THE TWINS;

A DOMESTIC NOVEL. 

BY

MARTIN FARQUHAR TUPPER, A. M. , F. R. S. 

AUTHOR OF

PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. 

HARTFORD:

PUBLISHED BY SILAS ANDRUS & SON

1851. 

THE TWINS. 

CHAPTER I. 

PLACE: TIME: CIRCUMSTANCE. 

BURLEIGH-SINGLETON is a pleasant little watering-place on the southerncoast of England, entirely suitable for those who have small incomes andgood consciences. The latter, to residents especially, are at least asindispensable as the former: seeing that, however just the reputation oftheir growing little town for superior cheapness in matters of meat anddrink, its character in things regarding men and manners is quite asundeniable for preëminent dullness. 

Not but that it has its varieties of scene, and more or less ofcircumstances too: there are, on one flank, the breezy Heights, withflag-staff and panorama; on the other, broad and level water-meadows, skirted by the dark-flowing Mullet, running to the sea between itstortuous banks: for neighbourhood, Pacton Park is one greatattraction--the pretty market-town of Eyemouth another--the everlasting, never-tiring sea a third; and, at high-summer, when the Devonshire lanesare not knee-deep in mire, the nevertheless immeasurably filthy, thoughpicturesque, mud-built village of Oxton. 

Then again (and really as I enumerate these multitudinous advantages, Ibegin to relent for having called it dull), you may pick up curiousagate pebbles on the beach, as well as corallines and scarce sea-weeds, good for gumming on front-parlour windows; you may fish _for_ whitingsin the bay, and occasionally catch them; you may wade in huge caoutchoucboots among the muddy shallows of the Mullet, and shoot _at_ cormorantsand curlews; you may walk to satiety between high-banked and ratherdirty cross-roads; and, if you will scramble up the hedge-row, may getnow and then peeps of undulated country landscape. 

Moreover, you have free liberty to drop in any where to"tiffin"--Burleigh being very Indianized, and a guest always welcome;indeed, so Indianized is it, so populous in jaundiced cheek and ailinglivers, that you may openly assert, without fear of being misunderstood(if you wish to vary your common phrase of loyalty), that Victoria sitsupon the "musnud" of Great Britain; you may order curry in the smallestpot-house, and still be sure to get the rice well-cooked; you may callyour house-maid "ayah, " without risk of warning for impertinence; youmay vent your wrath against indolent waiters in eloquence of "jaa, soostee;" and, finally, you may go to the library, and besides theadvantage of the day-before-yesterday's Times, you may behold in biliouspresence an affable, but authoritative, old gentleman, who introduceshimself, "Sir, you see in me the hero of Puttymuddyfudgepoor. "

You may even now see such an one, I say, and hear him too, if you willbut go to Burleigh; seeing he has by this time over-lived the year or sowhereof our tale discourses. He has, by dint of service, attained to thedignity of General H. E. I. C. S. , and--which he was still longer comingto--the wisdom of being a communicative creature; though possibly, by anatural rëaction, at present he carries anti-secresy a little too far, and verges on the gossiping extreme. But, at the time to which we mustlook back to commence this right-instructive story, General Tracy wasstill drinking "Hodgson's Pale" in India, was so taciturn as to beconsidered almost dumb, and had not yet lifted up his yellow visage uponAlbion's white cliffs, nor taken up head-quarters in his final rest ofBurleigh-Singleton. 

Nevertheless, with reference to quartering at Burleigh, a certainlong-neglected wife of his, Mrs. Tracy, had; and that for the period ofat least the twenty-one years preceding: how and wherefore I proceed totell. 

A common case and common fate was that of Mrs. Tracy. She had married, both early and hastily, a gallant lieutenant, John George Julian Tracy, to wit, the military germ of our future general; their courtship andacquaintance previous to matrimony extended over the not inconsiderablespace of three whole weeks--commencing with a country ball; and aftermarriage, honey-moon inclusive, they lived the life of cooing doves forthree whole months. 

And now came the furlough's end: Mr. Tracy, in his then habitual reserve(a quiet man was he), had concealed its existence altogether: and, foraught Jane knew, the hearty invalid was to remain at home for ever: butmonths soon slip away; and so it came to pass, that on a certain nextWednesday he must be on his way back to the Presidency of Madras, and--if she will not follow him--he must leave her. 

However, there was a certain old relative, one Mrs. Green, a childlesswidow--rich, capricious, and infirm--whom Jane Tracy did not wish tolose sight of: her money was well worth both watching and waiting for;and the captain, whom a lucky chance had now lifted out of thelieutenancy, was easily persuaded to forego the pleasure of his wife'scompany till the somewhat indefinite period of her old aunt's death. 

How far sundry discoveries made in the unknown regions of each other'stemper reconciled him to this retrograding bachelorship, and her to herwidowhood-bewitched, I will not undertake to say: but I will hazard theremark, anti-poor-law though it seemeth, that the separation of man andwife, however convenient, lucrative, or even mutually pleasant, is adereliction of duty, which always deserves, and generally meets, itsproper and discriminative punishment. Had the young wife faithfullyperformed her Maker's bidding, and left all other ties unstrung tocleave unto her lord; had she considered a husband's true affectionsbefore all other wealth, and resolved to share his dangers, to solacehis cares, to be his blessing through life, and his partner even untodeath, rather than selfishly to seek her own comfort, and consult herown interest--the tale of crime and sadness, which it is my lot to tell, would never have had truth for its foundation. 

Ill-matched for happiness though they were, however well-matched as tomutual merit, the common man of pleasure and the frivolous woman offashion, still the wisest way to fuse their minds to union, thelikeliest receipt for moral good and social comfort, would have beenthis course of foreign scenes, of new faces, sprinkled with a seasoningof adventure, hardship, danger, in a distant land. Gradually would theyhave learned to bear and forbear; the petty quarrel would have beenforgotten in the frequent kindness; the rougher edges of temper andopinion would insensibly have smoothed away; new circumstances wouldhave brought out better feelings under happier skies; old acquaintances, false friends forgotten, would have neutralized old feuds: and, bylong-living together, though it were perhaps amid various worries andmany cares, they might still have come to a good old age with more thanaverage happiness, and more than the common run of love. Patience indutiful enduring brings a sure reward: and marriage, however irksome aconstraint to the foolish and the gay, is still so wise an ordinance, that the most ill-assorted couple imaginable will unconsciously growhappy, if they only remain true to one another, and will learn thewisdom always to hope and often to forgive. 

The Tracys, however, overlooked all this, and mutual friends (thoseinvariable foes to all that is generous and unworldly) smiled upon theprudence of their temporary separation. The captain was to come homeagain on furlough in five years at furthest, even if the aunt held outso long; and this availed to keep his wife in the rear-guard; therefore, Mrs. Tracy wiped her eyes, bade adieu to her retreating lord in PlymouthSound, and determined to abide, with other expectant dames and Asiaticinvalided heroes, at Burleigh-Singleton, until she might go to him, orhe return to her: for pleasant little Burleigh, besides its contiguityto arriving Indiamen, was advantageous as being the dwelling-place ofaforesaid Mrs. Green;--that wealthy, widowed aunt, devoutly wished inheaven: and the considerate old soul had offered her designing niece ahome with her till Tracy could come back. 

During the first year of absence, ship-letters and India-letters arrivedduteously in consecutive succession: but somehow or other, the regularpost, in no long time afterwards, became unfaithful to its trust; and ifMrs. Jane heard quarterly, which at any rate she did through the agent, when he remitted her allowance, she consoled herself as to the captain'swell-being: in due course of things, even this became irregular; he wasfar up the country, hunting, fighting, surveying, and what not; and nowonder that letters, if written at all, which I rather doubt, got lost. Then there came a long period of positive and protracted silence--monthsof it--years of it; barring that her checks for cash were honoured stillat Hancock's, though they could tell her nothing of her lord; so thatMrs. Tracy was at length seriously recommended by her friends to becomea widow; she tried on the cap, and looked into many mirrors; but, afterlong inspection, decided upon still remaining a wife, because the weedswere so clearly unbecoming. Habit, meanwhile, and that still-existingold aunt, who seemed resolved to live to a hundred, kept her as beforeat Burleigh: and, seeing that a few months after the captain's departureshe had presented the world, not to say her truant lord, with twins, shehad always found something to do in the way of, what she considered, education, and other juvenile amusement: that is to say, when thegayeties of a circle of fifteen miles in radius left her any time tospare in such a process. The twins--a brace of boys--were born and bredat Burleigh, and had attained severally to twenty years of age, justbefore their father came home again as brevet-major-general. But boththey, and that arrival, deserve special detail, each in its own chapter. 

CHAPTER II. 

THE HEROES. 

MRS. TRACY'S sons were as unlike each other as it is well possible fortwo human beings to be, both in person and character. Julian, whoseforward and bold spirit gained him from the very cradle everyprerogative of eldership (and he did struggle first into life, too, sohe was the first-born), had grown to be a swarthy, strong, big-bonedman, of the Roman-nosed, or, more physiognomically, the Jewish cast ofcountenance; with melo-dramatic elf-locks, large whiskers, andungovernable passions; loud, fierce, impetuous; cunning, too, for allhis overbearing clamour; and an embodied personification of those choiceessentials to criminal happiness--a hard heart and a good digestion. Charles, on the contrary (or, as logicians would say, on thecontradictory), was fair-haired, blue-eyed, of Grecian features; slim, though well enough for inches, and had hitherto (as the commonalty haveit) "enjoyed" weak health: he was gentle and affectionate in heart, pureand religious in mind, studious and unobtrusive in habits. It was awonder to see the strange diversity between those own twin-brothers, born within the same hour, and, it is superfluous to add, of the sameparents; brought up in all outward things alike, and who had sharedequally in all that might be called advantage or disadvantage, ofcircumstance or education. 

Certain is it that minds are different at birth, and require asdifferent a treatment as Iceland moss from cactuses, or bull-dogs frombull-finches: certain is it, too, that Julian, early submitted andresolutely broken in, would have made as great a man, as Charles, naturally meek, did make a good one; but for the matter of educating herboys, poor Mrs. Tracy had no more notion of the feat, than of squaringthe circle, or determining the longitude. She kept them both at home, till the peevish aunt could suffer Julian's noise no longer: the housewas a Pandemonium, and the giant grown too big for that castle ofOtranto; so he must go at any rate; and (as no difference in thetreatment of different characters ever occurred to any body) of courseCharles must go along with him. Away they went to an expensive school, which Julian's insubordination on the instant could not brook--and, accordingly, he ran away; without doubt, Charles must be taken away too. Another school was tried, Julian got expelled this time; and Charles, in spite of prizes, must, on system, be removed with him: so forth, withlike wisdom, all through the years of adolescence and instruction, thoseill-matched brothers were driven as a pair. Then again, for fashion'ssake, and Aunt Green's whims, the circumspective mother, notwithstandingall her inconsistencies, gave each of them prettily bound hand-books ofdevotion; which the one used upon his knees, and the other lit cigarswithal; both extremes having exceeded her intention: and she provedsimilarly overreached when she persisted in treating both exactly alike, as to liberal allowances, and liberty of will; the result being, thatone of her sons "foolishly" spent his money in a multitude of charitablehobbies; and that the other was constantly supplied with means for (themother was sorry to say it, vulgar) dissipation. By consequence, Charlesdid more good, and Julian more evil, than I have time to stop and telloff. 

If any thing in this life must be personal, peculiar, and specific, itis education: we take upon ourselves to speak thus dogmatically, not ofmere school-teaching only, _musa_, _musæ_, and so forth; nor yet oflectures, on relative qualities of carbon and nitrogen in vegetables;no, nor even of schemes of theology, or codes of morals; but we do speakof the daily and hourly reining-in, or letting-out, of discouragement inone appetite, and encouragement in another; of habitual formation ofcharacters in their diversity; and of shaping their bear's-cub, or thatchild-angel, the natural human mind, to its destined ends; that it mayturn out, for good, according to its several natures, to be either thestrong-armed, bold-eyed, rough-hewer of God's grand designs, or thedelicate-fingered polisher of His rarest sculptures. Julian, well-trained, might have grown to be a Luther; and many a gentle soullike Charles, has turned out a coxcomb and a sensualist. 

The boys were born, as I have said, in the regulation order of things, afew months after Captain Tracy sailed away for India some full score ofyears, and more, from this present hour, when we have seen him seated asa general in the library at Burleigh; and, until the last year, they hadnever seen their father--scarcely ever heard of him. 

The incidents of their lives had been few and common-place: it would beeasy, but wearisome, to specify the orchards and the bee-hives whichJulian had robbed as a school-boy; the rebellions he had headed; themonkey tricks he had played upon old fish-women; and the cruel havoc hemade of cats, rats, and other poor tormented creatures, who hadministered to his wanton and brutalizing joys. In like manner, wearily, but easily, might I relate how Charles grew up the nurse's darling, though little of his flaunting mother's; the curly-pated youngbook-worm; the sympathizing, innoffensive, gentle heart, whose effortstill it was to countervail his brother's evil: how often, at the riskof blows, had he interposed to save some drowning puppy: how often paidthe bribe for Julian's impunity, when mulcted for some damage done inthe way of broken windows, upset apple-stalls, and the like: how oftenhad he screened his bad twin-brother from the flagellatory consequencesof sheer idleness, by doing for him all his school-tasks: how oftenstriven to guide his insensate conscience to truth, and good, andwisdom: how often, and how vainly!

And when the youths grew up, and their good and evil grew up with them, it were possible to tell you a heart-rending tale of Julian's treacheryto more than one poor village beauty; and many a pleasing trait ofCharles's pure benevolence, and wise zeal to remedy his brother'smischiefs. The one went about doing ill, and the other doing good:Julian, on account of obligations, more truly than in spite of them, hated Charles; and yet one great aim of all Charles's amiabilitiestended continually to Julian's good, and he strove to please him, too, while he wished to bless him. The one had grown to manhood, full ofunrepented sins, and ripe for darker crime: the other had attained alike age of what is somewhat satirically called discretion, havingamassed, with Solon of old, "knowledge day by day, " having lived a lifeof piety and purity, and blest with a cheerful disposition, that teemedwith happy thoughts. 

They had, of course, in the progress of human life, been both laid uponthe bed of sickness, where, with similar contrast, the one lay mutteringdiscontent, and the other smiling patiently: they had both been indangers by land and by sea, where Julian, though not a little lacking tohimself at the moment of peril, was still loudly minacious till it cametoo near; while Charles, with all his caution, was more actuallycourageous, and in spite of all his gentleness, stood against the worstundaunted: they had both, with opposite motives and dissimilar modes oflife, passed through various vicissitudes of feeling, scene, society;and the influence of circumstance on their different characters, heightened or diminished, bettered or depraved, by the good or evilprinciple in each, had produced their different and probable results. 

Thus, strangely dissimilar, the twin-brothers together stand before us:Julian the strong impersonation of the animal man, as Charles of theintellectual; Julian, matter; Charles, spirit; Julian, the creature ofthis world, tending to a lower and a worse: Charles, though in theworld, not of the world, and reaching to a higher and a better. 

Mrs. Tracy, the mother of this various progeny, had been somewhat of abeauty in her day, albeit much too large and masculine for the taste ofordinary mortals; and though now very considerably past forty, the vainvast female was still ambitious of compliment, and greedy of admiration. That Julian should be such a woman's favourite will surprise none: shehad, she could have, no sympathies with mild and thoughtful Charles; butrather dreaded to set her flaunting folly in the light of his wiseglance, and sought to hide her humbled vanity from his pure and keenperceptions. His very presence was a tacit rebuke to her socialdissipation, and she could not endure the mild radiance of his virtues. He never fawned and flattered her, as Julian would; but had evensuffered filial presumption (it could not be affection--O dear, no!) togo so far as gently to expostulate at what he fancied wrong; he nevergave her reason to contrast, with happy self-complacence, her own soul'sstate with Charles's, however she could with Julian's: and then, too, she would indulgently allow her foolish mind--a woman's, though aparent's--to admire that tall, black, bandit-looking son, above theslight build, the delicate features, and almost feminine elegance of hisbrother: she found Julian always ready to countenance and pamper hergayest wishes, and was glad to make him her escort every where--atballs, and fêtes, and races, and archery parties; while as to Charles, he would be the stay-at-home, the milk-sop, the learned pundit, thepious prayer-monger, any thing but the ladies' man. Yes: it is littlewonder that Mrs. Tracy's heart clave to Julian, the masculine image ofherself; while it barely tolerated Charles, who was a rarefied andidealized likeness of the absent and forgotten Tracy. 

But the mother--and there are many silly mothers, almost as many assilly men and silly maids--in her admiration of the outward form ofmanliness, overlooked the true strength, and chivalry, and nobleness ofmind which shone supreme in Charles. How would Julian have acted in sucha case as this?--a sheep had wandered down the cliff's face to a narrowledge of rock, whence it could not come back again, for there was noroom to turn: Julian would have pelted it, and set his bull-dog at it, and rejoiced to have seen the poor animal's frantic leaps from shinglyshelf to shelf, till it would be dashed to pieces. But how did Charlesact? With the utmost courage, and caution, and presence of mind, hecrept down, and, at the risk of his life, dragged the bleating, unreluctant creature up again; it really seemed as if the ungratefulpoor dumb brute recognised its humane friend, and suffered him to rescueit without a struggle or a motion that might have endangered both. 

Again: a burly costermonger was belabouring his donkey, and the wretchedbeast fell beneath his cudgel: strange to say, Julian and Charles werewalking together that time; and the same sight affected each sodifferently, that the one sided with the cruel man, and the other withhis suffering victim: Charles, in momentary indignation, rushed up tothe fellow, wrested the cudgel from his hand, and flung it over thecliff; while Julian was so base, so cowardly, as to reward such generousinterference, by holding his weaker brother's arms, and inviting thewrathful costermonger to expend the remainder of his phrensy on unluckyCharles. Yes, and when at home Mrs. Tracy heard all this, she was sillyenough, wicked enough, to receive her truly noble son with ridicule, andher other one, the child of her disgrace, with approval. 

"It will teach you, Master Charles, not to meddle with common people andtheir donkeys; and you may thank your brother Julian for giving you alesson how a gentleman should behave. "

Poor Charles! but poorer Julian, and poorest Mrs. Tracy!

It would be easy, if need were, to enumerate multiplied examples tendingtowards the same end--a large, masculine-featured mother's foolishpreference of the loud, bold, worldly animal, before the meek, kind, noble, spiritual. And the results of all these many matters were, thatnow, at twenty years of age, Charles found himself, as it were, alone ina strange land, with many common friends indeed abroad, but at home nonearer, dearer ties to string his heart's dank lyre withal; neithermother nor brother, nor any other kind familiar face, to look upon hisgentleness in love, or to sympathize with his affections, unapprehended, unappreciated: so--while Mrs. Tracy was the showy, gay, and vapid thingshe ever had been, and Julian the same impetuous mother's son which hisvery nurse could say she knew him--Charles grew up a shy and silentyouth, necessarily reserved, for lack of some one to understand him;necessarily chilled, for want of somebody to love him. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE ARRIVAL. 

THE young men were thus situated as regards both the world and oneanother, and Mrs. Tracy had almost entirely forgotten the fact, that shepossessed a piece of goods so supererogatory as her husband (a propertytoo which her children had never quite realized), when all on a sudden, one ordinary morning, the postman's-knock brought to her breakfast-tableat Burleigh-Singleton the following epistle:

 "British Channel, Thursday, March 11th, 1842. "The Sir William Elphinston, E. I. M. 

"DEAR JANE: You will be surprised to find that you are to see me sosoon, I dare say, especially as it is now some years since you will haveheard from me. The reason is, I have been long in an out-of-the-way partof India, where there is little communication with Europe, and so youwill excuse my not writing. We hope to find ourselves to-night inPlymouth roads, where I shall get into a pilot-boat, and so shall seeyou to-morrow. You may, therefore, now expect your affectionate husband, "J. G. J. TRACY, General H. E. I. C. S. 

"P. S. 1. --Remember me to our boy, or boys--which is it?

"P. S. 2. --I bring with me the daughter of a friend in India, who is comeover for a year or two's polish at a first-rate school. Of course youwill be glad to receive her as our guest. 

 "J. G. J. T. "

This loving letter was the most startling event that had ever attemptedto unnerve Mrs. Tracy; and she accordingly managed, for effect andpropriety's sake, to grow very faint upon the spot, whether for joy, orsorrow, or fear of lost liberty, or hope of a restored lord, doth notappear; she had so long been satisfied with receiving quarterly pay fromthe India agents, that she forgot it was an evidence of her husband'sexistence; and, lo! here he was returning a general, doubtlessly amagnificent moustachioed individual, and she was to be Mrs. General! sothat when she came completely to herself, after that feint of a faint, she was thinking of nothing but court-plumes, oriental pearls, and hergallant Tracy's uniform. 

The postscripts also had their influence: Charles, naturallyaffectionate, and willing to love a hitherto unseen father, felt hurt, as well he might, at the "boy, or boys;" while Julian, who ridiculed hisbrother's sentimentality, was already fancying that the "daughter of afriend" might be a pleasant addition to the dullness ofBurleigh-Singleton. 

