Lost abroad ...
page: 0Illustration (TitlePage) [View Page 0Illustration (TitlePage) ] A spirit in my feet Has led me -- who knows how?- To thy chamber window, sweet. GEO. ATRE TOBEDWNSEND. HARTFORDya CONN. 8, Al. 13ETTS AN7D C(3OIIPA N CHCAGO, ILL.: GIBBS * NICHOLS, GEO8. ATweE 70 page: 0[View Page 0] Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by GEORGE ALFRED TOWNSEND, by the Clerk's Offiee of the District Court of the United States for the District of Columbia. PREFACE. To whom shall I dedicate this story and pilgrimage? To some one of the pleasant playmates or schoolmates, whose good will I hope to keep always? Or to some of the cheering colleagues in my present pursuit, of whom there are many -dearer than they know? Or to nearer friends, who make my cause their own when I am farthest from their standards of excellence and good? No! To no one of these, lest something herein said might not be worthy of him. I inscribe it to them al when I write, according to .my best sincerity and appreciation: To YOUNG AMERICA, the best of America, and being so, the best of ujng men, the most ardent, the most practical, the manliest, the newest type of human nature. ' Eight years ago, rising out of the fevers of the Chickahominy campaign, I felt a different fever,-to see - Europe, and measure my countrymen by the manhood and achievements there. After some trials and wander- : !. page: iv-v (Table of Contents) [View Page iv-v (Table of Contents) ] IV PIEFACE. ing, not of the wisest kind, but self-impelled, and in the reminiscence, happy, I conceived the idea of charg- ing some of those experiences upon a fictitious character, and wrote the early parts of this story while returning home upon the ship. Two subsequent voyages added new incidents and observations to my early sketch, and now, almost without my will, this modest adventurer is called forward and introduced to the folks of his age and his ardor. It is not a satisfactory task to burden one's hero with descriptions, but those to whom I commit Applegate Shrink will, perhaps, meditate making his own perilous experiment; and wil need to know where he tarried, and how he was affected. It is an adventure that will probably be repeated as long as a star, shines in the East, or there is room even in the stable of the inn where the young child may lie. Therefore I bring my friend from his retirement, and commit him to his peers. Go, young errant, arid return in the more formidable vesture of a book I But that which made thee can return no more,-- the light, the happy, the inconsiderate time of life which Wisdom would give all her treasures to recover. CONTENTS. "HAPTER I. THE INTERNATIONAL STEEtfiAGE. Applegato Shrink, the Pedestrian Tourist--The Steerage Passage- Motley Fellow-Passengers--The Dream of our Hero: to See Europe Afoot--His Reception in the Steerage-The Knife-Grinder-- Pr- mature Regret and Satiety--Ship Folks . 13 CHAPTER ]. THE CONTRACTOR'S F4MTTY. iMr. Titus Oates, the Contraotor - The Wanderings of "Shoddy I in War. times- A Fighting Boy- Cruise on a Load of Hay-Mrs a0ster Contemns the Young Steerage Passenger -Life in the Pit 21 CH APTER III, BELOVED ON SHP-BOARD. Sea-sick Sights-Storm at Night-The Purloiners oT the Depths.- A Lunatic Aboard - He Charges Theft upon our Hero - "Clear the Bunks!" - The Sick Boy Swoons - His Friend in Need -The Maid of Bingen on the Rhine - Gretchen's Story - Holt, the Bright Eng- lishmanlrl The Steerage Aristocracy-- Love Between-Worlds . . 28 "HAPTER IV. A NIGHT'S PERIL. Oape Race-The Despatch Boat--The Last of the Flag -Applegate's Bettothal - The Happy Truooe - Dreams of Love - The Abduotion- "I will send You into the Sea" -Saved by Sweetheart . . 88 CHAPTrER V. THE NEW LADY PASSENGER. The Cabin Passengers and the Crazy Man-Miss Kent and Holt, the Adventurer--More Glimpses of Life on a Steamship-Sunday in the First Cabin . . . . . . . . . 4 page: vi (Table of Contents) -vii (Table of Contents) [View Page vi (Table of Contents) -vii (Table of Contents) ] CONTENTS. CHTA 'ER VI. ASHORE IN ENGLAND. Good-by to Gretehen--The Wild-eyed Man still following Apple- gate-- The Coast of Sussex - English Scenery - The Prose of Tramp- ig in Foreign Lands on Fwt - Charaoter of Holt . 6t CHTAPTER VII. A 1Y8WTISKY AT HASTINGS. Brighton-Hastings-Description of the Castle- The Nook in the Village Inn-Holt's Pupularity - Walk to Battle Abbey--Strange Pursuers - Holt's Alarm - The Mysterious Flight - More Scenes on the Sussex Coast - Tho Misty Vales of Kent-- Holt's Character Un- veiled- Who is He? - The Confidence - Vision of the Knife-Grinder 65 CH1A VFIER V111. A WINK-FULL QE LONDON. The Old Tower on Shooter's Hill -Panorama of London and the Thames-Holt's Restless Night-The Footsteps on the)Stile- Morning in Woolwich-Dismay at the Hulks' Tavern-Up the ThsK-^"-The Antwerp Paeket-Appearance of Aolt's Enemy- N ight on the English Channel . . . . . . 76 CHAPTER m THE GREAT LOSS AT ANTWERP. -The ^anks of the Scheldt-View of Antwerp-Sailors' Quarters-- Gretdhen' Love-Letter- The Cathedral sad the Museum-Joy at th forot of' Rubens's Statue - The Resolve to Visit Bingen - Tender Parting Scene with Holt- Sweet Dreams of the Morrow-The Awkening- Holt Missing -Despair . . * 83 CHAPTER X. BEGGARED ON THE DUTCH DIKES. Lost Abroad-All Lost-The Maniao's Pity-A Sailor's Friend- ihii-T ie Road to Bread-- A Pawnbroker's Shop-Appeal to Amerio-an The Road to Hague-Remorse in the Night . 92 CHAPTER XL. HE1 TRUE ROMANCE OF VllWiNG THNGS AFOOT. The , Steamer for Dort-Views in Rotterdam-Extortion at the HoWti-Delft and the Hague,- The Ordeal of Begging - An Attache f the Igation-Refnsed Help-A Bitter Tesson -- The Punishment of Errantry . . . .. . . 99 CONTENT&S Vi CHAPTER XII. GLIORIES SEEN IN MSERY. The Attaoh6 Pities -Applegate-Ride by Canl.-Night Seneos in Holland-Leyden and Haarlam-Arrival at Amatetdam-No Hope--The Temptation to Steal- The King's Palae- Picture Gal-. lery- The Night Watch - Sleep by the Zuyder Zee -Impressed byr Shipping Sharks - The Struggle- Escape . 10. OCHAlTArER X! 1i. SERVITUDE AT THE HAGUE. Wandering in the Dark City --Spinosa's Neighbors-The Polder Bottoms-Scenes of Holland Life--Night in a Cart--Return to Hague-The Hotel De Huygens-A Dinner of Despair-Forget. fulness - Arrival of the Attach- Work and Justice -Dutch House. hold Lifo .1 . . . . . .. l20 CHtAPTER XIV. A REBUFF FROM AMERICA. Lettors from Gretchen - The Avaricious Uncle - Sister's Good Words- A Chance to Ark - Joris, the GarFon - Travelling Englishmen - Applegate a Hotel-Runner -Friends Arrive . . 13 CHAPTER XV. YOUNG AMERICA'S V"IWS OF ART. Mr. Oates on the Dutch People-The Prince of Orange--Rembrandt Picture of a Disseotion - Paul Potter's Bull-- Nights at the' Hague -Applegate turns Valet de Place . . . 140 CHAPTER XV1i. IN MECHLIN CIURCH-TOWER. The Cathedral of Meohn- View from the Summit-The Carillon- Glimpse of the Mysterious Musioian--Holt again-The Enemy Pursuing- Holt's new Flight . . . . . 160 CHAPTER XVII. THE YOUNG COUlIEER IN BRUSSNLS. An English Guide-Book - France and America - Brussels and the Hotel de Ville-Talk with the Attach6--AnotherT Love-Letter-- Oppor- tunity to go HoiMt--Mrs. Oates and the Aristocraoy-Stg Gutdule- r ..-rs page: viii (Table of Contents) -ix (Table of Contents) [View Page viii (Table of Contents) -ix (Table of Contents) ] VIIIT (XCONTENTS. CHFAPTER XVLH. THE FLUNKEYS OF WATERLOO. Going to Waterloo--The Diligence and its Passengers- Miss Kent's Sermon- Talk on "Sore Places "-The Church at Waterloo Hou- goumont-- Humors of the Battle-field- The Chapel-- Napoleon Revived-- Ms Oates and Scond, the Exile . . . , 171 ,CHAPTER XIX. A LOVE-LETTER FROM THE MEUSE. Applegate describes the Valley of the Meuse - Liege-Aix la Chapelle-- Charlemagne - German Thought - Cologne - Cologne Cathedral - St. Ursula-Distress . -. . . ... . 19& CHAPTER XX. THE PANORAMA OF THE RHNE. Skedaddlors-Drachenfels- Robber Knights- arious Castles- Rhe- nish Scenery - Bingen - Passing Love's est - Mayenco - The Swiss Runaway - The Gambling Baths . . . . . 203 CHAPTER XXI. APPLEGATE'S SECOND TEMPTATION. Bale--The Black Forest--Miss Kent's Proposition -Applegate Saved by Love "Now for Paris" . . . . . . . .216 CHAPTEiR XXIT. GOOD JiEWS AT LUCERNE. 1 Dopartu-e of Miss Kent - First Wink of Switzerland - Olten - Gliding into the Alps- Lucerne City- The Knife-Grinder's Song--The 'Avenger- -Letter from Sister--A Draft from an Editor-Happy Sleep . . . 221 CHAPTER XXIII. SATLTNG INTO THE ALPS. iake of the Four Cantons - A Study of the Alps - Their Associations- Heaven and Snow - William Tell's Birthplace -- Cheery Apple-tree- A Storm Impending on the St. Gothard Way . . . 232 CHAPTER- XXTV. THE AVALANCHE. . Terrible Storm--Mrs. Oates in Grief--Stalled on the Devil's Bridge- The Meeting in the Hole of Uri--Holt Entrapped-- The Fight-- The Escape--The Knife-Grinder - Tumbling of the Avalanche - Horrible Darkness - The Ludicrous Battle of the Inn - Death of -tke Grenadier . . . . 244 . [ coNl'ilS. tX CFTAPTER XXV. ,PURSUED ACROSS THE GLACIER. Bolivar and Applegate go on Foot to Geneva -The Gallenstook Mcul tain - Desolate Life and Scenery - The Glacier --Its Epio History - Sudden Appearance of Hilt - A Struggle in the Ice-fields-- Exit . 6 CHTAPTER XXV1. A FRIEND AT, CHAMBERRY. Savoy and Impressions - The Ducal House - A New Party - Gretohen'* Return-Her Mistress-Agar Redfn-The New Lady-Flut' ter ot Second Love--An American Colonel and his Household- Gretchen's Foreboding. . , . CHAPTER XXVll. BALLOONING ON WHVl 1I:,S. Max and Applegate Ride over Mt. Cenis - The Alpine Railroad -A FAa on the Way - Fourneau and the Tunnel - Modane - Lans-leo-Bourg - The Last Grades - Thrilling Sensations - "Down Brakes!" . w ' "HAPTER XxVlli. THE FIRST DAY OF ITALY. fBmSa-- The Waldenses - Garibaldi - Mrs. dOatess Brutality- Sympathy -- The Mis-avowal of Love-- Agar's Astonishment . , . *299 'CHAPTER XX IX., 1FIVE MTTLES UNDERGROUND. Bolivar 'Hear ar the Drums-- Ride to Bardonneoho - The Tunnel's Portal . . . . . . . . . . . . 309 EPISODE. THE GOLD HOAX, Or the Startling Discovery of Pierro Tagliare . * 32X ) CHAPTER XxX. "OVI AND EMULATION. Cause of Applgate's Apostasy -A Literary Engagement --SabrePractfee 4-Going to the King's Ball- Mrs. Oates Indignant - Good-night to Cinderella- The Quarrel . *336 page: x (Table of Contents) -xi (Table of Contents) [View Page x (Table of Contents) -xi (Table of Contents) ] PRESENTED TO TE KING. PRESENTED TO THE KING. Victor Tmmannuel and his Court - Honor to Colonel Redin - The Great World Opens to Applegate - Cialdini - IIilt and Miss Kent Again -Transformation -The Two Belles and the Rival Lovers -The O'allery of Armor- Love and Listening --Surrender of Gretchen's Trinkets - Who is 1Hilt? -- Breaking up of the Ball - The Lunatic Pursuer-- A Restless Night's Visions. . . . 345 CHAPTER. X XXIT. 4 THE PINNACLES OF MLAN. Encouragemont and Work-Magenta-A Talk on Tactics--Bolivar Growing Worse-Milan Cathedral - The Eight amongst the Pinnacles -The Panorama of the Alps -Story of the Lunatio--Holt's Great Crime Developed . . . . . . . . . . 368 CHAPTER XXXTiI. TT DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. Pomo--The Diligence to Capolago - Applegate's Doubts--Walk Across the Frontier with Miss Kent- Story of her Delusion, and its Cure- Bruck Alarmed at Applegate's Skill with the Pistol - The Lake and Town of Lugano- Mt. Salvatorea--The Alps Again-Hotel du Pare-- Gretchen, Bolivar, and Applegate-Luini and Mazzini- Under the Cypress Tree - Holt and Benedek - Repining - The War in America--Death-bed of Bolivar Oates-Picture of Battle- Gretchen at the Cross--Going in to the Glory . . , . 384 CHAPTER A X XV. GOOD-BY, BSWEl'hlEART. Departure of Gretchen - The Trinkets - Doubt and Dismay - The Brera at Milan - Adieu to the Oates Family - Genoa and its Scenes - The Mediterranean - Colonel Redian asked for Agar's Hand -Singular Behavior-- Leghorn and Floronco . . . . . . . 415 CHAPTER XXXV. A LEAF FROM VALLAMBROSA. Applegate Ascends the Apennines-- The Arno-- Pontassievo Pel- ago - Ghiberti's Townsfolks - The Mountain Path - Convent Life in the Middle Ages-- Leaves in the Vale-- The Bells-I Welcome Pil. grims- The Friday Dinner --The ParadisingBeautiful View-- A Prophecy . . . . . . . . . . 43A CHAPTER XXXVI. THE DUIL AT ROME. Miss Kent's Troubles --Ficulle and the Baggage - Thieves- The Chal- lenge and the Assignation - Way to Rome - Stopped at the Gates - The Capitoline Hill-- Views and Reminiscences of the Imperial City Baths of Caracalla - The Duel and its Consequences - Tableau . 448 *Y CHAPT1'R XXIt. THE GRAVE-YARD AT BINGEN. tHilt's Work Goes On- The Mediterranean - Bingen and the ohtntain - Reunion--Illness-The Secret Disclosed-"Where are the Gifts of Betrothal?" - Indignant Love's Injunction - The Gravestone- "One Lost Abroad" . . . . . . . . . 470 APPLEGATE'S VISION- AN EPISODE. THE SOUTHERN COLONY. I. THE RUINED EXILES. Meeting of the American Spendthrifts - The Roulette Table - The System to Break the Rhenish Banks . . . . . . 80 I. RAISING THE WIND. The Last Collaterals Put to Use - Paris Pawnbrokers - The Departure of Auburn Risquo . . . 488 "I. DEATH IN EXPATRIATION. The End of Lees, the Master's Only Son - Despair of the Colony 494 THE DESPERATE CHANCE. Reminiscences of Auburn Risque-The Born Gamester-The Baize Tables at Wisbaden . . .. 498 V. . BURIED IN THE COMMON DITCH. Funeral of Lees - The Charity Hearse - Creditors with the Cross - The *i ^Cemetery of Mount Parnasse-The TWo True Weepers-Sudden Joy- The "System"Wins . . . . .... 0 VI. THE OLD REVELRY REVIVEU. Joy of Creditors--The Dinner of Triumph at the Trois Freres-- Speech of Hugenot-- Reappearance of Risque - The "System "Fails i --Flight * . . . . . . . . . 5" VII. e THE COLONY DISBANDD. Auburn Risque at the Horse Fair--Plade and Hugenot'Make a Jour- ney to Italy - Relief for Simp - Pisgah's Gteat Temptation-Chiv- page: xii (Table of Contents) -13[View Page xii (Table of Contents) -13] 3RII 1Cf - CONTENTS. airy - A Broken Prodigal's Vision of Home- rockle in the Debtors' Jail--Pisgah Enlists in the French Army' Remorse of Madame Francine . . . . . . . . . . . * 522 Vll. 1 THE MURDER ON THE ALPS. ttugenot and Plade at Bellinzona-- The Cabriolet - Counting the Money -The Privateer's Advertisement - Plado's Emotion- The Robbery -The Murder-- Risque, a Silent Witness . . . 538 IX. THE ONE GOOD DEED OF A PRIVATEERSMAN. A Gamester's Honor-"I will not Touch Blood-money " -- The Fair Start- GhoSt's Feet in the Snow-The Ride Down the Moonlit Alps --Dieppo-- The Privateer --Plade Arrested-Pisgah his Guard-- Absintho - The Escape - Soene on the Privateer -"A Spy on Board " The Yard-arm . . . . . . . . . . 549 X. THE SURVIVING COLONISTS. The Stories of the Rem ng Southerners Abroad-Freokle, a Priest - Moral 5.. . . . . . .* * * 560 APPLEGATE'S STORY RESUMED. CHAPTER XXX Vill. PRUSSIAN CAMP-FIRES. Colonel Redn Rescues Applegate from his Parisian Associations'-Danish Scenes--The Schleswig-Holstein War--Hilt in the Camps, Pursaed by his Shadow - Reappearance of the Oates Family, a Sutlors- The Palace at Berlin -The King of Prussia- Bismarck, and the Prince- Generals-The Needle Gun - Applegate's Party Invade Austria . 663 CHAPTER XXXIX. SADOWA AND ITS TRAITOR. Applegate a Staff-Officer - The Issues at Stake - The Dawn of Sadowa - Battle -Scenes - Junction of the Three Armies-- "Who Gave Up Chlum?"-Hilt the Traitor-The Raid of the Three upon Konig- gratz- Bruck Magnanimous-- Hilt upon the Gibbet- The End of a Long Chase-Applegate a Prisoner of War . . . . . 576 CH APTER XL. THE CHURCH-YARD AT BINGEN AGAIN. "One Lost Abroad"-The Inscription on the Tomb--The Angels who Rolled the Stone Away--Four Happy Contracts made at Once-- Westward Bound . . . . . . .. 589 "OST ABROAD. CHtAPTER I. THE INTERNATIONAL STEERAGE. THE steamship lay smoking in the bay, and her last tug was whistling the last minute at the slip, when the last passenger, carrying his own trunk, hastened down the pier, and waved a tearful good-by to his sister, as the lines were cast away. The great hope of Applegate Shrink was about to be realized. He had dreamed of this trip until beneficent opportunity had interpolated the vision into his .life. The shape of marble which the sculptor loved so -truly, folded its white arms around him in the end; and so does every far-off ambition, if wooed faithfully and long, draw close to youth and yield to his embraces. He stood among the folks in motley on the forward deck, and put his foot upon all his worldly possessions. His long brown locks were pushed behind his ears. and the expressiveness of his sharp, fine features, was enforced by a sanguine flush, page: 14-15[View Page 14-15] " THE INTERNATIONAL STEERAGE. Only a pale spot, dancing on either cheek, marked his consciousness of the squalor around him; for Apple- gate was proud and sensitive, as resolute and poor. He could have wished, at least, to be spared the humilia- tion of quitting his native country amid such associa- tions, but the fare by cabin would be one half his means; he could ill afford, indeed, the steerage passage; and that he might not grow faint-hearted on the brink of his pilgrimage, he shut his teeth upon his thoughts, and clenched his hands because they tingled, and looked straight seaward. ' Oh, ho!" said Applegate Shrink to himself, "if poverty has not defeated me in this essay, does shame think to dissuade me? What are all these low folks to me? I am with them, but am not of them. I should be base indeed if I feared men's opinions, or felt myself unworthy only because I am unfortunate." Iere he reviewed his new acquaintances very much as a recruiting officer examines his ragged levies. Na- ture seemed to have made them negligently at first, but art had quite undone herself in adorning them. No- where out of a pantomine could such a variety of habits be seen . There was not any coat or hat entire; the costumes were of all ages, so that they be old; and in most cases there was a fusion of materials, like what may be imagined if at the Tower of Babel all tongues, garments and races had been melted up and cast out in eruption promiscuously. l They were. chiefly foreigners, alarmed by rumors of conscription, or disheartened by the perversity of the times, returning to-their original abodes; and appeared a THE INTERNATIONAL STEERAGE. i5 to remove, like Bedouins, with all their household effects. The mass carried common beds of straw, withcoarse blankets tQ match, and numerous vessels and utensils of tin, according to the ship's reglations; while many, distrustful of the bill of fare in the steerage, were prob- v ided with hams, liquors and potatoes. In the latter item the Irish were particularly complete; in the second the entire body had more or less interest, and the results -were already discernible in numerous witticisms and snatches of song which were bandied to and fro, inten- sified at times by a general dance and cheer. Here and there an aged, diseased, or disappointed person sat upon his chest, with his bundles and boxes around him, look- ing grimly, wearily or bitterly toward the shore; and among the women there were to or three, with faces softer than the rest, who gave a look of poesy to the hard practicality of the scene. The better class of passengers pressed forward to' smile at the oddity of the spectacle, aid Applegate could not but feel that he was an'object of remark, with his clean, dark garments, straight shape and thoghtfull eyes. "It may be weak to be ashamed," said he to himself, "but it is human." With Applegate Shrink, whose emotions were mer- curial as his perceptions were magnetic, bashfulness ,was life and character. It is the nervous, the sensitive, who stop or start the jworld; but they are more timid than snow-birds, if - their young spirits be crushed in cages. A4plegate's parents died while he was a child. An old, withered page: 16-17[View Page 16-17] 16 - THE INTE'R1'NATIONAL STEERAGE. maiden aunt protected and threshed him. He was edu- cated after a gloomy conventionalism; curbed in all that was vaulting, spurred in all that was crawling. The village in which he resided was a deep mystery to him. His experience was bounded by the table where he drank weak tea without sugar, and the garret, whither he was banished both for whatever he did and whatever he did not do. When Applegate's aunt was found dead in bed one morning, the elders of the church resolved to recognize "* her eminent piety by befriending her indigent nephew. An orthodox college, to whore endowment they con- tributedl had, at the time, a vacant scholarship. For the-space of four years Applegate, was fed, fagged, and taught; the sins of the pay-scholars redounded upon his head; he worked on half-holidays, and was mar tyred every Sunday. The world had but one bright place for him, -the college librarjy;. It was a ghoulish old hall, half darkened by the wire- encased windows ; a fit receptacle for the great controver- sialists who left the world sleepier and better for their having lived in it. There were no novels, of course, in this reverend repository. A few histories, lost amid so much learning, shrank into a modest corner; and hidden on the highest shelves, whither Applegate climbed at the peril of his neck, lay sundry volumes of travel and discovery. These were his thought-books, his heart- books. He read them in bed, behind his desk at reci- tation, in his pew during the crisis of the sermon. They told of far lands, made famous in soncg and art; of bluer skies than he had ever known; and greater cities, and grander mountains; of common men who THEB lNTERIATIONAL STi'EtIAGE. 17 made their memories religious; and of the march of ideas which neither men nor empires could rollback. He dreamed of these things till they haunted him; they beckoned him forever with tleir phantom faces; they said, "You are not a man, young Applegate! you are a pigeon, a hearth-cat, a mouse in your aunt's old garlet. What do you know? For shame! What have you seen? The great globe goes spinning through space; all men but you roam about its surface. The seas are not too dangerous; the mountain-tops are too low; the deep caves lack profoundness for the bold stride of your neighbors. You walk in narrow paths with narrow minds. Go abroad, whither your feeble thoughts precede you." It is probable, despite this ambition, that Applegate would remotely or never have visited Europe, but that, one day in his search, a very remarkable book came to hand. It described the adventures of a gentleman of- literary bias, who cut a walking-stick and bought -a knapsack, and went jogging over the Old World in the merriest manner imaginable: He turned his very mis- fortunes to mirth, and even to profit. He ate bread and cheese by the roadside, and slept in the most romantic taverns for no -money to speak of. He was by many thought to have led so memorable a- life on purpose to write it; and seriously, had made a very successful narrative, told with much enthusiasm, and .poetical to the utmost capacity of prose. It was this book that determined the career of Apple- gate Shrink. What had been done could be attempted again. Henceforth every thought and effort was turned upon pedestrianism and Europe. He walked, and read n% page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] 18 THE I'RNJRNAT. ONAL STEERAGE. as he walked, and came at last to know the book of his 'inspiration word for word. He saw nothing clearly; the future was misty, but, the path of fate led through He wrote to his sister, the protege of a rich, penurious uncle in the city of New York, and her letters in reply threw oil upon the fire of his desire. He taught a common school when his term at college finished, and wrote gratuitously for the country papers. Then came the war, but it hastened rather than diseouraged the consummation of his wish. He had neither the strength nor the inclination - perhaps not the courage - for a campaign. With less than two hundred dollars he bade adieu to his protectors. His uncle gave him a dogged welcome to New York, but would not advance a shilling to help him on his way. His sister's kiss was the only sweet thing which he carried from his native shores; but if it was dreary behind, it was grand- and unrealized before. He sees the spires off New York go down towards the horizon. The fair shores of the harbor were never so hard and ,sterile; he stands upon the tug, like the hero of his original- and the steamer which is to open up the beautiful lands of his dream rises before him with panting furnaces and streaming flags. If so much ardor was-tinged with a little regret that he could not go abroad'respectably, his pride was yet more shocked at the reception which met him upon the 'vessel. An officer at the gangway thok up the tickets, and helped Applegate on board with a smile; but when the officer remarked the steerage ticket, he THE INTERNATIONAL STEERABE. . 19 looked at first surprised and then contemptuous and said : "Go forward with these people!" He caught a glimpse between the engines of the richly furnished cabin. The table, sparkling with cut-glass, : was multiplied by many mirrors; the servants, in clean uniforms, welcomed the fashionAbly dressed pas- sengers; and there were books, music and soft divans to shorten the ennui of the voyage. Then he went for- J ward with the ragged folks who carried their multitude of rubbish, and the steward motioned him to descend by a precarious ladder into a dark and crowded hold. The foul odors of the place gave him a fainting sensation at first, but an attendant ordering him to be " spry " if he would find a berth, Applegate entered one of- several doors which led from the general area. There were two tiers or floors of beds in the reeking apartment, suspend- ed from the ceiling by iron rods, and framed of common planks, so closely fitted to a an's size that they looked like raws of coffins. Thirty-tw o persons were to sleep in a chamber scarcely twelve feet square, and without other access or space than a narrow passage down the middle. One circular window, a foot/in diameter, so thick as to be almost opaque, gave twilight to this plague-place, where the ticket-holders were already arranging their beds of straw amidst the uproar of curses and laugh- ter. Applegate took possession of an empty space, where he had for a companion on one side, a short, villanously featured Celt, upon the other an old, half-savage Gaul, whom he had already individualized upon the tug as page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] 20 THE INTERNATIONAL STEERAGE. the proprietor of a machine for grinding knives and scissors. The latter spoke but a few words of English, he had tramped up and down the world, cheered only by the hum of his wheel, and at present he was berat- ing the steward, because it had been taken from him and lowered into the bagogage-hold. The repulsiveness of this man was not diminished by a sort of grizzly humorwhich enveloped him. One loathed him the more because one laughed. His jet- black hair was long and matted; his intense eyes were expressive only of uncultured cunning; a grin hid in the deep, uncleanly lines of his face, and his garb was tattered and filthy beyond all parallel. This grotesque- ness did not go to his prejudice with the other pas- sengers, however; and it was doubtful that anybody on board obtained so great share of patronage and applause. A steward supplied Applegate with bedding, and he was glad to leave the chamber for the greater area, which was but little less noisy and uncomfortable. It answered for a dining-room, rough tables crossing it from side to side; and there were seven sleeping apart- ments adjacent, copies of that already described. A round aperture at the further end communicated with the bar, where malt liquors only were dispensed; for the convivial habits of the patrons were well understood, and the steerage had its legends of murder committed in drunkenness. IFrom the dining-hall Applegate could look through the open doors into the crowded bunk-rooms. One was-devoted to females, the base and boisterous press- ing upon the timid and the fair; illiterate old age talking 1THE INTERNATIONAL STEERAGE, 21 familiar dotage to shrinking girlhood; and oaths and ribaldry in women's voices making childhood blush. The dining-tables were already given up to petty gambling, and the coppers changed owners amidst frightful din. Liquors had been brought on board and were circulating freely, and Applegate was almost thrown on his face by a man who slapped his back and swore that he should drink. He escaped on' deck, ! whither many had preceded him, and walking as far aft ras was permitted, stopped by the great smoke-stack, under the bridge, and watched the receding shore. page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] 22 THE CONTRACTORSS FAMLY. gate, as he warmed his hands at the smoke-stack. He 1"y. der what it cost to build six of 'em.? CHAPTER H THE CONTRACTOR'S FAMLY. A SpplegatL, shrewdly featured ge oddtletyan, of that bodily composition known as un kotty," came p resently from the opposite direction, and nodded pleasantly to Apple- gate, as coal B the warmed his hands at the smokestack. He wore a steel f ob chain, with a bit of the to nskt sat the end of it, and one of his large fingers supported a large ring, bearing mpon a red seal the design ofne eye, an arm wield ing a hamm er. W"Rather fine ship, this ," said the gentleman; twon- der what it cost to build six of 'em?" Applegate smiled at t he oddity of the question. "Costs a power to run 'em, continued the stranger, shutting one eye and looking very shrewdly with the other, as if at an invisible calculation,--"wear and tear, crew, coal- By the way, who furnishes 'em with coal?" "I am sure it never occurred to me to ask,' said Applegate. The little person laughed quietly, and took the dimensions of the ship with one eye, and counted something on his fingers. "Wessels of all sorts bad stock,9' he said. "Storms, you know; but then storms good things for Mar'me in- surance." TTHE CONTRACTOR'S FAMLY. 23 As Applegate was at a loss what to say, the other went on warming his hands, speaking the while. "'I haven't had nothing much to do with craft; bought ten ferry-boats on a wenture, that's so! Six of 'em sunk, as was natural. Got my money back on four. Bought a fleet of sloops and schooners, likewise; hay, you know." "eigh, sir!" said Applegate, alarmed at the othe's abruptness. , "Yes, hay- straw - fodder - I promised 'em all to the War Department." , Oh!" cried Applegate, comprehending at last," you are a Government contractor." - "Just so I " replied the short person, smiling benig- nantly. "That is, I was. My name is Titus Oates. I am the man who ran the Potomac Blockade." Applegate intimated that the event had slipped his memory. X I was under contract, you know, to delivpr eight thousand tons of forage at Alexandria. Railway en- grossed with the transport of troops; river lined with rebel batteries. Embarked my hay. ori boats of small tonnage; nobody would take it up the Potomac. , Days -passed by. Hay lay at Baltimore. Department noti- fied me contract would be void and security forfeited in case of non-arrival on day appointed. I offered a :reward for an admiral of the fleet ready to make"the effort. No response. Then I determined to run the blockade' myself, and I did it I Lord! how they pep- pered us!"; said the little gentleman, with manifold gestures.' "Sloop No. 6 blew up No. 9, eight times on fire; 16, man at tiller lost right arm; 22, deserted page: 24-25[View Page 24-25] 24 THE CONTRACTOR'S FAMTT Y. by whole crew except nigger, who was drunk. Whizz, buzz, fizz, - fired at from fifteenl batteries ; but one day and a night before the expiration of the contract landed the hull lot, claimed the greenbacks, saved my reputa- tion! The little personulwas quite flushed at the finishing, but there was something alluring irf his quaint manner, and an air of frankness and affability did much to com- pensate for a hard, homely countenance. He looked like a spirited -person, and Applegate thought it quite probable that for a consideration he would undertake anything within the, range of probability. A fat, coarse, over-dressed woman appeared at this juncture, leading a gray-eyed boy by the hand. Her strong animal features acquired little dignity from 'a sneer that, overspread them, and her stride was pom- pous as her ton6 was affected. "Bolivar Oates," cried this lady to the boy as she came forward, "you shall not play marbles upon deck. It is a low amusement, sir. It teaches one bad language. What do you mean by fen,' sir, or 'knuckle down,' or 'lagging in'? You shall not lag in, Bolivar; I won't- have it." "I will," says Bolivar; what -do you know about it? I leave it to Pop." "My son," said Mr. Oates, "obey your mother. I ' - made a contract with her, some years ago, that she was to manage the family.' Titus Oates," whispered Mrs. Oates, fboking behind her w rily, "how often have I told you never to say that word 'contract' again? Must you curry the shop to Europe with you? Must you placard your profession # *THE CONTRACTOR'S FAMLY. 25 as you go, so that the whole world will say to me, she is the contractor's nife?" "My dear," said the little gentleman, " if you turn my mind from its natural drift, it will stagnate. You go to Europe for one thing, I for another.?buy you fine dresses. Show 'em. If you can get into society, stay there. But you must let me speculate on profit and risk, or I shall go mad." "Speculte as you like, Titus Oates," answered the lady, "only hold your tongue." "I can't, my dear," protested Mr. Oates; "if I see anything it's essential to ask what it /cost. If I don't know what it costs, how can I enjoy it? If anything has been constructed, a house, a fort, a government, a world, I must know the terms of agreement. You reason, my dear, from cause to effect; I supply a third item, - it is cause, contract and effect. .You say that two persons are necessary to a bargain; I maintain that there are three." Mrs. Oates, who had been trotting a large foot irri- tably upon the deck, was here recalled by a shout from - Master Bolivar, who had climbed some distance upon a tarred rope. "Come down this instant, Bolivar Oates!" cried the lady; "you will never break yourself of low habits; besides, you will fall." 1 "I won't come," said Bolivar Oates, "unless I may : play 'with my Tom Troller." "Do you stand' and hear, Titus Oates?" cried the lady; "he refuses his mother; fetch him down, sir!" "I told you that three parties were necessary to 2 page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] 26 . - THE CONTRACTOR'S FAMLY. everything," said the little man good-hiumoredly "Come down, Bolivar, boy I "I The ,ray-eyed lad slid down the rope at once, and began to search for gingerbread in his father's pockets, while Mrs. Oates, seeing Applegate, who had been concealed behind the smoke-stack, examined him mi- nutely and engaged in converstion with him. "'You are going to Europe to complete your educa- tion," she said. "Do you speak the languages?" "German, madam, intelligibly, and a very little French." "You are' quite accomplished; you will go into society, then?" "Society, madam?" "Yes! yes! into the beau monde, the elite, the, the- "The upper-ten, the nabobs, the big guns," ex- claimed Mr. Oates. "' No, madam,"- answered Applegate, blushing scar- - let, "I am a poor student, travelling with staff and bundle. I shall try toxbe content'with knowing only the poor and humble; and- that I may prolong my little means, I have taken a steerage passage upon this ship." "Come here, Bolivar Oates," cried Mrs. Oates, with undisguised contempt, "you share'your father's partial ity for low company. Titus Oates, you would be in your element in the steerage also." JThe good lady dragged Bolivar after her by main - force, and the contractor, who seemed wounded by hei rudeness, tried to say something apologetic i bkut it was 27 TTVE CONTRACTOR'S FAMLY. plain that he, too, had been surprised by the steerage discovery, s o that Applegate bade him good-daY rwent forward to his own kennel. i] - 4An page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] 28 BELOVED ON SHPBOARD. CHAPTER IH. BELOVED ON SHPBOARD. TiE pitching of the ship, now fairly at sea, had, pro . duced the usual effects upon the passengers. The greater number were sick in their berths, others were reeling across the floors; the stench was intolerable; it looked like a plague-scene, or a man-of-war's cockpit after an engagement. Dinner was oready at two o'clock, and' the few who had not succumbed came forward with their tin plates and cups. *A wretched ragout of odds and ends of meat, called a "Sea Pie," was served, with potatoes boiled in their skins, and a decoction of chiccory, which assisted the ship's motion. At last Applegate felt dizziness overcome him; he crept to his room, though the atmosphere of the place was poisoned crawling into his berth lay down, ghastly pale, and listened to the beating of .the sea. In a moment he felt himself bitten from head to foot by vermin; they came upon him by multitudes; they spared no particle of his body; they were not to be satisfied or intimidated; if he sprang from his placefor agotly, he was compelled to return for weakness. Night came, and the wind called up the sea. The steamer rose and fell like a feather in a hurricane; the great screw seemed a bolt driven through the head of every I .! BELOVED ON SHPBOARD. *' sufferer. They heard the seamen rallying on deck; the lamp's light struggled feebly across the heaving floors and ceiling; the cries of the sick struck the minutes 'n the darkness, and Applegate compared the night to t e immortality of Prometheus, with the vulture's beak in his vitals. When the morning looked wanly in, through the steerage hatchways, Applegate raised upon his elbow, but could not stand upon his feet. He bethought him of a flask of brandy which he had brought on board, and reaching it from the sack beneath his pillow, pressed it with feverish eagerness to his lips. It was dry as thirst. Some villain had emptied it while he slept. He caught the evasive eye of the thick-set Irishman beside him, and read its defiant guilt. The knife-grinder upon the other side, who was also half upright, and running his fingers through his matted locks, grinned silently at Applegate's disappointment; and several, more remote, who were observant of the incident, laughed brutally, as at a merry joke. "You took my watch last night," cried one of these, a tall, wild-eyed person, who wore a very singular blan- ket, like a leopard's skin. Applegate saw that the man looked directly at him, and he rubbed his eyes to provettheir testimony good. "Do you speak to me, sir?" said Applegate. "Yes, to you. I charge you with stealing my watch. You slipped out of your berth at midnight and took it from under my head, but when I awoke you opened that window there and dropped it into the sea.' Applegate's pale cheek flushed with indignation, and then grew pale with fear. The man was evidently in page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] 6 U BELOVED ON SHPBOARD. earnest.. -He pointed to the circular window with a long, quivering finger, and repeated the accusation in a loud, passionate tone, "Who stole a watch?" echoed many, lifting their heads. "That man," shouted the wild-eyed person, calling the attention of all to Applegate, who trembled and grew faint to blindness; "he is a thief! he means to steal my money; he tried to steal my blanket; he will steal all the watches, moneys and blankets upon the ship."e "Lie down," cried a clear, ringing voice, the owner whereof emerged from the lower tier of berths and con- fronted the accuser. He was a young Englishman, de- cently clothedsand he put his hand upon the other's shoulder and shook him smartly. "You are crazy," he said,; here is your watch in your boot. I have been observing you since we came on shipboard; you are sick with the delirium trenzens." t Clear the bunks!" shouted a stout mapn sailor's -dress, bounding into the chamber and flourishing a rope's end. ",All hands go on deck." The man proceeded to strike without ceremony to right and left. He neither parleyed nor discriminated. Some he dragged from their berths, and some he beat till they clambered down and obeyed. Over head and face and back he laid the rope's end heavily. The short, combative Irishman turned to drop a sullen threat, and the sailor knocked him down with his fist. --Applegate, who had not understood the order, was the last to leave his place; he was deathly sick, and groped along the passage-way with limbs bending beneath BELOVED ON SHPBOARD. 31 him. The sailor pushed him forward with an oath; his - head struck the door-way as he fell, and the blood gushed i from his nose and mouth and dabbled his brown hairs. XIB When he awoke to consciousness the fresh air was blowing coolly upon his forehead; hi4 head lay upon the soft lap of a woman, and the man who had behaved so !brutally bent over him with a look of grim commis- eration. "I didn't know him for a boy," said the latter awk- wardly. "I never strike boys nor wimmem. But it is Oone o' the ship's regulations to drive all hands on deck, and I find blowas more expeditious than argeyments. S'pose you all lay there and the yaller fever breaks out among ye- sa-a-y!" The mate poured raw spirits down Applegate's throat when he had done, and so having strangled him effectu- ally, raised him to his feet, and slapping his back to prove that he was "sound as a porpoise," had very nearly been the end of him, indeed. Applegate lay so pleasantly in the folds of his patron's robe, that he kept his eyes closed for a little while, and felt her soft palm upon his temples and her breath fan- ning his locks. It was like a dream of the mother whose protection he had never known, of the sister who was drifting away with every revolution of the wheel, of the undiscovered sweetheart who should some day stand for both, and kiss from his soul the shadow of his orphanhood. i! It was a fair, florid face that Applegate saw: blue eyes swimming with pity, ripe lips and bright tresses, - one of the few German countenances which were soft rather than intense, but preserved the susceptibility which page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] 32 BELOVED ON SHPBOARD. constitutes-the true Teuton charm; rising to eloquence when earnest, full of gentleness and dignity in repose. She was a young girl, not older than himself, but more compactly and durably set, and courage and self-reliance gave her- features a masculine force. She wore a plain robe, neatly fitting; her head was bare, and a small silver-gilt stiletto was fastened in the braids of her hair. "If you could walk for a little time," she said, in her native tongue, "it would be well." "I think I might," answered Applegate, "if you would let me lean upon your arm." \ They wound in and out among their co-voyageurs, talking as they went, and Applegate felt all the romance of love-making in foreign speech. Whatever is coarse, harsh or ignorant, seems not so to him who crosses for the first time the boundary of his own language. He is a prattler only; his companion is a woman. He has the surprise of being appreciated, understood; he may say bold things, but they lose the abruptness of his own vernacular; and if he offends, his apology is in- experience. Thoughts, sentiments, seem less formal, more spiritual, because they have discarded their old encasements, and the beginner has all the tremulous delight of the disciple who followed his Master upon the water and found that he could walk. , So seemed it to Applegate Shrink, telling delicious commonplaces to Margaretha, whose unexpected ac- quaintance had made the ship so cheery. If he was repelled at first by the idea of a woman in the terrible a/r steerage, he remembered that'he was a passenger nof the same class. There was no contamination in her BELOVED ON SHPBOARD. 33 face. Her blue eyes were as innocent, her manners as soft, as if she dwelt in a state-room. He fancied, with a sensitive boy's conceit,-that they two were the prince and princess, whom-fate had placed for a space among the wretched. It became them, therefore, to bear well , their altered fortunes, and Applegate asked Margaretha gayly how she endured the hardships of the voyage. Her reply overthrew his conceit; she had never been a princess. a "Oht I have made it before, and am used to it. -My parents, my brother and I crossed from Fatherland to America six years ago; we were poor then, and came in the steerage of a sailing vessel; I am poorer now, but go home in the steerage of a steamer." H And where are father, mother and brother?' m' Father is dead; mother lies beside him; brother is a soldier in the army. He has given me money, and I am to return to our native village. We have not done well in your country." , . Where is your village, Margaretha?" '"On the banks of the Rhine; it is called Bingen." Appleogate's cheek flushed to p rple, and his eyes were bright with enthusiasm. He remembered the Hsimple ballad of the Soldier of Bingen, and he likened i Margaretha to the sister who was adjured to hang the old sword upon the cottage wall. She had never heard the ballad, and he repeated a, stanza:- ': Tell my sister not to weep for me, nor sob with drooping head, When the troops come marching home again with glad and gal. lant tread; page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] L"u Ad yw oist-tUAKD But to look upon them proudly, with a calm and steadfast eye, For her brother was a soldier, too, and not afraid to die." tMargatetha's eyes filled with tears. ," Poor Max," she said, "he is farther off than Algiers; his comrades will never file through the streets of Bingen; there will truly be dearth of woman's tears and parting if he should die so far from Fatherland." Applegate felt her arm lean tremulously, half confid- ingly iupon him; he felt very much stronger, and would have liked to climb to the masthead, or leap overboard, or do some other impossible thing. He had the courage for any desperate essay, but that of folding his arm about the plump, round waist of Margaretha, whom he respected now almost to reverence. They leaned upon the rail at the deckasie, and saw the, far- land winding hazily against the blight sky. They spoke of the fishing-boats and the dangers of the Northern coast. A little, weary bird perched upon the steamer, as if the war had driven it from its nest also and Margaretha fed it with crumbs; for which inl return 'it chirped them a pretty song, and then departed into the spray, landward, as if no conscription nor misery could reconcile it to exile. "You didn't like America?" said Applegate. "Oh, yes!we had German country-folk, and a pleas- ant house; but we could not grow rich. I think we were too slow for America. We all worked hard and perseveringly, but our neighbors, who took less pains, outstripped us; they traded and speculated and fol- lowed- a hundred pursuits at once. In Germany they keep at one thing, and so did we; perhaps it was + BELIED ON SHPBOARD. 5 wrong. At last father wearied out with ague and over- work, and died; mother prepared to leave America, but did not live to quit it; my brother became a sergeant of cavalry; and I am the relic to carry our rrow to Bingen." Here they went to breakfast. Applegate and Mar- garetha sat together at the table, and helped each other with great zest and merriment. The steerage looked much more bright, comfortable and airy now to Apple- gate. The extraneous talk was certainly coarse, and it would have been preferable to hear less singing at breakfast. If the knife-grinder had used his fork in- stead of his fingers it would have been pleasanter, but then he wiped them on his hair. Why did all the mothers in the ship suckle their infants at the table) and why did the infants suckle and squall at the same time? Nay, why did so many sick people come to breakfast at all, and why did so many who came to breakfast get sick immediately afterward? The young Englishman, who had so opportunely helped Applegate in the morning, sat opposite Marga- retha. He was the most respectable person in the steerage, and had fine, manly features, expressive of good-humor; while his address was so hearty, that it won everybody to like him. He spoke German with Margaretha, and then turning to Applegate paid her a compliment iqf pure French. "You are a doctor, sir," cried Applegate. "Oh, no," answered the stranger; "I have neither trade nor profession; 'a waif, an estray, a poor devil' who has walked over both worlds and picked up noth. ing." page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] , -i- - 36 BELOVED ON SaIPBOARD. Applegate liked him the better for this; because vaga. bondage was for the time being both their careers. "I have seen your singular country," exclaimed the stranger, "from the Atlantic to the Pacific, from the lakes to the gulf coast, as your political orators say. I have been in South-America, in the Sandwich Islands, in British America,--everywhere. I was born at sea. I have been an aeronaut, a fireman in a loconmotive, a sailor before the mast, a soldier and a deserter. I am going to tramp up and down Europe for a year or two to come. "That is my intention," cried Applerate, impul- sively. Indeed," answered the Englishman, with a laugh; "then let us go together." Margaretha touched Applegate's hand beneath the table, and he changed the theme without committing himself. The stranger, whose name was Holt, kept upon good terms with both of them, however, and was popular with all the steerage people. He told Apple- gate many incidents, dangerous and humorous; and though his principles upon most affairs appeared trifling or undetermined, he was capital company, and had learned much by his voyages. Applegate intimated -as much to Margaretha as they walked on deck, and she replied gravely:-- "He is wise and laughing, as you say, but in Europe one must not make acquaintances rashy. They are particularly doubtful, whom you find crossing the sea. 'All who are bad, desperate or wretched come to Amer- ica. Suppose you should travel with some political BELOVED ON SHPBOARD. 37 exile; if he were discovered you might share his pun- ishment." Applegate thanked his friend, but, seeing nothing Cb- jectionable in Mr. Holt, thought covertly that Marga- retha might be of a suspicious or whimsical nature. *He knew her to be truthful and good, however. She moved among the rude women of the steerage like a spirit whom their stained hands could not touch. T all their foul words she was deaf; she spoke only to a few, who were sick and friendless; but with-Applegate her relations were always familiar. She washed his plate and knife after dinner, and passed her leisure i embroidering a case for his thin silver watch. page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] , i;88 a A NIGHT'S PERIL. o:: foundland,-- the bleak Cape Race, with its solitary -light-house, its cottage and its telegraph station The i r - ' ' I 1^ . T with no green thing upon its banks, poured into the despatch for Europe, was Ulysses and his crew escaping from a horrible captivity. "That is the flag of my country, Margaretha," said Appiegate, indicating a streamin thing upon the tele. raph hou se; "it waves Us farew ell. Is it not beauti- f'l?" Sadly so," esaid the girl, looking wearily te hrouh the Wind. 'To us who are poor, all countsries are as one; it costs many a brave life to keep anyflag waving. Doyu never hope, dear friend, f or a time when all flrgs shall be put away?" apoYes, all but-- but that one," cried Applegate. "They say th e same all over the world," responded despatch V forL Euoe asUyssandhs rw sapn A NIGHT'S PEIL.. 39 - Margaretha; "that is why there is so much poverty and sorrow.' i ^ Dear Margaretha," he made answer in a low tone, ( you are sad because you have no friends, yet you are brave and trusting, I am sure; let me be a dear friend to you." "Are you not so?" she asked, in the same subdued voice. "Yes, yes, but you must give me leave; you must l be to me the friend that I shall be to you. I am poor \ and wandering as you are. I felt you step into the va- cant place of my life, when we first spoke. I was no longer an orphan; my youth had a hope, a purpose- it was to gain your love." "I think you won it in part, when you lay bleeding on my lap," she said. "We do not choose these things, -it is something within us stronger than we; that something tells me that I love you, dear friend." Her hand, which he had taken unwittingly, lay very calmly in his palm. He had not known that the pos- session of any trifling thing could seem of so much val- ue. He put it round his body, when he had taken courage, and clasped it upon his heart, which beat quick and happily. Yet it was not he who seemed the pro- tector, the, defender, the strong one; it was she who was so much braver and wiser. He looked, so, silently upon the receding coast, silvery in the twilight. They lit the great lantern in the tower, as he turned to go be- low; and so felt Applegate Shrink, that the soft hand Iwhich he held had reached into his heart, and kindled there a light, a flame, a passion. page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] 40 i ' ' NIGHT'S -PERIL. ' The steerage was' foul and dismal as ever shen he descended, but he felt more willing, if not stronger, to endure it. The Yorkshiremen sang in their harsh dia- lect of "Polly going o'er the mountain;" a young i Irishman in another place was playing ' The Harp of , Tara's halls," upon an accordeon; the short-set fellow, very drunk, was dancing a jig with a young country- woman of his, who, in reference to her obesity, was called the "Great Eastern;" a sailor and a passenger were boxing not far off; and the lamp, streaming through the bar, fell upon the faces of a knot of folks who were drinking together with great demonstrative- ness. Applegate and Margaretha took a bottle of stout, and pledged each other in a far corner before they said good- night. He wondered if she were happy as he, when she disappeared over her threshold. The matted locks and grisly grin of the knife-grinder beside him were posi- tively excellences now. 'He hardly remarked the evil eye of the man in the opposite berth, who lay wrapped in his leopard-skin, with his head alert; he only shut. his lashes and clasped some shadow in his arms, and built a thousand airy ladders, which rested in the dark steerage, but reached into the bright heaven. Applegate slept - fitfully at first; and now and then he wakened, between the finks of sleep, and rubbed his eyes' to recollect if his plight was a reality or a dream. The great steamer rolled and rumbled upon the ocean. It had been of little consequence last night, whether she lived or went down; but to lose life would be agony now--it would be sinking from heaven. At last by A NIGHT'S PERIL. 41 sheer weariness he slumbered deeply; but, though he did not dream, there was a presence in his sleep; not even death could divorce that from him, though death was closer than he believed. He was awakened by something which crushed him, as by a great weight. It seemed that the ship had righted up, and fallen over upon him; he could, not breathe; his heart had ceased to beat; his terror was even greater than his pain. Hle was being carried for- ward, for he saw the rows of berths pass by in the fitful lamp-glare, and as he crossed the threshold the great hall appeared deserted and the doors of all the sleeping rooms wide open. He could hear the snore-of the sleep- ers, the striking of the ship's bell on deck, and the watchman's cry of "All's well." He could even hear the stealthy pace of the being in whose arms he lay. He knew now that it was a human-hand which held his throat in its iron throttle; he struggled to cry out, but the words could not shape themselves. Not even an empty breath fell on the night, to alarm one of the hun- . dred folks who slumbered so near by. A multitude of thoughts rushed upon him. What mystery of the sea was this, that he, a weak, uncoa- scious boy, should be dragged from his bed, with a gag upon his mouth, by some one whom he did not know, whom he had never harmed, who could have had only one purpose for crime, - the little gold which he car- ried? Applegate felt all perception and power glide from him. A word, the reddest, and darkest and most dreadful which men take upon their lips, seemed' shouted on the still midnight, so that none but he could hear; it was murder, murder, MURDER! page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] 42 A NIGHT'S PERIL. The pressure was removed; he breathed again. The stars glittered above him, as if striving to reflect them- selves in the long rolls of the ocean; he saw the sparks and cinders trailing from the huge smoke-stack, And the path of white foam., shimmering astern, churned by the screw from the water. He was upon the deck, and stood face to face with his nocturnal enemy. A pair of wild eyes were turned upon his own; a form wrapped in a robe like a leopard's skin, and barehaired, rose shivering in the night. The creature was stark mad, and pinned himto the ship's side with a strong, unequal hand. "Give up my watch!" he said; "you cannot brazen it out now; we are alone, and I am your master!" Applegate tried to speak, but fear held him dumb; he only marked the red eyeballs, the pale, :working face, the fine brow encasing a brain brim full of illu- sions, "I will send you into the sea for my watch," whis- pered the lunatic. "You know well where to find it, for you have hid it there. But you must not take cold; I will wrap my leopard-skin around you." He folded the thick blanket about Applegate, with a quick, violent action, and lifted him far aloft with his head bent over the waves. The boy cast a last glance across the white deck. The mates were striding the bridge; the seamen on the lookout were unconscious of his peril. He could not scream; he could not say 1'. God save me!"He felt the nearness of the waters, and the spray which they tossed upon him, and bowed himself for the deadly baptism. Was Applegate mad also, or was it an illusion, -the A NIGHT8' PERIL. 43 woman's shape which glided through the steerage hatch- way, and stopped as if thrilled, with her face turned upon him? "Margaretha!" he cried,--a gurgle rather than a word. She called his name and hastened to his rescue. With the coming of hope his own power returned; he- felt her hands upon him, drawing him from the impend- ing danger, and he himself made a boy's effort for life; though the madman, wrought up by excitement to superhuman strength, clutched his throat in a blinding throttle. A seaman, whom the girl's screams had sum- moned, hurled the assailant to the deck; while Apple- gate, pressed to the bosom of his guardian spirit, felt the stars and the sea sink into blackness; he had life, but not intelligence. D .- } a .i page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] " THE NEW LADY PASSENGER. CHAPTER V. THE NEW LADY PASSENGER. ,A stmpis a sort of small village, inhabited by gossips. It has its upper set and its lower set; but now and then some eventful thing agitates its whole population. Such was the attempted assassination of a boy by a crazy man, which was told from bowsprit to rudder with many variations and additions. Nonsense 1 " said the ship's surgeon; "I have crossed the Atlantic eighty odd times, and have had a case of delrium tremens every trip. The man-with-the-poker -is the captain of the steerage." The passengers, however, who were crossing the ocean for the first time, thought it was a very grave affair. They begged the surgeon to take them forward, and looked at the unfortunate man through a window and poked walking-sticks at him, and barked and crowed, and made cries imitative of all the beasts of the field; so that even a sane person might have lost his wits from sheer vexation. The man had drunk hard before embarking, and abrupt abstention, added perhaps to sea-sickness, had hastened delirium. The little room in which they con- fined him was peopled with horxors now. Applegate, who lay in the ship's hospital near by, could hear the THE NEW LADY PASSENGER. 43 madman howling of nights, his curses and prayers com- mingled, when the winds were high, and the rain and the waves drenched the decks; and then Applegate trembled with fear, and drew Gretchen's hands upon his face. He had the whole hospital,--a narrow room, one deck higher than the steerage, and far forward between the bows, but very clean and comfortable. She was beside him every day, sewing or reading, or doing some kindness, and her blue eyes were softer than pity as they looked upon him. She loved him the more for his misfortunes. "The boy has a slight attack of nervous fever," said' the surgeon; " he is very delicately organized; small things affect him; danger or trouble breaks him down. He lwould be a girl but for his enthusiasm. We have just such a case on every steamer out; little fellows without bodily powers, undertaking to tramp up and down Europe. God knows how they end; I only know that they fall into my hands in the beginning." Holt, the young Englishman, -came to see Applegate twice or thrice, making the sick-room merrywith his recitations. Some cabin passengers looked in once, through curiosity, and among them Mr. Titus Oates, who recognized Applegate, and gave his hand a hearty shake. "I reckon you got something you did not contract for," said Mr. Oates, alluding to Applegate's fever; "but don't be discouraged, young pathfinder; hang on I -that's the secret of success." ApPlegate thanked him very much, but smiled at his I odd manner. , ; - i page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] " .TSFHE NEW LADY PASSENGER. It Hang on!" continued the contractor, --"I always did. A How many times have 'T been ordered out of the War Department, the- Navy Yard, the Patent Office! I went out, but I came back.- They couldn't scare me; I wasn't ashamed. 'Gentlemen,' says I, 'you may hang me up, but I mean to hang on.' By the way," said Mr. Oates, changing the theme, "I wonder what it costs to keep up such a hospital?" ' Shall you stay some time ih Europe, sir?" asked Applegate. "That depends," answered Mr. Oates, shaking his cable seal and shutting one eye. "I go to Belgium for rifles; if these old fogy governments want any jobs done up I may consent to stay among 'em a while. There are only two places worth seeing in Europe, however." "What are those, sir?" asked Applegate. "Suez, which happens to be in Africa, and .Mount Cenis; the big canal and the big tunnel." Here, Master Bolivar Oates, who had been making faces at the crazy man, came into the hospital with his nose bleeding. "There is an ornament to society," said Mr. Oates. "Who bled you, Bolivar?" "Athig fellar in the steerage," said Bolivar Oates. "He licked me; wait till I catch him ashore." "I am afraid, boy," remarked Mr. Oates, "that you did not look into the conditions before you entered : l:pni your contract Keep out of your mother's hands though." Yung Bolivar wiped his nose upon his father's pocket- handkerchief, and proceeded to roll marbles up and X' -. ] ^ - * . - ' . ^ 1 THE NEW LADY PASSENGER. 47 down the floor. The elder Oates going out at this juncture, and the boy making quite too much noise for Applegate's comfort, Bolivar was induced to enter into conversation, and talked with all his father's freedom 'for several minutes. : His limited life appeared to have been unlimited in the number of its quarrels. He had inherited his moth-1 er's ambition and his father's pertinacity. A certain great conqueror is said to have planned battles in' "the nursery; Bolivar fought them there; he graduated a gladiator and made an arena of the street. It did not seem that he was uniformly victorious; but that made no difference. His hard and somewhat grimy hands were abundantly scarred, and he went over them with great facility, telling the incident of each wound. He had unmeasured contempt for Europe, whose ex- istence he thought derogatory to his own nationality; and so little reverence for his mamma as to wish she had been left at home. "Society!" said Bolivar, with much emphasis; " what. : does me and Pop care for society? Mar got us all in vited to an Ambassador's ball, in Washington. I war, in Highland costume; the Ambassador's pages had their hairs curled. If Mar had not sent me away, I X would have wholloped 'em." ^ With all the boy's pugnacity, he had yet candor and generosity. For Applegate he evinced much good-will, and was partial to Margaretha's society. He played jackstraws with her, and smuggled fruit and pastry from the cabin-table, that she might share them. , "Applegate," cried Bolivar one day, opening his very . gray eyes, "are you going to marry Gretchen?" iVUi:f i page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] : to TIlHE NEW LADY PASSENGER. Applegate blushed as he looked into her soft, calm face, and reached out his pale hand, which she put to her lips. "I don't know, Bolivar," he said;" it is a great favor to be allowed to love her." "If you don't marry her, Applegate, I mean to; but you shall have her, if you like." "What do you think, dear friend," said Applegate to ! the girl, speaking German; " are you not sorry that we have known each other? How, indeed, shall we ever be happy, both so poor, and I so weak and timid?" "Shall we not be happy in being faithful?" she an- swered. "Is it nothing to have found some one worthy of loving - nothing to be beloved? Why need we look so far forward and despair? Look at the present and be glad. I am with you; I shall be with you when you are alone; I shall believe in the coming of a bright- er day. If it does not arrive, I shall be thankful for the hope I cherished of it." "Good heart!," cried Applegate, regarding her fond- ly, " lend me of your better nature, for I am ungrate- ful and discontented. Your words give me joy and courage; I would that I could trust to fate as I shall have trust in you." X When Mr. Titus Oates made his second visit to Ap- plegate, he was accompanied by Miss Kent, a young American lady who had made the acquaintance of the fnamily of Oates, and meant to travel with them. She , had been a music-teacher, and was understood to be going to Italy to perfect herself in the Italian language, with the ultimate ambition of appearing in opera. She sat upon a stool in the little, bare hospital, and placed her hand familiarly upon Applegate's temples, I and tilling a cigarette from a tobacco-bag which she car- q ried, proceeded to smoke with great nonchalance, talk- ing the while. Holt, the young Englishman, standing by, was bold enough to join in the conversation; but so farfrom feeling offended, she replied in terms of equal- ity, and laughed with the rest at his shrewd sayings. Applegate had never known a lady with sentiments so original, or manners so free from conventionalism. Her philosophy was that of letting people do as they please. Nothing surprised her; the only essential traits, she said, were sincerity and moral courage. They I opened -a bottle of wine, whichTitus Oates presented to : Applegate, and. Miss Kent proposed a toast:- "The chaplain. - With that good man on board, the . ship cannot sink. " As she and Margaretha were sitting side by side, Ap- plegate had a fine opportunity to contrast them. They - , were of 'the same complexion and stature, equally robust, and, at a superficial glance, of not dissimilar features. Margaretha wore a gray woollen robe, a plain white col- b lar, a dark apron, and no other ornament but the little - stiletto which pierced her braided tresses. Miss Kent's dress was of brown plaided silk; -her wristhands and collar were finely wrought; a handsome watch was re- vealed beneath her belt, and her head was protected by a brown " flat," or hat of straw. The eyes of both were blue. Miss Kent had the ruddier cheeks; her lips were fiesh like Margaretha's, but the expression of the faces was widely different. Margaretha w&s a girl,-patient, submissive, content; Miss Kent's was a man's spirit chafing within her woman's robes. The one was rever- * I ' ' ' page: 50-51[View Page 50-51] ;50 THE NEW LADY PASSENGER. ent, accepting her weak estate with thankfulness, and holding her modesty as her life'; the other was impa- tient -of restraint. She professed what were called "advanced opinions;" what she dared wish, she dared do. She meant to go to and fro in Europe, unadvised, unprotected; and her sympathy had been called to Ap- plegate, since he had come abroad to see the world, though poor and friendless. As Applegate marked her clear eye, lit up with en- thusiasm; the half curl of her rather over-ripe lip, and the broad-based but mobile chin, seldom firm or at rest, ne wondered if in the real crises of life,--poverty, disease, old age, temptation, - that same moral courage which she praised so eloquently would serve Miss -Kent, as it might serve the simple German girl sewing at her side. She was certainly very clever. Margaretha had somewhat of the German dulness; but Miss Kent was all brightness, intelligence, life. "You are to see the world on foot," she said. "Oh, that I were a man, with boots, a knapsack, a flask of brandy, and a stout strap! You will lie down in glens and copses, pass battle-fields in the starlight, drink cool beer in village inns, and sing snatches from Korner and Schiller as-you climb the mountains." Applegate flushed at the recall of his old dreams. "See I'" cried Miss Kent, "how I have brought sun- shine to his cheeks. Is he not brave and handsome?" And she blew the smoke from her white teeth, and bent forward, and kissed him. : - Applegate blushed to scarlet. Miss Kent only lautghed at his bashfulness, and Margaretha worked very eralestly, noither smiling nor speaking. Nor aid Mar- : ' * ' . . i . THE NaEW LADY PASSENGER. 5i garetha speak of Miss Kent at any time, though the lat- ter came often to see Applegate, and- talked to them both in her brisk, individual way. She was kind, bringing books and sweetmeats at every visit. Once she read a poem of her own composition, called "Leda,"9 which seemed to be sufficiently sensuous, though it was not plain what she precisely meant. i After three days Applegate recovered strength and spirits; the surgeon permitted him to sleep in the hos- pital, where he was not troubled with vermin as below, but he ate at the common table in the steerage, and re- sumed his intimacy with its inhabitants. Some of these improved in condition as he knew them better; others developed quaint traits of habit or history; but the mass were depraved, wretched and repulsive as he at first conceived them. It was an odd exhibition when- Sunday came, and the chief steward gravely invited all hands to attend service in the cabin. The stanch Catholics read Weir prayer-books, and reviled those of their own faith who went; but curiosity to see the, cabin overcame even the scrupulous. Rare old coats A and hats were dragged from unfathomable chests; boots' were scraped and polished; huge silver and copper watches, like sun-dials, made their appearance, and col- lars were mounted which might have patched the main- sail. It was noticed that with the old gentlemen the : ,garments commonly lacked material; with the young ones there was an excess. Here went a tall man whose i skirts reached to the small of his back; there a pigmy whose heels peeped out belodw, to mock'his redundancy of cloth; in places, a satin vest, magnificent with buttons of tarnished gilt, recalled ao'me old, man's wedding-day; , . ' '1:: ., , , sf] page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] 52 - THE AUEW LADY' PASSERNGER. and a few wore knee-breeches and buckles, in which the shrunken limbs limped ungainly; they were folk for whom the fever of life was over, and who were carrying their bones to the graves of their Fatherland. In ridiculous procession, some grave, some smirking, some ashamed, the steerage filed abaft the funnel, and dispersed itself upon 'benches in the cabin, where the first-class passengers and the seamen were already as- sembled. Applegate felt mean in such company and on such a day. There sat Mrs. Oates, majestic in lace and silk, with her fingers invisible in diamonds, keeping down young Bolivar, who looked savagely at the chaplain. Mr. Oates, beside her, seemed so very angular and gristly and hard-favored, that Applegate likened him to the famous Gordian knot which had to be cut before it could be smoothed out. They read the beautiful prayers of the Episcopal Lit- urgy, and the psalms floated out on the wide sea and up to God, who kept it calm. : "Oh!" thought Applegate, .if they would pray and sing only in their churches, how few would go to sleep!"' There was no doubt that the chaplain said many good things,-that was his business;.but Applegate :wished they only would say something to express the - emotions of the day, -his thankfulness, his feebleness, his love,hisi hope; something human; the cry of some s jheart; the yearning of some poor, timid being for more patience, more strength; the fashioning into speech of the calmness of the waters, the clearness of the skies, the music of the winds; the utterance of seme spell- THE NtEW LADY PASSENGER. 53 word to make God apparent to those who felt his near- I ness, as the mariner's halloo in the poem brought the holy albatross. The chaplain said nothing to -make one think or feel. The sermon was a dull thing, like the rumble of the screw; but not half so suggestive. In the midst of it, Applegate, looking aside, caught the fine face of Miss Kent, its bright eyes full of scorn, and mockery upon its tempting lip. He wondered if she believed what the clergyman was saying. . 's j l page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] 54. ASHORE IN ENGLAND. CHAPTER VI. ASHORE IN ENGLAND. AND all this time the steamer went on. Men slept, and dreamed, and rose, and slept again; but the ship went on. The-fleetest fishes tired of its pursuit; the winds gave chase, but lacked breath, and fell astern; the waves heaped themselves against the bows; the rain deluged the decks; fogs covered the surface of the sea, and the nights came in their order; but the ship went on. At last, on the twelfth evening out, a red, rayless eye threw q solid glare through a pitchy darkness. It was the Old World. In the morning they steamed along the cliffs of England. Applegate beheld them with enthusiasm and regret. He was to leave Mar- garetha; young Holt and he were to make an excursion along the English sea-coast; her destination lay farther on; they must say good-by. "Dear friend," "he -said, "for a little while I shall not see you. I owe you my life; you shall keep my heart till I redeem it.: We will meet at Bingen; yoii will write to me at Antwerp." -he took a little packet from her bosom and placed it' -his hand. ;It is all I have to give," she returned; "but you will need nothing to remember me." ASHORE IN ENGLAND. 55 It was the stiletto whereby she secured'her tresses, and a bright lock of hair. f! "In Fatherland all young maidens wear that token; it tells that they can be wooed, being unbetrothed. When they are to marry, the man who is to defend their honor guards the stiletto for them. It is yours, my friend." ! Appleton placed in her hand his silver watch-key. "There shall be no time of mine," he replied, " which :i you shall not keep. You have well said that we are young. I shall know no days, no weeks, no'years, till R I have won enough for you and me. I shall not know ; that I am growing old till I have claimed you; my work shall be like Jacob's, who wrought seven years for his uncle's daughter, and they seemed to him a day.". "O sanguine Applegate!" said Margaretha, with a smile; "may your harvest be one half your hope." He saw her bright eyes at the ship's side --his ow e were full of tears; she waved her hand as the tug bore him toward the shore; he did not see Miss Kent, nor the Oateses, nor the surgeon, though they all cried "fare- . well." To the last the white hand fluttered, and as the ship disappeared from view he turned to contemplate the beautiful harbor, and thought it very cold and dull. "That Dutch girl was soft upon you, Shrink,". said Holt, in his laughing way; " you must have had a good time of it."' Applegate looked up angrily. "Please speak less rudely next time," he replied. They landed at Southampton quay, amidst the usual . : din and duns and policemen. The steerage people were obliged to wait by the partialiinspectors, until all : :)?i page: 56-57[View Page 56-57] i - 56 ASHORE IN ENGLAND.9l the baggage of the cabin folks had been examined; but Iolt, who knew his countrymen, slipped a sixpence to an attendants and the trunks of both were marked- and -passed with great servility. While the man was pro- b'mg the portmanteaus, Applegate, glancing'over his shoulder, saw a tall, attenuated figure, with a face almost ghostly in-its pallidness, and wrapped in a robe like a leopard's skin, turning a blood-shotten eye upon Holt. It was the maniac. Applegate doubted if the man were convalescent, as had been said, when he caught the fearful intenseness of the stare, the quivering hands and the glooininess of the fine forehead. Yet it was not the wild, weird countenance which had frozen himself with horror on the night of his betrothals rather the roused passion of a sane man, nursing up some ven- geance, and brought, unawares, face to face with his enemy. :He followed'Holt with his dark countenance as they passed up the quay to the cab-stand, and Applegate, who held him in a deadly fear, clutched Holt's arm and drew attention to the stranger. The eyes of the two met in a long, fixed grapple; the sense of both, retain- ing some past impression, sought to call up the recol- lection; but Holt, after a pause, said shortly, "I ought to know that fellow; something in his face drew my attention the first day on shipboard; but I cannot place him." : .e flung hiiself into a carriage as he spoke, and Aplegate saw the man in the leopard's skin stamp his : oa:di lift his clenched right hand and rush up the : iaii sif insome mad pu wrsut. :: :Tey found 'a modest hotel, where the charge* ASHORE IN ENGLAND, 57 ] seemed sufficient, and having bathed, eaten, prome- : naded, and- slept, their trunks set out by rail in the morning for Antwerp, via London; and the two friends went eastward on foot, each with a staff and a bundle. :i Behold, then, Applegate Shrink, as light-hearted as one can be who has just lost his first mistress, in the full realization of his favorite pedestrianism, and in a ' country well adapted to its patient pace! Other lands are more beautiful in parts; but England is a continu- ous delight. There are no monotonous stretches along : its green lanes; with its dense population, it is not void : of solitudes. Each turn of the high road gives a new: sensation; a day's march presents something to arouse every emotion of the mind; yet over all there is that humid atmosphere which softens the herbage and the grass, clothes each view in marvellous perspective, and imparts to the eye and the mind its own freshness and repose. Now they passed some old manor, where cattle, which seemed to know their blood, grazed in the rich pastures, and the bells on the necks of the sheep frightened the hares and pheasants, lying thickly in the clover. The lodges at the roadside wereso covered :I by flowers and ivy that nature, not man, should have been their architect; and the mansion stood far back,' flanked by grand elms, which half hid the quaintness of its FRlizabethian roofs and gables; across the lawn dashed a riding party, perhaps, -proud men and beau- tiful women, with grooms in livery at their back; while a lake or stream, lying near at hand, reflected the landscape. i * . * . * - 'i 1I page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] 58' ASHORE IN ENGLAND, - Now they plunged into some dark forest, where the odks grew high and spreading, and the silence of mid- night lay upon the shadows of the moss, except when the deer bounded through the covert, or rooks from the near dwelling made guttural cries, as of omen. They had prophets, indeed, when, farther on, some wide heath lay at the roadside, and rising in bold out- line against the white horizon of the sea, clustered the gypsy camp a tent, a "caravan " or car - a fire and a grimy pot--great bearded, swarthy men, playing cards or singing, and an old woman, with eyes like burning coals, who came down to meet the pedestrians with her mouth full of lies or curses. Furze bushes, bearing bright yellow flowers, spangled the waste; and on the acclivities some wind- mill glowered like a thing bereaved, and wrung its mighty hands. To these alternated hamlets, where beneath the swinging tavern-signs great wains lay smoking; and the drivers, quaffing ale from pewter tankards, chaffered with barmaids at the window. There were farm cotta- ges again, with thatched roofs, and thatched barns and stacks; and Norman churches, whose stone towers stood guard over encampments of grave-slabs. and l now and then a ruined castle, which the dark ivy had scaled even to its massive battlements, and hurled them down, in picturesque confusion, so that the owl and the bat built their nests in the rents, and the hawks, perched upon the portal, glared at the fisher- menfs sails in the ocean beneath. There were often stiles and footpaths to shorten the way* the hedges of haw and blackthorn were cool and ASHORE IN ENGLAND. 