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BENTLEY'S
MISCELLANY.
VOL. XXYIILi
* • . •
LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 1850.
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^
• • •• •
LONDON:
Printed by Samobl Bbhtlbt and Co.,
Bangor Hotue, Shoe Lane.
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CONTENTS.
The Ladder of Gold. An English Story, by Robert Bell, Author of " Wayside Pictures," &c
r III. Very short, bat very Important to the People concerned in It, -Chapter IV. In which the Green Willow shows Symptoms of turning Yellow. : VI.— Chapter I. The Beginning of the End.— Chapter II. The Lover and the
Book IV. — Chapter V. In which the Odds are against the Favourite.— Chapter VI. The Sisters. — Chapter VII. In which we meet an old Acquaintance unexpectedly.— Chapter VIII. Which dimly shadows forth the Beginning of the End,
Book V. — Chapter I. The Panic. — Chapter II. The Knights of Whiteoross. — Chapter III. Very short, bat very Important to the People concerned in It, 111
Book V.— Chapter I w . . . .. ~ «... * -.._..._.. -..««_
—Book VI. ~*
Husband, Book VI. — Chapter III. Containing confidential Disclosures. — Chapter IV. Full of
bellicose Matter —Chapter V. Explanations.— Chapter VI. Chalk Farm, . . M7
Book VI.— Chapter VII. The Death-bed Secret.— Chapter VIII. The Return after the
Duel. ......... 461
Book VI.— Chapter IX.— The Duello seen from different Points of 8ight . 629
A Peep at Teneriffe, by the Author of " A Cruise in a Slaver/' . 33
The Bacchante of Bertolini, .... 41
42
By W. H. Maxwell, . 149
253
By the Author of " E*-*| 48
periences of a Gaolv
Chaplain," J 137
£jjC Alfred Crpjrtjuill, J® -101,186,430
Inconveniences of a " Suspicion of Debt,
The Two Funerals,
John Campbell, the Homicide,
A Public Vay at Bishopthorpe
The Female Wrecker; and The House of
Mystery. A Brace of Ghost 8tories, „ B ^
A Dignity Ball in the Seychelles, . . . .66
Egypt and the Holy Land, ...... 64
The Roman, ........ 65
Some Account of Abraham Newland, .... 67
Inedited Letters of Celebrated Persoi^—Mrs. Pioaszi; ,
' ; ^ ?* 163^.307, 43ft £&, 620 Our Pen and Ink Gallery — F. M. the Date}. t* of Wellington,
Lord Brougham, . Amusements of the People, Banks and Bankers, . . *:.:*•/.•• *• *"-\ *• 8*
A Tight Race Considering . . ^ : '•"• :'* ;-' : *- • ' i 8tf
Getting Acquainted .with the ^Medicines, . The' £ife0f a Louisiana 2U Taking good Advice — A Camp-Meeting
in America, A Rattlesnake on a Steamboat, Eton College arid its Celebrities, ..... 92
/ " La Tempesta."— A Glance at the Opera, . . . .94
Sketch of M. Thiers, by Chateaubriand, .... 98
Literature of the Month:
Aubrey de Vere'i Picturesque Sketch©* of Gr©ec© and Turkey.— 8lr Arthur BouYerie.— Hyltott House.— Curlluafs Account of th© Ancient Corp© of Ocntlemeu-at-Arina.— MocchxUker's Gold© to Gorman Literature, • . .108
Hart's Secretary.— Mrs. BeU Martin's Julia Howard. — Yad Namuh; a Chapter of Oriental Life.— Low's Cbaritfet of London.— Raid's Rifle Rangers, . 118
GuiQaume's Guide to German Literature. — Gardner's Trarels in the Interior of BraalL— Affinities of Foreigners.— The Devil in Turkey.— Norah Dalryrople. — 8irr*s Ceylon and the Cingalese.— Beyer's Modern Housewife, .... 561
Forty Years' Recollections of a London Actor. By A. V. Campbell, 156
The Queens of Spain, ..... 162
The Fast and Present State of France, .172
Correspondence of the Emperor Charles V. . 180
Prince Talleyrand. From a Sketch by Chateaubriand, . .182
Personal Narratives of the Hungarian War, . 194
The American Seasons, by Alfred B. Street, . . . .201
"Swamp Doctor," | 26J> 623
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289
By Charles Lanman, 408
515
596
IV CONTENTS.
