in his chair, unable to continue.\n\n\u2018And there is another thing,\u2019 he stammered, \u2018which I must tell you,\nthough I scarcely know how. I daresay you have noticed my daughter?\u2019\n\n\u2018Is it possible to see her and not be conscious of her beauties!\u2019 Le\nGautier cried\u2014\u2018to be in her presence and not feel the charm of her\nsociety! Ah! Sir Geoffrey,\u2019 he continued blandly, throwing out a strong\nhint, \u2018he will be a happy man who wins the treasure of her heart!\u2019\n\nAt this helping of the lame dog over the stile, Sir Geoffrey looked\ngrateful. \u2018Has she ever impressed you, Le Gautier?\u2019\n\n\u2018Alas, yes,\u2019 was the melancholy reply, but with some feeling too, for,\nas far as he was concerned, the passion was genuine. \u2018Why should I\nstrive to conceal my honest love? I may be poor and unknown, but I am\nat least a gentleman, and I offer the greatest compliment man can pay a\nwoman\u2014an ardent, loving heart.\u2014But I am rambling; I dream, I rave! That\nI should aspire to an alliance with the House of Charteris!\u2019\n\nThe baronet was somewhat moved by this display of manly emotion, and,\nmoreover, his pride was tickled. The young man evidently knew that what\nhe aspired to was a high honour indeed.\n\n\u2018But, Sir Geoffrey,\u2019 he continued brokenly, \u2018you will not breathe a\nword of this to a soul! In a moment of passion, I have been led to\ndivulge the master-passion of my life. Promise me you will forget\nit from this hour;\u2019 and saying these words, he stretched out a hand\ntrembling with suppressed emotion to his host and friend. A good actor\nwas lost to an admiring world here.\n\n\u2018But bless me!\u2019 Sir Geoffrey exclaimed, taken aback by this display,\nand, sooth to say, somewhat irritated that the necessary explanation\nmust come from him after all, \u2018I _want_ you to marry the girl.\u2019\n\n\u2018Is it possible, or am I dreaming?\u2019 Le Gautier cried in a delirium of\nrapture. \u2018Do I hear aright? Oh, say these words again!\u2019\n\nLe Gautier was slightly overdoing the thing now, and Sir Geoffrey knew\nit. \u2018I mean what I say,\u2019 he added coldly. \u2018You are the man for Enid.\u2019\n\n\u2018Who is talking about Enid?\u2019 asked a fresh clear voice at that moment,\nas the subject of discourse, accompanied by her escort, glided into the\nroom. Le Gautier, in love as he was, thought he had never seen her look\nso fair as she did then, her face slightly tinged with colour, her eyes\nall aglow with pleasurable excitement. For a moment the conspirators\nwere abashed, and it took all the Frenchman\u2019s cool equitable nerve to\nsolve and explain what appeared to be a truly awkward question.\n\n\u2018When we are not with the rose, we love to talk of her,\u2019 he replied\nwith one of these bold glances for which Maxwell longed to kick him on\nthe spot.\u2014\u2018I trust you have spent a pleasant morning?\u2019\n\nEnid answered as coldly as the dictates of breeding would allow.\nThe man\u2019s florid compliments were odious to her, and his presence\noppressive. Le Gautier, accustomed to read men and faces like open\nbooks, did not fail to note this.\n\n\u2018I have important news,\u2019 he whispered to Maxwell, after he had made his\ngraceful adieux to Enid and his host. \u2018I want to say a few words to\nyou, if you happen to be walking my way.\u2019\n\nMaxwell answered with studious politeness. \u2018With pleasure,\u2019 he said.\n\u2018If you will allow me, I will drive you in my cab.\u2019\n\nEnid\u2019s quick ears caught the whisper, and a feeling of approaching evil\nseemed to come over her\u2014a cloud passed over the sun, and, to her fancy,\nfor a moment Le Gautier looked like Mephistopheles tempting Faust. As\nthe two men passed out, she called Maxwell back. \u2018Be careful,\u2019 she\nurged. \u2018Beware of that man; he will do you a mischief.\u2019\n\nMaxwell smiled down in the pretty fearful face tenderly. \u2018All right,\nlittle woman,\u2019 he answered carelessly. \u2018I shall take care. He is not\nlikely to do any harm to me.\u2019\n\n\n\n\nNAPOLEON IN TOR BAY.\n\n\nIt is all but impossible to realise the scene of excitement which the\ncalm blue waters of Tor Bay, crested with the bright sunshine of the\nsummer of 1815, presented, when the Emperor Napoleon arrived on board\nthe _Bellerophon_, soon to be transferred to the _Northumberland_,\nin which he was conveyed to St Helena. After the world-earthquake\nWaterloo, when the allies entered Paris, and the French army declared\nfor Louis XVIII., Napoleon made his way to Rochefort, where he arrived\non the 3d of July, and whence his attempts at escape were frustrated by\nthe moonlight and the vigilance of the English cruisers. Two frigates\nhad been placed at his disposal to facilitate his flight to America,\nand arrangements likewise made with a Danish smack which was to await\nhim out at sea; but to reach her under the circumstances was deemed an\nattempt too hazardous. At last, on the 14th of July, Count Las Cases\nand General Allemand came on board the _Bellerophon_, then lying in\nthe Basque Roads, with a proposal to Captain Maitland that he should\nreceive Napoleon, who desired to proceed to England for the purpose\nof throwing himself upon the generosity of the Prince Regent. Captain\nMaitland clearly explained that it was out of his power to grant\nterms of any sort, and that his instructions only permitted him to\nconvey Napoleon and his attendants to England; on which understanding,\nthe ex-Emperor, with his baggage, embarked the following morning\non board a French brig, which conveyed them to the _Bellerophon_,\nwhere he was received with the honours due to a crowned head. On\ngaining the quarter-deck, the Emperor said in French to the captain:\n\u2018I am come, sir, to claim the protection of your Prince and of your\nlaws.\u2019 In appearance he is described as about five and a half feet in\nheight, strongly made, decidedly stout, with a sallow complexion, and\ndark-brown hair, as yet untouched with gray. He wore a green uniform\ncoat with epaulets and a red collar, a broad red sash, star on the left\nbreast, white waistcoat, boots and pantaloons, and a large cocked hat\nwith the tricoloured cockade.\n\nThe passage, by reason of adverse winds, was slow, so that it was the\n24th ere the _Bellerophon_ arrived in Tor Bay, when Captain Maitland\nwas signalled to stand out three leagues from shore, and there await\nfurther orders from the Admiralty. It is said that on first beholding\nthe Devonshire coast, Napoleon could not conceal his admiration,\nexclaiming: \u2018At length here is this beautiful country! How much it\nresembles Porto Ferrajo, in Elba.\u2019\n\nNo sooner was it known that the disturber of the peace of Europe,\nagainst whom they had so long and so sternly striven, was actually\non board ship at anchor in Tor Bay, than from Dartmouth, Paignton,\nDawlish, Teignmouth, and by-and-by from ports more distant still, the\ncountry-folk thronged in boats of every size and shape, struggling to\napproach the _Bellerophon_ to catch a glimpse of the fallen Emperor.\nSo inconvenient and dangerous was the crowding of these innumerable\ncraft with their cargoes of sightseers, that it became necessary to\norder the _Bellerophon\u2019s_ boats to row round the ship to keep them at a\nrespectful distance. No fewer than a thousand boats daily put off from\nthe shore; and Napoleon exhibited no little pleasure and amusement at\nthe interest excited by his presence. From London and all parts of the\ncountry, people flocked down to Tor Bay during the time necessarily\noccupied in determining Napoleon\u2019s final destination, well pleased if\nthey succeeded in catching an occasional glimpse of him as he walked\nbackwards and forwards in the stern gallery with his hands behind him,\nor surveyed through an opera glass the varied texture of the crowd in\nthe vessels below. As he paced the quarter-deck in conversation with\none or other of his followers, he would frequently approach the ship\u2019s\nside and acknowledge the salutations of his visitors. Two or three\nFrench ladies, wives of members of the suite, dressed in the height\nof the prevailing fashion, were frequently seated on deck, with whom,\nas he paused in his walk and stooped to look through the ports at the\nvessels alongside, Napoleon would now and again exchange a word. At\nsix o\u2019clock the dinner-bell rang, when the Emperor with his attendants\nwent below, the sailors with great good-humour putting out a board\non which was chalked, \u2018He\u2019s gone to dine.