59 : perfumed, and the first day passed with so much that' was novel and beautiful, that Applegate thought it the happiest of his life. When he woke on the second day, however, with chafed ankles and every muscle of his body sore as if bruised, he felt that walking in foreign countries was quite as laborious as walking in his own. Holt struck out with a long stride, which put Applegate upon a trot to keep up to it; the tender places upon his feet soon became blisters, and he wondered at length if this were not the hardest work he had ever done. He was proud, and would not ask his comrade to rest often, and Holt was either unmindful or careless of his pain. Moreover he could not talk as he proceeded, for walk- ing took all his breath, and many poetic suggestions that he might have had were lost, because he could nou repeat them. The most shocking view afoot, he had at any time, was once when he took off his shoes and saw his bare skin cut and bloody and dusty. He would have given half his money for a seat in a passing stage- coach; and once when he sat at the roadside, while Holt trudged abstractedly ahead, tears, wrung by travel and trouble, came into his eyes, and he wished that he were at home again. "I say, young kid," cried one of three brutal fellows, in suits of brown corduroy, who stopped abreast of him, "give us the price of a quart 'o porter, or we'll - wring yer young neck." Applegate hesitated, until the man's companions re- peated the demand with oaths and menaces. He put his hand into his pocket for some coppers, but half a crown and several shillings were mingled with them, page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] 60 . ASHORE IN ENGLAND. uhich, when the man had seek", he struck them out of Applegate's hand, and the three ruffians gathered them up and ran away. Applegate was so frightened by the incident, that he took to his heels also, worn as he was, and kept to the height of his speed until he came up with Holt, who heard the story with his customary laugh and hearty rejoinder. "What should I have done," exclaimed Applegate, '"if they had knocked me down and taken my last penny?" "Nonsense!" cried Holt. "But you do not carry all your cash about you?" "Yes," said Applegate. "That's queer," returned Holt, musingly; "but it's the best way." Henceforward Applegate looked with dread upon the folk-on-foot whom he encountered. They were numer- I ous, and for the most part ruffianly. Some of them he found Lent by the name of "tramps," and trudged up and down the country the year round; the mass of them were mere beggars, though thieving was a feature of their career; and Holt said lightly, that few of them had not seen the inside of a "jug." Applegate thought the allusion had reference to their intemperance. Others were profligate mechanics, who pretended to be in search of work, but really loved this restless, precarious mode Xoflife, and were well satisfied to perform any odd task fort the price of a bed and a pot of beer. Those who travelled in parties were the most insolent, gaining Sf^ courage by organization; and they were not loth to add ASHORE IN ENGLAND. 61 highway robbery, or even house-breaking, to their offences. It was a great satisfaction to Applegate that he was not alone; for being decently clothed and timid, and wearing his whole fortune upon his person, he did not doubt that nine out of every ten vagabonds would have stolen his money, if they had not even taken his life. But Holt was full of brawn and spirit; his heartiness was a better passport than bravery. He frequently went up to sile worst gangs on the road, and talked to them in a strange dialect, borrowing their tobacco, asking the news from "tLunnen," a city of which Applegate had never heard, and cracking some unintelligible joke which made them laugh and swear that he was an 't old un," and a regular " out-and-outer." There were sometimes women amopg these Ishmael- ites, and they were always quite base or quite wretched. Some of them cursed in deep, male voices, and were equalto any hazardous emergency; others went barefoot- ed and in rags, with bruises upon their faces; and now and then Applegate was a witness to fierce battles upon the highway. He thought that the English common people were the most depraved in the world; but Holt explained that the existence of tiiese "tramps " was an \ evidence of the glory of Britain. On the " continent," he said, "they have the passport system; the authorities take cognizance of everybody. : One cannot stop at a hotel but his name is reported to a magistrate, and his business and history demanded. But this is a free country; you can go where you will; you need not have any abode; you may beg and sleep page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] 62 - ASHORE IN ENGLAND. on the heath, and whistle any song you like as you jog along." "But there are too many of these strolling people," objected Applegate; " we pass a hundred every hour; they are all big -and brutal, but they have no industry. Is there no work to be had?? Why do women and chil- dren go with these errant men?" "Ours is a roving race," answered Holt; " the Anglo- Saxon does the travelling for a11 the world. He is a seaman, a colonizer, a pioneer. These folks whom you see have the instinct of travel; they havel't the money to go abroad, though her majesty pays their expenses sometimes, and calls it 'transportation;' so they grat- 4 ify themselves by dusty glimpses of old England,- -and where, " cried Holt, dexterously changing fKe theme, "where is there such a stunning little country?" Now and then there were sign-boards at the entrance of villages, saying: - te ALL PERSONS BEGGING OR LOITERING IN THS PARISH WILL BE PROSECUTED AND PUNISHED. MOVE ON!" It occurred to Applegate, always apprehensive and sensitive, that, as he and Holt were on foot and without definite destination, they might perihps be thought only common vagabonds. This piquedl his pride; for as he would do no mean 'act, he 'wished to stand in nopean esteem; but it certainly seemed that the mass of, residents looked upon him contemptuously. He was X often addressed as "my young pad," and "gallus," and asked, in allusion to his decent clothing, where he came by'his" togs."' The folks at roadside houses were not communicative; he approached a farm-house once to ASHORE IN ENGLAND. 63 get a draught of water, and the owner threatened to set a dog upon him. The knapsack which he carried obtained for him in some quarters the repute of a puppet showman or a peddler. He had looked upon it with pride at first, but J wished that he could hide it now. If the people had only known him for a young gentleman "pedestrian," their manner might have been more gracious; buthe could not write the word upon his hat, and it might not have been understood had he done so. In fact, the few who were sufficiently curious to inquire expressed no emo- tion when told that he was travelling for pleasure. They either disbelieved him, aiid suspected that it could be no good errand which he wanted to conceal, or sneered at the idea of one goiS abroad without enough money to ride. He was obliged, also, to correct his ideas of distance and expense. Twenty or thirty miles a day, which he had looked upon as a trifling performance, proved to be really a day's work for a horse. A mile is a small thing at the beginning, but of more consequence before one gets to the end of it. He wondered, indeed, if his romance in Europe was not very like the emigrant's romance in America. Both crossed the sea in the bottom of a ship, and became day-laborers. directly after landing. He had heard of the Irishman who walked one hundred miles for the fun of the return ride; but he had ridden two thousand miles for the fun of walking all the time. He found in the end that it was easier to get through money than space. What he ordered cost more tlan he expected;, but what he was charged for astonished page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] " o ASHORE IN ENGLAND. him.- A supper and a night's roofing made a bill of a dozen items, each dish being Specified, and there were separate charges for napkins, attendance and lights.- In the latter respect his patience was severely tasked: a waiter would rush before him to the chamber, and ignite two' or three wax-candles, which severally ap- peared in the reckoning next morning. It was useless to remonstrate; all publicans appeared to be perfect in' Titus Oates's principle of" hanging on./ -After paying the charge called " service' or " attend- ance "' in the written bill, several individuals whom he had never seen before would assail him at departure with indignant claims. The waiter, the cook, the chambermaid and the " boot-black " came in order, and once the hostler, who had quite as good a case as the rest, insisted upon being " remembered " or rewarded. Holt said that the latter had - certainly "curried favor;" but he declined to pay for it. However great had been Applegate's admiration for the enthusiastic author of the book on "Pedestrianism," it was vastly increased by a retrospect of his expenses. Applegate thought it would have been well to have brought -him along and paid his way; but had too much reverence to doubt, and was only grieved because he himself could not travel with the same economy.. A MYSTERY AT HAST/NGS. 65 CHAPTER VII. A MYSTERY AT HASTINGS. THEY rested a night at Brighton, where all London was sinning and sunning through the summer; and on the sixth day filed through Saint Leonard's, and halted in the rare old English town of Hastings. It was a place known to Applegate as the scene of grave events in history. He had passed finer castles, but none which thrilled him like the old ruin surmount- ing the town; and he looked into the faces of the people on the promenade by the seashore, as if they were the veritable Normans and Saxons who had planted their standards on the hills near by. After ascending and descending certain crooked streets in the search of lodgings, they came upon a plain public house near the end of the town, and placing their baggage in the bar, drank fine Hastings beer which the plump bar-maid pumped from the cellar. The small proprietor and his obese, wheezy wife showed them two breezy bedrooms and a charming little parlor. The latter was embellished with portraits of the royal family, and lithographs of a shipwreck, of a volunteer review, and of the Rev. John Wesley preaching his last sermon inl the open air, which he did near Hastings. A bundle of peacock's feathers, a table covered with religious page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] " A MYSTERY AT HASTINGS. books and daguerreotypes, a bell-rope and some cane- bottomed furniture, completed what to Applegate re- sembled a nook in his aunt's old home, rather than the chamber of a third-rate tavern. But, better than all, the window overlooking the back yard of the "Hastings Arms " presented, over some red-tiled roofs, a view of fishermen's boats and nets upon the beach, and the sails upon the calm channel. They were to take possession of this corner of Eden for four shillings a day, which sum included a breakfast of chops and coffee. Holt said that they would stay a week, which Applegate heard with more delight than he dared ex- press. He rested the next day. There was a sofa in the parlor, and the wheezy old lady gave Applegate a pil- low, that he might lie snugly and watch the cool sea. She had no children, and she looked upon his pleasantly boyish face, and heard the recital of his adventures, in his blushing, enthusiastic way. She. asked if she might kiss him for the gift of a pitcher of ale, and was so affected when she had done so that she breathed like a cat or a porpoise, and Applegate feared that she would not come to, and he would lose his payment. But she not only gave him the ale, but -made him come to din- ner with her little husband, whom she called "Fay- ther;" and the old lady, whose wheeziness made the table shake, and quite cooled the smoking roast, listened to Applegate's accounts of America, and slavery, and the war, with her eyes wide open and her face full of smiles. "Does thee 'ear,'im, Tammas?" she exclaimed from time to time, to the little old gentleman, whose face A MYSTERY AT HASTINGS. 67 was so inexpressive that he looked to-be deaf as a post, except while he laughed, when it was more so. Holt all this time had been on the beach, talking with watermen, to whom his heartiness soon recommended him; and he went sailing with a party of them, whereby he did not appear till dark. So Applegate, well pleased to be alone for a space, climbed the grassy hill and paid some pence to a gate- keeper, and saw from Hastings castle the old, pictu- resque town, the outlying windmills, the bluffs along the seaside, and the towers of the two long, low churches, which looked only like larger graves than -those by which they were surrounded. He mounted the mouldering walls, descended into the moat, scaled the brolken portal, and saw the stars come out; the same bright, beautiful stars whereby two kings, the conquering and the conquered, marked the dark multitudes of their soldiers on the eve of the bat- tle. He had no thoughts; his emotions even were so con- fused that he could not define them : it was age, history, cromance, Europe, weaving upon him that spell which only youth and imagination know, - the poet's trans- port, which remains for a moment, and leaves the world i so hard, colorless and flavorless when it has departed. I As he turned the street leading to his hotel, a tall figure, wrapped in a spotted robe, passed beneath a gas- light across the way. The gait, the garb, and the shape were too curious not to have been remarked at any time; but to Applegate they had such significance that he could never have forgotten them. He recognized with a shudder his old enemy of the ship, and as the page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] 68 A MYSTERY HA USTINGS. latter passed away into the shadows, Applegate uttered a silent prayer that out of them to his perturbed view the man and the memory might never return. He felt so refreshed in the morning that h9 deter- mined to set out alone for Battle, the site of King Harold's death, and the centro of the field wherieon his overthrow gave a French king to England. Tlhe walk thither consumed three hours. He saw a fine old abbey in ruins, and a stupid market town, and returning to his hotel at nightfall, fagged and hungry, lay down in the little parlor by the open window and waited for Holt to come. He had outlined a poem, which he meant to write on the morrow, and as he scanned it and filled it in, the rhyme lulled him to drowsiness and he was borne to the margin of sleep. Footsteps in the yardbelow recalled him; he leaned upon the casement ledge and saw two figures, one ad- vancing, one receding; and at the gateway, standing in the deep shadows, a third man, muffled and listening. The ivo in the foreground lay in the strong light of the bar window, and Applegate recognized Holt in the near- est of them. He appeared to be entering the hotel by the door in the rear, from which the other, a stout, bearded person, had just sallied; but the latter turned shortly as Holt passed him, and cried familiarly:- "Holloa! Ben Hilt." Applegate saw that his friend faced the man very quickly, and also, as he fancied, in a shrinking, startled way, quite different from Holt's customary noncha- lance. "You have made a mistake, my friend," answered A MYSTERY AT HASTINGS. 69 Holt, in a tone less hearty than he was wont to em- ploy. "I think not," asserted the man gruffly; "if your name is not Ben Hilt, why did you reply at all?" "( Because, my friend," rejoined the other, " my name happens to be Holt. I thought you might have been an acquaintance and missed the word; you prove to be a stranger and have missed the man. Good-evening i' He strode into the tavern without further parley, and the gruff individual, halting irresolutely a moment, also went on his way; the figure in shadow joined him at the gate, and by the street lights as they emerged Applegate recognized the robe like a leopard's skin, --the man of misfortune and misery who bade well to become the phantom of his life. He pondered over the affair for a little while, and as Holt seemed to be tardy, and he himself stood in need of food, he rang the little bell to order up the supper. The good old lady, who ascended the stairs with the weight and wheeziness of a locomotive, placed a little note in his hand, which Applegate read by the candle- light. Its contents alarmed and astonished him. "'Friend Shrink," it said, " call for the traps inmedi- ately and pay the bill. Avoid all delay or contro- Versy. I will make full explanation when I see you. It is not so dark but you can find your way along the beach to the East cliff; there is a broad path, which you will see by the starlight, leading past an old Roman camp and through a glen to the high road, where you will find "Your friend, hastily, HOLT." page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] 70 A MYSTERY AT HASTINGS. The letter had been written in pencil and hurriedly. Applegate's hands quivered as he read it again. His first inclination was to disregard it. He was weary and hungry, and loth to set out in the night-time upon so mysterious a summons; but the positive nature of Holt, had established an influence. over him. Their plans were similar. He felt that, thrown upon his own resources, Europe would be very wide and he most feeble; and he ordered the bill from the landlady, to her great wheeziness, and bade her adieu within the instant. It grieved him to see that this hasty parting had placed him lower in her esteem. He would have returned her all in double measure for the repetition of her motherly embrace; but she only said, "Good.. night, young gentleman," and looked after him as he went down the dim street, and Applegate knew that she held him in ill suspicion. His baggage would have pressed less heavily had she lightened it with a good wish. He trudged stiffly along the sand, with the surf snarling at his feet, and climbing the height to the right of the town, stood without the old Roman fosse, and looked back upon the scattered lamps. The bells of All Saints struck eight o'clock; the moon came up and walked upon the sea, burning its footsteps into the dark water; he heard the drum-beat at a coast-guard station, and saw the shape of a senti- nel, with a great telescope beneath his arm, pacing the promontory; then he crossed a. deep ravine where a rill cried out upon silence, and plunged into a funereal wood, whence issuing, white meadows- and the sea broke into view again. A MYSTERY AT HASTINGS. 71 He came to the high road at last, lame, and weak, and doubting; but only a glowering windmill loomed up in the night, and he stood in fear and perplexity till the lantern at Fairlight seemed to beckon him farther on. He passed a heath and gypsies; some farm dogs howled at. the patter of his feet; and it was not till he stood beneath an old Gothic chur ch, whose marine lamp, far up in the tower, flickered redly upon the gravestones, that Holt strode out from a hedge-bank and cried "Good-evening." His tone had all its ancient heartiness ; but Applegate fancied, though the red lamp threw an unreal hue upon ^H his face, that he was pale and nervous, and his manner forced and uneasy. /"For Heaven's sake, sir," exclaimed Applegate, "tell me the meaning'of this summons!" "A whim of mine," answered Holt, with a laugh. "I took a fancy for a stroll in the moonlight, and why should it not be in the direction of our journey's end? Besides, I am weary of yonder dull town." "But why leave so unceremoniously? You forget sir, that I have wlked quite eighteen miles to-day, and have eaten no dinner." "Nonsense, young Shrink,' adswered Holt. "In my Irregular life I have taken a thousand as sudden de- partures; you have too much pluck to bacli out of a night's exercise; besides, I have an object." "What is that, sir?" cried Applegate. "A steamer leaves Woolwich five days hence for Antwerp; by waiting till to-morrow we might miss it you did not speak of qitti England so soon. "But you did not speak of quitting England so soon. , ,I Y M) LIVV HW V4 ZULYVIIIo page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] A MYSTERY AT BASTINGS. -Are we to see nothing of London? I do not like to change my plans so abruptly." "You mean," said Holt, " that we are no longer to be colleagues; very well, let us part friends. But if you knew London as I do, - its expenses, its temptations, its dangers, --you would hesitate to encounter it alone, and with your limited means. Besides, you have -not heard me out: I have reason to believe that we may have free passage to the continent, as an old friend of mine is master of the ship I have mentioned." The apparent sincerity of his friend, his warning and his inducement, had their influence upon Applegate's confiding nature. It was too late and too far to return to Hastings. He could see from the elevated position which they occupied- the highest ground in Sussex - that the road led for many miles down a pleasantly de- scending country into a wide plain or campagna, whose starlighted expanse, sprinkled with the lamps of many villages, revealed in faint outline manor-houses, cottages, granges and church-spires, and in the marshes by the seacoast a line of grim Martello towers, - England's monuments to Bonaparte, They continued to advance at an easy pace till one by one the hours of the night glided past, and they stopped in the morning at the town of Rye. Henceforward Holt led the march with a springy, relentless step. He seemed to be walking on a wager, and regarded Applengate as a spectator merely. He talked sometimes in his ringing way of the country, the time, and the government, always ren- dering o::himself agreeably and often originally, but with that worldliness, not to say heartlessness of tone, e A MYSTERY AT HASTINGS. 73 which was at antagonism wivth Applegate's fine, imagi- native temperament. It was odd, thought the latter, that Holt had never spoken of his family and birthplace. There seemed to be no human being in England whom he cared to see. He was a man without a memory, an attachment, an acquaintance. He was about to leave his native country abruptly, after years of absence, and yet he looked to be one whose good looks, good mauners and intelli- gence should have won him troops of friends. Apple- gate half envied his ruddy English col ahd flowing hair and beard. He was broad, tall and shapely. No lines of cynicism or passion ruffled his clear countenance; yet his face wanted neither expression nor force. It was feeling, conviction, enthusiasm, which Holt had not. An all-absorbing carelessness dlistinguished him. Nothing moved him. He was never vehement nor in- dignant. Had'he no faith, mused Applegate, that all things, tearful and terrible, touched him so lightly? Selfishness, bitterness, violence, wouldhave been better than his irreverent, incessant indifference. Yet sometimes there was reason to suspect that the thoughts of Holt were graver than his face; that in his very flippantry there was an effort, a care. - "You1ng Shrink," he said one day, " what a rare face you have! Your blood is more sensitive than mercury. Whatever you feel or think exhibits itself. I can read you like a book,- all your hopes, emotions, anxieties. I dare say now, if you were ever to do a great crime, that your face would confess and hang you." "I hope never to do the great crime, sir; but I wish 4 page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] 74 A MYSTERY AT HASTINGS. it were easier to conceal, not to say dissemble, my feel- ings." "You have no need for a countenance like the Sphinx," answered Holt, with a quieter tone. "It is only the dry hearts which show no fountains. What- ever comes to your face, lad, is true and boyish. Oh for the old days, when one could blush, and shudder, and show the guilt that he felt! But then," said Holt, with his old laugh and heartiness, "that would be dev- ilishy inconvenient, wouldn't it? Whatever else Holt might have been, he was certainly a wonderful walker. The days went glibly, with Applegate limping and meagre-faced; but his friend seemed to hate the gloaming of the night, that it kept down his feverish desire to go on, and on, and on, like the folks in fairy tales. He cared nothing for the odd old towns which they passed. Why did he walk at all, wondered Applegate, if the quaint roofs and gables, the churches and the commons, had nothing to woo him from his exercise? Not even Dover Castle, nor Canter- bury Cathedral,had any charm for him. He rose in the morning betimes, and assumed a fierce stride which he kept up till the sweat ran down his beard, and his younger comrade fell by the roadside, worn out by the weariness which he would not plead; and then Holt raised him up, and said something to re- vive Applegate's strength with his pride, and they dashed on again like a pursued couple straining for a city of refuge. 9The tramps increased in number as they came nearer to the great metropolis; they journeyed through the misty parishes of Kent amidst a stream'of wretched A MYSTERY AT EASTINGS. 75 people, and once they discerned at the roadside a grim figure trundling a machine for grinding knives and scissors; it was their old acquaintance of the steerage, -the swarthy Gaul. He knew them at once, and grinned in his animal way, and pointed eastward with his grimy finger to the straits of France. No wife nor children had he, as it seemed; no hearth-fire burning for his coming; no great love in his heart, to make the miles more long and dusty; not anything which the young and ambitious know. A great, unconscious cynic upon mankind was he, that he had so brought down life to a grinding labor, and walked among the multitude abhorring their companionship; and, knowing how the world worships destructiveness, scattered its weapons as he went; and so, having made the circuit of the globe, came home to die, bearing his cross before him for a monument. page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] 7 6 A WINKFULL OF LONDON. CHAPTER V1l. A WINKFULL OF LONDON. AT four o'clock on the fourth afternoon, they turned to the left of the high road, and Holt, who knew every foot of the ground, led the way across a corner of heath and up a steep hill through some underbush. They emerged before a solitary brick tower, standing on the crest of the elevation, and seemingly a portal or a bas- tion to some old fortress removed. An inscription on marble, set in the wall, stated that the structure com- memorated the taking of Severndroog Castle; in Ceylon, and was raised in honor of some gentleman who lived in the neighborhood; but Holt added that all the peo- ple knew it by the name of Shooter's Hill Castle, and, without any ado, proceeded to climb into one of its windows.' Some old chain armor lay rusting upon the foor, and the model of a ship, rigged out by cobwebs, lay on a shelf in a corner; in the second story certain lances, scimeters, and spears, prizes of Eastern warfare, were scattered here and there; but when they passed another stair, and leaped through a trap to the roof, a landscape burst upon them which thrilled Applegate almost to blindness, and made even Holt flush for an instant, though the latter recovered directly and laughed. it A WINKFULL OF LONDON. - " London lay to the right, commencing in middle ground and stretching to the horizon, with the black , dome of St. Paul's piercing its ashen sky; the long pro- cession of bridges extending in perspective across the diminishing ribbon of the Thames; and the great docks near at hand, making an impregnable abattis of masts and spars. To the -left a huge crystal building, terraced around and guarded by two giant towers, rose-golden against the sunset, - the Crystal Palace. Just beneath the eye lay Woolwich, with its massive arsenals and navy yards, and upon its green comimon companies of soldiers and cricketers; farther on rose the grand Hos- pital of Greenwich, and a hundred villages dotted -the fresh meadows, while men and beasts and ships went to and fro forever, the greatest human army in the history of our race, - that which old Malthus saw with horror, and wondered how the earth could feed it. As one by one Holt indicated the spires and promi- nent objects of the city, twilight fell upon the view, and they saw a million lamps darting through the gloom of evening. Holt said that they should sleep all night in the old tower, and he lay upon the floor perturbedly; but Applegate stayed for a long time upon the roof, and saw the lights glide down the current of the river; and thinking of the great city whose voices seemed to be wafted to him, wished that for one day his feeble life could fall like a drop into its ocean, rather than thus stand upon its beach and listen to its roar. He was himself nervous and uneasy during the night, but Holt's unrest was more noticeable. He stirred at every dropping twig in the copse without; if the old, unsteady tower shook once in the night's breeze, so did , , . t. page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] 78 A WINKFULL OF LONDON. Holt, and called to Applegate fitfully. A path led be- neath Severndroog, toward the village of Eltham, and at every footfall leaping its stiles, Holt crept to the window and listened aghast. In the end, Applegate, though very cold, folded himself to sleep in the thought of his mistress, whom he should' shortly see, and woke at dawn quite sore, stiff and chilly, when Holt shook him smartly and said it was time to be off. A-few workmen were creeping across the dewy com- mon, for they heard the bells of the government shops ringing; but Holt, avoiding these, led the way around the town, and through some narrow streets to the North Woolwich slip, whence few passengers embarked, as the steamboat terminus was at South Woolwich. "Diamon-funnel boat for Lunnen bridge and Hunger- ford," cried the sleepy slip-tender," just up in forty min- utes., It being cold at the river side,- though Applegate greatly enjoyed the view of rare craft moving up and down, and the strange dwellings, junk-shops and float- ing-houses along the margin,--Holt said that they should find a public house, and drink something to take the edge out of the wind. But when, after some search, they came to a good sort of place, with the gas yet burning in its six large lamps, and the clink of beer- glasses ringing within, Holt started as if aia ghost, at the great sign-board under the cornice, aid swore that he would be roasted a thousand years rather than enter that hostelry. 'Applegate read the, announcementj which was to be sure somewhat forbidding; it said:-- "THE OLD WOOLWICH HULKS TAVERN." A WINA'ULL OF LONDON. 79 However, after wandering about in the wind, and lunching at a low booth, filled with quarrelsome sailors, they regained the quay in good season, and paid four pence for the cheap forward passage, and while Hol hastened into the cabin and thrust his face through a window, Applegate walked upon deck, gazing at a thou- sand passing objects, not one of which reminded him of anythin 'at home. The -river was turbid and rushing, with low, foggy banks; and the vessels were oddly shaped with vari-colored sails, the steamers being pigmy things, which skimmed the water like mud-larks, while huge, oblong, square-bottomed barges drove now and then down the tide, manned each by one boy, whose enormous oar looked like Archimedes' lever that was to move the world. The ribs of ships on the reedy slopes reminded Ap- plegate of extinct beasts, which had crawled out of the Thames and become fossils there; now he swept by some looming East Indiamani with cannon between her decks; again by some black-hulled revenue cutter ol, Admiralty yacht. Greenwich passed him, with the grimy hospital hulk of the Dreadnaught moored abreast it. And Applegate knew no more of London than he saw at Blackwall, as the steaner left him on the quay and disappeared through the mist, on its route to the mighty city. It did not occur, as Holt had intimated, that free passage to Antwerp was afforded them; on the contrary, Holt seemed to know nobody on the ship, but said that he had made a mistake in the vessel. "Then let us wait, sir," cried Applegate, " while Lon- don is s6 near by." i "It is impossible," answered the other; "my en- page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] ?oU A WINKFUILL OF LONDON. gagements forbid delay; but one day upon the conti- nent is worth a month in this smoky city. Come! let 1 us go together." I So Applegate, loth to miss the great spectacle near att hand, consoled himself by watchinw the emigrant ves- sels surrounding them. The Australian packets sailed from Blackwall, and the quaint costumes upon their decks seemed to bring the South Seas very close. The belching furnaces of Milwall burst all at once into industry now; the carcasses of ships drawn upon the sands became populous with carpenters, as with in- sects, and he heard the morning chimes, sweep down from London,--the very Bow bells, perhaps, which sang courage to poor Dick Whittington. Then, as after in- 0 vocation, the vessels multiplied upon the Thames; huge i argosies from the "pool" and the "docks" lifted an- chors and dropped down the tide; fisher boats on the, way to Billingsgate tacked up the current wearily; H lighters and wherries drove by, with uncouth sloops and schooners deeply laden; the little steamers darted it past, to the shrill cries of urchins repeating the cap- a tains' orders, and at last the Antwerp packet raised her sails like some great vulture with fire at her heart, and l moved the talons of her paddle-wheels and swept out into the stream. But Applegate, looking ashore in- tently, saw, just as the vessel left the pier, two men rush quickly down the margin and stand baffled, as the captain shook his head to their cry for a return. It was the old incident of somebody left, and most of the folks around laughed, as it is most natural to do, at slilght calamity. B But Applegate grew pale and quivered as did his i A WINKEULL OF LONDON. 81 friend Holt, cowering beside him; one of the persons chafing on the quay wore a spotted robe, like a wild beast's skin. He was their late mysterious co-voyageur upon the Atlantic, and the short, bearded, sinister man beside him had confronted Holt in the tavern yard at Hastings . "Who are these men?" cried Applegate. "Is it you or I whvlm they are regarding so fiercely? See how they stamp their feet and point at us!" l "It must be you, young Applegate," answered the elder. "I do not know them; but is not the taller he who accused you of filching his watch? How comes it, lad, that he maintains the charge so persistently?" Applegate felt the deck slipping away from him; had he indeed the repute of a thief? Was it for this that. he had been haunted by night and by day? The blood rushing to his cheeks indignantly brought with it a re- vival of consciousness; and he would-have returned the menaces of the folks on shore, like one strong in his innocence; then came a sinking of the. heart and ghastly fear: he was poo, 'friendless, three thousand miles from holne! Some days in the steerage of a ship had been a pro- longed horror; some hours on the deck of a packet1 were horror intensified, -minutes wrung out by cold, and sea-sickness, and wind, and spray, and sleepless- ness, and ill-associates, to weeks, almost months, of suffering. Applegate hoped never again to get so long a ride for his imoney. The lad on the canal who worked out his passage by driving the mules has been put into history; but our hero wondered, in view of page: 82-83[View Page 82-83] 82 A WINKFiULL OF LONDON. his wet and wretched plight, if he might not as well have pushed the vessel'across the channel. There were stalls for horses and sheep, and bins for rabbits, and cheese and butter boxes, and all manner of nauseous cargo around him. The sea pitched like some of the drunken men whom Applegate dimly saw reeling in the midnight, and at every lurch there was danger of being trodden or crushed, as the freight tumbled to and fro, and the beasts strained their halters in terror. )# \ ,., ; THEI1 GREAT LOSS AT ABN1WERiPe 83 CfCHAPTER IX. THE GREAT LOSS AT ANTWERP. THE morning rose upon the low banks of the Scheldt, the whirling windmills on the dikes, and the cattle browsing in the marshy bottoms. Some odd old villages and many forts were to be remarked at the elbows of the river; and at length the towers and Cathedral spire of Antwerp loomed up in the moist horizon, and they passed its keenly chiselled -citadel, secure in circles of tide, parapet and cannon, and hallowed by sieges, storms and strategies. K TDhe hotel on the quay was certainly a rough place; i but then the mistress spoke a number of languages, as indeed everybody else seemed to do here, chiefly be- cause there was nothinog else to be done. They had a H cheap beefsteak, however, and ordered a bed together, i and then Applegate set out for the consul's office to ask for his letter. He passed the Cathedral on his way, and followed with his eye the steepness of its gothic spire, and wondered if this were not. one of the works of those sons of God, who whilom came down to love the daughters of men, but set up some altars by way of compromise. He cotild not but steal in a moment, to see how Ru- bens raised the cross that he might lighten it of its vic- page: 84-85[View Page 84-85] v 84 THE GREAT LOSS AT ANTWERP. tim so much more gloriously; and so standing in the wide transept with the painted light mellowing the picture screens, he seemed to feel the consecrating hands of an art, which had made religion more beauti- ful, come softly upon his pale temples and touch his devout eyes. But art, antiquity, foreign faces and places do not drop into a boy's heart like his sweet- heart's first letter. He did not dare to look at it twice in the consul's office; he did not see any one of the beautiful Flemish girls who blocked up the sidewalk as he dashed along; he did not know that a hundred over- hanging mirrors caught him up as he went fast and blushingly for twice. as many invisible people to admire; the high, notched gables, the many elaborate churches, the thump of wooden shoes, the clatter of all dialects, - Walloon, Dutch, Flammand, French, -not any of these things had power over Applegate now; he kept straight to the public green in the heart of the town, and took a bench at the foot of the statue of Rubens, and broke the pale envelope with a paler fin- ger and read what modesty said to love. "Dear friend," said the letter, "I had become more of an American than I was aware. Our littleBiDngen sleeps so placidly beside the Rhine, that it looked to be dead to me for the first few days. But I was mis- taken; it only had no fever, and fever is the sign of life in the New World. But I must say that our Ger- man slowness and stolidness were very apparent. It took the news of my return many days to traverse the village. Several days then elapsed before our oldest friends called to see me. Their grave, quiet greeting THE GREAT LOSS AT ANTWERP. 85 seemed cruel, compared with the American demonstra- tiveness; but they have the German truth and sin- cerity, and I have trust in their regard. "( However, I have settled at my uncle's; he has a wine-room in the middle of the town, and I am at once cook, waitress, bar-maid and house-keeper. The old citizens come in of evenings to play Sixty-Six, or Chess, or Backgammon. Now and then a young traveller like yourself, avoiding the larger hotels, asks a night's: lodging. We have the pleasant wine of the hills around us, and books, and we live frugally after the. manner of Fatherland. It is not hard to be content with such blessings. I walk along our little-river Nahe frequently, or climb to the castle, or go to the dim little church to hear the music, and only now and then U-fpdl that if some dear friend were sometimes with me, the stillness would be less long and heavy. For a while the secret that we kept between us made me sad. So I told my uncle one evening all the story, and he said at first that-I had been imprudent. It pained me to thnk so; for if I had committed a fault, how came it that I was so happy? But the good gen- tleman told me afterward that if my conscience had not rebuked me, he would not rebuke me either. And I thought it all over, asking a higher judgment than mine, the while, and answered him that I believed that' I was right; so that now, having no doubt, it is not so hard to wait, and I may speak to you without fear of reproach. Dear Applegate, come to our village. You are too young and frail to wander up and down Europe. Have you a fixed purpose that you pursue it at so much haz- page: 86-87[View Page 86-87] 86 THE GREAT LOSS AT ANTWERP. ard? What will you have won, dear friend, when you have travelled so far and learned so little? I see others i -come abroad like you, with the fever of travel upon them. They have just gone far enough never to be satisfied at rest, and only wretched by adventure. Come to Bingen; study to be perfect in the language of our land. I have often wished that many of our young German writers were known in America. Might not I you be able to turn them into English? There is a little room in my uncle's house, far up, but clean and airy, and its window looks out upon the wide Rhine. The few groschen that you would pay for it, and for a place at my uncle's table, would make your moderate means serve you for a long time, and your presence would gladden "Your friend, sincerely. GRETOC1EN." It would not be well for the dignity of the narrative if Applegate's boyish joy at the reading of the letter were faithfully described. He stopped at every para- graph, and found it the hardest epistle to understand that he had ever known, because so'sensitive to opinion was he, that he placed a cluster of constructions upon every item; .and then accuses himself of wronging the frankest, most modest, most womanly affection which man could deserve. How should he ever be a great scholar, he said, when a simple emigrant girl was so much his master at cor- respondence? He would have placed a hundred foolish or unworthy things in the same space; his letter would have been inconsistent, incongruous, undignified; he THE GREAT LOSS AT ANTWERP. 87 would hive strained for great effects, and missed them; while her plain, pleasant sentences brought each a thrill, and blended like colors in a master's painting. Ah! should our mistresses ever write more than one love- letter? The great poet was never so great to his sweet- heart as in his first doggerel ode to her eyes; nor can the- young maiden's prosody ever improve upon that first gilt-edged billet, wherein she writes her plight. And Applegate resolved to go to Bingen; it would be hard to break with Holt, no doubt, but once done he would be freer. He was not weary of Holt, but un- easy in his company; he did not believe that any favors which that individual could confer balanced the loss of London unseen. He would express to-night, therefore, his thanks and his regret, and turn his face southward toward the sunny Rhilieland. Here a host of bright fancies fell from Applegate Shrink, like the endless rib- bon from the magician's mouth, which must be clipped to be stopped; so he hastened to the Museum and sat in S Rubens's chair, and stood by the grand Pieta of the blacksmith Matys, and halted a long while before a canvas which charmed and awed him, - the wonderful composition of tLe Crucifixion, wherein the wicked thief, by his tremendous agony and action, has raised himself from a demon in creed to be a deity in art. Then he saw the marble figure of Vandyck, and walked to Rubens's house in a little by-street, and took the circuit of the grand docks, which were to have made Antwerp famous, but which, in her decadence, made her yet more vast and solitary. The moon came up as he passed along the quays, page: 88-89[View Page 88-89] O0td V THE GREAT LOSS AT ANTWERP. and the Scheldt rushed redly seaward in her glare; but the leaves of the trees beneath whose aisles he passed were edged with gold, like the fate that he saw shaping before him.. Rest, rest, rest. That was what he wished. How had he so far mistaken his career as to prefer this wild, fiery,tfagging travel, for a quiet haven, sweet thoughts, pensive study, and a pure love? He would-share those evening strolls with Gretchen- by the Nahe; there should be no castle upon the Rhine with half so rare a legend as the faith that they should keep. ' e would translate the young literati, as she had said, winning fortune and applause in America and gratitude X in Germany. When he shoulld cross the sea with his own true wife, he would tell how she had given speed and direction to his ambition; and at this place his step grew proud, he gestured with tingling fingers, and for- got the visible, venial world till he stood. before Holt in their little chamber. -:His friend was leaning back in a chair beside the window, smoking a pipe; he was bare-haired and looked as if he had been waiting a long time, and said' that Applegate was a jolly fellow to have left him alone all day. They spoke of what they had severally seen, and i Holt related some stories of the city, of the bloody Netherlands revolt, of the cruel Alva, and of the Span- ish fury. He had read the eloquent history' of Mr. Motley, and repeated that author's beautiful description of Antwerp Cathedral, so that Applegate, who had meanwhile undressed, lay upon the bed, lolled by the poetry and music, and wondered if Holt were not a great, unrecognized genius. THE GREAT LOSS AT ANTWEERP, 89 His friend was so winning and affectionate, -indeed, that the boy dared not speak of their approaching rup- ture; it would be a return of evil for good; in the morning he would tell it all; and moved by a girlish impulse he sat up in the bed, and touched Holt's hands and looked up into his laughing eyes. "Dear Mr. Holt," he said, " you have been very kind and pleasant. I wish I could always be sure of your remembrance. You have travelled so long and met so manlly that I shall soon be forgotten, I am sure." "a! ha! young poet," answered Holt, " what is myr good opinion worth to you?" "Much, sir," cried Applegate; "I would have the : esteem of everybody. To know that I am forgotten wounds me more than to be disliked. I would have you always think of me as a friend, for our acquaint- ance shall be a theme of pride and gratitude to me ! forever.. - , Holt blew much smoke out of the window, and Applegate fancied that he trembled a moment, as if with emotion. v How jolly fresh you are, young Shrink! e an- swered. "I thought of the lambs and the green fields1 while you were talking. It is a sad commentary upon men, that I, blase, slow-blooded, dusty-hearted, should melt you so easily, and your true, timid, touching way : should leave me cold and stolid. Give me your hand I As it lies in mine-I feel like a seducer, thrilled one in- stant by his dupe's innocent confidence. There, go to sleep, Applegate; you are weary-eyed, though your tears conceal it. I will sit up till I finish my cigar. Good-night!" -s page: 90-91[View Page 90-91] 90 E GREAT LOSS AT ANTWERP. t Good-night, sir," faltered Applegate. Good-night," again repeated Holt, in a deep, half- unconscious tone; " good-night! good-nigaht!" The bright sun shining into his eyes woke Applega in time to hear the Cathedral bell sound eleven o'clock. How refreshed he felt after the sleepless night of the ship and the day's labor on hand! But Holt,' that man of iron constitution, must have long been goie; for his place in the bed was empty. It did not look as if he hadblain there at all; for the sheetS had not been pressed. But then he might have dozed out the night in his chair, and taken at an early hour one of his strange, irregular strolls. It occurred to Applegate also, as he slipped on his garments, that Holt's baggage had not beenJbrought to the room; yt he had a semi-conscious- ness of having seen it the night before piled up in a - corner. He combed out his glossy hair, and looked into the street and down the yellow river, and read his sweetheart's letter again with all the old, delicious quiv- ering; and, winding up his thin, silver watch, placed it in her case, and reached his hand beneath his pillow for his faithful money-belt. His heart plunged into his breast, and his knees smote each other -it was not there I With fr antic haste he searched again and again; dashed off the pillows, -bolsters and mattresses, and turned them out of their cases. He could not find it. He looked up and down the floors, behind the furniture, beyond the threshold. No glimpse nor clue rewarded him. He sat upon the bedside feverishy, covered his throb- bing -eyeballs with his hands, and tried to think. His friend might have found the belt lying loosely about, THE GREAT LOSS AT ANTWE\YRP. Sl and forgotten to replace it ere he sallied forth. Yet the recollection of Holt's dark conversation on the night before flashed upon Applegate like the lightning. He staggered through the door and down the stairs. "Have you seen ny room-mate?" he asked, in a shrill whisper. "Oh, no; he paid the bills of both gentlemen last evening, and left for Brussels at midnight." page: 92-93[View Page 92-93] -- . ^1U.)U 'U. LTo DUTCH DVIKS. CffAPTER X. BEGGARED ON THE DUTCH DIKES. APPLEGATE uttered one long, loud shriek, and threw himself upon the floor, and beat the hard tiles with his forehead: ' "Robbed! robbed!" Two thousand miles from home, new tongtles and faces around him; no hope of help from friends, or charity from strangers,- sick, -penniless, deserted, afraid,--he wished that the walls would fall and entomb him; that the turgid river beyond the door were flowing oozily above him; that the great trains which rumbled in-the street would crush him with their pon- derous tires; that the vast ocean, which he had crossed so lately and so madly, had opened its jaws to devour him; that the fierce war beyond it, where fire lapped up the blood of thousands, had swept him off with its sulphurous winds, and saved him from this horrible fate! There was a rushing of feet as he grovelled thus in the dust; strong hands lifted him up, and amid the many voices speaking together, there was one close above him which he had heard before. Involuntarily he opened his eyes. It took no second glance to recog- nize the fine, high, working forehead, the intense ex- BEGGARED ON THEJ DUUTCUH ]u31iX. ,ou pression, the lofty figure, and the spotted robe of his compagnon du voyage. * - X But him Applegate no longer feared. It was almost hopefully that he thought of accusation and an asylum in some foreign jail. Yet the manlsone was gentle, almost pitiful. ) i (What ails you, lad?" he said. v "I have been robbed," wept Appleate; " one with whom I travelled and whom I trusted has wed with my money. I am here without a penny, without a friend." i "Do not cry," said the stranger; "it(ish ard case, but there have been harder. It seems to me that I have seen your face somewhere." "It is the kid who left Blackwall with the cheva- lier," answered a stout, bearded, sinister person; "he has been chizzled; as you were, by the big un!" The other's face grew purple,'almost livid, at this intimation. i So terrible seemed its expression, that Ap- plegate, gazing upon it, forgot for the 'moment his own sore distress. "Let us go," said the tall man in monotone, as if he dared not trust his voice to speak aloud,-"'we will continue the pursuit; my few pounds are gliding from me; but though this money which he has filched from a child may prolong his guilty flight, by the wrong which he has done me, he shall not escape!" They went out together hastily, and the bystanders dispersed, each-as if fearful of being called upon for charity; but one man, drawing Applegate to a table, , wiped the dust from his face with a coarse shirt-sleeve, and placed him in a chair. "You are an American chap," he, said. "So am I - ' "i- i page: 94-95[View Page 94-95] " BEGGARED ON THE DUTCH DTKES. by adoption; and I'm sorry for ye. Cheer up! try to eat something. I haven't much money, for I am a com- mon sailor only; but I can pay for your breakfast and welcome." Applegate detailed the circumstances of his, misfor- tune, as he vainly essayed to swallow some morsels of food; but a little brandy which he drank was tasteless as, water in his intense thirst. "It's a rough yarn, shipmate," said the sailor; in the end. "I am a plain man, but I give you my advice and welcome. The first thing to be done is to write to your friends in America for money. Then go straight before the wind to Brussels or the Hague, and lay your case before a United States Minister. Don't report tao any of these yer tuppenny Consuls. They'll refuse help and insult you. Never beg from the boatswain when you can beg from the Admiral. Elevate your ticker here, to pay your passage, and send your wardrobe to the gaff to dry; then come back to this forecastle and I'll give you a dinner and welcome." Applegate gathered from these strange sentences that he was to pledge his watch and his baggage. Fortu- nately his trunk had previously arrived, and he carried it upon his shoulder through a long street behind the Hotel de Ville, till he saw three golden balls hanging from a rickety, peaked gable, - signals of mingled hope and distress; a short, comprehensive, universal alphabet for the poor. It should be no matter of wonder that the ten lost tribes of Israel have never been found; that is because they are so widely distributed; but this particular pawnbroker iwas of one of them, and he looked over Ap- BEGGARED ON THE DUTCH DTIKES. 95 plegate's apparel as if he expected to shake some of his brethren out of it. He held it up to the little light, and reconnoitred it with a pair of spectacles, - themselves purblind with age,-and put it to his beaked nose, as if to rend it, and tested it with his wrinkled claws, and then shook- his head dreprecatingly as if half indignant that it had been brought to him. Yet Applegate prized it much. His sister's threads were in it; his few books were with it; the souvenirs of his whole life were there; he seemed to be parting with his childhood. In like manner his little watch, whose slender hands had kept time in the village school when he was master, looked in the old Hebrew's palm like one of the thirty silver pieces in the clutch of Judas. It was taken apart, weighed, touched with strong acid, tasted,-tossed, and then the head wagged again, and the old man half grinned, half frowned. "Tres peu, tres peu," he muttered, with contempt; if one had brought the Kohinoor diamond to his shop, he would have said the same t hing. The degradation of haggling with this old miser burned Applegate to the nerves. There were others waiting beside him: a drunken woman with her-scarred baby in her arms; a Belgian soldier who looked as if he had been whipped at the cross-tree; a sailor who mighlt- have been a pi- rate, and who cursed the pawnbroker for his delay, - these were the folks with whom Applegate felt he was henceforward to claim kind and degree. He took the two gold Napoleons which were advanced upon his property, and as he turned into the black, un- even street, he wondered how long it might be ere its stones were his nightly pillow. Then, sittings in the page: 96-97[View Page 96-97] bar-room of the hotel, amidst the din of its bacchaals, he indited this Nletter to the only man who had any obli- gation to give him bread:- * s"MYs e A D UEAR CLE: I hasten to tell you and my sister,-to whom you will charitably break the ill * news with gentleness, - that after a short excursion in England I reached this city of Antwerp yesterday and was robbed to-day of allimy money. I am too wretched now to give you any details. I only feel ' how rash and wrong I was to come abroad so ill-pro- vided, and would render up a part of my life to be at I home again; for without relief friom you I must lose it all. I pray you to take no offence at what I may here write down ; in this despair I am not my milder self. I beg, I conjure you to send me help, that I may not starve. If in this far land you let me suffer, grudging me a trifle out of all your riches, closing your ears to the cry which I raise, my blood must be upon your lhands! Be not so unmerciful! Listen- to the S appeal of one who has no other friend; who has never so humiliated himself before; who would rather die than beg from you again, aad who will ask God to bless you perpetually. , "Your distressed nephew, APPLEGATE." That he might not repent and destroy his epistle, Applegate hastily added, as his address, the house of Margaretha at Bin"gel, and hurried to the Bureau de poste: where he deposited it tremulously. Hisfriend, the seaman, who was not very sober; compelled Apple- COMP }gate to drink nauseous Belgian biere blanche on his return, and set him amidst a noisy party, who sang cho-! ruses in some execrable dialect. He escaped from his patron with difficulty, and, passing the dark, deep forti- fications on foot, found a way train at the station bound for Breda, in Holland. He had been undecided whether to go towards Brussels or the Hague; but the crisis re-m quired prompt action, and he bought a ticket for Moer- dyk junction. The country which they traversed was fiat and sterile, without either the Belgian picturesque- ness- or the Dutch quaintness; long, dreary stretches of meadow bounded toward the sea by hills of sand, with seldom one habitation between the eye and the horizon; though now and then, around some patch of starveling pines, a little sallow grass tempted some lean, pinched cattle. When they crossed the Dutch frontier, the scene changed instantly for the better; the soldie"r and the officers-of-customs had not the Belgian boorishness; the dwellings were brighter; the country folks cleaner; but these things made no enthusiasm in poor, crushed Ap- plegate. He seized a moment, when unobserved, to crawl into an empty cattle-car, and lay all night uncov- ered in the moist atmosphere, thinking of his altered in the moist atmosphere, thinking of his altered fortunes. His old dream of pedestrianism came in the night to mock him, and he woke with a bounding heart to see the cold stars twinkle; no golden ladder reached down to him, sleeping thus, like Jacob, far from home; if his single hope of relief from the ambassador failed, what , should he do? He had but thirty-nine francs; he could not sleep in the open air every night, and it would not page: 98-99[View Page 98-99] 98 BEGGARED ON THE DUTCH DIEES. even then be possible to live 'for one franc a day, where- as a reply from America would consume at least one month. He thought bitterly of Gretchen's warning at his first acquaintance with Holt. Should he ever dare to tell her how he was duped and ruined? The pleasant nights at Bingen, the days of quiet study, the contentment of pure love, the glad return to his native land, -these must be replaced by periods of hunger, sharpened by regret; his proud spirit must be abased; he must beg, for he could not hope to labor; any protection which he might receive would be given with sneers or pity, and if he found no protection, - what then? Applegate was glad when the daylight came i and he tried to count his footsteps as he walked, so that he could not think. . r 't i ,. ROMANCE OF VIEWING TINGS AFOOT. 99 CHAPTER XI. THE TRUE ROMANCE OF VIEWING THINGS AFOOT. HE was very footsore when he reached the broad river Meuse, and breakfasted at Moerdyk upon a biscuit, cheese and a glass of milk. A steamer for Rotterdam took him on board at nine o'clock, and buying a deck passage for two francs, he stood among the boors, and counted the windmills along the dykes; and saw the meadow sluices pouring into the channel; and watched the boat-building along the margin; and passed with- out emotion the delightful old city of Dort, where Ary Shaeffer first saw the light fall on grotesque bridges, and into broad canals, and where wiser topers quarrel over schnapps and meerschaums in' the same old hall- where the council of divines tripped over each other's -words for many years. As he proceeded, the river-craft multiplied; fine steamers swept past him with gayly dressed passengers upon their decks ; at Fynoord he saw an iron-clad ram, the only object reminding him of America; and at three o'clock the high, brick ware- houses and thickly tangled spars of Rotterdam Quay leaped like a mirage into view. He took his little bundle of linen in his hand, and threaded several of the leading streets in thehope of finding a modest hotel. A canal lay forever beside him page: 100-101[View Page 100-101] luu ROMANCt I OF YIEIWING THNGS AFOOT, on the one side, and on the other the clean brick dwell- ings, pointing their lofty gables into the street, and hold- ing suspended in mid-air their prying oblique mirrors. There was shipping in the heart of the town; one seemed to feel the piles on which they built the city tottering beneath him. It was like a great mass of houses set up-in the sea,or a whole metropolis being towed across the ocean. There might as well have been no streets at all, for the bridges were one half the high- ways; and all the people had a goggly, amphibious sort e of look and gait, as if they expected Rotterdam to sink directly, and would be relieved if it did. What were the statistics of drowning in such places? asked Apple- gate. It was certainly a desirable city for a suicide, but the youn'g childrien who played in the streets ought to have worn life-preservers. Still, that preservation would only delay their destiny; children and grown-up folks had evidently heard old Noah preaching, and made up their minds for a deluge. But Applegate found no lowly hostelry; he stopped upon a bridge to look at the statue of Erasmus, reading an open Bible, and, being very tired, dropped into the great Kirk, where a congregation of Dutch Lutherans, with their hats on, were listening to an enormous organ with a fabulous number of pipes. After gazing at the tombs of some renowned Bartavian Admirals and states- men, he set out on his search again, withaike ill-suc- cess. - ! However, he found a semi-portentous house called L/Aigle, or "The Eagle," and while he halted irresolute- ly before the threshold, a sprucely dressed waiter ran out and took his bundle as if it were a matter of course. Applegate asked the man timidlyo how much it would be'for a plain dinner; but the reply was a French shrug, and a grimace, intimating a charge so infinitesimal that it could not be expressed. He- did not feel quite at ease, nevertheless; but as'the man had already spread a - table-cloth and set a plate, he lacked resolution to per- sist, and asked for a bifsteck- au pomme de terre, without wine. "Won't you wash your hands while you wait for the dinner, sir?" cried the waiter, in English. Applegate hesitated, but, being very dusty and feverish, complied at length, and was escorted into a large bedroom ad- joining, where he saw his bundle lying on the floor and fresh water prepared; He felt better after bathing, and ate heartily, and hastened to demand the reckoning. ;-You mean to stay all night?" said the man. "Oh, no, sir; I shall take the earliest train for the Hague." * tThen you will pay me two guilders for your chamber, two guilders for your dinner, and one guilder for service." "How, sir?" cried Applegar, trembling. "Five - guilders--eleven francs! But I have not ordered a : chamber." : "You have occupied it, sir; it is reserved for you." "This ispa trap I a-a-swindle!" said Applegate, flush- ing. "I will not pay it." - "How I " shouted the man, in his turn frowning, as if to frighten the boy. , The-latter felt the pulses swell in his neck, his wrists, and in thie muscles of his arms. Frail though he was, -, ]F wF2 page: 102-103[View Page 102-103] 102- n ROMNCE OF VllWING TmNGS AFOOT00 a springy American fist, driven well home, might have laid the villain on his back, and reduced the claim con- siderably. But the man saw that Applegate quailed; he assumed a Cost courageous guise therefore, and set his back agai'na the'door. "When you pay me eleven francs you shall have your baggage and depart, sir. We have laws in this country." Applegate counted the sum out of -his slender store, and laid twenty-six francs back in his vest-pocket. H-e was-turned into the street ceremoniously, and went toward the railway station almost broken-hearted. He had now travelled one-third of the way to starvation; rtwo other such dinners would sht him loose upon the world. But in his desperate fortune he grew bolder, resolving to be murdered on, a tavern threshold sooner than to submit to such extortion again. He paid three francs for his ticket to the Hague, and, pass- ing the famous city of Delft, reached the Dutch capital at twilight. It was the height of the bathing season at the neigh- boring resort of Scheveningen, and the Hague was crowded with fashionable folks of all nations. The ruddy, -whiskered, hoofed Englislman; the small, delicately featured, mustached Frenchman; the brown, indurated Russian; the swarthy, coal-eyed, sinister Spaniard; the pale, abstract, slow-motioned German; the playful-faced, olive-hued, rolling-gaited Italian; the tall, rough-outlined, massive-jawed Swede or Dane; the sallow, .sharp-visaged, alert American; Persians with skins like enamel, and longT lustreless beards; stately Turks and Armenians, with complexions like - ,* ' . ^ tROMANCE OF VIEWING THNGS AFOOT. 103 midnight, -'all these paced the broad, hard pavements of the straight, shaded streets, amongst sedate citizens; and Applegate thought the suburbs of the capital won- derfully like some towns of his own country. He came to the area of the Buiten Hof at last, and passed under the low arch of the Sevangenfront, looking up at the, -grated window of the prison whence the great De Witts were dragged forth to die. Unacquainted with the city, he stopped under the fine trees of Vijverberg Square, and, gazing across the cool lake adjacent, stud- ied the blank wallsof the palace of the States General, and wished that he knew its history. Near a larger and finer grove farther on, called the Voorhout, he es- pied a quiet drinking-house, wedged among some larger hotels, where, having taken a little cheese and beer, he asked leave to deposit I s bundle, and learned the direction of the United States Minister's abode. With a beating heart, and cheeks in which the bloo' flickered, Applegate walked to and fro before theuw dwelling, determining the sentences in which he should make his plea. He was about to beg for the first time - to beg! TO BEG! How the word caught upon his lips! howit lay wedged in his throat like a bitter, substantial thing I how his very heart in shame refused to give it voice I how it seemed to stride like the phantom of his strong pride before the portal of the Minister, and make those twain, the giver and the supplicant, no longer of one race and nation, but wide apart like king and subject, like God and ma I! * "I do not wonder that so many of the poor are dis- honest," said Applegate to himself. "' I am sure it must IfVliu) icuru. LILJJrvZS page: 104-105[View Page 104-105] ' --.u r wo AttUUTL', be easier to steal than to beg." But he touched the knoclker, which rapped like hiq foolish heart, and fal- tered a request to see the resentative of the Repub- lie. SHe was shown into aLnoccupied office, where, beneath some draped flags, portrait of the President hung against the wall, and wtile he read, by the gas- light, titles of law-books, and followed the outlines of countries upon a glaring map, a blonde, broad-shoul- dered gentleman came in and' asked his business in broken-English. "You are not the Minister, sir?" said Applegate. "The Minister is not at home-! he is in Amsterdam; but I act for him." Appleogate stated his case in nervous sentences, and the end for which he came. He quite broke down be- fore he finished, but the gentleman gave him a glass of water, and told him to be calm, though he was himself so cold and unaffected that Applegate was more un- nerved than ever. The other scratched his mustache, at the conclusion, with the end of a silver- pen-holder, and drew diplo- matic lines upon a sheet of paper, tnd said gravely: - "You have been unfortunate, if your story is true." Applegate was too weak to be irdignant. "On various pretexts,'about one-half of the travelling Ame ricans come here to solicit aid. We find so many them rogues and impostors that we .sometimes wrong innocent persons. Some have gambled at the Baths and been ruined. Others are adventurers, who live upon us; many are notAmericans at all, but prey upon ours as- upon other legations; the mass are either liars : or undeserving, and none whom we help ever remem- ber their indebtedness." Applegate felt every word fall sharp and blistering; his tears dried up; his eyes were burning. 'We are not bankers," continued the gentleman; "it is no part of our business to encourage -profligacy or adventure, particularly in this time of war, when no young American should be missing from the post of danger at home. The government places no sum in our hands to be so. distributed. Our dealings are not with individuals at all; that is the function of consuls, though few seem to know it. I think that in your case there is no design, perhaps no blame; still I cannot assist you." "Must I starve?" sobbed Applegate, bursting into tears. "You should have asked that before you left Amer- ica," replied the other, not harshy, but without emo- ! tion. "Why did you come abroad at all, -to escape the draft? Alas! you young men in the States are very happy. You have only one war in one generation; a draft in three; but in Europe there are wars and con- scriptions perpetuallyt; even in peace we make levies, , and then bloodshed is necessary to give them employ- mont." ' Applegate expressed the true cause and object of his travel; but the inspiration which had seemed so beauti- ful when it filled his dreams at home, looked very cul- pable and absurd at this practical episode. i You are a victim of the foot-travelling fever, then," said the gentleman; " that is a sad and a spreading mal- ady. It has been painted up by poets and book- ! ':. page: 106-107[View Page 106-107] 106 ROMANCE OF VIEWING THNGS AFOOT. nmakers, who little think how many fanciful boys they lure abroad to suffer or starve-and has become a species of literature scarcely less baneful than wild or wanton novels. "It-will be well for you, my young friend, if mendi- cancy is the last stage of your career abroad ; some have gone farther in their despair; they have committed' crimes." Applegpte shuddered at the recollection of the medi- tations of a moment before. 9 oi P GLORIES SEEN IN MSERY. 107 CHAPTER XII. GLORIES SEEN IN MSERY. THE Secretary, to whom Applegate appealed, seeing the lad's tremor, spoke again not unkindly, and his face relaxed a little. "I am not severe, my young friend," he said; "I am just. Had we held so plain a talk two months ago, you would not be hungry to-night. Let me take back all that has wounded you; come and share my supper. I myself was young and roving-minded once; but your frank eyes will make me undo all my good counsel; give me your hand." He paid for Applegate's dinner, gravely sociable the while, and took the boy down to a barge at a wide canal side, and, bidding him adieu as the lines were loosened, strode sternly off in the mild starlight. But poor Applegate was not all appeased, and somewhat bitter. He had asked for a little mercy; he received much justice. The Dutch should be anthropophagi to the Americans. The two are alike in nothing. It is the terror of a genuine Hollander's life to be going too fast; an Ameri- can canr never go fast enough. A German does not care how rapidly he travels, but must first be convinced that the way is safe; a Dutchman may know that it is page: 108-109[View Page 108-109] 108 GLORIES SEEN IN MSERY. safe as the revolution of the earth, but still will -prefer to go slower. The Dutch were among the last people in Europe to adopt railways. They fancied a locomo- tive in that it had a pipe and smoked; but were actively averse to cars, and fought the, foreign steam highway contractors as if they had been the waters of the sea, claiming their own. Very many Dutchmen do not to this day ride over the railways. They hold to the old- fashioned barges, which glide along like their own un- ruffled lives over their limpid element, and are well content if at nightfall they be out of sight of their place of embarkation. They sit on deck, sucking their porce- lain pipes, and looking into the waters with piscivorous eyes, as if for the moment only they had come up to sun themselves, like so many terrapins- or hippopotami. They seldom speak, but think deeply, aware that they are beneath the level of the ocean, and are, as a rule, religious, knowing that it is -a daily providence that saves them from drowning. A number of large rivers debouch into this curious country, and, imagin- ing that they have reached the sea, are quite at a loss to know which way to flow; so they go here and there to find an exit, and are for the most part absorbed into te Hollander's anals, and effect their object only by surprisingo turns and twists through many outlets. Young A)plegate foundthe barge on which he had akei passagea capital place for medittion Nobody said. anything, to his knowledge, during the whole night, except te mule-driver, who Was some distance ahead; and one Of his mules, which brayed now and then, So that there should not be absolute silence. It was somewhat chilly; but he passed the long darkness on sodthe'lng arnes o GLORIES SEEN IN MSERY. 