Preparations vast were made at once for the general's reception; fromattic to kitchen was sounded the tocsin of his coming. Julian was allbustle and excitement, to his mother's joy and pride; while Charlesmerited her wrath by too much of his habitual and paternal quietude, particularly when he withdrew his forces altogether from the louddomestic fray, by retreating up-stairs to cogitate and muse, perhaps tomake a calming prayer or two about all these matters of importance. Asfor Mrs. Tracy herself, she was even now, within the first hour of thatnews, busily engaged in collecting cosmetics, trinkets, blonde lace, andother female finery, resolved to trick herself out like Jezebel, and winher lord once more; whilst the pernicious old aunt, who still lived on, notwithstanding all those twenty years of patience, as vivacious asbefore, grumbled and scolded so much at this upsetting of her house, that there was really some risk of her altering the will at last, andcutting out Jane Tracy after all. 

And the morrow morning came, as if it were no more than an ordinaryFriday, and with it came expectancy; and noon succeeded, and with itspirits alternately elated and depressed; and evening drew in, withheart-sickness and chagrin at hopes or prophecies deferred; and night, and next morning, and still the general came not. So, much weeping atthat vexing disappointment, after so many pains to please, Mrs. Tracyput aside her numerous aids and appliances, and lay slatternly a-bed, tonurse a head-ache until noon; and all had well nigh forgotten theprobable arrival, when, to every body's dismay, a dusty chaise and foursuddenly rattled up the terrace, and stopped at our identical numberseven. 

Then was there scuffling up, and getting down, and making preparation inhot haste; and a stout gentleman with a gamboge face descended from thechaise, exploding wrath like a bomb-shell, that so important an approachhad made such slight appearance of expectancy: it was disrespectful tohis rank, and he took care to prove he was somebody, by blowing up thevery innocent post-boys. This accomplished, he gallantly handed outafter him a pretty-looking miss in her teens. Poor Mrs. Tracy, _enpapillotes_, looked out at the casement like any one but Jezebel attiredfor bewitching, and could have cried for vexation; in fact, she did, and passed it off for feeling. Aunt Green, whom the general at firstlovingly saluted as his wife (for the poor man had entirely forgottenthe uxorial appearance), was all in a pucker for deafness, blindness, and evident misapprehension of all things in general, though clearlypleased, and flattered at her gallant nephew's salutation. Julian, withwhat grace of manner he could muster, was already playing the agreeableto that pretty ward, after having, to the general's great surprise, introduced himself to him as his son; while Charles, who had rushed intothe room, warm-heartedly to fling himself into his father's arms, wasrepelled on the spot for his affection: General Tracy, with a militaryair, excused himself from the embrace, extending a finger to the unknowngentleman, with somewhat of offended dignity. 

At last, down came the wife: our general at once perceived himselfmistaken in the matter of Mrs. Green; and, coldly bowing to thebedizened dame, acknowledged her pretensions with a courteous--

"Mrs. General Tracy, allow me to introduce to you Miss Emily Warren, thedaughter of a very particular friend of mine:--Miss Warren, Mrs. Tracy. "

For other welcomings, mutual astonishment at each other's fat, somelittle sorrowful talk of the twenty years ago, and some dull paternaljest about this dozen feet of sons, made up the chilly meeting: and theslender thread of sentimentals, which might possibly survive it, wassoon snapt by paying post-boys, orders after luggage, and devouringtiffin. 

The only persons who felt any thing at all, were Mrs. Tracy, vexed ather dishabille, and mortified at so cool a reception of, what she hoped, her still unsullied beauties; and Charles, poor fellow, who ran up tohis studious retreat, and soothed his grief, as best he might, withphilosophic fancies: it was so cold, so heartless, so unkind a greeting. Romantic youth! how should the father have known him for a son?

CHAPTER IV. 

THE GENERAL AND HIS WARD. 

IT is surprising what a change twenty years of a tropical sun can makein the human constitution. The captain went forth a good-looking, good-tempered man, destitute neither of kind feelings nor masculinebeauty: the general returned bloated, bilious, irascible, entirelyselfish, and decidedly ill-favoured. Such affections as he ever hadseemed to have been left behind in India--that new world, around whichnow all his associations and remembrances revolved; and the reserve(clearly rëproduced in Charles), the habit of silence whereof we tookdue notice in the spring-tide of his life, had now grown, perhaps fromsome oppressive secret, into a settled, moody, continuous taciturnity, which made his curious wife more vexed at him than ever; for, notwithstanding all the news he must have had to tell her, the companyof John George Julian Tracy proved to his long-expectant Jane any thingbut cheering or instructive. His past life, and present feelings, to saynothing of his future prospects, might all be but a blank, for any thingthe general seemed to care: brandy and tobacco, an easy chair, and anordnance map of India, with Emily beside him to talk about old times, these were all for which he lived: and even the female curiosity of awife, duly authorized to ask questions, could extract from himastonishingly little of his Indian experiences. As to his wealth, indeed, Mrs. Tracy boldly made direct inquiry; for Julian set her on tobeg for a commission, and Charles also was anxious for a year or two atcollege; but the general divulged not much: albeit he vouchsafed to bothhis sons a liberally increased allowance. It was only when his wife, piqued at such reserve, pettishly remarked, "At any rate, sir, I may be permitted to hope, that Miss Warren'sfriends are kind enough to pay her expenses;"

That the veteran, in high dudgeon at any imputation on his Indianacquaintances, sternly answered, "You need not be apprehensive, madam; Emily Warren is amply providedfor. " Words which sank deep into the prudent mother's mind. 

But we must not too long let dock-leaves hide a violet; it is high time, and barely courteous now, to introduce that beautiful exotic, EmilyWarren. Her own history, as she will tell it to Charles hereafter, wasso obscure, that she knew little of it certainly herself, and couldbarely gather probabilities from scattered fragments. At present, wehave only to survey results in a superficial manner: in their dueseason, we will dig up all the roots. 

No heroine can probably engage our interest or sympathy who possessesthe infirmity of ugliness: it is not in human nature to admire her, andhuman nature is a thing very much to be consulted. Moreover, no one everyet saw an amiable personage, who was not so far pleasing, or, in otherparlance, so far pretty. I cannot help the common course of things; andhowever hackneyed be the thought, however common-place the phrase, it istrue, nevertheless, that beauty, singular beauty, would be the firstidea of any rational creature, who caught but a glimpse of Emily Warren;and I should account it little wonder if, upon a calmer gaze, thatbeauty were found to have its deepest, clearest fountain in those largedark eyes of heir's. 

Aware as I may be, that "large dark eyes" are no novelty in tales likethis; and famous for rare originality as my pen (not to say genius)would become, if an attempt were herein made to interest the world in apink-eyed heroine, still I prefer plodding on in the well-worn path ofpleasant beauty; and so long as Nature's bounty continues to supply sowell the world we live in with large dark eyes, and other feminineperfections, our Emily, at any rate, remains in fashion; and if she hasmany pretty peers, let us at least not peevishly complain of them. Agraceful shape is, luckily, almost the common prerogative of femaleyouthfulness; a dimpled smile, a cheerful, winning manner, regularfeatures, and a mass of luxuriant brown hair--these all heroineshave--and so has our's. 

But no heroine ever had yet Emily Warren's eyes; not identically only, which few can well deny; but similarly also, which the many must be goodenough to grant: and very few heroes, indeed, ever saw their equal;though, if any hereabouts object, I will not be so cruel or unreasonableas to hope they will admit it. At first, full of soft light, gentle andalluring, they brighten up to blaze upon you lustrously, and fascinatethe gazer's dazzled glance: there are depths in them that tell of theunfathomable soul, heights in them that speak of the spirit'saspirations. It is gentleness and purity, no less than sensibility andpassion, that look forth in such strange power from those windows of themind: it is not the mere beautiful machine, fair form, and pleasingcolours, but the heaven-born light of tenderness and truth, streamingthrough the lens, that takes the fond heart captive. Charles, for one, could not help looking long and keenly into Emily Warren's eyes; theymagnetized him, so that he might not turn away from them: entranced him, that he would not break their charm, had he been able: and then the longtufted eyelashes droop so softly over those blazing suns--that I do notin the least wonder at Charles's impolite, perhaps, but still naturalinvoluntary stare, and his mute abstracted admiration: the poor youth iscaught at once, a most willing captive--the moth has burnt its wings, and flutters still happily around that pleasant warming radiance. Howhis heart yearned for something to love, some being worthy of his ownmost pure affections: and lo! these beauteous eyes, true witnesses ofthis sweet mind, have filled him for ever and a day with love at firstsight. 

But gentle Charles was not the only conquest: the fiery Julian, too, acknowledged her supremacy, bowed his stubborn neck, and yoked himselfat once, another and more rugged captive, to the chariot of her charms. It was Caliban, as well as Ferdinand, courting fair Miranda. In hislower grade, he loved--fiercely, coarsely: and the same passion, whichfilled his brother's heart with happiest aspirations, and pure unselfishtenderness towards the beauteous stranger, burnt him up as an inward andconsuming fire: Charles sunned himself in heaven's genial beams, whileJulian was hot with the lava-current of his own bad heart's volcano. 

It will save much trouble, and do away with no little useless mystery, to declare, at the outset, which of these opposite twin-brothers ourdark-eyed Emily preferred. She was only seventeen in years; but anIndian sky had ripened her to full maturity, both of form and feelings:and having never had any one whom she cared to think upon, and let herheart delight in, till Charles looked first upon her beauty wonderingly, it is no marvel if she unconsciously reciprocated his young heart'sthought--before ever he had breathed it to himself. Julian's admirationshe entirely overlooked; she never thought him more than civil--barelythat, perhaps--however he might flatter himself: but her heart and eyeswere full of his fair contrast, the light seen brighter againstdarkness; Charles all the dearer for a Julian. Intensely did she lovehim, as only tropic blood can love; intently did she gaze on him, whenany while he could not see her face, as only those dark eyes could gaze:and her mind, all too ignorant but greedy of instruction, no less thanher heart, rich in sympathies and covetous of love, went forth, and feddeliciously on the intellectual brow, and delicate flushing cheek of hernoble-minded Charles. Not all in a day, nor a week, nor a month, didtheir loves thus ripen together. Emily was a simple child of nature, whohad every thing to learn; she scarcely knew her Maker's name, tillCharles instructed her in God's great love: the stars were to her onlyshining studs of gold, and the world one mighty plain, and men and womensoulless creatures of a day, and the wisdom of creation unconsidered, and the book of natural knowledge close sealed up, till Charles set outbefore his eager student the mysteries of earth and heaven. Oh, thoseblessed hours of sweet teaching! when he led her quick delighted stepsup the many avenues of science to the central throne of God! Oh, thosehappy moments, never to return, when her eyes in gentle thankfulness forsome new truth laid open to them, flashed upon her youthful Mentor, loveand intelligence, and pleased admiring wonder! Sweet spring-tide oftheir loves, who scarcely knew they loved, yet thought of nothing buteach other; who walked hand in hand, as brother and sister, in theflowery ways of mutual blessing, mutual dependence: alas, alas! howbrief a space can love, that guest from heaven, dwell on earthunsullied!

CHAPTER V. 

JEALOUSY. 

FOR Julian soon perceived that Charles was no despicable rival. Atfirst, self-flattery, and the habitual contempt wherewith he regarded hisbrother, blinded him to Emily's attachment: moreover, in the scenes ofgayety and the common social circle, she never gave him cause to complainof undue preferences; readily she leant upon his arm, cheerfullyaccompanied him in morning-visits, noon-day walks, and evening parties;and if pale Charles (in addition to the more regular masters, dancingand music, and other pieces of accomplishment) thought proper to boreher with his books for sundry hours every day, Julian found no faultwith that;--the girl was getting more a woman of the world, and allfor him: she would like her play-time all the better for such schoolings, and him to be the truant at her side. 

But when, from ordinary civilities, the coarse loud lover proceeded toparticular attentions; when he affected to press her delicate hand, andventured to look what he called love into her eyes, and to breathe sillynothings in her ear--he could deceive himself no longer, notwithstandingall his vanity; as legibly as looks could write it, he read disgustupon her face, and from that day forth she shunned him with undisguisedabhorrence. Poor innocent maid! she little knew the man's black mind, who thus dared to reach up to the height of her affections; but she sawenough of character in his swart scowling face, and loud assuming manners, to make her dread his very presence, as a thunder-cloud acrossher summer sky. 

Then did the baffled Julian begin to look around him, and took noticeof her deepening love of Charles; nay, even purposely, she seemed nowto make a difference between them, as if to check presumption andencourage merit. And he watched their stolen glances, how tremblinglythey met each other's gaze; and he would often-times roughly break inupon their studies, to look on their confused disquietude with the pallidfrowns of envy: he would insult poor Charles before her, in hope tohumble him in her esteem; but mild and Christian patience made hersee him as a martyr: he would even cast rude slights on her whom heprofessed to love, with the view of raising his brother's chastened wrath, but was forced to quail and sneak away beneath her quick indignantglance, ere her more philosophical lover had time to expostulate withthe cowardly savage. 

Meanwhile, what were the parents about? The general had given out, indeed, that he had brought Emily over for schooling; but he seemed sofond of her (in fact, she was the only thing to prove he wore a heart), that he never could resolve upon sending her away from, what she nowmight well call, home. Often, in some strange dialect of Hindostan, didthey converse together, of old times and distant shores; none but Emilymight read him to sleep--none but Emily wake him in the morning witha kiss--none but Emily dare approach him in his gouty torments--nonebut Emily had any thing like intimate acquaintance with that moodyiron-hearted man. 

As to his sons, or the two young men he might presume to be his sons, heneither knew them, nor cared to know. Bare civilities, as between manand man, constituted all which their intercourse amounted to: what werethose young fellows, stout or slim, to him? mere accidents of asoldier's gallantries and of an ill-assorted marriage. He neither had, nor wished to have, any sympathies with them: Julian might be as bad ashe pleased, and Charles as good, for any thing the general seemed toheed: they could not dive with him into the past, and the sports ofHindostan: they reminded him, simply, of his wife, for pleasures ofMemory; of the grave, for pleasures of Hope: he was older when he lookedat them: and they seemed to him only living witnesses of his folly aslieutenant, in the choice of Mrs. Tracy. I will not take upon myself tosay, that he had any occasion to congratulate himself on the latterreminiscence. 

So he quickly acquiesced in Julian's wish for a commission, andentirely approved of Charles's college schemes. After next September, the funds should be forthcoming: not but that he was rich enough, andto spare, any month in the year: but he would be vastly richer then, from prize-money, or some such luck. It was more prudent to delayuntil September. 

With reference to Emily--no, no--I could see at once that GeneralTracy never had any serious intention to part with Emily; but she hadall manner of masters at home, and soon made extraordinary progress. As for the matter of his sons falling in love with her, attractive in allbeauty though she were, he never once had given it a thought: for, first, he was too much a man of the world to believe in such ideal trash aslove: and next, he totally forgot that his "boy, or boys, " had humanfeelings. So, when his wife one day gave him a gentle and triumphanthint of the state of affairs, it came upon him overwhelmingly, like anavalanche: his yellow face turned flake-white, he trembled as he stood, and really seemed to take so natural a probability to heart as the mostserious of evils. 

"My son Julian in love with Emily! and if not he, at any rate Charles!What the devil, madam, can you mean by this dreadful piece ofintelligence?--It's impossible, ma'am; nonsense! it can't be true; itshan't, ma'am. "

And the general, having issued his military mandates, wrapped himselfin secresy once more; satisfied that both of those troublesome sonswere to leave home after the next quarter, and the prize-money atHancock's. 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE CONFIDANTE. 

BUT Mrs. Tracy had the best reason for believing her intelligence wastrue, and she could see very little cause for regarding it as dreadful. True, one son would have been enough for this wealthy Indianheiress--but still it was no harm to have two strings to her bow. Julianwas her favourite, and should have the girl if she could manage it; butif Emily Warren would not hear of such a husband, why Charles Tracy mayfar better get her money than any body else. 

That she possessed great wealth was evident: such jewellery, suchTrinchinopoli chains, such a blaze of diamonds _en suite_, such amultitude of armlets, and circlets, and ear-rings, and other orientalfinery, had never shone on Devonshire before: at the Eyemouth ball, menworshipped her, radiant in beauty, and gorgeously apparelled. Moreover, money overflowed her purse, her work-box, and her jewel-case: Charles'svillage school, and many other well-considered charities, rejoiced inthe streams of her munificence. The general had given her a banker'sbook of signed blank checks, and she filled up sums at pleasure: suchunbounded confidence had he in her own prudence and her far-off father'sliberality. The few hints her husband deigned to give, encouraged Mrs. Tracy to conclude, that she would be a catch for either of her sons;and, as for the girl herself, she had clearly been brought up to orderabout a multitude of servants, to command the use of splendid equipages, and to spend money with unsparing hand. 

Accordingly, one day when Julian was alone with his mother, theirconversation ran as follows:

"Well, Julian dear, and what do you think of Emily Warren?"

"Think, mother? why--that she's deuced pretty, and dresses like anempress: but where did the general pick her up, eh?--who is she?"

"Why, as to who she is--I know no more than you; she is Emily Warren:but as to the great question of what she is, I know that she is rollingin riches, and would make one of my boys a very good wife. "

"Oh, as to wife, mother, one isn't going to be fool enough to marry forlove now-a-days: things are easier managed hereabouts, than that: butmoney makes it quite another thing. So, this pretty minx is rich, isshe?"

"A great heiress, I assure you, Julian. "

"Bravo, bravo-o! but how to make the girl look sweet upon me, mother?There's that white-livered fellow, Charles--"

"Never mind him, boy; do you suppose he would have the heart to makelove to such a splendid creature as Miss Warren: fy, Julian, for a faintheart: Charles is well enough as a Sabbath-school teacher, but I hope hewill not bear away the palm of a ladye-love from my fine high-spiritedJulian. " Poor Mrs. Tracy was as flighty and romantic at forty-five asshe had been at fifteen. 

The fine high-spirited Julian answered not a word, but lookedexcessively cross; for he knew full well that Charles's chance was tohis in the ratio of a million to nothing. 

"What, boy, " went on the prudent mother, "still silent! I am afraidEmily's good looks have been thrown away upon you, and that your hearthas not found out how to love her. "

"Love her, mother? Curses! would you drive me mad? I think and dream ofnothing but that girl: morning, noon, and night, her eyes persecute me:go where I will, and do what I will, her image haunts me: d----n it, mother' don't I love the girl?"

[Oh love, love! thou much-slandered monosyllable, how desperately do badmen malign thee!]

"Hush, Julian; pray be more guarded in your language; I am glad to seethough that your heart is in the right place: suppose now that I aidyour suit a little? I dare say I could do a great deal for you, my son;and nothing could be more delightful to your mother than to try and makeher Julian happy. "

True, Mrs. Tracy; you were always theatrically given, and played thecoquette in youth; so in age the character of go-between befits youstill: dearly do you love to dabble in, what you are pleased to call, "_une affaire du coeur_. "

"Mother, " after a pause, replied her hopeful progeny, "if the girl hadbeen only pretty, I shouldn't have asked any body's help; for marriagewas never to my liking, and folks may have their will of prouderbeauties than this Emily, without going to church for it; but moneymakes it quite another matter: and I may as well have the benefit ofyour assistance in this matter o' money, eh mother? matrimony, you know:an heiress and a beauty may be worth the wedding-ring; besides, when mycommission comes, I can follow the good example that my parents set me, you know; and, after a three months' honey-mooning, can turn bacheloragain for twenty years or so, as our governor-general did, and so leavewifey at home, till she becomes a Mrs. General like you. "

Now, strange to say, this heartless bit of villany was any thing butunpleasing to the foolish, flattered heart of Mrs. Tracy; he was a chipof the old block, no better than his father: so she thanked "dearJulian" for his confidence, with admiration and emotion; and lookingupwards, after the fashion of a Covent Garden martyr, blessed him. 

CHAPTER VII. 

THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE, ETC. 

"EMILY, my dear, take Julian's arm: here, Charles, come and change withme; I should like a walk with you to Oxton, to see how your littlescholars get on. " So spake the intriguing mother. 

"Why, that is just what I was going to do with Charles, " said Emily, "and if Julian will excuse me--"

"Oh, never mind me, Miss Warren, pray; come along with me, will you, mother?"

So they paired off in more well-matched couples (for Julian luckily tookhuff), and went their different ways: with those went hatred, envy, worldly scheming, and that lowest sort of love that ill deserves thename; with these remain all things pure, affectionate, benevolent. 

"Charles, dear, " (they were just like brother and sister, innocent andloving), "how kind it is of you to take me with you; if you only knewhow I dreaded Julian!"

"Why, Emmy? can he have offended you in any way?"

"Oh, Charles, he is so rude, and says such silly things, and--I am quiteafraid to be alone with him. "

"What--what--what does he say to you, Emily?" hurriedly urged herhalf-avowed lover. 

"Oh, don't ask me, Charles--pray drop the subject;" and, as she blushed, tears stood in her eyes. 

Charles bit his lip and clenched his fist involuntarily; but an instantword of prayer drove away the spirit of hatred, and set up lovetriumphant in its place. 

"My Emily--oh, what have I said? may I--may I call you my Emily?dearest, dearest girl!" escaped his lips, and he trembled at his ownpresumption. It was a presumptuous speech indeed; but it burst from thewell of his affections, and he could not help it. 

Her answer was not in words, and yet his heart-strings thrilled beneaththe melody; for her eyes shed on him a blaze of love that made himalmost faint before them. In an instant, they understood, without aword, the happy truth, that each one loved the other. 

"Precious, precious Emily!" They were now far away from Burleigh, in thefields; and he seized her hand, and covered it with kisses. 

