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RACHEL DENE

THE LIBRARY

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LOS ANGELES

RACHEL DENE

A TALE OF THE DEEPDALE MILLS

EV

ROBERT BUCHANAN

AUTHOR OF 'god and the man," " THE SHADOW OF THE SWORD," ETC.

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CONTENTS.

CHAriER I. Found in the Snow		PAGE 1
II.	Bad News travels Fast		9
III.	Little Rachel		... 19
IV.	Two Lads and a Lass ...		28
V.	A Game at Lawn-Tennis		... 39
VI.	The Great Invention		49
VII.	A Black Monday		... 57
VIII.	Ealph Mollis ...		68
IX.	A Forewarning		... 76
X.	The Feast op St. Leger		83
XI.	After the Legeb		... 95
XII.	Jabez Prtke's Vigil		103
XIII.	Up at the Mill		... 113
XIV.	The Dead Man ...		118
XV.	The Inquest		... 124
XVI.	The Earl of Beauchamp		131
XVII.	The Primrose Path ...		... 144
iVIII.	'TwixT Dover and Calais		156

VI" CONTENTS.

CHAPTKE J-AOB

XIX. Guilty or not Guilty ... ... ... 165

XX. Under Sentence of Death ... ... 170

XXI. Prison Walls ... ... ... ... 180

XXII. Another Change ... ... ... 193

XXIII. Captain Fitzherbert ... ... ... 204

XXIV. Rachel on the Watch... ... ... 211

XXV. Fitzherbert gets into Trouble ... ... 220

XXVI. The Two Prisoners ... ... ... 210

XXVII. A Eomantic Episode ... ... ... 240

XXVIII. In Brittany 266

XXIX. A Sunbeam m Deepdale ... ... ... 277

RACHEL DENE,

CHAPTER I.

FOUND IN THE SNOW.

It was Christmas Eve. Two men and a woman Bat, snow-surrounded, in the parlour of a small cottage in the valley of Deepdale, Yorkshire. One man was old, and the woman was his grey, world- worn wife; the other man was young, hale, and hearty.

"Here's Jack's health," said the old man, Jasper Heywood.

*' And here's Jack's wife," said Joan.

"Nay, let us toast them together," interposed the young man ; " for sure man and wife are one flesh — so here's to 'em both, and God send 'em safely home from these cruel wars."

" Thou mayst well say cruel, Jabez," replied Joan. "Ah, if I had my wa3% there'd be no fighting men abroad, nor weeping wenches at home ! "

" Stop there, woman," said Jasper. " An there

2 RACHEL DENE.

was no fightin' men abroad, what'd become o' the weepin' wenches at home ? — what'd become o' ifs, and our tight little island, I'd like to know — eh, Jabez ? "

"Well, father, when the world grows older and wiser, perhaps folk will find something better to do than cut other folk's throats ; but I fear that won't be in your time, or mine."

*' Likely not," was the reply. " Meanwhile, since Christmas comes but once a year, let's be jolly. Load thy pipe, lad — here's a bit o' rare bird's-eye ; and, good wife, mull us another mug o' elder, and come round t' fire, for sure it's a bitter neet."

The old man was right. It was a bitter night indeed. The wind, however, had dropped, and the snow, which had been falling almost incessantly for the past twenty-four hours, had almost ceased.

All was calm now, and still.

"When Jabez Pryke came down from Deepdale Mills the night before, to pass Christmas with his adopted father, Jasper Heywood, and his wife Joan, the grey goose in the sky was only just beginning to shed her feathers ; but now she had shed them till the heavens were bare.

The snowdrift had fallen in the valley breast high, and the roads were nigh impassable.

" Strikes me, Jabez," said Joan, *' thou'lt have to stay here for t' next week ; for sure, thou'lt never be able to get to t' mills wi'out a snow- sledge."

FOUND IN THE SNOW, 3

" Well, good mother," answered the young man, laughing, " I couldna wish for better company, nor a warmer welcome, though for certain I promised t' gaffer to dine up at t' Hall to-morrow ; and he'll think I'm lost i' t' snow-drift if he doesna see me."

" Come i' t' ingle neuk; draw thysen up t' fire," replied Joan.

The yule log crackled on the hearth, and shed a ruddy glow on the cosy cottage and its occupants, as they gathered closer to the fire.

Old friends these — friends of many years' stand- ing. Although Jabez Pryke had barely turned his five-and-twentieth year, while Jasper and his wife were approaching the meridian of life, Jabez remembered them as long as he could remember anything; for, when left an orphan, they had taken him home and brought him up, side by side with their own boy, the little fair-haired Jack ; and from that time forth the two lads loved one another, even as David and Jonathan.

Once, and only once, an interruption occurred to their friendship. Of course it was a woman, and the old story. They both loved the same woman. But Jael Hoyle loved Jack ; and no wonder, for he was a jovial, genial, good-looking, good-hearted lad, whom to look at was to love; while poor Jabez was gaunt, and gauche, and lantern- jawed, and looked twice his years. In truth, he had little or nothing about him to captivate a woman's eye, nothing but a heart

4 RACHEL DENE.

of gold ; but that was out of sight, and counted for little in the contest.

When he saw that the girl he loved loved his friend, he gulped down his sorrow and said nothing ; nay, more, he was best man at the wedding, and, despite the hidden wolf gnawing at his heart, he kept a stiff upper lip and a smiling face till the hard day's work was done, and he reached his little chamber, and was alone with his God and his great grief.

Bride and bridegroom went on a visit to Jack's uncle, the dalesman in Cumberland, for their humble honeymoon. When they came back, a week later, Jabez had left his old home for good and all.

It was a wrench, but the thing had to be done, and so the sooner it was done the better.

The day after the wedding he went up to the master of the mills.

Jacob Dene was a shrewd, observant man ; and when Jabez told him that he was bent on going to London to seek his fortune, Jacob soon learned the secret of his servant, and sympathized with him, remembering that he had once been young him- self.

In the end, Jabez did not go to London; he stayed at Deepdale, took up his quarters at the mills, became a trusted servant and faithful friend. Henceforth his lines were cast in pleasant places — that is, if any place could be pleasant to him without the lass he loved.

FOUND IN THE SNOW. 5

All is not gold that glitters, and she had perhaps done better had she married him instead of her graceless Jack.

Twelve months after the marriage, Jacob Dene's only son came home with his beautiful young wife. This gay and gallant youth was a captain in the fighting Forty-First.

He and Jack and Jabez had been playmates. It is true he had never cared much for Jabez, but Jack and he had played truant together, stolen bird's nests, and robbed orchards together in their boyhood, and when they met after some years' absence they fraternized as of old. Jacob was a rich man's son, and Jack was poor ; but they were made of the same stuff, and when the one was summoned to join his regiment, he had little difficulty in inducing the other to take the Queen's shilling, and accompany him over the sea.

They sailed the same day, and at the same hour, from Southampton for India, accompanied by their young wives.

That was two years past, and more.

Those were perilous times. The Oaks and Row- land Cottage heard regularly from the dear ones until the Mutiny broke out. Then tidings came fitfully, or came not at all.

At last came news which set every English heart on fire — news of the well of Cawnpore and the siege of Lucknow.

"It's strange," said Joan, " that we've no news of Jack or Jael."

6 RACHEL DENE.

" No news is good news, owd lass," cried her husband ; "so let us hope that Jack and his wife have got clear with a whole skin from those Injun cut-throats."

"Amen! " replied Jabez.

Then, for a time, they subsided into silence as they communed with their own sad thoughts. The old dame's heart sank within her when she thought that her boy might have fallen into the hands of the bloody Nana ; while Jabez conjured up in the fire a fair face and a pair of haunting, unforgotten eyes — a face which grew clearer and more distinct every moment.

At this very instant, when they heard, or thought they heard, nothing but the beating of their own hearts, the silence was broken by a low, soft wail from without.

" What's that ? " exclaimed Joan. " Hush ! "

Again the sound broke on the stillness, this time louder than before.

"The lantern — quick, the lantern ! " cried Jabez.

Without pausing, he rushed out, followed by Jasper and his wife.

Struggling through the snow, they reached the garden gate.

In front of it, face downwards, lay a woman, clad in a large woollen shawl and a dark, travel- stained dress ; a kerchief of vivid crimson from which her long dark hair had escaped streaming in abundance over her shoulders, was bound round her head.

FOUND IN THE SNOW. 7

Once more arose the soft, tender wail which had brought them forth. There was no mistake now from whence the sound came. There was something beneath the woman's shawl, something which breathed and stirred.

•' A child ! " exclaimed Joan.

*' The lantern, Jasper — the lantern ! " cried Jabez.

*' Here, lad— here ! "

Jabez climbed the gate, stooped, and, lifting the woman, turned her face to the light.

" My God ! Jael ! " he gasped.

" Jael— Jael ! "

For a moment the two men stood as if they were frozen to ice ; then the woman said, or, rather, shrieked, "What are you standing there for, you ? Standin' like blocks of stone, while my boy's wife and her bairn are freezin' to death ! Look alive — d'ye hear, d'ye hear? Gi' me t' lantern ! Tear t' gate up by t' roots, gin ye canna push it back ! "

Even as she spoke the two men tore the gate up, and plucked it forth from the snow, then laying the woman and the child upon it, they carried them to the cottage.

"Away wi' ye for five minutes," said Joan; ** this is a woman's business, not yourn. Stay ! Take t' mattress off t' bed, pillows, bolsters, and bring 'm here. Now t' sponge — t' panshion — mustard — hot water. That'll do; away ye go I »

8 RACHEL DENE.

When they returned from the kitchen, a quarter of an hour later, the child lay croodling on the hearth before the fire. The mother, pale and helpless, almost speechless, lay beside him.

" The doctor — send for the doctor, Jabez," cried Joan.

" Nay, mother," gasped Jael. ** I'm past doctor's help. I've reached the end of my journey, and am grateful to God that He has brought me here to die."

"But you'll no die, hinny; we'll not lot ye die — ye'U live, live for Jack's sake."

" I'm going to join him, mother."

" What ! my Jack dead ?— dead ! "

"Yes, mother, I saw him struck down before my very eyes at Lucknow, while trying to save young Jacob Dene from one of the murdering savages. He had only time to say, * Go home, take t' bairn to father and mother, and Jabez, and tell 'em to love him for poor Jack's sake.' And you see," she added faintly, " here I am with little Jack."

After a moment's pause, Jabez inquired tenderly, " And Lucy — Lucy Dene ? "

" The well— the well of Cawnpore ! " gasped the dying woman.

A thrill of horror passed through her listeners, and she herself fell back in an agony of past horror and present pain.

" The doctor, the doctor ! " again cried Joan.

"Never mind t' doctor," moaned the dying

SAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. g

woman. " Kiss mo, mother, father, kiss me. Jabez, won't you kiss me, too ? My poor lad used to say out yonder, Jabez, that if aught happened to him thou'dst be a feyther to little Jack."

She looked for a moment into the face of her faithful friend and lover ; then, smiling faintly as he bent and touched her forehead with his young lips, she sank back and died.

CHAPTER II.

BAD NEWS TEAVELS FAST.

As the distant bells of Deepdale rang in the Christmas Day, Jabez Pryke stood up on the snow- covered moorland, gazing down the valley towards the dark smoke-covered town and high buildings of the mills. He was quite alone, and remained for a long time like one in a dream. The winter morning was still and peaceful, the snow had ceased to fall, and the sky was quite light and clear. He had wandered thither before daybreak, to commune with his own sad thoughts.

So lonely and so pastoral was the scene, so devoid of all signs of life, that the solitary man might have been taken for a shepherd on some mountain far removed from men. On every side stretched the white moorland, rising up behind

10 RACHEL DENE.

Lim to hills of grass and heather, and strewn everywhere with rocks and boulders glistening moistly in the morning sun. To his left, half a mile away, flowed the river, thinly sheeted with glistening ice, and creeping silently down towards the mills, and between him and Dee^Ddale stood the cottage which contained the dead form of the only being he had ever loved.

Tall, gaunt, ungainly, with a thin, worn face, and sad, weary eyes, he looked much older than his years. His shoulders stooped habitually, as if under some heavy burthen, and, shepherd-like, he leaned upon a thick oaken staff ; indeed, though his life was spent in the busy whirl of manufacture, he had the brooding, wistful air of men who dwell constantly alone. He wore black to-day, an ill- fitting suit of broadcloth, and a black slouch hat was drawn down upon his brows.

When his hour of trial came, he had yielded up Jael Heywood with scarcely a visible sign of pain. It was not in the man's nature to parade either his joy or his grief. But he had wandered up to the moorland, as to-day, to the very spot where he now stood, and had his dark hour alone. How well he remembered it all ! It was summer then, and the moor was scented and alive ; but his heart was not less desolate and cold than on this weary wintry day.

Even in his utter desolation there was a strange sense of awe and rapture. She he loved was at peace with God ; she was God's only now, and all

BAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST, ii

bitterness "was over ; and, crowning grace of all, sbe bad died witli bis name upon lier lips, con- fiding to bis care ber little belpless cbild. Stand- ing tbere alone, and gazing on tbe roof beneatli wbicb sbe lay in deatb, Jabez swore tbat be would fulfil tbat sacred trust, and be a fatber to tbe little Jack.

At last, slowly and sadly, be turned bis steps towards Deepdale, toiling tbrougb tbe snow, and following tbe windings of tbe frozen river. Turn- ing aside before be readied tbe outskirts of tbe little town, wbere Heywood's cottage stood, be followed tbe road eastward till be came in sigbt of tbe old cburcb. He drew near tbe cburcbyard gate, and looked over upon God's acre, wbere bis beloved Jael was soon to lie. As be paused tbus a band was laid upon bis sboulder, and a cbeery voice greeted bim by name.

Turning, be saw tbe very man be was going to seek — Jobn Lyster, tbe vicar of Deepdale.

" A merry Cbristmas, Jabez ! Counting tbe tombstones, eb ? A cbeerless occupation, surely, for Cbristmas morning." Tben, startled by tbe expression on tbe young man's face, tbe vicar added, •' Is anytbing tbe matter ? "

" I bave bad news, sir," replied Jabez, gentlj'. " Jael Hey wood — our Jael, young Jack Heywood's wife — came back last nigbt from India."

" Impossible ! Came back, do you say ? "

"Ay, sir; came back — to die. We found ber fainting in t' snow, wi' ber little bairn, and — and —

12 RACHEL DENE.

she's lying yonder in lier father's cottage, waiting till they carry her to her last home."

Despite his habitual self-control, the man's voice was broken with sobs, and, leaning his head upon the gate, he moaned as if in mortal pain.

" Bad news, indeed ! " cried Mr. Lyster. " Poor Jael ! she was a pretty lass ! And that bright fellow, her husband — he "

As he spoke, Jabez lifted his head and looked full into his face, with a gaze so wild, so woebegone, that he knew at once that there was more to come. Then, in a few words, Jabez told him all the terrible tale which Jael had told with her dying lips, of the murderous work far away, of carnage, of horror, and the hideous well of Cawnpore.

" My child ! — my little Lucy ! " cried the vicar, hiding his face in his hands, and sobbing like a child.

It was his turn now to suffer, and, after a few more piteous words, he passed through the church- yard gate, and entered the church, to pass Ms dark hour there.

Sick at heart, Jabez Pryke walked on. His work was not yet done. He had to carry the sad news onward, and, though his heart sank within him, he would trust the task to no other man.

Following the road, he made the best of his way to the house of his master and employer, Jacob Dene, owner of the great Deepdale Mills. The Oaks, as it was called, was situated half a mile from the church and Vicarage, on an eminence juet

BAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. 13

beyond the outskirts of the little town. It was a new mansion, and took its name from the young trees which had been planted in front of its spacious garden.

Eeaching the iron gate, ho passed up a winding carriage path, and stood on the broad stone steps of the house — a plain, but spacious building, of no pretensions to architectural beauty. With a deep sigh, he rang the bell. A plainly dressed serving woman opened the door.

" Is t' master in ? " he asked.

" Yes, Mr. Pryke."

** And t' mistress ? " he added, thinking with a tremor of the tale he had to tell.

**Nay; mistress has just stepped out to see a sick lass i' the town."

Jabez stepped into the hall, and stood there bareheaded.

" Tell t' master I wish to see him."

The woman disappeared, and returning almost immediately, ushered Jabez into a large, plainly furnished study at the rear of the mansion, where a tall man in the prime of life sat reading ; a man with a square determined face and keen black eyes, but with lines of gentleness around his mouth. He looked up and nodded as the young man entered.

"Well, Jabez, what brings thee here on Christ- mas morning ? "

** Bad news, sir," was the reply.

•* Nothing wrong at the works, my lad ? "

14 RACHEL DENE,

''Nay, sir; worse than that. It's bad news from far away — something that concerns your son."

Jacob Dene rose to his feet, and saw, as the vicar had done, the shadow of the coming sorrow on the man's grief-stricken face.

" Speak out, man ! What is it ? No harm has come to him ? He is not — dead ? "

Jacob did not reply in words, but the look in his eyes was enough, and Jacob Dene staggered as if before a blow. Then the story was told, as before. Silently, without tears, but pale as death, Jacob Dene listened ; then, turning away his face, and gazing out through the window of the room, he motioned Jabez to leave him alone.

To understand the position of affairs, especially as it concerned the present head of the great Deepdale Mills, it will be necessary to go back a little.

The Denes had been settled at Deepdale since Jacob, first of that name, came back from America with William Penn, after having helped that astute man to found Pennsylvania.

Jacob Dene the first had been attracted to the beautiful Yorkshire valley by the bright eyes of Eachel Hunsden, a beautiful Yorkshire girl. When he married her, he settled down in the valley, and there the Denes had stayed from that day to this. Like the friend of the founder of the family, they had all been born and bred Quakers. Up to a hundred years ago they had all been

BAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. 15

farmers, but the Jacob (for the first-born lad was always a Jacob, as the first-born lass was always a Eachel) of that day became acquainted with Eichard Arkwright, took up his famous invention, and went into the spinning business ; and so from email beginnings were developed the great Deepdale Mills, and Dene, alpaca, subluna, and vecuna manufacturers, who traded all over the world. They employed several thousand hands, and the Deepdale Mills were the pride of all Yorkshire.

Every modern appliance and improvement had been brought to bear upon the manufactory for the good of employer and employed; while the little town itself, its church, its schools, its baths, its gardens, its college and park, were the envy and admiration of the country, and all broad England besides.

Jacob Dene, the present master of the mills, was an austere man ; but he was a large-hearted and liberal, and, in many respects, a modern idea'd man — possibly a little too modern idea'd — for he loathed the profession of arms as much as he detested capital punishment. Except hanging a man, he maintained that the worst use to which a man could be put was the occupation of cutting throats for hire. He was not one of those men who confine their interest in a subject to a merely theoretical view of it ; hence, upon a certain memorable occasion, he formed one of a deputa- tion who travelled to St. Petersburg to wait upon the Tsar for the purpose of beseeching the Autocrat

i6 RACHEL DENE.

of the North to refer some impending war to arbitration. As everybody knows, the Quaker and his fi'iends had their journey for nothing ; still, they had done their best, and no one can do better than that.

These being Jacob's views, it may readily be conceived that he was distressed beyond measure when his only son and heir, young Jacob Dene, in direct defiance of the family traditions, became a soldier. Nor were matters much mended when he espoused Lucy Lyster, the vicar's pretty but penniless daughter.

True, poor Lucy was as good as she was beauti- ful ; but the Denes had always married money and land, and when there was neither one nor the other, it widened the breach. And so, when they parted, and the last " good-bye " was said, although there was no bad blood 'twixt son and sire, there was some coldness between them, and more between Jacob Dene and the vicar of Deepdale.

The truth was, Jacob thought that the vicar had been too facile and compliant a father, and that, in point of fact, he had planted his penniless daughter upon the wealthy heir of the Deepdale Mills. Never was there a graver mistake, or a greater injustice. The young couple loved each other, and all the fathers and mothers in the world would have been powerless to have kept them apart.

As the reader already knows, when Captain Dene went out to India with his young wife, Jasper

SAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. iy

Heywood's son Jack and his wife Jael sailed with them.

It was a heavy day at Deepdale when these young people left their native valley. Jacob Dene seemed hard and self-contained, and bade them a cold good-bye ; but many days elapsed before he returned to himself. When the poor mother loses her only son, the blow falls as heavily in the palace as the cottage, and Susanna Dene bewailed her boy as much as Joan Hey wood bewept hers.