109 deck, gazing through the mists into the green polder bottoms, where dim masses of cattle were grazing as upon the floor of the ocean. There were grand moon- light effects, such as we find in the landscapes of Lin- gelbach and Van der Ulst, with groves of trees and tiled bArns and stacks, and villages standing far off, as if at the distance of leagues, yet so minutely re- vealed that the gray night seemed to paint them clearer; and here and there some transverse canal, straight as an arrow, rose glistening to the horizon like Jacob's golden ladder, and its dark barges were like human forms, ascendinga and descending. Now, a black wind- mill, on the dike above them, shook its huge wings like a night-bird preparing for flight, and he could hear the cold gurgle of running waters which it drew from some invisible inundated meadow; there were frequentl ytwo, three, even four of these toiling monsters standing one above another to hoist the water from level to level, and they looked to Applegate like giants passing their burdens from hand to hand to build the Tower of Babel. At midnight they passed through the walls of Leyden by some ponderous gates, and saw the curving trees grow on the walls so heroically defended, while the old church-steeples strained to catch the same stars to which so many starving eyes had prayed not in vain for help. The dim morning found them at Haarlam, immortal in Dutch heroism and Spanish perfidy, and they saw the wind-mills on the bastions of Amsterdam, as the sun lifted the mists from marsh, and lake, and meadow. Applegate sat all this time in a sort of stupor, wonder- ing whether he were more relieved or more wretched. * a page: 110-111[View Page 110-111] "O GLORIES SEEN IN MSERY. At any rate he might now be returned to America; but farewell to Europe would be farewell to love, to Gretchen. If his passion for travel had been rebuked, it nevertheless continued to exist. He wished to remain abroad, for closer and more sober purposes; to breathe the classic air of some old, renowned University; to feel the softening, refining influences of eastern civilization; to master languages rich in literatures and antiquity; to do 'some work, -he knew not what, - which he might bear home as an evidence that he had not roamed for nought. Ever-dreaming Applegate.! with less than, twenty francs in his pocket, with want and danger his ministering spirits, with the future terrible and the present lowering, he has still fine visions of love, of art, of fame! He hastened into the city with a quicker and more hopeful step. The Ambassador was a kind gentleman, -he knew, who would not turn: a young countryman away to beg, to be tempted, to die. He rang the door- bell at the house specified on the. address, and demanded an audience- with the Minister. The reply staggered him like a thunder-clap. His Excellency had gone up the Rhine on a pleasure-trip, and would not return to Amsterdam, but to the Hague. It is a favorite axiom of people who give nothing, that there is work for everybody. If the work of hunting for it be included, the fact must be granted, but the pay need not be. "If I was penniless among strangers," says t"he father of the family, with his feet on the fender, rebuking his son's want of enterprise, I would do anything; --pave the streets, carry bricks in a hod, ship for a whaling voyage." ,. .r V VLWL I JV OLORIEB SEEN IN MSERY. "If there is no work to be found," adds the mother of the family, "one must make work." Applegate wished in his emergency that he could either find work or make it; but few folks are so utterly crushed in spirit that they have no chance of employment. le would not be either a sailor or a soldier,--crafts open to all at all times, -while a single chance for exist- ence remained by less revolting or less enduring en- gagaemerts. It was only a month, -a short summer month,--a little span of time which goes so fleetingly by that it makes no record in our long, laughing lives; but to l survive that span meant years, manhood, old age, to Applegate. He could not fail to receive relief from erica. Selfish, cynical, cruel, as he knew his uncle to be, that wild appeal and his sister's tears must touch the- flinty heart. Inone month he would be supplied; but now, that terrible now, rose before him like the head of the Medusa. He thought of all possible and impossi- ble essays. Should he walk boldly into a strange ware- house cand ask for work? Who could recommend him? Who knew him? Should he take his cap and beg at the crossings? It might come to that; but he hoped God would makle it easier for him to de. Self-destruc- tion? - Ah! one never can be so weary or wretched as to put that question, but death, like a moving, speak- ing thWin, will stride up to chill him; the door of eter- nity will fall a little way ajar; each scruple, however faint before, will expand into a fear, a horror, and the questioner will clutch his misery like a dear companion, and, retreating into life, await his quietus by nature's own lingering processes. page: 112-113[View Page 112-113] 12 GLORIES SEEN IN MSERY. "If one cannot work, nor beg, nor die, what else can he do?" asked Applegate of himself. He strove to give no answer, but pressed his thumbs in his ears, and shut his eyelids tight, and hastened along like one pur- sued by a frightful thing, which, if he turns or parleys, will bind and slay him. He heard the air ringing with laughter. There were snaky shapes between him and the sun; all light, and sound, and life cried out together: "Steal, young Applegate, steal! steal steal!" He stopped breathless, and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. His right hand opened and shut with involuntary, spasmodic force. He tried to recollect a morsel- of prayer, but his tongue was dry and thirsty, and his teeth chattered. Still the air seemed heavy with shapes and voices. "Steal I steal! steal!" they shouted; 'the world owes you bread; the wicked alone prosper; the bad man who robbed you is merry to-day, and you are starving; the city is full of precious things; there are bank-notes and pieces of gold in the broker's window beside you; the man going before has a purse in his hand; behold the valuable watches at yonder jeweller's. Reach out your hand and live I! abstain and perish!" Let him who doubts if there be ghosts and 'demons, come face' to face with a great temptation, like Apple- gate Shrink's! The throne of IIolland, unlike most others in Europe, is propped up, not by,bayonets, but by piles. The king's palace at Amsterdam is built upon several thou- sands of these; but Applegate thought it quite a strong building, though prim and quakerish, like m6st of the structures of the city. He would have entered the I GLORIES SEEN IN MSERY. 113 house adjacent to it, which lie mistook for a zoologica. garden, by the howling as of wild beasts within, but a policeman at the door demanded half a guilder for that privilege, and Applegate withdrew. This was the Bourse. In fact he knew not what course to take, and so sauntered listlessly up a cross street, till he remarked a, large building facing a canal, which proved to be the picture-gallery. He mounted two pairs of stairs, still clinging to his bundle, and entered a room to the left, where, to his ql urprise, a large company of antiquely dressed gentle- men were dining. He turned upon his heel, of course, lifting his hat apologetically, when upon the other side a more numerous party was revealed, - the personage nearest to the eye, being a tall, military figure, whose yellow garb was strangely glazed by the setting sun. A start, and a retreating step, and a lifting of the hands in wonder, brought Applegate to a blank halt. They were pictures which he had been regarding; but as they filled each a whole side of the saloon, and were delinea- tions of the size of nature, and above all, were so life- like in color, drawing, action, and accessory, that they lacked only breath and substance to move, and talk, and think, Applegate's marvel was not that he had been deceived, but that the illusion had been dispelled. The tableau first remarked, indeed, m-ight not have re- vealed itself at all; for it was an interior scene, and an exact imitation of nature, -the great anniversary din ner of the City Guard, by Van der Halst; but while the other was more readily recognized, because of its weird perspective, dazzling effects of light and 'shade, a nd all-pervading idealization, Applegate thought it the page: 114-115[View Page 114-115] "4 GLORIES SEEN IN MSERY. greater painting of the two. The one was perfect truth; the other perfect art. He had heard of old Rembrandt Van Ryn; he had seen portraits of him, - his round hat, his feline eye, his showering ringlets; , but here was a work greater than its maker, - the Am- sterdam "Night Watch." In spite of the boy's sad plight he felt thrills of pleasure; as he studied the master-pieces. His fine, ideal temperament, which suffered so readily and so poignantly, was equally sen- sitive to the pleasant and the beautiful. If the great masters themselves could have sketched his thin, sun- burnt, flushed face, and slender boyish figure, as he stood so dusty and careworn, with his pilgrim's bundle in his hand, the portrait might not have been unworthy; but had they known out of what depths their genius drew him to forget his sorrow in his worship, they must have been prouder of their art. Still as from room to room he passed, now noting a rich waterfall by Ruysdall; now ahazy landscape by Vandervelde; now a group of boors, with pipes, and mugs, and cards, by Teniers or Jan Steen; now Gerard Deouw's King of the genres; the five candles, each throwing a separate reflection upon The Evening School, - he returned ever and anon to the greater achievements of Van der Halst and Rembrandt, till at last the janitor ordered him out to close the building, and the real world looked all the duller and colder because of the contrast. Then the inexorable inquiry returned, What must Applegate do I He had nineteen francs thirty cen- times in his hands, nothing in his stomach; he had not eaten since leaving the Hague, twenty-two hours be- fore. He felt the gnawing of emptiness; the chillness GLORIES SEEN IN MSERY. 115 of the thin blood demanding its meat and drink; the feebleness of the wasting muscles, which would not work without compensation; but he knew that every centime was a blood-drop now; if he must die of star- vation in the end, why not test its bitterness to-day? He determined to disburse nothing till the coming dawn, - a fast of thirty hours! He kept up the great stone mole of the "Y," or the harbor, therefore, to the navy yard and the Dutch East India Company's docks. He scanned the Zuyder Zee, lying whitely northward, and thought of Zaardam, which he could almost see, where Peter the Czar worked as a ship-carpente'r. "Ah!" said Applegate, " that man was born to for- tune; for he could find employment." He stopped at a pair of locks on the quay, beside a light-house, and watched the great array of vessels. Some sailors came swaggering past, with many yellow Malays and Mongols in their party; their coarse faces made him shrink with abhorrence at the thought of a seaman's career. Some half-sunken, decaying barges lay within the mole, and Applegate, too weary to stand, crawled into one of them, and, lying close under the gunwale, so that he could not be seen, marked the sun glide gloriously into the North Sea, and twilight fall upon the spars and gables of Amsterdam. Then he dozed,--not a sleep, but a trance, - and could not stir, but mused' on a thousand mingling themes. He might have slept in reality, but for the sound of heavy feet which clambered over the barges, and as he turned his head to look, a man's hand assisted him to rise, while a voice in French muttered:- page: 116-117[View Page 116-117] "6 GLORIES SEEN IN MSERY. Voilal I knew we would find something; this le- cruiting station is never empty of nights." Applegate asked the man in the same language why he was disturbed. "For no harm, my young maletot," answered the man, who wore heavy whiskers and ear-rings, and looked to be somewhat the worse for drink. "(We are the committee of the Mariner's Relief Society, and have come to give you grog and supper." It struck Applegate that he might have a good meal and bed if he would only hold his tongue, so he followed the men, at their bidding, along the mole to a street at the dock side, where every house seemed to be a tav- ern, there being hotels named after all cities and nations. Into one of the meanest of these the party led Apple- gate, and he was placed at a table behind a plate of steak and potatoes, while the chief of the committee X asked him if he had been to sea. a' -Yes, sir,"' said Applegate, telling the literal truth. "On what route, morn mousse?" "Between New York and England, sir, and between London and Antwerp." "Good i" cried the man, pushing a glass of gin to- ward Applegate; "you ought to circumnavigate the globe. What say you?" "I would rather not, sir, if you please." "Drink!" shouted the other, with boisterous hospi- tality. "How would a brig for Java o you?-ten months before the mast; good wages; fair climate; picked crew?" "I do not wish to go to sea again, sir." What!" smiled the man, -- "not go to sea? Who GLORIES SEE IN MTSERY. 117 that has once known salt air, salt water, and salt beedf was ever again content on shore? How dare you de- cline our highly respectable proposition! Up with your glass, by the high Admiral I and give us a health, you young diablotin d'enfer!" 'Drink!" shouted the others, crowding around, and making frightful menaces. Applegate, some what alarmed, put the glass to his lips, and fortunately spilled the major part of the draught.; for that which he swallowed made him cry out, and burned him like a breath of fire. A moment afterwards he felt the room whirl round; the loud voices close beside him sounded hollow and far off; he was pushed roughly forward, tho'gh how or by whom he hardly knew, and saw, as through a great fog, a cave or kennel, dimly lit, with turbulent and drunken forms strewn here and there upon the floor, or wildly rushing to and fro. There was a peal of hardly audible laughter; a door shut behind him with a dull, jarring sound, and Apljlegate knew that he had fallen prostrate, and that the place grew suddenly black and silent. The bells of the Nieuwe Kirk calling three o'clock were Applegate's first monitors of consciousness. He was going rapidly along a quay, borne between; two powerful persons, and he saw that other couples pre- ceded him, each escorting some impotent or inebriate individual. His brain was painfully throbbing as if he. had been sorely bruised, and there was a nauseous sen- sation at his stomach, as of some deadly poison recently expelled. How came he in this strange prodessiqn, moving on so stealthily in the hush of the morning? I, v page: 118-119[View Page 118-119] "8 GLORIES SEEN IN MSERY, Had he fallen into the hands of the law for some real or suspected offence? The occurrences of the evening rose slowly, separately, to mind. He noted the dark hull of a brig lying off in the channel, on whose deck red lamps swayed hurriedly. And Applegate knew that he had been entrapped by some shipping-shark to sail against his will on a longs and dangerous voyage! It rushed upon him like a sALsh of light, or of water; his sight grew clearer, and his brain beat more equally; he thought of the sultry tropics, and the terrors of suns and hurri- canes; the long, dreary watches in the blistering nights, tle slippery labor among the shrouds and rigging, with the rope's end laid upon his back and the rain beating upon[ his head; the Java fevers ; the poisonous serpents and ferocious beasts which haunt that vast island; its treacherous people, who killwith a smile, -these and a host of as bitter pictures came as at a summons to the boy: he felt that to depart would be to die; he might die here also, but it would be Europe, civilization, home. He determined, therefore, to escape, though they should slay him, and by a desperate effort freed himself from his unwary conductors, and uttered one piercing scream, which rolled in sharp echoes down the files of houses. They were upon him in a moment, but he struggled with hand and foot and tooth, shrieking the while. Their palms were upon his mouth, their fingers upon his throat, blows rained upon his face, and his blood trickled down his garments. Yet he knew by their haste that they were startled; 'shutters and sashes clicked here anid there; ana philosophic watchmen rat- tled their wooden clappers at every corner; quick feet pursued, gaining reinforcement as they approached; GLORIES SEEN IN 34ISERY. 119 and as Applegate raised his voice for a new alarm, the villains hurled him aside, and kept on with their still unconscious victims. The hue and cry passed; he had strength to raise himself and stagger into a threshold; and, wishing to %be subjected to no. examination nor delay, stolq thank- fully from the spot after a breathing spell, and kept into the heart of the city. page: 120-121[View Page 120-121] 1t20 SEcRl'S'URv E AT THE HAGU. CHAPTER X Ill. SERVITUDE AT THE HAGE. HE walked rapidly, taking no note of objects or di- rection, till the meanness of the houses and the grow- ing filthiness of the :streets admonished him that he was in the Hebrews'-quarter. These were the scavengers and bankers of the world; yet-from their multitude of abject ( avaricious, came one man who passed the do- main of commbon thoughts, and into one idea drew the heavens, the suns, the world, and God. "It might be," said Applegate, "that out of this samne street, whose dingy brick gables, half-lit by the street lamps and their long reflections on the water, looked down upon him like solemn Rabbis, -even from this mart of cast- away garments, and rusty metal,-the spark of his grand theory glimmered upon Baruch Spinosa. Nothing in the world is lost; who knows it so well as a Jew? All death is reabsorption, all life regeneration. In these respects's isnot a Jew's quarter a miniature of nature? Whatever is worn out is gathered into it. It was strange," said Applegate, "that the greatest of theists was born in a stable; but stranger that the first of the pantheists emerged from the purlieus of modern Israel." So made the young pedestrian the circuit of the Grand Keizers Gracht in the loneliness of the dark morning. His weary feet rang upon its bridges; he looked from its quays down its lines of huddling bar- ges, and marked the shadows of stately mansions sway- ing in its depths, like a city of the amphibia. And he felt like one roving in the prairies of the ocean; no human thing dwelt around him with whom he could speak or plead; three hundred thousand people lay asleep within the sound ofhis'voice; to him they might aswell have been dead. In utter solitude, he continued to pace outthe night; and, passing through the Willem's gate as it was first unbarred at dawn, strolled down the Haarlem road, without a resolve, without a goal. It was not long ere he reached the site of what had once been the Lake of Haarlem. Rich meadows covered it now, and sheep and cattle grazed where the fishes used to swim. There were long barns, and the cottages of boors, amidst its drains and sluices; and great dikes of earth and stone, enclosing the vast basin, kept hack the tide which yearned ever to regain it. The high- way on which Applegate walked was paved with " klink- ers," or bricks set upon their edges. It ran upon the top of a wow dike, and the lank Dutch wagons which peasd alongf were steered by a pole at the driver's/feet, as by a rudder. One might be saidto navigate even the roads in Holland. Now and then he met the drag-boats or Trekscheiten, in the canals par- allel, and could hear the mule-driver's cry of " huy," or "vull," as the barges passed each other. It was odd to look down at the phlegmatic faces on the gliding 'deck, and the few passengers on the Roeff,or better cabin, who clustered in the open space beside the steersman. Some of the craft which he thus marked were the turf 6 page: 122-123[View Page 122-123] 122 SERVITUDE AT THE TAGUE. potten, or peat boats, whose exploits are among the chief glories of the Dutch navy. These were always ! tenanted by a whole family; children were bofn upon ; them; men and women lived and died upon them; all the comedy or tragedy of life was there enacted; they were the same home to thousands of Dutch watermen that are to us our abiding-places in village, or farm, or city, and hallowed by as many associations and memo- ries. That his home is not fixed, but moves, is not more perceptible to the bargeman than that the world revolves to us all. Indeed, he may go abroad and carry home with him; he is at sea, but can go a-horse- back; he has a vegetable garden on the deck of his ship, and the roses bloom- in his cabin windows; he has his house-movings as we have; his wife takes the helm, with her baby at her breast; his eldest son rides the mule, and may be called an engineer of cavalry; while the urchins mind the chickens and geese, which have an abundance of duck pond. There were willows along the road, of whose boughs thatchings are woven for the dikes, and often some in- tersecting lane led through avenues of clipped and painted shade trees to a Dutch mansion, where pyra- mids of flower-pots decked the lawn; and above the variegated coldrs of the gables, a cart-wheel on the chimney-top gave rest and hospitality to domestic storks. Applegate thought of the fable of ,Esop, where Jupiter made the Stork king of the frogs. - Had the Hollanders no terror of the old Greek satirist-when they crowned the same bird. In truth they bear out the fable, living as they do among bogs and ditches, ( , - 123 SERV1TUIyE AT THE HAGUE. and so encompassed by water that they must hop per- petually. The workmen afield, in their coarse wooden shoes, looked even less animate than the speckled cattle and the black Friesland ponies; and Applegate thought that the quaintness of the views scarcely compensated for tleir) monotony; though the ghoulish windmills eore always a source of marvel to him. There are of these nine thousand in Holland; what does not that country derive frolim the wind?-though it owes more to the water. The night found Applegate so troubled that he did not eel his weariness. At a little village on the banks of the Rhine, he lay down in a cart,and could hear the churning of the waters,-the same which rushed past Gretchen's feet at Bingen; and to his fever came dear shapes at moments,--his sister, far awav; his grim aunt, in her graveclothes; himself lying in his coffin, and his sweetheart placing flowers in his cold hand. From these strange visions he wakened now and then to feel the night winds cutting him like knives; to hear the farm dogs bay, and the river go by with a- sucking sound; to think - worst torture of all - of what he had been and of what he was; to shudder at what he might become! He had a sort of conviction at dawn that the end of his journey was the Hague. Still, it was no purpose. He had never reasoned upon-it at all. He only went on like one, Who must do something; there was relief in rapidity. Before him, everywhere, horrible phantoms sprang out of the ground; if he should halt, they would grow giants and clog his way. So he put his feet upon page: 124-125[View Page 124-125] 124 SERVITUDE AT THE HAGUE. them as- they rose, and at every figure that he crushed, he added one pace to his journey. At last the spires of. the Hague leaned against his eyes, and he sauntered through its streets like one blind. "Your time grows short, young Applegatel " said Reason, calling him out of stupor; "you have only fif- teen francs. If you get no help to-day you are lost. Look about you! Resolve what to do!" There was but one chance for life,-the 'Minister's again! They tell a story of a ruined gourmand, who bought a pheasant with his last guinea, and ordered it to be served with the richest sauce, and picked it to the bone -- and calmly shot himself dead. In a similar spirit Applegate walked into a hotel near the centre of the city and demanded a dinner. It was not a large, but a very respectable hotel. There were shade trees and a cool canal before it; flagstones covered the pavement; a fine lamp hung in the vesti- bule; the hall was chequered with marble; a sign-board in gold letters overarched the door, bearing these words: HOTEL DE HUYCENS, PAR BYKEREZ JEDEL. The landlord himself, as it seemed, came out to wel- come Applegate; he addressed him in French and Ger- man, and sent in a lad to brush his clothes. He was ushered into an empty saloon, where there were many books and papers, and, while waiting for his dinner, stepped up to a mirror to regard himself. His eyes were so bright that they looked to make up one-half of SERyI'TUDE AT THE HAGUE. 125 i..s pinched and sallow face; his dark clothing was rumpled and stained; his shoulders were bent like an old man's, and his hands twitched, at intervals, like a paralytic's. He sat at .the table-side and leaned his head upon his palms; he thought of the mendicant appeal which he was to make, and of that hard, exacting at- tache' who had cut him to the quick before. Yet it must be done. Perhaps after a good dinner he might have more courage to state his case. There could be this one humiliation only; if it failed, he must starve. Some tears came to the young traveller's eyes as he thought of his grief and loneliness; the day was warm; the chair was soft; he was weary and drowsy; the tears were not dry upon his cheek when his lids closed heavily, and the waiter, coming in with the dinner soon afterward, found him chafing and peaking in his sleep. The Herbergier, Mynheer Eden was summoned; he crept into -the back room and called Mevrouw Jacoba, his wife; the little Edels, seven or eight in number, fol- lowed after, and they stood in silence to see the uncon- i scious youn g EXelander. "I wonder if he has got much money?" said the Her- bergier. "I don't believe he will pay a stiver to the garcon," thought the latter official. "He has a'sad, sweet face," said the vrouw, kissing the baby -which she carried, -" he has been weeping; perhaps he is poor or sick." "In either case," muttered Mynheer Edel, " he will not suit at the Hotel Huygens." "Hush, Rykert," said the. mother of eight; "you are not so hard of heart as of speech; what would you say page: 126-127[View Page 126-127] if one of our little kinderen were lost in some strange land?" ^ Mynheer Edel was about to ask what business. any little Edel could have abroad, when his wife held out , the latest of that name, who proceeded to pull the Her- bergier's nose', and smile, with an oystery sort of eye, as all Dutch babies do, so that the head of the family e allowed himself to be kissed, and they all went out in procession to let the young Engelander sleep. l When the garcon came into the saloon again at dark, ! the - young Engelauder lay upon the floor, like one who had fallen down in a fit. They sent for a physician; a broad-shouldered, blonde, severe-featured gentleman answered the summons. He knelt by Applegate's side alid looked once into his face. I: "Give the lad a good bed and food," he said. "I will see that he has medical 'attendance. You may send the bill to the American Legation." There are cool, false pauses in men's fever dreams; fresh water upon the lips; the murmur of forest trees in the desert of our parch and dustiness; pure faces which exorcise the goblin multitude that flits, and grins, and howls about us, and pleasant graves in familiar church-yards, which reach out of the green grass their mossy, garble hands to jure us into their shadiness and quietness forever. ' But while these came to Appl gate, as to all of us, who like him are delirious of b in and shattered of nerve, there was one angel w ho dwelt beside him. * The imikeeper's wife. stood sentinel between the lad and death. Her kindness was one of those anomalous things J , '-. ' 11 which are to be explained by reference to some law of human nature, not by any doutwar( circumstances. She had borne many children; the little laced pin cushion of silk, which announces an increase of family, hung once every year lpOn Mevrouw Edel's door- knocker. -She was the jest and e nvy of every house- wife in the Hague. Perhaps those women who are ordained to be mothers to many are given a larger pro- portion of charity.- The society of little children is said to make one soft, forgiving and generous, like chil- dren,. But much m iore kindly must be the influence of very young children like Mevrouw Edel's. She had been seen with a baby time immemorial; her fanliy went up like the notches of a Dutch gable. She walkled along the Hague canals like a respectable cluck with a numerous brood. She was as round and as sedate as a Gouda cheese, and her progeny were re- nowned for their stolid good-humor. Her babies never cried; she welcomed each new arrival without a mur- /- mur, though her -husband as astonished at her fruit- fulness, and had some idea that the Lord who gave , would have to provide; he contented himself with smoking over the affair, and was never known to come to any conclusion whatever. The Herbergier had been a valet de place in the beginning; he travelled with foreign gentlemen as courier afterward, and, picking up some odds and ends of language, became an interpreter at a Parisian railway station. At last he married the -Mevrouw, who was the daughter of an old publican, and succeeded to the hotel. Applegate sawlittle of him; but, after convalescence, talked much with this lady, and was grateful for her page: 128-129[View Page 128-129] 1ZO -SERVIT UDE AT THE HAGUE, at grave consideration. He was able at length to walk across the shiningly scrubbed floor and sit upon a lounge beside the window. ' Thence he saw through the foliage of the maples the gilded prows of barges grouped in the cool canals, and wondered at the tame storks stalking along the quays, and marked the l herring boats come in amid great concourses of Hol- landers, who exhibited on this occasion only some ena- thusiasm and anxiety. The Emperor Charles V. made X a pilgrimage to the grave of him who discovered the mode of preserving herrings. 'Applegate would have done the same reverence to the man who could annihi- late them. Herring, cheese, sausage, schnapps, smoke, -these appeared to be the component of Dutch exist- ence. His sensitiveness as to the character of his relation with the Hotel de Huygens was not entirely a allayed when he met his benefactor, the attache. The same grave, practical gentleman called to see him, but made no reference to his benevolence till Applegate r stammered thanks. "You will be bound in conscience and in honor to pay me,^ said the attache, "when- you have acquired the means. I am not a hard taskmaster, but I am just."- j This gentleman proved to be an author, and main- . tained relations with the American legation only in so far as they gave him literary facilities. He brought an : '! old musty memoir from the State Archives one day, and told Applegate to discharge a part of his debt by I copying it. The boy thought before he had gone far, that the work would leave a margin in his favor; on i the contrary, a second and a third document werecon- H signed to him. He was still weak, though proud, and he worked earnestly; but not till he had concluded a . G fourth paper did the attache bestow one commenda - "I had not been deceived in you, Applegate," he said at last. "You are patient and persevering, and you owe me nothing now but thanks. My indness was not so much in that I befriended you, as in that I gave you opportunity to repay me. In the first I did you charity; in the second, justice." Applegate was amused at the grimness of his bene- factor. "You are right, sir," he said; " when you gave me bread you made me dependent; when you gave me work you set me free." The gentleman relaxed somewhat of his severeness. "Are you, then, so anxious to discharge yourself, Applegate? I had hoped that your frank, fresh nature would comprehend me with time, and would it were so; for your applause should be just." Still that crisp, hard, heartless word! It placed the man so far in the cold skies ; it repelled the boy, though he struggled to climb to the other's neck. "Ah 1 I see your face," said the attache; " you need not speak; it tells me that I have your esteem, nothing more. I am not one who can call forth sympathy. If t I were oily-tongued, plausfible, and voluble, I might ? pass for a kind man, though I should be selfish and i peevish. But I am just; exacting nothing that I will not myself perform; a man of proof, not of promise, and severe only that I may be impartial. Are these un- amiable traits, Applegate? Look at me, my boy! If page: 130-131[View Page 130-131] 130 - SERVITUDE AT THE HAGUE. I were marblel would thaw to you, Tell me that you ( will hold me in 'brotherly affection." "I owe you my life, sir," cried Applegate; "you shall have my gratitude forever." "O Applegate," answered the attache, recalling his stern, hard mien, "you admire me, perhaps; you wish to like me; but you cannot love me." Applegate felt his eyes grow wet when his friend had departed. -He thought himself wicked and ungrateful; for he had grieved his benefactor. But who loves the judge upon the bench, the terrible jury, though it returns us innocent? They have their reward; but it is not love nor tears. Shortly afterward the good woman came in. "Your friend, Mynheer Applegate, has gone to Brussels,"' she said; "he will return to the Hague no more. He has paid all your bills for a week to come, and left this note for you." Two gold Williams fell from:the envelope as it was opened; a computation only was enclosed. Applegate had earned that sum over and above the money ex- pended for him. He hastened to overtake his patron, to express his obligation; but heard only the shrill whistle of the departing train; the attache was beyond recall. Prior to this time Applegate had made the Mevrouw acquainted with his circumstances. He based all hope upon his uncle's letter; four weeks had expired since he consigned his own missive to the ocean ; it was almost time for the reply. In the interim he lived frugally at the Herberg, where he had won some perceptible regard from the proprietor, and the sober fondness of SERVITUDE AT THE HAGUE. 131 the vrouw and kinderin. He spent many evenings in the Somerhuis of the Edels. It stood in the family lot at the margin of the town. The motto of " lust en rust was gilded in its iron gate, and one made his way bj box borders, fantastically trimmed, and a stagnant fish- pond, to a pavilion or cupola, at the' extremity of the garden. Here the family gathered together to drink tea, to meditate, and to smoke. A canal moved sluggishy beneath them, on whose banks lay thousands of monotf onous frogs, all saying the same thing with great ener- gy, and the Edels listened to them with a sort of ex- pressionless delight, like folks to whom the garden of Eden had been restored. The Hotel de Huygens would have been a good sort of place but for the pains taken to make it so. A small town could have been kept in order with less outlay and bustle than the Mevrotw expended upon this one ho se. She seemed to mistake it for the Augean stable, - a delusion which the proximity of the family cow would have borne out, - and several canals were turned through it daily. But Saturday was the great era of purification, or sc7oonmaken. Then the small Edels, Joris the waiter, the cook and the cham- bermaid, were solemnly organie and and armed. The Mevrouw indicated the points of attack, moving grimly to and fro, like a general of brigade-of firemen. They deluged the hotel Huygens; they scrubbed it from curb to garret; they chased the last spider of his race to the roof, and at the finding of a lean, lone mouse-or cockroach, cried out in horror. Such mop- ping and rinsing and sweeping and sanding were never known before. The little mirrors or spieges over the page: 132-133[View Page 132-133] 132 SERVITUDE AT THE HAGUE. pavement shone at last like burning glasses; every brick in the sidewalk glittered; one might have eaten his dinner upon the clean, bright floors, but to have done so would be made a capital crime by every house- wife in Holland.^ The place wore its clean dress indeed when Sunday came; it was like the first Sabbath after Noah's flood; then the Edels went in procession out of their ark to the gably Vischmarket church. They filled two pews, and if the temperature afforded any excuse, the vrouw's vuurstoof, or foot-stove, was filled with hot coals. The Herbergier. sat with his hat on, after the fashion of all the congregation, which seemed to Applegate not unlike the famous assembly of the fishes before St, Anthony. ! *I . . . ny A REBUFF FROM AMERICA. 133 - CHAPTER XIY. - A REBUFF FROM AMFoRICA. IT was not until Applegate's gold Williams were al- most gone, that an envelope, endorsed by Margaretha, came to his address. Two letters fell into his hands as he tremulously broke the seals. He knew the delicate J superscription of the one; the crisp, hard-handed writ- ing of the other. His sister still loved him; his uncle had relented and helped him! Applegate held the sealed paquets in his hand a mo- ment, like one who gives the pigeon rest before he un- ties its burden. He was to be free again, - no longer a beggar and a vagabond, but able to resume his bright pilgrimage and fulfil his manlier ambition. He shut his eyes, like one receiving an invisible bene- diction, and thought of the goodness of G d and the pleasantness of the world. Then he broke the seal of his uncle's letter, and read these brief paragraphs:- "MY DEAR NEPmEW : We have heard of your safe arrival in Europe, and regret to learn that you were at - first unfortunate. We hope that you have righted up : f aR page: 134-135[View Page 134-135] 134 A REBUFF FROM AMERICA.. before Vie arrival of these few lines. Making due ai- lowanc for your heat and enthusiasm, and wishing you all succe s in climbing the hill of fame, etc., "I am, your uncle, respectfully, CYRUS SHRINK." But there was no money! D- id his uncle mean to in- ' sult him? Perhaps the second letter would explain the first. A single gold dollar lay in -its smooth folds as he perused it. 'Mr DEAR'BROTHER: I shudder to anticipate your despair while you read these lines. I have pleaded in vain with our uncle to send you some assistance; but he is immovable. I fear that he would not have replied but to mock you. He says that he will subscribe noth- ing to encourage vagabondism; ;that your errand was vague and purposeless, and your trouble deserved. I repeat these things, dear brother, to show you how futile are your hopes in him. But he is old and wifeless, and his charities have become parched. Do not upbraid him; pity him! For me, poor me! what can I do for my only brother? "Oh, how weak are we women! I have nothing to sell. . He will give me nothing, -though he is some- times kind, - because he knows that it will go. to you. We have one hope, dear Applegate, - if you can sur- vive till its consummation: I think I shall soon be mar- ried, and to one who has enough of means and love to help you on your way. I would entreat with him, for your sake. Alas! like you, he is over the sea. 'Be courageous, my brother! I have indeed, misin- 4 A REBUFF FROM AMERICA. terpreted your character if you Will yield to the least of human afflictions,- poverty! Let these words come like gold to you. Be they bread, labor, learning, travel! Above all, do not be ashamed. Fear not to ask employment and assistance. Take care that with much pride you be not a craven. In this World we must all-sometimes be mendicants. The poor have a right to relief. They carry Christ's bill of credit. 'Be equal to your misfortunes, Applegate. My heart goes out to you, poor brother; my prayers go with it. God keep and befriend you! "YOUR SISTER." With all these consolations, Applegate's disappoint- ment was dreadful. He regretted that he had humbled himself to beg, only tolbe so insulted. Yet reading anew his sister's bracing counsels, he resolved to con- sume no moments in reflection, which to such natures as his brings most often melancholy and inaction. He said some lofty things aloud to himself, and, like one buckling on helmet and steel for a long battle, walked straight to Mynheer Edel. He related his dis- appointment, and asked hard work as a dear favor. The Herbergier begged' leave to think. This would have been fatal, for all Hollanders think eternally, and Applegate's needs were pressing; so he summoned the Mevrouw, who took the Herbergier in front, while all the smaller fry assailed him in flank and rear. They plead his cause, not well, but stubbornly, and the sedate proprietor, who was not used to such importu- nity; relieved himself by relieving Appleogate. "You may live here a month, young Ameriktlan," he page: 136-137[View Page 136-137] 136 A REBUFF FROM AMERICA. said, between the whiffs of his pipe; "if anything you can do will increase the resources of the Hotel de Huy- gens, I will pay you something at the end of that time. There is an Englishman in the hall; go and speak to him." Applegate commenced hiaslabors at once. There were many English voyageurs of the middle class stopping at the Hague, and to these he made him- self useful. The ancient Jan, named Joris, conceived at first a violent antipathy to Applegate; but, seeing that the lat- ter was so over-scrupulous as to pocket none of the fees, relented and tolerated him. Joris was a representative Garcon, -the most im- portant class of people in Europe. He was a great rogue, and being paid no salary in the hotel, helped himself by plundering the guests. He took toll from their brandy and wine, made ingenious additions to their bills, reduced the charge upon all outside pur- chases, and mulcted also the tradesmen from whom he bought. He was the most unblushing, the most adroit, and the most cowardly individual whom Applegate had ever known. His battles were mainly with the English; for it would have been hazardousfto deceive the people of the country. The Englishman has no genius for travelling. He is avoided by all Ifrom whose friendship he might be bene- fited, and disliked by those who live upon his patron- age. - He believes foreigners to have no virtue. He goes abroad, prepared to be swindled, but still protests against what he declares inevitable. Laboring under the delusion that his ancestry once conquered the con- A REBUFF FROM AMERICA. 137 tinent, he looks upon it with undisguised contempt, and has too little dignity not to be consequential. 4 He wears his selfishness upon his sleeve. He is cold and uncompanionable in strange society. He is forever in- stituting contrasts derogatory to the people who enter- tain him, and travels, not to learn the customs and scenes of other lands, but to see how far more praise- worthy are those of his own. As a rule, he has no aesthetic cultivation. He will miss the picturesque garbs and cottages of a thousand peasants, to see one fustian lord. At home a parasite, he would stand abroad for an aristocrat. He himself introduced the system of hotel peculation, by which he is the greatest sufferer, and one half of the pompous airs which he takes upon himself in a French or Belgian inn, would mulct him with an English landlord in the expenditure of his whole voyage. Joris was a necromancer with these "Islanders," as they called themselves. They could never be disguised by registering their names as Germans or Americans, nor by speaking any continental language. He. called them " milord," to their great delight, and charged it in their bills. He played them off against each other, and lied with inflexible gravity. He heard himself de- nounced as a thief and an extortioner, as if conscious of the honor which those titles conferred, and bowed them out of the door, plucked and furious, with a re- finement of politeness at once cruel and irresistible. Now and then some weary pedestrians came along with sore feet and pinched purses, - seeking thisame romance which had made a menial of Applegate. When these entered the Hotel de Huygens, Joris l , , page: 138-139[View Page 138-139] 138 A REBUFF FROM AMERICA. stood aloof. He knew that they could pay no fees, and he pitied them, because he ,respected Applegate. The' latter would feed and lodge them at the minimum rate, and send them on their way rejoicing; though once or twice some poor fellow would break down at the inn, and lie sick and spent from sheer hunger and fatigue, and depart, ere half-restored to health, fearful that his means would fail. Applegate esteemed as his most unpleasant function that of attending the railway station, to lure travellers to the Huygens House. Here he fell into bad company. His fellow- "runners" were consummate rogues, and their craft and impudence should have made them far more suc- cessful than his own blushes and timidity. On the contrary, these very disqualifications recommended the lad to many. His clear English cry sounded more distinctly than the mispronunciation and polyglotism of the boisterous. He had tot their tenacity; but those whose ears he obtained, looked at him once and consented. He seldom came to the hotel without a guest, and could have made much additional money, acting as commissionaire, had he' obtained leave of ab- sence. One day, as the train for A-msterdam dashed into the Hague Station, Applegate remarked that all the hotel "harpies" were attracted toward a point of the plat- form occupied by a very large and showily dressed woman, whom they were pushing to and fro, to her great loss of breath and patience. "Bolivar Oates," said the lady, "you shall not kick the legs of these gentlemen. Titus Oates, are these RA REBUFF FROM AMERICA. 139 nasty Hebrews to abuse me without redress? Go away with your frightful German cards! Yes, take us to the Royal Poodle, - that must be a respectable house." Applegate, drawing near, espied his old companions of the Atlantic. There was Mr. Oates contracting for chambers with all his business spirit, and Bolivar mak- ing grimaces and sallies at his host of tormentors, and while the lad stood off, amused and in doubt what to do, a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and a frank voice cried, "YWhy, Master Applegate, what has brought you here?" It was Miss Kent. She told him, briefly, of their career in Prussia and Saxony, and, learning his own humble profession, summoned the whole partj to Applegate's side. "Hollo! young Shrink," said Mr. Oates. "Cast away and saved, are you? But that is the history of all genius. A man can't appreciate a fortune till he has lost two. The American who has never been bank- rupt ought to forfeit his citizenship. Hang on! young genius of liberty, hang on!" Here young Bolivar proceeded to take Applegate by assault; he appeared to have been acting upon his father's principle, for a fresh scar indented his fore- head. But Mrs. Oates rebuked his boisterous gladness, by saying:--; "Behave yourself, Bolivar Oates! After your'fa- ther's vulgar expressions, I do not wonder at your familiarity. Come, Miss Kent!" They were well pleased with the hotel, and ordered chambers for a week. Mr. Oates insisted upon Applegate's joining the party at breakfast, and then they sallied out to see the town. page: 140-141[View Page 140-141] "O YOUNG kMXVRIOA'S VIEW OF ART * , ' - ^ , CHAPTER XV. YOUNG AMERICA'S VIEWS OF ART. "Howl are you pleased with Holland?" said Apple- gate to the head of the family. "t The Dutch," answered Mr. Oates, "are folks after my own heart. Their whole history is one long con- tract. The chief glory of a nation is said to be its pub- liciworks; then the men who build 'em must be its heroes. Now Holland is nothing but a great public work. Its construction almost rivals creation. Its constructors were the, foremost of mankind. They lifted up the ocean and moved- it back. Moses himself did no more, and the Red Sea closed again; but the waves recover nothing from the Dutch. They have reared cities out of chaos; they have sown the bottom of the sea with grain; they have made what one of your poets calls impossible,- paths in the deep water,- and, driving gigantic piles through the billows, they dwell like! crows on the tree-tops; and what is more, they hang' on!" "Nonsense!n " said Mrs. Oates. "They appear to me to be disgusting people; they have no nobility; their whole country smells'like a cheese-box. It is the only place in which I am hot anxious to go into society." "I find nothing, here With which to sympathize,' YOUNG AMERICA'S VIEWS OF ART. , 141 added Miss Kent. "They have the Protestant virtues, which are less amiable than the vices of the Catholic countries. There are here no gorgeous architectures; no fairs or fetes to enliven the streets; no coquetdsh girls to brighten the vistas; none of that laughilgness and luxuriance which are developed out of art and sin- fulness. These solemn gables are churchified. Every- body's face is a Bible in black letter. The people are all 'good,' and good people are never merry. "Compare Belgium with Holland. This is the richer country. Its people dwell in better houses and wear finer clothes, and in commerce and condition are far ahead of their neighbors. But they have pronounced an edict against the beautiful. They have burned their precious images and paintings, and set up, il place of the picturesque, a frightful worship of the grotesque. Bel- gium is flat, like Holland; but out of its less fertile meadows rise those grand gothic piles, which are awful and beautiful as religion. There is a levity about its peasantry which redeems them from the Dutch stupidity, even if it manifests their lesser piety. They have lights and shades of character, without which one cannot be affected- and they have reverence, without which there can be neither poetry nor poets." "Let us say nothing against Dutch art till we visit the gallery," said Applegate. They were now upon the steps of the building, and paused a moment on the ground floor to regard the clothing in which William, Prince of Orange, was mur- dered. He was silent, phlegmatic, inflexible, preserv- - ing, He belonged to that class of men best fitted to stand at the head of nations, least fitted to adorn their page: 142-143[View Page 142-143] "2 YOUNG AMERICA'S VmEWS OF ART. ) episodes. He was like Washington, a sort of pole star, shining ever steadily and mildly, while the bril- liant lights of his time, marching to and fro in, their orbits, are known chiefly by- the relations which- they bore to him. Against the mail of his prudence and integrity the best lances in Europe were crushed in vain. His death is the most stirring event iin his biography; he would be the last man, even in Holland, to garnish a romance. Ascending a stair and entering an apartment to the left, they stood before the great Rembrandt: a Dutch Professor Dissecting a Dead Body. For a little while they looked at it silently, and then Mrs. Oates tossed up her head:- "-Fudge!" she said; "do you call that a fine picture?? There is nothing grand about it; the men are just such as we see every day at the table d'hote." "Perhaps they have-never been into society, Mar!" said young Bolivar. "They have dignity at least," replied Applegate, timidly; "and are not .the truest representations the best? Besides, there is something beyond nature in this painting, They are no more than men,-but men depicted in their highest, profoundest moments. It is real, but the best of reality. Mark the faces of ail the pupils,- how'like and how unlike they are I Can you say to a certainty what each of them is thinking? Would. you know what characters such men might have if they would walk down from the canvas? The painter:has fastened into their faces that enigma which we carry in our own. He has set up people who do "not look only, but who think, who reason, and who '. YOU1NG AMERICA'S VIEWS OF ART. 143 . make us do likewise. See, also, his wonderful execu- tion. The dead man has not only the color of decay; there is something more remarkable than color which envelops him. It is light,--the weirdest and most : ghostly light with which imagination can invest phan- toms or angels. You seem to see the flicker of this light upon all the witnesses. Is it emitted from the corpse? Is it the sun straying into the chinks of suoie vault? It falls in spots and plashes here and there, marring in no degree the reality of the scene, but mak- ing the whole picture float as if in some vivid dream, and marking, like the flame upon uneasy graves, the naked body lying so prone and pulseless beneath." "The whole thing seems to have been varnished with the white of an egg," added Mrs. Oates; " but what a disgusting subject! There are the bare, bloody ten- dons of the wrist, and the horrible Air. What-do-you call him? --Tulp, isn't it?-is turning the hand with a prong. Do you suppose any folks of taste would hang that abomination in their parlors?" "It reminds me of my old friend Holmes, the em- balmer, in the army of the Potomac," said Mr. Oates. "I always, admired that man; he went down into the grave and contracted with death. I used to steal upon him of midnights, at the Pamunlkey 'White House, working in a shelter tent with a couple of- corpses for his companions, 'Bulb-throb -bulb-throb'-went his battery, as if trying to wake up the hearts of the subjects; and he was merry as a cricket. He sent me a circular once, explaining his system and soliciting my patronage. He was a man of boundless ambition; he stooped to nothing less than a battle-field." [ VV s rvrr page: 144-145[View Page 144-145] "4 YOUNG AMERICA'S VIEWS OF ART. 'I have been asking myself," said Miss Kent, "if the, subject is a defect? One sees so many sacred and historical paintings, that a change even to the disagree- able of daily life -is a relief. Besides, why should a painful scene be deprecated in art when we commend it in literature? There is a fascination in blood which we cannot gainsay. Take that livid corpse from Rem- brandt's picture, and how greatly our interest is diminished. (Besides, the artist has chosen the least revolting episode of a dissection. Yet even without the red place upon the forearm the subject would seem tame." Then they looked at the best specimens of Teniers and Jan Steen, and Applegate again admired an inte- rior scene, by Gerard Deouwj--the most graphic and minute of genre painters, -and at last they stopped before "Paul Potter's Bull," at which young Bolivar cried out boyishy, half believing it to be alive. "Now," said Mrs. Oates, "I suppose you admire that also. For my part, it should never enter my saloon. What can be so reprehensible as a nasty cow -particularly a male cow- set up before ladies and children? I am sure good society don't do such things." "The Emperor Napoleon," interrupted Applegate, "rated this among the best paintings of Europe, -as the fourth in order." "Nonsense, young man," replied Mrs. Oates, looking through profound space upon Applegate; "don't tell me of the Emperor Napoleon. That man was divorced from his wife. I would not trust him." This rebuff subserved the purpose, by stopping the . . YOUNG AMERICA S VIEWS OF ART. 145 discussion, of concentrating all attention upon the painting. It was, ill truth, a wonderful representa- tion. The young bull stood supple, erect, in the left centre of the canvas, with other cattle, and a boor at his 'head, his feet planted in cool dock-leaves, and behind him, to the right, green Holland meadows, stretching away with kine speckling their freshness, and farm- houses rising from the hedges and willows. "What perfect imitation!" said Miss Kent. "The animals are photographed; the landscape is painted. He would have little to do who should give motion to this thing already so real and so vital." Applegate explained that the French had walked this young bull the entire distance to Paris, and that the allies had walked him all the way back to the Hague. Mrh. Oates was interested in this circumstance. "It showed even the great Napoleon," he said, "to have been a contractor in beef." He commended the young bull decidedly; he had once traded in live stock him- self, and proceeded to speak of the meritorious parts of the animal, as if he meant directly to crack his whip, and drive Paul Potter's master-piece out of the gallery. He kept a list of the pieces of'all-fine works- of art, and said that he might do something in that line one day. "All'these old fogy governments," said Mr. Oates, "will fall in time. We will carry their works of art across the pond, for safe-keeping. A good healthy revolution, whichl is not suckled on too much blood, , like the first begotten in France, will blow them down with its first breath. What may be the spirit of revo- lution I d(n't know, but its shadow is the contractor. 7 page: 146-147[View Page 146-147] When the whirlwind comes, I hope to be riding behind. Twenty thousand pounds, you say, is the Value of the Bull?" Some little trouble occurred during the afternoon, by a demonstration on the part of young Bolivar against the yolllung Masters Edel, and Joris, hastening to enforce the peace, received himself a slight bruise; but Mr. Oates plastered the place with a silver guilder, and, tying Bolivar up to the ceiling, let him hang there sev- eral minutes, in which interval Mrs. Oates stole in with an umbrella, and made pokes at him. It seemed to Applegate that Oates junior was in a fair way to become a great conqueror, and Oates senior would then have an opportunity to do the jobbing for the world. B6livar became known after a time to all the young people in the Hague, who ran before him as rom a rabid dog. It was difficult to imagine what texture his skill would assume when it had received a few more scars. One night they took him to Scheveningen, where he revenged himself upon his mother-by getting her into deep water, and ducking her energetically. Mtrs. Oates, being very fait, suffered exceedingly; but her proximity to people of- rank kept her calm. Mr. Oates, coming up to her rescue, dipped Bolivar to the bottom, till he begged pardon. There were many persons of distinction at the Hague, from whom Mrs. Oates received several indignities in her endeavors to make acquaintances: She was more successful in some few cases, and was once honored: with the presence of a Flemish Baron, at the Hotel de tiyWgens. He spoke suspiciously good 'English, but - ! YOUNG AMERICA'S VIEWS OF ART. 147 drank much champagne, and might have attended the party upon their whole tour, if Mrs. Oates had not missed a diamond brooch, which Bolivar had seen the Baron in the act of purloining. At last the Oates and Miss Kent announced their in- tention of departing. They spent the last evening at the Hague in the fine park, without the city, and while the music was throbbing and the lights of the cafe were darting flame upon the lake, and over the heads of the brilliant concourse, Applegate sat apart full of forebod-e ings; his sad, dependqnt life of garconwas to be re- sumed. God only knew where it might end! Miss Kent and Bolivar came to recall him; the former took his thin cheeks between her palms, and, bending his head back till she could look into his eyes, saw the finger-prints of care upon his forehead. "Applegate,' she said, impulsively, "you are think- : ing how lonely you shall be when we are all gone. Is it not so?" "You are almost right," he answered, with a forced smile. "You shall go with us," she cried. "Would it please you to be in the company of us all? Or," and she i softened her voice to a murmur, "would you like bet- ; ter to travel with one only,'- with me?"He did not hear the last part of the sentence; his heart had so bounded at the beginning that he was quite deaf to the rest. . It brought back to him those saddened but not extinguished aspirations which he had known of old, the love of travel,- that which a great poet has called the strongest passion, next to ambition. Besides, his . A pride was not so. keen as before. Poverty is a curb - t page: 148-149[View Page 148-149] "8 YOUNG AMERICA S VIEWS OF ART. upon high spirit, which tames Ait to dependence in the end. It is well when, with the bowed spirit, it does not abase the soul, the virtue, the man'! "I would go anywhere with you and Mr. Oates," answered Applegate, "if I could do you enough service to keep your kindness apart from charity." If his position had afforded him a view of Miss Kent's face, -half angry, half ashamed, he might have re-exam- ined her proffer and his reply. But she was standing behind him, and her warm palms kept him down till her features were at rest again, and then, without saying a word, she hastened to Mr. Oates. The latter happened at that moment to be alone, as Mrs. Oates was attempt- e ing to converse with a party of French ladies near at hand, who were as polite to her face as they would di- rectly he abusive at her back. They listened with bland gravity while she said unintelligible things, and overwhelmed her with compliments which she could not understand, during which time Miss Kent proposed seriously that Mr. Oates should employ Applegate as a courier, she guaranteeing to pay half his expenses. The contractor consented at once, but had some fear of 'his wife's opposition. Miss IKent, by shrewd diplo- macy, secured her ends in this direction also, and Boli- var gave Applegate intimation of her success. "I deem it necessary to say," exclaimed Mrs. Oates, y^ '("that with my courier I can have no familiarity. oThe association already has been too intimate. I am will- i ing to assist this young man* but I cannot recognize him'as my equal. Never, Mis Kent! While we live in these monarchical lands, we must be monarchists. Indeed, I have had some idea of a courier myself, -a YOUNG AMERICA'S ViEWS OF ART. 149 i person six feet high for example, with a powdered wig, and a suit of livery and large calves. That is the style, I believe, upon this continent. But, to be amiable, I will submit to the majority. This person will be cheaper than a man, we may reflect. He will not eat so much, alnd we can pay him what we like.' "I am glad to give him a lift," said Mr. Oates, heartily; " and I employ him without making a contract, which is a great deal." That night Applegate bade adieu to the Edeles, whose partings were gravely affectionate. The Her- bergier put two Napoleons into his hand, which he as- sured him were but his due, and Mr. Oates, adding one hundred francs for expenses, sent him ahead to secure chambers at Ant werp. It was with joy that Applegate recovered his trunk and clothing from the ancient pawnbroker. He addressed a letter to Gretchen, whom he still loved with the first tenderness grown stronger, and after three days of busy expedition about the city, and a week at Ghent and Bruges, the party stopped one evening in the old Flemish town of Mech- lin. :I page: 150-151[View Page 150-151] 150 CHAPTER XV1. IN MTECIL Ol-uloI OWER. APPLEGATE obtained r2ooms for his patrons in a hotel upon the Grand Plaoe, but took more modest 9quarters for himself in a boatmans in, on the river-side. The Eirestofhecmpany, being wearied with tr The . kept in theirqS "^ ^"*^ Tth travehine, : e tithei quarters, and he sallied out to see the churches and the town. There are many fine edifices in the Netherlands; buit was whim of te yioun *urier that thi's athed ^ '^ r h "' urier that this cathedrral of Mechn exceeded them all in grandeur. Its massive gray tower Went up so diz- grapple iv gra tower S A w zily that the head reeled to follow with the eyes its fight of buttresses. It Was like a chain ion of with its granite feet wide- lanted, looking de ance to od. It seeome d to grow higher as one measud it lifting the beholder, as by some sp e nolofess t * I of loftiness, till with his thoughts his body seemed ascending. As ie grapplesoepeiiefrl, 1 Se Precijpice firmly, and yet fear to peer down the abyss, lest we might f al, so Applee his feet falter as be gazed up, and lip, and up aOgain, as8 by some infinity of spaces too vast to be enclosed in a single gannce, acld he could have -wished to cling to the oltd earth with both his hands, lest it should sink beneath him, and eh go floatinfg like the stones on the far pinnacles to some niche above the swallows' nests. - IN MECHLIN CHURCH TOWER. 151 There were other objects to attract: the priests who entered and departed below; the poor old women and the school children climbing the steps of the transept; the many fantastic carvings above the windows and portals; ye't none of these could divert himfirom tphe grand tower. The eagles should have been its archi- tects, to tear its separate stones so far into the sky. While the great mariner was on the ocean, searching for a world, the Flemish masons were wearily heaping up this landmark. They did not hope to see it fin- ished; for those were the days when art was its own recompense, and generation after generation took up the work and helped it forward- as, in our own time, a few men put a stone to the world's liberties, though they may not see the perfect edifice. Applegate at- tempted to restore to the cathedral its dangerous scaf- folds and the masons who trod their gossamer floors. The sounds of trowel and adze rang out again, mingled i'th turbulent choruses. He heard the names of Charles the Bold, and his fair daughter, of Burgundy, blended with the deeds of the dauntless guildsmen who scattered the chivalry of France and England, and dic- tated terms to kings. Suddenly, a multitude of birds darted through the open windows, far up among the highest pinnacles, and a peal of beautiful music floated out on the evening air. It was the cathedral-carillon. It fell far and wide over the silent city, like wings of sound folded for the night upon a brood of tiny houses. It was at first a local peal, like the lark's, as she sings upon her perch; but, by and by, the air, which had only quivered like the feet of listeners who are eager S- . *' page: 152-153[View Page 152-153] 152 n In AEdn CHURCH TOWER. to dance, took up the music, and seemed itself to sing., The song went out in wavy undulations, as if a thou- sand tune-birds were flying everywhere. Now soft, now keen, now silvery, now profound, the hundred bells seized the measure in their turn, and, at last, the dim -old city grew intoxicate with music. The quaint Flemish gables seemed to rock, like the trees to the lute of Orpheus; the belfiy of the mossy alles was quite beside itself with merriment; the wooden shoes upon the uneven stones kept time to the notes of the -musicilan, and in the end, the whole round landscape, like a world, rose and fell to the irresistible cadences. What emotions -vere not expressed inl this grand opera love, mercy, devotion, energy, power. You can hear/the mother's lullaby mingled with battle-bugles a sweetheart's ballad is drowned by a deep requiinm; the farm-boy, tilling afield, glides into the loud chorus of the congregation praising God, and when the ca- rillon ceases, the earth still thrills, as if the very winds - had come from their four quarters to murmur at ftheir disappointment because too late. ' Applegate obtained the key to the tower-door from a ; -beer-shop near by, and a chatty old woman followed him up the dim stone stairs. Hle could not have found is way unguided, the flights were many, and discon- neeted; now and then, the route leading around the outside of the tower, gave him glimpses of the deep city, and at last he gained the belfiy where the carillon hung susene T ' carillon ung suspended. There were not less than a hundred bells, of all sizes, from the most minute co- chette to the huge beffroi or tocsin, arranged in h IN MECHLIN CHURCH TOWER. 153 parallel lines; and connected by wires with the keys of some invisible instrument. The old woman pointed out the closet where the musician was hidden; and, to 1 be rid of her garrulity, the lad gave her a few sous, and obtained permission to descend when he pleased. -New flights of steps carried him to the last stage of the tower, whence, climbing a high ladder, he gained the edge of the battlement, three hundred and forty-eight feet from the ground. Mechn lay beneath him, divided by the river Dyle, which meandered like a ribbon through -the meadows around the town, and at the horizon rose the faint spires of four great cities, Louvain, Brussels, Ghent, Antwerp. At this spot one should read the- history of the Netherlands, thought Applegate, with the whole coun- try beneath one for a chart; for upon this little circle of space all civilization was once concentrated, - art, architecture, learning, manufactures, commerce; it was their cradle as it became their gravel Out of this panorama filed those great crusaders who set up the cross in Jerusalem. A new religion started behind them. Its creed was equality and liberty; weavers and brewers were its apostles. It has proselytized half the world. Then came trade, without which there can be neither learning nor art, to turn into these Low Countries rivers of wealth. Soon rose new reformers, who tempered faith with freedom. They laid down their lives not in vain, if, leaving the old religion, they left more rights to man, But decadence ensued; labor hoisted its golden fleece and sailed away to England. Applegate saw the grass page: 154-155[View Page 154-155] rowg in Mechn streets ;a bugle rang out as he gazel, and a squadron of clumsy Belgian cavalry came filing into the town. These Were the pitiful descendants of the dauntless burghers and artisans who once defied the Em peror of Europe! The old town gave a deserted echo to their tramp; a few Flemish boors came out of the rare old gables to look on, and when the horses' hoofs sounded no longer, silence and gloom, like an habitual garment, fell upon the old ecclesiastical city. Here the bells below began to play, and the lad, anx- ious to see them in operation, descended to the tower. The huge stone walls threw back the sound, till every stone in the broad structure tingled, and Applegate im- agined himself upon the inside of one great bell. Re sponsive to the fingers of the invisible musician, each tongue was vocal in its turn. And so had this same carillon sung to Mechn for four centuries of day-and night, in peace and war, deserted and besieged, in her affluence and in her prostration. Whatever mutations marked the world arpund t, the high tower in the clouds theyclouds made music forever. "His must be a strange life," said Applegate, '" who lives so high and who sings so cheerily." The boy crept round towards the closet where the musician rested, intent to look within. The sound of the bells -smothered his footfalls; he knelt at the little door and put his eye to the orifice. That which he staw banished the blood from his face, and made him stagger as from a stinging blow. The man at the instrument, passing his hands so playfully over the chequered keys, was Holt, the robber, the fugitive !t For a moment Applegate's wrist knotted; he was im- J N LNj iti;JIJN KBHUAWN 'L'WlA K 10CHO pelled to rush upon the'door and burst it open, to meas- ure strength with the villain who had so cruelly plun- dered him, and to demand restitution. Then came a calmer moment; money was better than revenge; if Holt had still the means to repay what he hbad filched, it would be well to accept it, and to proceed no further. His own crime was a mooted one; he had no wit- nesses; his adversary was shrewd and daring. Nay might not this same guilty man -- meeting one whom he had wronged, in a place so lofty, at this lonely hour, -relieve himself by a second crime from all the conse- quences of the first? Applegate looked round him with a shudder. He was three hundred feet idi the air; he would be a child in the strong arms of his opponent; a single thrust ! down the sharp stone stairway would close all-accusa- tion. Applegate thought of all these things; a colde shudder came over him.- Whatever might be his right, this was no time to urge it. The carillon was already pealing its last stanza; yet he looked once again through the aperture that theje might be no mistake. It was Holt--none other; his hair and beard were flowing as of old; but his cheeks had lost somewhat of their ruddiness, and his garb was mean and worn; there seemed to be little chance of re- covering money from this manl, and, with feelings more composed, Applegate hastened to descend the tower and rejoin his friends at-the hotel. "You have a stranger to perform upon your carillon, I see," he said to the brewer as he returned the key. "Oh!" replied the other, "it is an Englishman, -- a sort of musical genius; he pleases our town for nothing, page: 156-157[View Page 156-157] - Ace vAI JTV JLWz. U aI and appears to like the amusement, for he spends all his time up there." "Where does he lodge?" asked Applegate. "With my nephew, the Sabotier. He dines at eight o'clock." After dinner Mrs. Oates went off with a polite priest, - who proposed to show her the town. His polfteness extended to three hundred and forty-eight feet of the ca- thedral tower, which was agony to Mrs. Oates, and he charged her a guilder to examine some celebrated relics, which only her aristocratic feelings ever induced her to pay. Then, with another brother, he drank three bot- tles of champagtne, but forgot to accompany her to the Bishop's palace, - an interview on which Mrs. Oates had set her heart. Mr. Oates, all this time, had been visiting the lace factories, but took care to say nothing to his wife, who might have carried off Il the best relerqud inl the city at forty dollars a yard. Applegate walked with Miss Kent along the Dyle, followed by Master Bolivar. One of the many fetes which occur in Catholic cities had just passed by, and * the principal street was lined with skeleton booths; pennons waved overhead, and the merchants, chiefly women, sat in their impressive costumes along the sidewalks . . - It was a bitter satire upon Mechn, -this paltry dis- play,-and the priests in their solemn vestments, shaven, and moving so slowly to mournifl music, made up what seemed the funeral procession of the city's ancient glory. The party stood upon a bridge and looked down the 9 v UIN MEJ'JLN UtinUJnU. lXUWJfilA 1 Dyle, flowing past mills now silent, by palaces desti- tute of lords, by grand churches never full of worship- pers, by piers forsaken of merchandise-save only heaps of Ostend mussels, and a few misshapen fisher- boats whose crews might have gone to sea in their own Ihuge sabots; an old woman was fishing from her win- dow with a broad dip-net; an old man had lifted the cover from a sewer, to the alarm of a hundred rats; a noisy party was drinking insipid beer in a wine-shop, and their guttural songs made the general stillness only the more apparent; the little life remaining but set in harder outline the much ruin which had long remained; the grass grew, - grew, -grew,-- till one might almost hear" it growing, so dimly fell the twilight, had not the carillon in the tower begun to sing again, which recalled Applegate to his claim upon Holt. He said nothing of the affair to Miss Kent, but went with Mr. Oates to the house sptified in the address. A tall person, badly clothed and gesturing excitedly, stood in the doorway talking to the Sabotier. "Have you an Englishman stopping here?" asked Applegate of the host. "We had until to-night," was the reply. "Here is another gentleman, come to ask the same question., Some of you must have frightened my lodger; for he has left us abruptly, and was seen to-night at the rail- way station going toward Brussels." , ? The evyes of Applegate, of Mr. Oates, and of the stranger, met simultaneously. He wore a tattered cloak, like a leopard's skin, and fury and sorrow had deeoplv lined his forehead. Ofj . , :iJ page: 158-159[View Page 158-159] 158 IN MELjMOTN UXlUBOH TOWER. 'Is he still crazy? I mean the sick pe on who came over with us," cried Mr. Oates. "It is Holt's great enemy," exclaimed Applegate. "I know you," said the man, uncovering his head, and passing his meagre hand across his furrowed brow. "You are the boy whom I found plundered at Antwerp. Happily lyou lost nothing but bread. Your youth, your honor, your life's life, were left you. These trifles should not embitter your feelings: it is for me-- whose wrongs Are deeper, I -dare say, than any but I can feel-to dfevote my manhood, my old age, to the consummation of - a just revenge. Its pursuit has made me poor. I have nothing left but this excuse for existence. Fireside, native land, respect, mercy, re- ligion, - they have all been fused by my great tribula- tion into one terrible passion. I beg my way, guided forever by its dictation. I shall got die until its intents are achieved. Let n& man with his lesser sufferings seek to divide this mission with me. This fugitive i whom -I seek -this man whom I - claim-can find no nook, no cleft, to hide himself from me. We must- we shall meet each other." His lean, bent figure dilated as he spoke. They saw that his shoes were worn, and that his spotted robe had grown tattered and faded. His beard was un- sightly; his nails were long; his eyes were red as fever. "Call you give me a few sous?" he said. "I have eaten nothing since morning, and must -talk 'all night on the way th Brussels; but I am not hungry." Mr. Oates gave him a five-franc piece. He turned if into the house, and they saw that he drank a glass of 159 IN MECHLIN OtutCH TOWER. strong liquor witd greedy lips, anc ere he went down the stree thanked them, and said "good-night ," with a rmanner so refined in its pitifulness that tho tears came to Applegate's lids. Mechllin tried to do." page: 160-161[View Page 160-161] 160 THE YOUNG COURIER IN BRUSSELS. CHAPTER XVL1. THE YOUNG COURIER IN BRUSSELS. IT was thought expedient that Applegate also should proceed to Brussels the same night, to obtain rooms for his patrons. It being dark, so that he could s ee nothing of the country, he confined his attention to a number of directories. Next to an Englishman, an English guide-book is the most individual thing with which one comes in con- 1 tact abroad. This is the only representative English book. To understand the true Briton's character, he must be asked to speak of his neighbors. There is nothing in space about which he has not an opinion There are with other people a few open questions. Many a good-natured Frenchman or German is indif- ferent to much in travelling; everything is of conse- quence to an "Islander." He should be represented attempting to look through -both ends of a telescope at once, with the small end turned upon foreign lands, and the large end upon his own. His guide-book is the result of this double view. "Whatever is, is wrong." Applegate looked to see if that-were not printed on the title-page of his English- Belgian hand-book. It demurred to the Brabant taste; it doubted their honesty, questioned the splendor of their THE YOUNG COURIER IN' BRUSSELS. 161 painttings, or derided their merit. It dealt a testy blow to the national religion, as if Baxter, or Laud, or some inflexible controversialist had gone into the guide-book business; but the chief and most inexcusable offence of the Belgians ,was their partiality for the French. This appeared to be looked upon as intentional disrespect to the English. It was treated as if at some future time it might become a cause of war. Applegate found him- self laughing outright when he had read a little way; the French flag is the red menace which sets our mod- ern-Bull stark wild. Charity is the soul of civilization: let us take heed how we boast of the one, and carry not the other in our bosoms. The world is beautiful. Happy and fortunate are the few who may walk in its remote places. Let us leave our smoked glass at home, where it is useful, and learn to whistle one or two noisy songs as we travel, that their gleefulness may drown our gall. An English guide-book never omits an incident mor- tifying to the French; it tells where they were beaten in battle, wherever they plundered some old church, or barn, or hen-coop, and it brings their virtues or abilities down to a very low relief. This unfairness is so obvious and constant, that most American voyageurs have come to sympathize with the abused party. Many of us have constitutional prefer- ences, also, for France; as republicans, we must admire that great nation of men, who, whatever their errors of temperament or philosophy, have thrice revolutionized the Old Worlld and once the New. We have no applause for the power, secure in its isolation, which contended .,A page: 162-163[View Page 162-163] ? 162, THE YOUNG COURIER IN BRUSSELS. -: twenty years to reseat an effete and tyrannical dynasty on the throne it had forfeited. And we are not disposed to undervalue the achieve ments of those irresistible armies. which have covered *[ the continent of Europe with glorious monuments, to demonstrate the impotence of combined kinrs against one nation imbued with the principle of equality and the spirit of freedom! Applegate had not yet the confidence of an old tour- ist. He hesitated to ask the way to the heart of the city, and thus very nearly walked around it, by follow- ingt the Bouvelrds. At last he took a street at right anglet to his former course, and suddenly found himself in the Grande Place of Brussels. It was as if one had been suddenly set back many centuries, and dropped into some grand old Brabant nook. There was nothing of contemporary time in either the edifices or the peo- ple surrounding him; huge gables glowered upon him through grotesque pediments, whose carved devices were grouped profusely. The dim old Bruidhuis lay behind, hid in deep shadow, like its bloody associations; the open space beneath these toppling buildings was filled with people in quaint garbs, who spoke in un- known tongues, and the Hotel de Ville, the grandest of all those bulwarks of municipal liberty, the rarest civic edifice extant, lifted above its marvellous facade a straight, sharp spire, into the beautiful moonlight. /There. .had been no coup d'aeil in Europe to thrill Ap- ql egate like-this. It rushed upon him like a new reve- latios; it crowned all his wishes of age, tradition, art, history; as he stood in the midst of these old mediamvl - monuments, he wondered if the triumphs of-science 1THE YOUNG COURIER IN BRUSSELS. 