What more they said I was not by to hear, and if I had been would nothave divulged it. There are holy secrets of affection, which those whocan remember their first love--and first love is the only love worthmentioning--may think of for themselves. Well, far better than my feeblepencilling can picture, will they fill up this slight sketch. That walkto Oxton, that visit to the village school, was full of generousaffections unrepressed, the out-pourings of two deep-welled hearts, flowing forth in sympathetic ecstasy. The trees, and fields, andcottages were bathed in heavenly light, and the lovers, happy in eachother's trust, called upon the all-seeing God to bless the bestaffections of His children. 

And what a change these mutual confessions made in both their minds!Doubt was gone; they _were_ beloved; oh, richest treasure of joy! Fearwas gone; they dared declare their love; oh, purest river of allsublunary pleasures! No longer pale, anxious, thoughtful, worn by thecorroding care of "Does she--does she love?"--Charles was, from thatmoment, a buoyant, cheerful, exhilarated being--a new character; he puton manliness, and fortitude, and somewhat of involuntary pride; whilstEmily felt, that enriched by the affections of him whom she regarded asher wisest, kindest earthly friend, by the acquisition of his love, whohad led her heart to higher good than this world at its best can giveher, she was elevated and ennobled from the simple Indian child, intothe loved and honoured Christian woman. They went on that important walkto Oxton feeble, divided, unsatisfied in heart: they returned as twounited spirits, one in faith, one in hope, one in love; both heavenlyand earthly. 

But the happy hour is past too soon; and, home again, they mixed oncemore with those conflicting elements of hatred and contention. 

"Emily, " asked the general, in a very unusual stretch of curiosity, "where have you been to with Charles Tracy? You look flushed, my dear;what's the matter?"

Of course "nothing" was the matter: and the general was answered wisely, for love was nothing in his average estimate of men and women. 

"Charles, what can have come to you? I never saw you look so happy in mylife, " was the mother's troublesome inquiry; "why, our staid youthpositively looks cheerful. "

Charles's walk had refreshed him, taken away his head-ache, put him inspirits, and all manner of glib reasons for rejoicing. 

"You were right, Julian, " whispered Mrs. Tracy, "and we'll soon put thestopper on all this sort of thing. "

So, then, the moment our guiltless pair of lovers had severally stolenaway to their own rooms, there to feast on well-remembered looks, andwords, and hopes--there to lay before that heavenly Friend, whom bothhad learned to trust, all their present joys, as aforetime all theircares--Mrs. Tracy looked significantly at Julian, and thus addressed herever stern-eyed lord:

"So, general, the old song's coming true to us, I find, as to otherfolks, who once were young together:

 "'And when with envy Time, transported, seeks to rob us of our joys, You'll in your girls again be courted, and I'll go wooing in my boys. '"

So said or sung the flighty Mrs. Tracy. It was as simple and innocent aquotation as could possibly be made; I suppose most couples, who everheard the stanza, and have grown-up children, have thought upon its deardomestic beauty: but it strangely affected the irascible old general. Hefumed and frowned, and looked the picture of horror; then, with a fierceoath at his wife and sons, he firmly said--

"Woman, hold your fool's tongue: begone, and send Emily to me thisminute: stop, Mr. Julian--no--run up for your brother Charles, and comeyou all to me in the study. Instantly, sir! do as I bid you, without aword. "

Julian would gladly have fought it out with his imperative father; but, nevertheless, it was a comfort to have to fetch pale Charles for ajobation; so he went at once. And the three young people, two of themtrembling with affections overstrained, and the third indurated ineffrontery, stood before that stern old man. 

"Emily, child, "--and he added something in Hindostanee, "have I beenkind to you--and do you owe me any love?"

"Dear, dear sir, how can you ask me that?" said the warm-affectionedgirl, falling on her knees in tears. 

"Get up, sweet child, and hear me: you see those boys; as you love me, and yourself, and happiness, and honour--dare not to think of either, one moment, as your husband. "

Emily fainted; Charles staggered to assist her, though he well-nighswooned himself; and Julian folded his arms with a resolute air, aswaiting to hear what next. 

But the general disappointed him: he had said his say: and, as volatilesalts, a lady's maid, and all that sort of rëinvigoration, seemedessential to Emily's recovery, he rang the bell forthwith: so thepleasant family party broke up without another word. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE MYSTERY. 

OUR lovers would not have been praiseworthy, perhaps not human, had theynot met in secret once and again. True, their regularly concertedstudies were forbidden, and they never now might openly walk outunaccompanied: but love (who has not found this out?) is both daring andingenious; and notwithstanding all that Emily purposed about doing asthe general so strangely bade her, they had many happy meetings, richwith many happy words: all the happier no doubt for their stolensweetness. 

There was one great and engrossing subject which often had employedtheir curiosity; who and what was Emily Warren? for the poor girl didnot know herself. All she could guess, she told Charles, as he zealouslycross-questioned her from time to time: and the result of his inquirieswould appear to be as follows:

Emily's earliest recollections were of great barbaric pomp; hugeelephants richly caparisoned, mighty fans of peacock's tails, lines ofmatchlock men, tribes of jewelled servants, a gilded palace, with itsgardens and fountains: plenty of rare gems to play with, and a splendidqueenly woman, whom she called by the Hindoo name for mother. Thegeneral, too, was there among her first associations, as the gallantCaptain Tracy, with his company of native troops. 

Then an era happened in her life; a tearful leave-taking with that proudprincess, who scarcely would part with her for sorrow; but the captainswore it should be so: and an old Scotch-woman, her nurse, she couldremember, who told her as a child, but whether religiously or not shecould not tell, "Darling, come to me when you wish to know who madeyou;" and then Mrs. Mackie went and spoke to the princess, and soothedher, that she let the child depart peacefully. Most of her gorgeousjewellery dated from that earliest time of inexplicable orientalsplendour. 

After those infantine seven years, the captain took her with him to hisstation up the country, where she lived she knew not how long, in astrong hill-fort, one Puttymuddyfudgepoor, where there was a great dealof fighting, and besieging, and storming, and cannonading; but it ceasedat last, and the captain, who then soon successively became both majorand colonel, always kept her in his own quarters, making her his littlepet; and, after the fighting was all over, his brother-officers wouldtake her out hunting in their howdahs, and she had plenty ofpalanquin-bearers, sepoys, and servants at command; and, what was more, good nurse Mackie was her constant friend and attendant. 

Time wore on, and many little incidents of Indian life occurred, whichvaried every day indeed, but still left nothing consequential behindthem: there were tiger-hunts, and incursions of Scindian tribes, andPindarree chieftains taken captive, and wounded soldiers brought intothe hospital; and often had she and good nurse Mackie tended at the sickbed-side. And the colonel had the jungle fever, and would not let her gofrom his sight; so she caught the fever too, and through Heaven's mercywas recovered. And the colonel was fonder of her now than ever, callingher his darling little child, and was proud to display her early buddingbeauty to his military friends--pleasant sort of gentlemen, who gave herpretty presents. 

Then she grew up into womanhood, and saw more than one fine uniform ather feet, but she did not comprehend those kindnesses: and the general(he was general now) got into great passions with them, and stormed, andswore, and drove them all away. Nurse Mackie grew to be old, andsometimes asked her, "Can you keep a secret, child?--no, no, I dare nottrust you yet: wait a wee, wait a wee, my bonnie, bonnie bairn. "

And now speedily came the end. The general resolved on returning to hisown old shores: chiefly, as it seemed, to avoid the troublesomepertinacity of sundry suitors, who sought of him the hand of EmilyWarren for, by this name she was beginning to be called: in her earliestrecollection she was Amina; then at the hill-fort, Emily--Emily--nothingfor years but Emily: and as she grew to womanhood, the general bade hersign her name to notes, and leave her card at houses, as Emily Warren:why, or by what right, she never thought of asking. But nurse Mackie hadhinted she might have had "a better name and a truer;" and therefore, she herself had asked the general what this hint might mean; and he wasso angry that he discharged nurse Mackie at Madras, directly he arrivedthere to take ship for England. 

Then, just before embarking, poor nurse Mackie came to her secretly, andsaid, "Child, I will trust you with a word; you are not what he thinksyou. " And she cried a great deal, and longed to come to England; butthe general would not hear of it; so he pensioned her off, and left herat Madras, giving somebody strict orders not to let her follow him. 

Nevertheless, just as they were getting into the boat to cross the surf, the affectionate old soul ran out upon the strand, and called to her"Amy Stuart! Amy Stuart!" to the general's great amazement as clearly asher own; and she held up a packet in her hand as they were pushing off, and shouted after her, "Child--child! if you would have your rights, remember Jeanie Mackie!"

After that, succeeded the monotony of a long sea voyage. The general atfirst seemed vexed about Mrs. Mackie, and often wished that he had askedher what she meant; however, his brow soon cleared, for he reflectedthat a discarded servant always tells falsehoods, if only to make hermaster mischief. 

"The voyage over, Charles, with all its cards, quadrilles, doubling thecape, crossing the line, and the wearisome routine of sky and sea, thequarter-deck and cabin, we found ourselves at length in Plymouth Sound;left the Indiaman to go up the channel; and I suppose the post-chaisemay be consigned to your imagination. "

CHAPTER IX. 

HOW TO CLEAR IT UP. 

IN all this there was mystery enough for a dozen lovers to have crazedtheir brains about. Emily might be a queen of the East, defrauded ofhereditary glories, and at any rate deserved such rank, if Charles wasto be judge; but what was more important, if the general had any reasonat all for his arbitrary mandate prohibiting their love, it was verypossible that reason was a false one. 

Meantime, Charles had little now to live for, except his dear forbiddenEmily, any more than she for him. And to peace of mind in both, theelucidation of that mystery which hung about her birth, grew moreneedful day by day. At last, one summer evening, when they had managed aquiet walk upon the sands under the Beacon cliff, Charles said abruptly, after some moments of abstraction, "Dearest, I am resolved. "

"Resolved, Charles! what about?" and she felt quite alarmed; for herlover looked so stern, that she could not tell what was going to happennext. 

"I'll clear it up, that I will; I only wish I had the money. "

"Why, Charles, what in the world are you dreaming about? you frightenme, dearest; are you ill? don't look so serious, pray. "

"Yes, Emily, I will; at once too. I'm off to Madras by next packet; or, that is to say, would, if I could get my passage free. "

"My noble Charles, if that were the only objection, I would get you allthe means; for the kind--kind general suffers me to have whatever sums Ichoose to ask for. Only, Charles, indeed I cannot spare you; do not--donot go away and leave me; there's Julian, too--don't leave me--and youmight never come back, and--and--" all the remainder was lost insobbing. 

"No, my Emmy, we must not use the general's gold in doing what he mightnot wish; it would be ungenerous. I will try to get somebody to lend mewhat I want--say Mrs. Sainsbury, or the Tamworths. And as for leavingyou, my love, have no fears for me or for yourself; situated as we are, I take it as a duty to go, and make you happier, setting you in rights, whatever these may be; and for the rest, I leave you in His holy keepingwho can preserve you alike in body, as in soul, from all things thatwould hurt you, and whose mercy will protect me in all perils, and bringme back to you in safety. This is my trust, Emmy. "

"Dear Charles, you are always wiser and better than I am: let it be sothen, my best of friends. Seek out good nurse Mackie, I can give youmany clues, hear what she has to say; and may the God of your own poorfatherless Emily speed your holy mission! Yet there is one thing, Charles; ought you not to ask your parents for their leave to go? Youare better skilled to judge than I can be, though. "

"Emmy, whom have I to ask? my father? he cares not whither I go nor whatbecomes of me; I hardly know him, and for twenty years of my short lifeof twenty-one, scarcely believed in his existence; or should I ask mymother? alas--love! I wish I could persuade myself that she would wishme back again if I were gone; moreover, how can I respect her judgment, or be guided by her counsel, whose constant aim has been to thwart myfeeble efforts after truth and wisdom, and to pamper all ill growths inmy unhappy brother Julian? No, Emily; I am a man now, and take my ownadvice. If a parent forbade me, indeed, and reasonably, it would be fitto acquiesce; but knowing, as I have sad cause to know, that none butyou, my love, will be sorry for my absence, as for your sake alone thatabsence is designed, I need take counsel only of us who are herepresent--your own sweet eyes, myself, and God who seeth us. "

"True--most true, dear Charles; I knew that you judged rightly. "

"Moreover, Emmy, secresy is needful for the due fulfilment of mypurpose. " (Charles little thought how congenial to his nature was thatsame secresy. ) "None but you must know where I am, or whither I am gone. For if there really is any mystery which the general would conceal fromus, be assured he both could and would frustrate all my efforts if heknew of my design. The same ship that carried me out would convey anemissary from him, and nurse Mackie never could be found by me. I mustgo then secretly, and, for our peace sake, soon; how dear to me thatembassy will be, entirely undertaken in my darling Emmy's cause!"

"But--but, Charles, what if Julian, in your absence--"

"Hark, my own betrothed! while I am near you--and I say it not ofthreat, but as in the sight of One who has privileged me to be yourprotector--you are safe from any serious vexation; and the moment I amgone, fly to my father, tell him openly your fears, and he will scatterJulian's insolence to the winds of heaven. "

"Thank you--thank you, wise dear Charles; you have lifted a load from mypoor, weak, woman's heart, that had weighed it down too heavily. I willtrust in God more, and dread Julian less. Oh! how I will pray for youwhen far away. "

CHAPTER X. 

AUNT GREEN'S LEGACY. 

AT last--at last, Mrs. Green fell ill, and, hard upon the over-ripe ageof eighty-seven, seemed likely to drop into the grave--to theunspeakable delight of her expectant relatives. Sooth to say, nieceJane, the soured and long-waiting legatee, had now for years beentreating the poor old woman very scurvily: she had lived too long, andhad grown to be a burden; notwithstanding that her ample income stillkept on the house, and enabled the general to nurse his own East IndiaBonds right comfortably. But still the old aunt would not die, and asthey sought not her, nor heir's (quite contrary to St. Paul'sdisinterestedness), she was looked upon in the light of an incumbrance, on her own property and in her own house. Mrs. Tracy longed to throw offthe yoke of dependance, and made small secret of the hatred of thefetter: for the old woman grew so deaf and blind, that there could be norisk at all, either in speaking one's mind, or in thoroughly neglectingher. 

However, now that the harvest of hope appeared so near, the legateerenewed her old attentions: Death was a guest so very welcome to thehouse, that it is no wonder that his arrival was hourly expected withbuoyant cheerfulness, and a something in the mask of kindliness: but Isuspect that lamb-skin concealed a very wolf. So, Mrs. Tracy tenderlyinquired of the doctor, and the doctor shook his head; and other doctorscame to help, and shook their heads together. The patient still grewworse--O, brightening prospect!--though, now and then, a cordial draughtseemed to revive her so alarmingly, that Mrs. Tracy affectionatelyurging that the stimulants would be too exciting for the poor dearsufferer's nerves, induced Dr. Graves to discontinue them. Then thosefearful scintillations in her lamp of life grew fortunately duller, andthe nurse was by her bed-side night and day; and the old aunt becamemore and more peevish, and was more and more spoken of by the Tracyfamily--in her possible hearing, as "that dear old soul"--out of it, "that vile old witch. "

Charles, to be sure, was an exception in all this, as he ever was: forhe took on him the Christian office of reading many prayers to the poordecaying creature, and (only that his father would not hear of such athing) desired to have the vicar to assist him. Emily also, full ofsympathy, and disinterested care, would watch the fretful patient, hourafter hour, in those long, dull nights of pain; and the poor, old, perishing sinner loved her coming, for she spoke to her the words ofhope and resignation. Whether that sweet missionary, scarcely yet aconvert from her own dark creed--(Alas! the Amina had offered untoJuggernaut, and Emily of the strong hill-fort had scarcely heard of anytruer God; and the fair girl was a woman-grown before, in her firstearthly love, she also came to know the mercies Heaven has in store forus)--whether unto any lasting use she prayed and reasoned with thathard, dried heart, none but the Omniscient can tell. Let us hope: let ushope; for the fretful voice was stilled, and the cloudy foreheadbrightened, and the haggard eyes looked cheerfully to meet theinevitable stroke of death. Thus in wisdom and in charity, in patienceand in faith, that gentle pair of lovers comforted the dying soul. 

However, days rolled away, and Aunt Green lingered on still, tenaciouslyclinging unto life: until one morning early, she felt so much better, that she insisted on being propped up by pillows, and seeing all thehousehold round her bed to speak to them. So up came every one, in nosmall hope of legacies, and what the lawyers call "_donationes mortiscausâ_. "

The general was at her bed's-head, with, I am ashamed to say, perhapsunconsciously, a countenance more ridiculous than lugubrious; though hetried to subdue the buoyancy of hope and to put on looks of decentmourning; on the other side, the long-expectant legatee, Niece Jane, prudently concealed her questionable grief behind a scentedpocket-handkerchief. Julian held somewhat aloof, for the scene was toodepressing for his taste: so he affected to read a prayer-book, wrongway up, with his tongue in his cheek: Charles, deeply solemnized at thenear approach of death, knelt at the poor invalid's bedside; and Emilystood by, leaning over her, suffused in tears. At the further corners ofthe bed, might be seen an old servant or two; and Mrs. Green's butlerand coachman, each a forty years' fixture, presented their gray heads atthe bottom of the room, and really looked exceedingly concerned. 

Mrs. Green addressed them first, in her feeble broken manner:"Grant--and John--good and faithful--thank you--thank you both; and youtoo, kind Mrs. Lloyd, and Sally, and nurse--what's-your-name: give themthe packets, nurse--all marked--first drawer, desk: there--there--Godbless you--good--faithful. "

The old servants, full of sorrow at her approaching loss, were comfortedtoo: for a kind word, and a hundred pound note a-piece, made amends formuch bereavement: the sick-nurse found her gift was just a tithe oftheir's, and recognised the difference both just and kind. 

"Niece Jane--you've waited--long--for--this day: my will--rewards you. "

"O dear--dear aunt, pray don't talk so; you'll recover yet, pray--praydon't:" she pretended to drown the rest in sorrow, but winked at herhusband over the handkerchief. 

"Julian!" (the precious youth attempted to look miserable, and came ascalled, ) "you will find--I have remembered--you, Julian. " So he winked, too, at his mother, and tried to blubber a "thank you. "

"Charles--where's Charles? give me your hand, Charles dear--let me feelyour face: here, Charles--a little pocket-book--good lad--good lad. There's Emily, too--dear child, she came--too late--I forgot her--Iforgot her! general give her half--half--if you love--love--Emi--"

All at once her jaw dropped; her eyes, which had till now beenpreternaturally bright, filmed over; her head fell back upon the pillow;and the rich old aunt was dead. 

Julian gave a shout that might have scared the parting spirit!

Really, the general was shocked, and Mrs. Tracy too; and the servantsmurmured "shame--shame!" poor Charles hid his face; Emily looked upindignantly; but Julian asked, with an oath, "Where's the good of beinghypocrites?" and then added, "now, mother, let us find the will. "

Then the nurse went to close the dim glazed eyes; and the othersorrowing domestics slunk away; and Charles led Emily out of the chamberof death, saddened and shocked at such indecent haste. 

Meanwhile, the hopeful trio rummaged every drawer--tumbled out themingled contents of boxes, desk, and escritoire--still, no will--nowill: and at last the nurse, who more than once had muttered, "Shame onyou all, " beneath her breath, said, "If you want the will, it's under her pillow: but don't disturb her yet, poor thing!"

Julian's rude hand had already thrust aside the lifeless, yielding head, and clutched the will: the father and mother--though humbled andwonder-stricken at his daring--gathered round him; and he read aloud, boldly and steadily to the end, though with scowling brow, and manycurses interjectional:

"IN the name of God, Amen. I, Constance Green, make this my last willand testament. Forasmuch as my niece, Jane Tracy, has watched and waitedfor my death these two-and-twenty years, I leave her all the shoes, slippers, and goloshes, whereof I may happen to die possessed: item, Ileave Julian, her son, my '_Whole Duty of Man_, ' convinced that he isdeficient in it all: item, I confirm all the gifts which I intend tomake upon my death-bed: item, forasmuch as General Tracy, my niece'shusband, on his return from abroad, greeted me with much affection, Ibequeath and give to him five thousand pounds' worth of Exchequer bills, now in my banker's hands; and appoint him my sole executor. As to mylanded property, it will all go, in course of law, to my heir, SamuelHayley, and may he and his long enjoy it. And as to the remainder of mypersonal effects, including nine thousand pounds bank stock, my Dutchfives, and other matters, whereof I may die possessed (seeing that myrelatives are rich enough without my help), I give and bequeath thesame, subject as hereinbefore stated, to the trustees, for the timebeing, of the Westminster Lying-in Hospital, in trust, for the purposesof that charitable institution. In witness whereof, I have hereunto setmy hand and seal this 13th day of May, 1840. 

 "CONSTANCE GREEN. "

"Duly signed, sealed, and delivered! d----nation!" was Julian's briefepilogue--"General, let's burn it. "

"You can if you please, Mr. Julian, " interposed the nurse, who hadsecretly enjoyed all this, "and if you like to take the consequences;but, as each of the three witnesses has the will sealed up in copy, andthe poor deceased there took pains to sign them all, perhaps--"

This settled the affair: and the discomfited expectants made aprecipitate retreat. As the general, however, got vastly more than heexpected, for his individual merits; and seeing that he loved Emily asmuch as he hated both Julian and his wife, he really felt well-pleasedupon the whole, and took on him the duties of executor withcheerfulness. So they buried Aunt Green as soon as might be. 

CHAPTER XI. 

PREPARATIONS AND DEPARTURE. 

CHARLES'S pocket-book was full of clean bank notes, fifteen hundredpounds' worth: it contained also a diamond ring, and a lock of silveryhair; the latter a proof of affectionate sentiment in the kind old soul, that touched him at the heart. 

