CHAPTER V.

"It was not kind

To leave me, like a turtle, here alone,

To droop and mourn the absence of my mate."

OTWAY.

WE must now direct the reader's attention to the travellers, who were progressing slowly towards Italy; for railroads were not even in prospective existence at the period of our story. Mary, although careworn and spirit-broken, exerted her best energies to appear cheerful and content, while the weight of anguish that had oppressed the mind of Winterburn was partly subdued under the influence of the beautiful scenery of the country through which they

passed; upon reaching Florence, his first thought was to call at the post-office to ascertain whether any letters awaited his daughter's arrival; for, with a kind consideration for her feelings, he had, previous to leaving London, instructed a literary friend to call in the Edgeware Road, and forward any communications that might be left there for her; but the answer of the postmaster in the negative, dissipated the hope that had cheered my former tutor throughout the journey; and he then most unwillingly felt confirmed in the opinion that my conduct had been thoroughly base and heartless towards the mother of my child. Mary, although urged by her father's friends to enter into the gaieties of the place, gratefully declined their well-meant kindness; and when Mr. Winterburn attempted to reason her out of her determination, he knew, from her decided and firm tone that they were not to be changed, so for the future forbore to press her upon the subject.

While affairs were thus going on, under the sunny sky of Italy, where all was bright and cheerful, save the heart of her whom my mis

conduct had blighted, I must again return to foggy England, and record actions which I would willingly blot from my remembrance, but that the duty of a faithful chronicler of the story of his life, renders it imperative to lay before the reader. Endless were the inquiries I made after my wife; futile was the attempt to ascertain her movements. In order to leave no stone unturned that might lead to discovery, I employed a most zealous and efficient ex-member of the metropolitan police force, whose first step was to find the hackney coachman that had taken the fugitives from the Edgeware Road; but as that extortionate driver had, as usual, made an overcharge to a party going abroad, the reward offered was not, in his opinion, a sufficient compensation for the chance of three weeks' hard labour in the House of Correction. An application, too, had been made at the respective passport offices; but there was no record of any one having been granted in the name of Winterburn, the fact having been, as it was afterwards proved, that his old one had been viséd at the French embassy and Tuscan Legation.

While pondering over the whole affair, and considering in what new channel I could direct my enquiries, an event occurred which gave me some clue to the object I had in view. Epsom races had commenced, and, as usual, the young officers had horsed and luncheoned a drag to the Downs, of which I formed one. No sooner was the great event of the day, the race for the Derby, over, than we set to work to discuss the next important affeir-cold chickens and champagne.

"Ah! Captain, how do you find yourself?" asked an eccentric individual, decked out in a red coat, nankeen trowsers, with a huge spy-glass to his eyes, and no shoes to his feet. Not being aware that the remark was made to me, and being thoroughly taken up with a lobster-salad, I made no reply, when he resumed :

"Happy to drink a glass of wine with yousweet, if you please. Pembroke, your health!"

At this piece of cool effrontery, I was beginning to feel wrathy, for it was my first appearance at a public race-course; and I was not then aware that the speaker was a privileged

man, when Jerry (for it was that celebrated character) continued:

"Well, I'm not over nice; dry champagne will do as well, or even a glass of brandy-andwater. It's not the first time I've drank that at your expense. Ah! colonel, how d'ye do? You forgot to send me the club buttons of the Pytchley hunt."

"So I did, Jerry," responded a young and fast officer of the Guards; "but you shall have mine, and this coat with them, if you will only wait until to-morrow."

"The buttons, Colonel, if you please, not the coat; for, perhaps in the multiplicity of business, you may have forgotten to pay for it, and your schneider might come down upon me with an execution, and seize the property from my person."

As the man still fixed his wild, glaring eyes upon me, it came across my mind that I had met him before, but certainly not in the costume in which he now appeared; and, as he still importuned me to buy a card, I threw down a handful of halfpence, the change at the