are ready to aid me. Now I will give you your instructions. You must go abroad for me."

Wagner's face fell somewhat. "What do I hear? Do you not know how many places are closed to me? Do you ask me to thrust my head into the lion's jaws. At Antwerp resides the thrice adorable and thrice inconsolable Louise. To her I am dead, a corpse,-a ghost. If she finds me corporeal-what horrors, what explanations! At Brussels I do not care to be. You ask for what? Never mind. It does not agree with me? Perhaps yes, perhaps no. And so again at Munich, at Baden, at-"

Spare yourself the catalogue of your swindling baunts. I send you to none of them. You will go to France ;-to Ardennes. You have no complications there, I hope."

"France recognises my merit. France is grateful."

"Then there is no further difficulty. Now, attend, while I tell you what the young sailor has told me of his early days."

Lascelles then proceeded to lay before Wagner in a few words what the reader has already learnt-the connection between Travers, Trepherson, and Chaumont. He then continued, "Now I am convinced that this man Trepherson is alive. You must go to him as an agent from the Earl respecting his annuity, and must get from him the whole particulars of the case. You can easily do so by declaring that you alone know that the boy is at large, and in England, and that unless he fully satisfies you, you will reveal that to the Earl. But mind, above all, to discover whether he has any documents, which make the most important link in the case. Without the certificate of the marriage of Viscount Oscott, and the birth of his son, I can do nothing. Now, Wagner, leave me. I will write you full instructions and give you a resumé of facts to refresh your memory before you start on your journey. Till then oblige me by not mentioning this subject again. To-morrow you start: to-morrow I go to my old work at Oscott. I have a letter here from the Earl, which shows me I have a battle to fight, and I must brace myself for that. In my illness an interloper has appeared; a distant connection of Lord Walford; and I expect he is trying to supplant me. The mysterious quarrel of the Earl and his son, too, requires my investigation; it may help my cause. So I have plenty in hand. go; I am tired."

Now

Wagner rose, and placing one hand on Lascelles' shoulder, remarked, "I swear, my friend, that you have the greatest mind I

ever encountered."

And what did Lascelles reply? His eye flashed a moment, and then he said, "So much the worse for me.' The door closed on his ally, and his head sunk down on his hands. Thus his shadow was projected on to the blind of the bow window. And some people who walked on the other side of the road, and knew of his illness, remarked that "the sick gentleman was studying his Bible upon his convalescence." Alas, my friends, are we not all shadows, deceiving and deceived?

CHAPTER XIX.

A LITTLE CHAPTER ABOUT NOTHING.

At which point, surely, we may pause and take breathing space. Albeit, a habit in these modern days much to be reprehended, I mean to have a few words with my readers. It is often said that an author has no business to obtrude himself before his readers; that he should narrate dispassionately, and never interrupt his story by comment or remark. I cannot see it. Why should not an author occasionally make, as it were, a little marginal note on the edge of his page to explain some apparent difficulty or discrepancy, or to deprecate criticism for the past by the promise of the future? I don't think any grievous sin is incurred by so doing. The reader feels that his author has an interest in him which he is trying to increase by such a confidence. I remember in my youthful days going to dine at the house of a friend not celebrated for the quantity or quality of his repasts. A genial, buxom lass who assisted at the said dinner, observing my hungry looks, and the zeal with which I attacked the first, and as I thought the only course, gave me a friendly warning of future dainties in these words,-" Leave room, there's pudden coming." Doubtless, I followed her advice. In a similar way, then, I would turn for a few moments' gossip with my friends and readers, and give a hint of "pudden" looming before us. I half fear I have hitherto only provided a course of dry bones. But I never said how many courses were coming; how far the banquet should be Apician or Vitellian in the multitude of its plats. Nay, I even hinted that I did not know myself. Perhaps, after all, it is as well. Who but a thorough gourmand cares for the trouble of ordering or thinking about his dinner? Best left to his chef-decuisine, who shall prepare him delicate surprises against seven o'clock. If Vitellius meditates all day long upon his соепа, dictates the exact number of nightingales' tongues, plovers' eggs, lampreys, and oysters, to be used in the said repast, will he have at cœna time much appetite? after it, much digestion ? Surely not. The cook shall toil and labour and perspire among his stew-pans and gridirons, but his master should know nothing of the process; only the result. Nor should he blame his trusty servant for suddenly improvised surprises and innocent artistic divergencies from the original carte. All of which the reader will perceive amounts to a kind of apology for various observations and meanderings on the author's part. It is a great thing to keep from being tedious; to apologise for it when irrevocable, the next best course. If the courteous reader has yawned, so also has the author: if the former's thoughts have frequently flown off from the narrative, so has the latter's pen been tempted to wander off, and stagger wildly. So this little chapter about nothing is interposed partly as an apology, partly as a safety