\u2019 He usually remained about\nhalf an hour, when another board announced his reappearance on deck. It\nwas about the 1st of August when his ultimate destination became known\nto him through the newspapers, and he was shortly afterwards observed\nat the cabin window tearing up papers, which he threw into the sea.\nFragments of some of these, being seized upon as relics, turned out\nto be translations of speeches in the last session of parliament, and\na letter addressed to the Empress Maria Louisa immediately after his\nabdication.\n\nBut of all the incidents which occurred while Napoleon was in Tor\nBay, the most remarkable was a farewell visit paid him by a lady of\nforeign appearance and surpassing loveliness. Cloaked and veiled,\nto escape observation, she carried with her a bouquet of choicest\nflowers, peculiarly arranged in rows, which, when her boat arrived\nat a convenient distance from the _Bellerophon_, was despatched in\ncharge of her servant. As the token of unchanged affection reached\nthe quarter-deck, the lady was observed to raise her veil, disclosing\nfeatures of exceeding beauty. At first, the bouquet seemed to awaken\nno memories in Napoleon\u2019s breast, but after a moment, he hastily\napproached the ship\u2019s side, and steadfastly gazing awhile on the fair\nform disclosed to view, he waved a last farewell.\n\nOn Wednesday the 2d of August, the _Bellerophon_ and _Tonnant_ sailed\nfor Plymouth, where it had been intended that the transfer to the\n_Northumberland_ should be carried out. But in consequence of the loss\nof life which occurred from the vast concourse of boats in the Sound,\nas well as to avoid a writ of habeas corpus, under which it was desired\nto obtain the evidence of Napoleon in a case at the time pending in the\nQueen\u2019s Bench, it was deemed advisable to return to Tor Bay, where,\non Sunday the 6th of August, the three vessels (the _Northumberland_\nhaving meantime come round from Portsmouth) cast anchor. No sooner\nwere the ships brought up, than Sir Henry Bunbury, accompanied by Mr\nBathurst, proceeded on board the _Bellerophon_, and announced to the\nex-Emperor the resolution of the cabinet, that he should be transported\nto St Helena, accompanied by four of his friends and twelve servants.\nThe information was received without surprise; but in a speech of\nthree-quarters of an hour\u2019s duration, delivered in a manner the most\nimpressive, Napoleon protested against the determination which had been\narrived at.\n\nThe same afternoon, Lord Keith and Sir George Cockburn proceeded in\nthe admiral\u2019s yacht to the _Bellerophon_. Napoleon was on deck to\nreceive them. After the usual salutations, Lord Keith addressed himself\nto Bonaparte, and acquainted him with his intended transfer to the\n_Northumberland_ for passage to St Helena. After much expostulation,\nNapoleon finally refused to go; but upon Lord Keith expressing the\nhope that no coercion would be necessary to carry out the orders of\ngovernment, he replied: \u2018O no, no! you command, I must obey! Only,\nrecollect, I do not go of my own free-will.\u2019 He then formally handed to\nLord Keith a written protest against his transportation to St Helena,\nin which it was contended, that having come voluntarily on board\nthe _Bellerophon_, he was the guest and not the prisoner of England.\n\u2018I appeal,\u2019 he concluded, \u2018to history, whether an enemy who comes\ndeliberately in his misfortunes to seek an asylum under the protection\nof English law, can give a more convincing proof of his esteem and\nconfidence. But how have the English answered such confidence and\nmagnanimity; they pretended to extend a friendly hand to this enemy;\nand when he relied on their good faith, they sacrificed him.\u2019\n\nIt was afterwards arranged that the transfer should take place the\nfollowing morning (Monday) about eleven o\u2019clock. Early next day, Sir\nGeorge Cockburn superintended the inspection of the baggage, consisting\nof services and toilet sets of plate, several articles in gold, books,\nbeds, &c., which were sent on board the _Northumberland_, four thousand\ngold napoleons being sealed up and detained. The baggage having been\nremoved, the parting scene commenced, Napoleon handing to several of\nhis officers a certificate of fidelity and good service. About eleven\no\u2019clock, the barge of the _Tonnant_ proceeded to the _Bellerophon_ to\nreceive the fallen Emperor and those who were to be the partakers of\nhis exile: General and Madame Bertrand with their children, Count and\nCountess Montholon and child, Count Las Cases, General Gourgaud, nine\nmen and three women servants. At the last moment, Napoleon\u2019s surgeon\nrefused to accompany him, whereupon the surgeon of the _Bellerophon_,\nMr O\u2019Meara, consented to supply his place. Shortly afterwards O\u2019Meara\nwas offered a salary of five hundred pounds per annum, but this he\nrejected, with the remark that the pay of his king was sufficient to\nsatisfy him.\n\nBefore entering the barge which was to convey him to the\n_Northumberland_, Bonaparte addressed himself to Captain Maitland and\nthe officers of the _Bellerophon_, not forgetting to take off his hat\nto them again after descending the ladder into the barge. It was about\nnoon on the 7th of August when the barge of the _Tonnant_ approached\nthe starboard side of the _Northumberland_. Bertrand was the first to\ngo over the side, and standing with his hat off, upright as a sentinel,\nannounced his master. Napoleon instantly followed, and taking off his\nhat, remarked to Sir George Cockburn, who received him: \u2018Monsieur, je\nsuis \u00e0 vos ordres.\u2019 At once moving forward on the quarter-deck, he\ndesired to be introduced to Captain Ross, who commanded the ship, a\nceremony which was immediately performed, the guard of marines, drawn\nup on the port side, receiving the ex-Emperor with the compliment due\nto his rank as a general officer. To Lord Lowther and Mr Lyttleton,\nwho stood near the admiral, Napoleon bowed and spoke a few words,\nremarking also to an artillery officer who was by, that he himself\nhad originally served in that arm. The introduction to the eight\nlieutenants of the ship, not one of whom could speak a single word of\nFrench, was sufficiently ridiculous; they were drawn up in line on\none side of the cabin; and after gazing and smiling for a moment on\nNapoleon, who, in his turn, gazed and smiled at them, they bowed and\ndefiled before him out of the cabin door. The after-cabin on board the\n_Northumberland_ was not, as on the _Bellerophon_, the private room\nwherein Napoleon was not to be intruded upon by any unbidden guest, but\nwas shared equally by the admiral and his friends; a small cabin being\nbesides appropriated for the sole accommodation of the ex-Emperor,\nand elegantly furnished, the toilet being of silver, and the bed\nlinen of exquisite fineness. The party were also permitted to supply\nthemselves from shore with any articles they might desire wherewith\nto add to their comfort and amusement, a permission of which they\navailed themselves by purchasing a billiard-table, an immense supply of\nplaying-cards, chessmen, &c., besides a number of the best books in the\nEnglish language.\n\nAfter waiting for the _Weymouth_ storeship and some other vessels\ndestined to complete the miniature squadron, the whole finally sailed\nout of Tor Bay on Friday the 11th of August; and Napoleon passed away\nfrom the shores of Europe to end his days in exile on a solitary rock\nin the Atlantic.