"And now, my Emmy, the way is clear to us; Providence has sent me this, that I may right you, dearest: and it will be wise in us to say nothingof our plans. Avoid inquiries--for I did not say conceal or falsifyfacts: but, while none but you, love, heed of my departure, and while Igo for our sakes alone, we need not invite disappointment byopen-mouthed publicity. To those who love me, Emmy, I am frank andfree; but with those who love us not, there is a wisdom and a justice inconcealment. They do not deserve confidence, who will not extend to ustheir sympathy. None but yourself must know whither I am bound; and, after some little search for curiosity's sake, when a week is past andgone, no soul will care for me of those at home. With you, I will manageto communicate by post, directing my letters to Mrs. Sainsbury, atOxton: I will prepare her for it. She knows my love for you, and howthey try to thwart us; but even she, however trustworthy, need not betold my destination yet awhile, until 'India' appears upon thepost-mark. How glad will you be, dearest one, how happy in oursecret--to read my heart's own thoughts, when I am far away--far away, clearing up mine Emmy's cares, and telling her how blessed I feel inministering to her happiness!"

Such was the substance of their talk, while counting out thepocket-book. 

Charles's remaining preparations were simple enough, now his purse wasflush of money: he resolved upon taking from his home no luggagewhatever: preferring to order down, from an outfitting house in London, a regular kit of cadet's necessaries, to wait for him at the EuropeHotel, Plymouth, on a certain day in the ensuing week. So that, burdenedonly with his Emmy's miniature, and his pocket-book of bank notes, hemight depart quietly some evening, get to Plymouth in a prëconcertedway, by chaise or coach, before the morrow morning; thence, a boat tomeet the ship off-shore, and then--hey, for the Indies!

It was as well-devised a scheme as could possibly be planned; though itssecresy, especially with a mother in the case, may be a moot point as tothe abstract moral thereof: nevertheless, concretely, the only heart hisso mysterious absence would have pained, was made aware of all: then, again, secresy had been the atmosphere of his daily life, the breath ofhis education; and he too sorely knew his mother would rejoice at thedeparture, and Julian, too--all the more certainly, as both brotherswere now rivals professed for the hand of Emily Warren: as to thegeneral, he might, or he might not, smoke an extra cheroot in theexcitement of his wonder; and if he cared about it anyways moretragically than tobacco might betray, Emily knew how to comfort him. 

With respect to other arrangements, Emmy furnished Charles with lettersto certain useful people at Madras, and in particular to the "somebody"who looked after Mrs. Mackie: so, the mystery was easy of access, and hedoubted not of overcoming, on the spot, every unseen difficulty. Theplan of leaving all luggage behind, a capital idea, would enable him togo forth freely and unshackled, with an ordinary air, in hat andgreat-coat, as for an evening's walk; and was quite in keeping with thenatural reserve of his whole character--a bad habit of secresy, which heprobably inherited from his father, the lieutenant of old times. Andyet, for all the wisdom, and mystery, and shrewd settling of the plan, its accomplishment was as nearly as possible most fatally defeated. 

The important evening arrived; for the Indiaman--it was our old friendSir William Elphinston--would be off Plymouth, next morning: the goodshad been, for a day or two, safely deposited at the Europe, as perinvoice, all paid: the lovers, in this last, this happiest, yet by farthe saddest of their stolen interviews, had exchanged vows and kisses, and upon the beach, beneath those friendly cliffs, had commended oneanother to their Father in heaven. They had returned to the unsocialcircle of home; all was fixed; the clock struck nine: and Charles, accidentally squeezing Emily's hand, rose to leave the tea-table. 

"Where are you going, Mr. Charles?"

"I am going out, Julian. "

"Thank you, sir! I knew that, but whither? General, I say, here'sCharles going to serenade somebody by moonlight. "

The brandy-sodden parent, scarcely conscious, said something about hisinfernal majesty; and, "What then?--let him go, can't you?"

"Well, Julian dear, perhaps your brother will not mind your going withhim; particularly as Emily stays at home with me. "

This Mrs. Tracy spoke archly, intended as a hint to induce Julian toremain: but he had other thoughts--and simply said, in an ill-temperedtone of voice, "Done, Charles. "

It was a dilemma for our escaping hero; but glancing a last look atEmily, he departed, and walked on some way as quietly as might be withJulian by his side: thinking, perhaps, he would soon be tired; andsuffering him to fancy, if he would, that Charles was bound either onsome amorous pilgrimage, or some charitable mission. But they leftBurleigh behind them--and got upon the common--and passed it by, far outof sight and out of hearing--and were skirting the high banks of thedarkly-flowing Mullet--and still there was Julian sullenly beside him. In vain Charles had tried, by many gentle words, to draw him into commonconversation: Julian would not speak, or only gave utterance to somehinted phrase of insult: his brow was even darker than usual, and nightwas coming on apace, and he still tramped steadily along beside hisbrother, digging his sturdy stick into the clay, for very spite's sake. At length, as they yet walked along the river's side in thatunfrequented place, Julian said, on a sudden, in a low strange tone, asif keeping down some rising rage within him, "Mr. Charles, you love Emily Warren. "

"Well, Julian, and who can help loving her?"

It was innocently said; but still a maddening answer, for he loved hertoo. 

"And, sirrah, " the brother hoarsely added, "she--she does not--doesnot--hate you, sir, as I do. "

"My good Julian, pray do not be so violent; I cannot help it if the deargirl loves me. "

"But I can, though!" roared Julian, with an oath, and lifted up hisstick--it was nearer like a club--to strike his brother. 

"Julian, Julian, what are you about? Good Heavens! you would not--youdare not--give over--unhand me, brother; what have I done, that youshould strike me? Oh! leave me--leave me--pray. "

"Leave you? I will leave you!" the villain almost shouted, and smote himto the ground with his lead-loaded stick. It was a blow that must havekilled him, but for the interposing hat, now battered down upon hisbleeding head. Charles, at length thoroughly aroused, though his foemust be a brother, struggled with unusual strength in self-preservinginstinct, wrested the club from Julian's hand, and stood on thedefensive. 

Julian was staggered: and, after a moment's irresolution, drawing apistol from his pocket, said, in a terribly calm voice, "Now, sir! I have looked for such a meeting many days--alone, by night, with you! I would not willingly draw trigger, for the noise might bringdown other folks upon us, out of Oxton yonder: but, drop that stick, orI fire. "

Charles was noble enough, without another word, to fling the club intothe river: it was not fear of harm, but fear of sin, that made him trusthimself defenceless to a brother, a twin-brother, in the dark: he couldnot be so base, a murderer, a fratricide! Oh! most unhallowed thought!Save him from this crime, good God! Then, instantaneously reflecting, and believing he decided for the best, when he saw the ruffian glaringon him with exulting looks, as upon an unarmed rival at his mercy, withno man near to stay the deed, and none but God to see it, Charlesresolved to seek safety from so terrible a death in flight. 

Oxton was within one mile; and, clearly, this was not like flying fromdanger as a coward, but fleeing from attempted crime, as a brother anda Christian. Julian snatched at him to catch him as he passed: and, failing in this, rushed after him. It was a race for life! and they wentlike the wind, for two hundred yards, along that muddy high-banked walk. 

Suddenly, Charles slipped upon the clay, that he fell; and Julian, witha savage howl, leapt upon him heavily. 

Poor youth, he knew that death was nigh, and only uttered, "God forgiveyou, brother! oh, spare me--or, if not me, spare yourself--Julian, Julian!"

But the monster was determined. Exerting the whole force of hisherculean frame, he seized his scarce-resisting victim as he lay, and, lifting him up like a child, flung his own twin-brother head foremostinto that darkly-flowing current!

There was one piercing cry--a splash--a struggle; and again nothingbroke upon the silent night, but the murmur of that swingeing tide, asthe Mullet hurried eddying to the sea. 

Julian listened a minute or two, flung some stones at random into theriver, and then hastily ran back to Burleigh, feeling like a Cain. 

CHAPTER XII. 

THE ESCAPE. 

BUT the overruling hand of Him whose aid that victim had invoked, wasnow stretched forth to save! and the strong-flowing tide, that ran toorapidly for Charles to sink in it, was commissioned from on High tocarry him into an angle of that tortuous stream, where he clung byinstinct to the bushes. Silence was his wisdom, while the murderer wasnear: and so long as Julian's footsteps echoed on the banks, Charlesstirred not, spoke not, but only silently thanked God for his wonderfuldeliverance. However, the footsteps quickly died away, though heard faroff clattering amid the still and listening night; and Charles, thankfully, no less than cautiously, drew himself out of the stream, very little harmed beyond a drenching: for the waters had recovered himat once from the effects of that desperate blow. 

It was with a sense of exultation, freedom, independence, that he nowhastened scatheless on his way; dripping garments mattered nothing, normud, nor the loss of his demolished hat: the pocket-book was safe, andEmmy's portrait, (how he kissed it, then!) and luckily a travelling capwas in his great-coat pocket: so with a most buoyant feeling of animaldelight, as well as of religious gratitude, he sped merrily once moreupon his secret expedition. Thank Heaven! Emmy could not know the perilhe had past: and wretched Julian would now have dreadful reason of hisown for this mysterious absence: and it was a pleasant thing to trudgealong so freely in the starlight, on the private embassy of love. HappyCharles! I know not if ever more exhilarated feelings blessed the youth;they made him trip along the silent road, in a gush of joyfulness, atthe rate of some six miles an hour; I know not if ever such deliciousthoughts of Emily's attachment, and those gorgeous mysteries in India, of adventure, enterprise, escape, had heretofore caused his heart tobound so lightsomely within him, like some elastic spring. I know not ifever strong reliance upon Providential care, more earnest prayers, praises, intercessions (for poor Julian, too, ) were offered on the altarof his soul. Happy Charles!

So he went on and on--long past Oxton, and Eyemouth, and Surbiton, andover the ferry, and through the sleeping turnpikes, and past the bridge, and along the broad high-road, until gray of morning's dawn revealed thesuburbs of Plymouth. 

Of course he missed the mail by which he intended to have gone--forJulian's dread act delayed him. 

Long before his journey's end, his clothes were thoroughly dried, andviolent exercise had shaken off all possible rheumatic consequence ofthat fearful plunge beneath the waters: five-and-twenty miles in fourhours and three-quarters, is a tolerable recipe for those who havetumbled into rivers. We must recollect that he had gone as quick as hecould, for fear of being late, now the coach had passed. At a littlecountry inn, he brushed, and washed, and made toilet as well as he wasable, took a glass of good Cognac, both hot and strong; and felt more ofa man than ever. 

Then, having loitered awhile, and well-remembered Emily in his prayers, at about eight in the morning he presented himself among his luggage atthe Europe in gentlemanly trim, and soon got all on board the pilotboat, to meet the Indiaman just outside the breakwater. We may safelyleave him there, happy, hopeful Charles! Sanguine for the future, exulting in the present, and thankful for the past: already has hepoured out all his joys before that Friend who loves her too, andinvoked His blessing on a scheme so well designed, so providentiallyaccomplished. 

I had almost forgotten Julian: wretched, hardened man, and how fared he?The moment he had flung his brother into that dark stream, and thewaters closed above him greedily that he was gone--gone for ever, hefirst threw in stones to make a noise like life upon the stream, butthat cheatery was only for an instant: he was alone--a murderer, alone!the horrors of silence, solitude, and guilt, seized upon him like threefuries: so his quick retreating walk became a running; and the runningsoon was wild and swift for fear; and ever as he ran, that piercingscream came upon the wind behind, and hooted him: his head swam, hiseyes saw terrible sights, his ears heard terrible sounds--and he scouredinto quiet, sleeping Burleigh like a madman. However, by some strangegood luck, not even did the slumbering watchman see him: so he gotin-doors as usual with the latch-key (it was not the first time he hadbeen out at night), crept up quietly, and hid himself in his ownchamber. 

And how did he spend those hours of guilty solitude? in terrors? inremorse? in misery? Not he: Julian was too wise to sit and think, and inthe dark too; but he lit both reading lamps to keep away the gloom, andsmoked and drank till morning's dawn to stupify his conscience. 

Then, to make it seem all right, he went down to breakfast as usual, though any thing but sober, and met unflinchingly his mother's naturalquestion--

"Good morning, Julian--where's Charles?"

"How should I know, mother; isn't he up yet?"

"No, my dear; and what is more, I doubt if he came home last night. "

"Hollo, Master Charles! pretty doings these, Mr. Sabbath-teacher! so heslept out, eh, mother?"

"I don't know--but where did you leave him, Julian?"

"Who! I? did I go out with him? Oh! yes, now I recollect: let's see, westrolled together midway to Oxton, and, as he was going somewhatfurther, there I left him?"

How true the words, and yet how terribly false their meaning!

"Dear me, that's very odd--isn't it, general?"

"Not at all, ma'am--not at all; leave the lad alone, he'll be back bydinner-time: I didn't think the boy had so much spirit. "

Emily, to whom the general's hint was Greek, looked up cheerfully and inher own glad mind chuckled at her Charles's bold adventure. 

But the day passed, off, and they sent out men to seek for him: andanother--and all Burleigh was a-stir: and another--and the coast-guardsfrom Lyme to Plymouth Sound searched every hole and corner: andanother--when his mother wept five minutes: and another--when the wonderwas forgotten. 

However, they did not put on mourning for the truant: he might turn upyet: perhaps he was at Oxford. 

Emily had not much to do in comforting the general for his dear son'sloss; it clearly was a gain to him, and he felt far freer than whenwisdom's eye was on him. Charles had been too keen for father, mother, and brother; too good, too amiable: he saw their ill, condemned it byhis life, and showed their dark too black against his brightness. Theunnatural deficiency of mother's love had not been overrated: Julian hadall her heart; and she felt only obliged to the decamping Charles forleaving Emily so free and clear to his delightful brother. She neverthought him dead: death was a repulsive notion at all times to her: nodoubt he would turn up again some day. And Julian joked with her aboutthat musty proverb "a bad penny. "

As to our dear heroine, she never felt so happy in all her life beforeas now, even when her Charles had been beside her; for within a day ofhis departure he had written her a note full of affection, hope, andgladness; assuring her of his health, and wealth, and safe arrival onboard the Indiaman. The noble-hearted youth never said one single wordabout his brother's crime: but he did warn his Emmy to keep close besidethe general. This note she got through Mrs. Sainsbury; that invalid ladyat Oxton, who never troubled herself to ask or hear one word beyond herown little world--a certain physic-corner cupboard. 

And thou--poor miserable man--thou fratricide in mind--and to thy bestbelief in act, how drags on now the burden of thy life? For a day ortwo, spirits and segars muddled his brain, and so kept thoughts away:but within a while they came on him too piercingly, and Julian writhedbeneath those scorpion stings of hot and keen remorse: and when thecoast-guards dragged the Mullet, how that caitiff trembled! and whennothing could be found, how he wondered fearingly! The only thing thewretched man could do, was to loiter, day after day, and all day long, upon the same high path which skirts the tortuous stream. Fascinatedthere by hideous recollections, he could not leave the spot for hours:and his soft-headed, romantic mother, noticing these deep abstractions, blessed him--for her Julian was now in love with Emily. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

NEWS OF CHARLES. 

AY--in love with Emily! Fiercely now did Julian pour his thoughts thatway; if only hoping to forget murder in another strong excitement. Julian listened to his mother's counsels; and that silly, cheated womanplayfully would lean upon his arm, like a huge, coy confidante, and fillhis greedy ears (that heard her gladly for very holiday's sake fromfearful apprehensions), with lover's hopes, lover's themes, his Emily'sperfection. Delighted mother--how proud and pleased was she! quite inher own element, fanning dear Julian's most sentimental flame, andscheming for him interviews with Emily. 

It required all her skill--for the girl clung closely to her guardian:he, unconscious Argus, never tired of her company; and she, rememberingdear Charles's hint, and dreading to be left alone with Julian, wouldpersist to sit day after day at her books, music, or needle-work in thestudy, charming General Tracy by her pretty Hindoo songs. With him shewalked out, and with him she came in; she would read to him for hours, whether he snored or listened; and, really, both mother and son wereseveral long weeks before their scheming could come to any thing. A_tête-à-tête_ between Julian and Emily appeared as impossible to manage, as collision between Jupiter and Vesta. 

However, after some six weeks of this sort of mining and counter-mining(for Emily divined their wishes), all on a sudden one morning thegeneral received a letter that demanded his immediate presence for a dayor two in town; something about prize-money at Puttymuddyfudgepoor. Emily was too high-spirited, too delicate in mind, to tell her guardianof fears which never might be realized; and so, with some forebodings, but a cheerful trust, too, in a Providence above her, she saw thegeneral off without a word, though not without a tear; he too, thatstern, close man, was moved: it was strange to see them love each otherso. 

The moment he was gone, she discreetly kept her chamber for the day, onplea of sickness; she had cried very heartily to see him leave her--hehad never yet left her once since she could recollect--and thus shereally had a head-ache, and a bad one. 

Julian Tracy gave such a start, that he knocked off a cheffonier ofrare china and glass standing at his elbow; and the smash of mandarinsand porcelain gods would have been enough, at any other time, to havedriven his mother crazy. 

"Charles alive?" shouted he. 

"Yes, Julian--why not? You saw him off, you know: cannot you remember?"

Now to that guilty wretch's mind the fearful notion instantaneouslyoccurred, that Emily Warren was in some strange, wild way bantering him;she knew his dreadful secret--"he _had_ seen him off. " He trembled likean aspen as she looked on him. 

"Oh yes, he remembered, certainly; but--but where was her letter?"

"Never mind that, Julian; you surely would not read another person'sletters, Monsieur le Chevalier Bayard?"

Emily was as gay at heart that morning as a sky-lark, and her innocentpleasantry proved her strongest shield. Julian dared not ask to see theletter--scarcely dared to hope she had one, and yet did not know what tothink. As to any love scene now, it was quite out of the question, notwithstanding all his mother's hints and management; a new excitingthought entirely filled him: was he a Cain, a fratricide, or not? wasCharles alive after all? And, for once in his life, Julian had somerepentant feelings; for thrilling hope was nigh to cheer his gloom. 

It really seemed as if Emily, sweet innocent, could read his inmostthoughts. "At any rate, " observed she, playfully, "Bayard may take thepostman's privilege, and see the outside. "

With that, she produced the ship-letter that had put her in suchspirits, legibly dated some twenty-two days ago. Yes, Charles's hand, sure enough! Julian could swear to it among a thousand. And he fainteddead away. 

What an astonishing event! how Mrs. Tracy praised her noble-spiritedboy! How the bells rang! and hot water, and cold water, and salts, andrubbings, and _eau de Cologne_, and all manner of delicate attentions, long sustained, at length contributed to Julian's restoration. Moreover, even Emily was agreeably surprised; she had never seen him in so amiablea light before; this was all feeling, all affection for his brother--herdear--dear Charles. And when Mrs. Tracy heard what Emily said ofJulian's feeling heart, she became positively triumphant; not half somuch at Charles's safety, and all that, as at Julian's burst of feeling. She was quite right, after all; he was worthy to be her favourite, andshe felt both flattered and obliged to him for fainting dead away. "Yes--yes, my dear Miss Warren, depend upon it Julian has fine feelings, and a good heart. " And Emily began to condemn both Charles and herselffor lack of charity, and to think so too. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

THE TETE-A-TETE. 

NO sooner had "dear Julian" recovered, which he really had not quiteaccomplished until the day had begun to wear away (so great a shock hadthat intelligence of Charles been to his guilty mind), than thegratified and prudent mother fancied this a famous opportunity to leavethe young couple to themselves. It was after dinner, when they hadretired to the drawing-room; and I will say that Emily had never seemedso favourably disposed towards that rough, but generous, heart before. So then, on some significant pretence, well satisfied her favourite washimself again, as bold, and black, and boisterous as ever, the masculinemother kissed her hand to them, as a fat fairy might be supposed to do, and operatically tripped away, coyly bidding Emily "take care of Juliantill she should come back again. "

The momentary gleam of good which glanced across that bad man's hearthas faded away hours ago; his repentant thoughts had been occasionedmore from the sudden relief he experienced at running now no risks forhaving murdered, than for any better feeling towards his brother, or anyhumbler notions of himself. Nay, a strong rëaction occurred in his ideasthe moment he had seen his brother's writing; and when he fainted, hefainted from the struggle in his mind of manifold exciting causes, suchas these:--hatred, jealousy, what he called love, though a lower namebefitted it, and vexation that his brother was--not dead. Oh mother, mother! if your poor weak head had but been wise enough to read thatheart, would you still have loved it as you do? Alas--it is a deeplesson in human nature this--she would! for Mrs. General Tracy was oneof those obstinate, yet superficial characters, whom no reason canconvince that they are wrong, no power can oblige to confess themselvesmistaken. She rejoiced to hear him called "her very image;" andpredominant vanity in the large coquette extended to herself atsecond-hand; self was her idol substance, and its delightful shadow wasthis mother's son. 

The moment Mrs. Tracy left the room, Julian perceived his opportunity:Charles, detested rival, far away at sea; the guardian gone to London;Emily in an unusual flow of affability and kindness, and he--alone withher. Rashly did he bask his soul in her delicious beauty, deliberatelydrinking deep of that intoxicating draught. Giving the rein to passion, he suffered that tumultuous steed to hurry him whither it would, in madunbridled course. He sat so long silently gazing at her with thelack-lustre eyes of low and dull desire, that Emily, quite thrown offher guard by that amiable fainting for his brother, addressed him in herinnocent kind-heartedness, "Are you not recovered yet, dear Julian?"