Jabez Pryke, who suffered most of all, kept his sorrow to himself. He and the vicar accompanied the young people to Southampton to see the last of them ; and from that time forth the lonely man and the lonely parson (for Mr. Lyster was a widower) were firm friends. The latter had in- stinctively divined Jabez's secret, and sympathized with his grief and self-abnegation.

Jabez Pryke left the master of the mills to brood over the terrible story which Jael Heywood had brought from Lucknow. The master of the mills remained for a long time silent, as a man trans- fixed to stone. Two hours later, however, he went down to the Vicarage. Extending his hand to his quondam enemy, he said —

" Friend, thou hast heard."

" The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord," replied the vicar.

"I have tried to school myself to say so," returned the millionaire, **but I cannot as yet;

0

i8 RACHEL DENE.

my heart was ever rebellious. It runs in the blood of the Denes. Well, I am justly punished. We are two childless old men ; those whom we loved have been taken from us, and have left no sign that they ever lived. It is hard to bear. Let us not make it harder still by enmity. Canst thou forgive me ? " The vicar grasped his hand in silence, and no more was said ; but from that time forth all was forgotten and forgiven.

When it was known at church time that little Jack and his mother had been found in the snow over night, outside Heywood's cottage, the whole valley was alive. Foremost among the visitors to the chamber of death were the vicar, Jacob Dene, and Susanna his wife. Over that scene of common suffering we will draw a veil.

Every one wondered how poor Jael had ever reached Deepdale. Subsequent inquiries served to Bhow that the Government had provided for her passage to England, and that, on her arrival, although enfeebled by disease and privation, she persisted in pressing onwards to her native valley ; that when she arrived at Barford, unable to obtain a conveyance, she started forth to walk, was over- taken by the snowstorm, and fell death-stricken on the very threshold of her own old home.

As Jacob Dene gazed on the infant boy, who, all unmindful of his loss, lay crowing in his grandam's arms, he thought that he would have given all the wealth of Deepdale to have had a flower like that blossoming in his childless home.

( ^9 )

CIIAPTEE III.

LITTLE EACHEL.

Time speedily confirmecl the doleful tidings brought by Jael Heywood to Deepdale that memorablo winter night. Full details arrived ere long, and there could no longer be any doubt that young Captain Dene had fallen at the moment of the relief of Lucknow, and Lucy his wife was among the victims at Cawnpore. As they read the horrible record, both Jacob Dene and John Lyster forgot their gentle creed ; the one remembered no longer that he was a clergyman, the other that he was a Quaker. They felt only, in that supreme hour of sorrow, that they were fathers and Englishmen.

Their hands clenched, their eyes flashing fire, they stood together outside the churchyard, where poor Jael was now peacefully asleep.

The vicar exclaimed, " These things must not be thought of, but they make men mad ! "

"Not thought of?" echoed the master of the mills. "Not thought of? I can think of naught but thy poor child, my boy's wife. Had I been there ! had I been there ! "

" Had we both been there ! "

Then the clergyman said something very un- canonical, and parson and Quaker, after wringing each other's hands, strode off in opposite direc- tions to walk their agony away. Women, however,

20 RACHEL DENE.

cannot relieve their pent-up sorrows in the manner of strong men ; they can only suffer and endure. In silence and alone, the poor bereaved mother, Susanna Dene, mourned the loved ones whose loss had made her home so desolate !

In that terrible hour of England's ghastly vic- tory, when horror was piled on horror, and every day brought fresh news of victory blended with calamity, the cries of grief and agony were echoed in a thousand English homes. The nation, like Christian in the fable, was passing through the very Valley of the Shadow of Death. Little wonder, indeed, that men forget their magnanimity, and women their faith in God, before the spectacle of such tribulation. Justice was shaken on her throne; Mercy, like an avenging angel, changed her nature and waved the bloody dagger of re- venge, and wherever the English tongue was spoken rose one common shriek demanding retribution.

Nature, ever heedless of the fitful and unreason- ing strife of man, continued her secret ministra- tions, and drew over the graves of many dead her coverlet of grass and flowers. The winter had passed away, and spring blew her windy clarion on the hills. Where snow had lain on the broad upland moors, the thyme and heather waved, and the air hummed with sounds of joyful life.

One Saturday afternoon in early summer, Jabez, the overseer, left the mills, and, going along with the stream of men and women homeward bound,

LITTLE RACHEL. 2i

made his way to the cliurcliyarcl, to gaze, as was his constant custom, on the grave of poor Jacl. Work was over for the day, and the folk were swarming like bees out of a hive. Elderly men gathered in groups, lads went along arm in arm, lasses laughed and flirted with their sweethearts, and above the hum of stronger voices rose the clear cries of children. Jabez heard nothing, heeded no one ; his thoughts were far away. Leaving the throng behind him, he strolled into the churchyard.

He knew the grave among all the rest. It lay in the sunny corner of the churchyard, and early spring flowers, crocus and anemone, had already been placed there by his hands. He stood for a long time looking down upon it, and thinking of the fragile form that slept below. At last, passing his hand across his dim eyes, he loft the grave, and regained the open road.

Again he followed the road up towards the moor, and, after half an hour's walk, stood among the upland grass and heather and looked back at Deepdale. Sad and grief-worn as he was, his spirit was now quite at peace. Fresh from the stress of work and life, he enjoyed his own loneliness and that of the beautiful scene surrounding him.

Many a time, he remembered, he had wandered hither with Jael, he a tall, ungainly lad, she a bright, laughing girl. Both were too young to think of love, but he, the elder, felt something Btirring in his heart which was to ripen in time to

22 RACHEL DENE.

tender passion. He had followed his little play- mate like her shadow, he had obeyed like a slave the slightest waving of her hand ; and then — and then, afterwards, had come the knowledge that it was all hopeless, and that the light in her young eyes, the love in her young heart, was not for Mm ! Well, it was all over; and his love still lived, though Jael was dead. He would not have had it otherwise. He felt, that still spring morning, that were his life to be lived again, he would not change it. She had trusted him even unto death. She had left him her last blessing, and the care of her little child.

As he turned to stroll homeward he heard the sound of carriage wheels, and looking backward he saw an open waggonette coming slowly along the road which winds from distant Barford across the moor. In Deepdale every one knew his neigh- bour, and Jabez saw at a glance that the occupants of the vehicle were strangers. Behind the driver sat a lady of middle age, with a face worn but beautiful, and by her side, looking eagerly out at the prospect, stood a little dark-haired boy of three or four. Opposite to her sat a black woman, clad in the familiar costume of an Indian ayah, and holding in her arms an infant child.

As Jabez stood on the roadside, the carriage approached nearer. The sight of the Indian woman sent the thought at once to India, and called up the picture of wild scenes and terrible events.

LITTLE RACHEL, 23

"Who can they be ?" thought Jabez ; when, at a word from the lady, the waggonette drew up, and a clear, musical voice said —

" Do you belong to Deepdale ? "

Jabez looked up, met the lady's gaze, and touched his hat respectfully.

"Yes, my lady. I work in 't mill. I'm overseer to Mr. Dene."

The lady stood up in the carriage, shading her eyes, and gazing towards the little town ; then, glancing down again, she continued —

"I am going there — to the Vicarage. Can you direct me to it ? "

" Nay, you can't miss it," replied Jabez. "Follow t' road, and keep straight on past t' church, and you'll see t' house before ye." He added quickly, before she could sign to the driver to go on, " Maybe you come from India ? "

" Yes," replied the lady, with some surprise.

" I thought so," said the overseer, glancing at the Indian nurse. "Maybe, too, my lady, you knew t' young captain. Master Dene's son?"

" I knew him well," replied the lady. " He was an officer in my husband's regiment, and he fell at Lucknow during the siege. He died side by side with my husband. Colonel Hollis, of the Forty- First."

"And his wife, my lady — his poor wife — be it true, as we ha' heard, that she be dead too ? "

Mrs. Hollis looked in surprise at the rough fellow in his working clothes, who, as he spoke, stretched

24 RACHEL DENE.

out his bands in agitation, and trembled witb sympatby.

" It is quite true," sbe answered sadly. " That is wby I bave come bere. I am bringing bome ber cbild."

As sbe glanced at tbe infant in tbe ayab's arms, Jabez climbed up on tbe step bebind tbe vebicle, and followed tbe direction of ber eyes. Tbe cbild, a beautiful infant of only a few montbs old, was sleeping peacefully in its nurse's lap.

" Did you know Captain Dene ? " asked Mrs. Hollis, gently.

" Ay, my lady, I knew bim well ; and bis wife, too, poor lass, poor lass! And tbis be tbeir bairn? Wonderful — wonderful ! Brougbt bome like t' baby boy, tbe cbild o' our poor Jael."

Tbe lady noticed witb surprise tbat bis eyes, full of tears, looked witb infinite regret and tender- ness upon tbe infant, wbile bis lips murmured Bometbing tbat sounded like a blessing. Tbe next moment be leapt down, and stood barebeaded in tbe road, watcbing tbe waggonette as it drove on. Tbe lady looked back and nodded. Jabez waved bis band. Tbe little boy, leaning over tbe back of tbe carriage, watcbed bim and laugbed.

" Wonderful ! wonderful ! " muttered tbe over- * seer to bimself, as be followed tbem down tbe road. " Two bairns come bome out o' t' cruel war — Captain's little daughter, and Jael's little Jack. Minds me o' t' flowers new-blowing on t'

LITTLE RACHEL. 2$

poor lass's grave i' the cliurcbyard ! Well, ^vcll, out o' death comes life, as parson says."

Before Jabez Pryke could carry his news home to the Heywoods, Mrs. Hollis had reached the Vicarage and had told her story to Mr. Lyster. She was the widow, as the reader has already heard, of Colonel Hollis, the commanding officer of the fighting Forty-First. The boy who accom- panied her was her only son. The baby girl, already christened Eachel, was the child of Captain Jacob Dene, and Lucy Lyster his wife, brought back to England in accordance with a sacred pledge given to the poor mother before she died. That fragile snowdrop was all that remained to attest that the young soldier and his wife had ever been.

While the vicar, divided between joy and sorrow, held his little grandchild in his arms, Jabez Pryke, half a mile away, was bending over little Jack, and Jasper and Joan Heywood looked on in wonder and delight. Before the life that comes, the life that is buried becomes forgotten, and all they saw now was the light in the eyes of the boy poor Jael had left behind.

*' Mother, look ! " cried Jabez, holding out his forefinger to the crowing boy. ** Isna t' bairn t' living image o' poor Jael ? God bless him and gie him good luck for her sake ! "

" Amen to that, Jabez," responded Joan. " And t' little one you saw up yonder — poor Miss Lucy's lass — does she favour her mother, too ? "

26 RACHEL DENE.

" Nay, mother, I knew not. She were just like a white snowdrop blooming on t' black wench's heart. I had naut but a glimpse, but she seemed as pretty as God makes little childer."

There was a long pause ; then Joan said, with a look of tender inspiration, "Little lass and little lad! Suppose t' Lord, by-and-by, should bring they two together ! "

Jasper Heywood, seated in his armchair, and lighting his pipe, looked up and grinned.

"There thou art, mother! At it again, like all t' women ! They'd ha' marrying and wedding among bairns i' the cradle, if they had their foolish way, wouldn't they, Jabez ? Why, woman alive, little lass, yonder, will grow up a proud lady, while little Jack here will ha' to work wi' his hands like you and me."

Jabez answered, still looking gently at the child, * Maybo, maybe ! " But, God willing, and you two helping, t' little man shall ha' learning, and maybe he'll grow up a gentleman, after all."

Before many hours had passed the news had spread all over the place, and formed the only theme of that Saturday half-holiday. It was discussed at every fireside, and many another single woman, as if to illustrate Jasper Heywood's estimate of the sex, uttered some such prophesy, or forethought, as that expressed by Joan.

Meantime, in the natural course of things, word of Mrs. Hollis's arrival had been passed from the Yicarage up to the Oaks. First to hear it, in her

\ I'

LITTLE RACHEL. 27

husband's absence, was Susannah Dene. Her carriage was at the door, and away she drove at once till she reached the Vicarage ; then, leaving her years behind her, she sprang out, and rushing into the house, descended with tears and cries, and inarticulate expressions of delight, upon her grandchild.

She introduced herself, sans ceremonie, to Mrs. Hollis — made love to little Ealph, and friends even with the aj^ah.

Then nothing would do but the vicar, Mrs. Hollis, the boy, the ayah, and the baby must come at once to the Oaks, where Jacob Dene was now to be found.

At sight of his son's child the stern man burst into tears. When at length an eventful evening came to an end, the vicar could not find it in his heart to deprive Mrs. Dene of the child, who took up her abode henceforth at the Oaks, to become the heiress of the Denes.

Although the scion of a noble house, Mrs. HolKs was a lonely woman, for her brother-in-law, the Earl of Beauchamp, had been very much opposed to her marriage with his brother Ealph. She, therefore, wisely accepted an offer to keep house thenceforth for the vicar, which was a sensible arrangement for everybody concerned, inasmuch as she contributed three hundred pounds a year towards Mr. Lyster's slender income, and found a home for herself and her fatherless boy.

The weft of life is ever woven with the warp of

28 RACHEL DENE.

sorrow; the one serves to accentuate the other with a keener pleasure, or a deeper pain. Thence there was joy in Deepdale that the poor siege- children lived, and sorrow that their parents had died ; but the joy abided, and the sorrow in time was forgotten by all, save the one faithful heart which bewailed now, as it would bewail for ever, the lost love of his youth.

But, although he sorrowed, Jabez, the overseer, did not sorrow without hope. He had now some- thing to live for — Jack's child henceforth the child of his adoption.

As for the Denes and the vicar, their dead children lived again in the little Eachel.

CHAPTEE IV.

TWO LADS AND A LASS.

Do you know Deepdale ? Do you know the splendid Yorkshire valley, surrounded on every side by green or heathery hills, watered by a rapid river, and bearing in its bosom the cleanest and happiest of little manufacturing towns? If you have ever passed that way, down the open moor- land, into the clean, carefully-kept streets, past the great many-windowed, many-chimneyed mills, among the cottages and well-tended gardens, from the church to the Vicarage, from the Vicarage to

TIVO LADS AND A LASS. a^

the fine home of the mills' master, you will under- staDd how Eachel Dene, as she grew up, learned to love the place and its people, and to think there was no such pleasant home in all the world.

It was the boast of Jacob Dene that his con- nection with the place and people was quite patriarchal. He had made it, and kept it, what it was, a model for the world. The thriftless, the idle, the vicious, and the depraved drifted away from Deepdale like scum from the lips of a summer sea; they were out of place there, and found no congenial associations. Industry, cleanliness, and sobriety were the order of the day. The old Quaker saw to it all. He would have no vagabonds among his people. He was kind and liberal to those who set a good example, but stern to the undeserving.

Through the centre of this Arcadian valley, up through the waving moorland, Eachel Dene rode one summer day, in company with Ralph Hollis — she upon a high-mettled and slender little cob, ho upon an almost thoroughbred mare. They had been cantering and trotting along for a couple of hours, full of high spirits, health, and youth ; for Eachel was now nineteen, and Ealph only a few years older.

They were following a bridle-path along the river-side, and walking their horses, whilst they kept up an animated conversation.

"How pretty it looks!" cried the girl, gazing from her saddle on the sunny scene around her.

30 RACHEL DENE.

"I think there is no place in the world half so beautiful."

"A pity, is it not," returned Ealph, "that it is disfigured by the smoke and dirt of the dingy mills ? I hate manufactures and manufacturing places."

"Nay, there thou art wrong," said Eachel, in the quaint Quaker phraseology she had learnt from her grandfather, and which so well became her pretty lips. " I love the mills and the town best of all. Think how many mouths the mills feed, how many happy homes they make ! They're like a kind, hard-working mother to us all ! "

The young man laughed somewhat con- temptuously.

"I don't understand that kind of sentiment. The place, as such places go, is well enough, no doubt ; but I confess I love more gaiety and more life. Deepdale is so dismal and so dull. Even on Sundays the people look begrimed as troglodytes living in the bowels of the earth, and the women work so hard it makes them ill-favoured."

Eachel laughed and shook her head.

"There we diifer again," she answered. "I often think — 'tis foolish, but very true — that if I hadn't been my father's daughter, I would have loved to toil hard, and be one of the peoi^le."

"A worker in the mills ! Fancy you dressed in homespun like a mill-girl! Fancy you being courted like a mill-girl by some fellow with coarse bands and coarser speech ! "

Eachel flushed, and cried, "I was not talking

TJVO LADS AND A LASS. 31

of courtship, sir ! But I would not care for a man's bands if his heart were clean ! "

As she spoke she started, and flushed a deeper red. Approaching her along the river-side was a figure she knew well, that of a lad of about her own age, clad in a rough working suit, and carr}'- ing a fishing-rod and a small creel.

** 'Tis Jack Heywood ! " she exclaimed.

" So it is," answered Ealph, with the slightest shade of a frown. " Shirking his work, and angling — profitable occupation ! "

Eachel beckoned, and Jack came up smiling. He was a fresh, hearty-looking lad, strong and erect, with a look of self-reliance. He lifted his hat to the riders, and stood looking eagerly at Eachel.

" I have got an afternoon's holiday," he said, ** and am trying my luck with the fly ; but the sun is too bright for angling."

** Are you all well at home ? "

" Yes, Miss Rachel."

*' I must come over soon, and see thy grand- mother. Thou knowest. Jack, thou and I ar^j almost like brother and sister — the two siege- bairns, as the people call us, for the same trouble left us both in the world alone."

" Shall we get on ? " said Ealph, impatiently. *' Isly mare is restless."

Eachel nodded, and, with a light look and nod at Jack, rode on with her companion. Scarcely had they ridden out of earshot when Ealph, bending

32 RACHEL DENE.

towards her, said, with a short laugh, "There's one of your hard-handed ones. Do you not thank your good fortune that you are so different ? "

*' Nay, indeed," answered Eachel, with a look of surprise. " My grandfather tells me that Jack is the cleverest boy in Deepdale ! "

"Jack! That's familiar."

*' And why not ? I almost feel as if he were my brother. We are both motherless and fatherless, and our lots are so much alike."

" I hope they are very different."

'* And we were friends when children. Thou, too, wast his friend. Thou hast a right to like him."

*' So I do, in his way ; but his way is not mine, Eachel. Look at the mare, how she pricks her ears ; she thinks I am speaking of her. Come, shall we cross the moor, and gallop ? "

Eachel nodded, and leaving the roadside, they came to a stretch of grass and heather, and hastened along side by side.

The years had come and gone, until some nine- teen had passed away. Eachel had entwined herself round the hearts of the mill-owner and his wife until she had become the light and life of their desolate home. Nor was she less dear to the old vicar — for she reminded him of the wife and of the daughter he had lost. The same doves' eyes, the same sunny hair, the same fairy-like elastic figure, the same laugh, the very voice — came back again.

T^VO LADS AND A LASS. 33

Ealpli HoUis had grown into a strikingly hand- some young man, of bright but unstable parts, and petulant temper. He was an apt pupil when the mood took him — but he was wayward and fractious — and somewhat trying to his over-indulgent tutor and his doting mother. This lad might be led, but never driven. Of all his circle of acquaintances, the one who could lead him the easiest was Eaehel Dene, who reigned over him, even as she reigned at the Oaks, with autocratic, but benevolent sway.

As the years grew with her growth — the two old men — her father's father and the father of her mother — loved the girl more and more — while in her young and innocent delight, the poor mother's youth lived again. At first, indeed, they had loved the child because she reminded them of the loved and lost. As the years progressed, they loved her for herself — not because she was by any means a paragon, but simply because she was true, and simple, and honest, and because she loved them deeply in return.

She was not a young person of advanced culture or remarkable beauty. Her accomplishments were of quite an ordinary character ; but, take her all in all, she was adorable, as only a pretty Quakeress can be. Her fiigure was slender, straight, and well balanced, giving indications that at its maturity it would leave little to be desired in the way of symmetry. Her complexion was pale, but transparent as alabaster ; and when her heart or emotions were touched, her cheeks flushed a

D

34 RACHEL DENE.

pearl-like pink, wliicli quickened into loveliness. Her head was crowned with a wreath of hair which Bhimmered from lightest brown into ripest gold; square brow, dark eyebrows, and dark lashes ; eyes grey ; short, straight nose, with the slightest suspicion of a tip-tilt at the end ; ripe rosy lips, and a firm set chin, which seemed to indicate that, should the emergency arise, she miglit have a will of her own.

The emergency had not arisen as yet.