PAGE
The Siege of Venice, ...... 209
The Argosy of Life, from the German of Eichendorff, 252
The Battle of Novara, a Tale, by the Baroness Blaze de Bury, 260^ The Snakes and Serpent Charmers at the Zoological!
Gardens, V By W. Cooper, 274.
Lions.— No. I. Zoological Notes and Anecdotes, J . .481
Whitebait, 283
Alison's Fallacies about the Fall of Rome, .... 284 The Tourist in the United States;— The Sugar ^
Camp— Accomac, Salmon Fishing in the United States, Trout Fishing in the United States, Rock Creek, ....
Young England's Onslaught on Young Italy, . . . 298
Our Pilgrim-Land, from the German of Herwegh, . . 306
The Hunter's Life, . . . • . 316 Eight Days of a Royal Exile, by Adolphe d'Houdetdt, translated by
Leon Besson, ....... 320
Memoirs of Robert Plumer Ward, .... 333
Lablache, and Her Majesty's Theatre, . . . .337
Books for the Country, ...... 339
A Glance at a few Recent Novels, ..... 342
The Parks of Merrie England. A true Tale. With a Moral by a
Landlord, ....... 379
Emma, the Sailor Girl, by Mrs. Ward, . .384
The Varieties of Man, ...... 393
Louis Kossuth and his Family, .... 396
Ebenezer Elliott, the Corn- Law Rhymer, . . . 416 Madrilenia ; or, Spanish Life in 1850, by H. Drummond Wolff, 418, 527
The Proper Food of Man, 428
A Run on the Eastern Counties Railway, with the Secret History
of the Recent Strike, ..... 448
The Roadside Ino, by.G. Linami* Banks, .... 459
A 8keteb^the*»Sit£eb£tfookan,:by John James Cole, . »449 The Massacre -of a Convent* of Nuns at Paris, at the time of the
Revolution, *i. • •:• • • *80
Sacred Stanza^La$iiie:^d<>d*ha, ..... 492 The Defeat bf* tta «Sbanhh Armada. The Decisive Battles of the
WoHtf.-^Nd. \JIir : By Professor Creasy, . .493
The PrinceVotZoolopV-ltf^briham *Mer, Author of " The Lucky
Grocer,*' * . # *. 501
The Land of My Fathers, . . .511
The Pilgrim in India, ...... 520
The Table of the Inn, by G Pfitxer, . . . .526
King Louis Philippe and his Civil List, by the Count de Mon tali vet, 544, 601
A Chartist Novel, ....... 560
A Gossip about Merry Christmas, by Robert Bell, . 567
The Oath, by Mrs Buxton Whalley .... 581
A Visit to Sterburgh Castle, ...... 587
Farewell, Old Year, by G. Linnaeus Banks, . 595
Old Christmas, ....... 600
Bags of Destiny, a Fable, . . . 614
An Adventure in Lebanon, by Lieut, the Hon. Frederick Walpole, . 615
Frederick the Great and Seven Years' War, . . . 636 A Trip from Bavonne across the French Frontier to Fueuterrabia,
by Lieut. "G. H.March, . . . . .640
The Present Naval and Military Power of England, . . 653
The History and Mystery of the Glass House, • . . 659
The Sicilian Vespers, ...... 675
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• •
%• •
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BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY.
AUTHOR OF
9n ffittflUai) Storp,
BY ROBERT BELL,
; WAYSIDE PICTURES THROUGH FRANCE, AMD HOLLAND."
BELGIUM,
BOOK THE FOURTH.
CHAPTER V.
In which the odds are against the favourite.