The effect was instantaneous: scarcely crediting his ears that heard hercall him "dear, " his eyes, that saw her winning smile upon him, hestarted from his chair, and trembling with agitation, flung himself ather feet, to Emily's unqualified astonishment. 

"Why, Julian, what's the matter?--unhand me, sir! let go!" (for he hadgot hold of her wrist. )

The passionate youth seized her hand--that one with Charles's ring uponit--and would have kissed it wildly with polluting lips, had she notshrieked suddenly "Help! help!"

Instantly his other hand was roughly dashed upon her mouth--so roughlythat it almost knocked her backwards--and the blood flowed from herwounded lip; but by a preternatural effort, the indignant Indian queenhurled the ruffian from her, flew to the bell, and kept on ringingviolently. 

In less than half a minute all the household was around her, headed bythe startled Mrs. Tracy, who had all the while been listening in theother drawing-room: butler, footmen, house-maids, ladies'-maids, cook, scullions, and all rushed in, thinking the house was on fire. 

No need to explain by a word. Emily, radiant in imperial charms, stood, like inspired Cassandra, flashing indignation from her eyes at thecowering caitiff on the floor. The mother, turning all manner ofcolours, dropped on her knees to "poor Julian's" assistance, affectingto believe him taken ill. But Emily Warren, whose insulted pridevouchsafed not a word to that guilty couple, soon undeceived allparties, by addressing the butler in a voice tremulous and broken--

"Mr. Saunders--be so good--as to go--to Sir Abraham Tamworth's--in thesquare--and request of him--a night's--protection--for apoor--defenceless, insulted woman!"

She could hardly utter the last words for choking tears: but immediatelybattling down her feelings, added, with the calmness of a heroine--

"You are a father, Mr. Saunders--set all this before Sir Abrahamstrongly, but delicately. 

"Footmen! so long as that wretch is in the room, protect me, as you aremen. "

And the stately beauty placed herself between the two liveried lacqueys, as Zenobia in the middle of her guards. 

"Marguerite!"--the pretty little Française tripped up to her--"wipe thisblood from my face. "

Beautiful, insulted creature! I thought that I looked upon some woundedBoadicea, with her daughters extracting the arrow from her cheek. 

"And now, kind Charlotte, fetch my cloak; and follow me to ProspectHouse, with what I may require for the night. Till the general's return, I stay not here one minute. "

Then, without a syllable, or a look of leave-taking, the wise and noblegirl--doubtless unconsciously remembering her early Hindoo braveries, the lines of matchlock men, the bowing slaves, the processions, and herjewelled state of old--marched away in magnificent beauty, accompaniedin silence by the whole astonished household. 

Mrs. Tracy and her son were left alone: the silly, silly mother thoughthim "hardly used. " Julian, whose natural effrontery had entirelydeserted him, looked like what he was--a guilty coward: and the mother, who had pampered up her "fine high-spirited son" to his full-growncriminality by a foolish education, really--when she had time to thinkof any thing but him--was excessively frightened. The general would beback to-morrow, and then--and then!--she dreaded to picture thatexplosion of his wrath. 

CHAPTER XV. 

SATISFACTION. 

SIR ABRAHAM TAMWORTH, G. C. B. --a fine old Admiral of the White, whosomewhat looked down upon the rank of General, H. E. I. C. S. --wasastonished, as well he might be, at Mr. Saunders, and his message: and, of course, most gladly acquiesced in acting as poor Emily's protector. Accordingly, however jealous Lady Tamworth and her daughters mightheretofore have felt of that bright beauty at the balls, they were nowall genuine sympathy, indignation, and affection. Emily, I need hardlysay, went straight up stairs to have her cry out. 

"Whom are you writing to, George, in such a hurry?" asked the admiral, of a fine moustachioed son, George St. Vincent Tamworth, of the RoyalHorse Guards, who had just got six months' leave of absence for the sakeof marriage with his cousin. 

The gallant soldier tossed a billet to his father, who mounted hisspectacles, and quietly read it at the lamp. 

"Captain Tamworth desires Mr. Julian Tracy's company to-morrow morning, at seven o'clock, in the third meadow on the Oxton road. The captainbrings a friend with him; also pistols and a surgeon; and he desires Mr. Tracy to do the like: Prospect House, Thursday evening. "

"So, George, you consider him a gentleman, do you? I am afraid it's apoor compliment to our fair young friend. " And he quietly crumpled upthe challenge in his iron hand. 

"Really, sir!--you surprise me;--pardon me, but I will send that note:mustn't I chastise the fellow for this insufferable outrage?"

"No doubt, George, no doubt of it at all: when a lady is insulted, and aman (not to say a queen's officer) stands by without taking notice ofit, he deserves whipping at the cart's-tail, and Coventry for life. I'veno patience, boy, with such mean meekness, as putting up with bullyinginsolence when a woman's in the case. Let a man show moral courage, ifhe can and will, in his own affront; I honour him who turns on his heelfrom common personal insult, and only wish my own old blood was coolenough to do so: but the mother, wife, and sister, ay, George, and thepoor defenceless one, be she lady, peasant, or menial, who comes to usfor safety in a woman's dress, we must take up their quarrel, or we arenot men!--"

"Don't interrupt him, George, " uxoriously suggested Lady Tamworth, "your father hasn't done talking yet. " For George was getting terriblyimpatient; he knew, from sad experience, how much the admiral was givento prosing. However, the oration soon proceeded to our captain's entiresatisfaction, after his progenitor had paused awhile for breath's sakein his eloquence. 

"--Take up their quarrel, or we are not men. Nevertheless, boy, I cannotsee the need of pistols. The only conceivable case for violent redress, is woman's wrong: and he who wrongs a woman, cannot be a gentleman;therefore, ought not to be met on equal terms. For other causes ofduello, as hot-headed speeches, rudenesses, or slights, forgive, forbearto fan the flame, and never be above apologizing: but in an outrage suchas this, let a fine-built fellow, such as you are, George (and the womenshould show wisdom in their choice of champions), let a man, and aqueen's officer as you are, treat this brute, Julian Tracy, as amartinet huntsman would a hound thrown out. As for me, boy, I'm going tocall on Mrs. Tracy at eleven o'clock to-morrow morning--and, withoutpresuming to advise a six foot two of a son, I think--I think, if I wereyou, I would be dutiful enough to say--'Father, I will accompanyyou--and take a horsewhip with me. '"

"Agreed, agreed, sir!" replied the well-pleased son, and her ladyshiptoo vouchsafed her approbation. 

Emily had gone to bed long ago, or rather to her chamber; where thethree Misses Tamworth had been all kindness, curiosity, and consolation. So, Sir Abraham and his lady, now the speech was finished, followedtheir example of retirement: and the captain newly blood-knotted hishunting-whip, _con amore_, not to say _con spirito_, overnight. 

Nobody will wonder to hear, that when the gallant representatives ofarmy and navy called next morning at number seven, Mrs. Tracy and herson were "not at home:" and of course it would be far too Julian-like aproceeding, for true gentleman to think of forcing their company on theprobably ensconced in-dwellers. Accordingly, they marched away, withouthaving deigned to leave a card; the captain taking on himself the dutyof perambulating sentinel, while his father proceeded to the library asusual. Judge of the glad surprise, when, within ten minutes, ourvindictive George perceived the admiral coming back again, full-sail, with the mother and son in tow, creeping amicably enough up the terrace. Sir Abraham had given her his arm, and precious Mr. Julian was a littlein the rear: for the old folks were talking confidentially. 

George St. Vincent, placing his whip in the well-known position of"Cane, a mystery, " advanced to meet them; and, just after passing hisfather, with whom he exchanged a very comfortable glance, discoveredthat the heroic Julian, who had caught a glimpse of the ill-concealedweapon, was slinking quickly round a corner to avoid him. It wascertainly undignified to run, but the gallant captain did run, nevertheless and soon caught the coward by the collar. 

Then, at arm's length, was the hunting-whip applied, full-swing; up theterrace, and down the parade, and through High-street, and Smith-street, and Oxton-road, and aristocratical Pacton-square, and the well-throngedplebeian market-place; lash, lash, lash, in furious and fast successionon the writhing roaring culprit; to the universal excoriation of Mr. Julian Tracy, and the amazement of an admiring and soon-collectedcrowd--the rank, beauty, and fashion--of Burleigh Singleton. Julian wasstrong indeed, and a coal-heaver in build, but conscience had unnervedhim; and the coarse noisy bully always is a coward: therefore, it was apleasant thing to see how easy came the captain's work to him--he hadnothing to do but to lash, lash, lash, double-thonged, like aslave-driver: and, except that he made the caitiff move along, to be aspectacle to man and woman, up and down the town, he might as well, forany difficulty in the deed, have been employed in scarifying agate-post. 

At last, thoroughly exhausted with having inflicted as much punishmentas any three drummers at a soldier's whipping-match, and spying out his"tiger" in the throng, our gallant Avenging Childe tossed the heavy whipto the trim cockaded little man, that he might carry home thatinstrument of vengeance, deliberately wiped his wet mustachios, andgiving Julian one last kick, let the fellow part in peace. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

HOW CHARLES FARED. 

HAVING thus found protectors for poor Emily, and disposed of herassailant to the entire satisfaction of all mankind, let us turnseawards, and take a look at Charles. 

Now, "no earthly power, "--as a certain ex-chancellor protested--shallinduce me to do so mean a thing as to open Charles's letters, and spreadthem forth before the public gaze. Doubtless, they were all thingstender, warm, and eloquent; doubtless, they were tinted rosy hue, withlove's own blushes, and made glorious with the golden light ofunaffected piety. I only read them myself in a reflected way, by lookinginto Emily's eyes; and I saw, from their ever-changing radiance, howfeelingly he told of his affections; how fervently he poured out all hisheart upon the page; how evidently tears and kisses had made many wordsillegible; how wise, sanguine, happy, and religious, was her own devotedCharles. 

Of the trivial incidents of voyaging, his letters said not much: thoughcheerful and agreeable in his floating prison, with the various exportedmarrying-maidens and transported civil officers, who constitute theaverage bulk of Indian cargoes outward bound, Charles mixed but littlein their society, seldom danced, seldom smoked, seldom took a hand atwhist, or engaged in the conflicts of backgammon. Sharks, storms, water-spouts; the meeting divers vessels, and exchanging post-bags;tar-barrelled Neptune of the line, Cape Town with its mountain and theTable-cloth, long-rolling seas; and similar common-places, Charles didnot think proper to enlarge upon: no more do I. Life is far too shortfor all such petty details: and, more pointedly, a wire-drawn book isthe just abhorrence of a generous public. 

The letters came frequently: for Charles did little else all day butwrite to Emmy, so as always to be ready with a budget for the next pieceof luck--a home-bound ship. He had many things to teach her yet, sweetstudent; and it was a beautiful sight to see how her mind expanded as anopening flower before the sun of tenderness and wisdom. Each letter, both in writing and in reading, was the child of many prayers: and eventhe loveliness of Emily grew more soft, more elevated, "as it had beenthe face of an angel, " when feeding in solitary joy on those effusionsof her lover's heart. 

Of course, he could not hear from her, until the overland mail mighthaply bring him letters at Madras: so that, as our Irish friends wouldsay, with all her will to tell him of her love, "the reciprocity mustneeds be all on one side. " But Emily did write too; earnestly, happily:and poured her very heart out in those eloquent burning words. I daresay Charles will get the letter now within a day or two: for the roaringsurf of Madras is on the horizon, almost within sight. 

Nevertheless, before he gets there, and can read thoseletters--precious, precious manuscripts--it will be my painful duty, asa chronicler of (what might well be) truth, to put the reader inpossession of one little hint, which seemed likeliest to wreck thehappiness of these two children of affection. 

I am Emily's invisible friend: and as the dear girl ran to me onemorning, with tears in her eyes, to ask me what I thought of a certainmysterious paragraph, I need not scruple to lay it straight before thereader. 

At the end of a voluminous love-letter, which I really did not think ofprying into, occurred the following postscript, evidently written at thelast moment of haste. 

"Oh! my precious Emmy, I have just heard the most fearful rumour of illthat could possibly befall us: the captain of our ship--you willremember Captain Forbes, he knew you and the general well, he said--hasjust assured me that--that--! I dare not, cannot write the awful words. Oh! my own Emmy--Heaven grant you be my own!--pray, pray, as I willnight and day, that rumour be not true: for if it be, my love, both Godand man forbid us ever to meet again! How I wish I could explain it all, or that I had never heard so much, or never written it here, and told ityou, though thus obscurely: for I can't destroy this letter now, theships are just parting company, and there is no time to write another. Yet will I hope, love, against hope. Who knows? through God's goodmercy, it may all be cleared up still. If not--if not--strive to forgetfor ever, your unhappy "CHARLES. 

"Perhaps--O, glorious thought!--Nurse Mackie may know better than thecaptain, after all; and yet, he seems so positive: if he is right, thereis nothing for us both but Wo! Wo! Wo!"

Now, to say plain truth, when Emily showed me this, I looked very blankupon it. That Charles had heard some meddlesome report, which (if true)was to be an insuperable barrier to their future union, struck me at aglimpse. But I had not the heart to hint it to her; and only encouragedhope--hope, in God's help, through the means of Mrs. Mackie and herpapers. 

As for the poor girl herself, she asked me, in much humility, and withmany sobs, if I did not fear that her Hindoo mystery was this:--she wasthe vilest of the vile, a Pariah, an outcast, whose very presence iscontamination!

Beautiful, loving, heavenly-hearted creature! so humble in the midst ofher majestic loveliness! how touching was the thought, that she thusreadily acquiesced in any the deepest humiliation holy Providence hadseen fit to send her; and though the sentence would have crushed herhappiness for ever, till the day of death, that she could still look upand say, "Be it to thine handmaid even as thou wilt. "

As I had no better method of explaining the matter, and as her infantinereminiscences and prejudices about caste were strong, I even let herthink so, if she would: it was a far better alternative than my own sadthoughts about the business: and, however painful was the process, itwas something consolatory to observe, that this voluntary humiliationmellowed and chastened her own character, subduing tropical fires, andtempering the virgin gold by meekness. 

Oh! Charles, Charles, my poor fellow, "who have cast your all upon adie, and must abide the issue of the throw, " I most fervently hope thatgossiping Captain Forbes spoke falsely: it is a comfort to reflect thatthe world is often very liberal in attributing the honours of paternityto some who really do not deserve them. And if a rich old bachelor lookskindly on a foundling, is it not pure malice on that sole account ofcharity to hail him father? Besides--there's Nurse Mackie. --Speed toMadras, poor youth, and keep your courage up. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

THE GENERAL'S RETURN. 

IN a most unwonted flow of animal spirits, and an entire affabilitywhich restored him at once to the rank of a communicative creature, General Tracy came back on Friday night. He had met with marvellousprosperity; for Hancock's had been paying off the prize-money; and hisown lion's share, as general, in the easy process of dethroning half adozen diamond-hilted rajahs and nabobs, amounted to something like fourlacs of rupees, nearly half a crore! Such a flush of wealth, and he wasrich already without it, exhilarated the bilious old gentleman sostrangely, that positive peonies were blooming in his cheeks; and, as ifthis was not miracle enough, he had brought his wife as a presentMaurice's '_Antiquities of India_, ' gloriously bound, and had even beenso superfluous as to purchase a new pair of double-barrelled pistols forJulian: the lad was a fine young fellow after all, and ought to beencouraged in snuffing out a candle; as for Emily's _petit cadeau_, itwas a fifty guinea set of cameos, the choicest in their way that Howelland James's had to show him. Moreover, he had sent a Bow-street officerto Oxford, to make inquiries after Charles: actually, good fortune hadmade him at once humanized and happy. 

So the chaise rattled up, and the general bounded out, and flew into thearms of his wondering wife, as Paris might have flown to Helen, orLeander to his heroine--the only feminine Hero, whom grammar recognises. It was past eleven at night: therefore he did not think to ask forJulian; no doubt the boy was gone to bed. 

Indeed, he had; and was tossing his wealed body, full of pains, andaches, and bruises, as softly as he could upon the feather-bed: he hadneed of poultices all over, and a quart of Friar's Balsam would havedone him little good: after his well-merited thrashing, the floggedhound had slunk to his kennel, and locked himself sullenly in, withouteven speaking to his mother. Tobacco-fumes exuded from the key-hole, andI doubt not other creature-comforts lent the muddled man their aid. 

However, after the first rush of news to Mrs. Tracy, her lord, who hadevery moment been expecting the door to fly open, and Emily to fall intohis arms--for strangely did they love each other--suddenly asked, "But, where's Emmy all this time! she knows I'm here?--not got to bed, is she?--knew I was coming?--"

"Oh! general, I'll tell you all about it to-morrow morning. "

"About what, madam? Great God! has any harm befallen the child?Speak--speak, woman!"

"Dear--dear--Oh! what shall I say?" sobbed the silly mother. "Emily--Emily, poor dear Julian--"

"What the devil, ma'am, of Julian?" The general turned white as a sheet, and rang the bell, in singular calmness; probably for a dram of brandy. Saunders answered it so instantly, that I rather suspect he was waitingjust outside. 

The moment Mrs. Tracy saw the gray-headed butler, anticipating all thathe might say, she brushed past him, and hurriedly ran up-stairs. 

"What's all this, Mr. Saunders? where's Miss Warren?" And the poor oldguardian seemed ready to faint at his reply: but he heard it outpatiently. 

"I am very sorry to say, general, that Miss Emily has been forced totake refuge at Sir Abraham Tamworth's: but she's well, sir, and safe, sir; quite well and safe, " the good man hastened to say, "only I'mafraid that Mr. Julian had been taking liberties with--"

I dare not write the general's imprecation: then, as he clenched thearms of his easy-chair, as with the grasp of the dying, he asked, in aquick wild way--

"But what was it?--what happened?"

"Nothing to fear, sir--nothing at all, general;--I am thankful to say, that all I saw, and all we all saw, was Miss Emily pulling at thebell-rope with blood upon her face, and Mr. Julian on the floor: but Itook the young lady to Sir Abraham's immediately, general, at her owndesire. "

The father arose sternly; his first feeling was to kill Julian; but thesecond, a far better one, predominated--he must go and see Emily atonce. 

So, faintly leaning on the butler's arm, the poor old man (whom a moietyof ten minutes, with its crowding fears, had made to look some ten yearsolder, ) proceeded to the square, and knocked up Sir Abraham at midnight, and the admiral came down, half asleep, in dressing-gown and slippers, vexed at having been knocked up from his warm berth so uncomfortably: itput him sorely in remembrance of his hardships as a middy. 

"Kind neighbour, thank you, thank you; where's Emmy? take me to myEmmy;" and the iron-hearted veteran wept like a driveller. 

Sir Abraham looked at him queerly: and then, in a cheerful, friendlyway, replied--

"Dear general, do not be so moved: the girl's quite safe with us; you'llsee her to-morrow morning. All's right; she was only frightened, andGeorge has given the fellow a proper good licking: and the girl's a-bed, you know; and, eh? what?"--

For the poor old man, like one bereaved, said, supplicatingly--

"In mercy take me to her--precious child!"

"My dear sir--pray consider--it's impossible; fine girl, you know;--LadyTamworth, too--can't be, can't be, you know, general. "

And the mystified Sir Abraham looked to Saunders for an explanation--

"Was his master drunk?"

"I must speak to her, neighbour; I must, must, and will--dear, dearchild: come up with me, sir, come; do not trifle with a breaking heart, neighbour!"

There was a heart still in that hard-baked old East Indian. 

It was impossible to resist such an appeal: so the two elders crept upstairs, and knocked softly at her chamber-door. Clearly, the girl wasasleep: she had sobbed herself to sleep; the general had been looked forall day long, and she was worn with watching; he could hardly come atmidnight; so the dear affectionate child had sobbed herself to sleep. 

"Allow me, Sir Abraham. " And General Tracy whispered something at thekey-hole in a strange tongue. 

Not Aladdin's "open Sesame" could have been more magical. In a moment, roused up suddenly from sleep, and forgetting every thing but thosetender recollections of gentle care in infancy, and kindness all throughlife, the child of nature startled out of bed, drew the bolt, and inbeauteous disarray, fell into that old man's arms!

It was enough; he had seen her eye to eye--she lived: and thewhite-haired veteran, suffered himself to be led away directly from thelanding, like a child, by his sympathizing neighbour. 

"My heart is lighter now, Sir Abraham: but I am a poor weak old man, andowe you an explanation for this outburst; some day--some day, not now. O, if you could guess how I have nursed that pretty babe when alone indistant lands; how I have doated on her little winning ways, and beengladdened by the music of her prattle; how I have exulted to behold herloveliness gradually expanding, as she was ever at my side, in peril asin peace, in camp as in quarters, in sickness as in health, still--still, the blessed angel of a bad man's life--a wicked, hard oldman, kind neighbour--if you knew more--more, than for her sake I daretell you--and if you could conceive the love my Emmy bears for me, youwould not think it strange--think it strange--" He could not say asyllable more; and the admiral, with Mr. Saunders, too, who joined themin the study, looked very little able to console that poor old man. Forthey all had hearts, and trickling eyes to tell them. 

Then having arranged a shake-down for his master in Sir Abraham'sstudy--for the guardian would not leave his dear one everagain--Saunders went home, purposing to attend with razors in themorning. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

INTERCALARY. 