163 - measured with these products of muscular forced The juggrler and the boxer are only men who think in tricks and blows; as philosophers are men who fight and cheat in thoughts. Both are apostles; how far advanced are the architects of electricity, of heat and of light, be- yond the power which raised such Flemish temples? They might wonder at our work; we almost worship theirs. Applegate found, in one of the small circuitous streets which adjoined the Hotel de Ville, a delightful little hostelry, called the Limburgefois Coq. An old Flam- mand woman kept it, who cooked him a famous beef- steak, and he strolled off afterwards to bespeak quarters for his clients. I T^This took him to the Place Royale, and when his er- ij] rand was done, he stood at the base of the fine statue of Godfrey of Bouillon. A hand was laid quietly on his shoulder, and he found himself face to face with the blonde, broad-shouldered, attache of legation. "I have found you, Master Applegate," said the lat- ter; " you do not know that I have been so far back as the Hague to say good-by to you. But here is a let- ter which I found at- Mynheer Edel's. Come into the park and read it." Applegate recognized Gretchen's handwriting; he shook hands heartily with his former patron, and they Sat together in Brussels Park, where the great Flemish Emperor made voluntary abdication and whence a sub- sequent soldier marched to vanquish a greater than Charles V. "You have really been to the Hague to say good-by page: 164-165[View Page 164-165] 164 THE YOUNG COURIER IN BRUSSELS. to me,'" said Applegate; "then you were not pained at my ingratitude when last we parted?" "Pained, yes; but not offended. I befriended you, Applegate, and it chafed me to think that the better you knew me the less became your sympathy for me., But there is something in you which wins me. You remind me sometimes of a very dear friend in Amer- i ica, whither I Iam going. I slil to-morrow." Applegate explained his new relation with the Oateses, and endeavored to be pleasanter with his friend. "You were too high for me," he said, apologetically. "Without your help I should have despaired; hut not even charity can make sympathy. You were just, andl I gave you credit for it; but not until now have I felt you to be my friend. To show yout that I do not speak plausibly, but speak truly, I will open to you a confi- dence which none have ever shared. It is a boy's passion; this is a letter from my sweetheart. May I read it to you? -Do so," said the attache; "we will be. boys to- gether. I have been in love also." "Dear friend," said the letter,- which Applegate read in a voice so girlish that the writer might have been imagined repeating it timorously to herself,- "the story of your sorrows. and your relief has been read by me many times. I told it to my uncle, from whom I would have no secrets, and the burden thus divided has fallen less harshy upon me. "You kept me waitincg very long; for your troubles are by right mine also, who have promised to divide THE YOUNG COURIER IN BRUSSELS 165 them; yet since it may give you comfort, know. that day and night you were in my thoughts, mty pr ayers- though less faith than mine might have suggested that you:had forgotteli me. I was not disheartened; I am encouraged. The fullest heroism that woman may exhibit is patience; if ever a sad feeling carne to me, it was that your more exalted employment might some time make you despise the lowliness of mine. All that self which is a part of the purest love saPI to me, when I knew you vere working in my own sphere: 'He is not greater than I am now; we are equals in toil and poverty.' That was for a moment only, dear friend I am willing to be far humbler than you -for I know how such adversity must ring your sanguine heart. To me you can never be abased till you stand so convicted by your own conscience, not by your pride. Look up! those who are meant for great issues are ^tested by many mutations. FeelthatI shall alwys be true to the word I gave you; and let us both look for- ward to the pleasant days that aust be left us, when "-we have proved ourselves worthy of them. [ "Yours, at Bingen, , .-1 "MARGARETHA." The attache had listened calmly. There was a glow upon his face when Applegate ceased, as if he, too, : X had caught his confidant's enthusiasm. "An attachment like that, Master Applegate," he ; 1 said, "could never be rash or unworthy. No! not I. A, if you were a Prince. Had we never one feeling in common before, the sharing of that letter should make 7il us friends; it is like the captive whom the fairy told to page: 166-167[View Page 166-167] look into the well, that he might see the face of the guard who should be his deliverer; we have looked to- gether into a pure woman's heart." To further cement this friendship Applegate begged the ttacteo go said th him to dinner. "I am poor," he said, anlode upret entiou sly; but there can be no trust where there is hypocrisy; The old lady at the Limburefoi s Co gave hem a repetition of a royal steak, and they drank a cannetto of Munich beer together. I "Applegdatei said ,the atta h I 'we nt to the e tIS chance, you come again to hant." to take you home with me. But your fortunes have changed somewhatsne lnt ralittleti and I though s e xh I will not urge you to return least hsome dayarered quietly:- give you the opportunity again, aoug h yo u myb come poor as when I kniew you first; on the conra Europe will always be available, and your means vn: iever be. less than no. It may be that this moment is the decisive one of your life. You'have heard : something of the, Old World, - at least e n ouh to know New; that even adventurersmiust eat; that enthusiasm may grow weary and galed of feet;awrl i longer succors the errant, be they knights, or priests, or pedestrians. Decide, myyoung vriend' It will :! grieve me and-fill you wivth self-reproaches if, refusing this-chance, you come again to want.: Applegate sat, nervously silent, for a little time and his - working face- exhibited the contention of his At last he answerea quietly: "I know how precarious is my daily life; I feel the J doubtfulness of the future. All reason tells me to go; -J all feeling bids me stay. I have been chastened, but have not died, and I think I would rather suffer in Europe than labor in America--at least while this unquiet enthusiasm lasts." They talked a long time of other matters, and then strolled through the old part of the town, among the hotels of the Brabanlt noblesse. "How dimly grand are these old piles!" said Apple-, gate; they seem to have retained the dark stateli- ness of their feudal era. Do not the modern structures around them partake somewhat of the flimsiness of our own?" . "Despotism has always more romance than free- i dom," replied the other. 'These deep arches and massive entablatures have their influence upon Mne, as would the mailed figure of their former possessor himself, were I to see him riding by beneath his sable . plumes. But beyond physical sympathy I have no love for ally past. That was the age of chaos; ours is the age of revolution. I turn with relief from that . time of caste and splendor to the simplicity of Western civilization. An army of blouses pleases me better ; : than all the pageants of Palestine. I see with a thrill the rising of the faubourgs when the tournament in the palace-yard fails to divert me.- We raise no piles Oaf stone likethese to-day; but grander structures of right X - built upon the wrecks of privilege. We lose the mys- . tery, but we have gained the liberty; our vassals have . - become our equals, and every home is a castle." - They parted at the attache's hotel with frank good :!H page: 168-169[View Page 168-169] *"* --V J AJUo* i wishes, and Applegate returned to his humble inn. But as he lay that night in a great chamber where five other persons slept in separate beds, he was tempted twice or thrice to rise and seek his benefactor, and accept the offer to return to America. The morning came; the attache was gone; but s Applegate pondered with uneasy forebodings over the , other's verdict. Had he indeed passed the decisive I moment of his life? The Oateses were put down at thefirst hotel upon the Place Royal. Mrs. Oates travelled like a parvenue duchess, -with many trunks marked singly with her initials. Lest Mr. Oates might give publicity to his i plebeianism, she had his name carefully obliterated i from his valise,--a matter which troubled him exceed- - ingy; for he was as proud of his reputation as his lady : was ashamed of it. But the contractor made little objection; he was amiable, and had withal an exalted - opinion of his spouse. Yet she treated him with marked disrespect, which he lacked sensitiveness to note. i "Let the old lady buy stock where she pleases," he said. "It amuses her, and I can afford it. If she can make exquisites of Bolivar and me, she is an extraordi- nary woman." Bolivar had no reverence. The republican bump of destructiveness might have been said to comprise his tvhole head. He threw stones at the public statues, I mimicked the priests, and engaged in divers quarrels with the juvenile nobilities who filled the hotel. If the little earls would not play with him, he boxed their ears. A young English viscount venturedto take I e'1 THE YOUNG COURIER IN BRUSSELI. 169 up his challenge for a general "bout"' beyond the Boulevards. Bolivar was presumed to have lost the I battle; though, by 'his own version, the viscount Ikicked, and refused to take up a second gauntlet. They all went one morning to the church of St. Gu- dule, and stood beneath the stained glass of the choir. The bright sunlight, falling upon the devices of crowned ! kings and pontiffs richly robed, seemed to purify re- I ligion by such holy contact, and threw its gold, as an alms, upon the transept floors. The dim interior was like some ocean cavern, down whose aisles and recesses ,floats the mellow water, reflecting the- jewels which sparkle in its groinings, and lighted through the rare mosaics, as by some faintly transparent roof of Sera- vezza stone. I The lofty cathedral columns were pencilled with i color; the sculptured saints at the abutments caught the bright hues upon their draperies and on their marble foreheads; the rich dyes shone on the keystones in the gothic ceilings, and on the frail white altar the ; stained day shimmered like the pulses of the rainbow., I Standing thus, bathed in sensuousness, not dazzled, ;. but awed, and feeling as if for the first time the full enjoyment of sight had been revealed to him, Apple- gate drew apart, and whispered to himself, "If God is Light, are not those who make him most beautiful to us his truest apostles? ,1 There is a pulpit in this church which one might call an epic poem, written in wood. It is the master-piece of Verbruggen, and tells the Mosaic story of man's fall and'redemption, so that the priest may stand in the garden of Eden every Sunday and preach pictorially. 8$ - . t E page: 170-171[View Page 170-171] 170 THE YOXUNG COURIER IN BRUSSELS. Wood is not more perishable than stone, if genius shape it. There are many such pulpits in the Low Countries, and, if they are not always more excellent, they are more curious than the best marbles of Italy. J " 1 THE FLUNIEXS OF WAqTRT OO. 171 i CHAPTER XVIIi. A 'THE FLUNKEYS OF WATERLOO. WHEN Mrs. -Oates decided to-visit the field of Water- loo, her aristocratic tendencies further exhibited them- selves. She would neither take a seat in the English coach, nor accompanyMr. Oates in a carriage. She resolved to have her own turn-out and the society of the Honorable Mr. Scond, brother of Lord Scond and late of Scond Hall, Snobshire, but at present a refugee from his creditors in a back attic at Brussels. An ample hamper of sandwiches and champagne was put up by Appleate for Mrs. Oates, whose appetite was enormous, analshe had the failing of drinking too much, and of showing it. Her team, with its driver in semi-livery, dashed out of the hotel gate and along the Waterloo road, amidst winking and facetious gestures from all the servants and lacqueys, while Applegate and Mr. Oates, with Bolivar, climbed to the top of the Eng- lish stage-coach, which was already crowded with that imotley array of middle-class English people who are at once the annoyance, the amusement, and the sustenuanc of the continent. These make Waterloo their national Jerusalem. It is the scene of their most signal vic- tory,-and the site of the downfall of the most glorious soldier of the continent. To behold provincialism, or page: 172-173[View Page 172-173] t72 T-E FLNKBYS OF WATERLOO. ? rather insulism, in, its worst behavior, with all its na- tional uncharity unchecked, let one only ride to Water- loo with a stage-load of English people. Amongst the people on the Brussels coach this day was a self-important, little, erect old man, with a slim, aquiline nose, who had evidently spent the better part of } \ his life in studying up this battle-field. Near him were two large-limbed 'ed-faced, cold-mannered English young women, who had not scrupled to make the perilous ascent of the coachman's ladder, and Miss Kent, who sat next them, had been as venturesome as they. Close by was a boy, or rather half-grown man, with im- \mensely long feet, encased in such heavy shoes that Bolivar at once indicated him as "Triangle." The others were of a like character, suspicious, selfish, silent folks, each wondering who his neighbor might be. As is the custom, the 'gamins and vagrant boys of Brussels trundled and tumbled and clamored after the stage-coach. "Imposition upon imposition!" exclaimed the bright- eyed, brawny young lady in front of Applegate; "these wretched beggars expect to be paid." "There is no honesty out of 'old England," replied a courageous youth, whom Applegate distinguished chiefly by his feet. The young lady who had fiest spoken turned towards the courageous youth, and not being satisfied of his respectability, looked at him like an icicle. The air grew cold. But for the vagabonds who turned sommersaults below, and held up-their hats in THE FLUNKEYS OF WATERLOO. \ 173 the pauses for a reward, the vehicle would have been iB dismal as a prison van. NB1; i - '"There goes the French diligence," said Mr. Oates, when he had given all his coppers to Bolivar for the benefit of the acrobats. "I wish I were in it." (Here Mr. Oates was regarded with aversion by everybody.) B"But why doint our escort beg from our French friends also?" '"Our French friends are all beggars," said Triangle; "they give their soldiers three ha'pence a day. They never ate a good piece of beef or mutton since William J; the Conqueror left them." :: "Right, young person!" said the little, erect old/ man, "I shall put all these impositions down in Murray," said Trianlgle. 'I am a correspondent of Murray. ] I've got six-and-twenty swindling French tavern-keep- ,: jj ers down already. One of them saidl in undertone, so J I could 'ear him distinctly: 'Got ciem Villinton and hissacra Anglish.' He's dozwn!" ' I One of the young ladies raised up here and said, "There are some beggars clinging behind. . They ought . to be cut down." "Cut them down, driver!" said Triangle. The English driver slashed away cheerfully, and theyall looked back to enjoy the sight of a small boy, 1J a writhing in the road, with a red whip-mark across his face. :j The old gentleman so after see ed to see some- thing, and, pointing in an automatc way at a field near by, said:- : "The Juke had that road guarded." page: 174-175[View Page 174-175] 174- -ATHE FLUNKEYS OF WATERLOO. "Which Juke, if you please?" asked Mr. Oates, observing a small lane to the right. "Our Juke!" replied the old gentleman. "What Englishman is not familiar with his name? I mean the Juke of Wellington." "We don't get the run of all your big folks where I live," said Mr. Oates, slyly, "you have so many of 'em., I saw the tomb of an old-man of that name in St. Paul's Cathedral, but concluded, from a locomotive engine standing by, that he had been an engineer." The old gentleman foamed at the mouth; and all the passengers stood up to look at Mr. Oates, who played with his Atlantic cable seal, and glanced at the flax harvesters, andesked Applegate what land thereabout might be worth by the acre. "You must be an American.,' I beg pardon," said tile old gentleman; " of course you haven't the advantages of hearing much then. Did you ever hear of Napo- leon Bonaparte, pray?" He gave the others a sly nod, and thef all listened. "Rather!" said Mr. Oates, "there's not a savage in Oregon, who hasn't heard of that -man." "But the man who vanquished him,; -the Juke I Do you know nothing of Wellington?" "It occurs to me now, that I have heard the name. But there were as many generals in pursuit of Bolna- parte atthe old hero had soldiers. They weren't of much account." "The Juke of Wellington was the greatest soldier of modern or ancient times," cried the other; " he beat the French in Spain; he annihilated the army of their vaunted champion near this spot.; he occupied Paris, THE FLUNKEYS OF WATERLOO. 175 t 1which he ought to have burnt; if he had led an army j of Britons years before, France would never have met j I \ him at Waterloo." {[!,1}"AYou are prejudiced," said Mr. Oates, with irritating good-humor; " the-English fought best with gold pieces during the French revolution. They paid other people to be slauTghtered for their ideas." "Oh! come now!' cried Triangle; "do you mean )i, to say that you Yank - Americans, were ever the fight- ing people that we are? )i, Youngl Bolivar was here so irritated that he wished to :'!"- ^challenge Triangle, but stipulated that he mustn't kick --with those feet , They subdued Bolivar; and for some little time the I discussion ceased, though the old gentleman levelled an undertone of satire against Mr. Oates, which the con- H'- tractor was too impelrturbable to remark. He watched the rolling plains of grain and flax, stretching far off, :i lunbroken by roof, or wall, or spire, where stalwart men i i in blouses, and women in turbans, followed the march !. g of reapers. , The road was paved with hewn stones, and Hi ran straight as an arrow between files of trees,-the only . shade, save that of the moving clouds, to -darken the whole undulating landscape. "Are you also an American?" said the old gentle- ;' man to Applegate. "Why have you, who speak our lan- guage, and claim to be. of ourselves, such sympathy -for i our enemies? Do you, indeed, believe that we ought i i not to have crushed Bonaparte?" Applegate replied, " that we could conceive Bona- parte to be a tyrant at home, and so ambitious as to be page: 176-177[View Page 176-177] 176 THE FLUNKIlYS OF WATERLOO. dangerous abroad, and yet not entirely agree with those who pursued him to his downfall." "I am an American also," said Miss Hent, straighl- forwardly, t and may perhaps give you a representative answer." The EnBllish ladies opened their eyes, and inspected Miss Kent as if her sanity was questionable. But Miss Kent was strong-minded, and could not be intimidated. "Our civilization spartakes of the nature of yours," she said; "in temperament, forms, and morals, Nwe re- semble you; if all Englishmen were represented in your- government, we would differ still less widely; but at present we hlave no political feelings in common. When France enfranchised herself we were glad, like a few republican spirits in England; but all your rank, influence, and much of your learning were avowed against your neighbor. You would not consent that Frenchmen- should rule themselves. You struggled covertly and openly for twenty years to force a tyrant upon your rival; out of the desperate struggle engen- dered by your opposition, Bonualrte arose. You and your allies are responsible for the Empire,-not France. To the expatriated courtiers of the Bourbons you gave gold, with which they conspired against their country. In this way you turned the philanthropic current of the revolution into a river of blood; you set up the guillo- tine I You exclaimed against disorders 6f which you were the authors, and, when the Republic was crushed by its greatest genius, you continued war with the Em- pire. You feared the Republic, but you hated France. Reasoning thus, we regret not that Bonaparte fell, but thait England slew him." THE FLUNKEYS OF WATERLOO. 1" When Miss Kent ceased, there was manifest sensa- tion. The young ladies had not understood a. word of * her saying; the young men would have whispered that 1;! she was a blue-stocking, and laughed, were they not so I jenraged. The old gentleman, between his wonder and / -, his anger, sat grimacing awhile, and then said that Miss -} X Kent had been reading some eccentric American history. "I read your own Allison," she replied, -- a book I less worthy of the name of history than any of equal i pretension iin our language. He was a partisan, -an J@i English partisan, - and attached to that party which has all the venom of the last century, with none of the jli spirit of this. Yet even from his pages, a foreigner, divested of British enthusiasm, may form some quiet opinions." The old gentleman uttered, "Ah!" with mock cour- tesy, and went on to speak of the "Juke " with his countrywomen. The conversation would have delighted Mrs. Oates. There was. frequent mention of his Majesty, and officers of rank were alone referred to with that swellkng enun- ciation, compared with which our American periods obtain the name of nasal. The account was about as clear as most of our own current battle reports; authorities were revived; Mr. Thiers was called a "vfalsifier, and Mr. Hugo a liar. The diplomacy of the titme was introduced, for no other purpose, apparently, than to mention thl names of Pitt and Burke; and by some comprehensiveness of illustration, Lord Nelson was brought from Trafalgar to instance British prowess at Waterloo. - "You call us Americans boasters," said Applegate, page: 178-179[View Page 178-179] 178' THE FLUNKEYS OF WATERLOO. good-naturedly. "Are you not also fond of recounting your glories?" '"It is impossible for a Briton to boast," answered the old gentleman. "He cannot exaggerate the deeds of his countrymen. " They soon came to Waterloo, a struggling village of the French character, and the driver reined up opposite the church, into which those entered who cared to pay a franc to regard the epitaph of the more fortunate of the slain. Wellincton's bust stood at the portal. They call him, properly, the iron duke; he never changed an opinion; he was firm in the battle-field, fighting for English prestige; and firmer at home, combating the thousands who carried the name and burden of Englishmen, but not their privileges. Mon- uments to the soldier are common; we need one to the citizen who faced the populace at Apsley House, and vindicated his order with the true Venetian calmness when thev clamored for the ballot-box! There .is something very worldly in an English epitaph. What people besides would write over one's grave that he was once an heir, or that she was an heir- ess? On no slab around Waterloo church was any title written. Theyr covered one's valor with decorations; they made homage to the name, not to the man. He was -said to have served his King, then his country! These forms of expression doubtless affect those accus- tomed to them; a stranger from the New World reads them with wonder. Here in Waterloo church the walls were chequered with inscriptions. The doors were open, and the breath of the summer stole in; they could see the grass over the threshold, in the THE FLUNKEYS OF WATERLOO. 179 narrow side spaces, and a Madonna, freshy painted, looked down from the altar. They have, in the Catholic faith, miraculous portraits, which at certain melting times drop blood. When these floors were covered with the wounded, the ghastly surgeons going to and fro, and strong men, howling for light and air and water, felt their souls slip away, had the Madonna of Waterloo no stains upon her white drapery? As they returned to the street, multitudes of guides, venders of canes and relics, and insolent mendicants pressed about the party. They rolled. down the long street, calling echoes from the low tenements, and, passing Mt. St. Jean, kept on the road to Nivelles till they reached the battle-field. A tall, gray-haired individual came out of a cottage, and intimated that they should form in order at the roadside. "Who are you, beg pardon? exclaimed Triangle. "Beware of imposition!" muttered one of the ladies. "I am the guide," replied the individual, "who 'as 'ad charge of 'er Majesty's subjects upon this battle- field for thirty years. The nobility and gentry 'ave patronized me. I haccompanied the Juke himself on the occasion of his latest wisit. 'E rode a brown 'oss, as was galled on the left hind forelock, and who give me this gold piece, gentlemen, which I show you in my 'and!" All were satisfied but the old gentleman, who hung a pair of spectacles upon a Wellington nose, and looked at the guide as at a doubtful character. "I assert nothing," he said. "You may be a com- petent person; but what qualifications, beg pardon, page: 180-181[View Page 180-181] "180 THE FLUNjYUt:rS OF WATERLOO. have you to illustrate the important eventh which hap pened near this place? So many false interpretations are afloat, the truth of history in this matter has been so scandalously misstated, that I cannot allow these young persons to take back to Britain any errors which designing or ignorant authorities may circulate. Go on, sir! but I shall watch you! I shall watch you!" "I fought at Waterloo," answered the guide, in turn putting up his glasses and reconnoitring the old gen- tleman. "I served 'is Majesty in the ninth 'Uzzars. I take care to show the field correctly, as well as to allow no interruptions from any who hobtrude them!" "Lead on!" answered the old gentleman; "I say that I shall watch you! 9 The others, not fully decided which of the rivals to trust, walked behind them,; equidistant from either. They advanced a-little way, till, standing upon a ridge at the line of a depression or ravine in the meadows, the guide pointed to a second ridge, a sling's throw further oi. "You see from this spot, ladies and gentlemen, the position of the two armies. The ravine at your feet describes an arc across both the great Southern routes to Brussels; the British army stretched along the ridge we occupy; -the French were drawn up on the ridge opposite. They formed in line of battle on the morn- ing of June 18th, and Prince Jerome fired the first cannon from the wheat-field before you." "Stop!" cried the old gentleman. "Where were the 99th Fusileers at that time? I must know the position of Captain Gap's howitzer battery before I can agree with you." TIlE FLUNKEE S OF WATERLOO, 18 "They stood on the Juke's left centre, behind the calf which yot. see grazing on the flank of the turnip- field, to our northerd," replied the guide, triumphantly. "Then the 71st Guards were in danger of annihila- tion," said the old gentleman, sturdily. "Would the Juke put the, British foot at such disadvantage? His 2I history forbids it!" "To proceed," exclaimed the guide, snappishy. i On the brink of this ravine there are two farm-houses; the nearest, whose ruins you see shining close by through the orchard, was called Hougoumont; the farther, La Haye Sainte. They were the keys to the British position, and around and between them the whole battle raged." "You omit the desperate skirhmishing on the flank," said the old gentleman, promptly; t you must concede lIMudhopper's Scotch Dragoons charged handsomely. Ijj It is said the mounted carbineers, fired so rapidly that their pieces were inflamed in their hands. The testi- mony of' Major Hoax was, that a sergeant of the Life i Guards ran upon the enemy at such speed, that, when his horse suddenly stumbled, he was pitched forty feet 'Jj through the air into a French battalion, and through the gap so created the whole regiment rushed. That was British intrepidity!" "Allow me to say," interrupted the sergeant, "that the story is somewhat inaccurate. The sergeant had been an old pugilist. Accustomed to shy his hat into the ring, he so far forgot the occasion as to cast his helmet into the enemy's lines. It wounded a French marshal in an eye, whereby he could only see in one page: 182-183[View Page 182-183] 182 THE FLUNKEYS OF WATERLOO. direction; all the Life Guards did likewise, each disa- bling a-left eye, and we charged on their blind side." They all noted this in their diaries and then the \ guide led the way towavrd Hugoumonlt; a lane in the ravine led to a high brick wall, in which was a broken gateway, blackened by fire. Within a charred barn and outhouses enclosed two broken towers; these marlked the site of an old Flemish chateau, -a remnant of which had been transformed to a cottage, and was bordered by an orchard and a garden. "This," said the guide, " was the 'ottest place, gen- tlemen and ladies, in the 'ole action; though the Cold- stream Guards defended it." They all laughed here, but the old gentleman, who said it was trifling with history. "One-fifth of the Emperor's army was directed against this 'ere farm-'us. They fought for it very near the 'ole day;. they penetrated to the walls, and fell dead byo 'undreds under the gables; they climbed into the garding; they tried desperate to take it; but it was 'eld by men, gentlemen and ladies, who vere, at least, their equals in valor! ) There was much disapprobation here, and Triangle said, "Come now! you mustn't call Bonaparte, Em- peror.' "Quite right! young man," echoed the old gentle- man; " that was the order of his Majesty, when he was conveyed to Saint Helena. Address the captive, he said, as General Bonaparte." "'I merely said Hemperor," exclaimed the guide, looking toward Mr. Oates, "because strangers may be of the party who 'old to the French. Britons, gentle- THE "FL]UNEYS OF WATERLOO. 183 men and ladies, are never windictive to a foring and - falling foe. And I trust that I am not less a faithful servant of 'er Majesty, if, I repeat, the Emperor's army!' Applegate looked at the scene with much interest. It was a strolng place; and might easily have been de- fended; the wills enclosed it on every side; here the wounded crawled, to lie in the old barns, while shot and shell came crushing through, and heaps of masonry fell like clods to bury the shrieking wretches. The grass grew in the place; a child in wooden shoes tot- tered from the cottage-gate to frighten some striped and speckled fowl, and a dog lay asleep in sunshine as if his master's corpse were in the ground beneath. There was a cool chapel, close by, where the ancient proprietors had dolulbtless often repaired to ask Christ's intercession for rains, and winds, and harvests; and obedient children, and happy old age. It looked like one of our American dairies or spring-houses, and a wooden cross rose above it. WTithin, the names of a thousand clowns disfigured-the mwalls and ceiling, and a broken Jesus; nailecld to his agonLy, looked* down upon the floors of stone. "The Catholics 'avre a story," said the guide, "that the flames in the battle raged all around this 'ere chapel, but never entered because of this 'oly crucifix; none of the wounded as lay 'ere was burnt." Triangle and the rest grinned at this, but Applegate thought the incident very beautiful. ' I am sure the wounded must have felt that they were in some sort protected," he said " oue lying here with shot and smoke, and shrieks everywhere without, page: 184-185[View Page 184-185] 184 .- THE FLUNKEYS OF WATERLOO. and Christ's image within, and he saved beneath it,- must have been stolid indeed, had he known no prayer- fulness." They went into the cottage, paying at the door for the privilege, and saw numbers of old bayonets, gun- stocks, sabre-handles, and rusty buttons, exposed for sale. All the English visitors elbowed toward a book to register their names, and they drank beer amid the ruins of Hugoumont. Then they repaired to the orchard' and garden, which, like all enclosures in old countries, where wood is scarce and dear, were sur- rounded by high brick walls. These had been loop- holed by the British, who rested securely behind them, and poured all day a rain of bullets into the uncovered ranks of the French. The latter struggled to scale them, and, creeping to their bases, tugged at the pro- truding musket-barrels, while their ranks, farther off, mistaking the wall amidst the smoke for Mes of red uniforms, threw volleys vainly against it. Thus had some plain gentleman, planting an orchard years before, been the great engineer of Europe. Against his household defences, the cannons of Austerlitz and Marengo thundered in vain. The soldiery which had passed the Alps victorious, and retreated undaunted through Russian snows, was hurled back from his homestead. France halted at his threshold, and all of energy, glory, genius, power, that we express in the one word, Napoleon, confessed at Hugoumont that the -only barrier which they could not pass was the house of a peaceful citizen. .,. Applegate wearied of the guide and his listeners. Mr. Oates paid the-old fellow a franc for each of THE FLUNKEYS OF WATERLOO. 185 their party, and selecting a sprightly Belgian lad named Pearson, from a host of trophy-venders, they followed him to the mound in the midst of the battle-field. The Belgic lion, a tame animal, with one of his paws lifted, surmounted a great grassy heap- of clay. He was of cast iron, and supported an observatory upon his hinder parts. As in all menageries, they each one paid the Belgian government half a franc to see the lion, and had a fine silent view of the broad plain of Waterloo. It has been well said, that nature meant the place for some great contest. The long plains rolled to the horizon, with only here and there a tree to break the ripe grain-fields and the pastures of grass. Hard highways traversed it, and the tops of some far-off villages made the view seem more vast and bare. At the verge, to the left, a point of forest was visible. Every moving beast and wain in the whole landscape could be distinguished, and when the wind blew swathes in the clover and the rye, one felt that nature had made these plains rich, as well as wide and beauti- ful. No wilderness warfare was to be waged here; nature had no thicket, nor morass, nor swift river to join her own warfare with man's. This was the arena for artists in strife. Civilization was to try its lrilled soldiers here, --each combatant a thinking being, each commander a Titan. It was a grand Champ de Mars for terribly real manceuvres, and Europe was to pass in bloody review. As Applegate thought of these things, the spot im- mediately beneath had all the fascination of tragedy. He saw again, in fancy, the night before the battle. ! page: 186-187[View Page 186-187] 186- -THE FLUNKEYS OF WATERLOO. The grand conqueror had burst from his island ling- dom, and waved his tor6h, and France was marching on. He had driven his foes before him at Ligny and Quatre Bras; he had lain down to sleep with Brussels in his dreams, for he only fought for capitals; the skies grew pale as the night, like a curtain ascended, and he saw before him the old and welcome spectacle: an enemy in line of battle. There were his battalions, along the gentle elevation which looked so close that a stone might be tossed beyond it. Upon its margin lay bat- teries of raking cannon, with dark masses of horse flitting to and fro, behind and on either flank, and at the horizon the white covers of teams bringing up the material of life and death for seventy thousandd men. Here and there go solitary riders at dashing pace, and the sound of a drum, or a bugle, now and then, signals some slow manceuvre; but all the interest lies in the pleasant white farm-house, straight before, shut in by stacks and smaller tenements; the soul of all those armed men sits there at La Belle Alliance, he of the small stature, broad, immobile face, bright eye, and assured, but sober expression; he gives the word at last, and as if one nerve of that grand army had obeyed its single will, a cannon goes booming on the morning. They might be echoes --those other peals along the margin; but smoke has no echo: and see! the long black columns are swaying to and fro. A mist blows upon them, as if that shock of musketry had torn the clouds apart, -and shaken them down; they are- coming on: how terribly deliberate is- their pace! They descend into the dip of the meadow; the cannon send shrill announcement above their heads; the THE FLUNKELrS OF WATERLOO. 187 bayonets glitter as the first sunlight flashes along them, and Napoleon, from his place in the grain-field, watches them receding with a stolid satisfaction. There are but two farm-houses on the opposite slope; let these be carried, and Brussels is won. That all the energy of war may marshal to his aid at once, artillery is turned upon La Haye Sainte and Hugoumont, and cavalry go sweeping into the half mile of space between. But no single dash can move the resolute men who lie in their strong positions. and give back volley fobr volley, peal for peal. The charge becomes a succession of charges; it is an all-day fight, with the sky half blotted out and fire and iron ploughing the earth; the mid-day comes, and France is still contending; the moments are counted by the regu- larity of the thunder; no artifice, nor valor, nor power an pass the two quiet dwellings; English and Bruns- jwickers, pressed but yet unbroken, plant their feet as upon their fathers' graves; there are gaps in their ranks, and now and then a swaying forward or backward, but as the hours of afternoon go on, the sallies of :France are more furious; horse and foot fling them- selves angrily upon the solid squares resisting; La Haye Sainte has yielded; the French lie beneath the very walls of Hugoumont, and in .the garden, and among the splintered trees of the orchard; ere twilight, victory will crown the Emperor's grimy eagles. Alas! fortune has been tardy; the Prussians emerge from-the forest of Frischemont, and there are no impe- rial reserves - none but the Old Guard! Their stub- born master marshals them in person; he sends his last hope with them and gives the signal; down they go page: 188-189[View Page 188-189] 188 THE FLUIKEhYS OF WATERLOO. with' their old enthusiasm into the bottom and up the slope; for an instant a horrible din rises in the midst of the field, which all the wounded rise wearily to hear, and the lulled flanks listen in awe; the Old Guard comes back, scattered and dishonored; the fresh Ger- mans are pouring in from the west; the French army falls back in disorder, and Napoleon is a common fugi- tive, flying in the night. How must his high spirit have kept counsel in the silence after Waterloo? Some battle with perpetual doubt; but this man was unac- quainted with defeat. A simple lieutenant by chance, and a general by circumstances, he had shaken an empire in his first campaign and given a kingdom to France. He had told the Republicalln story to millions of oriental slaves, and forty centuries of despotism had witnessed his victories beneath the Egyptian pyramids. Till then he had been a soldier of freedom; but, lacking wisdom to decline power, he raised the sword conse- crate to right against the liberty of France. Victory recompensed him for the loss of honor; if he scattered the fagots of a revolution, divine in all its purposes, he gave at least to kings and parasites the chastisement of a parvenue. A plain plebeian, he put his foot upon traditions, and mingled his blood with that of the anointed. He destroyed armies in a day, and annihilated na- tions in a week. He filled the earth with the terror of his name; he blotted out ancient political landmarks and subdued nature as he had overrun mankind. He made the avalanche harmless, and smoothed the steep- ness of the mountain-tops; he put. his hands to piles which had rested unfinished for centuries, and they THE FLUNKEYS OF WATERLOO. 189 grew to perfect edifices. .The deep currents of human feeling, the natural laws, which legislation neither sees nor alters, seemed arrested by this incomprehensible being. That he might confess no vestige of human feebleness, he plucked his own heart from his bosom to show that he could not feel. The wife, whose arms had been around him through all his dreams of glory, went weeping from his palace to the music of her ri- val's wedding. At last, all Europe did him homage; but he was not content: he shook his sceptre at winter; he returned the visit of those unknown barbarians who came aforetime like locusts out of Asia; at the confines of two continents his march was arrested; only the whole world combined overthrew him at last; they bound him like Prometheus to a rock in the sea; but even 'there he was absolute. A little year of pinino and regretting; a moment of resolve and a flight across the waters like his own eagle; he stands on the soil of France once more, clad in mail, and as at an invoca- tion, the grave gives up his old companion in arms; he is anll Emperor for a span again; but what is he to- night, - this night after Waterloo! He had not shared death with those who had died for him; he had basely forsaken the field, and his horse's hoofs throbbed in the darkness like his human heart come back. The fierce Prussians, made -merciless by the remembrance of Jena, led on by that savage Blu- cher, who had a later dishonor to revenge, were gal- loping behind with bloody sabres, and to-morrow the world should hear of Bonaparte's disgrace. A thousand dark reminiscences arise: the beggared Duke, murdered in the ditch of the old chateau; the poor page: 190-191[View Page 190-191] 190 THE FLUNKEYS 0F WATERLOO. printerof Nuremburg, shot. dead because he could not be a Frenchman; the simple, valiant negro' starved in a dungeon, because he had hoped too well for his dusky race; he sees these folks around him as he dashes on; he thinks of the strewn plains behind, where the gashed and maimed lie pleading for water, and the dying curse 'God as their lives drip out; and he fears to die; he dares to live on though chained and mocked; he will gather some precious spoils together, and hide himself in the new world and hear afar off the renown which he never more shall know! These pictures came to Applegate Shrink, standing by the Belgian lion, two hundred feet in the air, with the battle-field beneath him; he listened to hear what pos- terity said of Bonaparte; for the guide had now arrived with'his English friends. "What time did the Prussians come up, beg par- don?" asked Triangle. "At four in the afternoon!" "At eight," said the ol0 gentleman, "the Juke had finished the work; the Prussians did nothing but plun- der the dead. They claimed all the brass buttons on the field, but the Juke demanded the cavalry boots for England; they have called 'em Wellingtons ever since." "Is it correct that Blucher in person had a hand-to- hand combat with Bonaparte?" inquired a young lady. "Substantially so, madam. The captive reclaimed himself with the decoration of the black-eagle, and the loan of his pocket flask; for Blucher, you know, was a desperate drinker, and uncommon thirsty that night!" "I was unable to trace that story to ally foundation," said the old gentleman. "I do not credit it." THE FLUNKEYS OF WATERLOO. 191 "You don't know anything about the battle," said the guide, irately. "You are an impostor!" cried the old gentleman. "You are a falsehood!" shrieked the guide. "I have read the best accounts." "And I was there!" Hard by the lion mound, an Englishman had set up a museum, where one may read journals contemporary with the battle, and see any amount of glorified rust. Mrs. Oates's carriage stood in front, and Applegate was directed to find Mrs. Oates herself, arid take what- ever commands she might have. She occupied a small dining-room above stairs, and was drinking champagne with the Hon. Mr. Scond. The relics of the feast cov- erbe the table. Scond was smoking a cigar, with his feet in the window, and Mrs. Oates was talking of her favorite theme, though her remarks were somewhat in- coherent. It looked to Applegate, who stopped timidly before the half-open door, as if Scond were drunk, and Mrs. Oates sober only in the comparative degree. "Then the poor Marquis lost his leg," said Mrs. Oates. "Dear me! how bad for the little Marquises! pray, Mr. Scond, are you intimate with the family?" "Friend of many years," said Scond. "How privileged!" said Mrs. Oates, sipping her champagne. "Should be dimnaition glad to make you known to the Marchioness," said Scond;- "only these bonds, as St. Paul remarked." "I should be delighted," announced Mrs. Oates; "you must know that, in our horrid transatlantic soci- ! page: 192-193[View Page 192-193] 192 ME ;LU:NIKSYS OF WATERLOO. ety, we who represent the aristocracy, so to speak, have no distinctions!" "Yes," said Scond, shaking his head; "there's that to be said." "Now, Mr. Scond, you know me well enough, I am sure, to observe that my manners, my opinions- illn- deed, my appearance, indicate the respectability of my birth." "Precisely so," continued Scond, burning his mouth with the wrong end of his cigar. "What was your maiden name, beg pardoni?" "Smith, Mr. Scond. I came from the Smiths of Tuckapuck, New Jersey, - a family known everywhere in America. They were of noble origin; but I need scarcely say to you, who are also an exile, that the noblest may be unfortunate." "There's that to be said," cried Scond. "I gave my distinguished name to Mr. Oates; the connection was a degrading one, but it enriched my family. We have one child; he has none of the char- acteristics of my ancestry. Need I tell you how these confessions make me ashamed? You can see my blushes!" "You've got a dimnition fine eye!" said Scond. "Thanks, noble sir!" exclaimed Mrs. Oates, looking at herself in the mirror of her fan. "If I have one ambition, it is to regain the proud place in society to which I am entitled. - Can you indeed place me in the boudoirs of the great?" "Quite sure!" "Dear Mr. Scond!" 'My dear Madame!" rTHE FLJNKEJYrS OF WATERLOO. 193 "' And the Marchioness?" "WMill be delighted to see you. You shall know every swell house in Grosvenor Square; you shall be recognized by Duchesses in Hyde Park; you shall kiss her Majesty's hand in the St. James" drawing-rooms; in short, you shall have the entry to every dimlrnitio fine place of the West End." "s hat ecstasy!" cried Mrs. Oates, biting half a "Only!" added Scond, unsteadily, "you must de- liver me from these bonds." "But you owe eight thousand pounds!" "There's that to be said." "It is enormous!" "You are a splendid woman!" "I cannot afford to lose the money!" "I will pay you with devotion! Your style has in- fatuated me! I worship the ground you press so lightly! Come to my arms, Smith Let me embrace Mrs Oates drew back alarmed. The Hon. Scond fell upon e floor, and, finding it difficult to rise, went to sleep immediately. The shock brought up Mr. Oates. They put the good lady into her barouche, and returned to Brussels by twilight, while Mr. Oates had the satis- faction of seeing Scond ejected from the Museum, and Bolivar, of grmiamng at him from the back of the vehicle. page: 194-195[View Page 194-195] 194 A LOVE-LETTElB FROM THE MBUSA* CHAPTER XIX. A LOVE-LE'TTER FROM THE MEUSE. Applegate to Margaretha. "COLOGNE, October. "MY DEAREST FRIEND: I have to tell you of our travels since-we left Brussels. The harvests had all been gathered on the plains which contending armies have so enriched, and I could not see that the beautiful country we threaded merited the name the English give it, of the 'Cockpit of Europe.' Yet all joy grows out of sorrow. The oat-blades are the largest where the best blood fell, and out of successive carnages have come the ripest liberties of the world. We burst upon the Meuse at Namur, where the pleasant Sambre joins it, and on the steep precipice between them rose the strong citadel. They meant it to keep back France. How they have hedged in those wonderful Celtic peo- ple, as if they lived in dread of them! I have a curi- osity to know the martial nation whose uprisings are so mighty, and whose vitality outlasts all combina- tions. We saw the mausoleum of Don John of Austria, the hero of Lepanto. His mother was a washerwoman; her blood must have been brighter than the Queen's, for out of jealousy of his great A LOVE-LETTER FROM THE MEUSE. 195 exploits, Don John was poisoned, they say, by his royal brother. "We enjoyed the scenery of the Meuse from the deck of the steamer. I had heardit so extolled that I was somewhat disappointed. The same nature has not t wrought in Europe and in America. After our broad, deep streams and profound forests, the old Continent seems tame. Whatever interests an American here, is man's work; we leave great nature behind us when we come. The country was very populous. Walloon villages along the margins were many and quaint, and now and thn huge mills sent up their blackened chim- neys to the clouds, and we heard the trip-hammers ringing to the hills. They were making arms for America. In every stroke of the sledge I heard a cry of agony, When the hundreds of laborers filed from the mills at dinner, I knew that they could not bury all lji whom their morning's work had slain. That these should live it was necessary that we should die. "One mill in particular which we passed had been transformed from a Prince Bishop's Palace. Are not all Bishops Princes now? The publican who prayed in the temple had no descendants. I read, as I passed along, of the Walloon people fighting their rulers. They were a turbulent folk; but we cannot have free- dom without noise. If they had paid their taxes and said nothing, they might have been praised in loyal history; but loyalty is dry reading. "Old Peter, the hermit, was buried in one of these villages. He was an unconscious politician on the popular side. He preached all the nobles off to Pales- tine, that the plebeians might get up a crusade of their page: 196-197[View Page 196-197] own in safety; and the Liegeoise and the Franchemon- tese, who flung themselves upon the Dukes and Bishops, were the Hermit's best disciples. If this had been remembered, poor Peter's bones would never have gone to Rome. , "The limestone rocks beside -us were often high and jagged, and a plain poet has likened them to old monastic turrets. But we looked in vain for the real monasteries which were once so plentiful. Now and then their ruins appeared, with those of feudal donjons, which gave us, at one glance, the history of the gray ages. Would that we had still, dear Gretchen, some such religious nooks to hide our heads from the wars! '? The simple scholar, who loved his studies and med- , itation, escaped the errantry of soldiering then, by . drawing Christ's malitle around him. We are all forced to go to-day; there are no holy clefts to hide us; we must fight, or be exiled. I had melancholy b feelings as I rode through the loveliest passages of the Meuse, and marked the quietude of the land so often trodden and depopulated. "All enthusiasm in our great transatlantic struggle : had passed 'from me; I only felt that peace was reap- ing its blessings here, and we were sowing the whirl- wind there. On river-sides as beautiful as these, armed men were marching, and the combats which had made these villages memorable were to-day memorizing our own. So we came to Liege, where Mr. Oates, the American gentleman who employs me, had to purchase muskets for the North. His wife and the rest of us ran down to Spa, where, under pretext of drinking the mineral waters, thousands go yearly to sin. Mrs. A LOVE-LETTER FROM TE MEUSE. 197 Oates is a very ambitious lady, and sometimes pains me, though I am doubtless too sensitive, and mistake my duties for impositions. I wish she would not so often humiliate me. It is bitter to be a menial; but my other patrons make me forget it by their kindness; she reminds me of my place before strangers, and I am often chafed and angry. Yet, I know, dear friend, that if in all other eyes I stand abashed, in yburs I am always the same. Now and then, also, some new acquaintance brightens my way, as when yesterday a gentleman attached to the American Legation, in Hol- land, sent me a kind letter, and my sister has written me that her marriage is soon to be celebrated. I lament and rejoice daily that I was persuaded to come abroad, and see but dimly what fate means to award me. Yet in all these flickering phases, one feeling- I will not call it a hope - comforts and encourages me ever; it is that I am beloved, and that I love. "We stopped at Aix-la-Chapelle, the city of Char- lemagne. He was the son of a usurper, and all great tyrants are such. He stood on the threshold of civili- zation, and all was darkness behind him. He lived in the lamplight era of the world, and his sword was the torch to announce the daybreak; they have well given it the name of Joyeuse. They found him, after three centuries of entombment, sitting upon his throne in the vault of the Cathedral, wearing the imperial crown. The gospels lay wide open on his knees; he was a type of malnkind, glaring at them with his eyeless sockets, as if striving to understand them. "When I entered the Prussian territory, my thoughts turned upon Germany. The Teuton people have given page: 198-199[View Page 198-199] 198 - A LOVE-LETTER FROM THE MEUSE, much to our country. They have carried, thither their industry, their frugality, their domestic virtues, and their love of abstract freedom. Yet do you think that their positive influence upon the enfranchisement of the world has been proportionate to their lnumbers and their learning'? -Do they not reed and ponder too well? Can we not be too deliberate and grave? The history of Germany, in this our century, has been con- servative, negative. Its affections, not its principles, have moved it. Its devotion has been all for Father- land, not enough for mankind. Its revolutions against tradition have been feeble. Compare 1848 in Germany with 1797 in France,. Yet from that same France which Germany assisted to vanquish, it has drawn its latest privileges. We expect more from the land which gave us Lutheranism. We wish Schillers, whose patriotism will not stop at the Rhine, and Goethes, to teach us that knowledge is not its own solace, but that every thought should be powder, and every thinker a ball. "We came into Cologne at twilight; but as soon as I had secured leave of absence from my employers, I strolled along the narrow street to the bridge of boats, and looked at the wide Rhine, -a grand sight, even to one who has sailed on the Hudson and read of the' Mississippi. The swinging lamps threw tremulous re- flections upon the rapid current, and there was music from the hills of Deutz. I saw the many spires tip- ping the walls of Cologne, with the stunted tower of the Cathedral looming over all, and the gray sky shin- ing through the flyingg buttresses of the choir. There were steamers flinging flamy furnaces upon the water. ;' A LOVE-LETTER FROM THE MEUSE. 199 The tread of men and beasts rang down the bridge, and while I leaned on the rail and watched the dark ripples go by, I thought of the white Alps whose snows they gathered, and the castellated rocks at whose bases they gurgled, and the seainto which they fell. Now am I indeed upon consecrated ground. How like the old Pilgrim's in the Progress has been this travel of mine! but he left his love behind for a hope before, and I came for a hope, but only found a love. I am close to you, dear Gretchen; when you look at the Rhine again, know that its bubbles, if you could understand them when they burst, would tell how they saw me beside your own river, thinking of you. Will the stream be dearer to you? It is thrice dear to me, because with the tales of antiquity and romance which surge up as I gaze into it, is mnincgled the fondness of a first and for- eign affection. Love loses nothing in a strange land. "Yours, with allheart, "APPLEGATE." The last of the party who should have fallen sick was the first to do so. Master Bolivar, after bathing in the cold Rhine nwater one day, had to be put to bed, and a doctor was called to him. The latter was a rep- resentative man; he looked at the boy a long time be- fore venturing an opinion. Bolivar, he said finally, exhibited symptoms of heart disease; he had grown too rapidly; he needed careful attention. Mrs. Oates said that the doctor was a pretender, and Bolivar was left upon his back while the party went to visit the Cathe- dral. Some edifices win unexpected applause, because they page: 200-201[View Page 200-201] zUVU A LOVE-LE'"TTlER FROl'M THE MEJJUSEj. are not famed; the great chaos of Cologne disappointed Applegate. He stood in the irregular space before the Cathedral, and looked up at the stunted tower, waving 'with wild vines and weeds, and holding aloft the old crane which had creaked centuries gone by to the cheer i of the builders. It was creation with God resting be- t fore the seventh day. Man in his dauntless confidence had put his tribes to the unfinished world, and after six centuries the work was, going on; stone after stone took its place in the walls; like phantoms of the an- cient masons, men swarmed upon the roof; silence and confusion no longer dwelt in Babel; they were raising it to the clouds, not as a menace to heaven which they feared, but as an altar for that which they hoped. Yet the grand spirit which projected it was forgotten. The architects of Shinar and of Cologne sleep together. Out of a tamer civilization, one had arisen to complete this wonderful poem, though the original author had left no fragment of his design. They have a tradition that the devil drew the plan of the edifice, the same, perhaps, which reared Pandemoniumin Milton's epic :- ---(" out of the earth a fabric huge Rose like an exhalation." It was in truth with a thrill that Applegate meas- ured the high choir,- a pinnacle like a pine-tree, waving upon every airy buttress, but all was incom- plete, like his delight. There was so much to be wished, that what existed left a broken impression. From the carved portals his eye wandered to the dwarfed tower, and he. compared the Cathedral to a deformed giant. A LOVE-LETTER FROM THE MEUSE. 201 Within, he was indeed charmed and awed. The ceil- i ing was like a twilight sky, a little closer to the earth; the setting sun streaming redly through the stained win- dows at the horizon, and the human beings walking upon the floors were a trifle magnified in the dimness. In and out of the shadowy aisles flitted dark figures, no bigger than birds upon the turf of profound forests. It seemed that they had reached some oriental palace, vast, mysterious, and magnificent, and the conceit was not less vivid when they were shown the skulls of those Eastern Kings who followed the unknown Star to the cradle of Christ. Their bony foreheads glittered with gems; their names were written in rubies; it was a rich binding for so doubtful a story. There were other skulls at the church of St. Ursula, eleven thousand in number. So many virgins were once seen together, and they were all French! The Huns massacred them at Cologne, on their return from Rome, because of their matrimonial scruples. If the virgins were not more inviting than their skulls, they should have had a slow chance for martyrdom. All the eleven thousand were preserved, and exhibited. The old sacristan who told their history deserved to be can- onized for his great faith. He was not so philosophical as the sexton in Hamlet, but quite as grave. Mrs. Oates made Bolivar's sickness an excuse for renting the whole pavilion of the steamer Hohenzoller when the party went up the Rhine. But really she paid no- attention to the boy, who seemed to have imbibed some untilial aversion for her. Now and then she walked through the cabin in a stately way, and stopped awhile on deck, where she made Applegate place a stool be- page: 202-203[View Page 202-203] 202 A LOVE-LETTER FROM THE MEUSE. neath her feet and recount the history of the passing places. She heard little that he said; her own impor- tance was the staple of her thoughts. She sighed and languished, in ludicrous imitation of a grand lady, and would hear translated all the conversation of the other passengers which concerned herself. To comply would have displeased Mrs. Oates, for she was generally ridi- culed, and Applegate was too truthful to invent re- sponses; whereas, when he replied that he could not understand them, Mrs. Oates made ungenerous allusions to his salary, and wished for a better courier. Between his vexation and mortification, Applegate found his office only less wretched than his poverty. It the end Mrs. Oates disliked him, and he knew that his days of service were numbered. He was at best a menial, and soon to become a beggar again. These were the components of his foreign romance, and the iron of dependence fell upon Applegate's soul. Mr. Oates liked him; but Mr. Oates was a practical man, who could not understand a sensitive nature, and who could make no alliance against his wife; but Miss Kent both perceived Applegate's grief and pitied him. She was also a woman of the world; but the frankness of her communication manifested a generous nature, and she despised the contractor's wife too much to hate her; outwardly they went well together. CHAPTER XX. THE PANORAMA OF THE RHINE, BUT Applegate was gliding up the Rhine. He whis- pered that to himself, and kept up heart. They left Cologne at dawn, and all the wayside villages sent out contributions of travellers in flag-boats, manned by brown German rowers. They took up peasant girls wearing gilt stilettoes in their tresses as Gretchen had done, and many English women in straw hats and heavy shoes, who had come to the continent on purpose to keep a diary. A few Americans were on board, chiefly young men, who disliked military service at home, though few were plain enough to confess it; these were severe advocates for the war nevertheless, and all were invalids. One of them gave Applegate a vivid descrip- tion of dyspepsia, from which the former had been a long and poignant sufferer. Applegate commiserated him, when the young man -said that eating was danger- ous exercise for dyspeptics, but was really alarmed to see that he devoured everything within his reach at dinner. For some time they passed between low, reedy bor- ders only, with now and then a long raft drifting past them, on its way from the Alps to the sea. At last the seven mountains or mounds loomed up to the left, with page: 204-205[View Page 204-205] 204 - THE PANORAMA OF THE RHNE. Drachenfels, nearest the river, crowned with a ruin, and in midstream the convent island of Notlenworth, - the seat of one of those beautiful traditions which lie upon the Rhine like episodes along some flowing poem. Thenceforward the relics were frequent; old battle-. mented walls enclosed the villages; on every cliff some blackened tower crumbled sternly to decay, and now and then a massive castle, almost entire, flung the shad- ows of -its turrets into the deep river. Around these ruins the vineyards looked to the sun, and Applegate said with a thrill:-- "Oh! the storied Gaul and Roman and their consecrated clime, Where thWe grapes are crushed to music, and the ruins fall to rhyme." With each of these fragments some legend was associated, and the boy's fine imagination repeopled the hills with knight and dragon, heroine and robber, priest and king. Every hamlet had been the seat of some long struggle between prelates and laymen; every ruined fortress signalled some bad career of titled robbers making war with industry. Through those old halls, where, the wind howled, shrill human cries, bursting from dungeons where the rack was the throne, had startled the watchman on the battlements where the owl was sentry now. A sail upon the river was, to these highwaymen, the prophet's cloud in the sky. And often, with their booty, went some citizen's fair daughter, to make their grim refectories brighter than the lustre of wine. The country folks looked up to these strongholds with much of the same reverence which we pay to the dismantled walls, and yielded to exactions so obsequiously that ; TIIE PANORAMA OF THE RHE. 205 '? i long custom had nearly lifted robbery to the dignity of as law. But in the end rapacity inflamed resistance. Men warred for shadows in those days no more than in ours. When the Lord of Rheinfels increased his toll the burghers revolted. Tradesmen and farmers, the ultimate vindicators of all usurped rig;:ht, overthrew the fortresses of the Rhine and thus for a tax--that most palpable of offences-the mightiest revolutions have commenced. The powerful fascination of crime has made the Rhine renowned. The vineyards were pleasant to Apple- gate,-climbing the rocks by dizzy terraces, and dropping their purple clusters into the river, till its current seemed intoxicating like wine. The blue eyes of the peasant girls, their golden hair and bright cos- tumes, moved througll the files of grapes, and along the paths and summits, like so many sunbeams. The red roofs of the towers, and the droll people waiting at the landings, with here and there old men, - not of our generation, - leaning upon their staves at cottage doors, had each their fascination; but the feudal ruins were the chief wonders of the stream. They were so frequent and so dissimilar. They stood so boldly out- lined against the slky, and blended so well with the hues of rock, river, and vineyard. They seemed so fitting receptacles for bloody acts, and wore so venera- bly their mosses of tradition, and opened so many gap- ing places to hide men's dark suspicions, that the young adventurer marked little besides. He thought the Rhine, indeed, a pleasing stream, but not the rival of his own majestic Hudson, nor so grand as a hundred unpraised rivers, which swept through wild Amnerican page: 206-207[View Page 206-207] 206 THE PANORAMA OF THE RHNE. forests, and leap in cataracts from youth to manhood, and, marching by cities, the first-born of a vigorous 'civilization, fall gravely into the sea, not as tributaries, but as equals. Man, not nature, was enthroned upon the Rhine. Here one might think; there one must wonder. They steamed past Hammerstein, besieged by that Swedish giant whom Richelieu 'conjured up; past Teu- felshaus, upon which rested ever the maledictions of its unpaid laborers; past Neuwied, where Catholics have consented to burn no Jews, and Protestants to leave to God the damnation of Herrnhuters ; past Weissenthurm, where the French Republicans, in the pride of their enfranchisement, pure from all stains of conquest for conquest's sake, burst upon Germany, with young Hoche to lead them; past the grave of that same hero, asleep in mortality beside his comrade Marceau, who shared his immortality; past Schonibornlust, where the Bour- -bon leeches, pensionaries of the enemies of France, met to devise its ruin; and they stopped a day at Cob- lentz to visit Ehrenbreitstein. Applegate felt his pulses tingle as they recom- omenced the journey. He was close to Bingen; Mr. Oates had promised to rest there for the night; he should see Gretchen again, and in one hour of love be - compensated for long and lingering privations. The Rhine here entered a dark and wild defile; they seemed to pass out of the sunshine and freedom of our time into the gloom and grandeur of the feudal era; the ruins multiplied; a stately castle, like a human thing, strode to the brink of every promontory, bearing its donjon, like a halberd, aloft, and leaning in mighty - THE PANORAMA OF THE RHNE. 207 decay as if to see its features in the water, and contrast them with the pale and studious face of the. younger civilization around it. Here was Stolzenfels, built by bishops who added a military chapter to the New Tes- tament; yonder rose Maarksburg, above its living graves and torture-chambers. Rheinfels stood near by, dead but undecayed, like the skeleton of the mastodon; and beneath it the tower of St. Goar, clinging to the shining Rhine like the cloak of its evangelist, which he hung out to dry on a sunbeam. Farther on, lay Lur- lei, the haunt of the Syren, with Oberwesel, where the Jews were kind enough to crucify a boy, that the Christians might have reason for robbing them; the castle of Pfalz rose in mid-stream, where Louis, the good-natured, came to die. He was the son of Charle- magne, who steered the world with his heel. The con- queror's heir would lead it by ribbons. He learned how men were ungrateful, but never how to revenge; he fled from the disobedience of his children, from the cares of state, from the satiety of luxury - to shake the dust of empire from his feet, and float upon the ripples of music to a merciful oblivion. Then they came to the Rhi-negau, where the vineyards are like gold planted on the hill-slopes, so that they are ever glowing. One mav drink the sunshine here, which in our Northern climates only kisses our lips; it lies upon these hills in passion, like the Turk among his beautiful women; his lusty blood flows in the young clusters Vwhich flutter at their breasts, and the Kings of the earth are supplicants for every grape. At Rheinstein, where the Jefs used to pay that especial toll which they all retaliate upon Christians now, the Mouse Tower appeared in the midst page: 208-209[View Page 208-209] 208 THE PANORAMA OF THE RHNE. of the Rhine, and Applegate knew that Bingen was before him. - But it was found that Master Bolivar had become dangerously ill. .'Mr. Oates decided to push on to Mayence for medical attendance, and Applegate felt that circumstance, like a shadow, rose forever between his passion and its object. He beheld the town with emotion; it lay beneath a hill-side on the slopes of two rivers; a castle tower rose above it, and the white chapel of Saint Roch spotted the crest of the eminence. A line of pretentious hotels stood nearest the landing, but the old dwellings lay back from the Rhine towards the Nahe, on whose margin he could see the parish church. Around it on every side lioed up the precipices. Ehrenfels lifted its jagged turrets on the opposite steep, and beautiful vistas of the blue river, winding among the hills, were like realized visions to the sleepy good folks of Bingen. But Applegate looked in vain for Gretchen; twice, thrice, he thought he had recognized her in some flitting figure of the dim street. He marvelled that some mysterious agency had not apprised her of his coming, some quick beat- ing of the heart, some presentiment, some' dream. Alas! she did not heed. A little moment might have placed, him at her side; it would have been a luxury if only to say, "Sweetheart, I am passing!"But the bell rang twice; the land slid away too hastily; though Bingen kept in view for a long time till they' passed grim Rudesheim, and saw the vineyards of Johannisberg around their fair chateau. For the rest, Applegate had no heart to look. He only watched the reedy islands, where Charlemagne loved to fish, vainly THE PANORAMA OF THERSINE. 209 striving to call back his boyhood with its amusements; and when the town of Biberich floated by, he saw with a sigh that Mayence was close at hand, and walked along the queay with his party, very sad and thought- ful. Bolivar grew worse. His doctor said some grave things to himself, which only Applegate understood. Had Mrs. Oates done so she might not have gone to the theatre, which she did with Miss Kent, leaving Mr. Oates, a little alarmed, to sit by the boy, and ordering Applegate to await her with a carriage at eleven o'clock. In the mean time the latter told the invalid stories. Bolivar was very fond of Applegate, and had always loved to listen to his narratives; but in declining health, the combative child manifested a passion for these recitals. They brought the windy air, the exercise and the adventure which he loved into his sick chamber. "Tell me to-night, Applegate," he said, "something stunning! Let there be a fight in it. ' I don't like fairy tales which I can't believe, nor moral stories 0 which are dry. Give me something hearty, you know, with war in it, and heaps of battles." Then Applegate told Bolivar some episodes of French history which he had been reading, filling in the details from his own vivid imagination: of the Grand Ferre or Big Hammer, who slew a score of English with his naked sledge in the Forest of Cuise; of the Black Huntsmantm of Fontainebleau, who warned the good King Henry of his death; of Barbe Blen, who stabbed young children that he might make a bath of their blood to give him health again; of the dog of page: 210-211[View Page 210-211] Montargis, which fought its master's murderer in the lists and throttled him to confession i of the dark Baron des Adrets, who gave no mercy to his Catholic prisoners, but drove them over precipices to fall upon his soldiers' pikes; of Roland of the Cevennes, who led the Cami- sard rebellion, and died for his religion, sword in hand, having made priestcraft tremble; of the man wearing an iron mask who roamed like an abhorred thing about the lie Sainte Marguerite; of Bosquiauix, who fought for the league at Pierrefonds; and of the blood-stained Guises who were slain at Blois; of Fredegonde and Brunchaut, those queens who rise like fiends in the gray of history, remembered only for their crimes. Bolivar listened feverishy, swayed by the story "through every emotion, condemning or applauding as -hewas variously affected, and once he said, "Apple- gate, I want to be a general." '"Yes?" exclaimed Applegate, watching the flush upon the lad's gnarled cheeks; " but you have already fought several campaigns, Bolivar!" "Oh! I am ashamed of them! A general, you know, don't tumble in the streets as I did. He studies, and plans, and never fights less than a battle. I mean to make Pop send me to a cadet-school, and I shall come out a soldier." "But think of the dangers, Bolivar. One may lose his arm, or his-leg, or even his head." "Not when they feel as I do," said Bolivar, half ris- ing. *"I tell you I begin to grow old with the desire to do like the folks you told me of. If I were meant to be killed, how could it be so? All night I dream of charges and cannons. I hear guns in my sleep which r-AINAMA OF TaE RNEHo. 1, :" wake me upand the beating of drums; so that I find my heart going pit-a-pat as if it would break my ribs. Feel it now, Applegate." Bolivar was verypale, and, as Applegate leaned for- ward, the sick boy seized his hand, and pressing it upon his breast, fell forward with a cry of pain. His heart beat violently, indeed, and the elder turned hastily alaway to call Mr. Oates. Bolivar held him back. - Applegate," he cried, "what if I should die and never be a genleral?"He began to sob, and the first tears which the other had-ever known him to shed, fell down his scarred, hard-featured face, and into his com- rade's palm. For a moment his slight, childish figure trembled; but then he straightened up and shook off his tears, almost indignantly. - "Tell me again about the battle of Ravenna," he said. And Applegate related the history of young Gaston de Foix, who died a Commander at the age of twenty- V two. "Applegate," said Bolivar in the end, "I shall never cry again." He lay still a while, with his lips shut and a restless eye, till the other marked the late- ness of the clock, and stole away, without arousing him. The theatre had not yet dismissed, and the courier sat upon a bench in the open place at Mayence; at the base of the Statue of Gutenberg, to whom the world owes the art of printing. As he watched the lights of the cafes and the dark mass of the cathedral tower rising behind him, a young man walked out from the theatre, and sat beside Applegate. "It is a fair night," he said, in German. "Quite fair," replied Applegate. page: 212-213[View Page 212-213] 212 1 THE PANORAMA OF THE RHNE. "You are English," said the other, "if I may judge from your accent?" "No, I am American." The young man started as if the intelligence pleased him', Applegate saw that he was tall and broad-shoul- dered, like a grown man, though his face would have been boyish but for the square jaws and decisive mouth. He spoke like one much older than he, seemed, - and not conceitedly, but commandingly, -and con- trasting himself with the new-comer, Applegate felt not only a physical humiliation, but a corresponding inferiority of will, decision, self-reliance. "I am Swiss,'" he said, "and am on my way to America. You have war there." "Unhappily so," alnswered Applegate. "A present misfortune,' cried the Swiss; "to me there is something nerving in the earnestness and im- mensity of your contest. I have watched it from the be- ginning. I read of your hundreds of thousands of sol- diers rolling into the ranks of either army impelled by that strong Republican pride which disdains to chaffer or compromise; of the millions behind them who wil- lingly relinquish wives and children; and of the terri- ble battles where column meets the shock of column without flinch or subterfuge, as if manliness disdained allegiance to death. ^ "America has always been a grand land to me; a transatlantic 'Helvetia on a magnified scale, wild with forests, mountains and cataracts; its people now show themselves Swiss in spirit: Swiss of other days, when our courage was marketable with princes, and five king- doms trembled at our tread upon the Alps. This frf THE PANORAMA OF THE RHNE. 213 peaceful civilization, where lawyers in gowns usurp the places of men in mail, is abhorrent to me. There can be no virtue without valor. We need the purification of war, -not only to extort justice, but to preserve i individual manliness. It is for this that I like Amer- ica. Europe pronounceeher in the way to bankruptcy. I only see her writing a glorious history." Here the people came pouring from the theatre, and Applegate was compelled to go. "Can I not see you again?" asked the Swiss. "I leave Mayence to-morrow for Cologne, on my way to Havre. I may see no more Americans, and there is something I wish to know.9" Applegate bade the young man await him at the same plaqe. He was already interested; for the other's originality and independence led him away firom his own cares. He conducted Mrs. Oates to her hotel, and, rejoining the Helvetian, they strolled together upon the river-bank, where the ghoulish mills, an- chored in the Rhine, were floundering like so many spent swimmers, seeking to climb the current. "You will excuse the demand I make upon your time," continued the Swiss, " when you learn that I go . to America to take a part in the war. I know little of the principles at variance there, except that the Fed- erals are fighting against slavery. They gave us money, besides, in '57, when Prussia wished to defraud us of Neufchatel; but these things influence me less than a penchant I have for soldiering. We are tradi- tional mercenaries in Switzerland. For five centuries we were the household guards of kings. We did not sell ourselves for pay alone, but we loved the profes- page: 214-215[View Page 214-215] - L4 'TfIE PANUKOAMA UO' TlHEi RAHNJE sion of arms. For the last half century we have been tradesmen, goatherds and cheese-mongers. These t pursuits debase a brave people more than anarchy or brigandage. For me, I did not bind myself to them. I feel the old Helvetian ardor to put myself in the van of great principles which have made their appeal to the sword; and I assure you, sir, that to-night, with jus money enough to take me to Havre, with no knowledge of the English language, and without a friend across the Atlantic, I am as happy as a free knight at a cross- roads. My father is a wealthy corn-factor, of Thul; he would have me measured into his business, and, when I become pelfish'and pinch-faced, to marry some wench in the canton. Nom de Dieul If the old Alps were to bury Thun to-night, I would not turn my back to the West. Ho! for America and the fighting!" "You humiliate me," said Applegate, when the Swiss had finished. "You are braver from impulse than I from duty. I was timorous to share the danger of the Republic, and came away." The Swiss took Applegate to a- c(fe, and over a bottle of Rheinstein they talked of youth and poetry and valor, till the old clock pealed midnight. In the morning the Swiss was on his way to Havre, and the Oateses were at Wisbaden. A month at the Baths! Mrs. Oates thought them horribly profane places at first. She attended the English church, paying her five francs at the door, as at a theatre, and heard the toothless old beings around her praying God to give them luck at rouge et noir to- morrow, and steadily refused to lay a shilling on the silver plate to send away the poor wretches who had T. aSE PANORAMA OF THE RHNE. 2i5 become beggared in the Kuursaal. But her ladyship the Viscountess Pewtor, and the Hon. Mrs. Flump, who were also church-goers, and who patronized Mrs. Oates, on some occasions, having guaranteed gambling to be a vice so inseparable from rank that even sovereigns en- gaged in it, Mrs. Oates begged her acquaintances to accompany her to the baize table. iere the blandness of the roues of rank, the excitement of the play, the opportunity it gave her-to display gold, and more than all, her avarice,--a quality perfectly consistent with her extravagance,-drew Mrs. Oates on, little by little, till the game became her passion. She lost, of course, lackinog intelligence to wager well; yet as her purse shrank in diniensions, so grew her enthusiasm. From the first turn of the ball to the midnight clicking of the last stake she sat at the table side. People came up to stare at the coarse, fat, reckless Americaine, and the very coupeurs satirized her, in French, as she breathed hard, watching, her money receding. She made friends, of course, -such friends as one meets at the Baths : keen, clever, conventional folks, to whom there is nothing fiesh in the world, and with these she passed her money into the great pit, till once she counted her losses, and was astounded at their amounts page: 216-217[View Page 216-217] 216 BPPLEGATE'S SECOND TEMPTATION. CHAPTER XXT. APPLEGATE'S SECOND TEMPTATION. HER infatuation for the baize tables at Baden-Baden compelled Mr. Oates to hurry his wife off to Basle, on the borders of Switzerland. The sickness of Bolivar continued, and he was no longer able to enjoy himself j with that violence and humorous aggressiveness which so long marked him. He lay in the chamber at the iHotel Sauvage, looking down upon the medley of ser- vants and cooks and guests crossing the court-yard, and ,vague, boyish pictures of conflict and stubborn defiance swam upon his wandering fancies. He talked to Applegate, in his earnest way, of the war across the water; of the wheeling artillery of Siegel, that de- ceived retreat; of the isolated daring of young Cushing, propelled along the enemy's water-courses by his own audacious spirit, likie a lonely and sentient shadow; of Ayres, at Bull Run, closing the way to rebel victory with a single field-piece. These statures, interwoven with distant tableaux of wreck, panic, huzza and tri- umph, made the afternoons at the quaint, quiet, old inn, peopled with grotesque phantasms, and to these, at last, succeeded a long, blank, ominous unconscious- ness. - The Swiss doctor, who had charge of the case, called APPLEGATE'S SECOND TEMPTATION. 