There was an interval of three clear days between the date of Henry Winston's letter to Margaret and the morning proposed for the elopement Throughout the whole of that interval, which seemed to him a century at least, be expected hourly to obtain some tidings from Clara ; but he watched and waited in vain. In this tumultuous condition he fancied a hundred things, each new fancy driving out its predecessor as fast as his brains could fabricate one wild supposition after another. To say that he neither eat nor drank, nor slept, nor sat still, nor performed any intelligible act for two consecutive minutes, would be a very inadequate way of conveying a notion of the bewildered state of his faculties. The fact was, he had utterly lost his balance, and, considering the desperate thoughts that at times took possession of him, and the violent measures of relief he meditated from hour to hour, it was wonderful that be carried himself safely up to the morning when, considerably before the appointed time, he made his appearance at Hanover Gate in a travelling-carriage, looking frightfully pale and ghastly — for, having had no intelligence up to this hour from Margaret, he approached the crisis of his fate with the most dismal forebodings.
We are afraid we must not give him the full credit of having con- trolled himself by any philosophy of his own during that racking interval. The merit was chiefly due to the prudent counsels of Mr. Costigan, who, seeing the forlorn condition to which the young man was reduced, volunteered the friendly office of keep- ing guard over him up to the last moment From the instant
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Mr. Costigan had discovered bis secret, be never lost sight of him; and, although he was not exactly the sort of person Henry Winston would have selected for a confidant, yet that un- happy young gentleman found much comfort in his company. The consolations of genuine sympathy are above all price. The mere babble of a heavy grief is ease to the wounded heart ; and to do Mr. Costigan justice, the patience with which he listened to Henry's incoherent talk, and the rough, strengthening advice he administered to him, were not without a soothing and salutary effect
Mr. Costigan was in his element in a business of this nature, and had had so large an experience in similar affairs, that he con- siderably mitigated Henry Winston's grief, and fortified him for the ordeal that lay before him, by the narratives he related to him of the clandestine marriages, elopements, and duels he bad assisted at in the course of his meteoric career. It was sur- prising, indeed, that he did not recommend his protkg't to send a message to Lord Charles; but he wisely deprecated such a pro- ceeding, not because he did not cordially approve of that mode of adjudication, but because, under existing circumstances, it would have placed his young friend in a false position, seeing that no direct casus belli had as yet arisen between him and his lordship. Mr. Costigan was a great stickler for certain rules to be observed on these occasions, which might all be summed up in two golden maxims, — the first of which was to put his opponent in the wrong, and the second, to keep him there. Could he have only got a hitch of any kind upon Lord Charles, he would have had him out the next morning. As it was, he thought the most advisable course was to run away with Margaret, and, if it should be necessary, shoot his lordship afterwards.
Henry Winston occupied a lodging in Duke Street, St James's, a couple of dingy little rooms, that might be said to have folded up into each other, on the second floor. Some college friend had recommended him to the house, which was a regular lodging-house — that is to say, an establishment rented off in apartments to single gentlemen, who let themselves out upon town all day, and let themselves in at night with latch-keys. This arrangement was a great convenience to Mrs. Stubbs, the respectable landlady, as it left her free to make a daily survey of the apartments, partly for the purpose of seeing that they were properly aired and attended to in the absence of their inmates, but chiefly as it enabled her to look after their little stocks of bachelor comforts, in the way of tea, brandy, and the like, which these heedless young men are so apt to neglect. Mrs. Stubbs took stock every day, and the necessity for this exercise of her motherly care was shown in the fact that, notwithstanding her vigilant inspection of the caddies and cupboards of her lodgers, their contents dimi- nished from day to day with alarming rapidity.