\n\n\n\n\nGEORGE HANNAY\u2019S LOVE AFFAIR.\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\u2014DISENCHANTMENT.\n\nFortune seemed to smile on Alfred\u2019s London enterprise. He called\npersonally on the editors of several of the society magazines and\njournals. \u2018A Summer Ramble in Kirkcudbright\u2019 was now in all the glory\nof print; and when he assured the editors that he was really the\n\u2018Ariel\u2019 who penned the sketch, he found them willing, nay, anxious\nto look over the manuscripts he left with them. The letter from the\n_Olympic_ accepting the manuscript and inclosing so handsome an\nhonorarium was of great help to him. Mr Hannay had a reputation for\n\u2018discovering\u2019 talent, and his prot\u00e9g\u00e9s hardly ever failed in taking\nsome rank in the profession. He got four or five accepted at fairly\nremunerative prices. Then he was proposed at a minor literary club, and\npassed the ballot. As a new contributor to the _Olympic_, he ranked\nwell there among his brother scribes, who looked on him as a rising\nman, and one whose good opinion was worth courting. These new friends\nindeed treated him with great cordiality, and made him as one of\nthemselves; some even going the length of borrowing from him small sums\nof money.\n\nNor was this all. One of the members, the sub-editor of a Sunday paper,\nvolunteered to introduce him to London \u2018society.\u2019 Behold our friend,\nthen, at a grand reception at Mrs Judson\u2019s. This lady was the widow of\na wealthy London pawnbroker (financial agent she preferred the lost one\nto be called). Her sole ambition in life was to secure a following of\nliterary \u2018stars,\u2019 even if they were of infinitesimal magnitude; and in\nher circle, \u2018Ariel\u2019 appeared as one of the first. His handsome figure\nand genial manners constituted him a great favourite with the ladies;\nand his presence was eagerly sought for at all these little reunions\nwhich compose the \u2018fringe\u2019 of London literary and artistic society.\nHe found this kind of life both pleasant and profitable; for he was\nbrought in contact with many editors and proprietors of third and\nfourth rate periodicals, and was able to dispose of half his rejected\nmanuscripts among them, with fairly satisfactory pecuniary results to\nhimself.\n\nHis banker now held one or two hundred pounds to his credit, and he\nbegan to look upon the success of his literary venture as _un fait\naccompli_. There was just one little thing that annoyed him: his newly\nfound literary friends were extremely solicitous to know when his\nfurther productions would appear in the _Olympic_. This was a poser,\nfor he had not the least idea himself. He got out of the difficulty,\nhowever, by saying that the principal editor being on the continent,\nthere would be nothing definitely arranged until his return. As will be\nremembered, Nan\u2019s restrictions did not prevent him from contributing\nto the _Olympic_ in his own name; so, immediately after his arrival\nin London, he set to work and wrote a sketch called \u2018Student Life in\nBrussels.\u2019 The manuscript was duly sent, and duly returned in a few\ndays with a printed note indicating the editor\u2019s regret at being unable\nto make use of the paper. This was discouraging; but then he reflected\nthat taste in literary things was very fickle; so he wrote a heavy\narticle on Fair Trade, and sent it on; but the result was the same.\n\nAbout this time, he heard that Mr Hannay had gone to St Petersburg\nwith a friend to enjoy the winter festivities of the gay northern\ncapital. As he was not expected home for two or three months, Alfred\nhad a good excuse till then for the non-appearance of any further\nwork of his in the _Olympic_. In the meantime he gave himself up to\nthe charming gaieties and pleasant little dissipations of the circle\nthat had made quite a lion of him. He rather liked the homage these\npeople paid him; true, they were mentally his inferiors, he thought;\nbut then they had money, position, and influence, and might be made\nuseful to him in the future. He began to think\u2014sometimes with a feeling\nbordering on regret\u2014of his engagement to the innkeeper\u2019s daughter. How\nmuch better he could do now, if he were free! However, he would be\ntrue to his engagement. Only, Nan must be reasonable, and wait; at the\nend of two or three years, when his name was famous and his position\nthoroughly assured, he would marry her. To do so now would be extremely\nprejudicial to his interests, and must not be thought of for a moment.\nO no; she must wait patiently till it suited his convenience; and\nwouldn\u2019t she gladly do so? Of course, for wasn\u2019t the girl madly in love\nwith him?\n\nAnd what about Nan? Well, things were going on in their usual jog-trot\ncourse at Lochenbreck. The winter was their dull season, and she had\nplenty of time at her disposal, which she employed in sewing, reading,\npractising her music, and occasionally taking part in the quiet social\ngatherings of her country neighbours. She was, of course, delighted to\nhear of her lover\u2019s success in London. \u2018Well, after all,\u2019 she thought,\n\u2018he seems to have known best.\u2019 Then she thought smilingly of the time\nwhen he would be coming to claim the fulfilment of her promise; and\nshe hoped she could induce him to spend part of the year at least at\nLochenbreck. The parting with her father was the only drawback in her\nfair future; and she hoped this might be partially at least averted.\nShe sometimes thought of her old and trusted friend the editor, and\na shadow would come over her countenance for a moment. It passed\nquickly away, however, for she never thought but that he had long since\nforgotten her, amid the gaieties of the continent and his literary\npursuits; for though far from London, he still held the editorial reins\nand wrote his usual articles for the _Olympic_.\n\nThis pleasant, tranquil state of matters lasted for some weeks. Her\nlover still corresponded regularly with her; but his letters began to\nget shorter, and were, perhaps, not quite so profuse and warm in their\namatory expressions. Then after a bit they came more irregularly and\nseldomer. Still Nan paid no heed to what another maiden might have\ntaken as indications of their lover\u2019s failing allegiance. Hers was\na happy, contented disposition, with no morbid desire to conjure up\npossible future evils. She loved Alfred sincerely, and with all the\nwarmth and fervour of a girl\u2019s first love. That he had failings, her\nstrong, keen sense showed her plainly enough; but then he was only a\nfallible mortal like herself and other people. She was not blind to the\nvanity he displayed in writing to her about his social triumphs. If\nthere was anything that troubled her, it was the frequent references he\nmade to Mrs Judson. She resented the control which this woman seemed\nto have acquired over her lover\u2019s doings. True, the widow was almost\nold enough to be his mother, and had been very kind to him; but a man\nshould have a mind of his own, and hold his future in his own hands; if\nhe did consult with any one, it should be with her who was soon to be\nhis wife.