217 Mr. and Mrs. Oates outside, one day, and said to them, softly, that the boy's days were numbered. "You may keep him, perhaps, till the cold days of winter, if he can cross the Alps safely, and rest awhile in some of the sheltered valleys close to the Mediterra- nean. It is pleasant, now, at Lugano and in Como. Do not stop on the moist plain of Milan; but Genoa, has pure air, and there are nooks near Florence where life hides a while in safety, though death comes cer- tainly with frost." Mrs. Oates gave a loud long cry. "I'm sure the Lord means to punish me," she said. "tI tried to elbow into good society, and forgot my boy." Mr. Oates shook with gristly emotion. "Doctor," he said, "can't he hang on? Can't the young party comply with his conditions? Must we forfeit our claim to our only son? O Mrs. Oates, my dear, we must not fail in our obligations; if we do, there is a fine, a penalty, a judgment, sued out against us." Miss Kent, unwilling to obtrude upon the -grief of' her associates, and heartily pitying Mrs. Oates, who seemed quite overcome, walked with Applegate to the river-side; and from the terrace of the strange old Calvinistic church they looked at the- hills of the Black Forest, and the frail rope ferry, drawn like a cobweb across the green hurry of the Rhine. "That strange old ferryman," she said, "reminds me of the man, Charon, in the mythology. He crosses and recrosses between the sunrise and the siunset, and at every trip he takes some fated passenger." "Yes," said Applegate, "no matter whether they be footsore with long travel, or homely burghers who have 10 page: 218-219[View Page 218-219] 218 APPLEGATE S SECOND TEMPTATION. dwelt at one garrulous fireside. Here, in the grave- yard beside us, are two such differently representative lives,- Burkhardt, the great traveller, and Erasmus, the conventional reformer. The one went far into savage wilds; the other farther into abstruse tomes and thoughts." "And what an end," said Miss Kent, " to the life of an adventurer I This town 4o Basle is solemn as a mil- lennial twilight; its silence and staidness plague me. I shall quit your party to-morrow, and seek in the delicious variety of Paris that gayety for which I have been pining. Once again, Applegate--poor, sensi- tive, ambitious boy! - I offer to divide my purse with you. Come! In that tropic of civilization there is a softer decalogue. We shall there see men and women made charitable by art for each other's follies, and passion .etherealized by sentiment. Color, and music, and pleasure are immortal in Paris. Joy migrates , through a thousand forms; there is no vulgarity nor any prudishness. Do you not warm with the anticipa- tion, and feel your heart throb for the possession of this true Europe?" "I dimly perceive you," said Applegate, insensibly recoiling; "I hope I am mistaken. But if you mean more than respect, than good, know that I have a shield better than my own weak manhood: it is love!" "That," said Miss Kent, too ardent to note his re- ply, " that is- the end of all to which I have referred. Paris's love!" "Love," said Applegate, more pained than ever, "Love, such as I seek, has a quieter shrine. It is the love of the soul, the sympathy, -the faith, that I seek."' ?I APPLEGATE'S SECOND TEMPTATION. 219 "Away!" she continued; "this is culled from a ser- mon, and of sermons I am weary. Listen to me! I am no sprite; but a creation of flesh and sense. I would not consort my whole intelligence and existence with one man's, nor sit at one narrow hearth to wait for yeayearsears, YEARS! only to see new faces born of my pain and sorrow. The good wife's motto and example are empty sound and falsehood. Chance opened before me the blue road to this ripe and roseate Europe. Therefore I will to Paris, and you shall be my young- and blushing Cicerone." ' She waited, with almost the light of fire in her blue eyes, not with any bashfulness nor coyness, but with a direct and wistful glance, full open, like the complete sunshine, and all her round excellence of wrist and foot and cheek and figure rushed upon Applegate's regard like the first dispensation of the earthy-beautiful. He recoiled, and yet his thrill was. not entirely indignant; he saw the red lips redden, the breast heave unevenly, the fair eyes float and flash and draw him toward them, and the hand that touched his was warm and soft and close. Had he a right to be the menial of his inferiors, condemned to a virtuous servitude that crushed his pride of life each day, when of those charms and the fondness that warmed them he might be the equal, - compensating conscience with variety, earning glimpses of a more joyous world, where the pure in- tellect he had guarded through beggary and sickness might be appeased for its degradation by the certain culture of new human experiences, looking at man and emotion and destiny with the easy philosophy of a youthful liceise, and if he suffered a reproach at all, page: 220-221[View Page 220-221] 220 APPLEGATE'S SECOND TEMPTATION. not the mean, miserable reproach of toiling like a slave for a vulgar woman who paid him the bitter bread of charity. "I see," said Miss Kent, suddenly cold and dark; Q do you think me blind? It is not I who can touch you, but the lGerman girl whose triste you kept in the steerage." It was jealousy that she exhibited, and all his suspi- cions were confirmed. "If I hesitated a moment, Miss Kent," he said, "your reproof is indeed a reproach. I love a good woman, to whom I am plighted. I have no other answer." She had a dark and dreadful face for an instant. "I could almost hate you," she cried, with a burst of passion. "But no! Applegate, you are a novice. I protest you, (playfully) the baby of a girl. We part friends. Give me your hand." He saw the redness returning to the lips, the flush to the cheeks, and he feared her touch. He put his hands behind him. "Good-by," he said, retiring, and as he stole off into the shadows of the evening, he seemed to see a beckon- ing face, like that of Bingen, which smiled approval and reassurance. Miss Kent stopped a moment, alone, and looked into the river. "It hurries," she said, "it hurries; a stone no more arrests it than does me this boy's reproof. We are all hurrying to our fates by our several routes. Now for Paris!" GOOD NEWS AT LUCERNE. 221 CHAPTER XXTT. GOOD NEWS AT LUCERNE. IN the morning Miss Kent was gone. Mrs. Oates said of her, "She has evidently seen little society; nobody has been impressed by her. I think we should have been obliged to announce ourselves as not of her party; so it is better that she should voluntarily quit Mr. Oates remarked: "The young lady seems 'off- ish.' There were no terms to our contract. When she rescinded it, she left us no legal power to coerce her. She appears to be visionary, friend Applegate. Secure the baggage, and we will look around town." Twenty-seven years before Jesus Christ came with the shining of a new and portentous star, this town of Basle had its origin with the retreating Romans. It was, therefore, of a man's age when the career of that pure and aggressive Evangelist had stirred scholastic Judaism to contempt, hate and persecution. While he was feeding the mighty-multitude upon the contents of one lunch-basket, the founders of this frontier town were perhaps seeking their first charter of incorporation, and the blacksmith and the inn-keeper might have been rivals for the magistracy. Sixty years before America lifted its bold coasts from the mist of western distance, page: 222-223[View Page 222-223] - 222 GOOD NEWS AT LUCERNE. , the contending interpreters of the gospel of this same Christ met here in coulcil, and talked out years of learned dissension in the shadow of the red sandstone towers of its Munster, built to dignify his worship. Hunted from his cradle to his cross, but always bold, denouncing, uttering, the savages beneath these moun- tain spurs had accepted his gospel, and hence the swift Rhine had borne it to the sea. "A truth," said Mr. Oates, "a bold, revolutionary truth is always good stock. It will keep, as merchan- dise at large won't. It is like certain kinds of cheese; the older it gets, and the more worms get into it, the more valuable it becomes. I had rather take the job of getting off one good, round, sound article, than of disposing of the best imitation in Christendom at double the profit." The most notable reminiscence in the history of Basle is the coarse, municipal quarrel it held with one of its suburbs across the river. The clock upon its church- tower made faces at its neighbor. "This," said Applegate, "reminds me of some cities in America, which can only prove their own importance by leering at their neighbors. The meanest literature is that of jealousy." In this town are the grisly paintings called the Dance of Death, commemorative of a Plague. They treat the terrible like a farce, and show the merriment of skele- tons. "Pestilence," said Applegate, "ought to be no less sublime a subject than war, or storm, or famine. Its invisible march is a splendid mystery. It breathes upon ships at mid-sea, and straightway their hulls become GOOD NEWS AT LUCERNE, 223 dead carcasses, sailing with the wind. It exhales upon great cities, and a horrible cry arises within the hour. Crime, hypocrisy, and avarice are born and die of it. It bala'ncestthe accumulating accounts of mankind, tem- pers man to his territory, and teaches the cowardly that there are more dreadful conscriptions than battle." "During the last yellow fever," said Mr. Oates, "I was on the point of making a fortunei, I bought a bar- ren island for a quarantine, and calkelated to be sutler to the detained crews and passengers. Another man got the job, and died of the epidemic among the first; that was the law of compensation." They all left for Lucerne at noon, by way of the rail- road to Olten. This is the railway centre of Switzer- land, where the irregular valleys converge by obstinate and monstrous circuitousnesses, piercing to the impreg- nable central Alp. They saw at Olten locomotives-steam up from Con- stance and Zurich, from Berne and Geneva, from all parts of the East, the West and the North, but none from Italy; in that direction rose a scarp never yet mined to steam, a wall too high for the flight of birds. Applegate felt a solemn foreboding as he drew near Lucerne, as if he were to stand presently in the sight of some grand and lofty personality. He could feel the breath of this being now, in sheets of wind that caught the train at lateral valleys; he could see man's enginery hide before it in the frequent tunnels they shot under; man's habitations, built far from the feet of this giant, were pitched upon steep plateaus, set in gorges, anld often the towns had climbed into the air and reached their church-spires over some single rock, page: 224-225[View Page 224-225] 224 GOOD NEWS AT LUCERNE. seemingly unattainable. The torrent beds were wide and --oulder-strewn where deluges had swept down them; the streams were violent, cold to the eye, and flowing every way. The grassy places amidst the rocks were of the freshest green that Applegate had seen, and sheep and goats and cattle were grazing on dizzy pastures above the house-tops. Now the strange Swiss houses, falsely called chadlets, began to be com- mon, their long eaves dropping plentiful carvings, their balconies and outside stairways many and elabo- rate, and by the changed emblems on the churches he could see that Protestantism had ceased and Catholi- cism become almost universal. At last nature grew frightfully convulsed; the railway ran between solid walls; the face of the world was tilted upward; moun- tain outlines painted with snow threw themselves across the way. It seemed that out of complete Nature they had glided upon one of her early periods when fire burned at her surface and only her granite structure was exhibited, bare and cracked and upheaved. Dark- ness fell upon this stern scenery as they glided into Lucerne and felt the icy breath of the Lake of the Four Cantons. Applegate looked up, and saw sailing under the stars the mantle of the Rhigi, draperies of black cloud, jagged-edged. He said to himself: - t' There will be storm to-morrow!" It'was now the month of November, very late to cross the Alps, though mails are sent across them all the win- ter, but- the air in the town was of such freezing chilliness that all but Applegate sat round the fire in the Hotel Cheval Blanc. He sallied out to hire a cabriolet for the passage of the Saint Gothard. The streets were dark and 'GOOD NEWS AT LUCERNE. 225 winding, very narrow, and the people spoke in hard, guttural dialects, and were cold-nosed and forbidding. There is a sturdy mountaineer independence in Switz- erland, which is not the best soil in which to sow the graces. Applegate passed under some quaintly covered bridges, by remnants of old feudal wall with turrets and square towers, and at last he reached the lake-side, where a little, lithe, spider-like steamer lay smoking at the dock, already taking aboard freight and baggage. He secured places for Fluelen and thence a cabriolet to carry them all to Bellinmona. But he was directed to apply at the post-office for baggage tickets, and to his great wonder found that the Swiss postal system included the forwarding of trunks and carpet-bags. The bag- gage was therefore despatched to Milan direct. As Applegate was returning to the Cheval Blanc a gust of icy wind swept round one of the tall walled angles, and filled his face with hail. In a moment there fell a thunder-clap that well nigh deafened him. As if into the gulf made by this thunder, a torrent of rain poured. These things occurring almost simultaneously whirled Applegate's brain with his body; he did not know the direction he had taken, nor that from which 'he had come. Espying a light at a drinking-house near by, he hastened there for shelter, and when he had opened the door found himself in the presence of two or three score of wild heterogeneous physiognomies, stolidly bending over beer-glasses, or riotously quaffing alcohol to the sound of a gruff French song roared by a figure with matted hairs, whose intense eyes of mid- night black glowed with a grisly merriment. It stood in the middle of the place, and its- left hand rested page: 226-227[View Page 226-227] 226 GOOD NEWS AT LUCERNE. upon a machinle for grinding knives and scissors, while in its right was held aloft a wine-glass. Between the stanzas this man drew a knife from his breast and ground it sharp upon his machine,-the cold, gritty rasp l of the stone and steel sounding shrilly above the cheers of the bystanders. Applegate recognized again the grim old Gaul, who had been his vis-a-vis in the ship's steer- age. His song was in a French patois, and the boy made a mental translation of it, as follows:- [ SONG OF THE KNIFE-SHARPENER. Two folks condemned three days had lain High in a turret by the Seine, - A holy Priest, a Courtier vain; And watching ever stream and barge, The one his doleful breviere Pressed to his lips in solemn prayer; A deck of cards the other's care To while him in the Concierge. So fa-la-la! with rasp and sheen, The grim knife-grinder, - ha! ha! ha! - Goes round the world with his guillotine, And sings and sharpens, fa-la-la! "Vain man!" the Priest in sorrow saith, "These painted snares consume thy breath; They cannot take the sting from death; Forswear them, on thy soul I charge!"? "They people this old jail with glee;. Versailles comes'back in dreams to me; Kings, Queens, and Suites restored I see, And I forget the Concierge I So fa-la-la! etc. "One game alone I crave to show; Play but one hour and you shall go!" - "You then will pray? It shall be so! The Saints to me be sword and targe!" GOOD NEWS AT LUCERNE. 227 The holy man was apt to learn; Saint Jacques' true chimes struck strong and stern; 'Tis past the hour! He will not turn; He gambles in the Concierge I So fa-la-la! etc. Night fell, and every starry beam Made golden pathways on the stream; Their dungeon lamp made ghastly gleam; They did not heed the sentry's charge; The cart rolled up to take them thence; The game absorbed each soul and sense; No eye turned up in penitence, - They left behind the Concierge I So fa-la-la! etc. A coffin laid beneath them hid; The cards dropped ever on the lid; The populaces roared and chid Folks so absorbed on charnel marge; Men, dogs, and babies hither flock, Besiege the Louvre and Saint Roch; The Priest became a laughing-stock 'Twixt guillotine and Concierge. So fa-la-la! etc. They bound them to the bloody board; The tutor cried, his end ignored, "How much, Confessor, have you scored? Your breviere will tell the charge!!" Down came the axe in thunder hurled; The twain beneath the cross-beam curled; We finish in the-other world!" The last cry of the Concierge. So fa-la-la! with rasp and sheen, The grim knife-grinder, ha! ha!-hat Goes round the world with his guillotine, And sings and sharpens! fa-la-la! This song seemed appropriate to the motley com- page: 228-229[View Page 228-229] 228 . GOOD NEWS AT LUCERNE. pany assembled in the shop, and while the knife-grind- er sang it with an alternately shrill and profound voice the rain was raving at the roof and windows. "Come, partner!" cried the Frenchman, when he had done, "we must drink deep to-night, for the Alps are before us, and we are not young as we were. It is fifty years since I first passed them, comrade, and then I wore the cap of the Grenadier on my way to Maren- go. Nom de chien! but I was tough then. To-mor- row, I fear, we shall have storm, and need all our rags to warm us!" The people laughed, for he was clothed all over in patches and parts of garments. He looked scarecrow enough to drive all the birds from the mountains. The man whom he addressed was almost as wretchedly clad, being wrapped nearly to the knees in a faded robe, once brightly spotted like a leopard-skin. There was a stature and a dignity about him, however, which gave him so much the advantage of his companion, that when he raised his glass and said, gravely, "Gentlemen, to you all!" they -all lifted their draulghts silently, and bowed while they drank with a stilled respect. Again had his- mysterious co-traveller, the pursuer of Holt, crossed Applegate's path. With pity and sympathy, the boy saw marks of hunger and in- temperance upon his high forehead, and wild'relent- lessness in his failing eye. Some one was bold enough to say: , "Will the gentleman sing? Of what nation is he?" "American I " cried the knife-grinder., "Let us hear him sing the Star Spangled Banner I " cried one. GOOD NEWS AT LUCERNE. 229 The man shook his head sadly. "I am English," he said, "but I cannot sing. Years ago I had a fair voice. It came from my heart; I sang all day; my voice died with my heart; but I can drink. I pledge you, gentlemen, again. To those who can sing!" The storm had stilled now, and Applegate sallied out, after an inquiry as to his way. In a few moments he was at his hotel. Mrs. Oates asked him waspishy how long they were to freeze in this miserable iceberg of a Switzerland; but the Contractor put into his hand a letter. "It came from my banker, young Shrink," he said. "I hope it gives you good news." Applegate broke the envelope with a quick thrill. It was from his sister. A newspaper slip dropped from it, and a banker's draft for five pounds sterling. The slip was one of Applegate's letters that he had written to his sister upon the field of Waterloo. It was thus introduced by the Editor who had. printed it: - "We have been favored with the following brilliant description of the most historic of modern battle-fields by a young lady of this city whose kinsman, now travelling for pleasure in the Old World, wrote it to her. The writer, Mr. Applegate Shrink, should select larger audiences when he has descriptive matter as good as this to communicate. Our readers join with us in ex- pecting to hear from him again." The letter from Applegate's sister said:- "DEAR BROTHER: That you still live and hope is life and hope to me. That you are not forgotten here page: 230-231[View Page 230-231] 230 GOOD NEWS AT LUCERNE. let these enclosures prove to you. I sent your relation of Waterloo to an editor, whose acquaintance I have made through my affianced; and he not only praised it much, but, hearing that you were poor, gave me the twenty-five gold dollars represented by this draft, to pay for another letter. Our uncle is very sick. One night, in his delirium, I heard him reproach himself with his uncharity to you. But when he knew that your talent had obtained you this draft, he seemed re- lieved, and comforted himself with the opinion that had he sent you money you would not have worked for yourself. The day of my wedding, brother, is ar- ranged; unless our uncle's sickness prevents, my hus- band and myself will join you in Europe by the time of Christmas. i Therefore be of good heart. Great love to you and all my faith, poor, saved, sanguine Applegate. C YOUR SISTER." Applegate read this letter aloud at Bolivar's wish. Good for you, young genius of liberty!" cried Mr. Oates. "I took an inventory of you on the ship, and saw grit that only required a little hard-rubbing to make it scratch. Give me your hand! Now, write all you like, but make a contract. An Editor is a very important man when you want a government job, but my experience with 'em is that you had better get their promises in black and white." "Pshaw!" said Mrs. Oates ; "these editors and writ- ers don't amount to much. I never see them in so- ciety, I think they're shoddy people." GOOD NEWS AT LUCERNE. 231 "Pop and me are shoddy," cried Bolivar; "we're contractors!" "The Smiths of Tuckapuck," said' Mrs. Oates, "never had a contractor nor an editor amongst thqm. They were landholders." "Yes," said Bolivar; "they sold us sweet potatoes, and they couldn't either read or cipher." "I don't know any editors," said Applegate, " though I have written to them. I thought that in our country they were among the most influential. However that may be, they certainly hold the most responsible posi- tions given to common men. Theirs is a rank too high for me -to aspire to; I am glad to only write." "I have heard them called penny-a-liners, Jenkinses, anonymous scribblers and venal libellers," said Mrs. Oates;-" indeed 'they call each other so. It's my delib- erate opinion that they are shoddy." Here Mrs. Oates drank part of a tumbler of whiskey and water, and directly fell asleep, and snored vio- lently. "Go it, Applegate!" said Mr. Oates. "I've called editors all those names; but, it was when they stood between me and the public purse." "What will you do with your money, Applegate?" said Bolivar. "Pop will buy that draft from you." "I shall send it to Gretchen, unbroken," said Apple- gate; " love is a banker that never defaults." He fell asleep that night with Heaven's goodness in his heart as he had her grandeur all round about his head. 'when he awoke and looked from his window he saw through the dawn Mount Rhigi. page: 232-233[View Page 232-233] 232 SAILTNG IrNTO THE AILPS. CHAPTER XXIT. SATTING INTO THE ALPS. AT five o'clock they were all on board the little, spider-like steamer. It was deathly cold. While the Oateses took coffee in the cabin, Applegate wrapped himself up warmly and went on deck. The dark lake of the Four Cantons stretched far and narrow down the bases of the peaks; there were clouds around the Rhigi that loomed up almost vertically five thousand feet, and ahead stood Mt. Pilatus like a hunched demon. The far main spire of the mountains was lost in mist;- the steamer rolled upon the lake,--eight hun- dred feet of depth of dark-green water,-like a bark at sea, and they seemed to be heading into the very jaws of Erebus. As they steamed along under the cloudy daybreak, all lofty nature around them wore a mon- strous countenance, as of pain and danger. As these interlocking, confused ridges, peaks, and spires closed round our hero, he felt the impression of the Alps dimly and staggeringly like something near and incomprehensible. Then he made a strong mental effort to withdraw his mind afar, and see the Alps as if he were in some rain-drop world, falling toward them, and developing out of their chaos the harmony of their panorama. SAILING INTO THE ALPS. 233 This was the Alps, then, - a mass of granite and ice reaching five hundred and fifty miles, like a great semi- amphitheatre, from the Mediterranean to Turkey. It enclosed the warm land of Italy like a fortress, -to the north, bleak, and misty and abrupt; to the south ruddy even to its summits,- as if the eternal snows were lighted by a smile. On the side of the fortress you heard only the thunderous guns of the avalanche, and saw the glaciers gleam cold like bayonets; on the side of the amphitheatre it looked like the fires of camps, the blaze of bivouacs, the sound of soldiers' songs. And not unreal was this similitude, for winding over this grand arch of mountain the conquerors of the middle world have defiled: Hannibal, with his tawny elephants, Charlemagne, with his mailed barbarians, Bonaparte, with his agile Jacobins. Along the fortress line rise bastion towers. That grand one in the angle against France is Mont Blanc. A group of strong redoubts curtain it and flank it, - the mightiest Alps; thence down to the sea the maritime mountains glide, high and abutting; thence also eastward, peak upon peak, with narrow sally-port passes between, the Lepontine and Rhetian Alps arch the head of the Adriatic, so that nature has girt Italy with one vast line of fortresses, as if aware of the armies that should seek to overrun her. Alas! for all the care of Mother Earth: her golden nooks no mountains can protect. Poverty alone is unconquerable. "This sweet land of Italy,"' said Applegate, "whose name alone is like the taste of fruit upon my lips, has in- vited rapine by the very obstacles to its possession. The barbarians seemed to-feel that what was so well page: 234-235[View Page 234-235] 234 SAILING INTO 'THE ALPS, defended would repay all danger. The routes of inva- sion are now the roads of trade, and still dear Italy is not her own. That serpent -alliance she has known a thousand years binds yet in its strangling embraces the clusters of her grapes. Only art, and song, and sky, and everlasting hopefulness are hers; the rest is France." Then Applegate, to rid his mind of all mere minor verbiage, gave the great arch of Alps three names. From the Mediterranean Sea to Mt. Blanc he called them Mediterranean Alps. Thence across Switzerland eastward he named them Swiss Alps. The rest, encom- passing the head of the Gulf of Venice, he called the Adriatic Alps. Then said he, "How do they measure with the moun- tains of my country? First, with the Alleghanies. Well, the great trunk of the Alleghany reaches two hundred and fifty miles longer than the Alps; but the highest hills in it are hardly a third the height of the peaks of the Alps. The White Mountains altogether are not so big as the bastion of the Alps in the angle of France; for MAt. Washington piled upon itself three times would be little higher than Mt. Blanc. The Rocky Mountains is altogether a grander range, and Pike's Peak is about the same size with the highest Alp; while Russian America has one mountain, St. Elias, as high as the Alps with the White Mountains built on the top of them. Altogether, however, the Alps is the most wonderful range of peaks in the world. A noble equality extends throughout them. They rise as high as the perception and comprehension of man dare fol- low them. Their human history passes that of all other SAILING INTO THE ALPS. 235 ranges. Every pass has a thrilling antiquity in the ebb and flow of mankind. Under their shadows all great developments, save Christianity, began, and here it en- throned itself first and purified itself afterward. Pow- der and Printing, and the Science of Music and the Mariner's Compass, and the Reformation and the Mo- tion of the Earth, first echoed under these sentry-hills of the middle world, and beneath them grew to man- hood he who spread a sail that never furled till it reached the calms of the Western Continent." Keeping for a while in his thought this bow of moun- tains, often assailed by Italy's relentless enemies, and bending to their irreverent force, yet down whose slopes in turn all humanizing rills flowed through the North- ern plains, Applegate felt that, after all privations, it was a sacred privilege to stand thus close to the ribs of Civilization and feel the beating of her great heart. Be- hind that wall, Peter and Paul had come from the land of Christ, and preached like commeon men in the fields and streets. When over His birthplace the Infidel held haughty tyranny, these Alps had heard the call to the crusades, and the Christian faith had made its valleys castellated, and raised such holy masonries against these peaks that in themselves they were a faith, -a shrine for art's worship, if no more. To other lands genius had passed in exile, or to proselytize; here was its home, where life involved high thought, and every feeling was an inspiration and every act was art or eloquence. Therefore said Applegate to Bolivar, who had come on deck, "I am very happy when I look upon those moun- tain outlines. It seems as much for me to have come page: 236-237[View Page 236-237] 236 SATITNG INTO THE ALPS. here as for the great men those peaks monumentalize to have achieved their victories." Yes," said Bolivar, with a face, o'er-flushed,- "victories! they are the things to live for. I mean to come here when I get big, and beat, this Emperor you tell about, - Napoleon! But he aint the big Napoleon, - the very big one!" "No," said Applegate; " they call the present ruler sometimes Naiapoleon le Petit. " t' Applegate," said Bolivar, "why aint there now and then a conqueror that will give all he captures to the people? These you tell me of have all been robbing poor folks. Are there ally soldiers of the people at all?" "There is one. One only since Washington, I think," answered Applegate. "It is Garibaldi." "I shall join his army!" cried Bolivar. "I have heard of him." While they were" thus speaking, the black waves of the lake changed to a deep-green hue, for they were passing under the rich, undulating fields that make the terraces of Mount Pilatus. A castle looked down from one of these, and the strengthening light touched also the forests on the face of Rhigi, and showed at its base the nestling fields and cottages. At Weggis, the few passengers who cared to climb the Rhigi so late disem- barked, and these were nearly all English women, dressed most generally in black straw bonnets, black shawls, and straight black walking-frocks, with heavy shoes on ample feet. As these reached the wharf it was amusing- to see guides, asses, mules, beggars and, tavern-runners swarm about them. p, SAILING INTO THE ALPS. 237 "Switzerland," said Mr. Oates, " cannot do without the Englishman. He is a part of the scenery, as much as the goats wl hm he resembles. Whenever a shep- herd blows his horn on the mountains, he gets an echo in an Englishman blowing his nose. Their guide-books put a bit of red in every vista. In midsummer they make the scenery of the Alps look like an American autumn." Now they passed between the promontories of the Noses, and were fairly midway of the noblest lake in mountain sceneries that the world has to produce. Lucerne is in shape like a kneeling cross; the part that kneels is the Bay of Uri. Before they sailed into this historic haven they stopped at many villages, generally built of stone or plaster, cold-looking, with rude paintings of religious or patriotic incidents upon the outer walls of the houses, and always a crucifix in the public place. There are, out of Switzerland's two and a half millions of people, one million Catho- lics. As they were steaming into Beckenried, a paltry town, Apple^gate, from one of the cabin windows, looked up by accident, and saw a mirage that made him mo- tionless. He feared it would fade away if he should stir. Sailing along in the very zenith, a mile almost above the rugged world he traversed, a second world softer and more beautiful than he had ever dreamed of, went past him. It seemed at first a great dove, with milk-white plumage tinted here and there. Again and again he shut his eyes and opened them, to see if it were gone. No! ruddier, clearer, softer, it grew each instant. It was snow upon a mountain touched with the first sunlight. Such snow he had never seen at page: 238-239[View Page 238-239] 238 SAILING INTO THE -ALPS. home, whether cold gray, or ghostly in the light of burning woods; but lifted here into the strong presence of the arising sun, it took his kisses with so modest blushing, that gray nature beneath, yet dull in the mists of dawn, sent up her vapory hands from the gulfs of the lake and melted them in the snow. Green firs stood in these fields of pink, most beautiful by contrast, and dark chalets and cottages were perched among them, while patches of coolest pasture seemed let down from heaven, where the Good Shepherd kept his holy lambs. It was all fleecy silence, save when an Alpine bugle gave hail, and as it provoked echoes from the rolling folds of cloud, to every echo a new peak was born, pastured in snows alike, and unfolding chalets and cat- tle, and at last the forms of milkmaids and herdsmen. Then morning bugles followed the sunrise, as it skipped from hill to hill like a silver foot, and light and music m. ade all the lofty landscape populous. The sides of the cliffs also developed, as the morning stepped down their jagged steps, and they heard the bells in valley chapels call to morning mass. The mountain outlines now unfolded, and the grand central ridge was seen like a spiral line across the sky, with Saint Gothard in front, almost impalpable, and to the right the Jung- frau, or Virgin Mountain, lost in distance. Looking back, the lake grew clearer, and the great broken maountain of RossberCg showed its chasm, which had swallowed Lup more than four hundred. people; the tall, bald Mitres also towered across the strait, and opposite the steamer Applegate saw the town of Gersau, clinging half way up the mountain; for four hundred years its fifteen hundred airy denizens made an inde- 'SAILING JINTO THE ALPS. '239 pendent State, the smallest in Europe. Soon after- ward the Bay of Uri narrowed around them. The mountain ledge of Grutli was seen above, where the three Swiss brethren swore the independence of Hel- vetia, and down on the brink of the lake a little white chapel, strancrely illustrated with- paintings, marked the spot where William Tell leaped ashore from Gesler's boat, and drove an arrow to the tyrant's heart. "O Bolivar!" cried Applegate, "this is the Mount Vernon, the Hudson River of Switzerland. Here Tell lived and died,--the Washingtol of the Alps. This is the lake we read of when we were babies!" "Tell was the feller that shot an apple off his son's head, wasn't he, Applegate? Which would you rather do, - shoot the arrow, or hold the apple?" "They say Tell was a myth," said Mrs. Oates. "I always thought so. It always seemed to me a cock- and-bull story." "He isn't much of a myth now," said Mr. Oates; "the man that made him couldn't destroy him. A good lie, with genius in it, is always stroncger than a crawling, discouragingl truth. That fellow that never was, will shoot his arrow for all the boys, and men too, that ever will be. One man migrht have made the specifications; but all humanity swears by the house." "I believe the story of William Tell," cried Apple- gate ; "it is too simple and touchinrg for any mere con- tri-er to have wished to circulate it. There is fatherly nerve and the faith of brave childhood bound in it together to the love of country. It has a mountain air around it; it malkes men better. And Tell died, they say, to save a child from drowning. 'That story binds page: 240-241[View Page 240-241] 240 - SATT NG INTO THE ALPS. Switzerland stronger than her mountain chain, and makes her a republic among the tyrannies of Europe." They all looked with interest at the almost vertical sides of the Bay of Uri, lying now in a dead calm of morning, but subject to such storms as make it rougher than the ocean, and when they glided into the pier of Fluelen their cabriolet was waiting. A short ride along the valley of the foamy Reuss brought them to breakfast in the town of Altorf. Mrs. Oates said, over her glass, of warm wine, that Switzerland was a blot upon Europe. "The people are boors; the men have no manners, and the women no style. As to their Republicanism, bosh! I don't know any Kinul that would come here to rule them. If it were not for this pesky country we could go easily to Italy. How far is it, young man?"- "Seventy miles." "How long was that ice-hou'se of a lake we crossed?" "Twenty-four "- "Merciful fathers! must we ride all that way? I declare, Mr. Oates, I shall die for some good society. Fetch my smelling-bottle! No! order me some hot wine! Ah! here's breakfast!" "Mar," cried Bolivar, "I want a turnip." "Turnip! What in the world is a turnip? Did yol ever hear such a child?" "A turnip," said Bolivar, slyly, "is a wegatable that you used to eat raw when Pop said meat was too dear." He dodged oat of the way of Mrs. Oates's hand, and SAILING INTO THE ALPS. 241 directly was involved in fierce difficulty with some young Switzers on the street. The market-place of Altorf was a widening of the high road just before the hotel, where a quaintly built fountain spouted cold glacier water, and here had Albert stood, with the apple upon his head, motionless before his father's sharp arrow. At a short distance stood the statue of Tell, leaning upon his bow-gun. It was not a difficult shot for any but a father. How very far back the spot carried one, -far into the margin of fable; yet here they showed the scene, the measured distance yea! the apple; for all the Alpine region is covered with gnarled apple-orchards, and the town of Altorf is well-nigh buried in them. The hardiest of all trees, the apple, grows as far into the sky as the home of the ibex. It is tough as the birch-tree, and blossoms in the reflection of the glacier. So is its fruit the most uni- versal. We never weary of the apple. It makes the chimney cheery with its bursting cheeks, of winter nights, and is the schoolboy's solace as he maunches it stealthily beneath his desk. It has a tempered sweet- ness, never cloying on the taste, and its juices are like mother's milk. It ranks with the dog and the horse, a friend to man, capable of clinging where he can live, and wherever we see it growing we look for a hearth- smoke or a grave. It is not short-lived, like most of our surroundings, but, rooted to the foundations of its master's house, it seems to die only with the crumbling of the walls, the falling of the roof-tree. The roof-tree and the apple-tree, indeed, are one. ' What a fund of information it would take," thought Applegate, "to paint the scene of Gesler riding into " a ', page: 242-243[View Page 242-243] town, the Swiss sullenly bending to his hat upon the pole! what knowledge of costume, military and civic! what type of race, of harness, of arms! Here comes an old woman with the goitre, staggering under a fun- niel-haped basket strapped to her back; she carries a Statff ; three goitred children follow her; their noses are biue; they are all brown-haired; here is a muleteer with ingl'mg bells; down the mountain I see a diligence com- ing, and hear the horn of the guard; postilions and po- nies are round the fountain; a drove of cattle is ap- preaching- on the road from Italy; all the houses look like winter; the -signs are 'William Tell,' 'King of Italy,' 'Four Cantons;9' cliffs overhang the town; the Reuss flows through tilted pasture-fields and under apple- orchards; Nature leans upward with a sense of fear; it is growing cold and cloudy: this is Altorf! Perhaps it has not increased one house these three hundred i years.. The hotel proprietor here called Applegate, and told him that there had been a heavy snow at the top of the pass, and that tr vel was temporarily suspended. He advised that they should wait to hear further. Mrs. Oates declared that this was a collusion between Alpple- gate and the landlord to make them stay at the hotel. "I shall go on," she said, "if an iceberg falls upon me!" So. they proceeded, passing the town of Burglen, , where Tell was born, and crossing the torrent where he wtasdrownied. Said Mr. Oates, looking at the stony little village: - ":I haint been a particular reverent man in my time; so I guess I'll just take off my hat as I pass. That SATTING INTO THE ALPS. 243 was a big contract Mr. Tell took, to drive out the Aus- I trians. Oesler has got into Mexico since." It began to snow now; fine and fast the flakes fell; the postilion,- riding one of the four horses, wrapped his cloak closely about him, looked dissatisfiedly at the sky, and whipped the nags forward with loud cries. The cabriolet was shut up closely, and the glass windows were tight and thick; they were warmly wrapped in bison-skins, but it blew furiously. Mrs.'Oates asked Applegate what he took thenmout in such weather for. "You said you would go, my dear, if an iceberg fell on you," answered Mr. Oates. "Perhaps Nature will hold you to your contract." i page: 244-245[View Page 244-245] CHFAPTER XXV. THE AVALANCHE. X IT was impossible to go at a perpetual gallop up the heavy acclivities; yet they made good time through the rough town of Amsteg, and dashed into Wasen with the postilion almost frozen. Statements and advice dif- j fered here, the innkeepers protesting that the storm was I an unusual one, and danger lay in advancing; the postil- ions- affirming that it was a mere zephyr, with a snow- flake or two in it. So they warmed themselves with a punch of cognac, changed horses, and went on. It blew so hard as they emerged from the town that the cabrio- let trembled and swung round the curves as if it were on the point of blowing over. They could not hear the Reuss thundering down the golge at their side, nor see even the heads of the nearest horses, so deise was the snow. Suddenly the steeds stopped stock-still, and they heard the driver halloo and lash them in vain. At this instant a drift of snow struck horses and vehicle and almost buried them. Mrs. Oates burst into tears. "Gracious heavens!" she cried, "we shall be killed, buried and frozen! Titus, do something! Give me the brandy-flask. Young man (to Applegate), you seem to be accommodating; pray get out and hurry some assistance. Perhaps you can drive." t 1XHt AVATANCHE. 245 "Mar," said Bolivar, looking very courageous, don't be afeard. I'm here." The cabriolet righted itself after a violent spasm, and rolled on slowly, swaying to and fro as if in the teeth of -the wind. Objects coming down the mountain passed them like vessels in a fog, dark but formless, and thunderous sounds, as of falling peaks, loomed now and then upon the air; the curses of the postilion were rendered into shrill screams by the force of the gale; the nags stopped almost momentarily, and again lashed into motion, jerked the carriage as if to burst their har- ness. "This is an item we hardly specified in our con- tract," said Mr. Oates. "Contract eternally!" cried the ladyi, "Good Lord! say something! do something! Mr Applegate, can't you pray? We are all very wicked. Titus, give me some brandy. O me, me! stop the thingl I want to get out." "Mar," resumed Bolivar, "I'll see you through. All the big generals that went up here were snowed on, I guess." It was indeed terrific at this time; snow pierced through the cracks of the cabriolet; the wheels were deep in drifts; suddenly a darkness like night enclosed them, and a loud roar, with a wild wail in it, sounded like the voice of a multitude doomed. Mr. Oates forced open the door. The snow ceased for a brief moment. The carriage came to a rest, and all the male occupants leaped out. They were midway of a bridge, between two mon- strous precipices; a fearful cataract tumbled into a page: 246-247[View Page 246-247] 246 THE AVALANCHE. gulf just above the bridge, and the storm, blowing down the torrent, flung sheets of water across them. Below this bridge the ruin of an older bridge hung crumbling across the gulf, and both structures were no more than threads to the depth and height of the precipices. A lurid gloom, like a burning twilight, covered cataract, cliff, and torrent. The hurricane threatened to blow down both bridges and mountains. Its furious howl- ing made, with the shock of the cataract, a demoniacal diapason, "In the name of the capitol at Washington," shouted Mr. Oates, " what place is this?" "It is the Devil's Bridge," answered Applegate. TIere had the shock of armies once been added to the wrestle of nature, when the French and Russians fought across this gorge, five thousand feet above the sea; but now it was an unusual tempest, and as the cas- cade fell into the rocky pile, scarcely a drop remained there but was flung with the force of a shot across the parapet of the bridge, and every return of the wind was fiercer and stronger. "Let us go on," shouted Mr. Oates; "we shall be blown-down the torrent if we stay here." They all put their shoulders to the wheels, while the driver kicked and beat his horses, and so with difficulty passing the perilous thread, they immediately plunged into a tunnel at the other side, through which there was only a whistle of wind and but little snow. It was the -Hole of Uri; great icicles pendant from its roof dropped here and there with a crash perpetually. Hiding in the alcoves and crevices of this tunnel, many foot travellers, who had escaped the pelting of the THE AVAT ANCHE. 247 storm peeped out with pale, cold faces and wrapped their blankets tightly around them. Among these, while the carriage rested a few moments, Applegate made- out the matted locks and small, cunning eyes of the knife-grinder, shivering in his rags, with his bat- tered machine faithfully preserved at his side. Tall and high-browed, with a starved, gaunt look upon him, the figure in the leopard-skin stood near by, with the same wildly penetrating eye that had always marked him. He looked like a barbarian spectre crossing the Alps. When they opened the carriage-door Mrs. Oates was found kneeling with an empty brandy-flask before her. She gave a shriek when she observed them, and *n- dulged in a rather ungraceful fainting spell. As the carriage was about to proceed, a great drove of goats came pouring in at the other end of the tunnel, while behind them, on horseback, a party of gentle- men galloped up, and they all met in the Hole of Uri. Applegate heard among the new-comers a fresh, hearty voice, not unfamiliar to his ears, cry:- "I say now, gentleman, this is a Hole indeed, when they put us in wi with goats and footpads. Halloa!" Applegate saw a deadly terror whiten into the face of the speaker. Despite the frost upon his flowing whiskers and in his flaxen hair, the boy recognized 'the manner and the man, - Holt, his plunderer! But not upon Applefgate's face was- the other's dreadful look of fear fastened. Following Holt's eyes, the boy saw that they met the black, murderous countenance of the figure in the leopard-robe. He was rushing for- ward, a knife open in his hand, and he looked like a page: 248-249[View Page 248-249] 248 MTE AVATAANCHE. maniac Malay running a muck. A cry of gloating triumph, scarcely human, burst involuntarily from his lips. Grasping his reins in his left gauntlet, Holt steadied himnself well, and drew his horse back on his haunches. The tall man was almost at his feet, when he reached down quickly and caught his stirrup up. Applegate saw the knife flash; a keen ring as of brass crushing bone followed; horse and rider darted forward amnong the -herd of goats, became entangled, and went down i headlong. The tall figure in the leopard-robe lay but 4 a second on the ground, stretched there by the stirrup- blqw; arising, with the knife still clutched in his hand, he saw his 'adversary stumbling, unhorsed, amnong the goats, and rushed on again with the same wild beast's cry. Together and on foot they disappeared out of the tunnel. The riderless horse returned to his party, and the cabriolet moved on. It had ceased to snow with- out, as they emerged, and by the white light of the fail- ing afternoon they could see two figures receding across the snow, -one fleeing, one overtaking. At a strange, gurgling sound nearer by, Applegate turned to mark at the outlet of the tunnel the grim old Gaul, gayly whirling his wheel to the measure: "So fa-la-la! with rasp and sheen, The grim knife-grinder, ha! ha! ha! Goes round the world with his guillotine, And sings and sharpens, - fa-la-la!" The wind struck them thrice again as they passed up the gorge and reached the valley of Usuren, which lay long and narrow at the very base of the St. Gothard, between the Furca and the Ober Alp. It is the Val- THE AVALANCHE. 249 lambrosa of the Alps, - four months of the year bright green, with pasturage high enough to graze weary eagles; but after this great fall of snow it lay calm and beautiful between the peaks like a white hammock sus- pended. In the vista stood the town of Andermatt, eight months in the year wooed of the frosts. The Saint Gothard peak, rising five thousand feet above it, throws forward to the very edge of the village a top- pling abutment of vast height, whereon the avalanches gather, and threaten to overwhelm the citizens. A wedge-shaped grove of larch-trees, carefully preserved, grows up the peak-side like a green curtain, and rocks and fallen trees strengthen its edges so that the avalan- ches may be cut in twain and slide off upon the flanks of Andermatt. Deprived of this grove of larches the town must be untenable; it looked no stronger against an avalanche than a hazel-twig against the devil. When the travellers descended at the inn Drie oenige, --Mrs. Oates, taken out in a semi-trance state, yet highly flavored with liquor, and presenting an appear- ance of colossal imbecility,-they saw the people of the village anxiously looking at the white crest of the overhanging peak. "Gad!" cried an Englishman, 'we stand a chance of being well interred! There is more than enough snow yonder to put Andermatt beyond sounding depth. The rock is warm; there will be a slide, sure I " At the window of the inn Applegate and Bolivar looked down upon the villagers, standing in groups with their eyes fixed upon the peak; droves of goats were coming in as the evening horns sounded softly upon the silence, though now and then a mass of snow lazily page: 250-251[View Page 250-251] '250 THE AVALANCHE*. detached itself and thundered down against the larch. trees. One by one the motley pilgrims trudged into town, among them the knife-grinder, puffing in the shafts of his barrow with many a halt, and beating of his hands against his breast, and loud, half-laughing utterance of oaths. The road was clogged beyond; vehicles and postilions, and two huge diligences, crowd- ed with mails and passengers, circled around the door. Boys of the town found little sale for their wood-carv- ings, and the consolation of man and lad seemed to be draughts of keersch and cogniac. Descending to the tavern-room, Applegate saw the man with the leopard- skin, crouched at a table, his eyes distended, and grief and disappointment set in his many working wrinkles. The knife-grinder was pouring liquor into his glass. - Cheer up, comrade! , he cried; ,' you shall wrestle with your enemy yet. He is here; the mountains give no hospitality to such as he when they refuse it to us honest lads. Drink! I am spent, also; for I am old, friend. -Vom de 'Dieu! my rovings are almost over." "I am strong," said the other, bitterly. "I shall not die; but it is hard to be cheated so. I have looked for this fiend with my acutest cunning. The Father of Evil protects him. In the confusion of the storm h!e slipped into some nook of the village unseen. But we shall meet!" "A notre Vengeurl!" said the knife-grinder, rever- ently, shaking his glass toward the sky. "Comrade, you slay yourself with hate. Let the good God re- dress; it is ours to wander and suffer. Swallow your grog while I tell you why I wind round the world. I Wam a Lieutenant;in the uniform' of France; I had risen THE AVALNCHE. 25 from a farrier's place, like Marshal Ney. I fell in love." The grisly humor went out of his face now, and Ap- plegate saw it for the first time wear a sad, humanizing expression. : "My lady was above me, -one of those handsome, cold-faced noblesse, whom the red-caps had brought to grief. 'I saved her from starving. In the good turn my heart broke down. I threw my grenadier's bear- skin at her feet, and knelt upon it." He spilled his liquor unconsciously; a grimy tear came into his eye. "'Go!' she said; 'quit the service of Bonaparte; leave France; travel as a soldier of fortune in other lands. Journey till I send for you, and then I will say YesP!' "I returned to camp and resigned my commission.' In a month I was again in the town where my lady lived, to say to her that I should leave my country, obedient to her wish. O comrade, I was quite silly at the thought of her. There was merriment in the village when I entered it. A grand wedding had taken place. A Marshal of France had espoused one of the old noblesse. I saw her come down the aisle of the church on the arm of her groom; she raised her veil as she passed me, and laughed in my face; so did the marshal laugh. 'Dolt! impudent!'7 she said; 'journey till I send for you, and then I will say 'Yes.'" He straightened up, and his matted locks seemed to untwist. "What could I do but go? I travelled in all lands, -a soldier of the red-cap at Naples, in Spain, in New page: 252-253[View Page 252-253] 252 -' THE AVALANCHE. Spain. There was a fester in my heart; 1 loved the open air to blow upon it. When they discharged me from the service in the land of Nicaragua, a soldier of manifest destiny, I bought this trundle of mine, and sharpened steel for younger hands. Where am I going.? Perhaps to France! I journey on till Heaven says ' Yes.'h" He drank again quietly; the other had not listened at all. Applegate passed out, unobserved. They had delicious honey and mountain trout for supper, a bottle of fair wine, and their hunger at this altitude was so intense that, when they had eaten very long, Mrs. Oates felt quite cheerful, and addressed her- self to, Applegate with some awkward show of amia- bility. bi"Mr. Shrink, where are we, any way? For the Names-sakes what, is this Saint Gothard? What are these Alps doing here? When shall we set off? I want to buy dresses in Italy. I am dying for some refined association. Tuckapuck was the Garden of Paradise to this place." "Saint GotGhard," said Applegate, "is not the highest, but one of the most remarkable mountains in Europe. As a pass it is the most variedly picturesque. From its base trickle off the greatrivers of Europe. The Rhone, the Rhine, and the Ticing have their sources here. The Mediterranean, the Adriatic, and the North Seas get tributaries from this snow-storm. This mountain, on whose side we are, is the chief of a grand Alpine group, enfolding thirty lakes, eight gla- iers; and seventeen valleys. Itself attaining a height of nearly eleven thousand feet, the pass beyond us is THE AVALANCHE. 253 five hundred feet higher than the top of Mt. Washing- ton." "This road," said Mr. Oates, "is even more of a work than our Chickahominy bridges. Andermatt ought to supply ice-cream cheap. If they would drive one of these herds of milch cattle into a glacier, and spill an avalanche of white sugar on 'em, they might run rivers of ice-cream to all parts of the conti- nent. On consideration," said Mr. Oates, "this sug- gestion is a little theoretical. I only give it to show the activity of my mind." Dusk had now descended, and the hotel was over- crowded. Loud, bacchanal noises could be heard below stairs. After a while a flame from the street lit up the windows; they had made a fire of boughs and dried firs, and it gave a red, fitful glaze to the faces of the people grouped around, still lookilna up the mountain anxiously, down whose face .great bulks of snow crashed ever and anon. The tall, pyramidal summits caught the fire upon them, and seemed ablaze. They rose like broken mirrors, flinging down the shadows of flitting clouds, and up among the larch-trees there were shapes of men at work strengthening the barri- cades. Hard by the fire the knife-grinder stood, sharpeninagpenknives, razors, and swords, loudly singing and shouting the while ; for he was very drunkl. His eyes wore the old, uncleanly cunning; his blue-black hairs were tangled; he stood bareheaded, enveloped in his rags, and it almost seemed that he was some wizard, dragged to the stake with his unholy instruments. "Come! citizens of Andermatt," he cried, "illustri- ous strangers, assemble! I dinted my sword upon your page: 254-255[View Page 254-255] 254 THE AVALANC,. mountains fifty years ago. Help the-old grenadier! Come with your sheath-knives and your butchering- blades, your scissors anld-your axes. I would leave nothing dull behind me, blades or brains." He gave a stave of an old song, and cried again;:- "Have you broad-axes or pole-axes, cleavers or car- vers, sabres or- rapiers? The old soldier would make all your cutlery glisten ere he goes, for his legs are feeble, and he may never-return. Yes, citizens, he has sharpened all his days, for the days when sharp knives will be needed. They are coming. You shall hear the Ca Ira again upon your passes. The red-caps shall file down your valleys, shaking the world as they did when these old rags were new. "For fa-la-la! with rasp and sheen, The grim knife-grinder, - ha! ha! ha! - " "Stand backl " cried a voice; "the snow on the peak moves. To your houses --fly!" They all glanced up, involuntarily, and saw the high tufts of snow upon the ruddy spires tremble and sway; in the deep, tooth-like indentations there was a move- ment as of restless water, running to and fro; isolated pillars, rocking awhile, fell forward, and made the fire- light tremble with their crash. Directly the whole fringe of the peak blew forward, and poised in the pro- found silence of a dreadful irresolution. All the people were in shelter now but the knife-grinder. He set a great two-handed sword against his grindstone, and sang softly with his foot upon the treadle. Come away!" cried a score of voices; "the ava- lanche is coming down." THE AVALANCHE. 255 Still he hummed softly, full in the light of the fagot- blaze, and a spark or two leaped up from the edge of the sword he was grinding. Low echoes groaned alone the overhanging peak; a shower of snow fell with a crackle into the fire. He only looked up with his old, idiotic grin, and raised his refrain the higher. The peak split apart, the earthquake moved up the mountains. They bent outward, cracked, burst, turned blood-red in the east leap of the blaze. The larch- grove disappeared. Thunder filled the valley. The fire went out. The inn staggered. It was dark and close and very still. ' - v page: 256-257[View Page 256-257] 256 PURSUED ACROSS THE GLACIER. CHAPTER XXV. PIURSUJ ACROSS THE GLACIER. AerL GAE found himself vis-d "-vis to Mrs. Oates hen he struggled to his feet. All the lights in the house had gone out.? articls of rno w blew through Sthe room. eop I e wer nn therou! hout the inn. He knew Mrs. Oates by the character of her breathing and the grossness of her proportions. When hetouhed Ahe s r me, gropet f o d "' Sakes alive!" she cried. Blessed martyrs and pontiffs, save1us!" mOngo the r espect able superstitions of Mrs. Oae was one that to be saved into good society it was nec- essary to adopt the religion of the, monarchs. Shehd been brought up a Baptist, but lwas oaa rigorous, advocate ofht- a nointed and consecrated supremacies. "Save us, Anghrrels and Bishops!" she repeated. 4' Re- speDthe Apostles and merciful Cardinals, forgive us! Stopthesnow Ha! who is this? ,It is I, Applegate,-- Madam " 'Dear me youlng gentleman let me a upon your shoulder; there! oh, what a turn I have took! Mr. Shrink, you've had a religious b mtrisin up a 'venotiree it. As for me, the fashionable inducements of a moro PURSUED ACROSS THE GLACIER. 257 luxurious mode of life hev cut me off fron grace. Jest you pray for me! Now do! I'll make Mr. Oates re- member it in the bill!" "Mrs. Oates," cried Applegate, "loosen me, please! I am looking for Bolivar!" "Here I atm, hoss-fly!" cried Bolivar, out of dark- ness; "a table's fell on me, but you needn't move it. I don't mind these avalanches. Suwarrow victorious!" "Applegate!" cried Mr. Oates, "there's a fellow a-top of me whose mode of saying prayers I don't alto- gether like. He wants somebody or other in perdition. He's got a steam prayer on him! I They could hear this voice in the vagueness now, whispering: - "Lord, save mine enemy from the avalanche! Hear not his prayer' that the mountains may fall and hide him from me! Deliver him unto my hand alive! Hear me, O Lord!" "Amen!" cried Mrs. Oates, who concluded from the diction of this prayer that. there must be piety in it. "Amen! and me too!" Another voice, replying to this prayer, muttered, shudderingly:- "Remorseless being! cannot even this terrible mo- ment make you forget? Take this, and this, to test your immortality!" Two blows, as of a heavy cudgel or alpenstock, fell through the air, and provoked a cry of pain from some one, indistinguishable. Then there were two forms imperfectly seen, clutched in desperate hate. Curses, groans, the cracking of sinews and teeth, filled the place. At last one figure, flung across the floors, came page: 258-259[View Page 258-259] 2ss PUESuDJ AUU^l-Lxj into violent contact with Mrs. Oates, grappled with her, and they went down together with a shriek. The other combatant glided through the wall, as it seemed, and was seen no more. "O good Satan, release me!" cried the smothered voice of Mrs. Oates. "I will be a better woman! I once jined the society in Tuckapuck; but one winter I backslid. Give me a chance! Get up off of me I Why,: man! what are you tryin' to do? Sich right- down impedence I never see! I'll hevthe lor ifthere's lor in Switzerland "' The change in the address of Mrs. Oates was owingr to the coming of a lamp, whereby she saw that her wrestler was not a Power of Darkness, but the myste- rious person wearing the spotted robe. "He has again escaped me!" cried-this man. I am wretched!" The concussion of the avalanche had broken all the windows, put out the lights, upset the furniture and the guests, and crushed: portions of the roof. Mr. Oates arose, with blood streaming down his face. A I broken alpenstock was in his hand. 'iBy these presents greeting!" he said, "I caught somebody else's lick. One of these parties contracting for mutual murder gave me the stakes to hold. Luckily I was underneath, and got only spent strokes; but one of 'em has cracked my hip and the other my head. The avalanche couldn't have done much more. In a few moments the villagers were walking over the snow upon flat snow-shoes, each man with a flaim- beau in his hand. The chimneys of the houses had disappeared; there were rents in the roofs and gables; the snow covered some tenements to their eaves, and children and women appeared upon the roofs. As far as the eye could see in the illuminated night, the valley of Usuren was one flat mass of snow, shutting all avenues to the village. The herds, the outlying build- ings for swine and kine, were buried deep in the inun- dation. Then a voice cried: "Save the knife-,rinder!" It was Mr1. Oates, forgetful of his bruises in the remembrance of another's life imperilled. The diligence" company and the road-masters sent up their gangs of men immediately. Shovels and picks and sledges moved along in the light of still torches; the solemn cliffs and spires of granite which had wrought this sorrow upreared themselves against the close constellations, though momentarily some tuft of snow dropped like a bolt of thunder. In a little while a group of delvers brought in a dark body, whose ragged covering flapped oozily. They brushed the tangled blue-black hair from his eyes, and exposed the bruised face of the old Gaul, lifeless as it seemed. They laid him before the fire upon the brick floor, and, pouring liquor down his throat, rubbed him lustily. After a long while his eyes unclosed. The grim merriment rolled into them an instant. He could speak after a time :- "Boys!" he said, feebly,- there will be no more grinding nor journeying. It took an avalanche to kill the old grenadier." His eyes fell upon his machine, also resurrected. "Ah! I ha!" he said, smiling; "you have saved my old dog. Wheel it hither, and hold me up I page: 260-261[View Page 260-261] 260 PURSUED ACROSS THE GLACIER. When they did so, he tried to thrust his hand into a pouch pendant from it. , His arm fell nerveless at his side. It was broken. Looking up, he saw the faces of Applegate and Mr. Oates, and smiled again:- "Comrades! I know you. We were shipmates. Young Corporal, and you, Veteran! I make you my exedutors. Secure this sack; there are gold pieces in it. Reach now under my remnant of cloak, at the belt There; you have touched'it!" Applegate drew forth a wallet chained round the old man's body. He opened it with a stone from the fire- place, and produced United States bonds, - the first ever seen on the Alps." "They are good,"muttered the old man, with a fail- ing look of glee; " the Republic says so! The New Re- public! New France! New Europe! I believed her, and gave her silver to buy steel! They make three thou- sand dollars. In my pouch are thirty Louis. To these, my executors, I give five Louis each to carry out my instructions. Twenty Louis I give the commune of Andermatt, for a shroud and a grave. Call a magis- trate!" They gave him to suck a rag soaked in spirits. He had enormous vitality, and though bruised internally as a doctor averred, and broken in every limb, he pre- served his old grimness without a quiver. The magis- trate came and took his deposition. "For these twenty Louis," asked the old man, "will the town give me a shroud, according to my instruc- tions, and a grave among your dead?" "It is more than enough," answered the magistrate. PURSUED ACROSS THE GLACIER. 261 t Give, then, the remainder to the poor who ask alms passing through you. I wish a grave among the chil- dren, on the side of the graveyard where they lie. Bury my trundle with me. It has been faithful thus far. Perhaps it wishes rest. Let my shroud be a red- cap. Buckle a sword upon me. Turn my face toward France. For the rest I have no care. To you, my executors, under oath before the magistrate here, re- turn these bonds to the republic of which you are citi- zens. Write that a soldier of the French revolution, finding in Europe no place where Freedom dwells, consigns to America and cancels forever this claim he purchased of her." He said no more. They all stood back reverently. After a little wrestle he wore his grim look of merri- mePt again, and, stretched like a satyr before the fire, laughed into it and died. They saw him entombeld minutely as he directed, and Mr. Oates enclosed the bonds and legacy under seal and post to the Consul at Basle. Lurking about the village next day they saw the solitary figure in the leopard-skin climbing the banks of snow, peering into the houses, ever inquiring for a fresh-faced Englishman, youthful, and of flowing flaxen hair. The people thought him crazy, and Mr. Oates threatened him with the lock-up. It was you who cut a canal in my scalp," said the contractor; "you trespassed upon my hip with a cudgel. I'll get out an injunction on you, my man!" "I beg your pardon," pleaded the other, "I meant no harm to you. To all but one I am a poor lunatic, begging bread." page: 262-263[View Page 262-263] Mr. Oates took out of his pocket five Napoleons. "Here," he said, " your dead fellow-traveller willed ' me these. I don't want 'em. As soon as it is fit to travel go on, and cudgel your enemies before I get there." , Applegate took out his own five Louis, also. "I don't like to keep them," he said. "I did nothing to earn them." "Keep them, young Shrink," replied Mr. Oates; "executors generally help themselves well. They are honestly yours, and this eccentric gentleman would only stir them into a toddy." "Keep them," said the other also; "your friend is right. Sorrow has made me a slave to drink; but you are poor, if I remember-poor and young! what happiness! You and the grinder of knives, my ac- quaintance, both are heirs of fortune. You have hope, and he has rest." "His grammar," said Mr. Oates, "is tolabul fair, but his generalizations are too broad. He'll hang on if he hangs, and I guess he'll do both." That night Applegate slept in the saloon, the cham- bers being all occupied by the pressure of guests. The many actualities of the past-, twenty-four hours brought in their wake nightmares and alarms. In one of these he -seemed to see the wall at the fireside open, and a man's figure emerge. There was a lantern in the room that gave a dim, consumptive half-light, and by this he observed that the apparition with a groan stole round the place warily, and peeped into every nook. "My God!" it said at last in a whining voice, with hands folded across its forehead, "I am almost starved. Will this persecution never cease? I have no blood. stains on my hands, and I am yet run dovwn like a dog. Oh I mercy ! mercy !"a It fell pon its klnees,; it lay u pon th e floor ing it prayed and cursed to~efiler. ~ ?ppleg atY/l silently and walked to the o side. The ghost "Ie are allque leagued together !" he stammered; iit is the spiri t of the boy I ft at Antwep to starve." "Not spirit, but flesh," answered Applegate, kinflro, I had forgiven you long ago If you cannot pay the mon~edYou robbed me of, you need not fear me. But I grieve to see even my enemy so distressed. Isthere no reparation you can m'~ke this man who tracks you by day and by nigllt ? Kneel here, sir, with me. I have said the samqe prayer always, and it has kept me from crime, from want, from idleness Itmaybee ar The stubborn knees of Hol;, the Englishman, bent to this e ntreaty. He had clasped his nds; stelthy step fell in tle r~oom; the rvenger arose before them both.. -olt saw him and rushed down the sairs. The other pursued. Appl"egat prayed, where he had knelt, for fugitive and avengr alike, Another quiet d.[y was spent at the fin , and then all parties grew impatient. Mr. Oates determined to returnto Lucerne, and take rail for Olten, Berne, Geneva, and Chaiberry, meaning to cross by the Mt. Cenis pass, wvhich is open the year round. As there was no baggage to be looked after, Applegte Obtaned permission to make a foot journey across the country and join the party at Chainberry. Boliva pleaded so page: 264-265[View Page 264-265] 264 PURSUED ACROSS THE GLACIER. earnestly to be allowed to accompany him that Mr. Oates gave his consent. They left the hotel next morning, on their contrary routes, at the same time. Applegate felt the weight of the world slip off his shoulders when he thus unbuckled his burden of de- pendence for a time. He was on foot, protected by a long, sharp-pointed alpenstock, and Bolivar rode a mule, whom a taciturn old guide led down the steep mountain-path. The snow extended but a little way west of Andermatt, and then they lost the view of the white valley of Usturen, and entered a bare and gloomy region at the foot of the Furca mountain, climbing its sides. A hamlet or two, very desolate-looking, fell behind them, and a naked loneliness and sterility suc- ceeded, with peaks towering on every side, bare and vast'. No bird, nor goat, nor creeping thing moved upon the face of nature. No horn blew down upon the cold, dumb air. The overlapping glaciers, high above, sparkled frostily over their enclosing granites. Sometimes with a grand, listless, yet deliberate motion a thousand tons of snow loosened grasp upon a peak and fell groaningly. The sun came out upon the peaks and made them glitter at last; but it was a stately, freezing light, no warmth within it. Then the Gallen- stock mountain leaped up at once in all its mighty pro- portions, eleven thousand feet into the air, and over its crevices, soldered upon its profile, lying like steel armor upon its breast, eternal fields of ice shone and dripped, with no eye to look upon them but Apple- gate's. The path swept round a broad and narrowing valleys, into which he peeped after a time; a lake of solid ice lay in it, widening upward into the mountains, fUSU ED aCROSS THE GLACna. 