Mrs. Stubbs was a widow. Her husband had been a box- keeper at one of the theatres, and many were the stories she used
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to relate of bis extensive acquaintance amongst the aristocracy, and of the fine annual benefits he made, and the jocose sayings of the lords, and even of the ladies, with whom he was intimate in his professional capacity, mixed with green-room anecdotes and traditions of that palmy time of the stage when Mrs* Moun- tain was in her glory, and the Siddons ruled over the realms of tragedy. During Stubbs' lifetime she lived in clover, and was able to enjoy the luxury of a chaise; but since the death of that popular favourite she was thrown upon her own resources, which consisted of whatever profit she could make of the bouse in Duke Street There was little to be made of a lodging-house in the mere matter of rent, taking all vicissitudes into consideration ; and Mrs. Stubbs9 principal dependency was upon the general department of "extras," in the management of which she displayed remarkable tact and activity. She had acquired from tne la- mented Stubbs an insight into the art of popularity, which she turned to practical account amongst the waifs and strays who took up their occasional residence in her house, and who, being proverbially unskilled in the grocery concerns of human life, were peculiarly susceptible of the class of attentions she bestowed upon them. She was, indeed, all manner of women to all manner of men ; knew every body's history, as far as she could glean it from visitors, servants, or the originals themselves; felt the deepest interest in the remote and unknown family connections of her lodgers, and always had questions to ask after the health of relatives in the country, whose very existence was a problem to her; thus showing so amiable a sympathy in their affairs, without betraying any invidious distinction between the first floor and the attics, but treating all with a proportionate measure of solicitude, that she had no difficulty in gliding into their financial disburse- ments, which, to her credit be it recorded, she considerately regulated according to the paying capabilities of the individual.
Now Mrs. Stubbs felt more than ordinary anxiety about Henry Winston. She saw from the beginning of ner acquaintance with him the generous and unguarded points of his character, and how much he stood in want of such household services as she could render him. He did not seem to have a great deal of money to throw away, but she discovered that what little he had he threw away with a thoughtlessness which called aloud for the controlling hand of such a friend as herself. Nor was she long at a loss to penetrate the secret of his abstraction and heedless- ness ; but there was little merit in her divination on this subject, for it did not require the acumen of so good a judge of young men's foibles to find that Henry Winston was steeped over head and ears in love. Having clearly satisfied herself as to that fact, her next object was to ascertain who the lady was, and this she hoped to extract from Mr. Costigan.
If Mr. Costigan had a weakness, it was whiskey. That was the duct that ran direct to his heart When he came of an even- ing, Mrs. Stubbs was always assiduous in seeing that there was
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4 THE LADDER OF GOLD.
a sufficient supply of alcohol for his use, and he was nothing loth to help her, in contributing to swell that item in Henry Winston's bill of charges. But he had too magnificent a sense of the con- fidence involved in affairs of honour to let a clue to the mystery with which he was entrusted escape him. As he thought it a
ttity, however, to disappoint her altogether, considering how iberal she was of his friend's " materials;" and being of opinion, moreover, that it was desirable to baffle any inquiries that might be made at the lodgings after Henry Winston had got clear off with Margaret, it occurred to him that it would be a stroke of sound policy to throw out a few misleading hints that would put inquisitive people on a wrong scent, and at the same time appease Mrs. Stubbs' curiosity just as well as if he told her the exact facts of the case.
The evening before the appointed morning that was to make Henry Winston the happiest or the most miserable of men, Mr. Costigan was at his post in Duke Street, having been employed throughout the day in endeavouring to pick up some information in Park Lane, without being able to obtain the slightest intelli- gence, the ladies being shut up in their own rooms and denied to everybody. Henry Winston, who had buoyed himself to the last in the hope that before the day was out he should have some tidings from Margaret, gave way to a burst of despair upon learning the result of Costigan's mission ; but Costigan, whose hopefulness generally ascended in proportion as circumstances looked more gloomy, drew the most cheerful omen from his failure. Wasn't it natural, he observed, that Margaret should refuse to see any one at a moment when she was making prepa- rations to leave her home, and throw herself into the arms of her lover? Was that a time to receive visitors? What did he think she shut herself up in her room for? Why, she was pack- ing, to be sure ! What else did he suppose she was doing ? And if she didn't intend to be off with him, wouldn't she have written a line to him to say so? These, and many other arguments of much the same speculative cast, were re- sorted to with a fluctuating effect by Costigan, who, between scolding and soothing, left no means untried of calming the violent agitation of his friend. Henry thought there was some reason in this — but then why did not Clara contrive to send some communication to him ? Why was she so cruel as to keep him in this suspense ? He looked out of the window constantly for the postman, still thinking that a note would come to relieve him ; and it was not till long after the last delivery was over, and the tramp of footsteps in the street began to lessen and give warning of the approach of night, that he relinquished that lingering hope. All the comfort that remained to him was that if Margaret had determined not to accede to his proposal, she would at least have given him notice, and spared him the misery of so bitter a disappointment ; she had too tender a heart to inflict such agony upon him — she who was always so thoughtful
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THE LADDER OF GOLD. 5
of the feelings of others, so careful to avoid giving pain ! But, perhaps, she was offended with him for proposing such a step — perhaps she considered it an outrage, an insult t He had never seen it in that light before, and now that it presented itself to him under so discouraging an aspect, his fears magnified its enormity. And thus, swayed backwards and forwards, between hope and despair, Henry Winston went through the most miser- able evening he had ever passed in his life. He thought morn- ing would never come.