She it was who wrote the paternal grandpa's letters — wrote them, too, in a good, round, read- able hand, none of your feeble Italian scrawls. She it was who took grandma's tea up every morning, and relieved her of the cares of house- keeping ; who visited the sick, and relieved the needy of the valley ; assisted the maternal grandpa at Sunday school and Dorcas Society; and who, in point of fact, played Lady Bountiful Junior in Deepdale.

Not that her life was monopolized by these duties, for she had a notion that life was pleasant, and that the world was beautiful, and she enjoyed the spring-time of both. She it was who induced the old people to open their doors, and their hearts, to their friends ; and it was astonishing how much pleasanter the Denes found it than shutting them- selves up in their former insular exclusiveness.

As for Ealph Hollis, the master of the mills felt bound to do something for the lad, if only because his mother had brought, almost out of the jaws of

nVO LADS AND A LASS. 35

death, the angel who made Jacob's home happy. Mrs. HolHs wanted to send the boy for a term or two to Oxford, but considerations of expense inter- vened. Jacob had had enough of Oxford ; he had sent his own boy there, with the result already described. No; he would put Ealph into the counting-house. '

" The rest," he said, *' would depend on himself."

" The rest " is a vague phrase, which might mean anything or nothing. It might, however, mean a partnership in the firm. Perchance — who knew ? — a marriage with the heiress of Deepdale !

In the end, the mother concluded to let Ealph go to the counting-house, not, it is feared, to that young gentleman's delight, nor very much, in the long run, to Jacob Dene's satisfaction.

Jack Heywood was a horse of another colour, both figuratively and literally. Ealph was dark, and somewhat saturnine ; Jack was fair and frank, with sunny hair and laughing eyes, eyes of English blue. Ealph was slender, elegant, and taU ; Jack was equally tall, but he was stalwart, and, for his age, was the best swimmer, oarsman, rider, leaper, runner, cricket-player, boxer, and wrestler in the valley of Deepdale or the West Eiding. Ealph was indolent ; Jack was industrious. Ealph was a great smoker, and fond, already too fond, of his wine ; Jack detested the smell of tobacco, and did not care for wine. Ealph, like Eob Eoy, despised " weavers, and spinners, and a' sic mechanical persons." Jack was a born inventor, and proud

36 RACHEL DENE.

of his craft. Ealph disliked books ; Jack liked them. He had learnt all that Jabez could teach him of mechanics, and had now left his master behind. Not that he was a book-worm — not the least little bit.

Having enumerated their points of divergence, it is satisfactory to note one or two points on which these lads agreed. They both had a passion for horses — all Yorkshiremen have. Ealph had a horse of his own, or, rather, a mare, which he called after Eachel; and a beauty she was, as indeed she ought to be, considering the price she cost Mrs. Hollis. Jack had picked up a rough- looking cob at Wakefield horse fair for five or six pounds, and had groomed him to such perfection, that Jabez, as he called him, ran Eachel very hard whenever he got the chance. Finally, both lads were unanimous in their admiration for Eachel Dene.

Mrs. Hollis had but one object in life — to seo her son happy, beloved, admired. To her, he was everything. In him her dead husband, the lover of her youth, lived again. A mother's love blinded her to his faults, and, as we have hinted, they were many.

To be just to the lad, he was devoted to her beyond all things, but he was wrong-headed and strong-headed. Moreover, he was a little im- patient at his lot in life. He thought it hard that he, the heir-apparent to an earldom — for his uncle Algernon; though on the shady side of sixty, was

TIVO LADS AND A LASS. 37

still a bachelor — should be condemned to a seat in the counting-house, instead of one in the House of Lords. The thought of Eachel, however, curbed his impatience, and he did his best to fulfil his duties, though it must be admitted that bad was his best.

There was another mother who also kept watch and ward over her boy. I have said " another mother " advisedly, for as Jack approached man- hood Joan saw in him the image of her dead son ; and as he grew day by day more like her first-born, he found in her all a mother's care, she in him a son's devotion.

He had his way in everything, however. He was just as honest, tender, and true, and just as petulant and as pugnacious as his father had been before him. Jasper Heywood, too, was as proud of the lad as he had been of his own son Jack. As for Jabez, we have already referred to the pure, unselfish devotion of this single-minded, simj^le fellow for his dead sweetheart's son.

Meanwhile, while Ealph smoked, drank, and idled. Jack worked and learnt. At fourteen he was put on to assist his grandfather in looking after the machinery at the mills ; for Jasper was a practical engineer, and foreman in his depart- ment.

Now, Jack had a positive genius for mechanics of every description. In twelve months' time there was not a bolt, a bar, a pin, a spring, a strap, that he had not mastered the mystery of ; while as for

38 RACHEL DENE.

steam-power, hydraulics, electricity, and cliemistry, he had them at his fingers' ends.

From childhood he had been a visitor at the great house. He and Eachel and Ealph had played together as if they had been brothers and sister — that is to say, up to a certain period. At last " the pale spectrum of the salt " began to cast a shadow between them. Ealph was a born gentle- man, the son of a distinguished officer ; Eachel was born a lady, daughter of a man of fortune; she was, moreover, an heiress. Jack was the son of a private soldier ; moreover, he was a mechanic, a man doomed to live by the sweat of his brow and the work of his hands. So, for that matter, he reflected sometimes, was Eichard Arkwright, and so was Eobert Stephenson.

Jabez was wont to say, "Dreams, my lad — idle dreams."

" Let me dream while I may, Jabez," the lad replied. '* Perhaps I shall wake "^ome day and find myself famous, and then you'll be proud of your pupil."

" I shall always be proud of him. Jack, and when you are a great man you'll still find a corner in your heart for the old folk and Jabez ? "

"Always, Jabez," cried the boy, with his mother's eyes.

Left alone on the roadside, young Heywood Btood watching the form of Eachel until it disap- peared. Then he threw down his fishing-rod and

A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS. 39

sat down in a brown study, looking at the stream. No more fishing for liim that day. He was him- self in too deep water.

Though only a lad of nineteen, he looked some years older, and he had all the manners and appearance of a man.

" They may come to favour each other some day," Joan had said -when he was an infant, speaking of himself and little Kachel ; and part, at least, of the prediction had come to pass. Ho was as hopelessly in love as ever boy could be with Eachel Dene.

" Brother and sister ? " he muttered, echoing her words and shaking his curly head. Then he looked down at his coarse dress and hard, toil- worn hands, and felt quite hopeless and despairing. He might have been comforted a little had he known how eagerly Eachel, just before they met, had been discoursing to her companion, with "coarse hands " for a text.

CHAPTER V.

A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS.

It was a lovely summer afternoon, and there was a lawn-tennis party at the Oaks, to which some of the young people of the neighbourhood had been invited.

Of course, Ealph Hollis and his mother were

40 RACHEL DENE.

there, and the vicar and his curate; then there were Jack Vipont, the squire's son, fresh from Oxford, and his sister Julia ; young Eaggett, the civil engineer ; and Wilkinson, the solicitor. Besides these, Ealph had got invitations for Captain Fitzherhert, and two or three of the officers of his father's old regiment, the fighting Forty-First, who happened to be quartered at Barford, hard by. The young man was great friends with these curly plungers — dined at mess with them, and afterwards adjourned to the rooms of some of the younger blood to play baccarat or poker.

They were having a pleasant time of it that afternoon, when Jack Heywood, accompanied by his grandfather and Jabez Pryke, called by ap- pointment to show Jacob Dene a new invention which was to revolutionize the manufacture of alpaca.

The interview took place in the great man's Btudy, and Jabez was the first spokesman.

"It be most all Jack's work. Jasper and I helped him a bit, but he worked the idea out for hissen mostly. The lad's a born talent for using cogs and wheels. Jack, show Mr. Dene how the machine works."

Jack blushed, and did as he was bid,

" Thou art a boy," said the Quaker. " 'Tis but a boy's work, after all."

" We must all be boys sometime," replied Jabez, laughing. " Jack here's one in a thousand, master.

A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS, 41

We're both born fools to him, Jasper, his grand- fey ther, and me ! "

Jacob inspected the model, and hummed and haa'd as Jack put it in motion.

<' Very ingenious indeed ! And what dost thou calculate will be the nett result of this pretty

toy ? "

"Only an economy of labour and material amounting to about cent, per cent. — that is all ! " replied the lad, sturdily.

"Thou art reckoning thy chickens, lad, before they're hatched," replied the old Quaker.

" Perhaps so, sir ; but I'm going to try to hatch 'em somewhere or other."

" Well, send the model to my office at the mills, and we'll see what we can do with it in the course of a few months."

"Beg pardon, sir," answered Jack, "but I can't do that. It has to go to town to-morrow to be registered at the Patent Office, and thence to the Manchester Exhibition."

" Thou art a self-reliant youth ! " said Jacob Dene, astonished.

"I've no one but myself to rely on, sir; and I've been taught to believe that God helps those who help themselves."

" That's true. Well, since thou art here, thou hadst best come round to the lawn, and see thy old playfellow, Piachel. Thou knowest she's always glad to see thee."

Jack was not so sure of that. He knew that

42 RACHEL DENE.

there was a time when Eachel was really glad to see him, but that time was past and gone. Yet, after all, if the invention were to strike fire ? Ah, if it were ?

Jacob chatted pleasantly enough as he led the way to the lawn-tennis ground. Jack's face flushed, as ripples of laughter and pleasant sounds broke upon his ear ; above all, when he heard one voice, the voice he could tell out of a thousand.

The sight was pleasant enough to look at. Twenty or thirty young people of both sexes loafed about without formality, chatting or flirting as the case might be ; some playing at tennis on the lawn, others disporting themselves amongst the greenery and flowers in shrubbery or summer- houses. The girls, in their quaint Kate Green- away dresses and straw hats, lightened up here and there with a brilliant bunch of ribbons ; the young men in their flannels of vivid and varied colours, sashes, canvas shoes, and straw hats.

How bright, and simple, and natural, and unaffected it all seemed ; and yet, as Jack Heywood looked at it, what a gulf intervened between him and every one else there !

He stood alone on the edge of the lawn, look- ing at the play, while his graudsire and Jabez approached, with difiidence, to pay their respects to Mrs. Dene, who was in an arbour dispensing afternoon tea.

Within a stone's throw of Jack, with their backs turned to him, stood a young couple, talking

A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS. 43

together. He had no need to see their faces to tell him who they were.

"Eachel," said the youth, "you are coming to dine at the Yicarage to-morrow ? "

"I suppose so," she replied indifferently.

" Don't say * suppose.' You will come."

** Grandpa has promised."

" I'm glad of that. You know that to-morrow is my birthday ? "

"Yes."

"I shall be one and twenty. May I speak to Mr. Dene ? "

"■ Of course thou mayst speak to him," she replied simply.

" Don't say * of course ' in that cold-blooded way. You know what I want to speak to him about."

" About going into the army, I suppose ? But you must not ! "

*' Confound the army ! I want to speak to him about you. You won't understand me ! Surely, you must feel — you must know, that I can't live without you."

At this moment the ball came whizzing past them, and as Ealph turned in the effort to stop it, he came face to face with Jack Heywood.

" Hallo, Heywood ! " he said, with the slightest shade of pique in his voice. " What the deuce brings you here ? "

" My legs," replied Jack, laughing.

Rachel, too, laughed at the reply, as she shook hands with the young workman.

44 RACHEL DENE.

At this moment the game finished.

" Wilt thou stand in with me for the next game ? " inquired Eachel, with a smile.

"Nay," answered Jack; "I don't play tennis. If it were cricket, now "

"Ah, if it were ! I've seen thee hold the wicket against all comers,"

"Eachel, may I bring you a cup of tea?" inquired Ealph, nervously.

" Nay, thanks ; I'm going to take tea with Mr. Heywood. Come along " (Jack, she was going to say, but she thought better or worse of it), — " come along, Mr. Heywood," she continued, "and grand- ma will be glad to see thee. And how is the wonderful invention getting on ? "

As they approached Mrs. Dene and her al fresco tea-table, Ealph turned angrily away towards his mother, who was dispensing tea, and more sub- stantial refreshments, at the opposite end of the lawn.

Watching her opportunity, she whispered, " Well, have you made the most of your opportunities, Ealph?"

" I have ; but she holds me on, and keeps me o£f, until I feel inclined to throw it up altogether."

"Foolish boy ! Throw up ten thousand a-year, and the prettiest girl in Yorkshire ! "

"It's of no use; I can't get her to come to the point. Just as we were coming to cues, up comes that lout of a Jack Heywood, and she declares on to him immediately, leaving me in the lurch."

A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS. 45

" You can't suppose that she has any proclivities in that direction ? "

" I don't know. One would think not, for she is of gentle blood on both sides, while he belongs to the scum ; but women are so confoundedly foxy."

** Methinks a gentleman might remember," said the widow, severely, "that his mother is a woman."

" Of course he does. You don't suppose that he thinks his mother is a man ? "

*'No; but he sometimes forgets that his father was a gentleman, and that he owes something to his father's name."

Kalph laughed, and kissed her.

"Forgive me, you old darling; but I'm riled, and when I'm riled I'm forgetful even of what I owe to the best of mothers."

"Ah, Ralph, Ealph," she said, "you don't know how I love you ! "

" Yes, I do, mother ; but I suppose I inherit my father's temper as well as his name. So bear with me, for dad's sake."

While this conversation was going on at one end of the lawn, at the other, Jasper, Jabez, and Jack were being patronized by tho world in general — that is to say, by everybody but the Denes.

The three men were in their Sunday go-to- meeting get-up, and in their dark rustic clothes and stove-pipe hats looked singularly out of place amongst these gay young people, in their airy and

46 RACHEL DENE.

graceful costumes. To be sure, Mrs. Dene put them a bit at their ease. To her, Jack was still Jack, Jabez was Jabez, and Jasper, Jasper.

A muster of young men and women declared on to Kachel. She was obliged to be civil to everybody. So once more poor Jack found himself alone, chewing the cud of pleasant memories — memories which served to deepen the bitterness of his present loneliness. He recalled the time when, as children, they went out bird's-nesting ; the time, too, when Burnside Beck was swollen, and the plank bridge broken down. Had he not carried her on his back, breast-high, through the water ? Had they not rolled and romped in the new-mown hay when bairns ? And once, while still children, and beyond the eyes of the prudish Jacob, had she not called him out at kiss-in-the-ring ? That virgin kiss was still burning on his lips, while she had become a great lady, and he was only a poor operative.

Ralph, too, who used to be a bright, friendly boy, was changed. Yet how Jack envied him ! Lost in a brown study, Jack found himself brought, by sheer accident, in contact with Mrs. Hollis.

Smiling sweetly upon him, she opened fire.

"Ah, Mr. Hey wood, it is an age since I have geen you ! "What brings you here to-day ? "

"I came to show my model to the master."

" You've seen my son, I suppose ? "

*'Yes."

A GAME AT LAIVN-TENXIS. 47

** Do you know that to-morrow is his birth- day?"

"I've heard so."

" We have a dinner-party at the Vicarage in honour of the occasion — Mr. and Mrs. Dene, and Ealph's intended bride."

"His intended bride?" echoed Jack. "And who is that, pray ? "

" Don't you know ? "

" Nay, indeed."

" I thought everybody knew that my Ealph was going to marry Miss Dene."

The lad shrank as if from a blow.

"Yes, it is so," answered Mrs. Hollis. "I wish you'd come in to-morrow night after dinner to my room, and drink to Ealph's health."

Jack was silent ; his lips felt dry as dust.

"Eemember, too, if my son can help you in any way — if he can advance your prospects in life "

She did not finish the sentence, for Jack was gone. He was seen no more that night.

At midnight it commenced to rain, and kept raining until daybreak. The sun was striving to emerge from the clouds when Jack turned up at the cottage, pale and wan as a ghost.

Joan Heywood had been up all night awaiting him.

" What's the matter, hinney ? " she tenderly inquired.

" Nothing, grannie."

48 RACHEL DENE.

"Eh, lad, you may tell that to the men, who, although they know thou'st gotten a hard head, never guess thou'st gotten a soft heart. It's summat about her, for sure — I know it is. Eest thy head here, lad — here, where it has rested when thou wert nobbut but a bonnie wee bit bairnie. That's reet. Now, lad, what is it ? "

" Oh, grannie, she's going to wed Ealph Hollis ! "

" Who told thee so ? "

" His mother."

" Dunna believe her. T' lass knows t' difference 'twixt a man and a mannikin."

"Oh, grannie, grannie," cried the lad, "you don't know how I love her ! "

And he fell into a passion of tears.

" That's reet, lad— that's reet. It'll tak' f sore- ness out of thy heart. Look — look yonder ! Dost see t' rainbow stealing out o' t' clouds, while t' mists of t' neet are meltin' into mornin' ? That's a good sign— a grand sign for thee, lad. And just listen to t' birds; they are singin' a weddin' march. Tak' heart, lad — tak' heart."

*' I will, grannie — I will."

And he did take heart, as we shall see.

( 49 ) CHAPTER VI.

THE GKEAT INVENTION.

Jack Heywood might have spared his tears ; his alarm was altogether premature. Jacob Dene held the opinion that all men are equal, that wars are detestable, and that money is the merest dross. This was all very well in theory ; but, although our good Jacob called himself a Quaker, and " thee'd " and " thou'd " his friends, and was, for that matter, of amiable and peace-loving dis- position, yet he was an aristocrat at heart, and one fully alive to the value of this world's goods. If he ever contemplated the marriage of his grand- daughter, he looked much higher than Ealph Hollis for a suitable husband.

"With the shrewdness of his class, moreover, he saw pretty deeply into the young man's character. He knew him to be a bad man of business, a light thinker, and the companion of other light thinkers ; and though he tolerated him for his mother's sake, he entertained no very exalted hopes of his future. He was shrewd enough, of course, to perceive what the match-making mother had in contem- plation ; but he simply shrugged his shoulders and made no sign. He had perfect confidence in the good sense of Rachel, who was clearly not heart-struck yet.

The birthday party passed off without any sign

so

RACHEL DENE.

or omen. The subject nearest to the heart of Mrs. Hollis was never broached; she also per- ceived that the time was not yet ripe. As may naturally be supposed, she didn't for a moment contemplate the possibility of her darling son ever having a rival in Jack Heywood. Jack was only a common lad, an operative — a nobody, in fact.

A year passed rapidly away. Ealph Hollis con- tinued to dance attendance upon Eachel without making any visible progress in his suit. Jack Heywood, relieved from his first great fear, toiled late and early at mechanics, and especially at his favourite invention.

From week's end to week's end old Joan kept the lad's heart up.

" Coorage, lad," she would say. " ' Faint heart ne'er won fine lady,' as the saying is, and I'll back thee 'gin any lad i' t' county."

A little love goes a long way in the world, and Jack had a great deal, for besides Joan, Jasper doted on his grandson, while Jabez loved him with " a love beyond the love of woman." For the lone man, this boy crystallized in one bright form the lost love of his youth, the friend of his boyhood, and the girl whom he had adored. To his mind, no woman was too good or good enough for Jack ; and it was a foregone conclusion with Jabez that Eachel could never have the heart to say nay to his boy when the good time came.

The great invention had been patented, and exhibited at the Manchester Exhibition. One

THE GREAT INVENTION. 51

moruing, to the dellglit, though not to the as- tonishment, of Jack and his friends, came the award of the Executive Committee, enclosing the prize of a silver medal. By the same post came a communication from the great firm of Briggs and Boodlum, of Bridge Vale, requesting to know Jack's terms for the application of his patent in their extensive factories.

He was beside himself with delight when he read the letter to grandfather and granny. Of course, Joan gushed, and hugged, and cooed over him.

"Let un alone, mother," said Jasper, the cynic. " I can't aboar to see t' lad molly coddled i' that way."

" Thee never was a mother, Jasper."

"No, nor a grandmother, neither. Now what 1 say is this. Of course t' old gaffer has a reet to t' refusal of Jack's invention; but if he doan't come to time, why then close at once, my lad, wi' Briggs and Boodlum. What dost say, Jack ? "

" Well, grandad," answered the lad, "I'd rather hear what Jabez has to say."

And away ran the lad as hard as he could go to the mills, and brought back Jabez with him, who delivered himself thus oracularly.

" Why, for sure, I'd rather the honour and the glory 0' the thing should be wi' our own hoel York- shire than any other ; so suppose we go and have a talk wi' Mr. Dene. But thou must muzzle thy

52 RACHEL DENE.

mouth, Jasper, for tbe old man's apt to cut up rough if you scratch him the wrong way."

