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he said he had recently read in the papers.

So, I thought, he doubted me, and got the newspaper himself.

Uncle Van had himself seen, he said, and talked with the chief officer, and relief had been afforded to all the sufferers, with the exception of one person, a woman of notoriously bad character, who had left the Refuge where she had been hospitably lodged, and had not been seen since. As for the cargo, nothing had been recovered, nor was it likely now that they would hear any more of it.

Mr. Venn, looking at his watch, said he must be going in to lessons, but gave me permission to accompany my uncle to the end of the road, where I could point out to him the shortest way to the town.

After parting from Uncle Van, I turned back leisurely, and seeing that I could not be observed from the school windows, I ventured to stop and look about for the person whom I had supposed to be the old woman with her forbidden tray.

As I approached the breach in the wall, she stepped out. It was not the one I had expected, and I was rather startled by her strange excited manner, -a middle-aged woman, of slatternly appearance, a face that had been handsome, and eyes that were still fine, though wild and roving.

"Come here," she said, addressing me harshly.

I stopped where I was, fearful of advancing towards her.

"I shan't hurt you," she said, with a half-drunken laugh.

I

I did not feel at all sure on this point, and was ready to take to my heels. was not the Napoleon's Old Guard. would not yield, but I would run.

I

Seeing me undecided, she came close up to me.

"Who was that man you were talking to?"

"Which?" I asked, summoning all my courage.

"The one who went in at that door," she replied, indicating the spot with a

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"No," she answered, rudely, "that won't do."

"That is his name."

Before I could utter another word, she had pounced upon my wrist, and was pulling me towards the door.

"In there I mean," she said, stopping exactly opposite.

At this moment the door opened, and Venn himself appeared.

Seeing us, he recoiled one step. The woman released me. "Mr. Venn?" she inquired, in a tone of mock politeness.

He recovered himself quickly.

"Yes. Go in," he said, turning to me; "I was coming in search of you. Go in, and wait for me in the schoolyard."

Then the door was closed behind me, and locked on the outside.

I listened, and heard their footsteps as they walked slowly away, along the road, in the direction of the town, together.

CHAPTER IX.

I RECEIVE AN INVITATION.

PRESENTLY the key turned in the lock, and Mr. Venn entered. Quite blithely for him. "A poor mad woman," he explained cautiously; "take no notice of her if you ever see her again. You'd better not say anything about her to the boys, or the small ones might be frightened. Besides, Dr. Carter would punish you for speaking to her. However, I shall not mention it to him." So we went into work. He was rather cheerful that afternoon, I remember.

At bedtime I told Austin Comberwood all about it, and he asked me if she was anything like Meg Merrilies in "Guy Mannering."

This started our usual evening's entertainment, and I was soon deeply interested in Walter Scott.

We looked out for the mad woman next day, but saw nothing of her.

Austin Comberwood used to tell me how he spent his holidays, and it was quite a treat to hear him talk of his sister Alice, his brother Dick, and his mother. I told him that I had no mother, which seemed so odd to him, that he was silent for some time, and then he questioned me about my holidays, and I was able to tell him about the theatres and the London amusements I had been to, that was all. But he, too, knew of these, so that his enjoyment of the country far outbalanced anything within my experience.

Thus it chanced that I was lonely in the holidays, when I had only servants for associates; but happy at school, for I got on well with the boys, and Austin Comberwood was my very dear friend; but I really could have saved up my pocket-money with pleasure, and paid an uncle to visit me regularly, just to show my companions that I had some friends in the world worth knowing.

There was one excellent creature who never forgot me, and that was Nurse Davis. She called at Old Carter's, but the grandeur of the house, the corpulency of the butler, the haughty condescension of Dr. Carter, and the snappishness of his wife frightened her off the premises. She did not come a second time. I was not sorry for this result. I confess it as against myself, and a fault of the snobbishness of boyhood, that I had grown out of Nurse Davis, as I had out of pinafores.

When I returned to the schoolroom, and was asked who had been to see me, I coloured, and refused to answer. Then, somehow, it got about, through the boy who cleaned the boots, who had heard it from the butler, I think, that it was my nurse, and I was so teased and bullied on the subject, that nothing short of a fight with the two Biffords both at once, which ended in their pitching into one another, and a declaration of active war against the whole school, could settle the question. When they found she had brought me a hamper, and that there were cake and wine and

apples inside, sentiments of the utmost friendship towards me were expressed by every boy in the school.

When Nurse called I was very shy, and found some difficulty in asking after the health of the Verneys, politely singling out Julie for special mention.

"Good-bye, dear, and God bless you," said Nurse Davis at parting; "if you're not too proud to see me when you come home for the holidays"

I protested against her thinking that I should be proud. But somehow I felt that there was truth in it.

And," she continued, "if you ain't yet ashamed of seeing your old

Nurse

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Again I protested, and again I felt that she was right.

"Well, dear, I hope you never will be either too proud or ashamed to speak to those as loves you, and as has brought you up and known you from a child; and if your Aunt Clym only takes as much care of you as I've done, and as I'd ha' done still, if I'd been let alone, I shall be glad to hear of it."