All through these heavy hours, while Henry was pacing up and down the room, or stretching himself fiercely on a sofa, Mr. Costigan was luxuriating in an arm-chair, replenishing his tumbler from time to time, and trying to divert Henry's thoughts by sundry wild jokes and wilder remonstrances.
" 'Pon my honour and conscience,*9 said Mr. Costigan, " I 'm ashamed of you. Pooh ! — the back of my hand to you — I dis- own you entirely. Why, man, if any one was to take a per- spective view of you now, growlin' and tossin* yourself about, they M be mighty apt to think that instead of goin' to be mar- ried, you were goin* to be hanged. Ah ! then may be you are — but it 's round an alabaster neck, you reprobate ! Whoo ! I wish I was in your place. By my honour, it isn't tearing my hair I 'd be, but sittin' down quietly, and settlin' the particulars about to-morrow. I dare say, you've lost the memorandum I gave you ?"
u No — i have it here."
" Well, just give us a rehearsal of it to see if you remember what you 're goitf to do."
" Oh ! I have it by heart — post to Southampton — I know every spot where I am to change — arrive an hour before the start of the boat — cross to Jersey — then over to St Malo. I know it all — but it '8 not that — it 's not that"
" Then I wonder what it is, if it isn't that ? You '11 be sing- in* another tune this time to-morrow mornin', when I '11 be throwin' an ould slipper after you, and shoutin' out, —
" The Lord be with you ! and a bottle of moss, And if you never come back it Ml be no great loss ! "
Listen to me now. Ould Mother Stubbs is coram' up with the hot water; and as they '11 be sure to be makin' tender inquiries after you when you 're gone, we must put her on a false scent. Just go into the next room for a minute, and let me open the business to her; and mind, whatever I say, you must swear to— or hold your tongue, may be that '11 be better in the charmin' mood you're in. Here she is — be off with you."
Henry Winston went into the bed-room, as Mrs. Stubbs made her appearance with a jug of boiling water, from the mouth of which the steam was issuing in voluminous clouds.
" More power to you, Mrs. Stubbs," exclaimed Costigan, brightening ; " you 're the woman for keepin' us in hot water ; a
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practice, I believe, that 's pretty universal amongst the women, and small blame to them for that same/1
" Ah ! Mr. Costigan," returned Mrs. Stubbs, " you Irish gentleman are always so pleasant — poor Stubbs was very fond of the Irish, and so am I. I 'm sure I have every reason to speak well of them, although I 'm afraid you 're a set of gay deceivers — you are ! That water boiled, Mr. Costigan, if ever water boiled in this world. Where 's Mr. Winston ? " she added, in a lower tone.
" There ! " said Costigan, pointing to the inner room — " packin.' He *s off to-morrow ! "
« I 'm grieved to think it," cried the landlady ; " I 'U never see such a gentleman as him in my house again — he was so easily pleased, and so good-natured and condescending. Well — I hope it 's to better himself he 's going. "
" Hard to say, Mrs. Stubbs. I don't much like it myself; but then, I *m a little too ould to emigrate."
" Emigrate, Mr. Costigan ? You don't mean to say that Mr. Winston is going to emigrate?"