265 narrowing down into the outlet. Clear blue, it basked in the strong sunliht, without at footmark on it, the track of a skate, the print of an oth on it,v theull- born river gushed fromt, h Rhone, whose lacier this was, famed amon the worlds wonders Its broad, smooth, inclined plane reached u1mward to an icy preci- pice, like a fortress wal, in hich w iere fthomlePs Magazines of snow, ei ch were, T^ thomles magazines of snzowetern, lly feeding this lonely field of ice. Toward the s clear blue as a sutp e ofdhe river the ice is as clear blue suspended field of air, and solid as marble. Across this sheet of steel a crack opened, ever and anon, with a'hollow warning. Bottom less fssures, far an d zigzaa ged, reached through its less compact bosom. Tall pillars of ice, poising one pon- derous boulder, stood here and there upDon it, 'like Druid monuments. Pyramids of f pozen sand were in terspersed .with thes s of&en sa"d were in- terspersed with these; infinitely profound wells with crscent-shaped shafts were freuent. It seemed that he had alighted upon some desolate plain, once popu- lous with a giant race whose mysterious architectures left but these incomprehensible relics. Cattle, pastur- ag9e, graves, there were none. O nly a deser-ed I a bora- tory left bischmst to work everlastingl Imn the mountains. o ork ti among OfA latle t al:one uPon a great rock at the edge of thlacirn;n. The far magnificence of this spectacle gave him, an awful ens T " of ctacl gave him an awmful sensation; it was so still sometimes that his heart-throbs were audible. Here, for all the ages of mankind, this stricken panorama had moved deliberately downward, so slowly, s tately, that eye had Jaeve-detecmtn I T ^ that eye hd never d etected its motion. A hmdred peaks had pushed their snowflakes toward it; t heir combined, 12 i obnd page: 266-267[View Page 266-267] J266 PURsuED ACROSS THE GLACIER. monstrous pressure had hardened the snow to solid ice. Irresistibly urging onward, it had scooped the rocks from the mountains. Opening through its immensity an intlicate arterial system, rivalling life, had fed it with rills of water. Rivers were born in it of every sun, and expired each twilight. Icebergs in miniature, breaking from its rim, had floated away upon the Rhone as upon the ocean, and melted in the warmer latitudes. Melting, expiring every day, it was still the same in form and functions eternally. So had the face of the globe once been but Alps, and ocean, and glaciers, to which this vast lake of the Rhone is a hailstone, had moved across the world, shaking icebergs from their fringes, spilling sand and stones, crushinio all opposition, so that now, in far inland prairies, we gather the shells and skeletons of swimming things preserved in these moving ice-houses, and see in tropical lands creatures to whom warmth was death. Back toward the period when God had made no man to worship him, this silent glacier carried Applegate; and he -felt beneath the mountains as if he were under the breath of God him- self, saying out of the rolling clouds to the peaks and the gulfs:- "Let the earth bring forth the living creature!" As he thought thus, a sound of feet rang over the blue ice. Two beings were moving across the glacier, one fleeing, one pursuing. They seemed, to Apple- gate, like Cain and his brother's spectre haunting him round the early world. The pursuer was tall, gaunt, and wildly clad; the fugitive was of waving hairs. They were close upon one another. Applegate saw them with a thrill of recognition. As their shadows PURSUED ACROSS THE GLACIER. mingled upon the ice, and the silent fields of is lofty nature seemed aboou to witness a human tragedy, groan reeled across"the glacier; the ice split open ; the enemies disappeared t open When Applegate, Venturing upon the ice, had bor eahed the scene of ths occurrence, he looked into a bottomless gulf, with no trace of man visible through all its sfinvus extent. page: 268-269[View Page 268-269] A FRIEND AT CHAMBERRY' CH APTER XXVI A FRIEND AT CHAMBERRY. as t loss to lnow why Holt, a big, Strong fellar," should be ,lWaYs 'running wyfrmh other " old drunk e said atlas it's ause "I tellyou, Applegateae ' (it thinks the other one wears This opened up the ancient question everuppeot in Bolivar's mind, as to wlhether an elephlat could 'lick" a rattlesnake, and -what the possible r esults ould be if five " taggers" shotld encounter three lions and one sha travel f dI tell ye," he said, lo0inrg up the mighty dopes of the Jungfu montai, I ike to be a big general; but ainall of 'e afeared a little to f inthseco They ee ow climbing the Grimsel, and their sop of the mountain fa1cingre w, amrvgtatio egan to appear. In many nooks lichens gre; scant ptuearbo r Oed in the shadows of solid e; te snow turaged to blood-red color in some perspectives. Seeing this, Bolivar cried out that a couple of armtes ust have butchered eac othersort of -'NJol' said Applegate; it is a plat,-a sort of ' A FRIEND AT CRAMUERRY. 269 alga, --such as dyes the frog-ponds green; only this is red, and gives the snow its flushed complexion." Mounting higher, the air became so thin that sound was scarcely transmissible; an absolute calm solem- nized the upper world. To the south, the whole line of Helvetic Alps uprose embattled, stretching away into elastic horizons, and repose lay over the long land- scape of snow as if nature were dead, and in her white shroud. A storm arose while they were looking back upon the cool Rhone glacier. The air around them was a frozen cloud, where still no snowflakes formed, so dry was the atmosphere; but the vesicles were like the dusk of rainbows showering around them, while far below they saw the same cloud discharging rain upon the deep valleys. "I do not wonder," said Applegate, "that natural philosophy, geology, - indeed, all the sciences, - have learned so much from the Alps. They are like a tall observatory, raised five miles out of the world, that we may look down upon her silent and secluded processes." By evening they came to the town of Brienz, and discharged guide and mule. A quarrel ensued, of course, with the old conductor; for the Swiss guides are uniformly dishonest. That night they had a rare view of an illuminated cataract, - the falls of Giesbach. Two mountain lakes tumbled through a wild gorge by successive skeins of high, suspended foam, and the torches showed the whole immense height of the four- , teen cascades, dropping through dark pine forests. It seemed a burning water,-a spark for every spray- drop, a flame for every stream, as if a volcano had oozed over a cliff, and the red-hot lava, having burnt a page: 270-271[View Page 270-271] 270 A FRtBLuJ aI D a^ channel through. the fir-trees, continued to trickleM forever into a gulf, thence coolinga darkly and raltging away witoha roar. Next dayB , light early, they were at Interlacent, famous for its cheap boarding-houses, where the English woman lives enthroned, looking at vheryephilosophically. It r out the ontrl k nature yearningly, and gossiping about he gentry. The second nighlt saw them ill Berne, standing upon . the high platform of the cathedral terrace with the Alps id before them like a picture. Down the broad, regular [i summerlong. Bears were towns-folks, a nd dwelt in the public square. The people had a hardy look of conscious independence. These bears of Berne pro- voked Bolivar to set a dog upon them, that the superi- ority of the canine species might be made manifest. The dog made a good fight till a stroke from an old she-Bruin laid open his skull, and then Bolivar and Applegate were walked off to a magistrate and fined. What a difference the possession of money, or the watl of it, makes in our feelings! Being provided i with funds, Applegate was saved from a jail, and he took the matter of his, hearing before the magistrate very philosophically. It required some olltrol to keep Bolivar quiet. ';Applegate," said he, "does this perliceman know we are Americanls?" v yes. I told him so!" ' Aint he afeared?" "I think not!" "Perhaps he don't know we are American eri cans, -United Staters!" A FRIEND AT CHAMMERRY. 271 "Yes! he does!" "Applegate," said Bolivar, after a pause; "he is a very bold man." "They don't know any more about our country, Bol- ivar, than we did of theirs before wea came to it. Nor do foreigners at large care or fear for us. We are having our influence upon all nations, but not upon their fears. America is still a new world, not half the age of many of these houses we see. It is more formidable as a land of freedom than as an armed power." "Oh!" cried Bolivar, " is that all? I thought they might be afeard we would come over and lick 'em." Next day they sped by battlemented Freyburg and the town of Lausanne, where Gibbon, the majestic his- torian, lived and wrote. His history is the best literary exemplification of English learning, -ponderous, ma- terial, sonorous, rational, without a real sentiment throughout it, with no by-play, - the reflections of an inquisitive bull as he crops the grass on the ruins of Rome! He tossed his critics like a splendid buffalo, and died impregnable in horns and hide, grazing reflectively to the last. Geneva! still city of creeds and refuge. Rest of Vol- taire, birthplace of Rousseau, home of Calvin! Here hid to sing dear Beraniger, the best lyrist of the Chris- tian era, whose songs, if there were no men, would walk and sing of themselves, so human are they. De Stael sought shelter here, least feminine of women in her books, most in her life. But Calvin and Rousseau are the powerful associations of this lake city. The one was the Pope Hildebrand of Protestantism. He kept a steady fire where Luther but made a blaze, and burned page: 272-273[View Page 272-273] a companion in it, and said God had prepared it for his eternally condemned millions. Rousseau was the elegant Luther of the modern polit- ical reformation. He wrote the prophecies of Jeremiah in the periods of Solomon and David. All youth heard him and felt a brave unrest. He dropped tears at the palace door, and the palace was undermined. He sen- timentalized upon powder grains, and laid the trails in his seemingly vagarious career that, when somebody in l an after generation said a hot word, flashed up and lit the magazine. He was the first man in Europe who recognized no past. In a conventional age he said there was only a past and future. With his hand upon the coming time, shaking it to convulsion, he roamed in his age with a shrinking step, a dependent and a haunted existence, knowing not where to lay his head. Applegate visited the shrines of all these great ones, and walked to Ferney, where vain Voltaire had dwelt i who sneered thrones from their pedestals, and slew dynasties ;with a bon mnot. He unsettled all reverences as Rousseau raised new gods. Together they were the mightiest men in literature, ancient or modern. Amer ican republicanism was largely born of thetn. They sat behind Jefferson when he wrote the Declaration, and were invisible members of the Convention that argued the United States Constitution. Terrible, unlike be- ings Who shall study them, and say that as for man his days are as grass? They saw in far distance the three summitg of Mont Blanc as they rode to Chamberry, where Mrs. Oates was found in close confidentiality with a Savoyard baron, and Mr. Oates figuring the probable cost of the chateau. A--ss 27 d Chamberry is a lost city, the home of the house of Savoy, brutal and thick-skulled feudal despots, whom we can trace far enough into the dark ages to learn the worthlessness of the oldest titles. They rode hence to battle down the long valleys of the Alps, or crossed the horseback passes, too riotously indolent to hew a road, and they split the brains of boors and of priests and of their rivals, alternately with their own. Listless hunt- ers of the boar and the deer were they, sallow falco- ners, who played with a bird or a mistress in bruised intervals, careless of both, and drank and gorged and quarrelled till death came in at the joust, or after the debauch, and then they clenched a string of beads, scarce able to read, and died in gTovelling, superstitious fear or dull contentedness. The highest of them were fighters merely, like Prince Eugene and the Sixth Amadeus; one only, and he a collateral descendant, stands in the softened light of weak but undeserved misfortune: Carlo Alberto, the author of the saying that all the minutes we are living proves true; Italia ard ca se. He listened to the voice of imperious rev- olution, and made two brave endeavors to be indepen- dent, if not to be free. They gave him regret as to one martyred. His son lives now and reigns over a gallant realm, himself little purer, wiser, or truer to freedom than all his race, though the sword of the peo- pie has raised him from KinLv of Sardinia to Wing of Italy. Here in Chamberry the dark and animal age of the Dulkes of Savoy had left its mark in a grimy chat- eau, with grated windows, old feudal ordnance and ar- mor; a brood of dark-skinned people crouched at the ?.^:;^-KS??." S^ * page: 274-275[View Page 274-275] chateau's base, and over all the spurs of the Alps throw- ing their swarthy shadows. But they were cutting the lions and cioss of Savoy from the castle windows, and carving in their stead, upon a ground of ermine and golden bees, a smart letter "N." The nephew of Napoleon has just bought the birthright of the house of Savoy for the price of two indecisive battles, and was cutting his name upon his j purchase, like a vain boy. "Oh, childishness of Kings " said Applegate, as he walked in the beautiful gardens of the chateau. "I have seen enough of Europe to be weary of their whittling. The monuments of these bullies surfeit me! Their old armor and their guard-rooms, their banquet-halls and tournament yards, their history of swilling and sedu- cing the obsequiousness of their people and their quar- rels with as greedy monks, make Europe a monumental fraud." A party coming toward him, down the long aisle of clipped maroon trees, first attracted Applegate, and then thrilled him. He knew them to be Americans at first., There was a square-cut, white-bearded, martial old man, with his right arm a dangling blue sleeve merely; a tall, stiff,-common soldier, in blue cavalry-jackoet trimmed with yellow; a negro-lad, wearing a ludicrous look of ease, with a gap of broad grin breakinc through f it unguardedly now and then; and a beautiful young lady, all grace and self-possession, who bore the admir- ing looks of strangers with an accustomed quietness, yet with spirit and state that made them turn again when she had passed. But the last one of this party caught the eye of Ap-e ..... ...AaJ.1rAB o -,r 275B plegate: a florid face, full of Saxon ripeness, set with tender eyes of blue, and very patiently sweet. When it had looked upon him, so transfixed, it met him half way with a modest kiss, saying: - "Dear friend. I am happyy! He could answer only:- "Dearest Gretchen! "I had faith that we should meet, Applegate, and when my brother's colonel here asked me to come with his ward to Italy, I said to myself, "My friend is there; if I do not see him we shall be in the same land; but shail see him!'" "This, then, is Max?" cried Applegate. "Dis is Orderly Sergeant Maximilian Blume! said Max, with awkward dignity. "Goot acquaintance mit you, Meester Shwink."y The negro stalked up behind Max, and said, with a complacent grin: "Sah' de complerements ob Balboa, cook to de mess, absent on furlough from de army ob Missouri! "Really," cried Applegate, full of gladness, "a whole staff, it seems! And of whose military family?" "Miss wedan, said Mailraretha, with a modest face, "this. is Applegate Shlrink, my friend." Miss Redean looked a moment with surprise at Ap- plegate's tall, graceful, well-clad figure, and then bowed. -' "My guardian, sir!" she said, "Colonel Reda&!" The colonel looked also at our hero, penetratingly, and then put out his left hand very pleasantly. , "I have seen a good many Americans abroad, but you are from the North. Now, Agarl" he added, page: 276-277[View Page 276-277] 276 dA FRIEND AT CHAMBERRY. turning to his ward," you have been in antof young gri youlth from America? said Apple ompany T alwo mo wth, sir Shrink." AHplqate, therefore, founthat piqued e e i the glad instang eft metm in this last ove, turned over to another's The Count Cfasso explained the ton most iterest- s ide, and Gretche grand eold sthe rear and walked with MApplegate, yet simply asa f it we t he Clnel staringfe grinew that eveythim no al. "Have you bE from America for saimy home Apple- gate. "Two months, sir!" "Is it your first visit?" "It is my fifth. At leastWe cshe woss the ter every summer woman, noter reservenationaled by that iquOld Worl ginning, left him ill tlis last admission little ground to talk upon; forf the had hopd that s your favorte was a novice, an woul listen to his sugtions of trave!. However, e described th o of! e town of cenees, but in the midst of it she looked up calmly, ant ,We were here several weers, tw'o seasons The Counat Chivasso explained the town most interest- flow far into the graml Wocl she walked, thouIht Applegate, yet simp y, as if it wereher daily life. felt the distant'dignity of her look and tone. le knew that she recognized in him na equal. "You prefer Europe to America, no doubt?" I prefer America for my home and country!" His pulse was quick. At least she was his country- woman, not denationalized by the Old World. ; Which of these countries is your favorite?" "England, of ourse!" she said. A FRIEND AT CHAMBERRY. 2" ' Applegate was more bewildered than ever. "A rather'individual, indeed, an isolated preference, is yours not?" he ventured to say. "London does not keep American travellers many days, and at this period there are political reasons for our dislike of England. She has recognized our ruin with indecent haste and sat- isfaction, assisted with money and ships to consummate it, and her journals, authors and statesmen have pub- lished our epitaph before we are dead." cI love Etgland, sir,' she said, " nevertheless." "Why, pray?" eBecause my father was an Englishman; my guardian is an Englishman also, and a bjrave soldier of the Union besides. Because it is the freest and the best country in Europe." Her gray eyes were larger and warmer now. As she grew more eloquent, she grew more girlish. "You, sir," she continued, "have perhaps the American fashion of disliking the only nation of your own race in Europe; for by your face I see your Eng- lish descent. To all these Southern races, --these Latins that you continually praise,--you and I are heathens in their silent conceit. Their Christianity is not ours; their notions of home are as unlike ours as a gypsy tent is unlike your mother's sewing-room; they have a dramatic love of honor, but it is not an affection nor a principle. Their literature is not that you would have your sister write or yourself believe: revengeful Dante, Italian in his ingenuities of cruelty, or Hugo, to whom nature is no highler than a melodrama. Calm, equal, self-sufficient liberty does not please them. The West and the North taught them the best that they are, page: 278-279[View Page 278-279] 278 -A FRIEND AT CHAMBERRY. but a lunatic's halloo in the street can make them over- turn the government they themselves ordained but yesterday. Dazzled with the picturesqueness of their half-feudal costume, their glib speech, their noisy ac- tivity, their ever-playing fancy, we look back at Old England as at some bank of chalk and coal peopled with greedy folks. To what land, besides, can an exile fly? Whatgovernment, excepting our own, is so adjustable? We base our thoughts of England upon the vices of her shopkeepers; but England is Shake- speare, Milton, Newton, Victoria!" tHer suppressed voice, in thorough keeping with her former reserve, said this in impulsive undertones, but a high spirit, only half restrained, showed in the flash of her gray eyes. Applegate looked at her with a new sense of admiration. Supple, youthful, and girlish, a strange womanhood declaimed in her, almost imperious, quite eloquent. He felt it to be the habit and the spirit of command! For the first time he appreciated the presence of a high-bred Englishwoman; the Nor- man and the Dane looked out from her long lashes; there was a nostril and a chin sensitive and keen as perception; her brows and hair were dark; when her full face turned upon him it was clear as truth, a cita- del of intelligences that refused to show their strength or admit the familiarity even of equals. He wondered what man could be daring enough to kiss those proud lips, or say love to those gray eyes, without fear. And yet she was all girl; beside Gretchen she seemed to be a niece. I do not know that I agree with you, Miss Redan," A FRIEND AT CHAMBERRY. 279 said Applegate; "but you make me distrust my preju- dices, at any rate." "I do not like people to agree with me," said Miss Reda'n, quietly. At this juncture Agplegate was relieved by hearing "Pop I here's a nigger, at last!" It was Bolivar Oates, confronting Balboa, who looked a pompous protest at the lad's irreverence. "Yes, Belly, "said Mr. Oates, looking with a knotty smile at the anero, "this must be the-star-spangled African; the article that was cursed by Noah out of manhood into merchandise and sacrificed hisself six thousand odd years that onbelief might not be en- couraged. I've bought doves, my boy, and lambs, and squabs, and the colt from its dam; but this is the only article of sale I never bought nor sold. And I'm a leetle glad about it, too " Sah!" said Balboa, "I accept de 'pology and de name of de staw-sprungled I3tdnibal." "Mr. Oates,"said the contractor's wife, "this is a disgraceful recognition. Negro! go on! Bolivar! you deserve killin'! Baron! forgive this singular episode." at Colonel Redan. The Colonel, observing him, cried out lustily: :- "Cola, you scoundrel! I've been looking for you for three summers. You thief! you impostor Orderly! seize him!"I But the "Baron " had already taken to his heels. "Forgive me, Oates!" cried the Colonel to the con- tractor, "but that villain was my commssionaire some page: 280-281[View Page 280-281] xdOV At JlJ INJD .JL ATnLJtlLlUJ5J-UiUIl years ago, and he robbed me- of a pair of portman- teaus." "Gracious heaven!" cried Mrs. Gates, "my watch is gone. Young man! young Applegate I run after the fellow and apprehend him!!" "Why, Colonel!" said Mr. Oates, hat in hand, "how do you do? We met in Saint Louis last. You inspected my hoss-blankets! rll give you, with your permission, a genuine western shake." "Shake and welcome, Gates I " said the Colonel. "I haven!t as many arms, or hands either, as when we met bef6re. They got that paw at Pea-Ridge. " "I knew you'd lose an arm," said Mr. Oates. "I knew you were bound to be in the first specification of danger. Colonel, I wish you'd jest let this boy of mine shake your remainin' hand. It'll be a sort of honor to him, maybe, some time." Bolivar walked up like a soldier and took the Colonel's p alm. "Ill bet you was a fighter," he said, gravely. It was not till evening that our hero had leisure to meet his sweetheart, and then they walked together in the park of the chateau, and, sitting in a sequestered place, beheld only by the tall mountains, looking stolidly over on every side, they yielded themselves to the pleasant emotions of pure affection. With her, hand in his, and her tender eyes seeking his wistful face ever and anon, Applegate asked the news from, Bingen, and what surprises had come to Margaretha. "None, my friend," she said, "there are no seals to be broken for me. I am what I am: a poor German A FRIEND AT cHAMBEmRR. 28I girel, Without fortune or opportunity to meet me un- aware." ' The faily as come once, giving me you; I hope it was not a deceitful fairy." le kissed her and drew hertoward him, and asked if she could thmik him other than himselL "No. I do not doubt that you love me; but you are of a newer race, with a newer chance than me, who are but peasants, bearing the stigma ofour class. America 10 gms ofourclss Amrc is a land of restive youngI men, commanding equality, but proud and deferring to none. Here in Europe you may become the friend of the highest. Inever can, and do not chafe about it, because I am used to it." "This rank is affectation and absurdity," urged Applegate. "I do not comprehend it. You are good and beautiful, and I love you. What more?" "You have not been tested; dear friend. You are sensitive, and aim for places ati dpursuits not common here. In Europe a journalist's is a profession half, way between power and the people, feared from above, respected below." "I do wish to ,be of influence, Gretchen," sa Applegate ;"but whal t has the world and its arena to do with home? Already I think I see a future, and feel within myself the consciousness of power' not truly trained and disciplined as yet, but palpable even to me who doubt myself so often." "None such have I," said Gretchen," being a woman of the humble class; to take me now would be a social, perhaps an intellectual, descent for you, and every day we shall grow ayT fr om each other, farther, farther, dear Applegate." page: 282-283[View Page 282-283] He spoke yet more ardently. "You have the best of qualities, my love: judgment, prescience, perseverance, patience,--those endowments which have made the mothers of our new Western race celebrated in all lands." She smiled sadly: "I do not seek to alarm you, Ap- plegate; but if all or any of the fears which I suggest come to pass, you will know that I shall not blame you; for they were anticipated. Here am I, little more than the preferred servant of one of your country- women, We met in the ship's steerage; you may come to think that a reproach some day." ,.He drew back, a little embarrassed. "p Perhaps it is a reproach already," she said, smiling, and looking frankly into his eyes. He recovered himself with an effort. "Why, foolish Gretchen," he cried, " our accommo- dations were better than the Mayflower's that carried -over the Pilgrim mothers." He would hear no answer to this, but kissed her again, and they spoke no more except of the old, old theme which is always new: love I CHAPTER XXV . BALLOONING ON WHKtcTS. WHEN the party prepared to quit Chamberry, Apple- gate and Max went together to their respective em - & ployers, and begged permission to be allowed to walk together over the Mont Cenis. "I'm afraid," said Colonel Redan to Max, "that you are too stupid to get over those hills, Orderly. Buta good march will do you good. Yes! Igive yo leave of absence for thirty hours. Thatis enough!" "I'll gladly pay your diligende fare in advance, young Shrink," said Mr. Oates, "and a fair rate for your meals, if you can induce Mrs. Oates to give you a holiday. We shall all miss your style of describing things however, and Bolivar particularly." Mrs. Oates, in the rapt anticipation of having some good society at last, was quite gracious to Applegate, merely saying: "Yes, Mister Shrink, I excuse you, and Mr. Oates shan't make no deduction for it. Miss Redan wishes me to ride with her, and, as the Colonel is of a noble family, I shall consent. Be careful of your conduct, and don't encourage that common soldier too much. I take a werry motherly interest in you, Mister Shrink. Please have all the brandy-flaks filled. and some of page: 284-285[View Page 284-285] aS. BALLOONING 0N Wr4'lS. them patrichs de Foigrease- a dozen or two--con- cealed in a small hamper. Hoary war to you I With a kiss from Gretchen, and a wry look of be- reavement from Bolivar, these two, in the gray of the morning, started up the valley of the Are, and Max, with a long, even stride, told in his forgetful, blunder- ing way, to Applegate, scrambling after, many inci- dents of Colonel Redan's daring. But as to the seen- eries that beset them, there is no quicker way to relate it than in Applegate's own words, as they were printed in the newspaper which had asked him to be its corre- spondent :-- OUR SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT S ACCOUNT OF CROSSING THE ' ALPS BY RAILROAD." "SUSA, in Italy. "ME. EDITOR: I set out, with a gallant soldier of the war as a companion, to walk across the Alps yes- terday morning. By an unexpected piece of good for- tune I was disappointed in much of my pedestrian experiences; but was compensated in this novel adven- ture, which I will try to relate to you. "Two hours after I started, I encountered a heavy- set, thick-necked, purple-faced gentleman walking up a hill near St. Jean de Maurienne, a good-sized village. There was no mistaking his English gait, sobriety and manner of respiration. A human propeller he seemed, puffing before him. His coat hung over-his arm; his breeches were rolled up; he had a bald spot, like Esop, on the top of his head. BALLOONING ON WH I;S. 285 "' Bono Giorno!' said I. "'Good-day to you!' the man responded, forget- fully, wiping his mouth with a red bandanna handker- chief. "We were as near acquainted as any man ever was with an Englishman, in half an hour, and, sitting by a roadside wine-house to take some refreshment, I found directly that he was a British engineer, associated with Mr. Fell's new railway across the Alps. "You have long heard, no doubt, that the difficult enterprise, of putting a tunnel under the Alps was com- menced some years ago by the contracting governments of France and Italy. Having bored three miles out of eight, they came, at last, to so solid rock that only about three yards' progress were made every twenty- four hours.- Seeing, therefore, that at least ten years' work remained to be done upon this tunnel, an Eng- lishman resolved to lay a tramway directly over the Mont Cenis pass. He adopted" what was called here the American grade track, said to have been a sugges- tion by an American, and applied between Paris and its suburb of Sceaux, namely, a road of three rails, the middle rail raised nearly a foot above the other two. "On this ran an engine with both upright and hori- zontal wheels, the upright wheels differing in no super- ficial respect from those you see upon any American locomotive, while the horizontal wheels pressed upon the middle rail, which had two flanges. In this way the engine had both pressure and perch. It stood on the side rails like a pair of feet, and clung to the mid- dle rail like a pair of hands. It could not be shaken off as it went round sharp grades and up steep slopes; page: 286-287[View Page 286-287] and it took but a small jump of enterprise to apply the principle of this little Sceaux road to the steep passes of the Alps. v Fell was the anomalous name of the per- son who rose to this conception. The road was just finished when I got to the Alps; but was open as yet only to freight, trains. "'How came you to walk,' said I to my new acquaintance, 'if you are one of the engineers?' "-' Ah! ' he answered, "I shall walk no farther than St. Michel. The cars will 'be going a bit after I get there,' "I began, in my own mind, when he had told me of this railway, to wish to cross the Alps upon it also. You have long been travelling over the Alleghanies in America; but here was a road that ran up the sides of the Alps. The Alps! The great mountain range that it was the boast of conquerors to have ascended, --the mountains of Hannibal, of Pompey, of Charlemagne, of Bonaparte. These were mountains of which there are no, counterparts south of the Polar Seas, - the only mountains where the great glaciers are dandled like cubs by. the bear. So desolate are they that upon ,every jagged pass that crosses them a monastic hospital stands to warm the frozen folks who have wandered from the path or met the avalanche. No steam-whistle ever rang upon them till a little month before. The ocean had long yielded to the engine; the Alps never till now. Between the elder civilizations of the world and ours they had been a perpetual barricade, climbed only by desperate ambition, or starving rapacity, and it was a part of the mission of our century to conquer them, her full triumphs else unachieved I. "So I looked up at the hard stone cliffs, tipped with fir forests, and down at the river Arc, making a ghost story of itself as it ran from its own terrors, and seeing St. Michel beaming in view, I made up my mind that, if human artifice could ever accomplish anything, I would cross the Alps by the tramway. "It was altogether an excess of duck-shot to resolve so hard on what was so easily attained, for I had no sooner made the insinuation that I was detained greatly against my will from .going immediately into Italy, than the engineer interrupted me: - "'Why, lad! I'll send thee over by our train if thou don't mind an outside ride.' "I was prompt to reply, that if I ever did enjoy any- thing heartily, it was a standing position on a train of cars; and at the moment I truly believed it. So, when we got into the bustling little village, all alive with mules, posthoys, goats, shivering bantam chickens, ho- tel signboards, the smell of cooking, and of stable-yards, I was carried with grave deliberation, to the railway station, and handed over to the freight conductor. That personage was obliging enough to let me slip the usual first-class diligence fare into his hands, and by the way as he and the engineer went into the Hotel de la Poste together often, I concluded I had helped to grease the wheels. "It was a little graver, upon a second regard, than I had thought it,--this being bowled down mountains, and discharged ap into them as out of a rifle-barrel. So doubtfuil, indeed, was the railway, that a month's probation had been demanded of it to carry less valua- ble freight than human life. What if we should meet * page: 288-289[View Page 288-289] 288 BALLOONING ON WHEELES. a drove of cattle, or of Piedmont ponies, at the summit, and, frightening them with our belching furnaces, find the whole drove butting us over a precipice? Had I known the character of the road as well then as after- ward, I think that even graver reflections would have disturbed me; but the bell rang so soon that, before I was well decided as to whether I had embarked upon a good or a foolish thing, we were steaming up the val- ley of the Arc. You know what the essentials of an Alpine pass are. A river, trickling from some ever- melting, eternal glacier away up in the snows .of the mountains, hollows for itself a rugged ravine down to the plains. Up this ravine the cattle and goats climb to graze on green patches by the torrent side. Man follows them. Some day one desperate shepherd, weary of looking upon the cold wall of ultimate moun- -tain beyond the fountains of the glacier, plunges into the snows, climbs the last peak, and looks down- into Italy. So does the Italian shepherd, with the same spirit that animated Balboa, scale his side of the Alps by an opposite stream, and behold France. They and their fellow goatherds or hunters make a path across the highest Alp. , Then war leads armies over these cow-tracks. At last, peace, with its caravans, crosses by the same dangerous steeps. The dizzy foothold widens to a road. And to-day, steam, daring to do all that war has done, goes stabbing the heart of the moun- tains with its sharp whistle! "We shot up the gaunt valley of the Arc, all black with huge cliff shadows, following the outer rim of the little clinging turnpike, and occasionally departing from it to leap the river by some thread-like bridge. Before BALLOONING ON; WH r S. 2 us arose here and there some apparently insurmounta ble mountain, which, when attained, would show over its crown another thrice more formidable. The road' side was marked by little patches ofvillages, old as feudalism, and these we tunnelled, or unceremoniously abraded, sometimes cutting a house in half. Again weouy turned the shoulders of hill---where, the sheep appeared again to graze with an awful sense of helpless dizziness, so quickly that the engineer seemed to have solved the problem of squarin the circle. Peasants, in scarlet ead-kerchiefs, kneeling by wooden crucifixes, crossed themselves to see our draon rv e up pale chiks of sky; and loathsome Cretins, horrible with goitres, leaned on their staffs, and wore, for once, an emotional "Our train was made up of four freight carriages and a single passenger car, srsele passenger c ar, the latter very like American street-cars ill construction, two seats onlywithin, running lengthwise, and capable of holding no more than thirty persons. The freight was made up of French and English dry goods and boxes of small'wares. There were two engineers and one brakeman for every car. The road engineer, a soldier and myself were the only passengers, and we stood upon onez of the freight cars, smoking, as We climbed a hundred feet to the mile. Not nnfrequently some poor carter, espying in the dis- tance the engine shouting up to him, turned his pony's head to the cliff, and while we passed the-nag's heels danced to the trembling df its body. Along the way there were deviating roads that sent down bevies of people to remark us=; in their centre, the priest stand- 1 page: 290-291[View Page 290-291] 290 BALLOONING ON WHEELS. ing under his broad black hat-rim, and the old villagers around him, feebly looking on or smiling imbecilely. "All the way the dark scowl of the monstrous moun- tains overhung us. We could hear their feeble echoes, shrill in the rarefied upper air, repeat the cry of our whistle. Snow overlapped us, sliding now and then, with a lazy motion, into some gulf below, and the goats, that can walk on a shadow, said a wondering 'Ba-a-a' to find this grimy iron horse grazing on their silent pas- tures. The passage of the wildest summit of the Al- leghanies was tame pastoral landscape to this vestibule of the Alps. Two of the hills that we clambered up at the speed of twelve miles an hour were of the grade of two hundred and sixty feet to the mile. After an hour we came to a widening of the valley, where an amphi- -theatre of perpendicular precipices inclosed the Ameri- can-like, settlement of Fourneau. High above it- nearly a thousand feet - the black hole of the grand tunnel to Italy looked down at us like a mouse-hole in a hill. Stones blasted from the heart of the granite Central Alp had been spilled from it to make a terrace for the future railway's approaches, and a line of white poles went over the peak, showing the course of the shaft. In the, sterile plain below a new hotel arose among the shanties of the laborers, and they were as- sembled at the tramway-side, in powdery blue faces and motley garbs, huzzaing to see bur steam-hawk dart over crests where their steamm-mole could only burrow. t At this invaded height, I thought of the grandeur of enterprise of man's soul. Thirty-five hundred feet above the sea, all but the strong-winged vultures left far below him, he had raised his hand against eight miles RATTOONING ON WHKIrrS. 291 of thickness of rock, and prepared to strike it through, while at the same dizzy eminence he had laid a spider- thread and flown along it, at a bird's speed, higher than the sources of snow and mist. "We passed Fourneau, and its long air and water- tubes that kept life alive within the three miles of shaft; and it was brave to see the splendid ease with which- our engine increased or slackened its speed, at will, though hardly of an ant's stature. So we reached Mordane, a town of two low, red-roofed hotels and many barns and uptilted carts, set amongst hardy apple-orchards - for the apple-tree is the dotg of vegetables, and will wag, its branches wherever it finds man for company. "Here, at Modena, poor Laurence Sterne strayed to write the last chapter of his 'Sentimental Journey,' and so did I cease here all sentimentalizing, for we were in the presence of the final Alp, the backbone of the great monarch himself, and my mind looked up like a stunned sense, too abashed to be alarmed. Yet the wild savage of an engine, having no soul nor intel- ligence, felt no abashment, but blew out of his hoarse throat a war-whoop, as if saying to the Alp: 'You may pinnacle in elouds your snowy scalp, but I will take it!' "Before I could think, or blow a whiff of my cigar, or answer or hear the heavy material conversation of my companion, we were under the Fort of Esselon, Pied- mont's eagle nest, where she kept her eyrie-watch upon France. It stood upon a separated cliff, reaching out a trembling foot-bridge to the road, and where this foot-bridge caught the hill, the Arc burst out of a rock, page: 292-293[View Page 292-293] 292 BALLOONING ON WH -ikLS. and bayed like a wolf in a shrivelled and famished cataract. "Ilooked down where this cataract leaped, into a gorge where the high pines seemed babies' Christmas- trees. A reeling feeling and a thought to hold on to something came to me. The little engine kept up its head, and like an ibex bounded up the mountain. "Here we were at Lans le Bourg, the last village on the 'Alps. It is visited familiarly by the avalanches. The Are existed no more; man and rock were alone together. "Cold and sharp the spires of the Mount Cenis up- rose, the last churches of the world, shining like split mirrors, and all aflame with the warm autumn sun- light. "'It be a deilish place for a human folk to dwell," said my engineer. "There were woful-faced postilions around the station, thinking that the days of the fat-pursed tourist were over; but the rest of the people looked with a cowed gladness upoln our escaping steam, for it meant the newspaper, the gospel, and the pleasant and sunny world of the plains moved up to these rocky crevices. The great old, barn-like commissary house, whose ' stores had so often fed the snow-bound travellers, seemed older and more infirm, because its uses were over, and I saw the face of the inn-keeper, who was the guide of the Alpine Club, among the bystanders. These were impressions that I received almost regret- fully, as they were to be the last of the inhabited world; for to the right of Lans le Bourg, almost perpendicu- BALLOONING ON WHur ., S. 293 larly, the terraces of the pass -narrow zigzag shelves - were carved into the rock. "Take the wall of your room and gash from side to side of it a dozen dropping angles, so that the continu- ous line of them will reach from the top to the bottom. This will be nearly the Mount Cenis pass. Almost di- rectly overhead is the summit of it, two thousand two hundred and fourteen feet above Lans le Bourg, or eleven times the height of the highest American steeple. Three hundred and fifty feet to the mile the road is hewn up these terraces, going six and a third miles to reach the summit. "To get at this more vividly, imagine a pole a mile long, with one end on the ground and the other leaning on a steeple three hundred and fifty feet in the air. Now steam up this pole at the rate of eight miles an hour. When you have got to the church-steeple, wheel around and steam up another pole, planted on a steeple seven hundred feet in the air. But to agrra- vate the danger of an engine ascending these grades, remember that it must turn itself round when it gets to the first steeple. On all the roads that you are ac- quainted with, an engine to turn a curve requires a radius of five hundred yards. On this Alpine railroad, the widest curves have a radius of only forty-four yards. These curves it must make so high in the air, that a slip is annihilation, and the engine falls like a blackbird shot out of a cloud. I "I wedged myself pretty well into the piles of freight when we started up the first slope, and watched the little engine, panting and throbbing as it tugged at its double row of wheels. When we came to the first page: 294-295[View Page 294-295] i -294 BALLOONING ON W ETLS. curve it clung to its middle rail, and swung round, as !: .- .if to 'set our tail car on fire with its hot breath. Down ci::::- into the pit that we grazed I peeped one moment, and saw the insects ofpeople looking up. Again our en- gine, seizing the rails of the second plane in its revolv- ing teeth, sparedt-one jubilant, whistle, and mounted anew. The turnpike-road was just within us, jammed between our rails and the rocks, a low fence dividing the stream from the beasts; but we were hung, without a balustrade, over the edge of the chasm,-.naked rock, - and, as if in pity for us, a cloud soared up from the valley, and threw its misty hands about us, so that we could no more see the peril we were in. "'I bean up 'ere often, lad,' said the engineer,' and I alwoos think that if I am to fall, I can say a little prayer before I hit the graund! ' "Again we hear the whistle, - very low this- time, for we are half way to that height where sound nigh ceases, -and around the other curve a drove of sorrel Tuscan oxen comes, all commingled. They look down at us with distended brown eyes, and some toss their horns, and others crouch low. They sway and flounder together a moment; the whistle gives them a crack that pains like* a whip; then they go galloping down the descent. "I grew confident after a time, and, watching the old pilgrims crouching under the rocks, I thought of all the ages of weary climbing up this same hill, --the bar- barians leaning on their long spears; the monks, bare- footed in the snows, full of the vanity of self-infliction, the captives going to Rome to fight the wild beasts; the Roman legions steadily defiling, grim with rigorous 'BALLOONING ON WHErT S. 295 discipline; the Crusaders, wearing their red crosses; Charlemagne, great-bearded, wondering if God were greaterthan himself; the early Christians, descending to martyrdom; the painters and the poets, seeking patron- age of kings; last of all - climax of our century - the American special correspondent, travelling by steam, to report the wonders of Italy. "Yes, Italy! For at the height of nearly six thousand eight hundred feet above the sea, I heard the conductor cry, 'Down brakes!' The engine ceased her short, spasmodic breathing; every brakesman groaned at his wheel; a low rumble ran beneath the cars; we yielded ourselves to gravity, as became the languishing land we were entering, and slid into the plain of red-capped towers, of deep blue lakes, of olive-groves, - the land where to be inspired is only to breathe; to be enslaved is not-to be degenerate; the land which sent Christian- ity to America, and to which America will return free- dom." - page: 296-297[View Page 296-297] 296 THE, FroST DAY OP IAT Y. CHAPTER XXY111. THE FIRST DAY OF ITALY. NEXT day they were all comfortably settled at the Hotel de France, in the little and ancient town of Susa, and Applegate was kindly considered by Colonel Redan and his niece. They walked to see the little -that was noticeable, - the arch of Cottius raised in the lifetime of Augustus Caesar, before the star of Jesus shone, and from neighboring eminences the whole long line of the Western! Alps was visible. It was chiefly a day of rest, and they were entertained by hearing Applegate's descriptions at the inn; for he had antici- pated the surrounding associations in his readings, and he had a ready eye for location and direction. He was gratified to be able to amuse his friends, but it would have been more pleasant to sit alone with his sweetheart, and talk over the more wonderful landscape of the heart. This was not yet to be, and Miss Redan absorbed all the young man's leisure. "Is there anything between us and the sea?" she said. * How far is the Mediterranean?" "Perhaps seventy miles in a straight line," answered Applegate; "-but all the way southward the Alps go up and town in ridges nearly impassable except by the i:'a rHE FIRST DAY OF ITALY. 297 beach of the sea and over this mountain, that we can see from the window, - Genevra." e Has it a recollection worth reviving?" "Yes! behind it are the Vaudois valleys, the lands of the Waldenses, those most persecuted of all people. They were so hidden in their wild green recesses that the ambitious church forgot them, and so during many early Christian centuries they retained the simple wor- ship taught them by the martyrs. At last the hier- archy, with all its intricate and glittering institutions, broke into these narrow vales. It beheld a few thou- sand quiet shepherds,. who only prayed, and sang, and heard their preachers expound the gospels, and it crossed itself with horror. This was long before the birth of Luther, and these few mountaineers were the apostolic link between Christ and Calvin. The- other apostolic church marched up the valleys, and with fer- vent prayer proceeded to plant the stake. Then it said the-sacraments and used human beings for tapers in them. It: continued this conscientious form of sacri- fice from the thirteenth to the eighteenth century. The two apostolic lines looked up to the same God, one burnt --and praying, the other -praying and keeping up the blaze." "Five centuries!" cried Mr. Oates; "bless my soul That was before General Washington's time!" "It was before the time of CoTumbus a hundred and fifty years," said Applegate, " and the whole drama of America has not been as long as were the tortures of these Vaudoise. When Cortes and Pizarro were fight- ing, these poor souls were burning. When De Soto saw the Mississippi, the cry of the Vaudoise ascended page: 298-299[View Page 298-299] 29-8 THE FIRST DAY OF ITALY. yet. When John Smith lay under the club of Pow- hattan, the executioner was lopping off these gray heads. The ship of Hendrick Hudson sailed up the broad, gray river of New York while the martyrs were still-stabbed at their firesides. The thirteen colonies were fully organized, but blood ran unceasingly here, because faith was unconquerable. And it was not till this our day of Garibaldi-come-home-from-America that the most ancient people in Piedmont, loving their land always, were permanently made citizens. In 1848 Freedom and Union in Italy struck hands and said: 'Seven hundred years of murdering is enough; which- ever be right before God ye shall be equal as men!'" "This Garibaldi," said Mrs. Oates, " is not a respect- able person, as I hear. He is always fighting, and had to go to candle-making one time. If he succeeds, Shoddy will rule Italy. Dirty fellows in velvet jackets will wear crowns and eat maccaroni on the palace steps. They will have Methodist preaching in the cathedrals, and hand-organs will take precedence of the Steinway piano. I think he ought to be exscumannu- ated as an upstart!" "Excommunicated is the word," said Mr. Oates, "defined in the New American speller as 'stale thun- der.' It's a way of making one eminent. If I had an invention, and wanted it to sell, I'd have it excommuni- cated by all churches, from the Shakers up. I doubt that we'd know if the world moved but for the infalli- ble clergymen who built a gridiron for Galileo. They advertised it." "Yes," said Applegate," and the discovery of liberty in Italy makes Garibaldi the'brother of Galileo. I THE FIRST DAY OP ITALY. 299 would rather march among his red shirts than wear a crown." "Young man," said Mrs. Oates, sharply, niffed at her recent malpronunciation, "you're pert! If you were my son I'd take you down a button-hole. You're too big for your place anyway!" There was a long silence. Everybody was too indig- nant to speak. At last Applegate said, with a trem- bling voice:- "Madame, my place is too big for me. It breaks my heart." He went out and sat upon a rustic chair in the gar- den, full of grief and indignation. Another pause suc- ceeded his retirement, and then Colonel Redan, sud- denly striking the floor with his cane, said:- '"Madame, you ought to have had -'a military educaP tion. You would have been a capital hand to break the spirit of a raw recruit. Come, Agar," he said, "Iet us hear Applegate talk again. Orderly, go in advance!" "My dear," said Mr. Oates, when they had gone, "I would prefer you to strangle me with a measuring line, such as we compute cubic feet of stone with, rather than speak so to young Shrink again." "Mar," cried Bolivar, "I'm glad Applegate aint your I son, and I'm sorry you're my mother. I shall give I Applegate all my marbles now, and let him spin my top." "Oh! you both conspire against me," cried Mrs. Oates. "I expected it! I shall write to my relations in Tuckapuck of this conduct. I will, if I live! I'll tell I strangers of it! I'll advertise it!" X page: 300-301[View Page 300-301] O U THE FIRST DAY OF ITALY. 'Yes!" replied Bolivar, dodging a cushion his mother threw at him; "have us exscumannuated, won't you?" Applegate, meantime, with a mind full of violent purposes, overrushing his more generous gentlemanli- ness; sat in the inn-yard looking at the mountains. I Oh! desperate state of dependence!" he said, " to be raised as a favor to intimacy with a vulgar mistress and then abased before strangers I respect. Before ladies, too! her whom I love, and another, so refined! I will break this chain! I will not endure it I I shall say to Mr. Oates that his wife is a tyrant, - yes! an ignorant tyrant, a coarse parverue! I will live upon a crust till my letters return me money. This instant I shall tell-him so!" He stopped, ere yet he started headlong. Fifteen gold Louis were his all, - a poor sixty dollars! They recalled to him those dreadful days of hunger on the Holland dikes. iHe dared not quarrel with his em- ployer. "O my poor heart," he said, aloud, "do any others suffer so?" (' Yes!" said a sweet voice, " all suffer, and some in more than pride, - in body, in soul I " He thought it was Gretchen, and the tears came to his eyes. "Dear love," he said, without looking up, "Iet me lean my head upon your hand. Thank you for this comfort!" He put his head upon the soft palm. It was balm to the fever of his temples. "Speak again!" he murmured; "your encourage- ment is great." M1E FIRST DAY OF ITALY. 301 The hand trembled. The voice was lower. "All pride must be chastened," it said; "think of those Vaudoise martyrs you spoke of so eloquently. They suffered longer than it seemed possible for God to permit. All ingenuity was at work to probe them in every part. Ich Dien is the motto of a Prince. My whole sympathy and admiration are with you. You are adventurous, brave, modest, and full of fresh sym- pathies. Keep them, and bear up!" "I love you more and more!" he said. The hand trembled. It unclasped. Applegate looked up into the face of--Miss Redan! It was proud, yet blushing. "You are bold, Mr. Shrink!M " she said, with the look of a queen. "I take back my word that you are mod- est!" "Forgive me, Miss Redan," he said; " upon my honor I did not know you! I thought it was another." "Oh!" she cried, even prouder than before, " was it that? Then I have lost my compliment as well as my temper. Take care again, sir!" As she passed away, leaving Applegate almost smil- ing at his ludicrous mistake, Margaretha came up from the garden, very pale. Applegate hastened to speak to her. She evaded him, without a look, and disappeared in the hotel. Applegate stopped in the garden with a rueful look. "Is it possible that Gretchen can be capable of jeal- ousy?" he said. But his mind was merely amused by the suggestion. A newer, graver inquiry drove away all thought of it. v The new thought was:- . , . A. , page: 302-303[View Page 302-303] 302 THE FIRST DAY OF ITALY. "Why did Miss Redan blush, and yet show anger when I retracted my confession of love? Can she, could she, accept love. froms me?-she, with all her graces and opportunities, her wealth and her birth? No! it was an error on both sides!" But if it was an error, it was like those flowery, er- roneous paths which take young poets far from their loyalties, and Applegate stood awhile, looking up at the monstrous mountains, with visions like their tinted snows floating through his mind. It was of Miss Re- din that he thought, - his patron, his friend, perhaps his affianced, - opening up to him the wonders of that truer Europe which he had not seen, the social and courtly cloisters, the equal friendship of its gentlemen, and the favor of its noble women, the inner circles of diplomacy and state craft, the very drawing-rooms of its Kings and Queens. There were keys which unlocked even these golden gates, and the surest was a wife like Agar Redan, with her beauty and her gracious dignity I Then Applegate thought of Gretchen's saying-: We met in the ship's steerage; you may come to think that a reproach some day. Perhaps it is already." He grew ashamed of himself, to perceive that his wayward imaginations carried him so far from his vows, and was relieved to see honest Max approaching, with a long, strong stride. "Max," cried Applegate, "were you ever in love?" "Not any!" cried Max. "It spoils a soldier to have a voman. It spoils a young man, Meister Shwink. See de "vorld firstl Make von fortune! De voman can vait." THE FIRST DAY OF ITALY. 303' '"Why, Max," cried Applegate, "would you break your word with a good girl to get the chance to advance yourself?" "No!" said Max, " but I vould vait and dink some- dings. It is easy, Meister Applegate, to fall in love, but it is hard to make von fortune." "You speak as my friend, Max Blume?" asked Ap- plegate. "Yes!" said Max. "I likes you, bruder, or as dey say in America, I speak 'Honest Injin.' " "What is your purpose, Max?" "To ender de great war dat comes zoon as faster: Nord Germans against deir rulers! It be not long dime, Applegate. Look at Schlesvig-Holstein. Dere de first fight begin mit de PDane." Applegate was amused at the earnestness of Max. "Will you teach me the use of arms some time, Max? I should like to see a war." "Mit pride and pleasure!" answered the cavalryman, striding away. Our courier was left with a disturbed spirit, - ambi- tion, vanity, doubt, shame and love contending to- gether, --and Colonel Redan, coming out in the twi- light, added a hope to his confusion which made him quite unable to sleep t hat night. "Applegate," said the Colonel, kindly, "you should not be so sensitive. Toughen your spirit! There is good material in you; but you cannot appear to advan- tage in the place you occupy now. You are acting in a subordinate capacity for our friend Oates, by accident only, and we all make allowance for it. But take an early opportunity to change your occupation. Perhaps page: 304-305[View Page 304-305] 304 THE FIRST DAY O ll AT,.* I can help you to a higher plane. My ward, Agar, is interested in you, and at her request I have this evening written to a friend of mine, who is a controlling stock- holder in a London daily journal. Perhaps he can pay you for some letters upon Italian and German politics; for at this juncture, as you know, the Italians are pos- sessed with the desire for unity, and Prussia, under her absolute Prime Minister, Bismarck, is making uneasy movements in the body of Germany. You seem to me to write clearly and understandingly, and if we can find something of this nature for you to do, we possess also the instrumentalities for you to inform yourself. I am accredited from both the United States War Department and the State Department to our Ministers everywhere, and am enjoined particularly to examine the military systems of the Continent. Introduced by me you will have special facilities to become valuable to your jour- nal." "I am too much amazed to express my thanks," said Applegate. He was left alone again, almost stunned by the ap- parent ciange in his fortunes, and the praise he had re- ceived was even sweeter than these benefits: Again the starlighted sky grew populous with the pageants of his new career. He felt himself grow older in these high hopes than he had grown by his sore poverty, and was so self-possessed that when a man's hand slapped him familiarly upon the shoulder, he turned about al- most listlessly. The man who confronted him was handsomely dressed, light and careless of speech and countenance, and he said, with a hearty laugh:- "Young Shrink, well met! THE FIRST DAY OF ITAFY. 305 "I thought you were dead, Mr. Holt," answered Applegate, distantly; "for I myself saw you disappear in the fissure of a glacier, not far from Andermatt."! "Ah! yes. I lodged in a shelf of snow, however, a little way from the top, and was covered to the ears. By good luck I climbed out." "Did your enemy also escape?" asked Applegate. "God help him!" cried the other, shortly. "I am sure I didn't waste any exertions upon him. I venture to hope he went to the bottom. It is a more important matter that I have sought you for, Shrink: to return the money I borrowed from you at Antwerp." X He laughed in his old-fashioned way, and said that he was "' flush. " "I picked up a few thousand Louis at Hambourg," he said, "betting on a favorite system of mine, and it has always been a little upon my mind that I relieved you of your wallet; for I did not know but that you might be foolish about it, and commit suicide; or turn prig, or something of the sort. There's no particular reason why I should pay you this money; for you have no witnesses to swear that I took it. But I want to be generous with you; for a gamester is often in need of a stake, and I consider this restitution to be laying up treasure in heaven." He laughed insolently, but Applegate was cold and severe. "You took more than a hundred American gold dollars from me, Mr. Holt, and I expect you not only to return their equivalent, but also to pty me for the expense and labor I have been at to preserve my life. You can never pay me for the suffering of heart and page: 306-307[View Page 306-307] sensibility you have caused me; but as I have been obliged to be a valet, a pack-horse, for want of that money, I think jyou should be made to pay me a settled sum for every month that you have deprived me ofit." l "That's satisfactory!" said Holt; " speak out! But you are considerably bolder than you used to be. What in the devil has come over you within a fort- night?" "You should pay me two thousand francs in gold," continued Applegate, sternly. "If I am bolder it is not from your tuition, sir!" Holt laughed, and opened his eyes. '( There is the money," he said; " shake hands I And if you like, my hearty, I'll lend you an extra five hundred." "Nbo!" said Applegate, coldly; "I cannot borrow from you." "All right!"' crie'd Holt, "and now our acquaintance ceases, I suppose. You have a stake, and you are more manly and business-like in your address than when I met you. Of course you have got over the weakness for that Dutch girl we met amongst the emi- grants ; for I see her here as hair-dresser, or child's nurse or something." "Be done, sir!" spoke Applegate, to whom every word had been a stab. "That lady is at least not a thief." Holt drew himself up, and showed the first indica- tion of rage that his opponent had ever marked. Ap- plegate thought at first that Holt meant to strike him; but in a moment the latter broke into a short laugh. Well! you have a right to be saucy, Shrink," he THE FIRST DAY OF ITALY. 307 cried. "1 did commit a very petty larceny upon you. But I have good blood in me, though I must have my 'stake' and my fun. Why, young Applegate, one half of me is of the best family stock in old England; for the other half I can't say as much. I was put into the army and it spoiled me, and for some years I havehad tight times. But I shall recover myself again. By the way, where is that fine creature we met upon the ship, Miss -Miss Kent, I believe she was called?" - In Paris, I believe!" said Applegate. "But I must bid you Adieu. We are quits." "Quits it is!" answered Holt, striding off in the dark.. Applegate waited to see, according to previous habi- tude, the gaunt and remorseless enemy of the English- man stealing from some cleft or shadow; but the avenger did not come, and it crossed the mind of our hero that perhaps fortunate casualty had rid Holt of this pursuing Nemesis. "And so," thought Applegate, " perhaps my enemies iave also given up the chase: Penury and Depend- rnce. How much do I owe to Agar, the good, the )eautiful, the noble?" Full of this feeling of gratitude, Applegate entered he hotel, and, seeking his far-up room, sat at a table nd counted his gold. A sense of God's kindness ame to him, and he knelt and returned thanks. As e drew the curtains of his window aside, he saw across he court of the inn his sweetheart, Gretchen, sitting y a lamp, cheerful of face, and singing a little thing 'om the poet Heine, which touched Applegate's sym- a athies-- , * . i page: 308-309[View Page 308-309] 308 THE FIRST DAY OF. ITALY. ('"Heart, my heart, - oh! be not shaken, And still calmly bear thy pain I Fo: the spring will bring again -What a dreary winter's taken. "And how much is still remaining, And how bright the world still beams, And, my heart, - what pleasant seems, - 9ihou may'st love with none complaining!" "GOood, patient sweetheart!" said Applegate, 'let me be my better self!" He ran to- the door of her room and gently tapped upon it. t Beloved!" he whispered," kiss me good-night and trust me!" She kissed him, without hesitating. "My love," she said, " my heart you have taken, and I cannot call it back. It will not come. Whatever hoppens, it is yours when you wish it. Be it at your will In t*V:JS MTURS UNDER GROUlND. 309 CHAPTER XXTX. JfJVJ MrLE3S UNDER GROUNDe IT was growing winter, yet on the soft south side of the Alps, always visible on their left hand, as they travelled eastward, the approach of the cold was scarcely felt. The railway, on which there were a few cars somewhat like those of the United States, descended a narrow torrent, whose valley alternately widened and con- tracted, and they observed mulberry groves on every side, where the silkworm drew the leaves into his living i loom, and sometimes fields of Indian corn--very rare in Europe--were observable.- All round about the ponderous mountains protruded their spurs, though now and then soft, shining vistas opened through the clefts, and Applegate knew that he was treading the path by which great Charlemagne broke down the Lombard gates, and pierced to the presence of the Pope. He had scarcely time to pass this jrealizatipn from his eye to his delight, when they were entering the environs of Turin, and in plain sight lay the valley of the Po, the Mag'dalena river of Italy. They went directly to the Hotel de l'Europe, though Colonel Red;n exhibited some impatience at the contact of Mrs. , Oates with his ward, and there Bolivar wyas placed in a lofty, well-lighted room, where he looked out upon the page: 310-311[View Page 310-311] 1 -Vr- }'tI MLTE8 URNDER GROUND. broad square of the old castle, and saw beyond it the palace of the King of Italy. Into the large square nearly a dozen streets poured their currents of people, and one street, broad, and flanked with stone arcades, led straight to, the River Po. It was a clean and beau- tiful city, not old to look upon, though some churches - were rather venerable, and the old castle had a patched and dilapidated look, in part covered with battlements, in part a mere City Hall. The people were tall-and fine-looking, 'reminding Applegate of the Americans, and they were clustered in animated groups upon this broad square; for at present Sardinia was looked upon as one of the freest states, and the most unruly one in Europe, -the champion of Italian unity. Colonel Redln ordered a carriage for himself and Agar, and invited Applegate to ride with them around the city, and out to the Superga, the burial-place of the Dukes of Savoy. It painled Applegate to quit Margaretha; but a new destiny seemed to have possessed him, and when he was placed beside the calm and gracious lady who had espoused his cause, he felt the magnetism of her pres- ence, and his heart fluttered. As they were about driving out of the hotel court, they observed a commotion in the Square, as if the people were silently and unpleasantly agitated, and immediately a fine-looking cavalry officer, in a whitish uniform, rode out of the gate of the King's palace, fol- lowed by a dragoon Sergeant, also on horseback. The officer- was young 'and florid, and a large horse-tail plume waved above the- shining helmet on his head. His accoutrements were rich and splendid, and he paid FIVE MeS UNDERK GROUN,. 3" no attention whatever to the suppressed scorn of the Piedmontese, who were heard to utter on every side the words:- "Behold the Austrian again in Tuin I " "It is an Austrian officer," said Colonel Redan; "brought here, perhaps, upon some military errand from the neighboring province of Venetia. The people have good cause to hate him; for there are no diplo- matic relations existing between Italy and Austria, though the military people must occasionally confer." "Why, Colonel," said Agar, "it is Baron Bruck, our Viennese acquaintance." "It is, indeed," replied the Colonel; "he is a cool, cruel fellow, but a fine soldier. I wonder that he ven- tures here, after his iron discipline over the poor devils at Padua." The young man had already observed the occupants of the carriage, and, trotting up to the wheels, he saluted them familiarly. "Colonel," he said, "I see you have a spare place in the carriage, and as I shan't receive much hospitality from these treacherous beggars, who owe me no good will, I will ride with you, if you like." . "Come, with welcome!" cried the Colonel. i In a moment the officer had slipped from his horse, and taken the vacant seat. Agar spoke to him pleas- antly, and Applegate was introduced, at whom the Austrian looked coldly, and bowed. He removed his helmet after a minute, and passed it to the driver, who touched it with compunction, scowled, and laid it on the seat by his side. The Austrian laughed con- temptuously. page: 312-313[View Page 312-313] 8312 FiVE XTrUFS UNDER GROUND. "They will never forgive me for keeping them down in the Quiadrilateral," he said. "I have had severe work, as you may know." "Yes," said Colonel Redan; "I have heard you likened to Haynau for the fashion in which you filled your casemates with Lbmbards, Venetians, and Tus- cans alike." Quite likely! I had to do some shooting and some hanging beside. These fellows are, to Europe what the Indians are to America, - a totally useless and cumber- some race. Fair play debauches them. They must be helped to perish." Applegate felt a dislike of this man spring suddenly up in his heart; for his sympathies were all with Italy. He knew this to be one of the cold, merciless Germans, who had clutched the beautiful peninsula by the throat, and sought by slowly tightening the grasp to strangle it. As they rode along, passing many statues of for- a gotten dukes, under tall, deep-corniced houses, with many window balconies and omnipresent Venetian shut- ters, they came to a cafe in the public garden, where they dismounted to take some refreshment. Under the statue of Daniel Manin, the forlorn hope of Venice in 1849, sat an old man reading an English newspaper, - a man of hairs so white that Applegate did not note their thinness, -bowed down and meek and silent, yet very kindly-eyed, but never flushed by any period to which he came; past the young dreams of a grand free state, but waiting yet, though death seemed closer than freedom, reading the journal all apart, so respected that not the busiest intruder did more irreverence than look with mild- and loving askantness toward where he I 'lv MTrs UNDER GROUND. 313 sat alone, aged, very thoughtful. This was Louis Kos- suth, - the man of glory when Applegate was a little boy; the rescued, praised, assisted man, whose thought toward our country is childlike yet, although our warm welcome made him hope too well. Applegate sat in a sort of affectionate fear, looking at this grand, almost worn-out champion of Hungary. "There is the old pauper, Kossuth," said the Baron, lightly; "he is a long while dying." Colonel Redan stepped up and gave the exile his hand. Applegate did the same. The Austrian was too discreet to make any further remark, and only smiled, when the Colonel said to him:-- "Bruck, your day will come after a while, and it will come hard. Your Archduke, that is about trying to make a Venetia of Mexico, will be glad to come back too late. The Prussians and Italians will shake the fabric of your dreams at home about the same time. It is a long reckoning for the young Kaiser." "How do you feel upon this subject, Miss Redan?" asked the officer. "I feel for Italy all the time," she said; and I always shall." The Baron smiled more grimly, and cast one sharp glance at Applegate, as if wondering who he might be, and what relation he bore to the lady. "You make me afraid my suit will never-uccess- . ful, he cried. "You have broken my heart once, you know. But then you English are so cold?!" Miss RedAn showed by the enlarged look of her gray eyes that she felt both enjoyment and the spirit of mischief. " :!' , page: 314-315[View Page 314-315] "I have a gentleman here," she said, "who is in sympathy with me entirely upon this subject, and who is, besides, informed upon it." The Austrian officer merely repeated the searching look he had twice given Applegate, and bowed dis- tantly. "You are also English, sir?" he -asked. '"No, I am American." "I had supposed," said the Austrian, dryly, "that there was plenty of need for an American's sympathy and talent upon one side or the other of the civil war now raging in the United States." "We had an abundance of your German mercena- ries for all present needs when I left there," answered Applegate, without wincing. "Bounties were higll, and not possessing the influence to obtain a commission in advance of my knowledge, YI thought I might learn something from more fortunate gentlemen on this side of the sea." He spoke upon the pique, and looking directly at his antagonist, who did not wince. "Mr. Shrink," said Agar, with promptness, "is a journalist, also, who keeps America informed upon military and political movements in Europe." "Then," said Colonel Bruck, "he had 'better look out for Feldzeugmeister Benedek, who commands our army of occupation, and who holds newspaper-writers to be a little worse than spies." "Benedek is a good man," said Colonel Redin; "but I have always noticed in America that the most fero- cious vanquishers of the newspaper writers seldom vanquished much besides." t FIVE MLES UNDER GROUND.- 315 By this time they had crossed the swift, green River Po, aid climbed the heights which overlooked it. They could see the whole rectangular arrangement of the streets, the frequent squares and plazas, the beau- tiful outlying gardens perched upon the sunny knolls, and the frequent churches; while, like a circle of shadow and snow, the huge mountains coiled about the horizon, shooting up their loftiest peaks to dizzy emi- nences. I Steadily ascending, they dismounted at last before the Superga, where lay entombed the Dukes of Savoy and the Kings of Sardinia, and the Austrian officer ex- plained to Colonel Rednu some scenes in which Carlo" Alberto had taken part, --the father of King Victor REmmanuel. Miss Redan drew Applegate aside, and they stood under the portico of the temple of sepulture and saw the panorama of the Alps, - the warm light creeping m along the peaks, and underneath, in the moist valley, the mists rose thick and smoking. "You are a poet," said Agar, turning upon Apple- gate her large gray eyes, and speaking in a lower tone; "this picture must be more beautiful to you than to me." He thought a moment before he spoke, and a bold, uncontrollable impulse came to him to say:-- "It is more beautiful to me, I think, because you are in it." She also was silent for a time, and both of them showed an embarrassment which was yet somewhat like happiness, page: 316-317[View Page 316-317] t( "Do you ever say such things to others?" she asked at last. - A keen, momentary admonition came to him; but he seemed acting under some new spell ol destiny, whether good or evil he could not tell. "Not in the same way, if ever," he said, with a timid lifting of his eyes; " a change has come over my nature of late: better fortune, wider aspirations, -greater unrest, possess me. It is all since you have appeared to me." "Beware of me!" said Agar, rising more divinely to his eyes, "if that be so. The Baron Bruck said the same once, and was a long time recovering. I do not know whether I have the'power to disturb other hearts or not; but I fear I have the will sometimes." "You have, Miss Redan," he said, carried along upon the same current of wilful feeling; " at your look I am kindled. Till now I have not known what has given me suddenly new wishes and greater strength, a rebellious tongue and a cooler pulse. It must be a new passion, bearing down all others. I dare not name it, for fear you may be angered at my presump- tion.' "Speak," she said, pale and straight, but looking away into the valley. "I believe I love you! he whispered, recklessly. He had said it, and at once the panorama of the landscape seemed to change, the mists to rise denser and hide the orchards and mulberry-groves, the heavy mountains to grow dark and capped with shadow. Like to them the mind and conscience of Applegate Shrink grew clouded; he did not see his simple sweet- *- U Lw lVUU NQUAD 317 heart waiting in the inn, bearing up under her doubts and fears; he did not see his other self, honorable to his word and heart, preserved by Heaven from want and wickedness and growing purer as he grew poorer. Good fortune had turned his head, and wilfulness had its way. "Laugh at me," he continued; "but you have had the power to turn me from a boy to a man. I am a man. I feel it! I shall qualify myself for man's ex- ploits, and toughen-my nature, as your guardian ad- vised me. The life that I have not dared I will dare: the life of arms, of emprises, ofadventures, - descending into the hidden nooks of the world, climb- ing to its social pinnacles. The hope that you will re- ward me will be like a strong hand in the darkness, like silent counsel in the blinding light. Speak, as to one of your age, as to a man, and not a child. May I hope ?" She stood pale and tall, listening, and her face faintly expressed pity, pleasure and pride together. He had passed the barrier, and there was no retreat; so he reached boldly for her hand, which she did not with- hold. As Applegate took it, cold and slender, in his own, he saw down the steps of the Superga the young Austrian Colonel come, and a flash of recognition passed between them. In the Baron's face dislike and contempt were plainly expressed. Applegate returned both in an intenser degree, and while the soldier looked, with his thumb upon his sabre-hilt,--1Miss Redan meantime unconscious of the presence of a witness,.- he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. page: 318-319[View Page 318-319] 318 F'IVE MLES UNDER GROUND. * Silence I " she said; my guardian is here, and he does not like to see me in this mood." As they returned to Turin, Applegate kept well ulp to his clianged character, talking fast and even brilliantly, so that Colonel Redan laughed, and even the Austrian felt that perhaps he had underrated his boyish rival, while Agar's large gray eyes rested upon Applegate's but once or twice, and always with the strange expres- sion betwixt compassion and interest. He spoke of the sorrowful and heroic history of Italy, her civil wars, her intercivic combats, her -position midway be- tween Pope and Kaiser, German and Gaul, and Colo- nel Redan, who shared his repulsions and sympathies upon this subject, but expressed them more temper- ately, watched how the Austrian officer looked haughtily and grimly upon his critic. "Oh!" said the latter, "we are used to having the poets against us; singing never redeemed ally people. All that is left of these Italians is the opera and the hand-organ." "I feel," said the one-armed Colonel, "that I would give them my other arm, Bruck, if they wanted it badly."' Applegate said nothing; but he thought of the promise of Max to teach him the manual of arms. As they approached the hotel the young traveller felt the awe of meeting the- pure, introspective look of his affianced, to whom he stood forever perjured; but she was called straightway by Agar, and he passed up to Bolivar's room. The little combatant looked pale and worn, and he said, feebly:-- "Applegate, do you hear drums?" J.4IVE MLES UNDER GROUND. 