\n\nThings went on in this fashion for some time longer, and Nan began\nto feel a vague, chilling feeling in her heart that all was not as\nit should be between Alfred and herself. She was scarcely prepared,\nhowever, for a letter she received from him one morning after a\nlonger silence than usual. It was dated from a Sir Hew Crayton\u2019s\nshooting-lodge down in Essex. The high-born though impecunious\u2014and, if\nthe truth must be told, rather disreputable\u2014baronet had been a client\nof the late Mr Judson, and was heavily indebted to his widow. He was a\nconstant attender at her house, and it was there Alfred had formed his\nacquaintance. Nan smiled when she saw the ostentatious way he dated the\nblazoned note-paper from Crayton Lodge. Before she finished reading,\nhowever, her eyebrows became knit, and an angry frown settled on her\nwhilom smiling visage. The letter commenced by saying that as he felt\nrather out of sorts with his protracted course of social enjoyments,\nhe had accepted his friend Sir Hew Crayton\u2019s kind invitation to spend\na few days\u2019 pheasant-shooting with him down in Essex. Then he gave\na general account of what he had been doing since he last wrote\u2014the\ndinner-parties, balls, routs, conversaziones, and what not he had been\nat; the compliments that had been paid him, and the pleasing prophecies\nof the grand future before him which flattering tongues had whispered\nin his ears. All this she read with an amused smile. But near the end\nshe came to a paragraph which ran as follows: \u2018Do you know, Nan, I\nhave got a splendid chance of making my fortune just now? A young lady\nwith twenty thousand pounds in her own right has fallen in love with\nme! I was introduced to her at an afternoon tea at Mrs Judson\u2019s. Of\ncourse, I made myself agreeable enough, but I never thought she would\nhave taken my little civilities so seriously. Yet she did so. Mrs\nJudson gave me a plain hint to that effect, and I then had to tell her\nabout our engagement, and that such a thing was impossible. She was\nsurprised, and advised me strongly to keep the thing secret, as, if it\nwere known, it would damage my prospects greatly in society, and even\nin my profession. She has an excellent knowledge of the world, Mrs\nJudson, and has been very kind to me; her idea is, that we should not\nthink of getting married for two or three years yet. By that time I\nwill be in an assured position, able to marry any one I like, and not\ncare a pin what the world says.\u2019\n\nNan could scarce believe her eyes. Who was this Mrs Judson who had\nthrust herself between them? And did the prospective \u2018not caring a\npin what the world said about marrying her,\u2019 mean that he was afraid\nand ashamed to marry her _now_? The very thought brought the hot\nblood tumultuously to her cheeks. Her impulse was to write breaking\noff the engagement at once; however, when the first burst of natural\nindignation was past, her practical good sense asserted itself, and\nshe wrote a short note, requesting him to hasten down to Lochenbreck,\nas something of the most vital importance to them both had to be at\nonce decided. This she posted, and awaited her lover\u2019s arrival\u2014with\nimpatience certainly\u2014but not of a pleasing kind.\n\nWhen Alfred got the letter, he was a little startled. Justly enough, he\nattributed it to something he had said in his last epistle to her; and\nin going over its contents in his mind, he had no difficulty in fixing\non the paragraph just quoted as being the cause of offence. \u2018Poor Nan!\u2019\nhe thought. \u2018A case of jealousy, I suppose\u2014the twenty-thousand-pounds\nyoung lady. How ridiculous of her! Didn\u2019t I say the thing was\nimpossible! However, I must run down and see her. A kiss, a caress, and\na few soft words, will put her all right. Really, now, I do like Nan;\nand I\u2019ll make things all right for her one of these days. But she must\nhave patience: she forgets what a sacrifice I am making, all for her\nsake. To marry an innkeeper\u2019s daughter! when, I may say, I have the\npick and choice of the eligibles of London society, seems like lunacy.\nOh, but I\u2019ll be true to her, all the same! But she must learn her\nposition; give up any selfish ideas of an early foolish marriage, and\nlearn to wait patiently till it suits my convenience and interest.\u2019\n\nHe arrived at Lochenbreck railway station by the morning express. The\nwagonette was there to meet him, but no Nan. He jumped in; and whirling\nthrough the keen frosty air, cracking jokes with the driver the while,\nhe arrived in excellent spirits at the little old-fashioned inn. To\nNan\u2019s great relief, her father had gone to Castle Douglas market;\nshe hated \u2018scenes\u2019 of any kind and under any circumstances; but she\nthought she could bear the one before her better, if her father was not\npresent and was never to hear of it afterwards. After having dinned\nthe praises of his prospective son-in-law in his ears for months, how\ncould she now turn round and say she had discovered him to be a vain,\nconceited, selfish coxcomb? She had little hope of this interview\nputting matters right between them, and, to be prepared for the worst,\nhad collected all his letters\u2014all the little nicknacks he had given\nher\u2014and parcelled them up ready to hand to him.\n\nShe submitted gravely and coldly to the customary salute with which he\ngreeted her, and led the way to the coffee-room, where breakfast lay\nready for him. In the occasional presence of the waiting-girl, private\nconversation was impossible; so he rattled on in an agreeable manner\nabout his experiences in London, giving brilliant sketches of the\nvaried private and public entertainments in which he had participated.\nNan listened with lady-like composure, putting in an occasional word;\nand when the meal was over they retired to the private parlour. They\nsat down opposite to each other, and then Anne commenced her invective.\nShe pointed out that he had deliberately chosen literature as a\nprofession, and having gained a slight success, was now idling away his\ntime in London, among a set of people who could do him no good, and who\nwere, she thought, but of very doubtful reputation.\n\n\u2018Wrong there, Nan!\u2019 he interrupted. \u2018I admit I don\u2019t quite move in\nthe inner circle. Still the people I know seem to have plenty of\nmoney, and are respectable enough; and I find them useful. I meet with\njournalists among them, and have been able to dispose of a good many of\nmy manuscripts. And you would notice I was staying for a few days with\nSir Hew Crayton. Now, you know it does a literary man a deal of good\u2014in\npublic estimation\u2014to be taken notice of by a baronet.\u2019\n\n\u2018I am sorry to hear you talking in that way,\u2019 she replied sadly,\n\u2018for it shows me your vanity has got the better of your good sense.\nDo you not see it was entirely through your article appearing in the\n_Olympic_ that you got your rejected manuscripts disposed of? As for\nyour baronet, I don\u2019t think you need boast of him. He stayed with us\nfor a month, four years ago, and left without paying his bill. Papa\nmade inquiry about him, and found he made a swindling living by lending\nhis name as director to bogus Limited Companies. Likely he would borrow\nmoney from you?\u2019\n\nAlfred was forced to admit that he had obliged him with a loan.\n\n\u2018Now, Alfred,\u2019 she continued gravely, \u2018I have decidedly made up my mind\nthat it would be better for us both that our engagement should come to\nan end. If you continue in the life you are leading, I have no hope\nfor your future; but even if you were successful, I could never marry\nyou. Doubtless, you would expect me to mix with your new friends; that\nI could never do\u2014if they are like what you describe them\u2014and certain\nunhappiness would be the result. It is well for us both I have come to\nknow this in time.\u2019\n\nThis was different sort of talk from what he had come to hear. It was\ntears and entreaties for their immediate union which he had expected.\nStill his vanity blinded him to the true import of her words. She had\nsaid she never could mix with his new friends; well, it was but proper\nmodesty for her to say that. He would reassure her on that score, and\nall would be well yet.\n\n\u2018My dear Nan, I think you are talking a little hastily. No doubt you\nwould feel a little awkward among the London ladies at first, but that\nwould soon pass away. And Mrs Judson promised me to chaperon you a bit,\nand\u2019\u2014\u2014\n\n\u2018I wish to hear nothing more, sir, about Mrs Judson,\u2019 she answered\ncurtly.