" If you were to take a trip down to Liverpool to-morrow mornin'," continued Costigan, raising his voice, " you 'd see him takin' his departure on an agricultural expedition to the back- woods of America."
" Well, of all places," cried Mrs. Stubbs, "that's the last I should have thought a gentleman like Mr. Winston would bury himself in. I 'm quite shocked to hear it — I am indeed."
" Don't be shocked, Mrs. Stubbs. It 's a tearin' speculation for a young man, and you mustn't put him out of heart with it But mind what I tell you — be careful what you say about it ; because you see some of his friends want him to settle at home, only he has particular reasons of his own for going to America ; and I dare say the Rawlingses may be askin' affectionately after him — though, to be sure, once be 's gone he 's gone, and it's no great matter what any one says or thinks after that."
" I 'm sure I M do anything in the world to oblige Mr. Wins- ton ; and if any body should ask "
" Well, I wouldn't have you deceive them. What 's the use of deceiving them ? Just tell them that he took a short stick in his band, and went to seek his fortune. Drink his health, Mrs. Stubbs, and may the Devil blow the roof off the bouse he 's not welcome in ! "
Mrs. Stubbs, taking up the glass that Costigan filled out for her, went to the door of the bed-room, and, dropping a curtsey, pronounced her benediction upon the young man, who felt rather ashamed of the hoax in which he was a silent accomplice.
" Thank you — thank you, Mrs. Stubbs — but I 'm very busy just now. I shall see you in the morning before I start."
Mrs. Stubbs was very uncomfortable at this intelligence. She suspected there was something more in it than Mr. Costigan thought proper to tell her, and she went away, privately making
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up ber mind to watch every stir on the following morning, and ascertain whether Henry Winston was really going to Liverpool. Her own opinion was that he was going to fight a duel, and she had some serious thoughts of giving a hint to the police. At all e?ents, she would be on the alert But Mr. Mick Costigan was too experienced a tactician to be out-manoeuvred even by the wide-awake Mrs. Stubbs, and had already taken measures to secure his friend against the risk of being traced or followed
The night wore on in much low and earnest talk about the business of the next day. Costigan gave Henry Winston some subtle advice as to how he should act on the road, and what he ought to do in the event of being pursued, or of meeting any person likely to recognise him ; and the contemplation of these possible dangers, the necessity of providing against them before- hand, threw a colour of seriousness into the conversation that abated for the time the throbbing anxieties of the lover. The aflair began to look real at last The consummation or the wreck of his hopes was close at hand Only a few hours now intervened till his fate should be known and accomplished. And all this talk about what he was going to do, and how it was to be done, gave it an air so practical and seductive, that his imagi- nation was easily ensnared by the prospect of a happy issue to his troubles.
Mr. Costigan having wrapped himself up in all the coats he could find in the room, and taken possession of the sofa, with the card-cloth for a counterpane, Henry Winston went to bed ; but, under such circumstances, it is easier to go to bed than to go to sleep, and he lay very restlessly for a long time, turning from side to side, counting the quarters as they struck in the turret of St. James's Church, and listening, with a sort of infatuation, to the nasal trombone which was performing a singularly irregular obligate movement in the next room.
Margaret's face, sometimes looking very sad, and sometimes lighted up with gaiety, as it used to be in the happy hours of their childhood, flitted incessantly before him ; and all the words she had spoken at different times came crowding back upon him, jumbled and confused ; and he thought of many things that had happened, and went over old scenes, which he set in new frames, and animated with new actions and imaginary dialogues, more passionate and eloquent a hundred fold than any he had ever uttered in her actual presence; and these memories, tricked out with fanciful devices, steeped his senses in a chaos of specula- tions, under the influence of which his eyelids dropped, and, between waking and sleeping, with the half-consciousness which attends the slumber of love when it is fretted to the core by fears and misgivings, he fell into a dream of her who was the arbiter, for good or evil, of his whole life to come.