valve, and partly as an excuse for a gossip. agreeable.

Irregular, but

For, you see, we are about to enter upon a fresh division of our subject; a new "fytte," in which "Deeds" may be expected to "show" what manner of men their doers are. For up to the present the work of the historian has been to show how the ends and aims of his various characters have tended to drive them asunder like birds frayed away by a stone. Now we have to point out the chain of events which eventually brings them all into contact; and, as a handful of salt attracts wandering pigeons from all quarters, show how one fact and its consequences brought together minds and characters the most various. Allons; let us to our places. Wagner hasten forth by steam and rail to your far-off destination. Search, plot, scheme, lie, and double, to gain your end; it will come in time, perhaps other than you expected. Horace Redmayne, make sure your footing; one is coming with whom to wrestle is dangerous; to fall is fatal. Nor have you, Lascelles, time or opportunity for rest or carelessness. No mean antagonist, though young, awaits you. Go on, and urge that keen brain of yours to its utmost; you have a deep game to play-væ victis. And you, Mr. Huntley, late Lord Oscott, you have yet some lessons to learn, some to forget. Go out on your path boldly and bravely, you have foes and friends to meet whom you cannot miss or pass. Che sara, sara.' And Earl Walford? Well, of him we can only repeat, Che sara, sara!

CHAPTER XX.

PARA THINA POLOPHLOISBOIO THALASSES.

The sun had gone down all golden in a sea of crimson and silver; a fog cloud was creeping out seaward, and a chill night wind beginning to make itself felt. Yet still Huntley continued to pace up and down upon the sea shore at Beverley Marston. Crash, crash, crash, he tramped along among shingle and pebbles, and sand and seaweed, now pausing to watch some boisterous wave expend its strength and dissipate itself in creamy foam upon the beach, now making ducks and drakes with a chance smooth flake of stone or slate, now picking up and trifling with a long ribbon-like fragment of sea-weed, and ever puffing away, half moodily, half carelessly, at his pipe. No longer did he indulge in fragrant Havannahs or delicate Cheroots. He now knew the value of each shilling too well to expend sixpence on half-an-hour's cloud-compelling. Humble Shag or subtle Bird's eye now answered his purpose as well, and the incense which he was now offering to the great Atlantic proceeded from the former of these.

There is no place where a man can think better than the sea-shore. The changeless yet changeful accompaniment of the waves harmonises with every melody or discord which the human heart can

utter. Whatever mood a man may be in, he will find sympathy by the sea; that is, he will be able to extract from its murmurs the exact tone he wishes to hear. So at least thought Huntley, as he strode up and down by himself. Far away to the right, a glittering line of lights marked the fashionable quarter of Beverley, though the distance was too great to allow the incessant noise and Babel of sounds to reach the ear. To the left, one pale glimmering light marked some signal station; while shoreward, in constant though gradual upward march, rose the purple downs, from which the keen wind I have mentioned came pouring on. The sunset colour faded from the sky, leaving only, as it were, its echo on the horizon, where pale cinnamon hues and tender green were barred with long level reaches of darker purple, floating off to the upper grey cloudbank. It was just one of those subtle harmonies of delicate colour which a careless or vulgar mind utterly ignores, but which form half the pleasures of life to those of more cultivated susceptibilities. "One turn more, and I must go in," thought Huntley, as he refilled his pipe, and recommenced his quarter-deck pacing. Just then he saw a glowing point of light emerge from behind a cluster of little boats drawn up on the beach, and first appeared a cigar, and then behind it its smoker, the Rev. Arthur Karslake, who immediately linked arms with his friend. He was quietly laughing to himself.