She always disliked Mrs. Van Clym, and so, I said, did I, and positively scorned the idea of their being any comparison between her and my nurse. For this I was rewarded with an embrace, after which the hamper was shown to me in the hall; then repeating her blessing, and with tears in her eyes, she gave me a last kiss, and, without disturbing His Corpulency, The Butler, I let her out of Old Carter's front door.

I sat down in the hall and cried when she had gone. At night too I awoke suddenly, and thought of her; and as it crossed my mind that I had been hard and unkind in my reception of her that day, I burst out crying again, silently, though, on account of my companion, and dropped so many heavy tears on one side of my pillow, that I was obliged to try the other, as dry, cool, and refreshing, and finally, as a stroke of genius, to turn it altogether, and begin my slumbers afresh.

One night, just before Austin Comberwood, who was really quite a Scheherazade in his story-telling, had commenced

the recital of "Guy Mannering," which had reached its third night's entertainment, he said, from under his coverlet,"Cecil."

"Well, Austin."

"Would you like to come home with me next holidays?"

"Very much." My first invitation. "Mamma wrote to tell me to ask you if your papa would let you."

"Oh, of course he will," I replied warmly.

"And you're to stay a long time." "What fun!"

"Dick will be there, and Alice. You'll like my sister Alice so much."

I was sure I should. I should like everybody and everything down atwhat was the name of the place where he lived?

"Ringhurst Whiteboys."

Whiteboys! how we laughed at the name. In itself it was full of promise of amusement. Who were the Whiteboys? Were they ghosts? This was a dangerous subject in the dark, and Austin set me right at once.

"No," he told me, "they were monks who had lived there a long time ago (I will tell you next Scott's 'Monastery' and 'The Abbot'), and who used to dress in white. They were called the White Friars, and Friars in French meant brothers, and so the people came to call them the Whiteboys."

Austin Comberwood, who was better informed than any boy of his own age whom I have ever met before or since, had answered my question with the gravity befitting the subject. He was older, too, than most boys in his ways, and was looked upon by most of us as a bookworm. His memory was excellent, as I have shown; and not being so robust as his companions, he was allowed to bring one of his favourite books out of doors to read, while others played. There was something so gentle, so feminine about him, that I entertained, it seemed to me, towards him much the same kind of affection as I should have had for a sister. I felt, too, when he mentioned his sister, that I was prepared to love her

66

deeply and at once. I say at once," as the Colvin failing is impulsiveness. It may be directed for good or for evil, and so be a blessing or a curse; a strong point in a character, or its weakest. I remember, as well as I remember anything, our conversation on this night, and my great desire to see Alice Comberwood.

"We're going to have some theatricals," said Austin.

"What, with a stage and lights, and dressed up as characters?" I inquired, thinking of my early successes with Der Freischutz and Co.

"and

"We dress up," he answered; Dick, who can carpenter and paint, he makes a scene. We often act-Alice and I and Dick, and sometimes our cousins. Nelly plays the piano for us." "Who's Nelly?"

"My eldest sister. She's married now, and her husband's a clergyman." "I may act, mayn't I?" I asked, with some diffidence.

"Oh yes. Alice says in her letter that if you come you shall be Blue Beard." I was delighted! "And who was to. be Fatima ?

"Oh, Alice, of course."

Alice Comberwood Blue Beard's wife-mine in fact! In imagination-L was then thirteen-I had already, as Blue Beard, allied myself to the Comberwood family.

So we fell to talking over our dresses and our scenes, and I ventured to confide to him such theatrical knowledge as I possessed, and said how I could depend upon Nurse Davis and Mr. Verney to help me with a dress; and then I told him as much about them as I could,, consistently with my own dignity and importance as the future Blue Beard,. possessor of his sister Alice; but I kept silence as to the details of Frampton's Court, and the Verneys' mode of life,. and absolutely did not once mention little Julie.

Then we dropped off to sleep, without. "Guy Mannering," and only thought. of the play-acting, which no doubt. entered largely into our dreams that. night.

CHAPTER X.

CHRISTMAS INVITATION-ACCEPTED-HIDE AND SEEK-A MYSTERIOUS MEETINGSILENCE IS GOLDEN.

A MEMORABLE Christmas. Not the day itself, though that was always a pleasant time for me. I rejoiced in new shillings and sixpences fresh from the Mint, coined, I supposed, purposely for Christmas presents. My father seemed to be worried and annoyed about something, and he and Mr. Cavander were now seldom apart.

Just before Christmas Day came a formal invitation from Austin Comberwood addressed to me, to be referred of course to my father. This proposal he bade me accept at once. I was to leave on the Saturday; he had already arranged to depart on some urgent business the day before. Had I not been thus comfortably disposed of, I should have been sent to Aunt Clym's during my father's absence, for he expected to be away a week or a fortnight.

At my father's request, Uncle Van no doubt would see me into the train for Ringhurst. Uncle Herbert was away.

Our house was not so far from Kensington Gardens but that I could be trusted to roam about there alone, and report myself safely to the housemaid and cook at dinner-time. Kensington Gardens, therefore, had, during the holidays, become my playground, and I was on intimate terms with the park-keepers, the refreshment-stall people, and the waterfowl. When my Clym cousins came to spend a day with me, I took them, by way of treat, to my gardens, and introduced them to the acquaint ances above mentioned.