It was a dream, not of the past, but of the future. Lovers are always deluding themselves — even in their sleep! His head was so full of the morrow, that he started at once, full gallop,
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from Hanover Gate into the regions of phantasy. Margaret was at her appointment, timid and frightened, and folded up in veils and shawls,— thea, swifter than light, they were together, flying over roads and down green labyrinths, and away to the roaring waters, with many a tremulous touch of remorse and backward look of fear ; then all was accomplished, aud they were beyond the seas, and there was a sunny lake, clasped round by soft hills, green to the peaks with foliage, and the still sweet air dropped odours around them, as they gazed into each others eyes, and felt that tender and serene happiness which but once, and then for too brief a space, absorbs and melts our hearts in this world of stone and ashes. For a moment they stood on the margin of the lake as motionless as the shadows of the trees that lay aslant the transparent sunshine, and then Margaret's lips parted, and a voice rose upon his ear —
"Holloa! man, you'll sleep your seven senses away. It's half-past seven ; and you 'd never forgive yourself if you were late ! "
Henry started from his sleep, and, opening his eyes, saw the dishevelled figure of Mr. Costigan leaning over him, his two hands firmly placed upon his shoulders, in the act of shaking him with all his might and main. The ecstatic dream was over — the reality was before him in an instant The process of the toilet was rapidly dispatched— he had little time for reflec- tion, and went through the form of breakfast more like a man who was still dreaming, than a lover on the qui vive for the most critical of all adventures in which a lover could be engaged.
During breakfast Mr. Costigan had the discretion to trouble him with few observations, and the burthen of them was to hurry and " not to keep the creature waiting."
The room was in as great a litter as Henry Winston's facul- ties. He had wound himself up for one object, and neglected and forgotten every thing else.
" Will you see to these things?'1 he said to Costigan ; " I have thought of nothing. Where's the travelling-case? Hadn't I better send for a cab?"
" For Mrs. Stubbs to take the number, and track us like a hound ? Now isn't that a sensible idea of yours ? My dear boy, you 've put yourself in my hands, and it 's the etiquette to act under my orders. Don't trouble yourself about the things. You 'U find them at the railway-station at Southampton, directed to Thomas Joyce, Esq., — mind the name, — you have it in the paper. You must walk out with the case under your arm — 1 '11 take care you 're not followed — and when you turn the corner, cross over, duck under a horse's head, pretend to take one cab, jump into another, and away with you as fast as the garron can pelt for the bare life to Princes' Street — drop out there, and run for your life to the livery-stable, where the carriage is waiting for you, and off to the woman that owns you, and may
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THE LADDER OF GOLD. 9
bad fortune and ould Rawlings be a day's march behind you for the rest of your life ! "
Uncoutbly as this speech rang upon his ears, Henry was affected by the pains bis wild friend had taken to provide for all contingencies, and his eyes said as much as be silently squeezed his hand.
a Are you ready now ? " demanded Costigan. " One partin' word before you go. You don't know much of the world, and your head isn't exactly just at present as clear as it ought to be. Keep yourself cool— don't touch sperits ! 1 'm an ould fellow, and love maybe is all over with me; but I Ve known what love was in my day, and feel for you, my poor boy ! My blessing go with you ! Send for me if you want me, and it '11 be a mighty big act of parliament that '11 stop me from comin' to you. But mind what 1 tell you — keep your head cool— don't drink ! A man flies to it in trouble ; but drink only maddens the sorrow, and makes us as helpless as children. I know it well. Many and many 's the time — no matter now. Who cares for Mick Costigan, or b'lieves that such an ould, half-cracked sinner has a heart in his body? Ah! my darlin' boy, we've all hearts, if we dare rive way to them ! Now, here 's a little partin' gift for you to take with you —it's a charm against bad weather I — just whip 'em under your arm, and away with you !" handing him at the same time a small mahogany-case, covered up in green cloth.
" What is it ?" inquired Henry Winston.
Costigan quietly opened the case, and displayed a pair of neat pocket pistols which had evidently seen considerable service. ** They 're ould travellers," he said, " and if they could spake, they 'd tell you some quare stories. There now, not one word, but go. You '11 be late, I tell you."