"What do you think, Ned? I have just come from my rounds, and have effected, by the aid of a pipe of strong shag what I found Cornelius a Lapide powerless to help me in."

"How so ?"

I called on one of my lambs, a cobbler, given to drinking: the burden of my discourse was that he ought not to get drunk; he replied, that was no business of mine. I revealed that I had the care of his soul, and therefore it was my business to see he did'nt lose it; to which he said 'Now you've jawed your jaw, so that's my look out.' That was true, so I changed my ground. 'It was beastly to get drunk.' 'A matter of taste.' It was an extravagant habit'. He could afford it'. 'He would be sorry for it some day'. 'Well, no; perhaps he should die drunk, and then there wouldn't be time to think about it.' Another back-fall for me. I rested on my oars in silence till my friend enquired when I was going to take myself out of his house?' 'Not till we've smoked a pipe together.' I collared a little black one from the chimney-piece, produced my pouch, filled it, and then pushed it over to my friend, the cobbler, with the advice Try it, and help yourself.' There I sat, imperturbably puffing. For a while I was afraid my coup-de-main had failed; my unwilling host looked solid and unmoved. At last he said, 'Well, you're a cool chap, hows'ever.' 'I know I am,' was my response, as he filled and began to smoke. I thought you parsons didn't smoke.' 'You thought wrong, then. Why shouldn't we? Oh, I don't know why ye shouldn't, 'cept because ye set up to be so godly like.' Do ? I didn't know it. Well, but I don't in particular. I don't fancy myself better than my neighbours.' 'Well, but, parson, you pitch

we

into me for getting drunk; have you never been so yourself? honour bright, mind.' 'Honour bright, as you say, then; since I have been a parson, never; before then, sometimes, as a young man.' 'Well, I like you for speaking out plain. I like a man to speak straight out and never mumps a question.' What 'mumpsing' may be, I don't know; shirking, perhaps. Well, but why don't you ever get drunk now." Shall I tell you in plain words?' Aye, to be sure.' 'Because I am not such a fool; only fools do so. 'H'm, suppose you mean I'm one.' 'Well, yes, if you will have it.' Upon which he swore I was an uncommon cool hand, and I informed him that he musn't swear again. Well, at last, when my pipe was out, I shook hands with him, emptied my pouch into his box, and spoke a few kindly words of grave caution to him, which he actually told me he would think about, and asked me to look in again, and 'he'd stand the baccy.' So you see, Ned, I have gained a new friend. I'll have him to Church soon, please God.-Now, my son, what are you looking so gloomy about ?"

"I'm thinking I must soon leave you, and get to work. I've been idle, and on your hands, long enough."

66

So say I." A few months back, and such an apparently inhospitable speech as this would have set Huntley's face in a blaze of quick wrath. Not only was he more patient now, but also he had learnt not to judge from outward appearances or words only. So he sighed half sadly, and continued, "The question is, what shall I do ?"

"I think, rather, "what can you do?" I don't doubt your will; your ability is what I have to discover."

Ah, that will not take you long; sum me up in one word-a failure. Position-a failure ; education-a failure ; fortune-a failure; hopes-a failure; life-a failure."

Anything else you can think of, Ned? Add, 'death a failure,' in a prophetic spirit, and you will have gone half way to make it so. My boy, you shan't be a failure, I tell you. Don't talk nonsense. If a man learns a lesson by what the world calls a 'failure,' that failure is really a success, which has led him onwards by a cross road. All your failures have advanced you. By loss of position you have learnt that practically all positions are the same: by loss of routine-education you have learnt the necessity of real healthy mental culture: by loss of hopes you have learnt how absurd those hopes were, and how useless it is to hope at all.

"Yes, I grant much of this. But still, the time, I wasted so at College"

"The wasting was an act of folly for which you now suffer. Less your fault, perhaps, than you are inclined to think. No one ever told you that you went there to learn discipline, and to exercise your mind as a recruit preparatory to entering on the great battle-field of life as a soldier. You thought you only went to a fashionable three years' lounge to get through so much time, so much money, and so much health, with the least possible mental exertion or gain. And you