Now it so chanced, that while my father was turning over in his mind in whose custody I should be sent to the railway station on Saturday, labelled for Ringhurst, Uncle Van appeared with two of my Clym cousins, whom he had brought to see me, and for whom their mamma was to call in the afternoon.

My father told Mr. Clym he was just the man he wanted to see, whereat

Uncle Van adjusted his spectacles, stared, chuckled, and asked what was the matter. Whereupon my father, looking less anxious than I had seen him since my return, took him by the arm and walked him into his brougham, which was waiting to transport him to the city.

On their departure I proposed Kensington Gardens. Thither we went, adjured and admonished, but unaccom. panied.

Robbers and brigands among the trees were our favourite games. There were no rules except those of a fair start to be given to whoever was to assume the lawless character, generally myself. These games were inspired by that love of frightening one another common to all children. To hide anywhere, even though it be in the same place day after day, and then to rush out suddenly, or even to be caught when the surrender itself would be of a startling nature, seem to be among the first notions of juvenile amusement.

Exulting in my superior knowledge of the domain which I had well-nigh come to look upon as my preserves, I was not only able to hide without much chance of detection, but could follow them, after they had passed my place of concealment, and harass them in the

rear.

On this day I chose a large tree not far from the boundary railings, and well in view of one of the summer-houses in the walk beyond; that is, in Hyde Park.

I was deliberating whether I should occupy my time in purchasing refreshments at the gate, or should await my cousins' arrival, when a gentleman and lady walked within a few yards of me towards the entrance to the Park. They were not following the beaten track, but crossing the grass. Neither figure was strange to me, except so far as it was strange to see either there. One I could not mistake, and when he turned round, as if looking out for some one to meet him, I said to myself distinctly, "Why, it's Venn !"

Mr. Venn decidedly. And with him

I recognized the odd woman who had stopped me opposite our school-door.

He was too much associated with school for me to be inclined to welcome him in the holidays; and for his companion, once of her had been more than enough for me. So I held my tongue, remained in ambush, and waited for them to quit the Gardens, as they were evidently on the point of doing.

I watched them out by the gate. They had been conversing earnestly; now they stood still without saying a word, but each turning from the other to explore the distance.

Evidently whoever they had been expecting was disappointing them.

They walked towards the Park slowly. A carriage pulled up at the rails, close by the bridge over the Serpentine.

The door opened, and out stepped Mr. Cavander.

He met Mr. Venn and his companion; then with them he returned to the carriage, which the three entered, Mr. Venn and the woman first, Mr. Cavander delaying a second to give the coachman some directions.

These being ended, he too got in, closed the door himself, and in another minute or so the carriage was lost to my view.

This meeting seemed to me, then, to have something to do with me at school. Flogging perhaps. I did not know what to make of it. My cousins came up and caught me for the first time in their lives in my hiding-place.

They did not know anything about Mr. Venn or Mr. Cavander, and only cared for my playing with them. So at it we went again till dinner-time. In the evening I thought of mentioning it to my father, but he returned home with Mr. Cavander, who was dressed for dinner, and after making his toilette they left together.

I said good night to my father in the hall, and in answer to a request, whereunto I was prompted from the kitchen, he told me that if I liked to go to a theatre in company with one of the servants I could do so. "You will soon be able to go about with me," he added.

But this was quite a formal phrase with him. Mr. Cavander was already in the carriage, and he did not hear the remark. I was glad of this, as, disliking him intensely, the prospect seemed to be a bad compliment to Mr. Cavander, and calculated to make him more my enemy than ever.

The theatre intervened, and I had enough to talk about to my father next morning, though he did not prove much of an audience, being apparently nervous and fidgety. His portmanteau was packed, and he was leaving.

He gave me five pounds, and hoped that that would be sufficient for me at Ringhurst. I stared, and, perversely enough, was not profuse in thanks. The amount had paralysed my gratitude. I did not understand then that I was about to represent him at Mr. Comberwood's, and the ambassador's uniform ought to be something more than ordinary. I had in view various investments for my five sovereigns, and a wish to show them to Austin Comberwood all at once. Also it seemed to me that I should appear before his sister Alice as a gentleman of more weight with my five pounds than with one.

"After next half-year," observed my father, "you will go to Holyshade, and then when you come back for the holidays you will be quite a man."

Always the same burden to his song. Then he said good-bye to me, observed that he should certainly ask Mr. Comberwood to dinner (as a reward, I suppose, for having invited me for a week) on his return to town, and so left me; and all that for the time remained to me of my father, so to speak, were my five golden sovereigns jingling in my trouser pocket.

CHAPTER XI.

UNCLE VAN'S DIFFICULTY-PIPKISON TO THE RESCUE-THE BAA-LAMBS-DIS

TINGUISHED CHARACTERS-ON THE PLATFORM-I MEET AN OLD FRIEND

IN A NEW DRESS.

UNCLE VAN had looked in at the last moment to undertake the charge of me

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