So it was resolved, there and then, that they should beard the Quaker lion in his den.

They got to the Oaks just after breakfast. When they were shown into the library, the "gaffer" was in the midst of the Times City article.

Jabez was right — Jacob Dene was a difficult person to deal with. He was a great man, in a small way — a kind of paternal despot — who liked to do kind and even generous things, but who objected to being driven into them — indeed, he could not bear his hand being forced. He not only liked his own way, but his own way of having it.

''What brings ye here?" he inquired curtly. "Anything wrong at the mills ? "

"Nay, sir," responded Jabez, "but our Jack here has got the prize medal at the Exhibition, for t' new invention, and he just thought you'd like to have a look at it."

" Surely it doesn't want three big men to carry a bit jimcrack of a medal," returned the old man, curtly.

" It's no a bit jimcrack, sir; it weighs welly an ounce."

" Nonsense, nonsense ! " cried the master. " Well, hand it over, and let's see it. Hem ! I congratulate thee, Jack Heywood. Well, what's at back of medal ? "

THE GREAT INVENTION. 53

ii rr

The inscription," responded Jack.

"I've seen the inscription, lad, but there's something more than the inscription behind it. Three great fellows have not come from the mills, merely to show mo a medal."

Jack looked at Jabez, who stepped forward and stammered, " Well, it be this, Mr. Dene," he said, placing Briggs and Boodlum's letter in his hand.

Jacob read it, and flushed with anger. Then he got up, and strode up and down the library in a most un-Quaker-like manner. Having relieved his mind by a little strong language, he cooled down a little.

" This is most unhandsome, lads, and unbusiness like ! The idea of Briggs and Boodlum coming between me and my peo^Dle ! Well, if thou likest to go, Jack, go, and luck go with thee. Abandon thy old friends by all means — it's the way of the world."

" But it isn't my way, sir," said Jack. *' The letter only came an hour ago. How am I to answer it ? "

" Answer it, lad ? " cried Jacob Dene. " Why say thou'lt see Briggs and Boodlum further first ! Say that Jacob Dene has secured the invention for Deepdale Mills, on thy own terms ; that is to say," continued the old man, warily drawing himself up, " always provided that the invention works to Jacob Dene's satisfaction. The first thing to be done is to go and show this pretty thing (and it is a pretty thing) to my wife Susanna, and her

54 RACHEL DENE.

granddangliter ; the next, to order tlie machinery, and see how it works, and then we'll arrange about terms."

So saying, he led the way to the drawing-room, where Kachel and her grandmother gave them all a cordial welcome. Both ladies were delighted with the medal. Finally Jacob rang for a bottle of Madeira, and i^roposed success to Jack's in- vention.

When they were about to leave, Eachel shook hands with the lad, and said, smiling, *' I hope, Mr. Heywood "

"You used to call me Jack once," he said.

"Well, then. Jack, I hope thy invention will realize all thy desires."

"Do you really hope that?" whispered Jack.

"Yes, truly."

"If it does, I shall be the happiest lad in the world."

As he looked her in the eyes, her face flushed rosy red, but she turned away without another word.

On their way back home Jasper and Jabez did all the talking. When they got to the mills, the two old fellows were in high spirits as they went from room to room showing the medal. Lads and lasses crowded round Jack, to congratulate him, but he walked about as if he were in a dream. At last he started off to the cottage, and ran every step of the way.

Joan was making a pudding for the dinner.

THE GREAT INVENTION. 55

** Granny," said he, "the gaffer has arranged for the invention."

" Good news, lad — good news ! "

"And, granny "

"Well?"

" S]ic called me Jack I "

Then Joan threw her arms, flour and all, round the lad's neck, and hugged him in an ecstasy of delight at the realization of her prophecy.

A month later, and one of the machines was fitted up in the mills for the purpose of ascertaining whether it would accomplish all that the. young inventor had promised. Jacob Dene, the overseer of the spinning department, Mrs. Hollis, Mrs. Dene, Rachel, Ealph, and the vicar, were formed into an informal committee of inspection to see the result of the inaugural experiments.

Of course, the ladies knew as much of the matter as they knew of Euclid or Sanscrit, nor were Ealph or the vicar much wiser. The machine accomplished much, but the arrangements were still incomplete. However, the practised eyes of the overseer and Jacob Dene took in in a moment the enormous value which must ultimately accrue from the invention. At present, it required a cog here, a pin there, a strap round a certain barrel, and then — hey, presto ! the entire trade would be revolutionized.

Jack was overwhelmed with congratulations, and a little dinner was improvised at the Oaks

56 RACHEL DENE.

that niglit in compliment to the happy lad. A very pleasant gathering it was for everybody but Ralph and his mother, who were neither of them too well pleased. Jack v;as the hero of the hour. Could it have been his fancy that Rachel appeared a little more reserved than usual? Everybody else was full of the great event, but she had little to say about it, pleading ignorance as her excuse. This lack of appreciation was the only alloy to our inventor's triumph.

When he got home, while Jasper and Jabez foregathered over their pipes, he got Joan into a corner, and laid bare his heart.

"Granny," said he, '' slie was the only one who eaid nowt about the invention."

Joan laughed knowingly.

*' Shows she tJiought all t' more. Of course, lad, thee doesn't understand. But, there, thou seest thee is na a woman, and dost na know the deceitful ways o' wenches. I know all about 'em ; I was a wench once mysen. When thy grandfather used to come a-courtin' me, I allays looked as if I wished un at Kirby Lonsdale, though if he hadna come I should a' greeted my een out."

" Oh, granny, do you think that she really cares for me a bit — only a little bit ? "

"Cares for thee? Why, of course she does! Only last Sunday, when she came into church, she smirked and nodded to Mrs. Hollis and Ralph quite sonsy like, then she looked over at our pew and turned pale as a lily. What did she turn

A BLACK MONDAY, 57

pale for, I should like to know ? Wby, because thou was na theer ; and when thou earnest in by- and-by, and she caught sight of thee, she flushed up red as a rose in June. What was that for, I should like to know ? Thou'lt see, this invention will win thee thy wife ; if not to-day, to-morrow, or next day. It'll come, lad — it's sure to come ! "

Jack caught her in his arms and hugged her.

"And when thou art a great man, hinney," she said, sobbing, " thou'lt no be ashamed o' thy old granny— wilt thee. Jack ? "

"Never — never! "

CHAPTER VII.

A BLACK MONDAY.

Just as the new invention was in full swing, Jack got a day off to have a run with the Brocklesby hounds. When he reached the meet there was a brave show of county people, and conspicuous among the party were Ealph Hollis and Eachel Bene. They belonged to the privileged class, and were in the thick of the throng, while poor Jack, being an intruder, merely hung upon the outskirts. His blucher boots, bowler hat, and homely jacket did not contrast to advantage with Ralph's white hat, smart pink coat, boots, and breeches. Evidently Master Ealph was well satisfied with himself or with something else that morning, for

58 RACHEL DENE.

the fellow looked happy and handsome as he chatted away with Eachel. For that matter, so did she until she caught sight of Jack, to whom she bowed gravely. He returned the courtesy as coldly as it was given.

''Morning, Heywood — morning," said Ealph. *' Got a day's holiday ? "

" Yes," growled Jack, as he gave his cob the spur, and trotted off, half disposed to gallop back to Deepdale there and then.

But he was young. Besides, he was a York- shireman; so when he heard the yelping of the hounds, and the cry of the " view hallo," — for they had found a fox almost immediately — he galloped back even more quickly than he had left the field.

There had been a heavy snowfall a few days before, a heavier thaw followed, a flood ensued, and all the rivers in Yorkshire overflowed their banks. The fox knew his ground, and led straight over hill and dale until they reached Blocklesby Ferry, where the Ouse was rushing down south- ward in a foaming torrent. Without hesitation, Reynard took the stream, the dogs followed, and, despite the strength of the current, made the other side a quarter of a mile lower down in safet3^

Carried away by the example of the fox and the hounds, those who were foremost in the field boarded the ferry-boat, which, in a minute's time, was overcrowded with men and horses. Fortu- nately only one woman was aboard.

The boat had barely left the shore, when Jack

A BLACK MONDAY. 59

came up on his cob. Irritated at being left bcliind, he contemplated the departure of the boat with anything but equanimity. There was nothing for it, however, but to await its return.

As he looked on, impatiently, a terrified horse aboard the boat, which was now in mid river, began to rear, and kick, and plunge. The example was contagious ; every horse aboard followed suit. Amidst the yells of the affrighted animals, and the wild cries of their riders, the boat cap- sized, and man and beast were flung headlong in one screaming, struggling mass into the rushing river. Jack never forgot that scene of horror ; he never can forget it to his dying day. Man after man went down, wildly calling for help ; they rose and sank, and rose and sank again, then drifted down to death. The noise, the struggle, and the commotion ceased. All was silent ; nothing was to be heard to remind one of this sudden and awful tragedy but the roar of the river, and then— the wild face of a woman emerging from the waste of waters fifty paces lower down. There was but one face in all the world like that, and when Jack Heywood saw it rise, as it were, from death, for a moment his heart stood still !

Then he pulled himself together, and with the rapidity of lightning took stock of the situation. A hundred paces still lower down the river described an acute curve, shaped almost like the letter U. This curve somewhat broke and deadened the force of the torrent.

6o RACHEL DENE.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the fair, pale face, Jack sx^urred his horse till he reached the bend of the curve, and then, with set teeth and muscles of steel, he pulled u^d, ready to take the leap on "which life or death depended.

As he looked, the face went down for the second time.

For the second time ! There was still one chance left. At the edge of the curve, it rose for the third time. The eyes — the pleading eyes — met his !

All depended now upon when and how he should take the leap. A moment too soon, and he would be carried down the river, powerless to help, before her. A moment too late, and he would be behind her. There was a third and worse alternative, he might ride over her.

At the supreme moment he drew himself together, and the leap was made.

As she floated by in the last agony, he plucked her by her sunny hair, which fell in great dishevelled masses down her shoulders, flung her across his saddle-bow, and floated safely down the river, until he approached another curve, which enabled him to land in safety with his precious burden.

She was cold and inanimate as death. Save for the feeble beating of her heart, she might have been dead indeed. He held her in his strong arms — he pressed her to his heart — he laid her tenderly upon the ground — he chafed her hands —

A BLACK MONDAY. 6i

he laid his cheeks to hers — he kissed her brow, her eyes, her lips — not with a lover's passion, but with a man's devotion, trying to breathe his own warmth and vitality into her expiring life, all the while beseeching Heaven with tears and prayers to spare her for the sake of those who loved her, and, perchance, a little for his own.

Surely his prayer was heard and answered ; for — with a shudder which thrilled her from head to foot, quickening her blood into returning life — she opened her eyes, and looked at him.

" Jack ! " she gasped. That was all.

But that was enough.

We have lost sight of Ealph, as, indeed, he had lost sight of Eachel half an hour before. The fact was, his mare had shied at Thorby Beck, which was swollen like a torrent, while Eachel, Squire Mordaunt, and a dozen others whose blood was up, had taken it flying, from the edge of the cliff.

Ealph was not alone — for two-thirds of the field shirked the leap, and concluded to make a detour. But Jack had made a way for himself ; and while the others were crawling leisurely round to the left, he discovered a narrower arm of the dyke — leaped it — and hence it was that, guided by the hand of Heaven, he had arrived in time to save the life he loved.

Yes, she was safe — there was no doubt about that. But how to get her to some haven of refuge ?

62 RACHEL DENE.

There was no sign of shed or shelter, far as the eye could reach.

While she lay shivering on the ground in her wet clothes — to make matters more agreeable, it began to snow. Then he pulled off his coat, and wrapped it round her. If he only had a flask now ; but he carried nothing of the kind.

The snow thickened — he didn't feci it — for the fever in his heart had set him on fire.

Leaving his sturdy cob beside her, he ran two or three hundred yards towards one of those stone fences so common in Yorkshire. Leaping atop, he gave the view hallo ! There w^as no response. Again, and yet again, he shouted — still no reply.

The snowflakes fell heavier and heavier — the grey clouds thickened, and became overcast — until a pall of darkness overshadowed the earth.

What was to be done ?

He overleaped the intervening dyke, and ran over a ploughed field, sinking into the sludge, almost knee-deep at every step. Again he leaped the wall — again he shouted. This time, he was answered. He listened with his heart in his mouth. Presently he heard the murmur of distant voices, the galloping of horses.

At last, ten or a dozen horsemen, with Ralph Hollis at their head, emerged from the mist. When Jack told them what had happened, a thrill of horror passed through the group, and an awful silence befell as they thought of friends and comrades thus untimely called to their last account.

A BLACK MONDAY. 63

While they stood Hke men transformed to stone, Jack said to Tom Brixholme, the whipper-in, who bestrode a great sorrel mare, " Tom, give us a lift behind thee, lad. While these gentlemen stand gaping here, poor Miss Dene will be perished ; so give the mare her head, and let her up."

Even as he spoke, off they went in a gallop, followed by the rest of the field, until they reached the spot where Eachel still lay shivering.

Dismounting rapidly he knelt beside her, and, raising her tenderly, placed his ear against her bosom. It still palpitated gently; so there was no immediate cause for alarm.

Up to this moment Ralph had not spoken.

At last he said, " How can I thank you ? "

*' I don't need your thanks," replied the other.

Ealph paused for a moment as he made answer.

*' Of course I shall take her home at once."

'* Excuse me," said Jack, " but I shall take care of her this turn. Happen one of you gentlemen may have such a thing as a drop of brandy about you ? "

Half a dozen flasks were instantly placed at his disposal, and when he had succeeded in getting a few drops of the potent spirit down her throat she began to revive.

There was no conveyance — not even so much as a hurdle — so Jack did not hesitate as to his plan of action.

"Tom Brixholme," said he, "is there e'er a farmhouse nigh ? "

64 RACHEL DENE.

" Yes, there's Farmer Sparrow's— at Barnolby- le-Beck, about a mile off."

Lifting Eacbel from the ground, Jack continued, ** As soon as I'm mounted, give her to me."

"Eight you are. Jack," replied the whipper-in. ''But first, lad, slip on this coat. It be t' Squire's. I brought it for un, sure. He'll never want it again, poor ge'l'man ! "

Jack slipped on Squire Mordaunt's coat, sprang astride the cob, and rode leisurely to Barnolby-le- Beck, bearing his treasure in his arms — upon his heart. Poor Ealph felt that his nose was out of joint, and there was nothing for it but to follow and play second fiddle, which he did with a rueful face. There is no use, however, kicking against the pricks, and he had to accept the inevitable.

When they got to Farmer Sparrow's, the dame and her milking-maid took charge of Eachel. The honest soul stripped the girl of her wet clothing, chafed the frigid limbs, got her to bed, and administered a warm posset.

As soon as she came to, she inquired, " Where's Jack?"

" I don't know who Jack is," replied the dame, *'but there be two young men downstairs. One carried you here in his arms on horseback; the other is in pink, and raal handsome he is."

** Prithee tell them to let Grandpapa and Grandma Dene know that I'm all right ; only I'm so sleepy."

Five minutes later she was sleeping placidly as an infant.

A BLACK MONDAY. 65

While she slept, the two young men rode towards Deepdale together. Ealph smoked mcessantly, and stopped at every halfway house to have a nip. It was in vain that he invited Jack to accompany him. The latter had already taken the precaution to fortify himself at Dame Sparrow's with hot coffee and a dish of ham and eggs. Both men were moody and taciturn, and spoke little to each other.

Upon arriving in the valley, Ralph went to the Vicarage. Jack paused for a moment at the cottage to hurriedly tell Joan and Jasper what had happened, and to ask the old woman to get some dry clothing ready for him ; then he picked up Jabez at the mills, and they went to the Oaks together.

Mrs. Dene and Jacob were much alarmed at Eachel's absence, for it was now getting on for nine o'clock, and they had expected her back to dinner at six. When Jack told them what had happened, Jacob ordered the break out immediately. It was useless for Jack to assure him that there was no further danger. Jacob was impatient of opposition.

" Thy cob is worn out," he said. " Go to the stable, and take the best nag thou canst find. Take it, and keep it, lad, for this day's work. That'll do ; spare thy speech. Gallop down to the Vicarage. Tell parson I'll call for him in half an hour ; and, Jabez, do thou call on Doctor Whitaker, and ask him to make ready to go with us."

i6 RACHEL DENE.

The poor cob was indeed done up ; that struggle in the river, and the ride to Farmer Sparrow's double weighted, and the long ride to Deepdale, had taken the backbone out of him, so Jack was not sorry to give him a rest. But in Jacob's stable there was a splendid young chestnut mare called Lucy, which Jack had long admired.

While the groom saddled her, Jack gave the cob a rub down ; then he leaped upon the mare, and trotted down to the cottage, where he slipped on his dry clothing, which done, he galloped on to the Vicarage, which he found in a state of con- sternation.

Almost immediately upon Ralph's arrival he was taken suddenly ill. Whether occasioned by fatigue, anxiety, vexation, or those repeated "nips" on the way, or all combined, no man may tell.

Doctor Whitaker had already been sent for. He merely unloosed the young man's neck-cloth, smelt his breath, and shook his head.

"Is there any danger?" inquired Mrs. Hollis, anxiously.

"Nothing that a draught of bitter water in the morning will not obviate. For the present, put him to bed, and let him sleep."

Ten minutes later the Denes, the vicar, the doctor, Jabez, and Rachel's maid were on their way to Barnolby-le-Beck, accompanied by Jack. To their inexpressible relief, they found their darling still sleeping soundly — so soundly that the doctor forbore to wake her.

A BLACK MONDAY. 67

Then came a difficulty. It was now too late to return to Deepdale. Dame Sparrow was, however, a woman of resources, and beds were improvised here, there, and everywhere, and soon after mid- night the house was at rest.

Eachel did not awake until about nine o'clock. When she found her grandmother on one side of the bed, and the maid on the other, she said, *' I've been dreaming, grandma, such a strange dream. I thought I was out with the hounds at Brocklesby Ferry ; that the boat was capsized ; that every one was drowned but me; that Jack came and saved me." •

" And so he did, my darling ! It was no dream. The brave lad did save thee, God bless him ! But see, here's Jacob, and Grandpa Lyster, and Doctor Whitaker."

When the two old men saw their darling, radiant with youth and health, they kissed and caressed her; and at a signal from the vicar, all knelt beside the bed and offered up a silent thanksgiving that she had been delivered from the jaws of death.

By-and-by, when the doctor came and told Jack and Jabez that all the danger was past, the two men shook hands in silence, and while Jabez went to take his morning pipe in the farmyard, Jack went out for a stroll towards the Beck.

He walked along lazily, with his bands in his pockets, until he was out of sight of the house and its inhabitants.

68 RACHEL DENE.

Then Master Jack ran a little, he danced a little, he laughed a good deal, then he burst out crying, like a great baby ; but finally he walked quietly back to the farm, softly whistling ** The British Grenadiers." When he got to the kitchen, Jabez was sitting down to breakfast.

" Thou art happy, lad ! " said he.

"Ay, and hungry, too, Jabez ! "

Evidently he was, for he polished off his break- fast in fine style.

CHAPTER VIII.

RALPH HOLLIS.

We have compared Ralph Hollis and Jack Hey wood to the idle and industrious apprentices immortalized by Hogarth ; but the comparison is, of course, an inadequate one, since the two lads of Deepdale, unlike their prototypes, didn't " start fair." Hollis had all the advantages of birth, blood, education, and refined surroundings ; Heywood had all the disadvantages on the other side. And yet, as we have seen, the poorer lad was rapidly gaining on his social superior. He was recognized on every hand as a clever, industrious fellow, likely to rise to almost any position. He had already invented a mood of economizing labour which might bring him in a fortune ; and, to crown all, he was a hero — he had saved Rachel Dene's life.

RALPH MOLLIS. 69

All this was gall and wormwood to the hand- some son of Mrs. Hollis. To be surpassed in everything by a social inferior, and one his junior by several years, was a constant source of irrita- tion. In his dilemma he turned for help to his mother, who, rendered preternaturally acute by maternal affection, kept her eyes fixed constantly on Rachel Dene, and saw, to her amazement, that Ralph was daily losing ground. True, Ea«hel liked the young man very well, for he was gay, dashing, and not ungenerous of disposition; but whenever there was a hint of love-making she shielded herself under the grey hood of Quakerdom, and couldn't or wouldn't understand. Attracted as much by her physical beauty as by her fortune, Ralph used all his powers of fascination, which were not very great, seeing that his experience lay chiefly among ladies of lighter disposition. He was quite at home with a handsome barmaid or a mirth-loving mill-girl, but he didn't under- stand the ways of pure and cultivated women.