Henry Winston wished to say something, but Costigan hur- ried him out of the room, and would not even let him stop to say " Obod bye !" to Mrs. Stubbs, who, although she was watching his departure, was not in time to catch him as Costigan pushed through the hall, and rapidly closing the street-door after him placed his back against it just as Mrs. Stubbs emerged from the parlour. Mrs. Stubbs was thrown into a great taking at this disappointment, and wanted to run out into the street to shake hands with her lodger at parting, but Costigan carried .her back into the parlour very much against her wiu, and kept her there till his friend had ample time to effect his escape.
In the meanwhile Henry Winston acted strictly upon Costi- gan's stratagetic hints ; and taking a cab in Piccadilly arrived in a few minutes at the livery-stable, where he found the travelling carriage in readiness to take him to his destination. At half- past eight o'clock he reached Hanover-gate.
The morning was chill and dreary. A thick damp fog hung over the houses. Few people were astir, and, with his blinds care- fully drawn down (which betrayed his inexperience in such affairs),
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10 THE LADDER OF GOLD.
Henry Winston watched with a kind of morbid interest the life that was awakening in the opposite houses; typified by the opening, here and there, of the curtains of the upper windows, and the occasional vision of a head peering through the glass at the dull clouds that hung over head.
He noted every face that passed by, and some of them turned to look at the carriage, which had rather a suspicious appearance in such a place at such an hour; and as the numbers gradually increased curiosity increased in proportion, and even the policeman stopped, and seemed to examine the carriage with those peculiarly inquisitorial eyes, to which a man who is employed in any secret transaction is apt to attach a very dis- agreeable meaning.
Every bonnet that came in sight was anxiously scrutinized, and once or twice, in the eagerness of treacherous expectation, Henry Winston jumped out of the carriage to run after some figure that he fancied bore a vague resemblance to Margaret, only to return depressed and disappointed.
Nine o'clock, half-past nine, and ten o'clock came and went, and the moving population was growing, and carriages were thickening in the road, and the flags were alive with foot-passen- gers. The individual scrutiny became more and more difficult. His terror now was lest he might miss her in the crowds that passed up and down, or lest, not seeing him at once, she might get frightened, and go back again. While he was undergoing a martyrdom from these racking fears, an open carriage, that in- stantly attracted notice from the splendour of its appointments, approached at a leisurely pace the spot where he had taken up his position. At the first glance be fancied he knew the liveries ; and we hope it will be no disparagement to his courage to say, that at that moment his heart fluttered as if it had wings and wanted to fly out As the equipage drew nearer, all doubt upon the point vanished. It was Mr. Rawlings' carriage.
Henry Winston lifted up the corner of the blind to adlure himself of the fact ; and, as if that action had drawn the atten- tion of the people in the carriage, the eyes of two of them were directed full upon him. The carriage passed within a few yards of him, and he could see them distinctly, although it was not so certain that they could recognize him, as he was seated in shadow. He could hardly trust the evidence of his senses at a sight which blasted all his hopes, and turned his love into horror and despair. There were three persons in the carriage, Mr. Raw- lings and Margaret, and opposite to them — Lord Charles Eton. Mr. Rawlings and Margaret looked straight at the blind which he held trembling in his hand ; and he was close enough to them to see that, as they drove slowly past, there was a smile — could it be of derision or triumph ? for ne interpreted it both ways ? — upon Margaret's face !
He thrust his head wildly out of the window ; but the carriage swept on, and in two or three minutes disappeared. Should he
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THE LADDER OF GOLD. 11
follow them, or remain where he was, and wait the issue ? Per- haps, after all, Margaret was compelled to go out that morning, and would surely come to him, as soon as she could escape. And, if he left the appointed place, he might lose her for ever. But then that smile, so sweet, so bitter, so indifferent, so heart- less ! Why did she smile ? Was it to give him an assurance of ber truth, or to show him how happy she was with his rival ? And how did it happen that Lord Charles was with her at that early hour ? And above all, for what purpose did they drive in that direction, past the very spot where she knew he was waiting for her? It was all dark and inexplicable to him, and the fierce