319 ' No," answered Applegate; " where, ZBolivar?" "Everywhere! I hear them going rattle, rattle, and then deep and- low. There's a fight somewhere, I guess." "Dat ar's a bad omen," said the negro Balboa, with a look of awe; "de sojers dat was boun' to get shot used to hear dem." "We must get him away from here, the doctor says," 'exclaimed Mr. Oates; "the winds in Turin are too sharp. I mean to carry him up to Lugano, where it is milder."' "Bolivar," said Applegate, "shan't I tell you a story?" "Not now," said Bolivar; "you don't look like you did. Where's Gretchen? I want her to talk to me, and then, perhaps, I won't hear these drums and the music." "Oates," cried Colonel Redan, "I'll lend you Agar's girl, and you let Applegate run up with me to-morrow to Bardonneche." "Very well!" answered the troubled contractor. "This is a quare freak of Bolly's, Applegate, to go back on your stories." "Have I indeed lost my influence with children?" asked Applegate to himself, as he descended the stairs. "But perhaps I deserve to." The next morning, therefore, Applegate accompanied Colonel Redan to the town of Bardonneche, - a ride of three hours by rail to the westward. Bardonneche is one of the outlets of the great Alpine tunnel, which pierces the Grand Vallon Mountain, - eleven thousand feet in height, - a peak adjacent to the Mont Cenis pass. page: 320-321[View Page 320-321] -320 ]FIVE MTTFS UNDER GROUNi. The other outlet is near Modena, the town which Ap. plegate passed when he crossed the Mont Cenis. Colonel Redan was an accomplished engineer, and he had been invited by the French engineer, Som- meilles, to inspect this tunnel; for Sommeilles had in. vented this machine which was used to bore the holes that open the tunnel. This machine was called L'affusto4 and it had made this tunnel, of seven miles and a half in length, possible to be accomplished. "Sommeilles," said Colonel Redan, as they stood at the tunnel's mouth, near the lofty and cheerless village of Bardonneche, "when did you commence this pro- digious work?" "In the year 1857," said the Frenchman. "I vow to you that it has been a sad task! Italy is bankrupt. France alone keeps us going. It will be, perhaps, 1874, before we make daylight shine through the Alps. By that time, I fear I shall be quite a beggar!" "Oh I lose no heart," cried Colonel Redan ; " perhaps you will come to a perfect Golconda of precious metals and priceless stones in the heart of the mountains. You deserve to find as much wealth there, after sailing through rock for fifteen, years, as Columbus, sailing across water for a few months." This remark touched Applegate's imagination, and he observed the tunnel closely. When he returned the same night to Turin, he consulted the authorities, and made up his mind to write a circumstantial legend of the Great Tunnel, which should be pleasing to poor Bolivar. This story he based upon the possibility of makinp rare discoveries at the centre of the Alps, and Vr b , ...... * * iVlE MLES UNDER GROUND. 31 posed 'to be at the time in jail at Susa upon a false charge. He found Bolivar much'better, and willing to hear him; so he bqgan at once. "This criminal, Boli- var," said Applegate, as Bolivar lay feverishy listening in his bed at the Hotel de PEurope, "was a dissipated engineer, named Pierro Tagliare, and his confession I shall call the 'Gold Hoax.' " "Go on, then, Pierro Tagliare," cried Bolivar, anxiously; "with your story of the tunnel." Applegate drew out his manuscript, with a look of affected penitence, and read to Bolivar:-- "THE GOLD HOAX. e BY PIERRO TAGLIARE. tI am a native of Carignano, but my mother was the sister of Carlo Chega, who first laid the rails across the Austrian Alps, and I studied mnining and surveying at his office in Trieste, where I acquired a khowledge of mineralogy and metallurgy, and made one or two recon- noissances in the Carpathian mountains. It was my uncle's favorite project to lay a railway across the Mont Cenis, and at his suggetion I returned to Piedmont, and spent four years in exploring the foot-crossings and goat-paths, to hit upon the most available route. Being of Austrian connection, I failed to get the ear of the Savoyard authorities, and had the mortification to see the route I suggested for a tunnel across the Grand Vallon passed aside, and -the same route afterward adopted and credited to my neighbor, Joseph Medail, of Bardonneche. A marriage which I contracted about page: 322-323[View Page 322-323] 322 FiVE MTES UNDER GROUND. - this time also dissatisfied my uncle, and he ceased to correspond with me or to sustain me. I fell into evil courses therefore, and was at last reduced so low that I became a sexton at Lanzo, and there acquired the name of Beccamorto. When the tunnel was agreed upon in 1858, my knowledge of the mountains, in both their geology and topography, became essential; but I was beggarly rewarded, although many of the most famous follies suggested were prevented by my objec- tions. But for me the engineers would have sunk shafts as long as the whole tunnel, and which would have required forty years each to complete; and I first scaled the summits to a plant the cupolas whereby the axis of the tunnel could be determined. Nevertheless, I was ungratefully considered, and when real opera- tions commenced was compelled to join one of the laboring gangs under Crisping Bacco, -on whose soul may God have mercy! "My life now became a wretched drudgery. I had thrown away its best years to no purpose: The repu- tation I hoped to gain upon this great engineering essay had been filched from me without mention or reward; but I had still a hope that in the progress of the work my chance might come, and m! employers and fellow- workmen will bear witness, in this my hour of misfor- tune, that I never lagged at the task nor missed the call to-assemble. At first I wheeled stone from the gallery to the scarp after the blastings; then I superintended :ine of the kangaroo wagons on the inclined plane; but when the water-pipe burst, after a while, and it was seen that mere laborers could not be made responsible for the scientific part of the business, I was placed by 1wVJE WMTt S UNDER GROUND. 323 the frame ('affusto), and, in conjunction with the same Crisping Bacco, drove the perforators daily from dawn to dusk. "This portion of the labor is familiar to all who have visited the tunnel. The driving power we employ is air compressed with water, which forces from separate pistons as many as nine perforators, adze-sharpened, and these drill the blasting-holes, which are afterwards - blown out with powder, and then the large fissure is again mined and exploded. The hardness of the moun- tain compelled us to change our perforators often, which were in turn sharpened at the forge without the gallery, and it always seemed to me extraordinary that no more of these perforators were kept on hand. We had in the possession of the directory no more than fifty or sixty, while the resources of all Italy were unable to construct them, and they were imported from Liege, in Belgium. "It was at this description of work that I passed more than two years; living half my time in the damp recesses of the mountain, bruised, grimy, shut from the light of day; and by night herded with the laborers in the kennels at Bardonpeche, nearly a mile in the ail^ to eat fat chamois during the agony of vinter, and to drink crude keerschwasser for a bacchanal night. :No such lonely existence can be elsewhere known; it was the Siberia of the West to all compelled to fight with the Alps for a gateway; and to me, who had known some dear professional ambition, it was doubly accursed. " i "I amused myself, however, by keeping a log of the geological formations we encountered, from the refrac- tory masses at the outlet, of mingled anthracite and I page: 324-325[View Page 324-325] 32-4 i ViE MLES UNDER GROUND. volite, to the hardest plutonic aggregations, where solid quartz fell across our axis in huge belts, and now and then, out of the porodine places, pure crystals of spar dropped in showers at the click of the pick, and the workmen carried them away to their children. "Had my mind been in the proper frame to appre- ciate the slow and painful but unprecedented route we were carving through the spine of Europe, I should have turned to account even this slavery of the mine, -and instituted a closer inquiry into the mysteries of this .great mineral deep. No such introspection had ever been afforded. With seven miles of solid barrier straight before, we had also above our heads -seven thousand feet of peak, pushed up to the farthest effort of the volcano. And two metres a day was our whole essay; we scarcely walked a main's length into the Alps after every twenty-four hours of battering and delving. "Very often I busied myself in conjectures as to what contingent things might not be ever evading or men- acing us; what rifts of silver our excavations might -miss; what deadly subterranean reservoirs we might at a moment tap ;-what temperatures we might touch, blowing from the bosom of the incandescent fire, which we have read lies close below the surface; what stag- gering gases we might set free to overwhelm us. And as I journeyed to and fro, each morn and night, be- tween the advanced gallery and Bardonneche, I fell into wild reveries of standing close to treasure imbed- ded in these mountains since the veins of gold and pre- cious ore were formed at first, and out of the earths and the oxygen flashed the perfect gems. These were FIVE MLES UNDER GROUND. 325 'bright hopes for a miserable devil of a miner getting his sixty-five sous per diem. "Once or twice I grew so discontented with my fate, as to wish ill even to this grand humanitarian enter- prise, so selfishy conducted. I have had to struggle hard to keep from gashing the air and water tubes, and once had a bad impulse to toss all the steel perforators over the cliff down into the gorges of Rochemolles, which would have delayed the work until new drills could be imported. I grew so moody at last, even when in my cups, that the name of Beccamorto, by which I went, fastened upon me even with little chil- dren; and the frame, or compound engine, to which the drills were affixed was called, when in my care, Mortu- ario (the hearse). "Now and then some gleam of mineral riches fell from the dark rock, to bring my heart to my mouth with a momentary realization of wealth; as when a stone, filled with iron sulphates, dropped under the drill and shone like an ore of gold. Now and then I picked up a few common garnets, andthits of fluorspar were. not unfrequently disclosed. "But the great event came on the sixteenth instant. I was at work with Bacco in the advance chamber, and we talked, in the pauses of the drilling, of the disappear- ance of an English traveller, Stonewold, who had been lost on the neighboring Mont Cenis, with many valua- bles in his possession,- among others, some diamonds, which were largely advertised by his friends as family heirlooms. His body had been found crushed to pieces at the bottom of the pass, and some-of his possessions were missing. The murder had been laid to the charge - page: 326-327[View Page 326-327] 326 FIVE MTLES UNDER GROUND. of the laborers on the tunnel, as we had, many, bad fell lows among us, and the hard life they led was indeed temptation to any profitable crime. Bacco, who was a cruel, greedy person, treated the alleged murder as possible-enough, and half excused the commission of it. There -were with us only two laborers, --thick-headed Piedmontese, animal enough to love drinking and sleep, but very stolid when at work, and without sympathies of any sort out of their poor, bruised carcasses. "I recall the moment well. It was close to seven o'clock; we took note of the time carefully, because at seven o'clock we should be done for the day; and, with a trifling intermission for supper, the work Would be commenced for the night by a relief party. The ad- vance chamber in which we wrought was closed by pivot doors from the complete tunnel without, where the ma- sons were bricking up the sides and the engineers lay- ing the rails; we could see, through the crevices of the gates, the lamps of gas flaming in wavy lines as far as the outlet, and our own close and rock-strewn recess with jagged ceiling and sharp-pointed sides, recently blasted, was lighted by mingled lamps of oil and gas, so that it was fitfully luminous, but damp as the caverns of the Alps could well be, made supportable only by fresh air pumped in from the reservoir at the mouth of the mine, and deluged with jets of water which inces- santly played - against the sharp tips of the perforators. In this damp chamber the crouchn5 figures of Bacco and our aids, stooping against the rock, threw prolonged and crossing shadows. upon the granitic surfaces, though the entire cavity was scarcely erect enough to permit one to stand, as it is the rule only to blast a portion of I'VE MLES UNDER GROUND. 327 the surface to be excavated, and to- complete the rest with the sledge, shovel and pick. The huge frame, propped to its place, and fed with air and water all the while, heaved from its pistons the ringing drills inces- santly, and made the excavation echo with sharp rever- berations. To drive to a sufficient depth nine paltry holes, with all the power at our command, required fifty-nine thousand five hundred blows, and as many rev- olutions of the little rotary engines behind each piston. "Suddenly Bacco stopped the engines. "' Corpo di Dio/' he said; 'three of the drills are quite crushed; we must have been pounding upon ada- mant.' "Directly the frame and engaine were withdrawn; we charged the perforators and applied our slow match, and fled behind the pivot doors for protection. "In a moment the deep concave trembled with the explosion, and the place became clogged with suffo- cating smoke. "Straightway a jet of compressed air was spirited into the recess, and the tunnel became fresh as an ice-house. We lighted the lamps immediately, and stole forward to mark the result. "A space thrice as great as a single explosion usually makes had been excavated; a great foundation rib of- primitive rock formed the bottom, and this was full of small glimmering objects, unshattered and crystallized, which dimly twinkled through the dust and debris. I lifted from the rubbish a smoothly angled lump of shining something, and brought it toward a lamp. "I am swearing to what I speak upon the Evangels. 4 ' ' ! page: 328-329[View Page 328-329] 38 !Vskv MLES UNDER G!ROUND. The crystal was a clear topaz, golden yellow in color, and as big as a pullet's egg! One of the workmen here came to me, holding some- thing in his horny palm, as big as my own great posses- sion. I dropped- the topaz with a cry. The dolt was carrying a marvellous emerald. "' We all looked into each other's faces a moment, and then the whole four rushed to the fissure; the usually dark and gray debris shone keenly here and there, and I saw in an instant that there had been some strange convulsion at this part of the mountain; all the strata- lay in this small space, crushed or bitten through with a great granitic upheaval, and the various orders had been lifted almost vertically; a coarse, micaceous sand- stone, traversed by what seemed accidental veins of quartz, lay on the left, running at its edges into a hard conglomerate which barely yielded to the blow of a pick, and by gradations of hard, argillaceous slate, the reverse side of the fissure, wonderful to say, closed with solid basalt. A distribution so much at variance with my experience was not yet without precedents, but in the intensity of the moiment I had no time to thilik; :a prostrate column of basalt, half concealed in the dust, sparkled at my feet, and as I tumbled it toward the clear light, it broke across its breadth, and disclosed the most beautiful sapphire I have ever seen, considered with regard either to its purity or its ex- ceeding regularity. At this instant one of the men who was exploring another side of the\ cavern uttered a shout: "' Dio di Sabatico/ The stone is all gold ' "I tell but what I saw. MVE MLES UNDER GROUND. 329 "Through the sandstone strayed a vein of quartz, and this was of minglred pale and metallic appearance; and the metallic places were not sulphates, as I thought at first, but almost pure gold. C"At this intelligeince my comrades went almost wild. They were poor beasts, and knew not the value of gems; but once or twice in their lives they had touched a Louis, and at the mention of gold their animal greeds burnt in their eyes till our little cloister seemed scooped out of a delirious dream; and for an instant I pressed my head in my hands to know if I were poor Pierro Tagliare indeed, or the Prince of Golconda. "My struggle ceased at a hard, hoarse word from Crisping Bacco - ' These are mine. I am the discoverer of them all; because I head the gang. Do none of you take up one stone!' "I looked at him and shuddered. His face was like a wild beast's; his fingers were crooked hard, like a cat's when she is angry. He did not weep nor embrace us at this general good fortune, but regarded us as ene- mies contesting his spoil. '"Crisping ' I said, 'are you mad? If we are to possess this wealth it must be in common, and the secret must be kept amongst us; otherwise the Crown will claim every ounce of the gold.' 'It is all mine! ' he howled, 'I am its discoverer. Stand offI' "I saw the gathering fury on the faces of our two assistants. They muttered, and their brows worked and blackened, and together they rushed upon Bacco. Before I could stir or speak he lay upon the rock, and page: 330-331[View Page 330-331] 330 fIVYE MLES UNDER GROUND. they had pounded in his skull with the very nuggets of quartz which contained the veins of gold. "When their fury abated, and the murder had been done, they stopped and breathed hard. The sight of the blood sobered them; they turned upon me. "You will betray us, Beccamorto?' "I saw that the crime they had done would engulf us all, unless I could bring my superior intelligence to bear upon these poor wretches. "' Either we must all die but one, Felice! Gaspare I' I said, 'and he live a fugitive or be hung; or we must agree to share this secret and be faithful to each other. Take up the body of Bacco, and run it to the mouth of the gallery; say that the mine exploded prematurely and killed him; then return to me.' 'I set L'affusto and all its pistons to work immedi- ately, that the directory might not suspect anything, and before the two men returned the perforators were gashing the softer slate and shale at the rate of a metre an hour. Every clip of the piston rods disengaged some new fragment, all beautiful with crystals, and giving back to the iron thud the keen ring of precious metals. Chrysoberyl laid imbedded in the coarse granite at the bottom. The black and brown Savoy- ard diamonds, which had been found in past years in the beds of the torrents, were here of a pale blue lustre, rarer than I had ever read of them, and I disengaged one fruticose cluster, of the purest water, containing seventeen. The gold quartz was also varied by the glimmer of platinum, and a shower of garnets fell thrice, some of them so big that they could not lie in the palm of my hand. FiVE MLES UNDER GROUND. 331 "I do not forget that to all this I am certifying under oath, and I need not specify when the whole truth of what I disclose will be known to-morrow to the Crown, if it be not patent already. It is enough to add that, in the thirty or forty minutes wherein my drills broke down this precious deposit in the mountain, I beheld and handled more wealth than all the cloisters of Dresden hold, or the Great Mogul guards in his treasuries. The gems that fell were larger than all precedents admitted, and of wondrous crystallization. The topaz, beryl, tourmaline, ryacolites, spinelle, and corundum, were often in the same fragment, gathered together as if hidden there years before. Sapphires, a little dull by the earths to which they were attached, and weighing three hundred carats, were common as pebbles around me. I filled my pockets with the rarest, and finding others more precious still, threw them all away and gathered and gathered, till at last my head began to reel with possession, and I sat -upon the ground, be- neath my engines, and laughed like one witless. "I did not believe one winlful of light that shone upon me from the lamps; the cold feel of a diamond in my grasp enraged me, because I believed it a decep- tion of the devil, and I threw it away with a curse. I spurned the quartz with my feet as if it were intangi- ble, and held to the light a palm filled with all lustres of worth,--metallic, adamantine, vitreous, resinous, silky, pearly; some phosphorescent, some full of strange polarization, composed with shifting pleo- chroisms, and cryrstallized from simple cubes to innu- merable facets, whereto the tretracon-teoctahedron was a plane alone; but these things were too manifest for --] page: 332-333[View Page 332-333] 32 iflVl MTTES UNDER GROUND. doubt. I considered- that, because this phase of nature was rare, and never until now disclosed to man, it need not therefore be impossible; for in the- endless laboratory of nature, my race had until now penetrated only-the portal, while I was sitting in the heart of the Alps, a mile from ally surface above or behind. I thought with a keen disappointment that perhaps even this discovery at my feet was only the outer vestibule of what we should disclose further on, where gems might be encountered which would make these present precious crystals valueless by their higher comparison, and revolutionize the riches of the woild. i' An interval of calm reminiscence succeeded. Dis- coveries as unexpected had been already made; a hundred and forty years before, at chance adventurer had tapped the diamond quarries of Brazil, and found at the same touch deposits of gold, of silver, of plati- num, with all the gems which I encountered here. In India, subsequently, the whole coast of the Indian Ocean was found to be rich in similar treasures; and so recently as 1835, Humboldt had gathered diamonds on the banks of the Adolfskoi, and from its long alluvium of gold dust had paid the debts of the Czar. "I was aroused from my reverie by the coming of my companions. They had been drinking, and their feet were unsteady; their heads wagged. They were already testifying how ill prosperity consorts with ignorance. "-In all this, I am rendering myself liable to the penalty of the law; but the crimes that I admit will not, at least, lose me my life. 1 am accused of murder. To escape its penalty, under .the pressure of strong circum- stpatial evidence, let me admit under oath that it was I FIVE MLES, UINDER GROUND. 333- who assisted in the work of destruction to the frame (L'a usto) which bores the tunnel of the Grand Vallon, with the hope of carrying off the treasures of the mine in advance of their discovery by other parties. I ordered the sharers of my secret to toss into the gorge of Rochemolles the whole stock of Belgian drills; they broke into the warehouse, and carried them off in the night; we blewthe engine frame, which blasts the rock, to pieces; work was suspended, of course, upon the grand tunnel, and we three selected our portion of the treasure and quitted the place. "The results are known; my dull companions, with no appreciation of the value of gems, left Bardonneche laden with rough nuggets of gold. Whether they annihilated each other in mutual hate of avarice, or wandered off separately and fell for their riches by other hands, I cannot determine; I have never en- countered them. For myself I selected the most valua- i. ble gems, and carefully covered the spot at the termina- tion of- the tunnel, that nmy discovery might not be immediately traced by others. Being poor and money- less I offered at Susa a portion of my gems for sale, having previously concealed the rest. ImmediatelyI fell under suspicion of being the murderer of Mr. Stone- wold, and was arrested; it is said that the diamond I offered to sell has been recognized for one of his; if this be true, the correspondence is simply accidental; I never knew of the murder, and I never laid hand upon Crisping Bacco. But, in proof of what I here charge, lead me to the advanced gallery of the water-shed, and I will guarantee in a day to produce gems which will make the prosecution of the tunnel of no advantage page: 334-335[View Page 334-335] 834 c Iarjsi M LES UNDER GROUND. compared with the enormous riches which will accrue to the Crown. If it should please his Highness, the King, to grant me, in return for these admissions, the directory of the tunnel, with simply the gems I have already secured, I shall be content. Meanwhile, I ask to be released from this terrible charge of murder, and, waiting the pleasure of his Majesty the King, I sub- scribe myself "PIERRO TAGLIARE,* In the Jail at Susa.' * The Gold Hoax was published by the "New York World " in 1865 as a veritable occurrence. When the author passed over the Mont Cenis in 1866, an English engineer told him that it had been repro- duced there, and thap many of the superstitious miners believed it true. I' eed not add that the story was an invention prepared in the Astor library as a literary recreation by the author. . t . I i "OVE AND EMULATION. 335 CHAPTER XXX,. "OVE AND EMULATION. THE defection of Applegate Shrink to his unoffend- ing sweetheart had been the result of his o'er-sensitive temperament and love of approbation, powerfully affected by outward circumstances, chief of which were his own sudden prosperity and the unfortunate rank which Gretchen held amongst those who treated him as an equal. The light allusions to her, which should have made him the more her champion, were not re- sented, because he did not wish to avow before others what they had perhaps not yet. suspected. That Agar and Colonel Redan knew of the tie between their com- panion and the young traveller was not sure, because it seemed that even honest Max was ignorant of it; as Gretchen with her good discretion and silent self- counsel had wished to protect Applegate from possible injury. The real situation was this: Our hero had yielded to his ambition and slighted his love, and while he hesitated, the gray eyes of Miss Redan had fallen into the scale. He was, without doubt, behaving badly; but as he grew more wicked he grew more unlike his retiring self, and qualities he had never before suspected, developed out of the changed relations of his nature. Guilt had hardened - IS page: 336-337[View Page 336-337] 336 LOVE AND EMULrATION. him. iAnd, as it often happens, in this wavering time of honor, fortune, like a bad angel's temptations, was showered upon the culprit. After a week he received this --letter from the editor of the London paper to which Colonel Redan had written:-- "MR. APPLEGATE SHRINK: "You may send us some letters upon Italian politics, leaning toward the most compassionate side of impartiality, in favor of the liberal party. -We will pay eight guineas per letter, and will advise you if we should be dissatisfied." Applegate felt impelled to exhibit this letter to both Agar and Margaretha; but acting under the new con- ditions of his mind, he suppressed the impulse, and kept the affair doggedly to himself. That same day he repaired to a clothier's, and purchased a new portman- teau, which he filled with new clothing, amongst the rest an entire Court suit, semi-military, with a laced cocked hat, abundant gimp and buttons, and a side- sword. Repairing to the American Minister in Turin, he exhibited- his passport and his credentials, as a journalist for America as well as England, and asked to be provided with a-presentation at the Italian Court. The Minister promised to attend to the matter at once, and for the rest of the day -Applegate took sabre in- structions from Max at a retired place on the Capuchin Mount, which is the nearest eminence to the city, and is at once lofty and embowered. He had proposed to sever his relations with Mr. Oates at the first conven- ient opportunity; but this might have separated him from all the party, and, besides, he could not bear to LOVE: AND EMULATION. 337 quit Bolivar, who still heard the drums all the days beating and booming, as he lay in bed, loving chiefly to have stories told him of the war, by the negro Bal- boa, or by Max, or some of the others, and his feeling of affection for Margaretha grew very strong, so that if she left his room the drumming and the din of battle became insufferable to him. It was a relief to Apple- gate that his former love was so engaged, because it saved him from the sore constraint of standing often in her presence, a convicted recreant to his vows; and he endeavored to teach himself that perhaps it was Gretchen's fault that he had gone astray, because she herself had predicted it. The Redan party in due time received their card for the King's reception, and by the same post came a card to Applegate. Mrs. Oates had asked the Con- tractor to apply for invitations; but that resolute little gentleman had answered :- "Not while Bolly hears the: drums, my dear. I should be afraid, if we left him, and something hap- pened while we were making ourselves miserable in the palace, that I would hear the bassest sort of drums to the end of my days." "Nonsense!" cried Mrs. Oates; " kings, I hev hearn tell can cure diseases merely by teching a person. I'll go with the Redans, and get the King to tech me, and then I'll tech Bolivar; so it will be all the same." Mrs. Oates therefore applied in person to the Min- ister to find a card; but he had severe doubts about her fitness to represent America before the House of Savov, and refused her condignly. Applegate kept his secret to himself, ordered a car- i 15' -e * :3 page: 338-339[View Page 338-339] 838 LOVE AND EMULATION. riage during the afternoon of the day for the presenta- tion, and after dinner he arranged himself in his Court dress. It fitted him to perfection, and standing in its gold and braid, under his satin-lined chapeau, he looked the equal of any courtier, and he made up his mind to bear out the character with confidence. As he glanced out into the court of the hotel, he saw the fine equipage of Colonel Redan dash up, with Balboa standing behind it for a footman, gorgeously attired, and Max upon the box. Colonel Redan came out in a rich Zouave uni- form, leading his ward, :who had never looked so divine, in her long silken robe and bare arms and neck, and there was the light of enjoyment upon her face. "She is happier as she is higher! I he said to him- self. "I love her with fear." So saying, Applegate was stopped short by seeing Gretchen, in her simple drab gown, holding up the train of Miss Red'n, and bearing a look of undisturbed content. Though so plainly dressed, the beauty of her form and the purity and health of her face affected him, despite his wish; for an instant he looked at her with the old flutter of perfect love. Then he saw her pass a fan and a cloak to the carriage, and the contrast betwgen the mistress who commanded, and the servitor who obeyed, filled his disloyal heart with a sense of injury. (t How can she wonder that my love is shaken when she does not hesitate' to wound my pride?" he thought. "She thrusts before me, she compels me to see the superior graces of Agar. She drives me upon my des- tin y. The carriage dashed away, and Applegate, acting - * . .. "OVE- AND EMULATION. 339 under the spur of his offended spirit, hastily descended the stairs to confront his affianced. "Whatever happens," he said, "she must return to Bingen. If she remains here, in this menial capacity, the last strand which holds her to me must snap." He found Mr. and Mrs. Oates in their parlor, the Contractor ciphering, the lady using a smelling-bottle, and in a very bad humor over her rejection from the Kino's levee. "Hity tity!" she cried, looking up; "gracious heavens! What is this?" "It is I," said Applegate, respectfully. "I am going to the Court." "The jail, I should reckon," cried Mrs. Oates, "judging by them clothes. Why! Mr. Oates, look at our courier, getting ahead of his betters. How did you come by a ticket, Sir Shrink?" "The King's Chamberlain, madame, sent it to me, through our Minister!". Mrs. Oates made a duck for her smelling-bottle, and burst into tears. "Oh! this indignity that hez been put off upon us!" she whimpered; "our servant invited to the palace and we refused. It is too much! It is a disgrace to the American flag. I shall never survive it." "It is a good thing for the country," said Mr. Oates, "which took the cor.: act in its constitution to be no respecter of persons. The Minister saw- that Applegate would be a credit to the nation, Mrs. Oates, and that perhaps you wouldn't. I think none the less of him." "Do you hear Titus Oates?" cried Mrs. Oates, addressing something toward the ceilingp, with clasped page: 340-341[View Page 340-341] 340 LOVE AD' EMULATION. hands, "-is it writ down ag'in him, omniscient Pontiffs? -He thinks his wife no better than his lacquey! How does this young man- come by his sword and uniform? Whose money was it? But yesterday he was poor as Job's turkey; now he is dressed like an ostrich!" "Mrs. Oates," replied Applegate, with serene con- tempt, "I wish to leave you without an uncivil word. I cannot afford not to be a gentleman. Whenever your husband desires it, - now, if he wishes, - I will quit his service. The money which was taken from me at Ant- werp has been returned threefold. I have accepted an engagement with a London journal, which is to occupy all my time. The garments I wear are mine, honestly obtained." "To that I would swear t " cried Mr. Oates, cheer- fully. "I rejoice, my boy, in your luck. Heretofore your talent has been greater than your luck. They, can never be less than equal. Go in and win!" "You have been my good friend!" answered Apple- gate. "Be mine!" continued Mr, Oates. "Bear with my wife, unitil, until --the drums beat the long roll for my poor, dying boy!" He filled at the eyes, and so did Applegate, and they clasped hands cordially. Mrs. Oates gave a long whimper, and said that such a day had never set upon the house of Smith of Tuckapuck. Not less incensed than when he had first set out to find her, Applegate hastened to Bolivar's room, and appeared before Margaretha in all the splendor of his -apparel. She looked up in the pause of a story she "OVE AND EMULATION. 341 was telling the lad, and, recognizing him at once, said, softly: - "Hush I he will sleep soon." Bolivar lay with his eyes wide open, and one hand raised to his ear as if to keep out sound, while with the other ear he listened to Gretchen's stories. She was trying in vain to turn his mind, from the warlike sub- jects in which he delighted, to tales of piety and pity; but the boy grew impatient when these soft topics were broached, and signified his thirst -for rougher themes and scenes. Sitting there, patient and beautiful over this crude, gnarled, ill-educated boy, she looked to Applegate like that Lady Clare in the poem of Marmi- on, soothing the fallen knight, who yet heard ever the notes of the lost battle. At last the thin, scarred hand fell to the boy's side, and the drums moved farther off, so that he only heard them in his disturbed dreams. Gretchen turned about and looked up at her false lover with a sweet, sad expression- "O my friend," she said; "what a- wayward being is man, even from his cradle I This boy is dying like a savage. All his good traits are savage virtues; his occupation is destruction." "That is the spirit of our race," answered the other, e to clear a continent, to make it habitable; the age of woman will come afterwards. But you do not notice my new garb?" I You look like a Prince," she said; , none will be so handsome at the Court, where, I suppose, you are going. But here is a rent. Let me mend it." She took her needle and walked around him, putting a stitch here and there. Then, with her brush, she page: 342-343[View Page 342-343] 342 LOVE AND EMULATION. moistened his hair, and rendered it more interesting. He felt her hands upon his temples and neck, and like a better magnetism they led him almost to love her entirely again. He took her head between his palms, and, pressing it back softly, looked into her eyes:-- "'Margaretha," he said, "I hate to see you in this subordinate place, the companion merely of another, not more good nor more beautiful than yourself. Do you not rebel in your heart?" "Why, no!" she said, surprised. "You know I am paid for it." "It is that which makes it menial; it is the constant apprehension that my sweetheart is beneath some one, and that other one my equal, which annoys me. Have you no pride?" "Yes; but I hope it is a true pride. I am proud of you. I am proud to keep the word I have spoken. But it is not humiliating to take the money one has earned, nor to work when one is poor." "It is dreadfully humiliating to me," he answered, recoiling from the unintended upbraidal of her words; "it hurts me; it burns me!" "'Why, love," she said; "who has worked harder than yourself, or submitted more bravely to sore trials, and even to undeserved insult? I thought to earn something to add to yours. You know that I am very poor." "I have met better fortune," he cried, with more exasperation; " my money has been returned to me by the thief who stole it. An honorable pursuit has been opened to me by the good services of Agar and Colonel Redan. I am liberated!" "OVE AND EMULATION. 343 She heard him with a face wherein the apprehension grew wider and lighter each instant, reading his blushes and his rage with her clear eye of searching candor. "You are free," she said, slowly, " and you are in- toxicated with your freedom. Wild hopes possess you. I seem to see another man, an older man, a bolder man, perhaps; but not that one, simple and steadfast, who lay in my lap when we crossed the ocean, and made me love him for his helplessness." "Perhaps I am not the same," he answered. "I feel changed in more than mere circumstances. My char- acter, my nature, have felt the shock." '( And your heart, Applegate?" He answered with reluctance and evasion-:- "It is to keep that sincere that I would have you give up this subservient occupation. Go back to Bing- en; for I fear we shall have no chance to be intimate while you are the servant of the ward of Colonel Redan!" "Go back to Bingen?" she said. "Quit my occupa- tion? Quit you? O dear one, I came only to be near you! If you should not speak to me for months, and I could see you, it would be all that I would ask." "You must return," said Applegate, "if you wish to- make the future smooth. Go, and I feel that it will be right in the end. Stay, and I cannot tell the conse- quences." She looked up, almost piteously, and for the first time as if his were the older head, and he the Master. "Dear love," she pleaded, " these lands are new and beautiful to me. My life is easy, and I walk near you, which makes Italy tenderer yet. My'brother is here. i page: 344-345[View Page 344-345] 844 LOVE AND EMULATION, You have suffered nothing in fortune since I came. Are you not sending away your star, Applegate?"i tIt will shine at Bingen," he answered, moodily. 'You must go! I am obdurate!" Gretchen's eyes filled with tears. "Very well," she said; "your will is my law. I will obey, when this poor boy needs me no more. Rough as he is, Applegate, he wishes me to stay by his side. You drive me away!" She covered her face with her hands and wept, si- lently. Applegate felt that he was a wretch to make those pure eyes dim. He drew her to his breast and kissed her. l "Gretchen, forgive me! I do not comprehend my- self. I feel that I am wicked to have grieved you so cruelly. You are too worthy for me." She looked up and wiped her tears away. "You are the same, Applegate! My faith is strong as ever; my love can feel no wrong, if it do not wrong itself. Go to the palace, and I, like Cinderella, will sit at home and sing, confident that my Prince will some day seek me." PRESENTED TO THE KING, 345 CHAPTER XXXTL PRESENTED TO THE KING. WITH a reckless feeling Applegate threw himself into his carriage, and, traversing the broad piazza of the Castle, entered the palace yard between pacing sentries, and saw the great bronze twins, Castor and Pollux, rein up their steeds against the light of the illuminated win- dows. At the entrance to the palace he descended, and passing up a broad stairway, faced with statues on foot and horseback of the Dukes of Savoy, trod a spacious guard-room, superbly painted. Here he met the Miu- ister of the United States, and Agrar-and Colonel Redan; they had been talking about him as it seemed; for the Minister, turning to greet Applegate, said:-- "I told you he would be here. I think, Colonel Re- dan, that we need not fear to match Young America with the best of their ancient blood." "This is a surprise, Shrink," cried the Colonel; "but you look well in any dress, and this one becomes you like an officer his uniform." "I congratulate you, sir," said Agar, with an indica- tlon of high color, and an arch expression in her gray eye; "it is not often, at Court, that an American can take pride in her countrymen. They show much bet- ter in more practical places. But to-night you look your best." page: 346-347[View Page 346-347] 346 PRESENTED TO THE KING. He made a feeble effort, with the image of weeping Gretchen in his mind, to resist anid to be composed. He saw Agar, slender and tall, rising from her richly laced, robes of white silk, and the blood in every vein ebbing and flowing beneath her neck, around which fell a necklace of diamonds. Her arms were bare; she wore one white rose in her hair. He looked and yielded. 'I have met the Quben in the anteroom," he said in a low tone; " it was for you only that I came here, and you were never so beautiful." "I like your compliments," answered Agar, "for I have a fancy that you believe them, and no one is above praise." The Minister now received instructions from a cham- berlain that the King was ready to receive the Ameri- cans, and the little party moved forward through the saloon of the pages to the throne room. It was a noble gathering of the most illustrious Ital- ians, as well as of the resident ambassadors and for- eigners of distinction, and it took all"Applegate's pres- ence of mind to show composure in the midst of so many beautiful women and distinguished men. He pressed forward, through hundreds of richly uniformed officers, through bishops, and nobles, and folks of state, till he stood at the foot of the throne in the presence of the King, and dropped his eyes before the glance of that Victor Emmanuel, whom Garibaldi had decorated with the appropriate title of Re Galantuomo, the gal- lant King. In the very prime of life, dark, and swarthy of mustache, eyebrows and hair, he bore the look of a resolute soldier, but gave little indication of either breadth of mind or character. Fifteen years before, PRESENTED TO THE KING. 347 he had received the doubtful crown of Sardinia from his broken-hearted father on the field of defeat; but by the address of-his Prime Minister Cavour, by the ad- ventures of Garibaldi, and by the enthusiastic support of the whole population of Italy, he had widened the boundaries of his little State until it stood at present amongst the great powers of Europe, and this swarthy gentleman had become the favorite monarch of hi period. The Minister, ushered forward by the chamberlain, presented the little party to his dark Majesty. To Agar the King bowed, with a visible expression of admira- tion; to Colonel Redan and Applegate he gave his hand frankly. "The first guest America ever had would have been one of my subjects had he lived in my time," said the Sovereign, with a smile and a twist of his mustache. "I am always glad to see Americans return the visit." "This gentleman is a frequent visitor, sire," said the Minister, indicating Colonel Redan; "he was the first and largest foreign contributor to the Sicilian expedi- tion. He led a storming party at the gates of Palermo, i and organized the quartermaster's department that com- forted victory on the march to Naples." "But that Colonel Redan was an Englishman," said the King. "It is the same, your Majesty; Englishman and American. He went to our country to embark capital in our railways and improvements, and ended by es- pousing our cause." The King smiled. "I did not know such dangerous people meant to en- page: 348-349[View Page 348-349] 348 PftESEN'TED TO THE KING. ter my State when I abolished the passport system. You, then, Colonel, were one of the secret instigators of that unauthorized act of piracy which the Count Cavour and myself labored religiously to discourage?" The King spoke with raised eyebrows, and with af- fected sternness, so that all the party laughed while he talked. Others gathered around the foot of the throne to note this prolonged interview of strangers with a Sovereign generally taciturn, and curious to see what theme could make Victor Emmanuel so merry. "You, Colonel Redin, were the foreigner, admitted to the hospitality of Savoy and Genoa, who had the temerity to break the peace of nations, to equip an expedition in our waters, and to conspire against the life and reign of my brother of the -Two Sicilies? You gave money, counsel, comfort and hope to that auda- cious handful without a country, which marched from Marsala to Salerno-, and liberated twelve millions of Italians. Mischief-maker! Apostle! What punishment can I mete out to you, except giving this beautiful lady, your friend, my arm, and making her known to some of our Italians?" The hearty manner of the King made alln evident im- pression upon the people of the Court and the stran- gers, and there were many present who recognized in Colonel Redan's name that of the wealthy English' banker who, to his liberality and enthusiasm for Italy, had added the practical administrative sagacity of his race, and made the celebrated expedition of Garibaldi, in 1860, successful by his precautions in transportation and supplies. Applegate looked up at his one-armed friend with renewed admiration; but the Colonel's eyes PRESENTED TO THE KING. 349 were following his ward, as like a queen she leaned upon the royal arm, and the brilliant crowd made way for them to pass. "Beautiful girl!" said the Colonel, musingly in Eng- lish; "there is not one wearing a coronet who has her grace or her blood. It is the king who is honored-- not Agar!" Applegate also followed the slender, high-born woman, thus distinguished beyond all the ladies of Italy; but his cheeks were cold and his mind was calm. He felt that she was rarely beautiful, and heard,all round about her praises spoken involuntarily by the courtiers. Did he love her? he said to himself. Was it loveto yearn so high and toward that which was so cold? Like a, grace- ful sea-gull she seemed to him, which fills the wishes of the eye with its virgin whiteness, yet chills the heart like snow itself. "I wonder," thought Applegate, as his gaze grew absent, "if ambition, in some of its manifestations, does' not mistake itself for love?" - He was called out of his momentary reverie by Colonel Redan, who introduced him to a group of dis- j tinguished Italians that had pressed forward to greet the benefactor of their country, on hearing the King pronounce his name. The first was Cialdini, a fiery soldier born from the common people, full of wounds I and honors, Aide-de-camp to the King and Senator. Thirty years ago he was a poor vagabond litterateur in Paris, eking out the bitter bread of a refugee by trans- lating for the booksellers. He broke from this life to be, by choice, a common soldier of the line in Portu- gal. In six years he was a Spanish captain; in four f? i page: 350-351[View Page 350-351] 350 PRESENTED TO THE KIG. more he was a Spanish colonel, and after seventeen years' exile he hastened to Turin to join the army of Italian deliverance under the Father of Victor Emman- uel. Then he was a General in Sardinia, a humiliator of the Pope, and at last, unwillingly, as Applegate hoped, he commanded the countrymen of Garibaldi who fired upon that hero. Near Cialdini stood in a little group the aristocrat and soldier, La Marmora, tall and gray, in his sixtieth year; Persano, the sailor, who was to lose the prestige of his race upon the sea, in the fiuture battle of Lissa, and Menebrea, who was to make the final peace between Austria and Italy. By all these Applegate was re- ceived with the favor which the popularity of Colonel Red6n gave, and General Cialdini, hearing that he was a journalist, felt the sympathy of his old profession, and pointed out to him the representative personages of the Court. Applegate was thus made almost imme- diately at-ease, and the splendid carvings and paintings of the ceiling, the magnificent and varied dresses of the many hundred officers, officials, and peers upon the floor, the richness of the canopied throne, and the superb appointments of the palace impressed him no more than his uncle's drawing-room in New York; for his spirit was at rest, and he felt that these great per- sonages surrounding royalty were only men and women after all. With that disingenuousness which was the charm of his manner, Applegate said to Cial- dini : - "General, I have never been presented to a King before. It is scarcely more frigid than the levee of one of our American Governors." PRESENTED TO THE KING. 351 "All people are nearly alike in this age," said the General; " and you Americans have no idea of that per- sonal loyalty, which makes the atmosphere around a European King. To us he typifies the whole state in his single person, as an image conveys to a good Catholic the entire comprehension of Heaven's Provi- dence and Power. But often out of your very fresh- ness and irreverence iyou carry off the palm from courtiers. By the way, call you tell me the name of that superb creature yonder? It is whispered about that she is an American." Applegate followed Cialdini's eye, and beheld a most splendid pair of arms and a fine white bust, which seemed to attract very many of the officers and men; their possessor was elegantly but rather lavishy dressed, and she looked to be the perfection of vital and animal beauty. "I do know that lady, distantly," he ans wered; her name is Kent. What officers are those who engage her?" "One of them I know: Bruck, who holds a good military rank under the Austrians, but a better social one. He used to be on the Kaiser's staff, and he is a favorite of Benedek, the Austrian Field Marshal. It 4 is rather presuming, and not very delicate for him to be here, as we are not recognized by Franz Joseph. But I perceive by his attire that he is under the pro- tection of the Portuguese Minister. The King's daughter is Queen of Portugal, as you are aware. If you know that lady, favor me with a presentation. A soldier never loses the taste for a fine figure." Applegate felt no great desire to renew his acquaint- 1,i- page: 352-353[View Page 352-353] 352: PRESENTED TO THE KING. ance with Miss Kent; for her enigmatical conduct at Basle occurred to him as he looked at her, round and rosy, with a man's spirit looking out of her voluptuous body. But he owed her only kind treatment, and he hastened to oblige the Italian. Miss Kent received him with an impetuous candor, wherein no trace of petulance remained, and at once - presented to him Baron Bruck and Captain and Aide- de-camp Hilt. Applegate looked up into the latter's face, and rec- ognized in the tall, florid, imposing officer in nonde- script uniform his late pedestrian acquaintance, Holt, the -Englishman. Overwhelmed with amazement to see how frequently his fellow-passengers of the steamship had been fated to cross his track, our hero quite forgot whether he had ever indicated Holt or Hilt to Miss Kent as the person who robbed him at Antwerp. It occurred to him that in the inn-yard, at Hastings, he had heard Holt addressed by their lunatic co-voyageur as Ben Hilt; but this only deepened the mystery of that ad- venturer. Yet little mystery there seemed about the Englishman now, as he stood, stalwart and strong, wearing the old light, trivial, trifling face, never earnest except when at infrequent times it caught fire of some wayward suggestion and grew direct and dark. Applegate had often thought Holt handsome and accomplished; but to-night he seemed to dignify his new condition, and his conversation had the polished diction and the suavity of a diplomatist. He stood taller and handsomer than the Austrian officer, who listened to his light, but pungent, criticisms with a ,PRESENTED /TO THE KING. 353 German's undemonstrative delight; but while the Austrian's face had the coldness of his race and profes- sion, there was a self-assured, responsible undercur- rent in his manner and bearing which forced Apple- gate to respect him while he disliked him. Holt had the magnetism of talent without content or rank, and to Applegate, who had tested the virtue of his profes- sions, he seemed to charm best when he purposed to sting. As Applegate looked over the three, and caught their several recognitions, he saw that Miss Kent met his eye with some sense of concern, as if unwilling that he should read her too narrowly. Holt exchanged with Applegate a look half of warning, half of appeal; but as the last few days had'given our hero new conceptions of himself, he returned Holt's menace with direct defiance, and with no less bold sincerity he looked the Baron Bruckjin the face, and said:-- "Austria can accept hospitality from Italy, Baron, i without recognizing her. At least, it seems so to- night. Some day, perhaps, it will be Austria's turn to i crave recognition of Italy." "Italy is only a geographical term," said Holt. I "That's all!" - "I exchanged my uniform for the same reason you i have changed yours to-night," said Bruck, with evident reference to Applegate's couriership; "there was a lady in the case." IThey both followed Agar with their embittered I looks. , "Oh! fie! Mr. Shrink," cried Miss Kent. "You i had a sweetheart on the ship. Have you forgotten ' poor Gretchen?'" i - * flc A, page: 354-355[View Page 354-355] 354 PRESENTED TO THE KING. Applegate felt rebuked to anger. "I have had many tempters," he said, as a retort. "True!" she answered, candidly; "and I was one of them. I shall never be ashamed that I was fond of you, my countryman." Applegate felt yet more rebuked for his ill-grace to a lady, but ere he could speak, Holt said:- "Is if possible that you were co-voyageurs? In what part of the world, pray?" Holt's eyes were fixed upon Applegate with dark meaning in them. Miss Kent hastened to explain the circumstances of their first acquaintance; but she made no' mention of their different grades of passage upon the vessel. "What name did that presuming person bear who treated you so shamefully, Applegate?" she said. "Do you know that he always suggested to me Captain Hilti here? "Oh I no," answered Applegate. "There is no re- semblance between my old and trusted fellow pedes- trian and this gentleman." It was plain "that Miss Kent had not identified Cap- tain Hilt as Holt, the tramp. "Your young countryman," said Bruck, with cold politeness, "gets as much sympathy as Sardinia here." "And-more recognition," spolte Miss Redan, coming forward. "Applegate, will you promenade with me?" There was nothing for the Baron to do but to give Miss Kent his arm, and Hilt, left apart, re-introduced himself to Cialdinfi, and was soon the centre of a knot of officers and courtiers, whom he amused by his mingled flippancy and intelligence. PRESENTED TO THE KING. 355 The belles of the evening were, without doubt, the two Americans, so unlike, but each, after her descrip- tion, so exquisite. Miss Kent was attractive; liss Redan was noble. Applegate saw many a dark-eyed Lombard or Neapolitan follow the bright eye and the complexion, like the rind of the peach, of Miss Kent; but the ladies and the elder men were more regardful of Miss Redan, and since the King had treated her with high consider- ation, Applegate came under general observation as Agar's choice. She had left the arm of the Sovereign to lean upon him. It was noble of her, and he felt the delicacy of the compliment. Truly she loves me," he said to himself. They strolled from saloon to saloon, little heeding the rich robes and adornments round about them; for Applegate felt the snares of this new passion compass him more than ever, and he was resolved to know the extent of his influence over Miss Redan. They turned at last into the lighted galleries of paintings and armor, i which make the daily spectacle of the Turinese, but are on rare occasions opened as a place of promenade for the Court, and here, almost alone, they walked through defiles of hollow breastplates ; past shells of steel taking the form of men and armed cap-a-pie, as in the ; feudal period; past effigies in engraven brass, mounted on motionless horses, and with their lances at rest as i if in the gallop of the battle they had heard the trump of the mighty angel and stopped midway, forever. By the dimmer lights of this long armorial gallery the - monstrous shadows of knights and squires trembled upon the floor, as if the hollow armor had the power of motion but not of sound, and while these surroundings T page: 356-357[View Page 356-357] 356 PRESENTED TO THE KING. deepened the solemnity of their feelings, they sat down beneath an equestrian effigy, riding in full tilt, with his battle-axe suspended over their heads. ( You see that I paid you no compliment," said Agar, "when I praised your appearance to-night. I have proved it by wishing your graces to be reflected upon me." "You have only encouraged presumption," said Ap- plegate; "while I thank you, I am discontented; it is yourself which has brought me to this novel height. Can you love 9" "Not so precipitately as you ask," she said, looking at him now almost with composure. "You could scarcely expect to win a peasant girl by such vehe- mence. You are not my first wooer." "Your heart will never yield to a siege, Miss Agar. My attack is like my passion, - a surprise, an onset." "I do not wish to revive disagreeable episodes," said Agar, with a sober look, and showing a practical Eng- lish nature in her gray eyes; " but one should think, as well as love. What are your prospects? What career have you in view worthy of me? It is not of money only that I speak; it is not of talents. It is of the breadth of your purpose, the nature of your thoughts. He whom I marry must have ambition, and not for passive nor trivial matters. Though he soar upon the quill of a goose, his circuit must be wide as the eagle's. If he choose to be an author, it must not be in the turn-. pike way, the drudge of a daily journal, nor yet in the sequestered retreats of pleasant household composition. He must be like Hugo or Rousseau,- a spirit amongst -PRESENTED TO THE KING. 357 the spirits of his time, speaking, as the Scriptures say, like one having authority, and not as the scribes. " He felt his littleness in all its reality as she spoke. The illusion' passed from his dream like a mirage from the desert. Peaks, castles and battlements disappeared in the sand. He was a "tramp" again, with a paltry few hundred francs in his pocket. His clothes and his sword mocked him, and he felt that he was a cheat amidst all this splendor of a Court. "I knew that you were proud, Miss Redan," he said; "but it is not ambition that you express. It is do- minion. If this were the age of Zenobia you might find a hero of your type." \, "Be not discouraged," she answered, mildly. "I mean that the man I love must have a high soul. See this! It is a portrait of my father, the cousin of Colo- nel Redan. 'I barely remember him, bult I revere him. He was of a high lineage and a restless nature. 'No family in England is older, and the honor of it never suffered a stain. He came of a race of inspirers, - men I with the means and magnetism of impressing their prac- tical views upon others, and so moving the conditions I of peoples and times. I will not tell you how much of English development in commerce, colonies, staples, and mechanics bore association with our family. My i guardian inherits that instinct, as his encouragement of you may instance." it Applegate looked at the portrait closely. -It showed a soldierly looking man, resembling Colonel Redan, { but without the mild countenance of the latter, and of a more impetuous expression; yet parts of the lower " face -indicated self-love and perhaps indolent good- i page: 358-359[View Page 358-359] 358.- - PRESENTIED TO THE KING. nature. It was a face of power, without doubt, but there were a few lines of restraint in it. The por- trait suggested some other person, whom Applegate could not recall. He seemed to have seen the man alive, somewhere. "What I have to say to you," continued Agar, "is, that I sometimes think I have the family power to arouse other natures, and that those whom I move mistake the earnestness I have given them for love. Can this be the mistake with you, Applegate?" She reached out and took his hand in her slender palm, and he looked into her fine eyes, gray and dewy as an English dawn, and into her face so rare and earnest, set. round with her necklace like a portrait in diamonds. "To love you," he said, "is to feel emulation, of course. When one loves a queen it is with the thought of reigninc as well- as of serving. But I could not have felt the contact of you, in every fibre, as I do now at the touch of your hand, unless it was passion." "Test it," whispered Agar; " try it by other tender- nesses. Have you ever loved before?" I He stammered, and trembled. "I thought I did once," he said, with a guilty effort. "I was wrong." "Prove it further," she whispered again; " have you any methento or pledge of that other affection which is dear to you? If you have, dare you part with it? Give it to me." A pang and a blush came to him together. He carried in his watch-caie-embroidered by her hand --the little metallic stiletto, the virgin gift of PRESENTED TO THE KING. 359 Gretchen. She had said to him: "It is a sign that a German maid has entrusted her honor to another. My friend, it is yours." "You waver," said Agar. "I told you so! You do not love me." He felt her hand grasp his the closer. The mag- netism of her face drew him on. The image of his peasant sweetheart, saiging through her tears, came an instant to his conscience. Then, feeling like a traitor, he drew the gifts of betrothal from his pocket and gave them to Agar. : "IDo you surrender with these the hope that they represent?" "I do." "You give them and their memories to me, without reservation?" "I must." Agar released Applegate's hand. "This is strength," she said, "or love." He was afraid to pause, lest he might reconsider and be lost. He drew her in his arms, and she scarcely resisted him. He kissed her, and she yielded. "If you do not love me now," he whispered, "I am an abandoned man in a lonely land again." At this moment steps were heard approaching, and voices in collision. Two persons came near the spot where Agar .and Applegate sat concealed, and the I latter recognized them as those of Colonel Redan and Holt. "Why have you returned to these haunts of Europe, which you must long ago have exhausted by folly and intrigue?" spoke the voice of Colonel Redan. "Your page: 360-361[View Page 360-361] Jl .J1.LE aJJ-MOi nJoJL..JA J r m. ISJL-.U .AX* friends had given you all that you asked. You prom- ised to lead a new and a purer career in America. You can do no worse to us than to stain our good name, and make us witnesses of your ruin." "There's that to be said," answered Holt, in his trifling way; " but you might let a fellow follow his own bent, who came into the world by no request of his. It grew too deuced warm for me in America. I took a commission on one side of the war there, and dis- tinguished myself. Being unstable, as you know, I went over to the other side, and was called a good officer. Some little correspondence which I tried to conduct between the rival camps put. my neck in danger. So I slipped away, poor as a rat, in the rat part of a steamer. But for a moonstruck Yankee boy, who was coming to the Old World to walk around it, and who had too much small silver for such a Quix- otic purpose, I should finally have starved to death." "And you have extorted more money from those in England who have too much reason to be ashamed of you?" Exactly It was fit that they should take care of their semi-responsibilities. So I prevailed upon them to find me a commission in the service of his Kaiser- ship, Franz Joseph. Here I am, a captain close to the person of Benedek himself. There are chances for war, and I shall behave with the family courage, if not always with the family virtue." Holt laughed dryly, here, and the Colonel groaned. "Unhappy boy!"he said, " what you were it was not in your power to-control. But what you have become is in despite of all retribution and pity on the part of those you continue to afflict. Can nothing be done to amend your errantry? Speak, if there be anything undone that it is in our power to contribute." { "I ask nothing of you," said Holt, "but that I shall I not encounter your opposition. The stigma that you i and yours have put upon my birth need not be made, by your exposure, to pursue me into these lands, and { affect the social place I hold as a preferred officer of the Austrian staff. I am backed by such a power as would make you incredulous if I were indiscreet enough to name it to you. I am an international politician, a i j diplomatist." i: He laughed again, in his old lioht, jesting, self-in- credulous way, and again the Colonel groaned. "Forever on the same dark, insidious errands, Ben- jamin!" he said; " mingling genius with craft, and cour- i age with treachery. But you can harm none dear to :s me. We who walk in the light of day, and by the course prescribed to us by conscience, need never fear that any act of yours can compromise us. Go where you like, do what you will. I am not your enemy." j "Nor am I yours," cried Mr. Holt; "although a dis- i honored childhood and a life detached from my hearth and the sympathies of my kindred might inspire me to : plague you all. I choose what I choose. The world i is bagatelle. There is nothing legitimate that rules in Europe. I know of myself what half the people sus- . pect of their kings. I am a-" i "Speak it not!" whispered the Colonel. "I do not wish to see you humiliate yourself." Applegate could deduce from the smothered ejacula- tions of Holt, and the earnestness with which he paced 16 J page: 362-363[View Page 362-363] the gallery, that he was moved by powerful feelings. He strode from the shadows, of the things in armor out into the clearer light, and Applegate, looking into his working face, which displayed at once grief and indig- nation, saw stamped there the likeness he had striven in vain to assimilate to that of the portrait upon the breast of Agar Redan. Her boast of a moment before passed like a quick apprehension through his memory: "No family in England is older, and the honor of it never suffered a stain." Agar grasped Applegate's hand, and drew close to him as to a protector. "What crime, what man, is this?" she whispered, "who dare speak so boldly to my guardian?" It was indignation she expressed, and her whole frame shook with the enmotion. The old, dry laugh of Holt fell upon the silence. "Pardon me," cried Holt, "I never was earnest ill my life before, and now by mistake. What I meant to ask of you was that you should not forbid me accompany- ing your party to Milan and Lugano. The fact is, I have/a game to play with Baron Bruck. He stands high with Benedek, and can advance-my interests in the Austrian service. He is desperately smitten with your ward, and purposes to join you for al fortnight. It is my private belief that he has not a particle of chance, for, between us,' Agar is exceedingly soft upon that lit- tle vagabond hotel minion and tramp, Applegate Shrink. But here comes Bruck, -talking of the devil, you know, - and I must get away." The Colonel and Holi strode off down the gallery arUlcENTlED TO THE KING. 363 together, and Applegate, stung to rage, was surprised by the youngo German, sitting at the side of his flame. The countenance which Bruck wore, bore the inter- pretation that he thought Applegate an upstart, who : had wheedled his way into the charity and forbearance of Miss Redan; and as Bruck had endeavored in vain, after a long flirtation, and after exhausting his social and military opportunities in Vienna, Trieste, and Ven- ice to carry off her hand, he took it as an affront that, in this provincial city of Savoy, where there was no l rival, his equal, to oppose him, Miss Redan should prefer to his addresses those of a civilian, a lad, and, as he supposed, an adventurer. It is strange that the word Adventurer should be so perverted. Soldiers, who are professional adventur- ers, apply it to men of literature. Journalists and authors kill each other with it. Whoever is new is an i adventurer. But as everything was once new, it fol- lows that the originator of every long-lived thing must have been himself an adventurer. Any true man, therefore, who feels that he has either right or strength, accepts the title with some approximate as- surance to that of Columbus, or David, or Paul. A generation can distort the meaning of a word, but time will define it correctly; and therefore Applegate, who had been a truer adventurer when he was in his true part of a pedestrian and Gretchen's lover, now read the term on Baron Bruck's face and looked back the epi- ithet of Mercenary! He believed Bruck to be a cold, unfeeling " Hessian,"- in the American sense of Hes- sian,--a German aristocrat without estate, and an officer without human kindness, whose desire for Agar's -V, page: 364-365[View Page 364-365] 364 PRESENTEDO T THE KING. hand was that of a European for an American girl's marriage portion, claiming his title and rank to be more than a match for her beauty and fortune. This thought, of itself, nettled our hero, and he resolved in his heart, to make Bruck feel, if a proper time came, that the countrymen of Agar Redan could meet competition on any field, and extinguish lineage by offering it a choice of weapons with n adventurer. , Bruck was too mathematical and phlegmatic, how- ever, to read all this in Applegate's face. He only said, crisply:- "Consulting your guide-book, I suppose, Miss Re- dan?" "Oh! no; reading romances, Baron; living a ro- mance for an hour while we have hidden amongst these old helmets and breastplates." "Yes," said Applegate, with ha tantalizing look, "reading from the manual' of arms,--a delightful though not a military book." I can give you some lessons, Mr. Shrink, in the true manual of that name," -answered Bruck, as sig- nificantly. "Very well! I have already mastered the rudiments. I shall be ready at any time when you may have leisure." Bruck thought Applegate was acting the braggart. When they reached the state apartments again, the - ballroom was thrown open, and a noble military band made music for the dancers. Bruck and Miss Kent, Agar and Applegate, Hilt and Colonel Redan made part of the same quadrille, and Agar asked Applegate the name of "the handsome officer." PRESENTED TO THE KING. 365 "It is he who spoke with your guardian in the armory," said Applegate. "I wish to be no scandal- bearer, but I deem it my duty to tell you that he is unfit to be your acquaintance, much less your friend." "He has a strange resemblance to somebody whom I seem never to have seen, yet to know." The Baron Bruck drew small encouragement from Agar Reda'n the whole of this night, and he was there- fore thrown back upon the high spirits and the fine form and face of Miss Kent, who frequently brought a smile of enjoyment to his cold, aristocratic face. The two seemed pleased with each other, and Applegate noted that Holt threw his indolent, good-natured look in their direction often, and he knew from Holt's char- acter, that when the Englishman seemed thus indolent and comfortable he was most alert in the sinister depths of his nature. At last the great apartments began to fill with echoes to replace the fast departing guests, and the Ameri- cans also made their adieus. Hilt and Miss Kent took Bruck in their carriage, and Applegate followed soli- tary in his own conveyance. As they crossed the pal- ace-yard and emerged by the iron gates upon the Public Piazza, a throng of idlers, beggars, and towns- people stood by the carriage-drive to peep at the pass- ing courtiers. Applegate noted one of these vaga- bonds, crouching low and ragged by the palace-gate, seeking to hide from the bright light which streamed through every window of the palace, and flooded the paved square with a rich twilight tint. As the carriage in front passed near this man, he leaped up and clung to it from behind. A famished, limping, weary wretch page: 366-367[View Page 366-367] 366 PRESENTED TO THE KING. he seemed, his tatters blowing in the wind, and his feet almost bare. The carriage to which he clung dashed off so rapidly that the man was put to the top. of his speed, and soon ceased to use his legs altogether. For a few minutes he kept his hands upon the springs of the vehicle, his body and feet dragged over the stones; then, as the carriage bounded across a depression in the street, the man was shaken to the ground and he lay like one dead. Applegate leaped out and hastened to his assistance. The appearance and behaviour of the man had powerfully fascinated him from the first, and when he turned the body over and looked into the blood-spattered face, he recognized the ancient enemy of Holt, once more restored to the surface of the earth, and following his avenger's trail. From a lighted cafe near by,the driver brought a carafort of brandy and a pitcher of water. The man was raised to his feet and made to drinkl and bathe his temples. He looked wofully up and down the street and' sought to break away, to give chase to the enemy who had escaped him. "It is useless," said Applegate, "the. carriage is by this time across the Po, perhaps. Put by your insati- able thirst for blood. It is breaking dawn. Here is an open cafe, and I will pay for your breakfast." "I know you," said the wild-eyed stranger. "You are the bright-faced boy who have always a kind word and a piece of bread for me. O my God, I was sure of doing my work this time! My knife was in my hand'; my eye was clear. But for the woman who sat at his side, and whom I feared to injure, I could have killed him through the open door. Alas! this long PRESENTED TO THE KING. 367 chase has enfeebled me. Even with my wrongs and his conscience I am scarcely a match for him now. But I shall have another trial. I feel it!" "Poor man.!" said Applegate; "leave the wicked to his wickedness. Go in and eat. Yonder is my hotel. Come to me at noon, and I will give you better shoes and garments than these to continue your journey." "Heaven reward you!" said the gaunt being. "I faintly remember the pure and beautiful lady whose lover you were upon the steamship. May she be worthy of you May you never love as I have, and be like me, - by no fault of my own, - made a lonely demon, scouring the world for my injurer!" "Heaven forgive me!" said Applegate, turning away. "It is I who am unworthy, not Gretchen." He dreamed all night of the love-pledges he had re- signed to Agar. Now it seemed that the little watch- case she had worked held all his money, and that Agar had lost it. Again he thought that Hilt had secured the silver-gilt stiletto, and was stabbing Bruck, Agar, Colonel Redan, Miss Kent, Gretchen and himself with it. He turned and rolled and talked aloud, as he had never done before, even when poorest, and when he woke at high noon, the tall, gaunt enemy of Hilt was at his door. Applegate gave him the discarded courier's suit, and furnished him with twenty francs. The man took them away with a look as of one newly energized, and he was seen no more in Turin. page: 368-369[View Page 368-369] 868 THE PINNACLES OF MLAN. CHAPTER XXXTT. THE PINNACLES OF MLAN. "GRACIOUS heavens!" cried Mrs. Oates; "air you getting letters from the monarchs, Mr. Shrink?" "No, madame. This letter is from my newly mar- ried sister in New York, and it contains a present from my uncle of twenty pounds. He repents of his neglect of me, I suspect, and I am not less obliged to him that he has withheld the money, because, being poor, I have had such general sympathy and help for others." "Here is a basketful of. visiting cards in foreign tongues," said Mrs. Oates; "what's them? Air you going to marry Queen Victoria's cousin?" "These are the addresses of Italian gentlemen who appreciate what little I have written to England in sup- port of their cause. My letters I have myself trans- lated, and the journals of Turin, Milan, and Genoa have copied them." "Bravo, Shrink!" cried Colonel Redan ; "but while you keep writing, make my orderly give you lessons in sabre-practice and fire-arms every day. Journalism is a fighting profession on this side of the English chan- nel. There's Bruck, who would- like to cut off your right hand at the wrist, if he thought it would not be cowardly to challenge a civilian." THE P INNACLES OF MLAN. 369 "I feel as if I would like to get a contract of some sort out of these Sardines," said Mr. Oates, uneasily. Here are all you gentlemen, friends of mine, with in- fluence at Court, and I could do something in the busi- ness way that would be a pride to our country, not to mention the trifling matter of personal profit. Can't you think of something they want??" "Money!' answered the one-armed colonel; "they have been at me for it already. The whole nation is anxious for war; but it is nearly bankrupt." "I perceive," said Mr. Oates, "that the Htalians are not in a position to trade. Perhaps I may turn up when hostilities break out." The whole party set out for Lugand the next day, as they had now been nearly a month in Turin. Bruck, Holt and Miss Kent had gone in advance, and as Ap- plegate was loth to show Margaretha that he preferred Miss Reda'n's company to hers, he sat with Bolivar all the way, and this, of course, placed him near Gretchen's side. "Applegate," spoke the sick boy, "you don't come to see Gretchen and me as you used to before you got to be so great. Do all great men get new friends right away, and forget their old ones? She's been crying; but not as much as she has been singing." "Hush!" said Margaretha; " let Applegate tell you about the battle of Magenta." , "I thought we were coming near a battle-field," said the weak boy; " because I heard the drums- very loud just then. Where can they be beating so?" They were now passing by the little village where that great battle had happened four years before, and page: 370-371[View Page 370-371] 370 THE PINNACLES OF MLAN. a few traces of the desperate contest were visible in the trees, and around the railway station. Magenta itself lay some way off, and Applegate described the paint- ings of the action by Horace Vernet, by Yvon, and by Pils. The sick boy looked out upon the rich plain, thus in the late autumn still heavy with orchard leaves, tall, bell-capped belfry towers studding the misty dis- tances, and in the dew the red-tiled village roofs seemed to be roses or dahas in blossom. The ground was so rich that the rank strength of it sent up smoke and smell, and round about the rice-fields lay amongst the vines and orchards, ditched and sluiced, and gaining sustenance from the River Po. 