THE Tamworths did not altogether live at Burleigh Singleton--it was fartoo petty a place for them; dullness all the year round (howeverpleasant for a month or so, as a holiday from toilsome pleasures) wouldnever have done for Lady Tamworth and her daughters: but they regularlytook Prospect House for six weeks in the summer season, when tired ofPortland Place, and Huntover, their fine estate in Cheshire: and so, from constant annual immigration, came as much to be regardedBurleighites, as swifts and swallows to be ranked as British birds. Ionly hint at this piece of information, for fear any should think itunlikely, that grandees of Sir Abraham's condition could exist for everin a place where the day-before-yesterday's '_Times_' is firstintelligence. 

Moreover, as another interjectional touch, it is only due to mylife-likenesses to record, that Mrs. Green's, although a terrace-house, and ranked as humble number seven, was, nevertheless, a tolerablyspacious mansion, well suited for the dignity of a butler to repose in:for Mrs. Green had added an entire dwelling on the inland side, as, likemost maritime inhabitants, she was thoroughly sick of the sea, and nevercared to look at it, though living there still, from mere disinclinationto stir: so, then, it was quite a double house, both spacious andconvenient. As for the inglorious incident of Julian's latch-key, Ishould not wonder if many wide street-doors to many marble halls areconscious of similar convenient fastenings, if gentlemen of Julian'snocturnal tastes happen to be therein dwelling. Another little matter isworth one word. The house had been Mrs. Green's, a freehold, and was, therefore, now her heir's; but the general, as an executor, remainedthere still, until his business was finished; in fact, he took hisyear's liberty. 

He had returned from India rolling in gold; for some great princess orother--I think they called her a Begum or a Glumdrum, or other such likeGulliverian appellative--had been singularly fond of him, and had loadedhim in early life with favours--not only kisses, and so forth, butjewellery and gold pagodas. And lately, as we know, Puttymuddyfudgepoor, with its radiating rajahs and nabobs, had proved a mine of wealth: for acrore is ten lacs, and a lac of rupees is any thing but a lack ofmoney--although rupees be money, and the "middle is distributed;" inspite of logic, then, a lack means about twelve thousand pounds: andfour of them, according to Cocker, some fifty thousand. It would appearthen, that with the produce of the Begum's diamonds, converted intomoney long ago, and some of them as big as linnet's eggs--and not totake account of Mrs. Green's trifling pinch of the five Exchequer bills, all handed over at once to Emily--the General's present fortune wasexactly one hundred and twenty-three thousand pounds. 

Of course, _he_ wasn't going to bury himself at Burleigh Singleton muchlonger; and yet, for all that stout intention of houses and lands, andcarriages and horses, in almost any other county or country, it is astrue as any thing in this book, that he was a resident still, alease-holder of Aunt Green's house, long after the _dénouement_ of thisstory; in many things an altered man, but still identical in one; theunchangeable resolve (though never to be executed) of leaving Burleighat farthest by next Michaelmas. Most folks who talk much, do little; andtaciturn as the general now is, and has been ever throughout life, itwill surprise nobody who has learned from hard experience how silly andharmful a thing is secresy (exceptionables excepted), to find that hegrew to be a garrulous old man, gossipping for ever of past, present, future, and, not least, about his deeds at Puttymuddyfudgepoor. 

General Tracy is by this time awake again; if ever indeed he slept onthat uncomfortable shakedown; and, after Mr. Saunders and therazor-strop, has greeted brightly-beaming Emily with more than usualtenderness. Her account of the transaction made his very blood boil;especially as her pretty pouting lips were lacerated cruelly inside:that rude blow on the mouth had almost driven the teeth through them. How confidingly she told her artless tale; how gently did her fondprotector kiss that poor pale cheek; and how sternly did he vow fullvengeance on the caitiff! Not even Emily's intercession could avail toturn his wrath aside. He could hardly help flying off at once to dosomething dreadful; but common courtesy to all the Tamworth familyobliged him to defer for an hour all the terrible things he meant to do. So he began to bolt his breakfast fiercely as a cannibal, and salutedLady Tamworth and her daughters with such savage looks, that the captainconsiderately suggested:

"Here, general, " (handing him a most formidable carving-knife, ) "chargethat boar's head, grinning defiance at us on the side-board; it will doyou good to hew his brawny neck. My mother, I am sure, for one, willthank you to do the honours there instead of me. Isn't it a comfort now, to know that I broke the handle of my hunting-whip across the fellow'sback, and wore all the whip-cord into skeins. Come, I say, general, don't eat us all round; and pray have mercy on that poor, flogged, miserable sinner. "

This banter did him good, especially as he saw Emily smiling; so herelaxed his knit brow, condescended to look less like Giant Blunderbore, soon became marvellous chatty, and ate up two French rolls, an egg, someanchovies, a round of toast, and a mighty slice of brawn; these, washeddown with a couple of cups of tea, soothed him into something likecomplacency. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

JULIAN'S DEPARTURE. 

LONG before the general got home, still in exalted dudgeon (indeed soonafter the general had left home over night), the bird had flown; for thebetter part of valour suggested to our evil hero, that it would bediscreet to render himself a scarce commodity for a season; and as soonas ever his mother had run up to his room-door to tell him of hisdanger, when her lord was cross-questioning the butler, he resolved uponinstant flight. Accordingly, though sore and stiff, he hurried up, dressed again, watched his father out, and tumbling over Mrs. Tracy, whowas sobbing on the stairs, ran for one moment to the general's room;there he seized a well-remembered cash-box, and instinctively possessedhimself of those new, neat, double-barrelled pistols: a bully never goesunarmed. These brief arrangements made, off he set, before his fathercould have time to return from Pacton Square. 

Therefore, when the general called, we need not marvel that he found himnot; no one but the foolish mother (so neglected of her son, yet stillexcusing him) stood by to meet his wrath. He would not waste it on her;so long as Julian was gone, his errand seemed accomplished; for all hecame to do was to expel him from the house. So, as far as regarded Mrs. Tracy, her husband, wotting well how much she was to blame, merelycommanded her to change her sleeping-room, and occupy Mr. Julian's infuture. 

The silly woman was even glad to do it; and comforted herself from timeto time with prying into her own boy's exemplary manuscripts, memorandaof moralities, and so forth; with weeping, like Lady Constance, over hisempty "unpuffed" clothes; with reading ever and anon his choicecollection of standard works, among which '_Don Juan_' and Mr. ThomasPaine were by far the most presentable; and with tasting, till it grewto be a habit, his private store of spirituous liquors. Thus did shemourn many days for long-lost Julian. 

I am quite aware what became of him. The wretched youth, mad for Emily'slove, and tortured by the tyranny of passion, had nothing else to livefor or to die for. He accordingly took refuge in the hovel of asmuggler, an old friend of his, not many miles away, disguised himselfin fisherman's costume, and bode his opportunity. 

Beauteous girl! how often have I watched thee with straining eyes andaching heart, as thou wentest on thy summer's walk so oftentimes toOxton, there to exercise thy bountiful benevolence in comforting thesick, gladdening the wretched, and lingering, with love's own look, inCharles's village school; how often have I prayed, that guardian angelsmight be about thy path as about thy bed! For the prowling tiger was onthy track, poor innocent one, and many, many times nothing but one ofGod's seeming accidents hath saved thee. Who was that strange man sooften in the way? At one time a wounded Spanish legionist, with headbound up; at another, an old beggar upon crutches; at another, a flourymiller with a donkey and a sack; at another, a black looking man, inslouching sailor's hat and fishing-boots?

Fair, pure creature! thou hast often dropped a shilling in that beggar'shand, and pitied that poor maimed soldier; once, too, a huge gipsy womanwould have had thee step aside, and hear thy fortunes. Heaven guardedthee then, sweet Emily; for both girl and lover though thou art, thouwould'st not listen to the serpent's voice, however fair might be thepromises. And Heaven guarded thee ever, bidding some one pass along thepath just as the ruffian might have gagged thy smiling mouth, andhurried thee away amongst his fellows; and more than once, especially, those school children, bursting out of Charles's school at dusk, haveunconsciously escorted thee in safety from the perils of that tiger onthy track. 

CHAPTER XX. 

ENLIGHTENMENT. 

THE general could not now be kept in ignorance of Charles's expedition;in fact, he had found his heart, and began resolutely to use it. So, thevery day on which he had lost Julian, he intended very eagerly to seekout Charles; for the Oxford search had failed, and no wonder. Now, though Emily had told, as we well know, to both mother and son hersecret, the father was not likely to be any the wiser; for he now neverspoke to his wife, and could not well speak to his son. However, oneday, an hour after an overland letter, a very exhilarating one, datedMadras, whereof we shall hear anon, fair Emily, in the fullness of herheart, could not help saying, "Dearest sir, you are often thinking of poor lost Charles, I know; andyou are very anxious about him too, though nobody but myself, who amalways with you, can perceive it: what if you heard he was safe andwell?"

"Have you heard any tidings of my poor boy, Emmy?"

She looked up archly, and said, "Why not?" her beautiful eyes adding, asplainly as eyes could speak, "I love him, and you know it; of course Ihave heard frequently from dear, dear Charles. "

But the guardian met her looks with a keen and chilling answer: "Whynot! why not! Does he dare to write to you, and you to love him? Oh, that I had told them both a year ago! But where is he now, child? Don'tcry, I will not speak so angrily again, my Emmy. "

"I hardly dare to tell you, dearest sir: you have always been as afather to me, and I never knew any other; but there are things I cannotexplain to myself, and I was very wretched; and so, kind guardian, Charles--Charles was so good--"

"What has he done?--where has he gone?" hastily asked his father. 

"Oh, don't, don't be angry with us; in a word, he is gone to Madras, tofind out Nurse Mackie, and to tell me who I am. "

The poor old man, who had treasured up so long some mystery, probably avery diaphanous one, for Emily's own dear sake in the world's esteem, and from the long bad habit of reserve, fell back into his chair as ifhe had been shot; but he did not faint, nor gasp, nor utter a sound; heonly looked at her so long and sorrowfully, that she ran to him, andcovered his pale face with her own brown curls, kissing him, and wipingfrom his cheek her starting tears. 

"Emmy, dear--I can tell you--and I--no, no, not now, not now; if hecomes back--then--then; poor children! Oh, the sin of secresy!"

"But, dearest sir, do not be so sad; Charles has happy news, he says. "

"Happy, child? Good Heaven! would it could be so!"

"Indeed, indeed, a week ago he was as miserable as any could be, and sowas I; for he heard something terrible about me--I don't know what--butI feared I was a--Pariah! However, now he is all joy, and coming homeagain as soon as possible. "

The general shook, his head mournfully, as physicians do when hope isgone; but still he looked perplexed and thoughtful. 

"You will show me the letters, dear, I dare say: but I do not commandyou, Emmy; do as you like. "

"Certainly, my own kindest guardian--all, all, and instantly. "

And flying up to her room, she returned with as much closely-writtenmanuscript as would have taken any but a lover's eye a full week todecipher. The general, not much given to literary matters, looked quitescared at such a prospect. 

"Wait, Emmy; not all, not all; show me the last. "

I dare say Emily will forgive me if I get it set up legibly in print. May I, dear?

CHAPTER XXI. 

CHARLES AT MADRAS. 

LUCKILY enough for all mankind in general, and our lovers in particular, Charles's last letter was very unlike some that had preceded it; forinstead of the usual "Oh, my love"'s, "sweet, sweet eyes, " "darling"'s, and all manner of such chicken-hearted nonsense, it was positivelysensible, rational, not to say utilitarian: though I must acknowledgethat here and there it degenerates into the affectionate, orStromboli-vein of letter-writing, at opening especially; and really nowand then I shall take leave to indicate omitted inflammations by a *. 

"DEAREST, DEAREST EMMY, * * * * *

[and so forth, a very galaxy of stars to the bottom of this page; enoughto put the compositor out of his terrestrial senses. ]

"You see I have recovered my spirits, dearest, and am not now afraid totell you how I love you. Oh, that detestable Captain Forbes! let him notcross my path, gossiping blockhead! on pain of carrying about 'tildeth, ' in the middle of his face, a nose two inches longer. I heartilywish I had never listened for an instant to such vile insinuations; andwhen I look at this red right hand of mine, that dared to pen the trashin that black postscript, I look at it as Cranmer did, and (but that itis yours, Emmy, not mine), could wish it burnt. But no fears now, mygirl, huzza, huzza! I believe every one about me thinks me daft; and soI am for very joyfulness; notwithstanding, let me be didactic, or youwill say so too. I really will endeavour to rein in, and go along in theregular hackney trot, that you may partly comprehend me. Well, then, here goes; try your paces, Dobbin. 

"On the morning of Sunday, April 11th, 1842, the good shipElphinston--(that's the way to begin, I suppose, as per ledger, log-book, and midshipman's epistles to mamma)--in fact, dear, we castanchor just outside a furious wall of surf, which makes Madras a veryformidable place for landing; and every one who dares to do so certainof a watering. There lay the city, most invitingly to storm-tost tars, with its white palaces, green groves, and yellow belt of sand, bluehills in the distance, and all else _coleur de rose_. But--but, Emmy, there was no getting at this paradise, except by struggling through acouple of miles of raging foam, that would have made mince-meat of theSpanish Armada, and have smashed Sir William Elphinston to pieces. How, then, did we manage to survive it? for, thank God always, here I am totell the tale. Listen, Emmy dear, and I will try not to be tedious. 

"We were bundled out of the rolling ship into some huge flat-bottomedboats, like coal-barges, and even so, were grated and ground severaltimes by the churning waves on the ragged reefs beneath us: and, just asI was enjoying the see-saw, and trying to comfort two poor drenchedwomen-kind who were terribly afraid of sharks, a huge, cream-colouredbreaker came bustling alongside of us, and roaring out 'Charles Tracy, 'gobbled me up bodily. Well, dearest, it wasn't the first time I hadfloundered in the waters [noble Charles! noble Charles! he had longforgiven Julian]; so I was battling on as well as I could, with a stoutheart and a steady arm, when--don't be afraid--a _Catamaran_ caught me!If you haven't fainted (bless those pretty eyes of your's, my Emmy!)read on; and you will find that this alarming sort of animal is neitheran albatross nor an alligator, but simply--a life-boat with a Triton inthe stern. Yes, God's messenger of life to me and happiness to you, mygirl, came in the shape of a kindly, chattering, blue-skinned, humancreature, who dragged me out of the surf, landed me safely, and, I neednot say, got paid with more than hearty thanks. So, I scuffled to thecustom-house to look after my traps and fellow-passengers, like adripping merman. 

"'Who is that miserable old woman, bothering every body?' asked I of avery civil searcher, profuse in his salaams. 

"'Oh, Sahib, you will know for yourself, presently: she's always hangingabout here, to get news of somebody in England, I believe--and to try tofind a charitable captain who will take her all the way for nothing:rather too much of a good thing, you know, Sahib. '

[We really cannot undertake to scribble broken English: so we willtranslate any thing that may mysteriously have been chatted byhavildars, and coolies; and all manner of strange names. ]

"'Poor old soul--she looks very wretched: what's her name?' asked I, carelessly. 

"'Oh, I never troubled to inquire, Sahib: I believe she was an oldservant left behind as lumber, and she pesters every one, day by day, about some 'bonnie bonnie bairn. ''

"In a moment, Emmy, I had seized on dear nurse Mackie!

"Very old, very deaf, very infirm--she fancied I was driving her away, as many others might have done; and, with a truly piteous face, pleaded--

"'Gude sir, have mercy on a puir auld soul--and let her ask for hersweet young mistress, only once, sir--only once more. '

"'Emily Warren?' said I. 

"Her wrinkled face brightened over as with glory--and she answered--

"'Bless the mouth that spake it, and these ears that hear her name!yes--yes--yes--they call her so; where is she? how is she? have you seenher? is she yet alive?'

"Leading away the affectionate old soul from the crowd that wascollecting round us, I left orders about luggage as a traveller should, and then told her all I knew: and I know you pretty well, I think, myEmmy. 

"Her joy was like a mad woman's: the dear old Hecate pranced, anddanced, and sung, and shouted like nothing but a mother when she findsher long-lost child: not that she's your mother, Emmy dear. No--no--matters are better than that: all she vouchsafes, though, totell me is, that you are a lady born and bred, and--for I cannot findthe words to inform your pure mind clearer--that 'you are not what hethinks you. '"

[Here followeth another twinkling universe of stars;

 * * * * * * *

and thereafter our cavalier condescendeth again to matters of fact. ]

"Nurse Mackie of course comes back with me next packet; this letter goesby the overland mail more quickly than we can; gladly would I go too, but the old woman, whose life is essential to your rights, would die offatigue by the way; as it is, I am obliged to coddle her, and feed her, and ptisan her, like a sick baby, bless her dear old heart that loves mydarling Emmy! She has a pack of papers with her, which she will notopen, till the general is by her side: if she unfortunately dies beforewe can return, I am to have them, and all will be right. But the oldsoul is so afraid of being left behind (as you throw away theorange-peel after you have squeezed it), that she will not tell me aword about them yet; so, I only gather what I can from her cautiousgarrulity, hints about a Begum and a captain, and the Stuarts, and aPutty-what-d'ye-call-it. And it is all in document, as well as_viva-voce_ (this means 'gossip, ' dear). So now you may be expecting us, as soon as ever we can get to you. Tell the general all this, and givehim my best love, next after your's Emmy; for he is my father still, andmy very heart yearns after him: O, that he were kinder with me as I seehe is with you, dear, and more open with us all! Also, kiss, if she willlet you, my mother for me, and I hope you will have hinted to her longago, that I am only playing truant. How is poor--poor Julian? he willunderstand me, if you tell him I forgive him, and will never say oneword about our little tiff. And now dearest Emmy--"

[The remainder of this letter must, believe me, be as starry as before. ]

 * * * * *

CHAPTER XXII. 

REVELATIONS. 

GENERAL TRACY gave a long-drawn sigh: and tears--tears of trueaffection--stood in those most fish-like eyes, as he mournfully said, "Bless him, bless dear Charles, almost as much as you, my own sweetEmmy. Heaven send it be true--for Heaven can work miracles. But withouta miracle, Emily, in sober sadness I declare it, you must forget--_yourbrother Charles, my daughter_!"

Emily fell flat upon her face, so cold, so white, that he believed herdead. 

Oh! that he had never--never said that word: or better still, poorfather, that you had never kept the dreadful secret from them. Theadultery, indeed, was sin; but years of ill-concealings have multipliedits punishment. Wretched father--wretched children! that must bear anerring father's curse. 

Oh! that Jeanie Mackie may have reasons, proofs; and be not an impostorafter all, dressing up a tale that over-sanguine Charles may bring herback again to Scotland. Well--well! I am full of sadness andperplexities: but we shall hear it out anon. Heaven help them!

Emily was taken very ill, and had a long fit of sickness. Day andnight--night and day, did her poor wasting anxious father watch by herbed-side, gentle as the gentlest nurse--tender as the tenderest ofmothers. And, indeed, the Lord of Life and Wisdom was gracious to themboth; raising up the poor weak child again; and teaching that old man, through this daughter of his shame and sin in youth, that religion is acure for all things. Ay, "the blessed angel of a bad man's life, "indeed--indeed was she; and he humbly knelt, as little children kneel, that hard and dried old man; and his eyes caught the ray of Heaven'smercy, looking up in joy to read forgiveness; and his heart was bathedin penitence--the rock flowed out amain; and his mind was quickened intofaith--he lived, he breathed "a new-born babe, " that poor and bad oldman, given to the prayers of his own daughter!

All this while, Mrs. Tracy, thrown upon her own resources, has beencontinually tasting dear Julian's store, and finding out excuses for histrivial peccadilloes. And when, from the recesses of his desk, she hadrouted out (in company with sundry more, rather contrasting with amother's pure advice) a few of her own letters, which had not yet beendestroyed, she would doat by the hour on these proofs of his affection. And then, her spirits were so low; and his choice smuggled Hollands sorequisite to screw them up to par again; and no sooner had they rallied, than they would once more begin to droop; so she cried a good deal, andkept her bed; and very often did not remember exactly, whether she waslying down there, or figuring on the Esplanade with Julian, and--allthat sort of thing: accordingly, it is not to be wondered at if, inAunt Green's double-house, the general and Emily saw very little of her, and during all this illness, had almost forgotten her existence. Nevertheless, she was alive still, and as vast as ever--though a courseof strong waters had shattered her nerves considerably; even more so, than her real mother's grief at Julian's protracted absence. 

Never had he been heard of since he left, hard heart; though he mighthave guessed a mother's sorrow, and was not far away, and often lingerednear the house in strange disguises. It would have been easy for him, insome clever way or other, latch-key and all, to have gained access toher, and comforted her, and given her some real proof, that all the loveshe had shed on him had not been utterly thrown away; but he didn't--hedidn't; and I know not of a darker trait in Julian's whole career; hewas insensible to love--a mother's love. 

For love is the weapon which Omnipotence reserved to conquer rebel man;when all the rest had failed. Reason he parries; Fear he answers blow toblow; future interest he meets with present pleasure; but Love, that sunagainst whose melting beams the Winter cannot stand, that soft-subduingslumber which wrestles down the giant, there is not one human creaturein a million--not a thousand men in all earth's huge quintillion, whoseclay-heart is hardened against love. 