\n\n\u2018Well, Nan, she\u2019s a good friend of yours. I told her all about our\nlittle affair. She said of course it would be a great sacrifice on my\npart; but she applauded my intention of acting honourably towards you,\neven although you were only an innkeeper\u2019s daughter. Of course, it may\nbe two or three years before I\u2019\u2014\u2014\n\n\u2018Stop!\u2019 she cried, rising to her feet, her lips quivering and her\ncheeks as pale as death\u2014\u2018stop, sir! I did not send for you here to\ninsult me. Surely I have spoken plainly enough; but your head is so\nstuffed with selfish vanity, you cannot comprehend me. Our engagement\nis at an end. Here are all your letters and presents! You\u2019ll return\nmine when you get to London.\u2014Now, go!\u2019\n\nAs she said the last words, she drew herself up to her full height and\npointed to the door. The action was perhaps a little theatrical; but\nwhen he looked at her white set face and flashing eyes, he saw plainly\nenough that she was acting no part. He fancied he had never seen her\nlooking so handsome before; and he felt a sinking at his heart at the\nthought of having by his foolish letters and talk lost for ever this\nwoman.\n\n\u2018You\u2014you\u2014are\u2014angry just now, Nan. Do take time to\u2019\u2014\u2014\n\n\u2018Go!\u2019 she repeated firmly, her hand still pointing to the door. Her\nface was marble in its inflexibility; he knew his doom was sealed.\nMaking a poor show of indifferent self-possession, he rose and quitted\nthe room.\n\nWhen he was fairly gone, Nan broke down entirely. Shutting herself up\nin her bedroom, she made use of the safety-valve provided by nature\nfor her sex, and had a thoroughly good cry. Next morning, she was calm\nand self-possessed, although her eyes were red and heavy looking. Her\ncherished idol had crumbled into dust; and it became her, she thought,\nas a prudent damsel to sweep away the smallest trace of it from her\nheart.\n\n\n\n\nLONDON CHARITY ORGANISATION SOCIETY.\n\n\nThe Society for Organising Charitable Relief and Repressing Mendicity,\nor, as it is popularly called, the Charity Organisation Society, has\nfor its object the scientific supervision of charity dispensation,\nin the deep-rooted conviction that slovenly and indiscriminate\nalmsgiving is a most pernicious bane to society, and calculated to\nfoster rather than diminish indigence. Personal inquiry is the keynote\nof the Society\u2019s mode of operation. Trained, experienced, and apt\npersons\u2014both honorary and paid\u2014exhaustively investigate all cases of\nindigence brought under the Society\u2019s notice. In each instance, one\nimportant point is established at the outset of the investigation,\nnamely, whether the individual concerned must of necessity\u2014through\nphysical or other disability\u2014habitually depend for sustenance upon the\nresources of others, or whether he or she possesses the latent means\nof self-support, which may be brought into action\u2014under the fostering\ninfluence of personal guidance in moral and material things\u2014after\nthe temporary condition of poverty has been met by the judicious\napplication of charity. Cases of the former description are relegated\nto the action of the poor-law\u2014therein lying its true function; cases\nof the latter kind are taken in hand by the Society. But its action\nis not that of an individual charitable institution concerned merely\nwith the distribution of its own resources. It acts as an intermediary\nbetween those who need charity and those who are anxious to devote\nmoney to charitable purposes. Hence, in the discharge of its functions,\nit places itself in connection both with benevolent individuals and\nbenevolent bodies, seeking to secure the best relief for the different\ncases of destitution which come under its notice and at the same time\nto prevent \u2018overlapping\u2019 in charity dispensation. Where, however, it\nfinds that a case of destitution cannot effectively be relieved from\nother sources, the Society brings its own funds into requisition. As to\nits function of \u2018repressing mendicity,\u2019 this it discharges by promoting\nthe detection and prosecution of impostors.\n\nAnd now for a word or two about the mechanism, if we may so call\nit, of the Society. The organisation consists of a federation of\nforty district committees\u2014one or more being established in each of\nthe poor-law divisions of London\u2014and of a Central Council, at which\nevery committee is represented. The committees comprise, where it\nis possible, ministers of religion, guardians of the poor, and\nrepresentatives of the principal local charities. Their function is to\nreceive, investigate, and deal, according to the general principles\nof the Society, with all cases of alleged want or distress referred\nto them; and each is intended to form a common meeting-place\u2014a centre\nof information and charitable work\u2014for persons in the district\ndesirous of benefiting the poor. The Central Council supervises\nbesides endeavouring to strengthen and consolidate the work of the\ndistrict committees, taking into consideration, as well, all questions\nof principle and all matters relating to the general action of the\nSociety. Of course the scene of the Society\u2019s main operations is\nthe metropolitan poor-law district; but it is glad to give general\nassistance, by sending information to agencies outside that area. We\nmay add that the example set by the Society has given birth to many\nforeign and provincial organisations of identical aims and action.\n\nIt may be interesting to glance briefly at the broad method of\ninvestigation pursued by the inquiry officers\u2014be they paid or\nhonorary\u2014of the Society. In treating a family, then, the following\nfacts are in the first place arrived at: The ages of the parents; the\namount of their earnings at the time of application and previously;\nthe cause of their leaving their last employment; the ages of\ntheir children; and whether those children go to school (and if\nso, where)\u2014or, if they are employed, what they earn. The previous\naddresses, with the references of the family, are next learned; and\nit is ascertained whether they belong to a club or have relatives who\nought to assist them. Then inquiry is made as to whether the family\nhave any debts hanging over them; what their rent is; how they are\nobtaining a living at the time of application; and, finally, how they\nthink they can be thoroughly helped. Subsequently, it is the inquiry\nofficer\u2019s duty, among other things, to ascertain for himself the cause\nof the family\u2019s distress, verifying the information they have supplied\nto him; to search out the best mode of helping; to familiarise himself\nwith the character of the family, and find on whom, if its natural head\nbe weak or incompetent, reliance can be placed to re-establish the\nfamily fortunes; and, lastly, to settle what means of future thrift and\nself-support can be fostered into life.\n\nDid space permit, we should like to give some characteristic examples\nof instances where the indigent have been raised to a state of\nindependence by the well-advised action of the Society, and tell how\nthe workhouse itself has been made to yield material with which to work\nso happy a transformation. Some reference, too, would be justified to\nthe numerous special questions in connection with which the Society has\nseen cause to take action. But we have said enough perhaps to effect\nour immediate purpose and indicate the nature of the Society and the\nscope of its operations. A considerable literature has grown around the\nCharity Organisation Society, and this is accessible to all who visit\nthe central office of the institution, 15 Buckingham Street, Adelphi,\nLondon, whither all communications to the Secretary, Mr C. L. Loch,\nshould be addressed.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DENSCHMAN\u2019S HAD.\n\nA LEGEND OF SHETLAND.