The mother and son, like many who love each other much, wrangled a good deal over this and other subjects. Mrs. Hollis was proud and im- perious ; Ralph irritable and indolent ; and some- times they came to such high words that they hardly spoke afterwards for days together. Then Ralph would drive over to Barford to dine with the officers of the Forty-First, his father's old regiment ; there would be cards, and dice, and billiards, and other amusements popular among

70 RACHEL DENE.

sucii young gentlemen, and our idle apprentice would ride back to the counting-house "with an aching head and an empty pocket, to go through the disagreeable drudgery of earning his daily bread. Over and over again, however, he had to appeal to his mother to help him out of his diffi- culties, and in doing so she got into difficulties herself. Still, it was for her darling's sake ; and, as the young scapegrace constantly promised amendment, the poor, fond mother helj)ed him, and prayed for better days.

There was one consolation — Ealph was the next- of-kin to an earldom. How fervently, amidst his pecuniary and other troubles, he prayed that his titled relative might remain a bachelor, and die at as early an opportunity as was convenient and possible.

More than once Jacob Dene lectured the young man on his conduct. One day, when Ealph returned from a night's orgy just in time to get to his desk in the morning, the old Quaker sent for him, and thus addressed him : " Thou art no flesh and blood of mine, Ealph Hollis, but I am sorry to see thy mother's son going so fast downhill to the place thou knowest. Thou wast at Barford last night, and rode over at daybreak? "

Ealph, who looked pale and wretched, and felt desperately ill and uncomfortable, forced a laugh.

*'A friend was going away. We gave him a little dinner, and kept it up rather late."

''Who was thy friend?"

RALPH HOLLIS. ^\

*' Mr. Ilarkaway, of the Forty-First. His father and mine were intimately acquainted. I hope, Mr. Dene, you don't find me inattentive to my duties ? I do my best, but the fact is, you know, I haven't much of a head for business."

"Nay," said Jacob Dene, dryly; "thou likest card-playing and folly better than honest work. Hast thou ever reflected, man, what it means to thee and thy mother ? "

Ralph shrugged his shoulders.

"You see, I wasn't born for this sort of thing," he muttered, biting his lips, and scowling moodily.

"Born to be hung, maybe ! " cried the Quaker, sharply. " What dost thou call thyself ? "

" A gentleman, I suppose."

" I know a better word — a ne'er-do-well. Take warning and example ! There's a lad in these mills who might teach thee, if thou art capable of learning a lesson."

" I suppose you mean young Hey wood," returned Ralph. " I know, sir, he's your favourite, but allow me to say that a gentleman does not take example by his social inferiors."

" Thou art a jackanapes ! " cried Jacob, angrily. ** I have a mind to send thee packing ! If it were not for thy mother's sake "

" Pray don't mind her ! " returned Ralph, hotly, for he was in the humour for a quarrel. " I can go, sir, whenever you like. I dare say I can pick up a living somehow and somewhere."

And he flounced out of his master's room, and

72 RACHEL DENE.

returned to bis place in the counting-house. He was sick of the whole business, and did not care, for the moment, what might happen. In bis irritation and anger, he forgot altogether about Eachel. "When he recovered bis temper, be re- gretted bis hasty words on her account, and felt half-inclined to apologize. However, he was too proud for that.

But Jacob Dene made no further sign, beyond talking over matters with Mrs. Hollis, and begging her to use her influence towards the young man's reformation, which she tearfully promised to do. A few evenings later, when Ealph had finished his dinner, and sat by the fire in the vicar's sanctum reading a sporting newspaper, she came in and sat down opposite her son. The vicar was out on a sick call, and they were quite alone.

She did not speak for some time, but sat with her ej'es fixed on the fire.

At last she said quietly, ** Have you seen Eachel to-day ? "

" No," he replied, over bis newspaper.

** She called this afternoon."

" Humph ! " muttered the young man, carelessly.

Another silence. It was clear that Ealph was prepared for a lecture, for without looking up he continued to read his newspaper with a scowl.

" Put down that paper and talk to me," said Mrs. Hollis. Ealph hesitated a moment, then threw the journal aside.

" What's the matter now ?" he exclaimed.

liALPH MOLLIS. 73

*' I want to speak to you about yourself, autl al)out Kacliel."

" Well, mother ? "

" You are behaving very foolishly and very badly. Mr. Dene is right."

" Oh, he has been sounding my praises ! " cried Pialph. " Old humbug ! I gave him a bit of my mind the other day when he began preaching to me down at the mill. He thinks me a fool, but he's mistaken."

" I'm afraid he's right," returned Mrs. Hollis.

''Thank you!"

"He complains, and justly, that you neglect your duties, and keep bad company."

"I keep company v/ith gentlemen, which is more than he has ever done. Mother," he added hotly, " I'm sick of it all. I was never meant to be chained to a desk, or to pore over figures in a ledger. I'm determined to cut it as soon as possible."

" And Eachel ? " asked Mrs. Hollis, coldly.

" Pachel is as bad as her grandfather. She never cared for me, and never will. Why should I keep on dangling at the heels of a methodistical flirt ? Why should I humiliate myself by following a girl like that ? "

"It is your own fault if you have not vron her heart," said the lady. " You have had every chance, yet you let her go without an effort. You waste half your time with the men at Barford, and while you are playing cards and billiards, young

74 EACH EL DENE.

Heywood, who has not a tithe of your gifts, is gaining every clay in her esteem."

" Nice taste that ! " sneered Ealph. " A common mechanic ! A fellow who can't speak decent English ! "

" He's not so bad as that ; though, of course, he is not a gentleman. Eemember, however, that Jacob Dene himself belongs to the people, and so, for that matter, does Eachel herself."

Ealph rose impatiently, and stood with his back to the fire, looking angrily at his mother.

*' Let Eachel take the fellow, and welcome. I am sick of humouring her human fancies ! "

*'You know you love her, so don't talk so absurdly," said Mrs. HoUis. " Oh, Ealph, do look at the matter seriously. You are ruining your own prospects and breaking my heart ! "

And the proud woman hung her head, while the fast-streaming tears ran down her cheeks.

With all his faults, Ealph loved his mother. She was the only living being, indeed, who in- spired in him either deep respect or strong affec- tion; so her grief moved him, and, bending over her, he asked her forgiveness.

"But you know, mother," he said, "I cannot bear the life I am leading. I ought to have been a soldier, like my father. After all, that's the only life fit for a man ! "

In his secret heart Ealph w^as thinking more of the amusements and dissipations of military life than of its dangers and glories ; but the fond

RALPH IIOLLIS. 75

mother looked at him in sudden pride, and thought, with a sigh, how closely he resembled his dead father.

"I wish it could have been," she said. *'My boy, you must be patient ; perhaps some day our fortunes may change, and then "

She did not finish the sentence, but he under- stood her. Both were thinking of the one life which stood between Ealph Hollis and an earldom. Little did Mrs. Hollis know that, even in that faint expectation of the succession — faint because the present Earl was strong and hale, and might marry any day — the young man had already speculated largely. He was, in fact, far deeper in the mire of difficulties than any one suspected. That very morning a writ had been served upon him in the streets of Deepdale. He had got among a bad set, and in order to keep pace with its members he had used every device to raise money. His mother's resources were, as he knew, ex- hausted ; his own were unsubstantial as thin air, for the small sum he received for his work at the mills would have scarcely sufficed to pay his tailor's bilL

76 RACHEL DENE,

CHAPTER IX.

A FOREWARNING.

That business at Brocklesby Ferry was a bad clay's work for Ralph Hollis.

He was thankful, however, that it was no worse. Had he been beside Rachel at the critical moment, he might have been unable to restrain her from going on board the boat. Of course, he would have gone with her ; then, in sporting phraseology, the odds were ten to one that he would have been drowned with the rest. On the other hand, had he come up with Jack, both would have certainly jumped into the river together in the endeavour to save her; and perhaps while the rivals were struggling for the honour of rescuing her, they would all three have perished. Of course, it was not Ralph's fault that his mare shied at Thorby Beck, but it was his misfortune. It left him out of the hunt, and gave Jack a chance which might never occur again in his lifetime.

Then there was that confounded brandy, of which he had taken enough, and to spare. Yes, he reflected; it was a bad day's work for him.

However that might be, that Black Monday could never be blotted out ; and no one knew it better than Ralph himself — that is, when he was himself. At times he would be resolute, and never

A FOREWARNING. 77

touch alcohol for weeks together. Then a moment of weakness or temptation occurred, and away went his virtuous resolves like a handful of thistle- down before the wind. So long as he was under the influence of his mother he was right enough ; but he could not always be tied to her apron- strings, and when once he got among his mihtary and racing friends, good-bye to prudence and common sense.

His extravagance had involved Mrs. Hollis in continual difficulties. So long as her father- in-law lived she got a little help occasionally ; but he had been deceased for nearly a year, and her brother-in-law, the new Earl, had refused to give her a shilling. It was, however almost a certainty that Ealph would inherit thv earldom at some distant period, which was some- thing to look forward to. If the lad would only keep steady, and if that match could be brought

about with Eachel But, then, if it could

not?

He had set his heart upon her, and the thought of losing her seemed beyond the bare pale of possibility. Still, he could not help fancying that she had never been the same to him since the day at the ferry. He noted, too, with growing im- patience and irritation, that Jack was a frequent guest at the Oaks, that he had taken to dressing in a more civilized manner, that he had even taken to lawn-tennis, and that he was a deft and dangerous opponent in that, or any other game

78 RACHEL DENE.

in which skill, or strength, or courage were necessary.

Now Ealph had so long taught himself to helieve that Eachel was to be his wife, that the bare idea of any other man coming between them appeared an outrage. That a mere ordinary operative — a vulgar mechanic — should dare to aspire to Eachel — Hs bright and beautiful Eachel — was not to be thought of.

But Jack was not an '' ordmary " operative — on the contrary, he was a very extraordinary one ; and, though a mechanic, he was by no means a vulgarian. Moreover, he was now in a fair way to become a rich man.

They met daily at the mills, and though not particularly cordial, were always civil to each other. The proverb is as true as it is trite, that *' lookers on see most of the game ; " and Jabez saw with increasing anxiety, that distrust was ripening into dislike between these two young men.

As for the innocent cause of this contention, she scarcely knew her own heart, or, if she did, she did not care to scrutinize it too closely. She was really always glad to see Ealph — that is, when he was not too pressing in his attentions. On the other hand, she was grateful to Jack Heywood for having saved her life — and perhaps a little more than pleased to see evidences of some attempt at refinement in his manners and demeanour.

Time passed on, and the great invention, though

A FOREIVARNING, 79

it scarcely justified its title, proved so far satisfac- tory, that it was adopted, with certain modifications, in the Deepdale Mills ; and before Jack Heywood attained his majority, he found himself foreman of the department in which the machine was used, and in the receipt of a handsome income. This increased prosperity made no difference in his domestic habits. He continued to live at the cottage with the old people.

"Didna I allays say it ! " Joan would constantly exclaim. ** Thou wast born to be a gentleman, and some day, lad, thou'lt be master 0' t' mill itself."

Jack would laugh, and blush, and look at himself in the glass, and think, very possibly, that the old woman was not far wrong. One thing, how- ever, marred the completeness of his self-satisfac- tion. His new pride and happiness seemed to make no favourable impression on Jabez Pryke.

One day, therefore, he spoke out to Jabez. It was just after the dinner hour, and they were walking back to the mills together — he with a rose in the button-hole of his office-suit, Jabez in all the picturesque shabbiness of his working clothes.

" What ails you, Jabez ? " he asked. *' You seem changed a bit from old times. Sometimes I fancy you're sorry to know of my good luck."

The overseer stopped short, and looked at him quietly with his gentle, patient eyes — eyes so full pf introspection, that they seemed to suffer from

8o RACHEL DENE.

the tender light they shed upon him. Then he laid his hand upon the young man's shoulder.

"It's just this, lad," he replied. "I'm reet glad o' your good luck, and proud o't into the bargain ; hut I'm troubled whiles i' my own mind about what's to come o't. 'Taint allays the best or the cleverest colt as wins t' race, and 'twould be a bad look-out if t' luck were to turn thy head."

"What d'ye mean?" cried the lad, flushing angrily.

"I mean naut but what I say. Jack. T' luck, maybe, has come too quick to last. You're nobbut a boy, and you're reckoning the race o'er far ahead."

" How d'ye know that ? I do my work and bide my time, and Master Dene has promised to help me along."

" That's reet enough," said the overseer. "But he'll ne'er help thee to Miss Eachel, if that's i' thy mind. T' master's proud, and he has the right to be proud ; but he's a great man, lad, and try thy best, you're nobbut one of the people. Blood's thicker nor water, as t' saying is."

The lad looked angrily at the speaker, who continued quietly.

"But 'tis not that I were thinking o' altogether. You're gotten beyond us hardworking folk, and hankering after fine company. Up at Barford, holiday times, you spend your brass wi' swells. Last Leger, you went into t' ring, and lost money on t' favourite."

( 83 )

CHAPTER X.

THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER.

The great Yorksbire carnival came on again. Saint Lcger was holding sovereign sway and masterdom on the Moor at Doncaster.

The mill hands had knocked ofT, and gone in thousands by a special train. Everybody in Deep- dale had gone except Joan and Jasper Hcywood, whose knee was as big as his head with a sudden and violent attack of rheumatism, so his wife stayed at home to nurse him. Though Jacob Dene was a Quaker, a Quaker is still a man — especially a Yorkshire Quaker, when there is a horse in the way — and he accompanied his wife and granddaughter to Doncaster. Mr. Lyster, too, escorted Mrs. Hollis ; Ealpli Hollis went with his friends, Captain Fitzherbert and other plun- gers of the Forty-First from Barford ; while Jack and Jabez drove over together to catch the train at Barnolby Junction. Jabez was for staying at home, but, seeing that Jack was bent on going, he determined to accompany him.

What a scene it was, to be sure, when they got to Doncaster ! Train after train disgorged its thousands. The High Street was crowded — almost impassable. But the scene at the moor itself baffles description. Life, colour, gaiety, animation were everywhere ; and as for the crowd.

84 RACHEL DENE.

that could only be calculated by hundreds of thousands.

A dozen different dialects of Yorkshire, con- tended for mastery with our own beloved Cockney — with Scotch, with Irish, with French, with German, and with shrill American.

The Denes, Rachel, Mr. Lystor, and Mrs. Hollis were in the front of the Grand Stand, which was thickly packed with human beings. Save for the fact that a Yorkshire horse was the first favourite, our friends had no interest beyond seeing the glorious strife for victory, and certainly they had nothing in common with the gentry below, amongst whom Ealph Hollis and his friends were busy backing the favourite against the field.

Hitherto, upon all former occasions, Jack and Jabez had been content to gaze upon the race from the outer fringe ; to-day they had sprung a point, and paid their guinea apiece to enter the charmed circle, where they encountered Ealph, Fitzherbert, and his friends.

Jabez felt ill-at-ease in such fashionable society ; so he made his way alone to the Stand. The plungers were civil to Jack, and Ralph gladly took him under his wing, simply to keep him away from Rachel.

It was a delightful day, and Jack enjoyed the races. It was pleasant to be in the thick of the dazzling scene he had heretofore contemplated at a distance — to be in the paddock, and to rub

THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER. 85

sboulclers with all the great people — especially to be introduced to the famous Jockey, with -whom princes and dukes hobnobbed.

By-and-by there was a hastily improvised luncheon, washed down by champagne ; and after that, a rough-and-ready race inaugurated the day's carnival. Jack didn't think much of that ; but after it came more champagne with cigars, and soda and brandies to follow. Then another descent into the ring ; then another raid upon the refresh- ment-room, more stimulants, and more cigars — a great deal more of them all than was good for Jack Heywood.

Ealph and his friends were seasoned vessels. Jack was unused to the process, and it began to take effect.

Back once more into the ring — back amongst a mob of howding ruffians, with books and pencils in their hands, and blasphemy in their mouths. To hear these fellows roar at each other, one would think Bedlam had broken loose amid a menagerie of wild beasts.

Bright and handsome, full of life and excitement, Jack pushed his way through the ring. Looking up towards the Grand Stand, he saw the eyes of Eachel fixed upon him, and smiling merrily, he lifted his hat. At that moment he felt a hand upon his shoulder, and turning quickly, saw his foster-father.

" Come away out 0' this, lad," said Jabez ; " 'tis no fit place for a decent lad. Let's gang home,"

86 RACHEL DENE,

*' Gang borne ! " echoed Jack, with a laugh, " and before the sport has half begun ? Nay, not I ! Come along to the bar, and have a drink."

Jabez shook his head.

" Thou'st been tasting already, Jack. Remem- ber what I told you, and tak' no more. If you won't gang home, at least, come and speak to Miss Eachol. See, lad, she's beckoning fro' t' Grand Stand."

Jack looked up again. Rachel was indeed beckoning, and, it seemed, to him. He took his friend's arm and pushed his way out of the ring ; made the best of his way until he came close to the group from Deepdale.

" I hope thou art not wagering thy money, lad," said Jacob. ''Betting is a bad business, and unworthy of a decent man."

" I am only looking on, sir," answered Jack. "Isn't it splendid? They say the Yorkshire favourite is to win."

Then he leant over and talked to Rachel. Warmed with a glass or two of wine, he felt quite at his ease and familiar. As he laughed and chatted, the girl looked at him in some surprise. Glancing from his flushed, excited face, she met the sad, wistful eyes of Jabez Pryke.

While this scene was taking place, two men stood watching it from the ring. One was Ralph Hollis ; the other was his friend and boon companion. Captain Fitzherbert, a man nearly ten years his senior, seasoned in all kinds of

THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER, 87

dissipation, and a thorough "plunger" by habit as well as disposition. The Captain was thick-set and strongly built, with a high-coloured com- plexion, a black moustache, black hair, a little thin at the top, and a coarse, determined mouth. He was dressed in the height of fashion, sported a white hat, and was literally covered with jewellery. "Look there, Fitz," said Ralph, in a voice thick with drink ; " that infernal workman again talking to Miss Dene ! They're whispering under the old Quaker's very nose. Ever since the fellow saved her life she has treated him as if he were a gentleman and an equal, though, at the best, he's only a confounded mechanic, working with his

hands."

"Jealous, eh?" returned the Captain, with a laugh. " Gad, you've reason ! Saved her life, did he ? Ah, yes ; I remember. You missed your best chance there, Ealph, my boy. Women like fellows of that sort, you know. Saved a woman's life myself out in India — widow woman— and, by George ! she proposed to me on the spot. But Fitz didn't see it — oh, dear, no ! "

Quite unconscious of Ralph's baleful gaze upon them, Jack and Eachel continued to converse in whispers. Never had the maiden seemed so gracious, never had the young inventor looked so

happy.

" D n them ! " muttered Ealph Hollis.

"Certainly," said Fitzherbert. "But come along, and have a drink, and leave them alone ;

88 RACHEL DENE.

— your rival's first favourite, and you're scratched ! "

*' km. I ? " cried the young man, with a savage oath. "We'll see about that ! Fitz, the old man hates me, and encourages this fellow ! Only yesterday he took me aside and asked me to take example by young Heywood. Fancy that ! Take example by a common mechanic ! "

** Humph ! An imcommon mechanic, I should say. I rather like the lad."

" And I hate him ! There, they're shaking hands, and he's coming back to the ring. Listen to me, Fitz ! It's a matter of life or death to me now to put things right with Rachel, and this clod is the only human being in my way."

They walked away together, eagerly conversing. Meantime, Jack Ileywood, hurrying from Eachel's side, drifted away with the crowd. His excitement had increased tenfold by the reception he had met with from the Denes. His face was radiant ; he could have leapt in the air. Laughing gaily, he pushed his way through the throng, again entered the ring, and at last came face to face with Ealph Hollis and Fitzherbert.

" Ah, Heywood," cried Ealph, smiling. ** Better fun than the mills, eh ? Come and liquor up."

** No, thank you," said the lad, hesitating. ** I promised Miss Dene "

But Ealph Hollis took one arm, and Fitzherbert took the other. As they did so, thoy exchanged a Bignificant glance,

THE FEAST OF ST LEGER. 89

" Just one glass ! " said the Captain. " Come, we'll toast the great invention."