Yet was Julian one of those select ones; an awful instance of thatpossible, that actual, though happily that scarcest of all characters, aman, "Black, with _no_ virtue, and a thousand crimes. "

The amiable villain--one whose generosity redeems his guilt, whosekindliness outweighs his folly, or whose beauty charms the eye tooverlook his baseness--this too common hero is an object, an examplefraught with perilous interest. Charles Duval, the polite; PaulClifford, the handsome; Richard Turpin, brave and true; Jack Sheppard, no ignoble mind and loving still his mother; these, and such as these, with Schiller's '_Robbers_' and the like, are dangerous to gaze on, asGermany, if not England too, remembers well. But, not more true to life, though far less common to be met with, is Julian's incorrigible mind:one, in whose life are no white days; one, on whose heart are no brightspots; when Heaven's pity spoke to him, he ridiculed; as, when Histhreatenings thundered, he defied. Of this world only, and tending to aworse appetite was all he lived for: and the core of appetite is ironselfishness. 

The filched cash-box proved to be too well-filled for him to troublehimself with thinking of his mother yet awhile: and his smugglingacquaintances, a rough-featured, blasphemous crew, set him as theirchief, so long as he swore loudest, drank deepest, and had money atcommand. He hid the money, that they should not secretly steal from himthat to which he owed his bad supremacy; and his double-barrels, shottedto the muzzle, were far too formidable for any hope of getting at it byopen brute force. Nevertheless, they were "fine high-spirited" fellowsthose, bold, dark men, of Julian's own kidney; who toasted in their cupseach other's crimes, and the ghost or two that ought to have beenhaunting them. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

CONVALESCENCE. 

VERY slowly did Emily recover, for the blow had been more than she couldbear: nothing but religion gave her any chance at all: and the phials, blisterings, bleedings, would have been in vain, in vain--she must havedied long ago--had it not been for the remembrance of God's love, resignation to His will, and trust in the wisdom of his Providence. Butthese specific remedies gradually brought her round, while the kind-eyeddoctors praised their own prescriptions: and after many rallyings andrelapses, delirious ramblings, and intervals of hallowed Christianpeace, the eye of Love's meek martyr brightened up once more, and healthflushed again upon her cheek. 

She recovered, God be praised! for her death would have been poorCharles's too; and the same grave that yawned for her and him would haveclosed upon their father also. Even as it was, when she arose from offthe weary bed of sickness, it was to be a nurse herself, and watchbeside that patient, weak old man. He could not bear her out of hissight all the fever through; but eagerly would listen to her hymns andprayers, joining in them faintly like a dying saint. With the saddeningsecret, which had so long pressed upon his mind, he seemed to havethrown off his old nature, as a cast skin: and now he was all franknessfor reserve, all piety for profaneness, all peacefulness for blusteringsand wrath. 

He remembered then poor Julian and his mother: taking blame to himself, justly, deeply, for neglected duties, chilling lack of sympathy, andthat dull domestic sin, that still continued evil of unnaturalomissions--stern reserve. And he would gladly have seen Julian by hisbedside, to have freely forgiven the lad, and welcomed him home again, and begun once more, in openness and charity, all things fair and new:but Julian was not to be found, though rewards were offered, andplacards posted up, and emissaries from the Detective Police-forcesought him far and wide. Alas! the bold bad man had heard with scorn ofhis father's penitence, and knew that he would gladly have receivedhim;--but what cared he for kindnesses or pardons? He only lived towaylay Emily. 

As for Mrs. Tracy, she was seldom in a state to appear; but one day shemanaged to refrain a little, and came to see her husband, almost sober. I was, authorially speaking, behind the door, and saw and heard asfollows:

The old man, worn and emaciate, was weakly sitting up in bed, and Emmaby his side, with the Bible in her lap: she casually shut it as themother entered. 

"Well, Miss Warren, there's a time for all things; but this is neithermorning, noon, nor night: nor Sunday either, nor holiday, that I knowof; it's eleven o'clock on Tuesday, Miss--and I think you might as wellleave the general at peace, without troubling him for ever with yourprayer-books and your Bibles. "

"Jane, my dear, I requested it of Emily; come and sit by me, and take myhand, wife. "

"Thank you, sir, you are very obliging: not while that young woman is inthe room. --You ought to be ashamed of yourself, General Tracy. "

Poor Emmy ran away to weep. It seems that, in her delirium, she hadspoken many things, and the servants blabbed them out to Mrs. Tracy. 

"Ah, my poor wife, indeed I am: both ashamed and sorry--heartily sorry. But God forgives me, Jenny, and I hope that you will too. "

"Upon, my word, general, you carry it off with a high hand: and, notcontent, sir, with insulting me in my own home by bringing here yourother women's children, you have expelled poor dear, dear Julian. "

"Jane, if you will remember, he ran away himself; and you know that nowI gladly would receive him: we are all prodigal sons together, and ifGod can bear with us, Jane, we ought to look kindly on each other. "

"Ha! that's always the way with old sinners like you--cantinghypocrites! Be a man, General Tracy, if you can, and talk sense. I neverdid any harm or sin in all my life yet, and don't intend to: and mypoor boy Julian's well enough, if they'd only let him alone; but nobodyunderstands his heart but me. Good boy, I'm sure there's virtue enoughleft in him, if he loves his mother. "--_If_ he loves his mother. 

"Jane, dear, I sent for you to kiss you; for I could not die in peace, nor live in peace (whichever God may please), without your pardon, Jane, for a thousand unkindnesses--but, especially for the sin that gave meEmily. Forgive me this, my wife. "

"Never, sir!" rejoined that miserable mind; and fancied that she wasacting virtuously. She thrust aside the kindly proffered hand; scowledat him with darkened brow; drew up her commanding height; and, callingMrs. Siddons to remembrance, brushed away in the indignant attitude of atragedy queen. 

Emmy ran again to her father, and the vain bad mother to her bottle; wemust leave them to their various avocations. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

CHARLES DELAYED. 

FEW things could well be more unlikely than that Emily should hear ofCharles again before she saw him: for, having left Madras as speedily asmight be, now that his mission was so easily, yet so naturally, accomplished--having posted, as we know, his overland letter--and havinggot on board the fast-sailing ship Samarang, Captain Trueman, Charles, in the probable course of things, if he wrote at all, must have been hisown postman. But the Fates--(our Christianity can afford to wink now andthen at Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos; for, at any rate, they are asreasonable creatures as Chance, Luck, and Accident, )--the Fates willedit otherwise: and, accordingly, it is in my power to lay before thereader another genuine lucubration of Charles Tracy. 

A change had come over the spirit of their dream, those youthful lovers:and agonizing doubt must rack their hearts, threatening to rend themboth asunder. It is evident to me that Charles's letter (which Emilyshowed to me with a melancholy face) was on principle less warm, lessdottable with stars, and more conversant with things of this world;high, firm, honourable principle; intending very gently, very gradually, to wean her from him, if he could; for his faith in Jeanie Mackie hadbeen shaken, and--but let us hear him tell us of it all himself. 

 "I. E. M. Samarang. St. Helena. 

"You will wonder, my dear Emily, to hear again before you see me: but Iam glad of this providential opportunity, as it may serve to prepare usboth. Naturally enough you will ask, why Charles cannot accompany thisletter? I will tell you, dear, in one word--Mrs. Mackie is now lyingvery ill on shore; and, as far as our poor ship is concerned, you shallhear about it all anon. Several of the passengers, who were in a hurryto get home, have left us, and gone in the packet-boat that takes youthis letter: gladly, as you know, would I have accompanied them, for Ilong to see you, poor dear girl; but it was impossible to leave the oldwoman, upon whom alone, under God, our hopes of earthly happinessdepend: if, alas! we still can dream about such hopes. 

"Oh, Emily--I heartily wish that, having finished my embassage by thatinstantaneous finding of the old Scotch nurse, I had never been sosuperfluous as to have left those letters of introduction, wherewith youkindly supplied me, in an innocent wish to help our cause. But I feltsolitary too, waiting at Madras for the next ship to England; and in myfolly, forgetful of the single aim with which I had come, Jeanie Mackie, to wit, I thought I might as well use my present opportunities, and seewhat I could of the place and its inhabitants. 

"With that view, I left my letters at Government House, at Mr. Clarkson's, Colonel Bunting's, Mrs. Castleton's, and elsewhere, according to direction; and immediately found answer in a crowd ofinvitations. I need not vex you nor myself, Emmy, writing as I do with aheavy, heavy heart, by describing gayeties in which I felt no pleasure, even when amongst them, for my Emmy was not there: splendour, prodigality, and red-hot rooms, only made endurable by perpetuallyfanning punkahs: pompous counsellors, authorities, and other men inoffice, and a glut of military uniforms: vulgar wealth, transparentmatch-making, and predominating dullness: along with some few of thecharities and kindnesses of life (Mrs. Bunting, in particular, is anamiable, motherly, good-hearted woman), all these you will readily fancyfor yourself. 

"My trouble is deeper than any thing so slight as the common satiationsof _ennui_: for I have heard in these circles in which your--my--thegeneral, I mean, chiefly mixed, so much of that ill-rumour that itcannot all be false: they knew it all, and were certain of it all, toowell, Emily, dear. And I have been pestering Nurse Mackie night and day;but the old woman is so afraid of being left behind any where, or thrownoverboard, or dropped, upon some desert rock, that she is quite cross, and won't say a single word in answer, even when I tell her all theseterrible tales. Her resolution is, not to reveal one syllable more, until she sets foot on England; and several people at Madras annoyed meexceedingly by saying, that this kind of thing is an old trick withpeople who wish to be sent home again. She has hidden away her paperssomewhere; not that I was going to steal them: but it shows how littletrust she puts in any thing, or any one, except the keeping of her ownsecret. However, she does adhere obstinately, and hopefully for us, toher original hint, 'you are not what he thinks you;' although she willnot condescend to any single proof, or explanation, against the mightymass of evidence, which probabilities, and common rumour, and thegeneral's own belief, have heaped together. When I call you Emmy, too--the old soul, in her broad Scotch way, always corrects me, andinvokes a blessing upon 'A-amy:' so there is a mystery somewhere: atleast, I fervently hope there is: and, if the old woman has been playingus false, let us resign ourselves to God, my girl; for our fate will bethat matters are as people say they are--and then my old blackpostscript ends too truly with a wo, wo, wo--!

"But I must shake off all this lethargy of gloom, dearest, dearestgirl--how can I dare to call you so? Let me, therefore, rush for comfortinto other thoughts; and tell you at once of the fearful dangers we havenow mercifully escaped; for the Samarang lies like a log in thisfriendly port, dismasted, and next to a wreck. 

"I proceed to show you about it; perhaps I shall be tedious--but I do itas a little rest, my own soul's love, from anxious, earnest, heart-distracting prayers continually, continually, that the sorrowwhich I spoke of be not true. Sometimes, a light breaks in, and Irejoice in the most sanguine hope: at others, gloom--

"But a truce to all this, I say. Here shall follow didactically thecause why the good ship Samarang is not by this time in the Docks. 

"We were lying somewhere about the tropical belt, Capricorn you know, (O, those tender lessons in geography, my Emmy!) quite becalmed; the sealike glass, and the sky like brass, and the air in a most stagnant heat:our good ship motionless, dead in a dead blue sea it was

'Idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean. '

"The sails were hanging loosely in the shrouds: every one set, fromsky-scraper to stud-sail, in hopes to catch a breath of wind. Myfellow-passengers and the crew, almost melted, were lying about, as weakas parboiled eels: it was high-noon, all things silent and subdued bythat intolerable blaze; for the vertical sun, over our multipliedawnings and umbrellas, burnt us up, fierce as a furnace. 

"I was leaning over the gangway, looking wistfully at the cool, clear, deep sea, wherefrom the sailors were trying to persuade a shark to comeon board us, when, all at once, in the south-east quarter, I noticed alittle round black cloud, thrown up from the horizon like acricket-ball. As any thing is attractive in such sameness as perpetualsea and sky, my discovery was soon made known, and among the first toour captain. 

"Calling for his Dolland, and bidding his second lieutenant run quick tothe cabin and look at the barometer, he viewed the little cloud inevident anxiety, and shook his head with a solemn air: more than onelight-hearted woman thinking he was quizzing them. 

"Up came Lieutenant Joyce, looking as if he had seen a ghost in thecabin. 

"'The mercury, sir, is falling just as rapidly as it would rise if youplunged it into boiling water: an inch a minute or so!"

"Our captain saw the danger instantly, and, brave as Trueman is, I neversaw a man look paler. 

"To drive all the passengers below, and pen them in with closed hatchesand storm-shutters, (so hot, Emmy, that the black-hole of Calcutta musthave been an ice-house to it: how the foolish people abused our wiseskipper, and more than one pompous old Indian threatened him with anaction for false imprisonment!) this huddling away was the first effort;and simultaneously with it, the crew were all over the rigging, furlingsails, hurriedly, hurriedly. 

"Meanwhile (for I was last on deck), that little cloud seemed whirlingwithin itself, and many others gathered round it, all dancing about onthe horizon, as if sheaves of mischief tossed about by devils: I don'twish to be poetical, Emmy, for my heart is very, very sad; but if everthe powers of the air sow the wind and reap the whirlwind, they weregathering in their harvest at that door. Underneath the skipping clouds, which came on quickly, leaping over each other, as when the wain isloaded by a score of hands, I noticed a sea approaching, such as Pharaohmust have seen, when the wall of waters fell upon him; and premonitorywinds came whistling by, and two or three sails were flapping in themstill, and I was hurried down stairs after all the rest of us. 

"Then, on a sudden, it appeared not winds, nor waves, nor thunder, butas if the squadroned cavalry of heaven had charged across the seas, andcrushed our battered ship beneath their horse-hoofs! We were flung downflat on our beam ends; and the two or three unfurled sails, burstingwith the noise of a cannon, were scattered miles away to lee-ward as ifthey had been paper. As for the poor fellows in the rigging, the spiritof the storm had already made them his: twenty of our men were sweptaway by that tornado. 

"Then there was hewing and cleaving on deck, the clatter of many axesand hatchets: for we were in imminent danger of being capsized, keeluppermost, and our only chance was to cut away the masts. 

"The muscles of courage were tried then, my Emmy, and the strength whichreligion gives a man. I felt sensibly held up by the Everlasting Arms: Icould listen to the still small Voice in the midst of a crash whichmight have been the end of all things: though in darkness, God had givenme light; though in uttermost peril, my peace was never calmer in ourlittle village school. 

"And the billows were knocking at the poor ship's side like sledgehammers; and the lightnings fell around us scorchingly, with forkedbolts, as arrows from the hand of a giant; the thunders overhead, closeoverhead, crashing from a concave cloud that hung about us heavily--adense, black, suffocating curtain--roared and raved as nothing earthlycan, but thunder in the tropics; the rain was as a cataract, literallyrushing in a mass: the winds appeared not winds, nor whirlwinds, butlegions of emancipated demons shrieking horribly, and flapping theirwide wings; a flock of night-birds flying from the dawn; and all elsewas darkness, confusion, rolling and rocking about, the screams ofwomen, the shouts of men, curses and prayers, agony, despair, and--peace, deep peace. 

"On a sudden, to our great astonishment, all was silent again, oppressively silent; and, but for the swell upon the seas, all still. The tornado had rushed by: that troop of Tartar horse, having sacked thevillage, are departed, now in full retreat: the blackness and the furyare beheld on our lee, hastening across the broad Atlantic to Cuba orJamaica: and behold, a tranquil temperate sky, a kindly rolling sea, afavouring breeze, and--not a sail, but some slight jury-rig, to catchit. 

"Many days we drifted like a log upon the wave; provisions runningshort, and water--water under tropical suns--scantily dealt out intea-cups. Then, poor old Mackie's health gave way; and I dreaded for herdeath: one living witness is worth a cart-load of cold documents. So Inursed and watched her constantly: till the foolish folks on board beganto say I was her son: ah! me, for your sake I wish it had been so. 

"And at length, just as some among the sailors were hinting at a mutinyfor spirits, and our last case of Gamble's meat was opened for the sick, our look-out on the jury-mast gave the welcome note of 'Land!' and soon, to us on deck, the heights of St. Helena rose above the sea. Towed in byfriendly aid, here we are, then, precious Emily, refitting: and, as itmust be a week yet before we can be ready, I have taken my old woman toa lodging upon land, and rejoice (what have I to do with joy?) to seeher speedily recovering. "

The remainder of Charles's long letter is so stupid, so gloomy, soloving, and so little to the purpose, that I take an editor's privilege, and omit it altogether. Of course he was coming home again, as soon asthe Samarang and Jeanie Mackie would permit. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

TRIALS. 

THE general recovered; as slowly, indeed, as Emily had, but it isgratifying to add, as surely. And now that loving couple might be seen, weakly creeping out together, when the day was finest: tottering whiteDecember leaning on a sickly fragile May. There were no concealments nowbetween them, no reservings, and heart-stricken Emily heard from herrepentant father's lips the story of her birth: she was, he said, hisown daughter by a native princess, the Begum Dowlia Burruckjutli. 

A bitter--bitter truth was that: the destruction of all her hopes, pleasures, and affections. It had now become to her a sin to love thatdearest one of all things lovely on this earth: duty, paramount andstern, commanded her, without a shadow of reprieve, to execute onherself immediately the terrible sentence of banishing her ownbetrothed: nay, more, she must forget him, erase his precious image fromher heart, and never, never see that brother more. And Charles must feelthe same, and do the like; oh! sorrow, passing words! and their twocommingled souls must be violently wrenched apart; for such love in themwere crime. 

Dear children of affection--it is a dreadful lesson this for both ofyou; but most wise, most needful--or the hand that guideth all things, never would have sent it. Know ye not for comfort, that ye are of thoseto whom all things work together for good? Know ye not for counsel, thatthe excess of love is an idolatry that must be blighted? It is well, children, it is well, that ye should thus carry your wounded hearts forbalm to the altar of God; it is well that ye should bow in meekness toHis will, in readiness to His wisdom. Ye are learning the lessonspeedily, as docile children should; and be assured of high reward fromthe Teacher who hath set it you. Poor Charles! white and wan, thy cheekis grown transparent with anxiety, and thy blue eye dim with hopedeferred: poor Emmy, sick and weak, thou weariest Heaven with thyprayers, and waterest thy couch with thy tears. Yet, a little while;this discipline is good: storm and wind, frost and rushing rains, are asneedful to the forest-tree as sun and gentle shower; the root isstrengthening, and its fibres spreading out: and loving still each otherwith the best of human love, ye justly now have found out how to anchorall your strongest hopes, and deepest thoughts, on Him who made you forhimself. Who knoweth? wisely acquiescing in His will, humbly trusting toHis mercy, and bringing the holocaust of your inflamed affections as anoffering of duty to your God--who knoweth? Cannot He interpose? will Henot befriend you? For His arm is power, and His heart is love. 

Days rolled on in dull monotony, and grew to weeks more slowly thanbefore; earthly hopes had been levelled with the dust; life hadforgotten to be joyous: there was, indeed, the calm, the peace, theresignation, the heavenly ante-past, and the soul-entrancing prayer; buthuman life to Emily was flat, wearisome, and void; she felt like a nun, immolated as to this world: even as Charles, too, had resolved to be ananchorite, a stern, hard, mortified man, who once had feelings andaffections. The rëaction in both those fond young hearts had evenoverstept the golden mean: and Mercy interposed to make all right, andto bless them in each other once again. 

Only look at this _billet-doux_ from Charles, just come in, and datedPlymouth:

"Huzzah--for Emily and England: huzzah for the land of freedom! nosecrets now--dear, dear old Jeanie Mackie has given me proofs positive:all I have to wish is that she could move: but she is very ill; so, aswe touched here on the voyage up channel, I landed her and myself, thinking to kiss, within a day, my darling Emmy. But I cannot get herout of bed this morning, and dare not leave her: though an hour's delayseems almost insupportable. If I possibly can manage it, I will bringthe dear old faithful creature, wrapped in blankets, by chaiseto-morrow. Tell my father all this: and say to him--he will understand, perhaps, though you may not, my blessed girl--say to him, that 'he ismistaken, and all are mistaken--you are not what they think you. ' Athousand kisses. Expect, then, on bright to-morrow to see your happy, happy "CHARLES. "

"P. S. Hip! hip! hip!--huzzah!"

Dearest Emily had taken up the note with fears and trembling: she laidit down, as they that reap in joy; and I never in my life saw any thingso beautiful as her eyes at that glad minute; the smile through thetear, the light through the gloom, the verdure of high summer springingthrough the Alpine snows, the mild and lustrous moon emerging from abaffled thunder-cloud. 

And, although the general mournfully shook his head, distrustfully anddespondingly; though he only uttered, "Poor children--dearchildren--would to Heaven that it could be so;"--and he, for one, wasevidently innoculated, as before, with all the old thoughts of gloom, sadness, and anxiety;--still Emily hoped--for Charles hoped--and JeanieMackie was so certain. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

JULIAN. 

NEXT day, a fine summer afternoon, when our feeble convalescents hadgone out together, they found the fresh air so invigorating, andthemselves so much stronger, that they prolonged their walk half-way toOxton. The pasture-meadows, rich and rank, were alive with flocks andherds; the blue sea lazily beat time, as, ticking out the seconds, itmelodiously broke upon the sleeping shore; the darkly-flowing Mulletswept sounding to the sea between its tortuous banks; and upon that oldhigh foot-path skirting the stream, now shady with hazels, and nowflowery with meadow-sweet, crept our chastened pair. 

Just as they were nearing a short angle in the river, the spot whereCharles had been preserved, they noticed for the first time arough-looking fisherman, who, unseen, had tracked their steps somehundred yards; he had a tarpaulin over his shoulder, very unnecessarily, as it would seem, on so fine and warm a day; and a slouchingsou'-wester, worn askew, flapped across the strange man's face. 