\n\n\nFrom Widwick to Hermaness the cliffs rise steep and high from a deep\nocean, so deep that a large ship might float alongside of the crags\nwithout danger of scraping her keel. What would be the fate of such\na vessel, if she were carried by the might of that sea against that\niron wall, I leave you to imagine. The rocks are broken all along\ntheir range by fissures and caves, inaccessible from the land, and\nscarcely approachable from the sea. He is a bold voyager who brings\neven a boat to thread the \u2018baas\u2019 and \u2018stacks\u2019\u2014submerged rocks and\nneedle-crags\u2014which guard the way to those haunts of sea-fowl and seals.\nOne of the caves is named the Denschman\u2019s Had. I ought to explain that\na \u2018had\u2019 means the den of a wild beast, his stronghold; and \u2018Denschman\u2019\nis \u2018Dane.\u2019\n\nIn old days, Shetland (or Hialtland) was nothing more than a \u2018had\u2019 of\nvikinger, those pirates of the North who have so often been confounded\nwith the noble sea-kings of Scandinavia; but while the islands belonged\nto Norway, their inhabitants were under powerful protection, and\nsuffered little inconvenience from the uses to which the sea-rovers\nturned the sheltered voes and secluded islets. It was only when\nScottish rule came in that the vikinger of Norway and Denmark turned\ntheir weapons against their brother-Norsemen of the Shetland Isles.\nDuring the times of the Stuarts, Scotland had enough to do to look\nafter itself, far less to extend protection to an outlying dependency\nthat was more plague than profit. Indeed, the Scottish kings and nobles\nseem to have regarded Hialtland as fair game, and robbed and oppressed\nthe people after as cruel a method as that of the northern pirates.\nBetween the two, those islands had a hot time of it; and the islanders,\nonce a prosperous community, sank into poverty and hopeless serfdom.\n\nAbout the time of Mary Stuart, the isle of Unst was harassed by a noted\nviking whose name and lineage were unknown. He and his daring crew\nwere believed to be Danes, and his swift barque\u2014appropriately named\nthe _Erne_\u2014and his stalwart person were familiar to the affrighted\neyes of the islanders. When the Denschman swooped upon the isle, its\ninhabitants fled to the hills and rocks, leaving their homes as spoil\nfor the lawless rover. What else could they do? The enemy were strong,\nreckless, brave, well armed and well disciplined. The islanders,\ngroaning and disheartened under the yoke of an alien power, were at\nthe mercy of might, and could neither resist nor make treaty; so the\nDenschman came and went like the fierce bird of prey whose name his\nvessel bore, and no man dared oppose him.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOne midsummer evening, a westerly squall arose which sent the\nfishing-boats flying to the shelter of their voes and vicks. Those\nstorms rise and fall with tropical rapidity and violence. Six hours\nafter it was at its height, the wind had fallen to an ordinary fresh\nbreeze, the sky was smiling as before, and only the wrathful surf,\nrolling white and broken under the influence of a changing tide,\nremained to tell of the tempest. All the boats had returned in safety,\nand there should have been rejoicing in Unst; but instead, men frowned\nand women trembled, for the fishers had brought news that the Denschman\nwas on the coast: his well-known sail had been seen hovering beyond\nthe holms of Gloup; he was coming upon the wings of the westerly wind;\nhe would be on the Westing Bicht ere long. There was no landing-place\navailable\u2014with such a heavy sea\u2014on that side of the island; but the\nDenschman knew what he was about, doubtless. He would scud to the\nnor\u2019ard, fly round the Flugga skerries and Skau, would lay-to, and\nbide his time till dusk drew down; then he would alight on the eastern\nshore, and work his wild will upon the defenceless isle. Such had been\nhis tactics aforetime. The people ran to the high lands of Vaalafiel\nand Patester to mark the Denschman\u2019s course, for where he meant to\nland, _there_ they must not be.\n\nSoon the _Erne_ was descried emerging from a mist of spindrift, and\nbearing swiftly towards Unst, heading straight for the isle, and not\u2014as\nthe folk had supposed\u2014skirting the coast. Did the vikinger mean to\nbring their vessel to harbour among those crags, where the sea was in\nsuch a turmoil? Was the _Erne_ a demon-ship that could dare everything\nand perform such a feat? On he came right before the wind with a\nfollowing tide; but when well in the Westing Bicht, some experienced\nseamen affirmed that there must be something wrong aboard, for the\n_Erne_ did not rise on the waves with its usual buoyancy; he seemed to\nplunge madly forward, as if in fierce conflict with the ocean he had\nruled so long. By-and-by it was seen that the vessel laboured more and\nmore, yet carried full sail, as if on speed depended salvation.\n\n\u2018I would not say but he\u2019s sprung a leak, or the like,\u2019 said an old\nudaller among the onlookers. \u2018Who but a madman would bring a ship\nin-shore like yon, if all was taut aboard!\u2019\n\n\u2018That is so,\u2019 remarked a seaman. \u2018Without doubt, he\u2019s in straits;\nand he\u2019s going to try to beach on the Aire of Widwick. It\u2019s his only\nchance, and a poor one.\u2019\n\n\u2018Pray the powers he may not make the Aire,\u2019 replied the old man; \u2018and\nI\u2019m thinking,\u2019 he added, \u2018that the powers will hear us. There is\nsomething fatal amiss with that evil one. See yon! He\u2019s not obeying his\nhelm; he\u2019s just driving with wind and tide. He\u2019s in a mighty strait,\npraise the Lord!\u2019\n\n\u2018If he misses the Aire, he\u2019ll go in _shallmillens_ [the fragments of\neggshell] upon the baas of Fl\u00fcbersgerdie,\u2019 said a fisherman, with a\ngrim smile; and all cried out: \u2018Pray the powers it may be so!\u2019\n\nAs if the powers thus invoked were ready to prove their immediate\nwillingness to answer the cry of the oppressed, the wind veered more to\nthe west, and carried the disabled ship against the holm of Widwick, a\nsmall islet which lies off the creek, and wards from it the full force\nof the North Atlantic. If the _Erne_ had stranded on the holm, some\nof his crew might have effected a landing there; but that was not the\nend of the viking\u2019s barque; she reeled back from the holm with a gash\nin her side that was a death-wound indeed, and drifted onwards once\nmore. Now, would she gain the creek? No! In a few moments the _Erne_\nwas carried past the little harbour, where lay the sole chance of\ndeliverance, and then crashed among the rocks of Fl\u00fcbersgerdie.\n\n\u2018Praise to the powers that are above all!\u2019 cried the men of Unst, and\neven gentle-hearted women rejoiced as the Denschman, barque and crew,\ndisappeared among the breakers.\n\nThe people returned to their homes, happy in the thought that the rocks\nof Fatherland had proved able protectors, and that Unst was for ever\nrid of its most dreaded foe.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTwo days and two nights passed. No trace of the storm was left. A\nboat put off from Widwick with the intention of saving such portions\nof the _Erne_ as would certainly be drifting among the skerries near\nFl\u00fcbersgerdie. The men could tell by the state of the tides and the\nwind exactly where the wreckage was to be found, and they made for\nthe spot, never doubting that some spoil would be there to reward\nthem. As they approached the submerged reef where the _Erne_ finished\nher career, the skipper, alluding to the dreaded Denschman, said:\n\u2018Well did he deserve what he met here! Think our isle would give him\nfoothold!\u2014our isle, that he has harried this ten year and more! No, no!\u2019\n\nScarcely were the words spoken, when one of the fishermen called out\nexcitedly: \u2018Lord be about us, men, what\u2019s yon?\u2019\u2014and he pointed to a\ncave situated in the cliff opposite the reef.\n\nAll gazed, and were struck dumb, for, on a ledge within the mouth of\nthe helyer (cave) stood a man\u2014the man! the Denschman, alive, stalwart,\nterrible as ever, and brandishing his sword, as if defying mortal to\nmolest him.