Bewildered and excited, Jack suffered himself to be led away. His pride was flattered ; he felt himself a gentleman among gentlemen ; and, to speak the truth, he was pleased to be in such fine company. He glanced round, and saw no sign of Jabez, his self-appointed mentor; then, with a laugh, he accompanied his friends to the refresh- ment-room.

Fitzherbert called for champagne. When the bottle was opened, he and Ealph took care to let Jack have the lion's share. Then, the lad, not to be outdone, insisted on ordering and paying for another bottle. Had he been a little sharper- sighted and more suspicious, he might have observed that his companions, always exchanging looks of meaning, spilt the greater part of their wine upon the grass.

Jack was no tippler ; a little wine affected him ; and by this time he had drunk a large quantity. He began to talk loudly, and to clap Fitzherbert oh the shoulder as he sallied back into the ring.

Above the Babel of sounds could be heard, " Two to one, bar one ! " and ** Fifty to one against the favourite ! "

Jack believed in the Yorkshire horse— belief was loyalty to his native county. He yielded to the temptation, and, despite Mr. Dene's warning, began to bet. Unluckily, he had five and twenty pounds about him. He backed the favourite

90 RACHEL DENE,

against the field, with the result that he lost his money.

Kalph Hollis, too, was betting furiously, and losing — indeed, scarcely knew himself what he had lost. He only knew one thing — that three weeks ago he had borrowed two hundred pounds from Fitzherbert, and that he had solemnly pro- mised to pay him the day after the Leger ; and, amidst the riot, the confusion, and the pande- monium, ho remembered that if this and other moneys were not paid on settling-day, disgrace, ruin, and all the rest of it might follow. But, in the midst of all his excitement, he still kept his eyes fixed on Jack Heywood. His plan had suc- ceeded to admiration. The drink, and the excite- ment, and the loss had been too much for the young workman. By this time he was quite drunk, and very quarrelsome.

He had parted with his five and twenty pounds like a man, but the bookmaker insisted that he ov/ed five and twenty pounds more, which, indeed, he did, through some bungling in his betting.

At this moment Jabez came up.

When he saw the state of affairs he was ashamed, and, indeed, a little angered, to see his boy in so shameful a condition.

" Jabez, old man," cried Jack, clutching his arm, " lend me five and twenty pounds."

In his intoxication he fell back into broad Yorkshire.

" What for ?" asked Jabez.

THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER, 91

*' Why, yon dog-faced rcshil says I owe it him, BO shell out t' brass."

" My lad, I canuot. I havena got it."

" What ! " cried the lad ; " art ilioii gone back on me ? Pretty chap thou art to stand by a friend in a hoyle ! Hang such friends ! Get out for an owd humbug ! "

The unhappy lad had indeed *'put an enemy into his mouth to steal away his brains," and he let forth a flood of abuse upon his friend and more than father. The plungers quite enjoyed the scene, and added fuel to the fire by some not par- ticularly elegant chaff. The bookmaker alleged that he did not know Jack, and demanded that he should immediately *'pay up."

Jabez demurred; the bookmaker swore that both Jack and his friend were " nobbut, more or less, nor a pair 0' welshers " — words of direful omen to a Yorkshireman. No sooner was it out of his lips than the bookmaker was on his back, while Jack strode over him, and requested him to get up to be knocked down again.

The betting-man responded like a gamecock. He was up in an instant, and going for Jack. They rushed at each other like a pair of tigers, amidst yells of encouragement from the by- standers.

At the height of this scandalous scene, the Denes, and Eachel, Mr. Lyster, and Mrs. Hollis, appeared, passing from the Grand Stand above. As Jack caught sight of them — above all, when

92 RACHEL DENE.

be caught sight of Eachel's eyes — her look of astonishment and disgust struck him -with a sudden shock of pain. She scarcely paused a moment in passing ; the next, she was gone ; but she had seen it all.

As she passed forth, be said to the bookmaker, *' Hold hard. There's my watch ; it's worth nearly all thy brass. I'll send t' rest to-morrow."

"Nay, lad," replied the betting-man; "I'm sure thou art a pluck'd un, and we Sheffield grinders allays like a mon better after we've fowt un. My name's Tom Yondal ; I'm to be found i' t' Pot Market, Sheffield, any time."

Jack was angered with Eachel, with Ealph, with the bookmaker, with everybody — above all, with Jabez. Had Jabez only lent him that twenty-five pounds, this calamity would not have occurred. With the unreasoning fury of an unaccustomed drunkard, he blamed every cause but the right one. As he reeled along, elbowing his way through the crowd to the railway-station, his demeanour was so strange and wild as to attract universal attention. He was so aggressive and pugnacious, that had it not been for Jabez he would have reached the police-station instead of the railway- station. When at last, however, he got there, he dragged Jabez into the refreshment-room, made a grab at a bottle of champagne, dropped it, and smashed it to pieces.

Then he snatched another, and knocked the neck off itj cutting his hand in the operation.

THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER. 93

Some of the Deepdale lads were tliere, and lie invited them to join him.

" Sup, lads, sup. Now, lass," he continued, " serve out some brandy and soda — lots of it. That's your sort ! "

Finding it useless to attempt to restrain him, Jabez went to see if he could find the station- master to induce him to reserve a compartment, so as to get the wretched lad home without further mischief. While bent on this errand, he came in contact with Jacob Dene, the vicar, and the ladies.

There was no disguising from them the state of affairs; therefore, addressing his employer, Jabez said, '* I've nowt to say for t' poor lad, save that he's had more than is good for un, and that it has been given to un by them as owt to know better. He's ne'er bin so afore, and please God'll ne'er be BO agin. He's not only drunk, but mad — does na know what he's sayin' or doin'. Unless I can get him home, there'll be some mischief done. Please, Mr. Dene, gie us a good word wi' station-master to get t' lad in by hissen somewhere, if it be only in a horse-box."

Angered as Jacob was, his regard for Jabez was so great, that he assented to his wishes, and, at his request, the station-master was induced, with some difficulty, to reserve a second-class compart- ment for Jabez, Jack, and half a dozen Deepdale lads.

A very bad time they had of it until they got to

94 RACHEL DENE.

Barnolby Junction. Jack qimrrellecl with every- body in general, but with Jabez in particular. Once, indeed, he threatened to throw him out of the window. Drink had changed this genial, gentle, lovable creature from a man into a wild beast.

At last, his drunken fury wore itself out for the time, and he fell into a stertorous sleep, which for- tunately lasted until they got to Barnolby Junction. Then Jabez drove him down to the mills, for he could not bear that Joan should see the lad in so sorry a condition.

Meantime, young Hollis was being driven home from Barford by Fitzherbert in a high dog-cart belonging to the Captain. Both were well warmed with wine, and not a little excited, for Pialph had lost large sums that day, and Fitzherbert was clamorous for his money.

''Make your mind easy," Ealph said; "I can get the money, and I'll pay you. After all, this is a good day's work for me.'"

" How's that ? " growled the officer.

" We doctored the favourite nicely ! Rachel and the old man saw it all. I don't think that young cub will be backed for a place again."

Fitzherbert deposited his friend at the outskirts of Deepdale, and then turned his horse's head back towards Barford. It was now quite dark, and not a sound broke the stillness of the night.

"About that money?" asked the Captain.

" You shall have it. I'll come over to-morrow."

AFTER THE LEGER. 95

The Captain nodded, and drove rapidly awa5\ Ealpli Hollis walked on through the darkness in the direction of the mill.

CHAPTER XL

AFTER THE LEGER.

For some years past Jabez had resided per- manently at the mills. He had a small living- room in the front or main building, and imme- diately above the cashier's office. Here every night he slept solitary and alone, ready for any emergency which might occur. From his high window could be seen, across a huge quadrangle, the factories, the engine-rooms, and the great warehouses in the rear. It was a lonely place by night, and the overseer's life was lonely; but Jabez Pryke, though he cared nothing for books, had constant company in his own gentle thoughts. His was an existence occupied with only two ideas — devotion to his duty as his master's servant, and love for the child of the woman sleeping in the neighbouring churchyard. Among the treasures in his barely furnished room was a picture of Jael, a rude photograph taken one day at Barford. It hung over his head, and night after night he raised his eyes to it as to some pictured saint.

On that eventful night of the St. Leger, when he arrived before the mills, supporting in his strong

95 RACHEL DENE.

arms the half-insensible form of his foster-son, he found the great iron gate closed. He rang the gate-bell, and the dull clanging echoed dismally through the night, till at last a light appeared, and Joe Styles, the watchman, came, lantern in hand, to answer the summons. Behind him fol- lowed the great watch-dog Leo, a formidable mastiff-bitch.

"Hullo, Jabez ! " cried the watchman, unlock- ing the gate, and swinging it open. *' Back at last?"

" Ay, mate," answered the overseer. " Here, lend a hand, man ; I want to take Master Jack up to my room."

"What's the matter wi' un?" asked Joe, with a grin. "I saw un up at Doncaster flinging t' brass about like mad. Ower much lemonade, I doubt ? "

" The lad's ill, very ill. I canna tak un home i' this state. He's got to sleep here i' t' mills."

*' All reet, Jabez," replied the watchman.

It was no easy task to get Jack along. He was comatose, and though he moved his legs mechanically, his head and arms swung forward, and without powerful assistance he would have fallen. But the two strong men lifted him bodily, and carried rather than led him up the steep stone stairs till they reached the topmost landing, and drew him into the overseer's little room. Then, while Joe lit a candle, Jabez placed the boy in a chair. He sat there with ruffled hair, pallid face,

AFTER THE LEGER. 97

and eyes lialf-closed, feverishly mutteriug to him- self. One hand hung by his side like lead, the other was thrust into his breast. The old watch- dog, who knew him well, kept close, and licked the hanging hand.

The watchman, a grim, grizzled veteran, stood looking on, and, holding up the lantern, flashed the light into his face.

" Poor lad, he's had his bellyful ! " he said, half amused and half shocked. ** Say, Jabez, Jem Wright t' stoker's sitting out wi' me i' the engine-house, and we ha' a bottle 0' good stuff yonder. Will ye come and take a sup ? "

" No ! " cried Jabez, fiercely. " Curse t' drink ! Curse them that make it, and them that sell it ! See what it's done this neet ! "

** Sure enough ; but lad'll be reet i' the morn-

ing."

"He'll ne'er be reet again!" answered Jabez, with a groan, like a deep sob. ** Lea' us together ; I'll stop wi' him, and put him to bed."

The watchman nodded, and left the room, fol- lowed by the mastiff. The moment he had gone, Jabez turned and locked the door ; then, uttering a low cry, knelt by the lad's side, and burst into tears.

" Jack, Jack, my lad ! " he cried. " Won't 'ee speak to me ? 'Tis me — Jabez ! Look up, lad, look up ! "

But Jack made no sign ; he still sat in a state of collapse, murmuring vacantly to himself. Then

n

98 RACHEL DENE.

tenderly, like a woman, Jabez took off his coat and waistcoat, relieved him of his necktie and collar, and, raising him bodily, placed him upon the bed. He fell there like a log, with a low, suffocating moan.

Jabez bent over him, and looked into his face.

"'Tis strange," he said to himself; "I ha* seen many a mon o'erta'en wi' the cursed drink, but ne'er a one like this ! He's more like a mon death-struck wi' poison ! Poor lad ! Poor lad ! "

"Water ! " moaned Jack, as if gasping for breath.

Jabez moistened his parched lips, and laid his head gently back upon the pillow. As he did so, he saw the picture of Jael hanging over the head of the bed.

" I promised to be a feyther to un," he cried, stretching out his arms to the picture, while the great tears rolled down his cheeks, " and I'll keep my word. I ha' been a lonely man for thy sake, Jael, but now thou hast gien me a son — thy living image, wi' the same blue een and bonny golden hair. Oh, my lass— my lass! just as your face looked when we found thee dying i' t' snow is t' lad's this neet ! "

Then, mastered by his emotion, he sank on his knees by the bedside, and praj^ed aloud. Prayer more unselfish, more solemn and touching, never rose from the lips of man. And as he prayed, he took the boy's clammy hand, which Knig loose on the coverlet, and kissed it again and

AFTER THE LEGER, 99

again. In bis own name, in the name of his ovai love and sorrow, he asked God to pardon the lad for his folly that day ; to watch over and preserve him from future temptation ; to keep from his lips the poison of drink; to strengthen him against all evil ; to make him a happy man, and to crown him with honour and prosperous days. Lastly, with an infinite tenderness, he interceded for a happy sequel to the lad's love for Eachel Dene.

"Lord, Lord, turn not the lass's heart against un, but be kinder to my lad than Thou hast been to me ! Keep him fro' lonesomeness like mine, and answer his prayer wi' life and love ! "

Strong feeling makes even rough men eloquent, and Jabez uttered his thoughts as if inspired. Then rising to his feet, he looked down on Jack with unutterable affection, for all the time it was still Jael's face that he saw before him now, as he had seen it the night she came home to die.

It was now getting late, and Jabez had still to get down to the cottage, and break the news to the old people. So, with one last look at the heavily- sleeping lad, he left the room, closing the door stiffly behind him.

" He'll be reet enough till I come back," he muttered, " and I'll watch by his side all t' neet, poor lad, poor lad ! 'Twill be a bitter wakening for him to-morrow morn."

Descending the dark stairs, he passed the offices below, and came out upon the courtyard, and reaching the gate, opened it with his master key.

I DO RACHEL DENE.

which he had taken down from a nail in the room above. He was soon out in the open street, facing wind and rain, for it was a stormy night. Looking up at the mill building as he passed, he saw the windows all dark and desolate, and wafted another blessing to the lad lying asleep within.

His way lay through the town, and close past the churchyard. As he passed the shadow of the church, he ran up against a man.

"Confound you!" cried a voice; "where the deuce are you rushing ? Who are you, eh ? "

"Jabez Pryke," answered the overseer. "Is it thee, Master Ealph ? "

" Yes. Where are you bound ? "

"Down to Gaffer Heywood's cottage, sir."

"I thought you slept at the mill," said Ralph. " By the way, how's young Hopeful ? Have you taken him home ? "

" Nay, sir ; he be lying asleep i' my room at t' mill. I'm going to tell the gaffer where he is, and then come back and look after un till morning."

"I see," returned Ealph, with a laugh. "I say, wasn't he awfully screwed ? Never saw a man so gone in my life ! How did it happen ? "

"Maybe you can tell that better than me," said Jabez, significantly. " Though t' poor lad was o'erta'en, he's sober and hard-working, and never came to this pass before."

"Well, good night," cried Ealph, moving away.

"Good neet," replied Jabez, coldly. "You'll say nowt o' this to t' master ? "

AFTER THE LEGER, loi

"I'm afraid he knows all about it, for everybody saw the lad in his mad fit. However, if I can put in a good word for him, I will ! "

Leaving Jabez Pryke to make the best of his way down to the cottage, Ealph Hollis hurried on eagerly in the direction of the mill. Once or twice he paused and listened, but everything was still, and not a soul was in the street. In a few minutes he reached the street where the mill buildings were situated, and stood looking up, as Jabez had done, to the dark, dismal windows. The light of the lamp suspended over the gate fell upon his face, which was wild and pale as death. He was still excited with the drink he had taken during the day, and he shook like a leaf.

Drawing a flask from the breast-pocket of hia great-coat, he took a long draught. Then, approaching the gate, and touching it with his outstretched hands, he peered in. All was dark and silent. Suddenly, as he leaned against the gate, it opened.

"The gate is unlocked!" he muttered, with a low cry of surprise. " That's unfortunate, but it shows the old fool will hasten back. If the thing is to be done, there is not a moment to lose ! "

But his knees knocked together, and he trembled from head to foot. Another draught at the flask steadied him a little. For a minute yet he stood hesitating.

** It's sink or swim ! If I don't pay up to- morrow everything will come out; and even if I

102 RACHEL DENE,

am discovered, Jacob Dene will never send me to gaol. Curse the money ! but I must have it, and I know it's ilicre ! By God, I'll do it ! "

He crept into the yard, and approached the stairs leading to the cashier's office. He paused and listened again; there was not a sound, save the moaning of the wind, and the pattering of the rain. Groping his way up the stairs, he reached the first floor. As he paused there, a low moaning sound broke upon the ear, coming from the rooms above.

"Heywood! I forgot him!'* thought Ralph. "I must see if he is awake; if he is, and recog- nizes me, I can soon frame an excuse for being here."

He went on from stair to stair till he reached the top floor, and paused outside the room where Jack was lying. He knocked softly; there was no answer. Then he quietly opened the door, and peeped in. Jack lay tossing on the bed with his eyes closed, muttering incoherently, seeing and hearing nothing.

Ealph drew the door to, and slipt again down the stairs.

( 103 ) CHAPTER XII.

JABEZ PEYKE's vigil.

It was getting late when Jabcz Pryke readied the cottage, but there was a light in the window, and, entering without ceremony, he found the old couple sitting up by the parlour fire. Jasper lay back in his armchair, nursing his gouty knee, while Joan, spectacles on nose, sat at the table leaning on her elbows, and reading out of a news- paper some days old. She looked up as J-ibez entered, and greeted him by name.

" Is it thee, Jabez ? Welcome back, lad. But Where's Jack?"

"Jack's not coming home t' neet," answered the overseer, quietly. "I left him yonder at t' mill."

"At t' mill!" echoed the old woman. Then, startled by the strange expression on Jabez's face, she added, " Summat's wrong. Speak out, Jabez Pryke!"

" It's nowt, grannie ! " he replied, forcing a smile. " Come, let me sit down, and I'll tell thee all about it."

" Ay, sit down," said Jasper, hospitably. " Sit down, lad, and tell us about t' Leger."

But as Jabez took a seat by the fire, Joan rose angrily to her feet.

'• T' Leger ! " she cried. ** Hark to t' owd fool—-

I04 RACHEL DENE.

he thinks o' nowfc but racing and siccan folly. But I want to hear about Jack. Summat's wrong, I say. No humbugging, Jabez ! "

" Nay, grannie."

" Thou mayst humbug Jasper theer, but 't won't do wi' me. Look me in t' face, Jabez. AYhat's come to our lad ? Where hast left him ? "

** As I told thee," answered Jabez. *' At t' mill, sound asleep in my bed."

" And why hast left him iliecr ? "

Jabez answered again, not lifting his eyes.

**Well, then, he were a bit lively — he took a glass o'er much ; and — and — I thought it best he should bide at t' mill till he came to hissen."

Jasper emitted a low whistle, Joan an indignant exclamation.

^' Dnmk, d'ye mean?" she cried.

"Well, a bit excited like," said the overseer. " He was put out about t' favourite, and got tasting with his friends, and — and — well, lads will be lads, and 'tis nobbut once in t' year."

Though he forced a smile, and tried to speak lightly, his face belied his words. His heart felt cold and dead within him, and he was miserable and ashamed. The old woman, watching him keenly, saw that the affair was serious.

"He must ha' been bad indeed," she cried, "if he couldna come home."

Jabez made no reply, but Jasper here took up the thread of talk.

"Jabez is reet. If t' lad did get merry, 'tis

JABEZ PRYKE'S VIGIL. 105

nobbut once a year. Lord, I ba' been tbat way my sen, many a time ! "

** Jack's not like //jec," snapped bis wife— ''an idle, foolisb owd man, thinking 0' nowt but idling and drinking, and smoking t' pipe in a corner."

" Thankee, wife," returned Jasper, with a grin.

"Nay, Jack comes 0' better stuff; and if be were overta'en, there's been some foul play, I wager. Come, Jabez Pryke, I'll ha' the truth. Tell it out like a man ! "

Thus urged, the overseer gave a somewhat rose- coloured but fairly truthful account of what had occurred ; described the scene in the betting-ring, the meeting with Pachel and the Denes, the encounter with Fitzherbert and Ealph Hollis, and the other occurrences of that eventful day.

The moment he mentioned Ealph's name, Joan interrupted him with a cry.

''Drinking wi' Ealph Hollis? Then 'tis young maister's doing ! I was sure there was foul play in't. And Miss Eachel ? Did she see him when the poor lad was o'erta'en like that ? "

"Ay, grannie," answered Jabez; "that's the worst on't. Miss Eachel seed him, and so did all our folk. I tried my beet to quiet un, but 'twas a useless job."

"When t' drink's in, t' wit's out," observed Jasper, sententiously.

"Hold thy tongue!" cried Joan. "Ay, I see it all. 'Twas Ealph Hollis that made our lad

io6 RACHEL DENE.

drink, and maybe put some stuff i' the glass to steal away his brains."