He came on quickly, though cautiously, looking right and left; and Emilytrembled on her guardian's feeble arm. Yes--she is right; the fishermanapproaches--she detects him through it all: and now he scorns disguise;flinging off his cap and the tarpaulin, stands before them--Julian!

"So, sir--you tremble now, do you, gallant general: give me the girl. "And he levelled at his father one of those double-barrelled pistols, full-cock. 

"Julian, my son, I forgive you, Julian; take my hand, boy. "

"What--coward? now you can cringe, and fawn, eh? back with you!--thegirl, I say. " For poor Emily, wild with fear, was clinging to that weakold man. 

Julian levelled again; indeed, indeed it was only as a threat;but his hand shook with passion--the weapon was full-cock, hair-triggered--shotted heavily as always--hark, hark!--And his fatherfell upon the turf, covered with blood!

When a wicked man tampers with unintended crime, even accident falls outagainst him. Many a one has richly merited death for many other sins, than that isolated, haply accidental one which he has hanged for. 

Julian, horror-stricken, pale and trembling, flew instinctively to helphis father: but Emily has circled him already with her arms; and listen, Julian--your dying father speaks to you. 

"Boy, I forgive--I forgive: but--Emily, no, no, cannot, cannotbe--Julian--she--she is your _sister_!" and the old man swooned away, from loss of blood and the excitement of that awful scene. 

Not a word in reply said that poor sinner, maddened with his life-longcrimes, the fratricide in will, the parricide in deed, and all for--asister. But growing whiter as he stood, a marble man with bristlinghair, he slowly drew the other pistol from his pocket, put the muzzle tohis mouth, and, firing as he fell, leapt into the darkly-flowing Mullet!

The current, all too violent to sink in, and uncommissioned now tosave, hurried its black burden to the sea; and a crimson streak of goremarked the track of the suicide. 

The old man was not dead; but a brace of bullets taking effect upon hisfeeble frame--one through the shoulder, and another which had grazed hishead--had been quite enough to make him seem so. Forgetful of all butthat dear sufferer, and totally ignorant of Julian's fate--for sheneither saw nor heard any thing, nor feared even for her own imminentperil, while her father lay dying on the grass--Emily had torn off herscarf, and bound up, as well as she could, the ghastly scored head andbroken shoulder. She succeeded in staunching the blood--for no greatvessel had been severed--and so simple an application as grass dipped inwater, proved to be a good specific. Then, to her exceeding joy, thoseeyes opened again, and that dear tongue faintly whispered--"Bless you. "

Oh, that blessing! for it fell upon her heart: and fervently she kneltdown there, and thanked the Great Preserver. 

And now, for friendly help; there is no one near: and it is growingdusk; and she dared not leave him there alone one minute--forJulian--dreaded Julian, may return, and kill him. What shall she do? Howto get him home? Alas, alas! he may die where he is lying. 

Hark, Emmy, hark! The shouts of happy children bursting out of school!See, dearest--see: here they come homewards merrily from Oxton. 

Thus, rewarded through the instrumentality of her own benevolence, helpwas speedily obtained; and Mrs. Sainsbury's invalid-chair, hurried tothe spot by an escort of indignant rustics, soon conveyed the recoveringpatient to the comforts of his own home, and the appliances of medicalassistance. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

CHARLES'S RETURN; AND MRS. MACKIE'S EXPLANATION. 

AND now the happy day was come at length; that day formerly sohoped-for, latterly so feared, but last of all, hailed with the joy thattrembles at its own intensity. The very morning after the sad occurrenceit has just been my lot to chronicle--while the general was having hiswounds dressed, slight ones, happily, but still he was not safe, asinflammation might ensue--while Mrs. Tracy was indulging in her thirdtumbler, mixed to whet her appetite for shrimps--and while Emily wasdeciphering, for the forty thousandth time, Charles's sanguine_billet-doux_--lo! a dusty chaise and smoking posters, and a sun-burntyoung fellow springing out, and just upon the stairs--they were lockedin each other's arms!

Oh, the rapture of that instant! it can but happen once within a life. Ye that have loved, remember such a meeting; and ye that never loved, conceive it if you can; for my pen hath little skill to paint so brighta pleasure. It is to be all heart, all pulse, all sympathy, allspirit--but the warm soft kiss, that rarified bloom of the Material. 

How the sick old nurse got out, cased in many blankets; how she wasbundled up stairs, and deposited safely on a sofa, no poet is alive tosing: to those who would record the payment of postillions, let me leaveso sweet a theme. 

The first fond greeting over, and those tumults of affection sobereddown, Charles rejoiced to find how lovingly the general met him; thekind and good old man fell upon his neck, as the father in the parable. Many things were then to be made known: and many questions answered, asbest might be, about a mother and a brother; but well aware of allthings ourselves, let us be satisfied that Charles heard in due time allthey had to tell him; though neither Emily nor the general could explainwhat had become of Julian after that terrible encounter. In theirbelief, he had fled for very life, thinking he had killed his father. Poor wretched man, thought Charles--on that same spot, too, where hewould have murdered me! And for his mother--why came she not downeagerly and happily, as mothers ever do, to greet her long-lost son? Donot ask, Charles; do not press the question. Think her ill, dying, dead--any thing but--drunken. He ran to her room-door; but it waslocked--luckily. 

Now, Charles--now speedily to business; happy business that, if I maytrust the lover's flushing cheek, and Emily's radiant eyes; but amournful one too, and a fearful, if I turn my glance to that poor oldman, wounded in body and stricken in mind--who waits to hear, in moredespondency than hope, what he knows to be the bitter truth--the truththat must be told, to the misery of those dear children. 

Faint and weak though she appeared, Jeanie Mackie's waning lifespirited up for the occasion; her dim eye kindled; her feeble frame wasstraight and strong; energy nerved her as she spoke; this hour is theerrand of her being. 

Long she spoke, and loudly, in her broad Scotch way; and the generalobjected many things, but was answered to them all; and there was closecross-questioning, slow-caution, keen examination of documents andletters: catechisms, solecisms, Scottisms; reminiscences rubbed up, mistakes corrected; and the grand result of all, Emily a Stuart, and thegeneral not her father! I am only enabled to give a brief account ofthat important colloquy. 

It appears, that when Captain Tracy's company was quartered to the westof the Gwalior, sent thither to guard the Begum Dowlia against sundry ofher disaffected subjects, a certain Lieutenant James Stuart was oneamong those welcome brave allies. That our gallant Tracy was thebeautiful Begum's favourite soon became notorious to all; and not lessso, that the Begum herself was precisely in the same interestingsituation as Mrs. James Stuart. The two ladies, Pagan and Christian, were, technically speaking, running a race together. Well, just as timesdrew nigh, poor Lieutenant Stuart was unfortunately killed in aninsurrection headed by some fanatics, who disapproved of foreignfriends, and perhaps of their princess's situation. His death provedfatal also to that kind and faithful wife of his--a dark Italian lady ofhigh family, whose love for James had led her to follow him even intoCentral Hindoostan: she died in giving birth to a babe; and JeanieMackie, the lieutenant's own foster-mother, who waited on his wifethrough all their travels, assisted the poor orphan into this bleakworld, and loved it as her own. 

Two days after all this, the Begum herself had need of Mrs. Mackie: forit was prudent to conceal some things, if she could, from certainBrahmins, who were to her what John Knox had erstwhile been to Mary: andJeanie Mackie, burdened with her little Amy Stuart, aided in the birthof a female Tracy-Begum. So, the nurse tended both babes; and more thanonce had marvelled at their general resemblance; Amy's mother looked outagain from those dark eyes; there was not a shade between the children. 

Now, Mrs. Mackie perceived, in a very little while, how fond bothChristian and Pagan appeared of their own child; and how little noticewas taken by any body of the poor Scotch gentleman's orphan. Accordingly, with a view to give her favourite all worldly advantages, she adroitly changed the children; and, while she was still kind andmotherly to the little Tracy-Begum, she had the satisfaction to see herpet supposititiously brought up in all the splendours of an Easterncourt. 

Years wore away, for Captain Tracy was quite happy, the Begum being afine showy woman, and the pretty child his playmate and pastime: so henever cared to stir from his rich quarters, till the company's ordersforced him: and then Puttymuddyfudgepoor hailed him accumulatively bothmajor and colonel. 

When he found that he must go, he insisted on carrying off the child;and the Begum was as resolute against it. Then Mrs. Mackie, eager toexpedite little Stuart in her escape, went to the princess, told her howthat, in anticipation of this day, she had changed the children, and gotgreat rewards for thus restoring to the mother her own offspring. 

The remainder of that old Scotch nurse's very prosy tale may be left tobe imagined: for all that was essential has been stated: and thedocuments in proof of all were these--

First: The marriage certificates of James Stuart and Ami di Romagna, duly attested, both in the Protestant and Romanist forms. 

Secondly: Divers letters to Lieutenant Stewart from his friends atGlenmuir; others to Mrs. Stuart, from her father, the old Marquis diRomagna, at Naples: several trinkets, locks of hair, the wedding-ring, &c. 

Thirdly: A grant written in the Hindoostanee character, from the BegumDowlia, promising the pension of thirty rupees a month to Jeanie Mackie, for having so cleverly preserved to her the child: together with aregular judicial acknowledgement, both from several of Tracy's ownsepoys, and from the Begum herself, that the girl, whom Captain Tracywas so fond of, was, to the best of their belief, Amy Stuart. 

Fourthly: A miniature of Mrs. James Stuart, exactly portraying thefeatures of her daughter--this bright, beautiful, dark-eyed face--ourown beloved Emily Warren. 

And to all that accumulated evidence, Jeanie Mackie bore her livingtestimony; clearly, unhesitatingly, and well assured, in the face of Godand man. 

Doubt was at an end; fear was at an end; hope was come, and joy. Happywere the lovers, happy Jeanie Mackie, but happiest of all appeared thegeneral himself. For now she might be his daughter indeed, sweet EmmyTracy still, dear Charles's loving wife. And he blessed them as theyknelt, and gave them to each other; well-rewarded children of affection, who had prayed in their distress!

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

JULIAN TURNS UP: AND THERE'S AN END OF MRS. TRACY. 

THERE is a muddy sort of sand-bank, acting as a delta to the Mullet, just where it spreads from deep to shallow, and falls into the sea. Strange wild fowl abound there, coming from the upper clouds in flocks;and at high water, very little else but rushes can be seen, to testifyits sub-marine existence. 

A knot of fishermen, idling on the beach, have noticed an uncommonflight of Royston crows gathered at the island, with the object, as itwould appear, of battening on a dead porpoise, or some such body, justdiscernible among the rushes. Stop--that black heap may be kegs ofwhiskey;--where's the glass?

Every one looked: it warn't barrels--and it warn't a porpoise: what wasit, then? they had universally nothing on earth to do, so they pushedoff in company to see. 

I watched the party off, and they poked among the rushes, and heaved outwhat seemed to me a seal: so I ran down to the beach to look at thestrange creature they had captured. Something wrapped in a sail; nodoubt for exhibition at per head. 

But they brought out that black burden solemnly, laying it on the beachat Burleigh: a crowd quickly collected round them, that I could not seethe creature: and some ran for a magistrate, and some for a parson. Thenmen in office came--made a way through the crowd, and I got near: sonear, that my foolish curiosity lifted up the sail, and I beheld--whathad been Julian. 

O, sickening sight: for all which the pistol had spared of that swartand hairy face, had been preyed upon by birds and fishes!

There was a hurried inquest: the poor general and Emily deposed to whatthey knew, and the rustics, who escorted him from Oxton. The verdictcould be only one--self-murder. 

So, by night, on that same swampy island, when the tide was low, theyburied him, deeply staked into the soil, lest the waves should disinterhim, without a parting prayer. Such is the end of the wicked. 

In a day or two, I noticed that a rude wooden cross had been set overthe spot: and it gratified me much to hear that a rough-looking crew ofsmugglers had boldly come and fixed it there, to hallow, if they could, a comrade's grave. 

However, these poor fellows had been cheated hours before: Charles'sbrotherly care had secured the poor remains, and the vicar winked ablind permission: so Charles buried them by night in the church-yardcorner, under the yew, reading many prayers above them. 

Two fierce-looking strange men went to that burial with reverent looks, as it were chief mourners; and when all the rites were done, I heardthem gruffly say to Charles, "God bless you, sir, for this!"

When the mother heard those tidings of her son, she was sobered on theinstant, and ran about the house with all a mother's grief, shriekinglike a mad woman. But all her shrieks and tears could not bring backpoor Julian; deep, deep in the silent grave, she cannot wake him--cannotkiss him now. Ah well! ah well!

Then did she return to his dear room, desperate for him--and Hollandsonce, twice, thrice, she poured out a full tumbler of the burning fluid, and drank it off like water; and it maddened her brain: her mind was ina phrensy of delirium, while her body shook as with a palsy. 

Let us draw the curtain; for she died that night. 

They buried her in Aunt Green's grave: what a meeting theirs will be atthe day of resurrection!

CHAPTER XXIX. 

THE OLD SCOTCH NURSE GOES HOME. 

SIX months at least--this is clearly not a story of the unities--sixmonths' interval must now elapse before the wedding-day. Charles andEmmy--for he called her Emmy still, though Jeanie Mackie would persistin mouthing it to "Aamy, "--wished to have it delayed a year, in respectfor the memory of those who, with all their crime and folly, were notthe less a mother and a brother: but the general would not hear of sucha thing; he was growing very old, he said; although actually he seemedto have taken out a new lease of life, so young again and buoyant wasthe new-found heart within him; and thus growing old, he was full offatherly fear that he should not live to see his children's happiness. It was only reasonable and proper that our pair of cooing doves shouldacquiesce in his desire. 

Meanwhile, I am truly sorry to say it, Jeanie Mackie died; for it wouldhave been a good novel-like incident to have suffered the faithful oldcreature to have witnessed her favourite's wedding, and then to havebeen forthwith killed out of the way, by--perishing in the vestry. However, things were ordered otherwise, and Jeanie Mackie did not liveto see the wedding: if you wish to know how and where she died, let metell you at once. 

Scotland--Argyleshire--Glenmuir; this was the focus of her hopes andthoughts--that poor old Indian exile! She had left it, as a buxombright-haired lassie: but oaks had now grown old that she had plantedacorns; and grandmothers had died palsied, whom she remembered born;still, around the mountains and the lakes, those changeless features ofher girlhood's rugged home, the old woman's memory wandered; they werepictured in her mind's eye hard, and clear, and definite as if shelooked upon them now. And her soul's deep hope was to see them onceagain. 

There was yet another object which made her yearn for Scotland. Lieutenant Stuart had been the younger of two brothers, the eldest bornof whom became, upon his father's, the old laird's, death, Glenmuir andGlenmurdock. Now, though twice married, this elder brother, the newlaird, never had a child; and the clear consequence was, that Amy Stuartwas likely to become sole heiress of her ancestor's possessions. Thelieutenant's marriage with an Italian and a Romanist had been, doubtless, any thing but pleasant to his friends; the strict oldPresbyterians, and the proud unsullied family of Stuart, could notpalate it at all. Nevertheless, he did marry the girl, according to therites of both churches, and there was an end of it; so, innumerableproverbs coming to their aid about "curing and enduring" and "mustbe's, " and the place where "marriages are made, " &c. , the several auntsand cousins were persuaded at length to wink at the iniquity, and tocorrespond both with Mrs. James and her backsliding lieutenant. Of theoffspring of that marriage, and her orphaned state, and of Mrs. Mackie'scare, and the indefinite detention in central Hindostan, they had heardoften-times; for, as there is no corner of the world where a Scot maynot be met with, so, with laudable nationality, they all hang together;and Glenmuir was written to frequently, all about the child, throughJeanie Mackie, "her mark, " and a scholarly sergeant, Duncan Blair. 

Amy's rights--or Emmy let us call her still, as Charles did--were now, therefore, the next object of Mrs. Mackie's zeal; and all partiesinterested willingly listened to the plan of spending one or two ofthose weary weeks in rubbing up relationships in Scotland; the generalalso was not a little anxious about heritage and acres. Accordingly, offthey set in the new travelling-carriage, with due notice of approach, heartily welcomed, to Dunstowr Castle, the fine old feudal stronghold ofRobert Stuart, Laird of Glenmuir and Glenmurdock. 

The journey, the arrival, and the hearty hospitality; and how the grayold chieftain kissed his pretty niece; and how welcome her betrothedCharles and her kind life-long guardian, and her faithful nurse weremade; and how the beacons blazed upon the hill-tops, and the musteringclan gathered round about old Dunstowr; and how the laird presented tothem all their beautiful future mistress, and how Jeanie Mackie and herdocuments travelled up to Edinburgh, where writers to the signetpestered her heart-sick with over-caution; and how the case was allcleared up, and the distant disappointed cousin, who had irrationallyhoped to be the heir, was gladdened, if not satisfied, with a pensionand a cantle of Glenmuir; and how all was joyfulness and feasting, whenAmy Stuart was acknowledged in her rights--the bagpipes and the wassail, salmon, and deer, and black-cock, with a river of mountain dew: letothers tell who know Dunstowr; for as I never was there, of course Icannot faithfully describe it. Should such an historian as I condescendto sheer inventions?

With respect to Jeanie Mackie, I could learn no more than this: she wassprightly and lively, and strong as ever, though in her ninetieth year, till her foster-child was righted, and the lawyers had allowed her herclaim. But then there seemed nothing else to live for; so her lifegradually faded from her eye, as an expiring candle; and she would dozeby the hour, sitting on a settle in the sun, basking her old heart inthe smile of those old mountains. None knew when she died, to a minute;for she died sitting in the sun, in the smile of those old mountains. 

They buried her, with much of rustic pomp, in the hill-church ofGlenmuir, where all her fathers slept around her; and Emily and Charles, hand-in-hand, walked behind her coffin mournfully. 

CHAPTER XXX. 

FINAL. 

GLADLY would the laird have had marriage at Dunstower, and have givenaway the beauteous bride himself: but there must still be two monthsmore of decent mourning, and the general had long learned to sigh forthe maligned delights of Burleigh Singleton. So, Glenmuir could only geta promise of reappearance some fine summer or other: and, after anotherday's deer-stalking, which made the general repudiate telescopes fromthat day forth (the poor man's eyes had actually grown lobster-like withstraining after antlers)--the travelling-carriage, and four lean kinefrom Inverary, whisked away the trio towards the South. 

And now, in due time, were the Tamworths full of joy--congratulating, sympathizing, merrymaking; and the three young ladies behaved admirablyin the capacity of pink and silver bridesmaids; while George provedequally kind in attending (as he called it) Charles's "execution, "wherein he was "turned off;" and the admiral, G. C. B. Was sohand-in-glove with the general, H. E. I. C. S. , that I have reason tobelieve they must have sworn eternal friendship, after the manner of themodern Germans. 

How beautiful our Emmy looked--I hate the broad Scotch Aamy--how brighther flashing eyes, and how fragrantly the orange-blossoms clustered inher rich brown hair; let him speak lengthily, whose province it may beto spin three volumes out of one: for me, I always wish to recollectthat readers possess, on the average, at least as much imagination aswriters. And why should you not exercise it now? Is not Emmy in herbridal-dress a theme well worth a revery?

For a similar reason, I must clearly disappoint feminine expectation, byforbearing to descant upon Charles's slight but manly form, and hisGrecian beauty, &c. , all the better for the tropics, and the trials andthe troubles he had passed. 

When Captain Forbes, just sitting down to his soup in the JamaicaCoffee-house, read in the _Morning Post_, the marriage of Charles Tracywith Amy Stuart, he delivered himself mentally as follows:

"There now! Poets talk of 'love, ' and I stick to 'human nature. ' Whenthat fine young fellow sailed with me, hardly a year ago, in the SirWilliam Elphinston, he was over head and heels in love with old JackTracy's pretty girl, Emily Warren: but I knew it wouldn't last long: Idon't believe in constancy for longer than a week. It does one's heartgood to see how right one is; here's what I call proof. My sentimentalspark kisses Emily Warren, and marries Amy Stuart. " The captain, happierthan before, called complacently for Cayenne pepper, and relished hismock-turtle with a higher gusto. 

It is worth recording, that the same change of name mystified slanderousfriends in the Presidency of Madras. 

And now, kind-eyed reader, this story of '_The Twins_' must leave offabruptly at the wedding. As in its companion-tale, '_The Crock ofGold_, ' one grand thesis for our thoughts was that holy wise command, "Thou shall not covet, " and as its other comrade '_Heart_' is founded on"Thou shalt not bear false witness, " so in this, the seed-corn of thecrop, were five pure words, "Thou shalt not commit adultery. " Othermorals doubtless grew up round us, for all virtue hangs together in abunch: the harms of secresy, false witness, inordinate affections, andred murder: but in chief, as we have said. 

Moreover, I wish distinctly to make known, for dear "domestic" sake, that so far from our lovers' happiness having been consummated (that is, finished) in the honey-moon--it was only then begun. How long they areto live thus happily together, Heaven, who wills all things good, alonecan tell; I wish them three score years. Little ones, I hear, arriveannually--to the unqualified joy, not merely of papa and mamma, but alsoof our communicative old general, his friend the G. C. B. , and (all butmost of any) the Laird of Glenmuir and Glenmurdock, whose heart has beenentirely rejoiced by Charles Tracy having added to his name, and to hischildren's names, that of Stuart. 

Mr. And Mrs. Tracy Stuart are often at Glenmuir; but oftener atBurleigh, where the general, I fancy, still resides. He protests that henever will keep a secret again: long may he live to say so!

 END OF THE TWINS.