\n\nThe boat was instantly backed, and when the islanders had put what\nthey considered a safe distance between themselves and their dreaded\nfoeman, the men consulted together. Should they make a bold attack?\nThe Denschman was alone; they were six in number. Surely, they could\noverpower him, tired and despairing as he must be. Yes. But one, or\neven two of their number were likely to fall before his sword ere he\ncould be conquered. Who was patriot enough \u2018to lead such dire attack?\u2019\nNo one of that crew! Then should they leave him to die of exhaustion,\nas he must ere long? There was no way of escape. The lofty precipice\noverhung the cave, precluding any scheme of climbing upwards; on either\nside, the _aiguille_ crags rose from a seething depth of sea; in front,\na reef of sunken rocks covered with fretful surf, dared the bravest\nswimmer that ever breasted waves to pass alive.\n\nThe Denschman had evidently reached his present refuge by aid of a\nlarge plank belonging to the _Erne_, which still floated near the cave.\nWhen they had recovered every vestige of the wreck which floated, he\ncould not escape. It was beyond the power of man to leave that cave\nunaided from without. Help must come from ropes lowered from the land\nabove, or boats brought to the cave. And who was there in Unst would\nbring rope or boat to aid the Denschman? None!\n\n\u2018Let him die the death!\u2019 said the men whose homes the viking had\ndevastated. So they ventured nearer, and removed every floating spar or\nplank, then returned to Widwick; and it was told in the isle that the\nDenschman had survived his barque and crew only to meet a more terrible\ndeath. No man pitied him; no man dreamt of giving him succour. Those\nwere days when the gentler feelings had little part in men\u2019s warfare,\nand no red cross of healing followed battle ensigns to the field of\nfight.\n\nNext day, a number of boats put off, that men might feast their eyes\non the dead or dying viking; and many saw him. That day, he was seated\non the ledge of rock glowering at them; but he made no sign of either\nsubmission or defiance. \u2018He grows weak,\u2019 they said, and wondered that\neven the Denschman\u2019s tough and giant frame had so long withstood the\nexposure and starvation.\n\nA third time the islanders sought the rocks of Fl\u00fcbersgerdie and saw\nthe pirate chief as before. Then they began to fear, and to say that he\nmust be allied to potent powers of evil; for how, otherwise, could he\nhave survived there so long? The interior of the helyer could be seen\nfrom a little distance: no food or clothing had been saved from the\nwreck to be secreted there. The prisoner was always seen sitting on the\ncold bare ledge where he had been first discovered, and the people were\nsatisfied that the cave held no means of sustenance.\n\nDay by day for a whole fortnight boats were guided to Fl\u00fcbersgerdie,\nand men gazed in awe, but did not venture to molest the Denschman, who\nmerely returned their stare with haughty glances, and never deigned\nto bespeak their compassion. Dread of the supernatural added its\nparalysing effects to the terror which the viking\u2019s fame had implanted,\nand there was not a man found brave enough to attack the Denschman in\nhis \u2018had.\u2019\n\nThen heaviness fell on the men\u2019s spirits, for wives and mothers\nupbraided them as cowards; their little ones shrieked and hid their\nfaces when it was told that the bugbear of their dreams was making his\n\u2018had\u2019 in an Unst helyer; and at last, driven by shame and a remnant of\nmanly courage, the islanders determined on attacking their enemy. They\nwould discover if he were immortal; they would prove if the powers of\nevil were above those of good.\n\nA fleet of boats was got ready, laden with sharp stones, which were\nto be cast at the foe\u2014a safe mode of onslaught! The islanders armed\nthemselves with staves and axes. Nets were prepared, in whose toils\nthe Denschman should fall if he, by any strange chance, came to close\nquarters. The oldest udaller in the isle ordered his best boat to be\nlaunched and consecrated, to lead the attack. A day was fixed upon. It\nhad been ascertained on the previous evening that the Denschman was\nstill in his \u2018had,\u2019 alive and strong. No one doubted by that time that\nthere he would remain while the island remained, if not ousted by force\nand the help of holy powers; or if not aided by demons to rise and\nblight the isle.\n\n\u2018Pray,\u2019 said the old udaller to his three fair daughters, who stood\nto see him embark in the consecrated boat\u2014\u2018pray that I bring the\nDenschman\u2019s dishonoured corpse back with me.\u2019\n\n\u2018We will pray,\u2019 said the golden-haired maidens.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBut what consternation there was on the Aire of Widwick, a few minutes\nlater, when it was found that the old man\u2019s boat\u2014the largest and best\nin the isle, the skiff that was to have led the attack\u2014had disappeared!\nShe had not sunk into the pellucid water, else she had been easily\nrecovered; she had not floated out to sea, for the tide was running\nlandwards; yet she had gone as completely as if she had owned feet to\ncarry her over earth, or wings to fly through air. To be sure, the boat\nhad both feet and wings of a kind, but these were of use on the ocean\nalone. And she was gone\u2014oars and sails too! Doubtless, her flight had\nbeen on her native element; but some man\u2019s hand must have spread her\nwings or moved her feet. Then who had stolen the udaller\u2019s boat? No\nHialtlander, be sure! Robbery was never the vice of those islanders;\nmoreover, such a theft could have been brought home to a native easily.\n\nOne fisherman, more acute than his neighbours, whispered: \u2018None but\nthe Denschman has done this;\u2019 and with common assent, all echoed: \u2018The\nDenschman has done this.\u2019\n\nBoats instantly put off and sped to Fl\u00fcbersgerdie, where confirmation\nof those suspicions was not wanting. The Denschman was no longer in the\ncave. He had been there, hale and terrible, on the previous evening;\nhe had vanished that morning, and left no trace behind. \u2018It must have\nbeen the Evil One himself,\u2019 said the folk; and there was gloom in the\nisle, trembling, and much fear, for all expected that ere long the\nDenschman would descend upon Unst, and, fired by revenge, deal worse\nhavoc than even that of former days.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBut days and weeks went past, and nothing further was known of the\nDenschman or the udaller\u2019s boat, and still the people feared their\nancient foe and looked for his return. None doubted that he survived.\nThe man who could live in unabated vigour through a fortnight without\nfood or fire in a dark ocean cave, who could find means of leaving his\nprison, and could spirit away a large boat\u2014such a one was not likely\nto have perished on the sea. Yes, without doubt, the Denschman would\nreturn to Unst; \u2018and heaven help us when he comes!\u2019 said the islanders.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen it happened one autumn afternoon that a stranger vessel was\nseen, on the Westing Bicht, making tacks for the isle. The people\nhad always cause to suspect an unknown sail, and they watched the\nstranger\u2019s approach with some fear. As he drew nearer, it was observed\nthat he closely resembled the _Erne_ of old, but carried the white\nflag of peace. The Norland pirates ever scorned to conceal their true\ncharacter, which was never a treacherous one, but flaunted their\nruthless blood-red colours in the face of day. If a viking hoisted\nthe white banner, he meant peace; and so well was this known, and so\nthoroughly could all men trust in the good faith of a viking, that\nthe islanders instantly sent off a boat to the vessel, though they\nsuspected it was a pirate ship. The stranger had a boat in tow, and\nwhen the islanders came near, he lay-to and allowed them to come\nalongside of his convoy. What was the fishermen\u2019s astonishment to find\nthat the boat was no other than that of the Unst udaller!