"Nay, nay, grannie," said Jabez; "he'd ne'er do that ! "

" I tell 'ee I know un. He'd gie his reet hand to shame Jack in Miss Eachel's een. Ay, he's a bad un, is Ealph Hollis, and comes o' a bad stock. My poor lad! who ne'er takes a sip o' liquor from one week's end to 'nother ! I'd ne'er believe 't, Jabez, if thee hadna said it wi' thy own lips."

Poor Jabez heard the reproach, and for the first time in his life felt as if he had acted disloyal to the boy he loved so much. Yet what could he do? He was incapable of a lie, and he knew, moreover, that Jack was sure of gentle judgment, of tender sympathy in that house. And after all, as he had said, it was but a single slip. One rainy day does not make a flood; and one escapade, however wild, would not convert the boy into a drunkard. The fault could not be hidden now from any one ; it would be redeemed by the future, and perhaps be a fruitful warning.

Yet there was a load upon his heart which he could not shake away. The shock had shaken him more strangely than he ^^tl^Fav^^ought pos- sible ; the boy's downfall seemed his own death- blow.

" Cheer up," chirped Jasper, " The lad '11 be all reet i' t' morning. Joan, gie Jabez a cup o* our ale ; he's soaken wi' t' rain."

..#

JABEZ PRYKBS VIGIL. 107

** Nay, Jasper," returned the overseer ; *' no ale for me. I shall taste nobbut water fro' this day, and if t' lad's "wise he'll do t' same."

"Amen to that!" said Joan. "Drink's the scaith 0' t' world, and has killed more brave lads than e'er fell i' bloody wars."

Jasper was dying to know about the St. Leger, but in the presence of his wife he didn't dare to speak. Fond of a glass himself, he thought that a precious bit of trouble was being made out of a very small affair. With Joan it was altogether different. Through a grave woman's intuitive per- ception she knew that Jack's conduct was at once alarming and mysterious. He was not like other lads ; his whole life had been one steady progress upwards, and though on one or two occasions of late he had been a little merry, he had never made his folly a public exhibition, or quite taken leave of his sober senses. She saw, too, that Jabez Pryke was deeply agitated and concerned, and she suspected, as was the case, that he made the best of a picture necessity compelled him to draw of the lad's escapade.

The worst of the whole business was that the Denes were aware of what had taken place. Eager to see the fulfilment of her prophesies concerning her grandson and Eachel Dene, poor Joan had began to dread a castle in the air. For the first time in her life, Rachel had seen the young workman to serious disadvantage, excited by drink, quarrelsome, reckless, transported out

loS RACHEL DENE.

of his usual gentle self. It ^^'as a bad day's business.

Jabez rose to go.

"I'll get back," be said. *' I only came down to let thee know the lad was safe wi' me."

" I ha' a mind to gang wi' thee," returned Joan, sadly.

" Nay, bide here, granny ; he's all reet in my bed, and I'll come down when he wakes i' the morning."

Eager to prevent even Joan from seeing her grandson in his physical and moral degradation, Jabez succeeded in persuading her to remain where she was. Besides, it was an ugly night, and it was a goodish stretch to the mill. He shook hands with Jasper, and then, bending over Joan, kissed her on the forehead.

"It's nowt, grannie, it's nowt," he said. "I'll go bail for our lad, he'll ne'er forget hissen again ; and after all, lads will be lads."

He left her sitting in a brown study, tears in her kindly old eyes, which were fixed on the fire. Was it, she thought, a castle in the air, after all ? Was Jack no hero, and she no prophetess, and would there never be the wedding of which she had long dreamed ? Hopeful by nature, and full of faith in human nature, she soon began to brighten. Jasper was right. Jasper had been no saint, and yet he had been the best of husbands. As for Jack, he had his wild oats to sow, and it was just because he was so good that she had been

JABEZ PRYKE'S VIGIL. 109

shocked by the account of his backsHding. By- and-by, encouraged by her change of manner, Jasper put in another word, and this time his wife thought he spoke hke a sensible man. AVhen they rose to go to bed, they were both of a mind. Jack was a hero still, and that little affair of the wedding was bound to come right.

Meantime Jabez Pryke walked back to the town through the darkness and the rain. He did not hasten, though it was getting very late, and, full of his own disappointment, he was indifferent to the weather. Argue with himself as he might, he could not shake av/ay the gloom which oppressed him. He had felt more passionately stirred on more than one occasion, but never so cheerless and depressed. His heart was like lead. Could it be that the shadow of some dreadful calamity was already upon him? If psychology be true, that was possible.

He passed the churchyard, and, instead of turn- ing into the town, walked on towards The Oaks, and, full of some irresistible impulse, looked up at the house of the Denes. The house was dark, but a light burned in one of the upper windows. A shadow crossed the blind, and he recognized it was the shadow of Eachel Dene.

With the rain streaming upcn his world-worn face, he watched the shadow come and go, and prayed that God might be pitiful, and not turn the maiden's heart against his boy. He would have liked to enter and stand before her, and plead

ixo RACHEL DENE.

poor Jack's cause, explaining his faults away. His instinct told him that she would be a partial listener. He had more dread of the stern old Quaker, Jacob Dene. Proud to the backbone, and severe on human error, Jacob would be certain to take the worst view of the case.

Sighing heavily, he turned back into the dark- ness, and walked slowly to the mill.

Alone in her chamber, daintily furnished with every luxury that love and wealth can give, Rachel sat before her mirror, thinking. Her hair flowed down in a shower of gold over her loose dressing- gown, and her bare feet were thrust into satin slippers. She had dismissed her maid for the night, and was quite alone.

All the evening she had been distraught and sad, for her thoughts had been constantly with the lad who had once saved her life. Up till that day she had thought of him with kindness, had been tender and grateful to him, eager for his success, hopeful of his future, but she had been unconscious of any stronger feeling towards him than one of womanly sympathy. Now it was quite different. The very shock she had received on witnessing his degradation had opened her eyes, and she knew, for the first time, how deep a lolace he had in her young heart.

Jacob Dene had loudly expressed his indignation — on the way home, at the dinner-table, in the drawing-room after dinner — and she had been

JADEZ PRYKE'S VIGIL. \\i

unable to say a word in Jack's defence, for she, too, in spite of her ne^Yly-discovered affection, was indignant. She could not shut away the sight she had seen — the wild, flushed face, the struggling form, the laughing crowd, the whole horrible scene in the ring at Doncaster. Even in his madness, however. Jack Heywood had looked a splendid fellow, and he had never seemed so handsome in her eyes. Hitherto he had appeared a little commonplace, somewhat too uniformly good and virtuous, with all the rough worth and steadiness of the dull mechanic ; and Eachel, Quakeress as she was, and innocent to the iinger-tips, had been inclined to patronize him. Now, he seemed another being — wickeder and wilder, of course, and more dangerous. The best of women love a man who can be reckless upon occasion, and Eachel was no exception to the rule. She was shocked, she was offended, she was amazed, she was intensely indignant. But she was in love !

She sat before the glass, looking wistfully at herself, and thinking it all over. Her thoughts went back to the time when she and Jack were the poor siege-children, transplanted from India to grow in Deepdale. She remembered Jack as a boy, and afterwards as a bright, handsome lad, whom she had almost looked upon as a brother. All along she had been conscious of his timid worship ; but never until to-day had she realized the sentiment which had been slowly growing in her own heart. The dawning of love in a young

113 RACHEL DENE.

maid's heart is like the rosy flush of sunrise on a summer dawn, when the leaves stir, the birds begin to sing, and the air is full of a dewy sense of joy. Full of her own loveliness, the warmth of her own life, she felt her indignation die away in a new sense of luxur}'^, of yearning. She would have liked to have gone to Jack that very minute, and comforted him, and made him promise never to go wrong again. He was so bright, so clever ; the world was beginning so well for him ; and yet he was in trouble. Love and pity struggled within her, and for the time being, in spite of moral indignation, in spite of surprise and sorrow, the lad's cause was won.

" How foolish I am ! " she thought. " I ought to be very angry, for he looked dreadful, and 'tis a shame indeed to see a man so degrade himself before the world. I thought him so gentle and quiet, too ! No wonder grandpapa was shocked ! When I see Jack he shall know that I am very angry!"

But, in a little while, she smiled at herself in the glass, and murmured, softly, " Poor fellow ! "

( 113 ) CHAPTER XIII.

UP AT THE MILL.

The rain was falling fast, and Joe Styles, the ^vatcllmau, after taking bis accustomed rounds, which he did every two hours, was sitting in the engine-room, smoking his pipe, and playing a hand at cribbage with Jem Wright, the stoker, who was, of course, off duty. The watch-dog, Leo, lay fast asleep at his master's feet.

Both Styles and Wright had been to pay their respects at the shrine of St. Leger, and were full of the events of the day.

Both had lost in the mill sweepstakes, and both were considerably vexed at the defeat of the favourite. They kept a pretty sharp look-out on the game, though, and it was only during the intervals of dealing that they compared notes.

"Well, well," observed Styles; "hasn't Jack Hey wood got his cargo aboard ! "

" I never heerd o' un i' that way afore," replied Wright.

" Nor I either. He'll ha' an awful head on him i' t' mornin'. It's nowt to say he was screwed; he was clean daft. Well, t' lad will be sore 'shamed o' hissen to-morrow — that is, if he remembers owt about it. First game to me, Jem. It's thy deal, lad. Gie us a bit o' baccy while I mek cards for thee."

At this moment the clock struck twelve.

114 RACHEL DENE,

Just upon the last stroke Jabez reached the mill. As he got outside the quadrangle, looking up, he saw a light in the counting-house.

Now, a light there after business hours was unusual, hut a light there at midnight was extra- ordinary'.

" It canna be Styles," muttered Jabez ; " he has no means o' gettin' in. Except t' gaffer, no one has the pass-key— nobbut mysen."

Quick as lightning it flashed through his mind that many heavy remittances had arrived by that morning's post, and that, in consequence of every- body hurrying off to Barnolby to catch the train, they might not have been paid into the bank.

"Anyhow," he continued, "the safe's all reet, for I've got t' key here i' my pocket."

To his horror, he found that he had lost his bunch of keys.

Then it occurred to him that, in his haste to get away— for Jack was dreadfully afraid they would miss the train — he had left the keys behind him.

For a moment the thought paralyzed him. It seemed as if he had been guilty of a criminal negligence, amounting almost to a breach of trust. Suppose a robber, a burglar, should have found his way to the counting-house ?

He grasped his stick firmly, and disappeared rapidly down the passage which led to the con- geries of offices amongst which the counting-house was situated. Without thinking of alarming the watchman, he passed alone up the stairs.

UP AT THE MILL. 115

Meanwhile, fortune had been favourable to Jem Wright in the contest at cribbage, which was still going on at the engine-house.

** Fifteen two, fifteen four, fifteen six, a pair's eight, a pair's ten, and one for his nob's eleven. Game, Joe."

** Well, that's game and game ; now for the conqueror, and I'll gang home. Tak' three while I deal."

As Styles proceeded to deal the cards, a loud cry, loud like a human cry, startled the players to their feet. It startled the dog, too, who leaped up, emitting a fierce growl.

" Jem," said Styles, dropping the cards, " there's murder goiu' on somewhere, lad ! "

"It's a man a-callin'," responded the other. "If it had been a woman, now, I'd ha' thowt nought about it. Happen some chap might ha' been purrin' her a bit to keep her in order, and they wenches are apt to cry out afore theer hurt ! "

Again came the cry, this time shriller than before ; again Leo growled ominously.

" It's in t' mill, lad ! Bear a hand, and stir thy stumps," said Styles ; " and bring wi' thee yon crowbar — it may be useful."

So saying, they started for the front side of the mill — the side from whence the sounds arose. They reached the quadrangle. Once more came the voice, getting feebler and feebler still.

f* Sure as death," said Styles, "that's Jabez

ii6 RACHEL DENE.

Pryke's voice, if ever Jabez spoke. Let's put on steam, or we may be too late."

As they rapidly crossed the quadrangle, they heard above them the tramp of struggling feet, the noise of furniture being overturned, and of men engaged in a deadly strife.

Looking up, they saw, in a confused mass, the shadows of two struggling human figures cast upon the lighted window-blind of the counting-house. Evidently two men were intertwined together in a death-struggle.

The watchers stood paralyzed for a moment; but as the dog leaped up, barking furiously, the shadows melted away like a dissolving view. Then they took a new shape. One figure stood erect and alone, with arms thrust forth in defence or defiance, while the other, recoiling from the fierce impact, staggered backward, and vanished from view. Simultaneously arose a terrible sound — a shrill, piercing cry, like that of a dying horse in the last moments of its agony, when torn to pieces by shot or shell upon some bloody battle- field; then came the dull, heavy thud of a falling body, then silence, for even the dog trembled and crouched in terror at his master's

heel.

The weird phantasmagoria we have endeavoured to describe barely occupied thirty seconds; but Buch seconds !

As the solitary figure above stood erect and motionless, with arms uplifted, a colossal silhouette

UP AT THE MILL. 117

of despair, or remorse, or both, the watchman and the stoker had arrived beneath the window.

The one took out his revolver and examined it carefully in the moonlight, and grasped Leo by the collar, while the other shouldered his crowbar, and both men and dog disappeared noiselessly up the dark, tortuous passage before them.

It took them a minute or two to thread their way through the darkness before they could reach the corridor on the first floor, where they were brought to a halt by the sound of a voice exclaim- ing, in agonizing tones, *'0h, Jabez, Jabez, 'tis I who have killed thee ! "

At the sound, the mastiff struggled to get free.

Eeleasing him. Styles said, " Good lad, go for un ! Hi, lad, go ! "

Growling fiercely, with eyes aflame, and bristling hair, the dog sprang into the counting-house.

The men without waited anxiously for what might come, for, when roused, Leo was a ferocious brute. To their astonishment his yells of defiance subsided into a howl so pathetic, that it reminded Joe (who had served in the constabulary in the sister isle) of the plaintive wailing of women at an Irish keening.

They stayed to hear no more, but burst into the room.

What a sight it was that met their eyes !

The safe, thrown wide open, appeared to have been rifled; the cash-box lay overturned on the floor, and its contents — coin, drafts, and bank-

ii8 RACHEL DENE.

notes — were scattered in reckless confusion in every direction ; the scanty furniture was over- turned and broken; while midst the debris, with white face, and glaring eyes, and gashed temples, lay Jabez Pryke, stone dead, in a pool of blood.

Over the body stood Jack Hey wood.

He was half dressed, and seemed wholly demented.

His shirt and his hands were bedabbled with blood, his hair stood up erect, and his eyes were starting from his head. The dog lay whining and shivering at his feet ; while, utterly regardless of the men's appearance. Jack continued to bewail the murdered man, with tears and cries, and sobs of half-stupefied remorse.

Finding it impossible to obtain any coherent or rational statement from him, Styles despatched the stoker to ring the alarm bell, while he, still gripping his revolver, continued to mount guard. A minute afterwards the bell rang out through the storm, startling hill and dale.

CHAPTEE XIV.

THE DEAD MAN.

The bell rang out in the night, high above the shrill crying of the wind, startling every dwelling in Deepdale, and sounding far away across the lonely rain-beaten moor. In an incredibly short

THE DEAD MAN, iiQ

space of time the streets and lanes were thronged with masses of people surging towards the mill in a murmuring stream.

" What's t' matter ? " " Hast t' reservoir bust up at t' head, or is t' mill afire?" ''Who's ringing t' bell ? " " Hark yonder ! " " This way — this way ! " were some of the cries that rose upon the night.

The throng swept in at the mill gate, and filled the great quadrangle. Men, women, lads and lasses, little children, confusedly mixed together. They saw with wonder the lights in the upper windows of the main building ; they heard the bell shrieking high above them ; and while the rain swept down upon them, and the wind moaned, they were moving towards the passage leading upward, when the bell suddenly ceased, and the figure of the stoker appeared before them crying, *' Silence ! keep back, lads ! " And in answer to their questioning cries, he added, "It's murder, lads ! T' overseer's Ij^ing up yonder, dead ! "

Then, in spite of his warnings, they flocked up the stair, and the foremost among them rushing into the room, saw Jack Heywood standing over the overseer's dead body moaning and wailing, while the dog crouched at his feet, and the watch- man looked on aghast. From those who crowded into the room, to those who ranged outside, from the counting-house to the quadrangle, from the quadrangle to the street, and on through the little town, the news spread like wild-fire. Murder had

120 RACHEL DENE.

been done ! Jabez Pryke bad been killed up at tbe mill, and young Jack Heywood had been taken almost red-banded in the act.

Had he been any other than Jack Heywood he would have been torn to pieces by the mob ; but he was too well known and too beloved, and those who knew them could scarcely believe their eyes or ears. So, when the constables appeared pushing their way through the throng, and had their hands upon him, there was a murmur of wonder, almost of indignation. Eapidly and breathlessly the watchman panted out his story, and told all that he had heard or seen. Jack listened as if dazed, but when the constables seized him he uttered a shriek, and tried to tear himself free.

At this juncture Jacob Dene ai)peared, looking white and stern. Told the whole terrible truth, he gazed at the wretched lad, saying, "I warned thee, Jack Heywood. This comes of the drink that made thee mad at Doncaster. Thou hast slain thy best friend."

"Jabez, Jabez ! " shrieked Jack, gazing in horror and despair on the dead man.

There was no doubt; he was dead indeed. A doctor, summoned in haste, pronounced life to bo quite extinct. Horrified and awe-stricken, the crowd looked on, while the constables handcuffed their prisoner, in spite of his appealing cries.

Suddenly there came another sound, the shriek of a woman. Wild, ghastly, tottering, Joan Heywood pushed her way into the counting-house

THE DEAD MAN. 121

like one demented; but when she saw the man, who had parted from her full of lusty life only an hour before, lying dead upon the floor ; when she beheld the other, whom she loved dearer than her own life, standing there with hair and hands bedabbled with blood, she fell wailing upon her knees, and with outstretched arms besought her grandson to prove his innocence of a crime so hideous. Dazed and stupefied. Jack ceased to struggle, and looked at her wildly ; then, with a mad cry, he hid his face in his hands and sobbed aloud.

That night was one long remembered in Deep- dale. Men and women thronged the streets till daybreak, discussing the terrible event. Hitherto, in that happy valley, crime of any serious kind had been almost unknown ; and now, for the first time, the peaceful spell was broken by a deed so horrible, so infamous, as almost to transcend belief.

Meantime Ralph Hollis had let himself in with his latchkey, and gone to bed at once. When the news of the murder reached the Vicarage, as it did before many hours had passed, Mrs. Hollis tried her son's door and found it locked; then she knocked softly, but received no reply.

"Poor lad, he is tired out!" she said. "Let him rest till the morning — it will be time enough to tell him then."

But Ralph Hollis knew too well alrcad3\ Crouch- ing in his chamber, he had heard the tolling bell.

132 RACHEL DENE.

the tumult, the alarm ; and peering from his window he saw the lights moving about the town, and the whole place awake. Towards daybreak he fell into a troubled sleep, broken by bad dreams. He was awakened by a knocking at his door, and opening his eyes, saw the daylight streaming in at the window.

" Ealph ! " cried his mother's voice. " Are you awake?"

" Yes, mother."

** There has been murder at the mill. Jabez Pryke, the overseer, has been killed by young Hey wood. Get up at once ! "

He heard her descend the stairs, and staggered from his bed, his eyes wild, his face blanched and terror-stricken. Instinctively he moved to the glass, and shuddered at the reflection mirrored there. His head went round, his brain was still full of the fumes of drink, and he could hardly realize what had occurred. When he did so, he sank as if paralyzed on his knees by the bedside, and hid his face in his hands. Nearly an hour passed thus, when he was disturbed by a second knocking at his door, and started up, trembling like a leaf.

" Ealph, are you ready ? " cried the voice.

"I am dressing, mother ! "

His parched and bloodless lips could hardly frame the words.

" Let me in ! I mmt speak to you ! "

He hesitated for a moment, then conquering

THE DEAD MAN. 123

himself with an effort, he opened the door. To his surprise, his mother, scarcely looking into his face, threw her arms wildly around his neck.

"Mother, is it true," he gasped, "that the overseer "

"Yes, he has been murdered, and the whole place is in alarm ! " she replied. Then, looking into his face and seeing it so white and bloodless, she added, " No wonder you are horrified ! It is terrible ! Young Heywood did it, and has been arrested ! "

" My God ! " he murmured.