\n\nThen a stern voice spoke from the ship. \u2018Come not nearer,\u2019 it said,\nin a patois half-Danish, half-English, which the Hialtlanders could\ninterpret well enough. \u2018Come not nearer; but undo the tow-line, and\ntake that boat to its owner. It is freighted with goodly gifts for\nthe udaller\u2019s three fair daughters, who will know whence those tokens\ncome.\u2014And know, ye hinds of Unst, that ye owe your lives and all that\nmakes life precious to the golden-haired maidens.\u2014Begone!\u2019 Then the\nspeaker\u2014easily recognised as the Denschman\u2014made imperious sign to his\nmariners, who speedily put the vessel on another tack, and before many\nminutes he was running out to sea again.\n\nThe islanders towed the laden boat ashore, where a throng was waiting\ntheir return. Numerous questions were asked, numerous conjectures made.\nThe udaller and his daughters were summoned and the precious cargo\ndisplayed. Table utensils of silver, personal ornaments of gold, silken\nstuffs and snowy linens, rich wines and fruits, and precious grain,\nwhatever could please feminine taste, were spread before the wondering\npeople, while the three sisters stood mute and blushing, now cowering\nwith strange shame, anon glancing with curious pride at all around.\n\nPresently, their old father addressed them in grave and troubled\ntones: \u2018Tell us the meaning of this strange _g\u00fcdic_ [riddle].\u2019\n\nAt that, the two younger girls fell on their knees and clasped his\nhands entreatingly, while the eldest sister cried: \u2018O father, do not be\nangered, and I will tell ye all. We heard you speak of the Denschman\nin his sore strait with nobody to pity him. It\u2019s true he had dealt\ncruelly by our isle; but\u2014but, O father, it lay heavy on our hearts\nthat a man\u2014and such a man, with such a goodly presence and such a bold\nspirit\u2014should die like an otter trapped in a snare; and so, we\u2014we went\nto the rock in the dark hour of nicht, and we lowered a _keschie_\n[basket] to him with food and cordials and clothes\u2014everything to keep\nin life. And then\u2014when we knew that our men meant to stone the poor\ndefenceless captive to death, our souls were melted with pity; so we\ntook the boat and helped him to escape. _We_ were not afraid of the\nDenschman; and, truth to tell, he can be kind and gentle like other\nmen. Or ere he left the isle\u2014all in the mirk hour\u2014he promised that,\nbecause of what we had done, he would never harry Unst again. No doubt,\nit was wrong of us, father; but then, oh, be mindful that the plight\nhe was in could not fail to touch lasses\u2019 hearts. And if good instead\nof harm come of it\u2014nay, _has_ come of it\u2014ye need not trouble yourself\nmore, but forgive us, and trust the Denschman to keep his word. He\nwill do so. We all know that a viking stands to his promise, whate\u2019er\nbetide.\u2019\n\n\u2018The lass has spoken words of wisdom,\u2019 said a prudent matron, eyeing\nthe viking\u2019s royal gifts; and a laughing seaman added: \u2018Ay, and what\nwould come of us poor men if lasses were not pitiful, and not just\naltogether wise at times!\u2019\n\nSo the old udaller forgave his daughters, and\u2014as legend says\u2014\u2018after\nthat Unst was often benefited, and never more harried, by the\nDenschman,\u2019 whose \u2018had\u2019 is still pointed out to the inquiring stranger.\n\n\n\n\nAN ELECTRICAL FURNACE.\n\n\nSome of the enormous power which runs waste at the Falls of Niagara\nis about to be utilised at last, and, strangely enough, the first\nwork required of the water will be the smelting of refractory ores.\nThis new undertaking is to be carried out by the Cowles Electrical\nFurnace Company, the inventors of the process being Messrs Eugene\nH. and Alfred H. Cowles. Their experimental works at Cleveland,\nOhio, have been so successful, that they were awarded the John Scott\npremium and the Elliot Cresson medal of the Franklin Institute. While\nlabouring under various disadvantages, the Company was yet able to\nproduce metallic combinations that promise to be of great importance,\nsuch as aluminium bronze, aluminium silver, aluminium brass, and\nsilicon bronze in ingots, castings, wire, and rolled metal. Some of\nthese alloys were manufactured into different articles in every-day\nuse. They exhibited screws of aluminium brass; knives with blades of\naluminium silver, and handles of aluminium bronze; together with a\nnumber of other manufactured articles. Aluminium bronze is stronger\nthan steel, is not so liable to rust, and, being elastic and ductile,\nif it can be produced at a cheap enough rate, it should have a great\nfuture before it. For instance, cycles made of it would be lighter,\nstronger, and more easily kept clean than those made of steel. This\nindustry alone should create a large demand. Silicon bronze, also,\nfrom its electric conductivity, tensile strength, lightness, and\nnon-corrosiveness, will be a desirable substitute for iron and copper\nin telegraphy; while aluminium silver\u2014an alloy containing the special\nbronze with nickel\u2014will be serviceable for cutlery and fancy articles.\nPure aluminium, however, has this great disadvantage, that it tarnishes\nreadily, and unless something can be done to remedy the defect, its\nusefulness will be considerably restricted. At the same time, these\nalloys bid fair to supplant steel and other metals in the manufacture\nof light articles where strength and appearance are desirable.\n\nA dynamo larger than any yet constructed is at present being made\nfor the Company at Lockport, New York. As already stated, it will be\ndriven by water, acting on turbines. The contemplated works will, it\nis estimated, yield about three hundred thousand horse-power, and this\nonly represents a fraction of the power that is running to waste at\nNiagara.\n\n\n\n\nWHO KNOWS?\n\n\n    I grant her fair, ay, passing fair,\n      As lovely as a budding rose;\n    But is there soul behind that face,\n    A beauty \u2019neath that outward grace?\n          Who knows\u2014who knows?\n\n    Does light of love beam from those eyes?\u2014\n      The love that in her bosom glows?\n    Or is the light that lingers there\n    Delusive, though it shine so fair?\n          Who knows\u2014who knows?\n\n    Does that fair form a fairer charm,\n      A tender, loving heart inclose?\n    A heart whose tendrils, like the vine,\n    Would round the heart that loved it twine?\n          Who knows\u2014who knows?\n\n    And should life\u2019s sky be overcast,\n      And gathering clouds around thee close,\n    Should fortune frown and false friends flee,\n    Would that heart still cling close to thee?\n          Who knows\u2014who knows?\n\n    Or is she, can she ever be,\n      As fickle as the wind that blows,\n    And veers as if it were at play,\n    Trifling with all who own her sway?\n          Who knows\u2014who knows?\n\n    But why a prey to doubt remain?\n      Why halt \u2019twixt hope and fear?\u2014propose.\n    She may be waiting till you dare,\n    To crown with love that beauty rare.\n          Who knows\u2014who knows?\n\n        JOHN NAPIER.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nPrinted and Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, 47 Paternoster Row, LONDON,\nand 339 High Street, EDINBURGH.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_All Rights Reserved._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Transcriber\u2019s note\u2014the following changes have been made to this text.\n\nPage 676: du to de la\u2014\u201cl\u2019ami de la famille\u201d.]","title":"Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, fifth series, no. 147, vol. III, October 23, 1886","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":16878}