" But it is not that which has brought me back again. Oh, Ealph ! I am sorry, very sorry, for Algy, but I cannot forget that he was always so unkind to you, my darling! "

" What do you mean ? " cried Ralph,

" Eead that ! " she answered, putting a telegram into his hand. With eyes dim, and head swimming round, he read as follows : —

" To Ralph, Earl of Beauchamp, the Vicarage, Deepdale.

"My Lord,

"Y'our uncle died this morning, at two o'clock. I await your lordship's commands.

"Richard Barkins."

124 RACHEL DENE,

CHAPTER XV.

THE INQUEST.

Although Jack Heywood was a general favourite, opinion at the moment of his arrest was much divided against him. For the news had spread everywhere of the fight at Doncaster ; of the violent altercation, and the yet more violent threats uttered against Jahez in Jack's drunken frenzy during the homeward journey ; of the sus- picious circumstances under which he was found with the murdered man ; and, lastly, of his own self-uphraidings and self-accusations.

Despite all this, there were two or three women who believed in the lad's innocence, as trul}^ as they believed in the justice of Heaven.

"Were they to lay down a pack o' Bibles, and swear he did it, I wouldn't believe 'em ! My own heart knows my boy is innocent ! " sturdily declared Joan Heywood. And Eachel ? When Jacob Dene alleged that Jack was guilty, she said, quietly, "Grandpa, if that is thy opinion, we need not discuss the matter any further. I've known Mr. Heywood from childhood, and know that he is not capable of an act so wicked."

" I believe the child is right," chimed in Mrs. Dene.

" I hope it may prove so," rejoined Jacob ; " but things look black against him."

THE INQUEST. 123

Meanwhile the body of the murdered man had been left alone, while Jack was also put under lock and key at the Bound House; nor was ho alone either, for even the autocrat of Deepdalo could not find it in his heart to say nay to Joan Heywood's request to be permitted to stay with her grandson.

The poor soul watched over his fevered sleep for the night, and administered such homely remedies as her own experience might suggest, or Doctor Whitaker's skill prescribe, but administered them in vain, for as yet the wretched lad lay void of sense and motion, almost of life.

When he returned to consciousness, and found himself in the Bound House, he could not compre- hend what had brought him there ; or why his head was splitting, his throat parched and swollen, and his whole body a burning fire. As yet he could not form his thoughts into shape ; indeed, he had no clear recollection of anything which had occurred after the affair in Doneaster. The drink which in the first instance had maddened him, in the second had stupefied his senses into oblivion.

After vainly trying to arrive at a conclusion whether he w^as awake or dreaming, he turned and caught sight of Joan Hey wood.

Starting up, he tried to speak ; but he was unable to articulate a syllable.

As he fell back, he pointed to his choking throat, and Joan quickly brought him some water.

135 RACHEL DENE.

When he had allayed his raging thirst ho gasped, "What's come, granny? and why am I here ? "

"They brought thee here last neet, lad," she answered sadly.

"What for?"

**I canna tell thee."

*' Canna tell, canna tell ! Surely it's not for punchin' that thief s head at Doncaster ? Don't cry, granny, don't cry, but send for grandad and Jabez to get mc out of this rat-trap."

"Jabez, lad, Jabez," moaned the old woman; " woes me, poor Jabez ! "

And she broke down utterly.

There was no help for it; he must know all. Better that he should learn it from her than from his gaoler.

When at length the truth was borne in upon the wretched lad's mind, his amazement and consternation were only equalled by his grief. At first the thing appeared too monstrous, too incredible for belief. Yet, even as she spoke, he saw, or seemed to see, as if in some awful vision, the white face of Jabez, the staring eyes, the pool of blood, the open safe, the rifled cash-box, and the dog crying at his feet.

Could it be possible that, in the delirium of drink, he had dared to lift his parricidal hand against his friend, his more than father ? If he knew himself, that could never be, for truly he would gladly have laid down his own life for Jabez

THE INQUEST. 127

Pryke. But, alas ! he knew also that yesterday he was not himself !

Catching sight of his blood-stained linen, and his bloody hands, he flung himself on the ground in an agony of grief. His tears, his cries, his inarticulate expressions of anguish, pierced the poor grandam's heart. She tried to soothe him, but in vain ; he was inconsolable. Under any circumstances, the loss of Jabez would have been one of the greatest calamities which could have befallen him ; but to lose him under such circum- stances was beyond horror. He tried to think, to recall what had happened; but some connecting link of memory was gone altogether, or, at any rate, refused to cohere. How came he at the mill at all ? That was the very first question he asked himself; but he was unable to answer it. When Joan explained that Jabez had taken him there, he had not the faintest recollection of the occur- rence. The pressure on his nerves was so great, the charge against him so awful, the crime itself BO foul, strange, and unnatural, that the bare thought of it drove him to despair.

" Oh, grannie, grannie," he cried, *' you know I couldiia do it ; my arm would have rotted from my body first ! But could — oh, could I, while that infernal poison was working i' my brain — could I have been so mad, so wicked, as to lift my hand against him ? Oh, that I were dead ! God knows I would have died fifty times over for his sake. Oh, Jabez, Jabez, my dear old dad — my dear old dad ! "

128 RACHEL DENE.

Joan tried by every means in licr power to awaken his dormant memory and to supply the missing link, but in vain.

Meanwhile, the sad news had an unlooked-for effect on Jasper Heywood, for it cured his rheu- matics like magic.

Jumping out of bed, he roared, " It's a lie— a lie of the devil's own making ! An' Jabez, too- dear old Jabez ! Why, t' lad wouldn't 'a harmed a hair o' his head! He loved un too well for that ! "

With that he scrambled into his clothes, and, regardless of his rheumatism, ran up the valley to the Eouud House like a two-year-old.

Throwing his arms round Jack, he cried, " Cheer up, lad— cheer up ! If all t' saints in t' calendar were to come back to life and swear they seed it, I'd tell 'em they were liars! /And a thief, too! Why, dang un, theer never was a thief i' t' family, from curfew time upwards ! As for brass, why, we've gotten enow, and to spare ! Go thy ways, owd woman, to Barford, and see owd Grainger, t' lawyer, and tell un to come here and stand up for Jack at crowner's 'quest. Go at once, lass, and I'll stay here and blow a bit o' baccy wi' t' lad."

Without another word, Joan went off to Barford to retain the solicitor, while Jasper tried to cheer up his unfortunate grandson.

At the post-mortem examination it was discovered that Jabez's skull was badly fractured, and that

THE INQUEST. 129

the temporal artery of the right temple had been severed as clearly as if it had been cut in two with a lancet.

When the inquest took place the next day, the jury, after hearing the evidence of Stokes and "Wright, at the coroner's direction, without a moment's hesitation, returned a verdict of "Wilful murder " against Jack, who was that night trans- ferred to Barford. When brought before the stipendiary, Grainger, the solicitor, alleging that he had not yet had time to consult his client, requested a remand, which was granted to that day week.

Barford Gaol was not Deepdale Eound House ; and when, after a painful parting with his grand- father and grandmother, Jack was consigned to his solitary cell, he appeared quietly but utterly demented.

The mystery and the horror of the thing increased day by day, and no single ray of light appeared to illumine the darkness which enshrouded it. Up at the Oaks, and down at the cottage, and through the whole valley of Deepdale, men's minds, and women's, too, were occupied with nothing else. The men saw the case with their heads, and they were reluctantly compelled to arrive at the conclu- sion that, in a fit of mad drunkenness, Jack had done the deed. The women, who saw only with their hearts, refused to believe that it was pos- sible for him, under any circumstances, to kill the man he loved so dearly. Both men and

K

I30 RACHEL DENE.

women sympathized with the unhappy lad in his tribulation.

As for Eachel, angry, ashamed as she was at the disreputable scene in Doncaster, she never beheved for an instant that his was the hand that struck the blow.

Jacob Dene and the vicar were both puzzled at the commission of such a crime in the absence of all motive. Their opinions, however, underwent a change in consequence of a piece of evidence which transpired at the next examination. The betting man from Sheffield, reading an account of " The Deepdale Mystery " in the Yorkshire Post, con- cluded to make tracks for Barford, to see if there was any chance of " copping " that five and twenty pounds which Jack had omitted to send him.

Now, it must be premised that, after repeated consultations with his client, Mr. Grainger could make neither head nor tail of his case. The evidence for the prosecution commenced with the statement of the Deepdale lads who had accom- panied prisoner and deceased from Doncaster. They testified to prisoner's mad demeanour, his violence, his abuse, and his threats. Then came the watchman and the stoker ; and, lastly, to the astonishment of everybody, Mr. Thomas Yondal.

That worthy had made some inquiries of the chief constable, with the result that, almost before he knew where he was, he found himself in the witness-box. He deposed as to the betting, and the fight at Doncaster ; the debt of five and twenty

THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP, 131

pounds; prisoner's appeal to deceased to pay it; his refusal, and the subsequent quarrel.

As Grainger listened, be felt that every word of this evidence was a strand in the rope that was to hang his unfortunate client ; and ho merely shrugged his shoulders, stating that he reserved his defence.

"That being the case," said the stipendiary, "the prisoner is committed to take his trial at Leeds Assizes."

CHAPTER XVI.

THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP.

Within an hour after he had heard the news of his accession to the earldom, Ealph Hollis was on horseback, riding full-speed to Barford. Wild and pale, with blood-shot eyes, he had come from his chamber to receive the congratulations of his mother and the vicar ; then, without breakfasting — for he declared he had no appetite — he had gone round to the stable, and ordered his horse to bo saddled at once.

" Poor boy ! " sighed his mother. " The surprise was a joyful one, but a shock notwithstanding. He can scarcely realize his good fortune."

Ealph returned to the front of the house, followed by the groom leading the horse. Mrs. Hollis came

132 RACHEL DENE,

out to the porch, and was again startled to see how dazed and strange her son still appeared.

"Mother," he said nervously, "I am just going over to Barford, and shall telegraph to London from there."

''Won't you go first to the Oaks, and tell the Denes ? "

*' I leave that to you," answered the young man. " I shall be back very soon. What with one thing and another, I feel rather upset. I shall be all right after a gallop in the fresh air."

Grasping the reins with hands that trembled violently, he mounted his horse and rode rapidly away, his mother watching him with proud and loving eyes till he disappeared. In her joy at the good fortune, Mrs, Hollis had quite forgotten the dark affair which had occurred the previous night. All her heart was full of pride and happiness.

" I will go to Eachel," she said, *' and tell her the good news."

So, while Ealph was riding towards Barford, she went and found Eachel Dene. But when she spoke of Pvalph's good fortune, of his accession to wealth and a great title, Eachel scarcely seemed to hear or heed. The young girl's whole heart was occupied with two feelings — tenderness for the poor lad just committed for a terrible crime, and indignation against those who could possibly believe him guilty. All her soul was at last awake. Sharp on her discovery of the true state of her feelings towards Jack Heywood had come the

THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 133

announcement that lie was a criminal, arrested for murder. It was almost too horrible for belief.

"Are you not glad, Kachel," said Mrs. Hollis, ** of my boy's good fortune ? "

Eachel looked at her sadly, with eyes full of tears.

" Of course I am glad, for his sake," she answered; "but to-night I can think of one thing only — 'tis so strange, so terrible ! Mr. Heywood is accused of murdering his foster-father, and, although I am sure he is innocent, it looks so black against him."

Mrs. HoUis looked in her face, and saw there, with womanly instinct, the confession of the truth — that Eachel had given her heart to the man who had once saved her life. Well, after all, it did not matter much now. The new Earl of Beauchamp might look higher than the heiress of the Denes. The day before, such a match would have been social salvation for her son — for them all ; but a few hours had changed the cards, and Ealph was master of the situation.

Meantime, Ealph rode towards Barford. Quitting Deepdale by the high road, he reached the open moor, and, drawing rein, looked back and saw, looming darkly against the morning sky, the black outline of the mills. A shudder ran through his frame as he thought of the dead man lying there, and of the living man already a prisoner in the Eound House.

"My God!" he murmured. "If I had only known yesterday ! Too late — too late ! "

134 RACHEL DENE.

Full sunsliine lay upon the moor and sparkled on the river, for the clouds of last night's rain had passed away, and fresh airs were winnowing the sky to purest azure. All the world looked bright and glad ; but Ealph saw only darkness and desola- tion. Haggard and pale, he turned his horse's head again, and hurried on.

It was a good long ride to Barford, and more than once on the way thither he halted at roadside inns, and plied himself with ardent spirits. The liquor put some heart into him, and brought a little colour to his cheeks, so that by the time he reached the great town he was more master of himself. Eiding up to the principal hotel in the High Street, he dismounted, handed his horse to an ostler, and strolled into the coffee-room. He had not yet breakfasted, but he felt no hunger whatever; so he ordered a glass of brandy, and had just drunk it when a hand was laid upon his shoulder. Starting, and growing deadly pale, he turned and encountered the familiar face of Captain Fitzherbert.

"Hullo, old fellow," said the Captain; "3^ou've left your premises and come over early. Come to settle, eh? I'm glad of that, for some of our fellows were talking about you last night, and were rather rusty."

Ealph did not answer ; his tongue clung to the roof of his mouth, and he trembled nervously.

"Anything the matter?" asked Fitzherbert, looking at him in some astonishment.

THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 135

*' Nothing, nothing ! " answered the young man. "I'm a little upset after yesterday, that's all ! "

"Hot coppers, eh? By-the-by, what's this about a murder down at Deepdale ? The news came over this morning by the carrier."

" It isn't exactly a murder," said Ralph, avert- ing his eyes, and looking through the window into the street. ** A row of some sort between our old overseer and that young fellow we had in tow yesterday. The lad got blind drunk, there was a quarrel, and something ugly happened. But it isn't murder ! No, no ! not murder ! "

The Captain's face grew very grave.

"I'm confoundedly sorry," he said. " The old man has been killed, at any rate, hasn't he ? "

Ealph nodded.

" Well, it's an ugly business for both of us ! "

" For us ! What business is it of ours ? "

" Well, we played the youngster a trick, didn't we, and doctored his drink ? The cursed stuff must have made a madman of him, and you see "

" It was only a lark," cried Ealph, eagerly. "How could we foresee what was going to happen ? As for the lad, I'm sorry for him, and I'll do my best to help him — yes, by the Lord, I will ! "

" I hope you will," returned Fitzherbert. " But now, about our fellows and that money ? Have you got it ?"

" No," was the reply.

136 RACHEL DENE.

" Then I'm afraid there'll be a row. I warned you," said the Captain.

" I think they'll give me time," said Ealph, forcing a sickly smile. " Yon will, at any rate, won't you ? The fact is, old fellow — but haven't you heard ? I'm in clover at last ! The old man died last night, and I got the telegram this morning."

Fitzherbert was at once astonished and de- lighted.

" I'll tell the boys," he cried. " Give you time ? I should think they would now." But he added as he wrung the young Earl's hand, " I'm sorry about that poor devil of a workman, though ! I wish we hadn't met him yesterday."

While Fitzherbert went round to the barracks to tell the officers of his friend's change of fortune, Ealph ordered breakfast to be prepared in a private room. When the meal was ready he entered the chamber, and found a fire burning on the hearth, and everything very comfortable.

"I'll ring if I want anything more," he said to the waiter. ** Stop, though ; I want you to send me a telegram. Bring me a form at once."

When the man brought the form, Ralph wrote the telegram out as follows, and addressed it to Barkins, the confidential valet of the deceased Earl :—

" Yours received, I shall come on to London as soon as possible. Beauchamp, White Lion Hotel, Barford. "

THE EARL OF DEAUCHAMP. 137

Directly the waiter left the room, Ealph rose up and locked the door ; crossing to the window, which was on the first floor, he looked out nervously into the street ; then, secure from obser- vation, he opened his coat, and took from the breast pocket a roll of bank-notes and papers. His hands shook like leaves, and his face was as white as death, as he turned the papers over.

Startled by the sound of footsteps along the corridor, he thrust them back into his bosom, and stood listening ; but the steps passed by, and he breathed again. Conquering his agitation with a great effort, he knelt down before the fire, and placing the papers one by one in the blaze, watched them rapidly consuming; bank-notes, bills of exchange, letters of credit, all shared the same fate. In a few minutes, every one of them had disappeared, save for a few charred fragments and pieces of film that fluttered on the top of the blazing coal. As if fearful that even these might betray his secret, he seized the poker and dis- persed the ashes into the surrounding flame. At last, rising to his feet, he stood again listening. All was quite silent. He went tip -toe to the door, unlocked it stealthily, and then sat down to breakfast.

He could not eat; he was too spirit- shaken and terrified; but he hurriedly drank some cups of tea, and swallowed a few morsels of dry toast. He rose again, and looked in the mirror over the

T38 RACHEL DENE.

mantelpiece; Ins face was like a cleatl man's, and his head was swimming round.

A sound of voices, mingled with merry laughter, came from helow, and, ascending the stairs, approached nearer and nearer.

** Eoom twenty-five — all right ! " cried the voice of Fitzherbert.

The next moment the Captain appeared, accom- panied by several young officers of the fighting Forty-First.

" Here we are ! " cried Fitzherbert. " Come to congratulate you, old boy ! "

And Ealph, surrounded on every side by his friends, and felicitated on his good fortune, forcing a spasmodic gaiety, bade them welcome, and ring- ing the bell, ordered champagne and cigars. After a glass or two, he felt better, laughed and joked, and made as merry as possible. Not a word was said on either side of the paper with his signature which some of these young bloods held in their possession. Ealph was the hero of the hour.

He did not return to Deepdale that night, but, while Jack Heywood was languishing in prison, kept it up royally with the officers and Fitz- herbert. Play ensued, of course, and the young Earl lost as usual ; but he did not care, and dis- tributed his paper merrily to the winners, who "were well content to take it. It was long after midnight when he staggered to his bed in the hotel, and fell into a drunken sleep.

He woke next morning with a splitting head-

THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 139

aclie ; but in spite of that, his nerves were calmer, and he had made up his mind to the situation. The Barford newspapers were full of long accounts of the Deepdale tragedy. Sitting at breakfast in his private room, he read through all the horrible details of the murder, the prisoner's arrest and self-accusations, the overwhelming and damning ]Droofs against him.

*' Poor devil ! " thought Ralph the Earl. " One comfort is, they can't make it anything worse than manslaughter. If it was a hanging matter, I think I should go mad ! "

He was now resolved not to return to Deepdale until the affair had blown over. His nerves, he felt, were quite unequal to the ordeal. So ho wrote a hasty letter to his mother, telling her that it was necessary for him to go straight on to London. There was an exDress train to the metropolis at two p.m. ; he determined to take it — a determination which he communicated to Fitzherbert, who stepped in after breakfast.

The Captain, while expressing his approval of the arrangement, returned again to the subject of the murder.

" Seen the papers, of course ? " he said. ** Well, I do hope the poor lad will get off clear, or, at any rate, with a light punishment. I'd go into the box myself to prove that he was blazing drunk, and didn't know what he was doing."

"You'd better not do that," returned Ealph, nervously.

I40 RACHEL DENE.

" Well, perhaps not ; but, by George, I won't stand by quietly if they make out too black a case against him ! I feel still as if it was all our doing —don't you ? "

" No," said Ealph ; " and, for that matter, there will be plenty of people to swear as to his condition."

" It says in the papers that there was money stolen and valuable papers, but the police can find no trace of them. It's queer, now, seeing that he was taken red-handed, that nothing of the sort was found upon him. But what's the matter? You look as white as a ghost ! "

" I've a confounded headache," stammered Ralph. *' Two nights of it, you know ! Besides, this business of the succession has come upon me so suddenly that I don't know whether I'm standing on my head or my heels."

" I suppose not," laughed the Captain. '* By George, though, I should like to be in your shoes ! You wanted the tin badly enough, old fellow, and I suppose you don't object to the title thrown in ? "

** Not a bit of it," said Ealx^h, echoing the laugh.

Presently Fitzherbert went away, promising to meet his friend shortly in London; and Ealph was again left alone to his self-reproaches and nervous terrors. Determined to front the world boldly, and put on the brightest face possible, he strolled downstairs and stood at the inn door, Bmoking his cigar and looking at the crowded

THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 141

street. The news of his good fortune had spread by this time; the landlord of the inn came for- ward to congratulate him, while the waiters and chambermaids looked on obsequiously. Several acquaintances came up, and after fresh congratu- lations, passed on. So the time wore away till noon.

As twelve o'clock sounded from the neighbour- ing cathedral, a dog-cart drove up to the door, and Ralph saw, seated beside the driver, the very last person he could have wished to encounter at the moment — Rachel Dene. She was quite alone, and the moment she saw the young man she