'Alas!" said Gretchen, "that a region like this should have been selected for immemorial war." "Here the military art began," responded Agar. "I read the history of the Masters in it with the inter- est of romance." . "Tell me," cried Bolivar, "to stop the drums going so hard, who were the masters of the military art?" "That is a short question to a long answier," said Applegate. "-In modern times France produced the earliest and the most original reorganizers of armies. Italy, ever the battle-ground between France and Ger- many, contributed also a great number of mercenary artists, and we draw the names .of the essential parts of fortification from the Italian. Between Italy and France grew up the great names of Eugene and Napo- leon. Germany's foremost captains were Wallenstein and Frederick. Sweden sent a mighty soldier, perhaps the parent of modern tactics, in Gustavus Adolphus. Fortification was carried toperfection, relatively speak- THE PINNACLES OF MLAN. 371 ing, by Coehoorun, a Dutchman, Vauban, a Frenchman, and Cormontaigne. Vauban was one of the most ver- satile and good and great men who ever lived, worthy to rank with Washington, Sully, Moreau, Leonardo da Vinci, and Michael Angelo. At present the great cap- tains of war are mechanics and inventors. Arms are attaining such perfection that tactics seem to be on the point of demoralization, and the best order of battle may yet be, every man for himself, as in the barbarous ages." "What do you mean by tactics?" asked Mrs. Oates. Is 'tactics some kind of taxes?" "The more tactics you have," answered Mr. Oates, "the more taxes somebody has to pay." "Tactics," said Applegate, "is the art of beating an enemy in actual battle by so disposing your forces as to be stronger than he at a vital point. Troops move by line and by column; but over a long line of battle the position is generally in line, two or three deep. Napo- leon's celebrated movement was to divide an enemy's army into halves by piercing the latter's centre with a column, then swinging the column so as to beat one of the halves. Echielon is a tactical movement by which a General maintains his army both in column and line, so:- Marching to the left, the battalions form a united column; spread out as you see them, they are in line. page: 372-373[View Page 372-373] H2gX M THE PINNACLES OF MLAN. Strategy is bird's eye generalship, or the predisposition of armies,-of which the greatest tactical battle may be only one movement. Thus, you see, the greatest gen- eral may be he who sits a thousand miles from the field of bloodshed, directing the conflict of nations with a pencil and a map." "That's mean generalship," said Bolivar; "it is cold cruelty without danger. When I get well I want to be a General of tactics, and not of strategy. But the drums roll so!" Colonel Redan took Bolivar on his lap, and softly talked to him of war and adventure. The fine beard anid rich color of the Colonel made his missing arm all the more prominent; a noble example of manhood had been marred by the ball which struck him. Agar, sit- ting by, looked up to her guardian's face, as he bent himself so gracefully to the apprehension of this rough childhood, and Applegate noted that with tenderness and pain she regarded a long while his armless sleeve. "Colonel," asked Bolivar, "don't you wish you had your arm back again to fight with it more?" "No! Bolivar," said the Colonel, looking at Agar, seriously, "not for fighting. I don't-miss it much. Perhaps others do, the ladies, for example. Am I right, cousin?" Her eyes sank down, and she said: - 'Two arms are better than one, of course." 'Yes," said the Colonel, sadly, "it is well that I am near'the ridge of life. Now it matters little whether I be handsome or not." They were now in the suburbs of Milan, and soon came to the railway station, and the whole party fol- THE PINNACLES OF MLAN. 373 owed Applegate to the beautiful Hotel, de la Ville. They were to remain but one night in Milan, and to improve the few hours of daylight left, Applegate and Agar strolled out to see the wonder of Lombardy, - the Cathedral. They purposely took a flanking street that they might come upon it from the front, and while they walked past the beautiful shops and curious bookstalls, amongst the large and dignified Lombards, they forgot the great edifice, till suddenly it rose out of the ground before them like a hoary crystallization, - a grove of fir growing upon a trunk of chestnut; below the Greek, above the Goth. Its seven-score spires and pinnacles held each a spotless statue to the sky, and in the boughs of branching stone, in the alcoves of shade, in the bark of the tall, slender, crochetted shafts, a human or a heavenly image stood like tufts of snow beneath the successive roofs of 'mighty pines; or, as Agar more spir- ! itually said, the Cathedral was like a vast stone quarry, ' i crowded with the spirits of the statues yet to arise from its recesses. The architecture grew into a lighter order i as the fabric rose higher from the earth, as if the genius of the architect had endowed it with his own divinity, and on the topmost spires, emblematic of his aspiration, the praying angels looked into heaven. For half a thousand years this Cathedral had been growing with all the vital power of a California giant pine, and while ' they looked they heard the adzes and chisels rin g ji amongst the involutions of the marble. From Sforzaw to Bonaparte, the pious work had been resigned, from tyrant to tyrant, and every year another bud had blos- somed, another leaf had been unfolded, another stone iad consented to sing. - - . page: 374-375[View Page 374-375] v I X aceIJJ X ^-LA ^WJMLID W' ." JAIU^ X "Why, this might be man's defence before his Christ," said Applegate, "this piety of centuries piled into this marble prayer, this everlasting monument not yet fulfil- ling its high design, not finished yet, never despaired of, growing slowly and painfully into beauty like a strug- gling soul into goodness. What is fame amongst men to that serene glory of the Virgin's Child, which out of two thousand years of homage counts this Cathedral as but one unfinished note-? The reigns of many kings have passed into it like words into the Lord's prayer, and the' Amen is yet afar off. Agar," he said, drawing her to him while, he looked up and wondered, " what breadth of purpose can man have like that of giving his life to the service of this Christly fame, and melting into it, like a separate stone into this grand Cathedral?" Agar looked at him, not at the edifice, with something of his own glow. "This is a broad, great purpose, indeed," she an- wered; " this is the wish of a high soul. You are more nearly beloved now, Applegate, than ever before." "Come, let us enter and mount," said Applegate, still in rapt delight. Within the Cathedral they did not tarry long, except to feel the solemn influence of the immense interior, where half twilight lay, so that all sensibility was at- tracted to the images in the capitals of the entwined Gothic columns, to the painted ceiling, and to the stained windows, which made the passing figures scarcely visible, so much stronger were the dyes than the shadowy forms. They climbed to the roof, where chiefly the marvels of Gothic intricacy were seen in! bhtttresses that made the Jong leap through the air from AXS r-.rllt Y&AUJ VOF -MTrLAN. 375 the bases of the pinnacle to the spires of nave and tran- septs, and like stairways in the clouds every buttress was fitted to the adventurous foot, so that the strong- nerved visitor might walk amongst the pinnacles like a bird hopping through the twigs of dizzy poplar tops. Where nave and transepts crossed, an airy dome pro- pelled to a far height one slender tower, like a long sta- men escaped from the bud of a white lily. On the top of this stamen an image was poised, and nearly to its I feet a spiral stairway curled. ] "Have you the nerve to mount to that tower?" i asked Applegate; " the Alps can be seen at this time of day, suspended across the northern horizon." "I can walk where you will," answered Agar, with r ready decision; " but, stay! what does that man up yon- f der see, which makes him behave like a charmed bird?" Applegate looked over the flying buttresses, and on 4 the ridge of the nave he saw a man and woman walk- ^ ing against the pale rose color of the sky. ,] "It is Miss Kent and Captain Hilt, whom we met in 4, Turin," he said. - "But something paralyzes the man! See how he I balances himself, with his hands outstretched, as if he meant to leap from the Cathedral! He is crazy per- E1: haps!" I Applegate followed Holt's look, and at the bottom ' of one of the long, dizzy buttresses, he saw the gaunt man, in the more decent apparel which our hero had - given him, gazing upon Hilt with all the intensity of Xi his gloating hate. '-, "The enemies must meet now," muttered Applegate;?9 'there-is no escape. Collision is certain.'" Colhismnu is certain. " 1 page: 376-377[View Page 376-377] The gaunt person, with--marvelloUls speed, darted up the buttress, and the other seemed transfixed with fear until the clasped knife of his enemy was nearly at his breast. Then he ran along the ridge of the nave, pur- sued by the avenger, and sought to fly by the farthest buttress to that colmer of the transept where the main staircase lay. The pursuer, with reckless agility, cut him -off by a nearer buttress, and again Hilt returned to the ride of the nave, chased from point to point., A deadly game of hide-and-seek was played amongst the entangled architectures, and the two women and Applegate watched it with the breathless interest of spectators at some unreal tragedy. In the foliated and arborescent Gothic places of the temple of God, crime and vindictiveness fled and followed, like the lizards that slip and slide upon each other on the high boughs of a forest. Baffled at ever -turn, white in the face as the pale sky of growing twilight, white almost as the marble on which he trod, Hilt flew before the furious and silent pursuer, until ant last they chased each other about the Gothic dome, and in a desperate moment the fugitive ran up the- slender pinnacle nearly to the foot of the image. The wild-eyed man sought his prey in and out anmongst the intricacies of the dome, but finally, glancing up the spire, he saw Hilt crouching there as if in the act of leaping down amongst the sharp balustrades. A cry of joy escaped the lunatic, and he shook his poniard and yelled deliriously. Hilt also cried for help, for mercy; but not a note of the appeal of either sank to the deep streets and piazzas, whose mutter of footfalls rose into the upper air like- sullen indifference. The many saints stood tiptoe on the frequent pinnacles, and calmly gazed away into the assembling stars. As by the general consent of man and art and nature, these two, between whom lay the long bond of wrong and hate, were to stain the holy stones of the cathedral with the blood of each other. The strange man slipped out of view at times, as he stealthily wound up the winding way to the eyrie of the other. They saw him climb the open stairway of the spire, protected from the abyss of air by a single rail, which he did not touch for help orassurance. Hilt showed no disposition to resist him, but seized the rail as if he meditated the terrible alternative of leap- ing down upon the roof. " It is a clear hundred feet! " cried Applegate. " He will be crushed like a water-drop." At this intense moment, all the spectators felt their sensiblities grow marvellously acute, so that in a wink- fill, the spectres of the distant Alps were seen like the pinnacles of a more spiritual cathedral to ruse in their silent whiteness, and the long Lombard plain showed its hundred cities and villages, encamped beneath the sky Beautiful Milan, " the city of the fertile country," drew all its roofs and gardens close together for the night's repose, and the bells of churches, as from eveningm flocks, soothed and signalled to each other. The world below lay all unconscious of this battle between bad angels in the gathering starshine of the upper air. "Oh! it is terrible,' said Agar, "to see a human being perish by another's hand in the heights of this holy place! See ! he reaches to us, to me. Save him, Applegate, save him! " page: 378-379[View Page 378-379] 378 THE PINNACLES OF MLAN. Our hero had already made his way up the flying buttress to whllere Miss Kent, no less concerned, watched the impending collision. "What mystery is this?" she said, "O Applegate, you who keep a pure life and pure thoughts, I fear them both." Applegate continued on; spurred by the wish of Agar Redan, he passed the nave to the dome, and with weary feet walked up the steps of the spire. He saw Hilt, speechless and almost lifeless, clinging to the shaft of the slender pinnacle; but the pursuer had stopped and hesitated, while yet but a step from the heart of his enemy, and he was clinging to the rail with a deadly pallor, as if paralyzed in the very gesture of murder. "Too old! too weak! too late!"- gasped the gaunt man, and, as he fell, Applegate supported him. "You are saved, Mr. Holt," cried our adventurer; ' the man has fainted." Holt steadied himself, with a sigh, and the blood slowly returned to his face. "Take him out ofi-the way," he whispered; " let me descend, or I shall fall also." "Help me to carry him!"cried Applegate; " he seems to be dying." "Not an inch," said Holt; "pray God he die right speedily!" I At this moment Applegate saw Holt's eye fastened upon the poniard which was clasped in the limp hand of the luniatic, and, with a sudden revulsion of thought, Holt's face grew black with passion. He rushed upon the knife., THE PINNACLES OF MLAN. 379 "I will close the account now," he muttered, "he has tracked me like a bloodhound: stand away!" "Stand you away!" answered Applegate; "you shall not harm him. It is you who have made him remorse- less as he is. Ay! I know you, insincere one! Vil- lain!" As Applegate said this, guarding the prostrate body, Agar Redan appeared below, zealously mounting, and she heard the words. Holt saw that she heard them, and his face grew darker; but his antipathy was transferred from the man to his boyish defender. "You choose to insult me, to follow me up, to degrade me, you .beggar!" he hissed. "As you have stood -between me and my persecutor, I will stand between you and your wish one day." "Stand where you will!" retorted Applegate. "I am not the child you robbed once. I have no black weight upon my heart. I defy you ," Here Miss Kent and Baron Bruck were seen 'on the roof below, gazing at the party, and Bruck was steadying Miss Kent in his arms. Holt changed his n tone when he beheld them. "The manl is mad," -he cried, that is all" And he crossed the prostrate figure with a shudder and a smile. Bluck called to Miss Redan that he should be glad to see her to her hotel, and she accepted his services. In a few moments the unconscious man opened his eyes, and stared wildly around him. "Alas!" he said, "I am wasted by the years of my poverty, grief, and travel. To do vengeance with my own hand I am not able." "Hasten to quit this place," answered Applegate; page: 380-381[View Page 380-381] 880 THE PINNACLES OF MLAN. "the police may be directed this way. Yonder, facinig the Cathedral's facade, are several places of entertain- ment. I will give you a bed and some spirits." "I will go! - Give me brandy, and I shall be myself again. You seem to me one of these angels upon the tips of the pinnacles,bent down to be my comforter." They made the descent slowly, and crossed to the series of quiet restaurants which are near by the piazza of the Cathedral. Applegate selected one, wearig the sign and title of, "Trattoria -Yazionale," and he hired a room for eight francs a day at the top of the house, to which he escorted his gaunt acquaintance. There he gave the man a glass of French brandy, and, feeling very weary himself, he drank a half bottle of Capri sec. ttI have tried to think kindly of you, sir," said Applegate; "but you must explain to me the reason of this hallucination of revenge under, which you had once nearly drowned me in the Atlantic. What is your grievance against this Englishuman?" "ou have a ringht to ask," said the wild man; " my grievance is now four years old. It seems a century. Five years ago I was the happy master of a happy cot- tage on the banks of an English river. I was a 'Fel- low,' or pensioned graduate of the University of Cam- bridge, and, by the laws regulating Fellowships, was obliged to remain a bachelor, if I wished my annuity to continue. Unhappily I fell in love, and was secretly married; but I had the duplicity to conceal the fact, for which Heaven punished me too well,! "I was at the time engaged in a series of delicate and difficult scientific experiments with the end of -iev- olutionizing the basis of motive power, - no visionary THE PINNACLES OF MLAN. 381 plan, but a demonstrable and now successful thing, - and they separated me for a time from the familiar company of my young wife. To obtain the means of supporting my dear one and my child,.while I prose- cuted these unremunerative experiments, I had reluc- tantly yielded to the temptation of keeping up the show of bachelorhood, that my Fellowship might not be taken from me. My wife, therefore, was, in -a sense, un- acknowledged, while she was yet in part forsaken. Therefore her time hung heavily on her hands, ahndin this unsettled period the fiend who punishes the deceits of men gave me a pupil, and her a companion." 'What are you named, sir?" asked Applegate. 'tTrample was my name. The pupil consigned to me was Benjamin Hilt, the natural son of a wealthy gentleman who had conferred my Fellowship upon me. Ignorant of the fact of my marriarge, - through my own deceit, - this gentleman thought it a favor to me, as it was a relief to himself, to entrust the offspring of his folly to one who had taken of his bounty. He gave me a viper to warm. '"Hilt was then a young man of a noble appearance, with candid manners, with ready intelligences, and with all the accomplishments of courageous and cheer- ful youth. I was an earnest and an absorbed man, pur- suing my scheme with the gravity and intensity of a monomaniac. "I saw but one way to compound my guardianship and my professional pursuit. I threw myself upon the generosity of my pupil, confessed my marriage, and begged him to relieve the ennui of my wife for the page: 382-383[View Page 382-383] 382' THE PINNACLES OF. MLAN. short period intervening before the conclusion of my experiments. "He accepted the confidence and the trust with all the deadly sweetness of his graces, and at once set about the work of treachery. He dwelt upon my absent manners, and made them seem to grow from indifference or satiety. He harped upon the doubtful position of my wife, wedded, but not acknowledged, and by his superior attentiveness and courtesy he made the idle days go by so deftly, that when I joined my household at night with my wearied brow and lost spirits, I seemed tot' bring a shadow. I will not tell you the successive steps by which this villain brought my poor, blind girl to misapprehend me. It is a long story, and an involved one. By arts worthy of writers of fiction, he was at last enabled to make this monstrous representation apparent: that my wife was my victim, married by a mock ceremony, and purposely disowned before the world, and that I was wearq of her. This established, the ruin w'as done. On the brink of con- cluding my investigations, with success in full view, with independence, wealth, and the thanks of mankind scarce over the-threshold of another week, I found myself the possessor of an abandoned home and an agonizing memory!" The gaunt man fell to sobbing like a child, and Ap- plegate's eyes filled with tears. "Mark now, how little the villain valued what he had, striven so long to obtain! His incentive had been the love of intrigue. Nothing more! He took passage for America, and I, with the dream of science dispelled forever, folloxebd hard after to seek, to save, to pardon, THE PINNACLES OF MAN. 383 to recover my wife, -at least, to find my child. He had flung them away without remorse. My child per- ished of hunger before I could come up with him. My wife heard from my lips the story of her error, and died in my arms. My heart was broken. It answered to but one appeal: Revenge!" "It is a fearful, if a familiar experience," said Apple- gate; "but I am not your judge. You are embarked upon an impotent errand, my poor friend. Your enemy is too young and strong for you to cope with him.'" "I do not despair," cried the gaunt man. "I shall attach myself hereafter to his fates, and expedite his I voyage to perdition. The time for single combat with t him has truly gone by. But I know his motive in these Southern lands, and I shall be familiar as his shadow, following him down to the last." "I- have this to say," concluded Applegate, "that you and I must speak no more together. We have crossed paths several times, and each time I have had pity or help for you. Implacable as you are, I can no longer seem to be your Samaritan. I have been threatened already with the vengeance of your be- trayer. Adieu!" "Adieu!" said the man Trample; " if anything could turn me aside from this pursuit, and lead me to peni- tence and forgetfulness, it would be your kindly pity. But I am an instance of one surrendered to a revenge- ful purpose. I expect to achieve it without happiness, and I wish to expire in its fulfilment." page: 384-385[View Page 384-385] 884 DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. CHAPTER XXXITT. DEATH OF THE ]FIGHTING BOY. NEXT morning the whole company started by rail for Lugano, passing th6 Lombard city of Monza, hidden amongst vines and orchards, and reaching Camerlata in the middle of the forenoon. Thence car- riages conveyed them downi the steep roadway which -leads to Como, and they could look over the whole sur- face of that lovely city, lying on the shores of the softest lake in Europe, enclosed with dark mountains, on whose sides the white villas looked like clefts where daylight pierced through, and on one singullar peak a broken tower and a fortress stood against the sky. The city wore that ilnvitinog look which all Italian places obtain by distance, the ragged roofs of tile giving it color, and the atmosphere covering it like a hazy veil. Above the plain of roofs tall, medieval gateways floated, and in the middle foreground the dome of the Cathedral swam like a balloon. They tarried scarcely an hour here, for Bolivar was suffering with all the patience of his nature, and they were soon on the way to Lugano in vehicles. Colonel Redan gave mup half his carriage to Mrs. Oates and Bolivar, while the Contractor rode on the box, and Bruck, Hilt, Miss Kent and Applegate were crowded together in , ,= DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. 385 the diligence which plied between Como and Capo- lago. Applegate passed over this portion of his journey with melancholy feelings; for at Lugano he was to en- force the cruel separation between himself and Marga- retha. He sat silently, watching the narrow plain and the mountain hillocks which shut it in, without delight. The wayside villages and villas gave him no joy. A few months ago he would have guessed that the sweet- est pleasure earth could afford would be to look upon the warm valleys at the foot of the Alps where the loveliest lakes in Europe reflected the softest preci- pices. Now he watched it all as if a cloud hung over nature, and in his soul he felt that the better poesy of life was dead. Love to him was no longer the rest it had once seemed, the childlike faith, the humble dream of content sweetened by sympathy; it was now like the love of mating eagles, whose softest cooings express the love of prey, whose passion is in flight, and whose home is the cold crags. He thought of this artificial social life whose threshold he had passed; its glitter and its hollowness, its petty emulations, its false betrothals, its marriages of pride and commerce, gilt and convenience; and by the side of such existences the very steerage of the steamship seemed to grow cheerful as the peasant's hearth. Again he thought of Gretchen's face as he had first beheld it, the brightness of her feeling eyes, the ripeness of her color, the red- ness of her lips; the softness of her tone and touch. He felt her hand in his wavy hair again, as when he lay in her lap and feared to open his eyes lest the illu- sion might be. broken, and down through the darkness 17 page: 386-387[View Page 386-387] :386 DEATH OF THE FIGHllTING BOY. of his poverty he remembered her words of hope, her beckoning hand, her beautiful religious nature, which made love seem the providence of heaven itself. To Applegate, Gretchen was the same even yet, but he had climbed to a stronger stature, and now she seemed the younger, the more dependent one, but no less winning, and the thought of what he was to do oppressed him like something against which his heart, had bken warned. To send away that dove-like figure, that expression of surrendered self, those charms of person and character which could scarcely be enhanced if all the magnetism of Agar Reda'n were added to them, - it was to divorce one from his heart's ideal in the glow and blush of first possession; and her meek nature might rise by its pain to the conception of her worth, and repel a second solicitation. Thus Apple- gate was on the brink of quarrelling with his heart. He felt that when he should say adieu to Gretchen it would be forever. He paid little heed to Briuck and Hilt, who showed as little disposition to converse with him, but when he looked at them it was with haughty and worldly con- fidence. At last they began the slow and winding ascent of Mount Olimping, which- stands on the boundary be- ' tween Italy and Switzerland, and Miss Kent suddenly cried: "Applegate, we shall have some fine views from this mountain, and my guide-book tells me that we can take some short paths, and anticipate the diligence nearly an hour. Will you walk with me?" "Gladly!9' he answered, and they were afoot di- DEATH OF TIIE FIGHTING BOY. 387 rectly, passing under gigantic chestnut-trees, and through groves of cedar and oak, with here and there a wayside farm, a vineyard, or a roaring brook trickling down from snow to sunshine. It was growing toward Christmas, yet roses and fruit were visible along the paths, and in these sensuous surroundings they spoke only of commonplaces, but inhaled the air of mountain and summer, till at last they crossed the Swiss frontier, at a little inn an a a guard-house ; for Mount Olimpino was noted for brigands, being a convenient place for robbers to slip to and fro-from kingdom to republic and evade the law of that side where they had com- mitted crime. "It is absurd to keep up these artificial barriers," said Miss Kent, as she sat on a bench at the door of the inn; "a frontier is always a dreadful place, either for smuggtlers, counterfeiters, or brigandcls." "Yet there must be a frontier to a state as a thresh- old to every home. Man governs himself within boundaries; Providence only has no frontier." "How orthodox you are, Applegate! Now show me one advantage of drawingc this artificial line be- tween two sets of neighbors." "tWell, here is one benefit: across a frontier the political offences of a man do not pursue him. Nearly half the crimes of mankind are of this sort. Across this presumption of a wall Kossuth, Mazzini, Louis Napoleon, Kosciusko, Kotzebue, Manin, anybody, can escape and be at peace. It is the sanctuary of the persecuted from France, Italy, Germany, and Russia. The town of Lugano, for which we are bound, is always sheltering some one illustrious man who could page: 388-389[View Page 388-389] 388 DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. not recross this vague line but at the peril of a dungeon." "But if there were no artificial states there would be no political crimes. If all were common there would be one law, or rather there would be no law at all, for as one-half of human offences are political, as you have said, the other half are personal because of the abuse called property." "I see the nature of your reading, my dear Miss Kent," said Applegate. "You think both states and homes unnecessary. Where will this lead you, my friend? And an American woman, too!" He spoke, unintentionally, with pain and displeas- ure. Miss Kent showed not anger, but a blush, as if she felt the-earnestness-of his reproof. "You are not too severe, Applegate," she said. "I had resolved never to use those unseemly argu- ments again, and your reproof gives me a chance to tell you a confidence. Both of us are the dupes of false doctrines. You have come to Europe to prove the falsehood that it can be walked over and under for nothing; and I am cured of the theory that the world can be happy without private firesides. Your bane was romantic travel; nine romantic philosophy." "French novels and'air-castles?" suggested Apple- gate,. "Just those I wI as a school-mistress in a part of our country where there is much latitude of thought and freedom of action, and T had the propensity, rather than the talent, as you have, of composing in verse and prose. We had a spiritualists' circle in our :village, and while it turned the heads of many light DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. 389 people, it guided me to all the literature of the gro- tesque and visionary. St Simon, Fourier, Robert Owen, and the like, were my preceptors, and in due time my diversion became the novels of the younger Dumas, of Madame Dudevant, and the lesser magnets of French drama and fiction. Suddenly I found myself pos- sessed of a fortune, - the legacy of my father who had followed the Pacific Star, and left me without a guide since childhood. I resolved to come to Europe- alone, and explore the rosy romance of this continental life. For a while my lot was cast with that coarse Mrs. Oates and your party; but at Basle I resolved to break from them, and out of sympathy for you I offered you the means to be my counsellor and comrade." "I remember it well," said Applegate; "had I not been astonished I should have pleaded with you by the friendship you had sh-own me, by the country of our mothers, and by your better womanhood, to pause and reconsider." "You said enough, my countryman," answered Miss Kent, -" enough to recall me to myself. I saw your girlish face and the wonder in your eyes preaching to me. I saw the strength your pure love for your sweetheart Gretche-n gave you. They followed me over every mile of the road to Paris, and there a single week's acquaintance with the philosophers showed me the sources of their speculations. - Herded together in a sort of cafe life, - actresses and writers, rou6s and debauchees, - they had projected- a world out of such materials as they knew, and when' I looked into it I was already repentant." Applegate looked up at her face, now earnest and page: 390-391[View Page 390-391] 390 DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. frank, and more beautiful than ever because ml(re modest, and he said:- "You make me glad! You are so handsome that people always ask what is your nationality, and we should hold the credit of our country high if by accident we are made to represent it. At Turin you were one of the belles- of the palace. The King admired you. But if you value your good name, your, purse, perhaps -even your safety and liberty, you should quit the company of this Captain Hilt." "I fear him," whispered Miss Kent; " he is light and agreeable, and, I believe, a nobleman. But there is something hidden under all. He is dogged by some one. He receives all sorts of dark visitors in strange, solitary places, and he meditates some design upon Baron Bruck." "Why, Miss Kent, Hilt is the very fellow with' whom you chatted upon the steamship, and who robbed me at Antwerp." She rose to her feet and stood trembling. "I recognize him now," she murmured, - the deep yet base villain! Applegate, I am not fit to go at large, although I thought my good sense would carry me round the world. That Hilt has letters in my handwriting, carelessly indited, which he can use to my shame. They are the worst he knows of me; but he may make them mean anything. And, Applegate, I am in love with a man who is in daily contact with Hilt. I love the Baron Bruck!" "The Baron Bruck? The Austrian? "Yes. He is a man of command, and I need re- straint. He is a gentleman, though a stern one, and DEATH rOF THE FIGHTING BOY. 391 disdains dishonor. Oh, how shall I recover those letters?" The diligence came in sight at this moment, and when they resumed their seats Bruck looked at Apple- gate with grim curiosity. U "pon my soul " he said, " you are a young Henri Quatre amongst the women. One after another they compete for your company. A uniform and a sword have no power nowadays. We must put them off, and wear, instead, a student's dressing-gown and a quill behind our ears." "Some of you might be improved even by the dress of a student," said Applegate, with an accompanying - sneer, that he had learned of Bruck. "Do you'carry a pistol?" "Always, in the treacherous country we have just ' left behind us." "So do I," said Applegate. "Do you see that cross at the wayside, with a small paper portrait pasted in the centre?" "Perfectly." "We fire at the head of the portrait," said Apple- gate, takingL aim from the window of the diligence. "Arrest the stage, coachman!" Bruck fired first, and struck the feet of the printed figure. Applegate fired as soon as the smoke cleared away.' His ball had passed through the neck. "A chance shot, I suppose?" cried Bruck, a little astonished. "Try another!" answered Applegate, cocking his pistol. This time Bruck struck the print just above the page: 392-393[View Page 392-393] 892 DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY, head. Applegate put a ball in the very centre of the face. "I have done you injustice, sir," said the Austrian, frankly but coldly, " for H supposed that your weapons were your smooth face, and perhaps your quill. How- ever, skill with a pistol may be a specialty. It is Heart which makes an officer." "Then Austria must be poorly officered, Baron." "I mean courage, self-control, manhood!" "Oh! we. cannot carry that where we carry our pistols, and show it at every roadside mark. Unless," he added, ' we get over into the Austrian provinces, where Saxon courage vents itself on every newspaper editor, every Bible-peddler, and every poor wretch who does not hasten to crook the knee to the double- headed eagle." They were both angry; for Applegate had spoken' with the intention to taunt. "I-gad!" said Hilt, lightly; "you are a dead- shot with your tongue, Shrink!" "Peace, gentlemen!" spoke Miss Kent. "See the -scenery you are missing!" They were now nearly one thousand feet above the sea, and, although in Switzerland, the landscape and the hamlets were thoroughly Italian. Men in velvet jackets and women in scarlet head-dresses were picking chestnuts under the spreading trees. Below the road, in a gorge, which sometimes widened to a miniature lake, a river rushed toward the Lake of Como. Then passing another steep mountain they wound down to the town of Mendrisio, whose little river runs north- ward into the Lake of Lugano. Here they saw the DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. 393 slender blue thread of the lake stretched at the base of high peaks ; rising three thousand feet in the air, crowned with a convent, Mount Salvatore stood like a light-house, wearing upon its snows the ruddy flame of the western sun. A few minutes brought them to Capolago, where a little steamboat waited for the diligence. In a few minutes the baggage, mails, and passengers were transferred, and the little vessel, like a gold-fish, clove the deep blue silence of the lake, whose gilded shores and garden walls, and villas white as pearl and ivory, lay along the shelving bases of mighty moun- tains which revolved upward to heights of barrenness and mist. At every turn of the lake in artistic posi- tions villages or villas met the eye, in picturesque dis- similarity of shape, but harmonizing in the vista, and willows, aspens, orchards, vines, orange-groves, broken church-towers, bits of shrines, cells, or castles, and clumps of masted boats studded the purple and orange borders like jewels in a' picture-frame. Across the blue lake, lazily rowing, so that the oars struck music out of the tinted air, passed fishermen or market folks in scarlet and velvet vestures, crouching or standing in bow-covered barges, and the language of these salut- ing the steamer was liquid and soft as the scenery. Beyond this foreground of luxury and voluptuousness, the Alps, far off, seemed yet close to the eye, so mighty were their outlines, and the snows which covered the contiguous peaks made them resemble a race of giant housewives, peeping over in their white nightcaps at this miniature lake and its tempting sceneries. They passed a pair of promontories while yet they were page: 394-395[View Page 394-395] 394 DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. wondering and drinking so much beauty in, and to the right, across a causeway like a golden bridge, they saw the church-towers and porticoes of Lugano, beyond the base of the peak of Salvatore. ( What does it remind you of?" said Miss Kent. Heaven!" said Applegate. It was in a-cove of the lake, where on one side a river traversed a valley, and on the other the peak of Salva- tore rose, that the town of Lugano, the most Italian amongst the Swiss cities, lay upon the sides of some wooded hills and on the level margin of the lake. Its shore was shaped like a silver crescent, and to the edge of the water the willow-draped and vine-girt walls of villas ran, and the gardens, shelving upward in terraces, were full of myrtle hedges, of aspens, and of fruit- trees. One could stand at any point of the shore and see the whole amphitheatre of the town and its tributa- ries and its guardian mountains. There were towers, and tall facades of houses and hotels standing above the masses of the town, with a cathedral over all, and along the steeps in the rear Applegate saw a graded road reach by acute terraces up the Agus torrent toward the town of Bellinzona, - the great road of St. Gothard, which Longfellow had made exquisite to Americans by his Golden Legend. They disembarked at the little, crowded pier, and while the rest went on, Applegate was forced to stay and collect the baggage. This was to be his last day as a valet do place. He saw Bruck and Hilt look at -him with sneering gestures as he bustled about the trunks and parcels, but, while he felt embittered, he DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. 395 made no expression of anger or shame; for he felt that at least one of the men who mocked him was a thief. They were speedily assembled in the Hotel du ^Parc, on the border of the lake, at the end of the denser town, - a noble Swiss hotel, but as famous for its ex- tortionate charges as for its conveniences. There was a park of walks and trees on one side, and the paved quay in front was planted with limes, maples, and willows, made hospitable with stone benches, and divided from the deep lake by a railing. A staircase led to the water, at the foot of which there were always boats to hire. Over the quay and the landing a statue of William Tell, wearing a feathered hat, and drawing a concealed arrow from his breast, was the only Swiss feature about the landscape. The season for tourists was now over, and the hotel was inhabited by a few English, Germans, and French, who made it their winter home to bask in the advanta- ges of the climate and the quiet. The American party was therefore supplied with largeaand elegant rooms, and Bolivar Oates, the invalid, was placed in a large salon, whose windows looked out upon the' lake and Salvatore. A resident physician was at once sum- moned, and he pronounced the boy to be in a declining condition. "He has immense will and tenacity of life for a lad," said the doctor; "but the vital deposits are not there, --the blood particularly, which the Rabbis say is the Life. He will not probably quit Lugano, monsieur." Mr. Oates pressed Applegate's hand, and covered his own knotty, kindly face with his handkerchief. "I ought to be a religious man," he said, "to have page: 396-397[View Page 396-397] 396 DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. been able, out of many risks and close shaves in busi- ness, to bring the young genius of liberty to a place as nigh 'like the Beautiful Country as this. You and the Colonel, Applegate, have kind o' like interested me in Italy. Here let the little chap make his last fight. But he shall go home to our Christian church-yard, and be buried amongst his revolutionary forefathers." When Mrs. Oates was told of this news, it brought an expression of better feeling across her hard, vain, mercenary face. "This judgment comes of travelling of a Sunday,' she cried, after a pause; "the church of Tuckapuck, where I gained my early piety, Mr. Shrink, was a Methodist one. I hev been a apostate. Is there a Methodist 'Discipline' in the Htalian tongue? If so, I want Bolivar to be buried in the faith of his fathers, with foreign variations." Beneath all this assumption and vanity, Applegate could still detect the mother in Mrs. Oates. He re- marked to the Contractor:- "Your wife feels this blow, my friend and patron I If you lose your brave, warm-hearted boy, do not up- braid his mother. - Removed from this bad school of women, Europe, she will grow dearer to yolu by this impending loss." "Right, Applegate!" cried the Contractor, clenching his horny fist, while firmness and tenderness showed together in his face. "Mrs. Oates, when I married her, 'was one of the smartest, closest, keenest women in Jersey. She helped me make all I had; for at pres- ent I don't know how much is left of it. She presided over the purse and I over the business, and between us DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. 397 we made ignorance bliss; she saved, and I tussled. This Eu-rope-ean tour has turned her head. But never fear that I shall break the contract I made to love and honor her. Only hereafter the specification 'obey' will have to be observed by the party of the second part. And to this," continued Mr. Oates, with a light in his small, round eye, "we subscribe our hands and seals!" Bolivar lay in the large room of the inn, where a bright wood fire flickered on the stone floor, and the ceiling and walls were painted in gay stencil-work with birds, vines, fruit, and arbors. The bedstead was high and made of iron, with a muslin canopy above it, and 'by the bedside tall waxen candles stood upon a stone table, and gave the interior somewhat the appearance of a Catholic chapel. "Bolivar," said Applegrate, "are you feeling better 'to-day, my poor boy?" "I hear a million of drums, Applegate, and marching feet, and trumpets, and last night even the roar of big guns. And I feel so weak that I can't get in and march too. For I want to very much. Wherever there's soldiering I want to be." "Oh, no! dear," pleaded Applegate. "You want to shut out the noises and have rest. Poor papa is dis- tressed that you think so much of such things. We all love you, and want to see you happy." "I know it, Applegate! That's why I won't say anything about this weakness I have. They might thinrk I was scared, because I am so little. Say nothing about it to any of them. Only Gretchen knows it. Poor, page: 398-399[View Page 398-399] 398 DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. faithful, pretty Gretchen, who tells me such beautiful stories! Won't you kiss her forme?" Gretchen sat at the foot of the bed, sewing, and with her high color and downcast eyes, and her small, white hands moving nimbly while she watched the gnarled, rough boy, she looked to Applegate like a Sister of Mercy. But she was grown thin by this long confine- ment, and as he looked at her, through his blush of shame, -for he had not kissed her for nearly a fortnight, -he saw that she was suffering from more than bodily ailing. A generous impulsion came- to him, and he folded her in his arms. "My poor girl!" he said; "how I have neglected you I " She tried to say " no; " but the tears fell while she sought to look up, and the sobs would not let her speak. "Is that Gretchen crying?" said Bolivar, feebly. "Who makes her cry? I am not so weak thatI can't fix himm" "It is nothing," said Gretchen. "I am a little ner- vous with sitting up nights. But I would rather do so than sleep, if I can help anybody. Do you know, dear, what I sit thinking about through the long nights? It is of your illness on the vessel when I was the strong- er, and watched you, and first loved you." "Oh! cruel circumstances to come between us, be- loved!" he said, turning upon fate the fault that was his own. "I have been absorbed with fighting my way up in the world, and have taken little note of your good, suffering heart." "Applegate loves you, Gretchen," said Bolivar, DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. 399. feebly; "his heart seems to beat louder than all the drums I hear. Now let him go away a while, and you tell me of that big Dutch -hero of yours, Ar- minius". So while Margaretha took up the tale without mur- muring, Applegate was called away by Agar Redan, who said to him: "I am going out to see the town and take a sail upon the lake. I am quite a sailor, as you may not have heard. At Cowes, on the Isle of Wight, I have a boat of my own." "I have been something of a sailor also," said Apple- gate, "and have been out in some hard blows on the Chesapeake." "I love the water!" cried Agar, with enthusiasm; "and, above all, enjoy a solitary ride by moonlight, where the sense of trustfulness in Heaven is mixed with some human hazard, and the two feelings appropriately- mingle in the half light. But I have heard of your wonderful shooting to-day," she added; " if you carry your pistol with you we will fire at a mark." Colonel ReddLn now called out to the pair :- 'You must take Max with you, if you go on the lake! It is subject to tornadoes at this time of the year." "I had rather not," answered Agar, waywardly, "Oh, yes," insisted -the colonel; "while you go up to see the town he will prepare your boat. You have been upset before, Miss Venturesome!" They strolled through the narrow streets and arcades of the place, entered the church where the grotesque screen of Luini stands, - that Master whose life was page: 400-401[View Page 400-401] 400 DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. spent amongst these Southern lakes, - and they studied patches of color, character and expression at windows, shops, and in the market-place. On the terrace before the Cathedral, which gave a lovely view of the lake and mountains, they saw d lean, grave, priestly man, sitting apart, and watching the scene with a weary face. Ap- plegate stepped up to him and said, in French: -- "Lugano is the smallest of these Lombard lakes, is it not, sir?" "No I "-replied the man, in excellent English, "Varese is smaller; but of the three large lakes, Lugano is the least. It is the most beautiful, sir." "I think so," said Agar; "it is sterner than Como, yet soft also." "( I like it," said the grave man, with a voice sweet as a woman's;. ".it is endeared to me by much grief, longing, and waiting." He turned up his snow-white beard, and looked at them through his soft, dark eyes, and they both re- marked the singular sweetness and nobility of his coun- tenance, so much superior to his common garments. "You are lobvers, I presume?" "We wish to be," said Applegate. "Yonder is my love," he said, pointing toward the south; "though sometimes she drives me from her presence: Italy!" "You are an exile?" asked Agar. "Yes; but love compensates. Immortal love! Be faithful to it, young man, and death, if not life, will crown all your sacrifices: the love of country! Across this lake these rejected bones may some day ride in triumph; for what I have planted in Italy, neither DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. 401 priest nor politicianl can crush out: the love of freedom and country in the hearts of a million young men!" A confidence, like prophecy, burnt in his deep, large eyes, and he looked southward again as sweetly as a mother watchingc her child. "What is your name, sir?" asked Applegate. "Giuseppe Mazzini," he answered, with restrained pride. They both heard it with reverence; for they knew his history well: a man with the sorrows and with more than the devotion of Dante, the successor'- of Rienzi and the last of the Roman Tribunes, the political father of Garibaldi, and the organizer of Italian unity. Not always discreet, never a compromiser, more willing to defy than to forgive, he had the influence of a sover- eign, and some of the sanctity and disappointments of a Messiah. "He came to his own, and his own re- ceived him not." He bade them adieu gently, as if glad of the oppor- tunity to speak to young, people, and at the lake-side they found honest Max and Balboa waiting with the vessel. They set sail at once for the foot of Mount Salva- tore, and at a retired place in the cleft of the rock Max loaded the pistols. t Go yonder, Balboa, and hold out your hat," said Agar. The negro obeyed with cheerful gravity, and his mistress put a ball through the crown. Applegate pierced the centre of the hat, and then described at nearly equal distances a circle of holes around the centre. page: 402-403[View Page 402-403] 402 DEATI- OF THE rFIGHTINGl 3ux. "Vonterful!" cried Max; "you beat me a'ready, Mr. Shrink."p Agar now insisted upon leaving Max and Balboa to walk home, and she set sail with Applegate for the northern arm of the lake; but finding him averse to conversation, and unaccountably gloomy, she tacked in toward shore, and told him to wait for her upon the green lawn of a fine villa in the outskirts of Lugano,- the home of a Milanese merchant. Applegate lay in the shade of a cypress-tree, and watched the spirited and graceful girl sliimming across the transparent shadows of the mountains, until she disappeared around a cape; but his mind was possessed with a gentler image,-- Gretchen. In a few hours she would pass out of the landscape like a more precious vessel, and leave behind her the splendors of a colder, statelier world; but would that new existence be all he had expected? Had this new passion the conscience, the fervor, the satisfaction of the old? Would Agar Redin make the wife to him that his heart yearned for, --that substitute for sister and mother and meek, steadfast friend,-- she whose wishes were so many and whose love of emulation was ve- hement as man's? Gretchen asked but love, and he was to deny her eveln that! As Applegate turned all this over in his agitated mind, the recollection of the keepsakes which Gretchen had given him so impressively, and which he had given another with the full knowledge of the significance of the surrender, oppressed him as the one irrevocable act of his life. He had not merely trifled with her name DEATH OF THE FIGfHTING BOY. 4WU and pledges; he had deliberately weighed her heart with another's, and rejected it. ' While he lay in the shade of the cypress, a boat came so noiselessly up to the side of the park that the first knowledge he had of it was the familiar voice of. Bruck speaking-- "Captain Hilt found Prussian influence everywhere at Turin." "Everywhere!" said the voice of Hilt; " the hand of Bismarck is rough to the sight, but soft as a tiger's paw to feel." "A braggart, a drunkard, an impostor!" cried a third and an unknown voice; " but he has the will, of course, to do any mischief. He-serves the house of Hohenzoller well. But I shall make quick work of them in a campaign. Since Metternich we have lost ; the diplomatic art." T"They have, of course," cried Bruck, "nobody of the field experience of General ]Benedek." At this word Applegate quietly parted the masses of cypress and looked through. With Bruck 'was a sharp-featured, lean and wiry officer, who seemed to be sixty years old. He had dark, penetrating, shining eyes; his'voice was clear and quick, and there was that energy, decision, and severity of manner about him which indicated one high in authority. When Applegate heard Bruck call his name he knew the man right well. It was the dreaded Benedek, the Feldzung- meister, -the commander of all the troops of Austria. He lay carelessly in the boat,under the bowed canopy, while Bruck and Hilt crouched beside him, and at the two oars, fore and aft, two gaunt men leaned, panting. page: 404-405[View Page 404-405] 404 DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. One of them was well muffled up, as though he were cold, while the other wore a loose jacket, and head- kerchief, and was barelegged. "Bismarck is hardly a drunkard, General," said Hilt. "I noticed that when his throat was most inflamed he had the clearest head." "Keep your eye open, Captain!" cried Benedek, "and report promptly all the symptoms. You come to us so well-recommended that we shall be disap- pointed if you permit Bismarck to anticipate you." Hilt laughed dryly, - that treacherous, light laugh. "Never-fear!" he said; "he may know some thnrgs as soon as I; not sooner." The boat moved off here, and as the stern swept past the cypress-boughs, Applegate, still looking down, ob- tained a full view of the face of the muffled oarsman as he bent forward in the attitude of listening. It was the face of the man Trample, the ancient enemy of Captain Hilt. Applegate recalled many tales of state intrigue and chicanery which he had gleaned in books of romance and history, and now he felt that the most involved of them - all was passing under his own observation. In this neutral nook of Switzerland the wire-pullers of the great powers and secret societies met on common.- ground, and spies, letter-bearers, and Jesuits made a dark society at contrast with the frank and radiant air and the bold, joyous mountains. This Benedek was the chief oppressor of Italy; Bruck was his protege; what was Hilt? It came to Applegate dimly that Hilt was an Austrian spyin the service of General Benedek! He had said to Colonel Red&n-'that he was engaged ID EATH OF THE FIGHTLNGT BOY. 405 upon a grand and profitable enterprise, and his changed condition bore out the boast. So had the steerage of his steamship been the path to this maze of falsehood and politics which Applegate, looking into it with deeper contempt every day, called European govern- ment; a conspiracy of thimble-riggers against the credulity, feebleness and avarice of the millions. But such as the farce was, Applegate had entered upon the full career of investigation in it. The plainness of his newspaper letters, and some flavor of feeling and vigor of description which he gave them, had already recommended them to the English-reading public. His daily mail bore evidence of the favor with which they were regcarded by the friends of Italy amongst English-speaking people, and he had received the proofs of a collected pamphlet of them, which a Milanese bookseller was issuing. These were hopeful evidences of appreciation, and the steady remittances of money which followed his letters were not less pleasing to his love of competence, for the sake of independence. But all this while the great debate over the body of the American slave was thrilling the soul of man. The war in his own country was raging every day, and the flame of burning fleets and cities seemed to show by night, like the Boreal lights, in the windows of the West. There was the true battle-field of Europe,-- there the Volkerschlacht, the real battle of the nations; and Applegate's heart warmed to recross the sea and feel the' contact of those mighty bands of volunteers. But now he could not go, caught 'twixt these fires of love and emulation; and with a sigh he saw the boat of Agar return, -,she standing in it, tall and proud, and7 , page: 406-407[View Page 406-407] 406' DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. ardent like a fine greyhound. He took her place at the steering oar, and soon they were at the pier of the hotel in Lugano. "Everybody is upstairs in the sick boy's room," said the keen-eyed Swiss garcon, looking up from the book where he was studying English; "the doctor has been called; they say he is dying." Agar and Applegate passed up, hastily, and there they encountered all the party: Bruck, Hilt, Max, the negro Balboa, and Colonel Redan, looking on with re- spectful faces; for everybody liked Bolivar, while the thin, gnarled, oldish face of the la&-was spotted hectic- red, and his eyes were wide open, gazing abstractedly off into space, though his lips moved, and now and then he sought to rise up and speak, as if he were ardent to observe some far, violent action. Margaretha sat by the head of his bed, speaking to him tenderly. He made a childish motion of impatience, and said: "I can't hear you, dear. The sky, the light, every- thing is full of trumpets. Don't you hear them?" The negro Balboa crept up to Applegate with a rev- -erent face and said:- "Dem trumpets .de sogers hear, Cap'en, agwyn into battles wha' da never come out no mo'. He hears 'em, sartin!." Mrs. Oates was weeping in a chair, really troubled, and Mr. Oates was soothing her in his quaint, benevo- lent way. , - "Here's Applegate, Bolly!" cried Mr.' Oates, cheerily; "he has become a great soldier with the pis- tol, and knows lots of new stories." "That's it," said the sick boy, with his old, ringing DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. 407 voice, feebly delivered, -" battle stories! Gretchen's voice is sweet; but she talks of such religious things. Tell me, dear old shipmate, about the men and guns and horses I see floating and thundering over me yonder." The warm, wine-like light, lying over the lake, was t;hrown by the opposite mountain into the open window; but not a sound came with it, and the voice of Apple- gate, like a distant Sunday bell, trembled with emotion as he told the last story to this possessed young spirit, "You see perhaps the great battle in America, where all along the bright streams of Tennessee and Virginia the boys and young men stand on picket-line this after- noon, and hold the ferries, and crowd about the camp-fires, while listening to cannons that boom on left or right.' - \ "Boom, boom, they go," muttered Bolivar. "I like the noise, though it is painful; but then who cares for pain? "There they listen and rest, before they, too, advance to brave the rain of shot and shell, and while they wait with twitching, or laughing, or indifferent faces, the word comes to march in line of battle." "Hip hip -" cried Bolivar, out of his vision. 'These march under the beautiful new flag,- the newest in the earth and the most honored by the poor, caught full of stars in one place, and rippled by cur- rents of red and white. ThosC who come to meet them are also boys and young men, hopeful and brave like we; but their flag is only a part of the beautiful one, torn off in anger. Its ripples are few, its stars are not many; yet they carry it without fear." page: 408-409[View Page 408-409] "Huzza!" said the thin, little voice,- who's afraid?" "Now the soldiers of the two flags see each other, while yet afar off, and the kiss they despatch is a treacherous shell which bursts and murders. Next the cold cannons grow warm with passionate talk, and fill the air with deadly sounds. At last the rival bands come within sight of each other, and then the cruel work is sharp and quick, for none will give way in the moment of engagement, whoever may be wrong. You see them fighting in the clouds there, and brigade after brigade goes in to the sounding of the charge, the rattle of the drums, the piping of the brass bands, while the place of battle shifts from flank to flank, and no one sees the dead by whose side he shall lie directly. All see the enemy! Now, no man is powerful enough to advise to peace. The very angels hovering above the smoke are dumb and sick; and the few bad, spiteful counsellors who have set these brave fellows fighting die in the melee to be consistent, or hover back afraid. Farther back than these,--so far you -cannot see them,--hide the men who planted long ago, at the root of the flagstaff, the small bad acts which grew to causes of war between millions of the brave and proud: the slave-trader, the greedy Northern merchant, the consenting priest, the compromising or silent states- man. Those little seeds have wrapped themselves' round, mighty interests, round neighborhoods and relig- ions, and so the fight, begun before this bloody-age, sets the whole land in grapple now. The flags fly, each party calls on its mothers, its firesides, the names of its towns'and rivers, and only Heaven above is calm DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. 409 and radiant, which knows the end better than do we!" The pale-faced sufferer had followed it all with tenacious anxiety, and he muttered feebly:-- "Fighting it out! That's right!" Mrs. Oates burst into tears. "The darling little heathen!" she said; "how his poor, sinful mother has neglected him!" Bolivar partly heard the voice, and he cried in his cheery, wandering way: - "Mar, don't cry! I'll take care of you. Apple- gate and me are going into action now!" "He is almost worn out," said the Swiss doctor, feeling the lad's pulse, "his hand is cold, and yet his pulse rises with his feelings. He will go' out on one of these paroxysms of earnestness." "Do you know me, dear Bolivar?" whispered Applegate. "We are chums; we have been comrades; do you feel quite happy?" "All right!" came the clear little voice, and a dusky light of recognition over the gnarled, scarred face. "We were shipmates. We are going into action. We aint afraid!" Many were weeping now. Even Hilt's face lost its unconcern; the cold German features of Bruck showed grim feeling. Mr. Oates, standing by the bedside trembling with emotion, said pitifully:- "Stand by your articles of agreement, Bolly I Keep up the character of the firm!" "Tell more!" said the boy, "more conquerings That's the talk!" Applegate, overcome with his feelings, struggled to 18 page: 410-411[View Page 410-411] "O DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. support the earnestness of his narrative. He repeated snatches of tales of sacrifice, - Regulus keeping his word, Casabianca holding his post, - whatever might compel interest on the part of this frail, exorbitant pilgrim, and yet not rouse him unduly. The light on the lake grew grayer; the tints reflected from Mount Salvatore fellbsilvery -white upon the floor of stone; nature wore a soft and Sabbath-evening brow; and still this dying boy wandered in sullen fields, and wished to be comforted with talk of wars. "It is dreadful!" spoke Agar, -" no preacher, no prayer, no baptism, and this savage interest in fiendish things holding out to the last. Gretchen," she said, " good girl! true woman! I have- seen you pray. Make a sister's effort to win this child's soul fromn its. tormentor!" The eyes of the two women met, and Applegate noted how equal and mutual they seemed in respect and sincerity, and yet so unlike: Agar, slender and lithe, with her small head, and small, almost transp tr- ent features, representing the offspring of a high civili- zation; Gretchen, with the colors of the ruddy morning in her face, and the fulness of form and the vigor of the German peasant. The mistress looked like the last and most exquisite product of society; the maid was like the earliest virgin of nature, standing in the dawn, and radiant with its roses, prepared to be the first beloved of man, and the mother of a race. Gretchen looked at Agar only, then at the wearied boy, and she drew a breath that seemed to be a prayer. The many people gathered round watched her with interest, and she began to speak in a low, sweet DEATH OF THE FIGHl-TING BOY. 4" voice, which scarcely seemed to have a source, but filled the place like tender silence. It was the death of Christ she described, but to suit the boy's unhealthy mind she began it like a battle-story, with depicting the procession which passed to the hill of Calvary,- the horsemen to keep the space clear, the rabble turn- if iing out for holiday, the laborers to dig the pit for the cross. Then she told of the Roman soldiers coming to rendezvous in the" city to the sound of trumpets, the standards and pennonlls nwaving, the long lances shilning in the public square, the mounting guard about the Governor's quarters, the roll-call, and the reading of the orders for the day. Then the Governor appeared, the veteran Pilate, distinguished for his mingled firm- ness and policy, and while the. soldiers receive him in perfect stillness, the servile Jews cheer and clap their hands. They wish the bloody day's amuse- ment to begin, and shout aloud: "Bring out the con- demned ones! It is time!" At last the gates of the jail open. The chains are heard clanking, and the noises of the wretched or the wicked kept within : deserters, mutineers, drunkards, thieves. The three who are to be crucified appear at last, pale and faint from scourging and hunger, and the multitude howl with joy to see them. Two of the three shrink back with dismay before that wolfish, brutal cry, and at the rush of the mob they cling to the soldiery for protection ; for those are thieves and robbers, whose lives have been base and desperate. But the third, whose long bright hair is matted with blood, and whose forehead is trickled red where the hedge-thorns, plaited like a crown, stick deep into the flesh, -this man does page: 412-413[View Page 412-413] "2 DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. not shrink, but looks up with such mild, suffering eyes that some are moved to pity, who dare not say a word. Not so the many, who enjoy it all; for those were bloody times, and there is great laughter and hooting, and cries of: "See this king of us Jews! See his com- fortable crown. On to the cross!" Then the multitude rush ahead to get good places to see the execution, and only the women, the shop- keepers, and those who are obliged to stay at home, crowd round their doors and watch them bind the cross to this frail, silent man. The soldiers, used to such work, lift the stout, slender beams upon his back, and order him to march in the procession. The trumpets blow,-the pennons wave, and the troops and prisoners move along the narrow, irregular streets. Out of all the little windows peep girls and children, saying, "There goes the impudent preacher; that is he who even said he was born to be a fKing. HailI K1ing I ha! ha! All hail!" He staggers on, bearing the awkward load, and where he would' stop to rest on any door-step, the owner cries: "Not here! Move on!" They fill the air with hissing words; they make jests and mirth over the scene. The two thieves get few insults any- where; for all the hate and spleen is kept for this man. He hears them all, with sad, half-blinded eyes, and sweat, and blood, and sorrow, but he makes no reply; and at last they come within sight of the place of crucifixion, and hear the roar of the mighty multitude, pushing, swaying, waiting there. At this the poor man faints and falls, and they take the cross from his DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. 413 back, and make a gigantic bystander carry it the rest of the way. "What was the man's name?"-asked ]Bolivar, in a whisper. "There are so many men moving before me that I don't know this one." - "Jesus," said Gretchen; "his name was Jesus,"- and her face beamed like at angel's, -"he is the Captain of'our salvation. Oh, dear! try to hear me and to see him in your vision." "I will, Gretchen," answered Bolivar, in a thin, laboring voice, - "I will try. Only talk to me at this dark place. The streets are very dim." "Iy child," she said, "he is at the spot where he is to die. He is trying to bear his pain and be brave, for he wishes to die as the friend of all those who insult him. It is hard for any of us to die. It was hardest for him, because he was a King's Son, the Prince of the Highest, and he need not perish except by his own wish. Friends, angels, were near by'to rescue if he would only say, 'Come!' There was his poor mother, looking on, pleading perhaps for Heaven to befriend him. Everything urged him to give up, to live, except himself. The demons stood round his cross to scare him from the sacrifice. The heedless people defy him to show himself a King, a God, and save himself in sight of them. But he sees the poor babes in the arms of wicked mothers, laughing inno- cently at his agonies; the savage boys joining in the riot, and he thinks of the children yet to be born in all the many thousand coming years, and he submits to be stretched upon the cross for them." "Brave, brave Captain!" murmured the sick boy. page: 414-415[View Page 414-415] "4 DEATH OF THE FIGHTING BOY. o "Now the terrible instrument is reared in the air, and all Jerusalem hails it with a cheer. 'Come down! Come down from the cross! Dare to come down!' is, the far, mockhinp cry. tHis thirst and pain are dreadful. They torture hinm dying. He lies all day stretched out in agony, and only once he minakes a faint entreaty, for even Heaven has deserted him. The weary, glutted people, hearing this, lift up their shouts again, and he replies, 'My father, forgive these ignorant ones for whom I am sacrificed.' Then, in mercy, they pass a spear through his side, and all is finished. Dear Bolivar, do you see him now?" "I think I do," he answered; "the trumpets and drums have died away. There is something brighter than battle looking down. What is it, so beautiful?" ' It is the Captain, -the Jesus who died. Wish for him. Ask for him*. You are one of the boys he saw from his cross." "I do. -I will. O Gretchen, it is all dark but him!" "Listen, if you can," she said, " to what I am say- ing. -Follow it in your mind, after me!" and she began to repeat the Lord's prayer, in a clear, tender voice, in which all heartily joined. The lad with his thin, hard hands upon his breast, followed with his eyes, and so she said the reverent words till at the end, when she had uttered, "Thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory;,"- Bolivar raised up, and said, distinctly:- ( Yes, dear, I see the glory, I am going in." And so the fighting boy went in, under the brave Captain. GOOD-BY, SWEETHFTART. 415 CHAPTER XXXTV. GOOD-BY, SWEETHEART. THE time had come when Gretchen was to show her obedience by quitting Italy and Applegate. Ever since Bolivar's death, our hero had expected to hear her say that she was ready to go, and his minid was disturbed, and his thoughts reproached him. He was almost ready to beg her to relent and stay; but when he recollected her decision, her fortitude and her strength of charac- ter, he knew that she would no longer consent to change with his many humors, and, besides, matters with Agar had progressed so far that it was out of Applegate's power to longer conceal from Gretchen, if she remained, the precise situation. He was sitting in his room the afternoon of the day subsequent to the death, when a light knock fell on the door, and his heart recognized the sound. He cried, t Come in," and Gretchen appeared before him, not pale and sad as he was, but roseate with color, and placid like one who had not come to say good-by, but rather prepared for a pleasant stroll. Dear friend," she said, looking at him sweetly, "I have come to keep my promise. The diligence is at the door; my trunk is already packed; I start at once for Bellinzona and Bingren." page: 416-417[View Page 416-417] "6 GOOD-BY,- SWEETHEART. "So soon!" he said; " why, I thought we should have a long talk before we parted." "Obedience," she replied, "is the promptest servant. To hesitate, to wait, would be only sweet but painful procrastination, and make it harder at last to utter the words that we must say. Dear love, good-by. I go cheerfully at your wish." "Oh! tarry another day," he pleaded; "I have much to explain to you. You think me cruel, and I am, to put you to such a sacrifice. Let us spend a day upon the lake, and talk over our first friendship, and what may be yet reserved-for us." "No, dear, it is better for us to part. It is better for you, and it is not hard for me. Follow out your des- tiny; and, whenever you are willing, you will find me at Bingen." "Gretchen," he said, "I have a sort of prescience that we shall meet no more; not that I wish it, but I am oppressed with this feeling. Do- you share it?" "No," she answered, trustfully; "I think all will be right: Why should I have such dark anticipations? We have no enemies. Our love is mutual. For my- self; my heart is light and hopeful;, and I have faith in you." He felt that he was a traitor to belie a belief like hers; but he could not be so cruel as to undeceive -her *i ;at this parting moment. 'Suppose I should disappoint all your good expecta- tions," he said, holding her hand; "perhaps you have seen the best of me. Of late, I have felt the consum- ing fires of ambition. My days are more disturbed than when I was poor and destitute. I fear I have reached GOOD-BY, SWEETFEART. 417 too far bevond myself, and that I shall one day be cast down from my lofty ideal. Then, you will find, per- haps, that I am not worth having; when the vision has passed from -my life, the beauty may die out of my character." ," Say not so," replied Gretchen; " you study hard, and work and feel much, I know; but that is not unusual with an ardent nature. You will now be free from the service of Mr. Oates, and much of your despondency will disappear when you are relieved from that depend- ence. Keep your own heart pure, and be sincere.- I do not fear that your intellect or your courage will fail you. At the worst, remember my love." Then said rebuked Applegate, to try her still farther: "Suppose that, in my subsequent wanderings, I should even be untrued to my former life. I shall find many wild associates. If I should come back to you with the remorse of pleasure showing itself in my eyes, my nature darkened, and false to your beautiful religious affection, - what then, Gretchen?" "That will not be," answered the girl, with a look of surprise. "I know you too well, my friend. The earth has a petty part in your nature. Whatever happens, come to me when you will, and only assure me that you have been loyal and just in spirit, and that you have kept the gifts we exchanged as jealously as I re- tain these." And she showed the watch-key and the trinkets he had given her, at parting, on the ship. Applegate was silent and abashed. He had antici- pated this. He pressed her in his arms once again, and took a page: 418-419[View Page 418-419] "8 GOOD-BY, SWEETHEART. last kiss. He wished that he could continue forever that blissful, melancholy instant, as he hid his guilt in her blushes, and felt again the transport of his first pas- ieon. It was but an instant; she broke away and wiped the bright tears from her eyes, and as she passed out of the door, Applegate saw Hilt standing there, as if he had been listening. Hilt gave them both a piercing look, as if he understood the cause of their separation, but said lightly, "Mr. Shrink, I had something to say to you, but another time will do as well." "I have no time now, sir," answereid Applegate; and he followed Gretchen to the stagae, where Colonel Redtn and Agar were waiting to see her depart. Max was on the top of the diligence ,amongst the baggage, for he had received permission to accompany his sister as far as Bellinzona. Mr. Oates also came out of the hotel with crape round his hat, and he shook the German girl's hand, and said, "I lhave made a memorandum, miss, and sealed it with the great seal, never to forget you, and to come to your help. whenever you are in need. You and Applegate have been our best comforters in these sad days." Agar went up to, Gretchen and kissed her frankly. t"I shall miss you much," she said, " not only for your apt hand and willing spirit, but for your cheerful com- pany and your good heart. I think I have grown bet- ter, because I knew you. Your going is no wish of mine, Gretchen; when you- are gone, remember me sometimes as one who is glad to be called your friend." "You have a- right to be called so," answered Gretchen, "for you have been a friend much more than an employer;"- and they kissed each other again. GOOD-BY, SWEETHEART; 419 Apple,ate, looking on, felt that he was unworthy of the love of either. As the stage moved off, Gretchen, looking out, be- held handkerchiefs waving from the windows, and from the group in the street, and at this evidence of so much esteem for her, tears of gladness stole to her eyes. Applegate felt baser than ever. He alone of all the party had wished his sweetheart to leave them. He strolled along the border of the lake with mingled re- gret, shame, and satisfaction. He had reduced the number of his mistresses to one, although at what cost of peace of mind, of honor and of gratitude! He heard a quick step behind him, and when he turned, he saw the light, flippant face of Hilt. Applegate looked at him with condensed malevolence sternly in the eyes and said:- "I know of no business that you have a right to confide to me." "t No business, Shrink," answered Hilt, lightly, " only a little sentiment. I was wondering in my mind whether you are not more in love with that pretty Dutch girl, whom you have so unceremoniously dis- missed, than with the prouder, richer, and more aristo- cratic English girl, whom you still keep on the string." "You are impertinent," exclaimed Applegate. "Oh, no, only inquisitive. The fact is, Shrink, you have a little secret in your possession, which bodes no good to me. I allude to that small pocket-book of which I relieved you at Antwerp. Now, you have been telling about it; you told Miss Kent, for example, and she would like to give Bruck a hint about it if she page: 420-421[View Page 420-421] 420 GOOD-BY, SWEE THn MART. dared; but as she has been absurd enough to fall in love with Bruck's white coat and helmet, she has no desire to let certain remarkable letters now in my possession get to the eyes of that youth of gentle blood." "Coward!" said Applegate, "to take advantage of a woman's letters." "Or to send a poor Dutch girl, without friends back to Germany, when she has all the chance to get good wages and be with her lover. I think that is equally mean," said Hilt; "particularly when you have made another girl a present of the poor little trinkets and locks of hair which you received as pledges of be- trothal. Oh, do not start, Mr. Applegate, nor wonder how I know about it. I understand your whole game here, to get the poor girl away and capture the rich one; to become a great author by the use of an heir- ess's money; to run Bruck out, and perhaps to fight him,-for what else could have set you to practising with pistol and sabre these several months in the com- pany of that Dutch cavalryman?" "You bear out well your profession of a spy," said Applegate, pale yet enraged. Hilt also lost color rand looked confused. "Hark you, Mr. Shrink, I do not wish to tantalize you. I am free to admit that you have turned out a good deal more of a man of the world than your early promise indicated. Indeed, I have no wish to injure you unless you continue to expose me. It is impera- 'tive that Colonel Bruck should be kept ignorant of the little peccadilloes and errors to which I was tempted among those blackguards of the steerage. I do not - GOOD-BY, SWEETHEART. 421 want Miss Redan either to know that I was guilty of the small game of stealing your pocket-book. If I find you discreet upon this one secret, you shall never be exposed by me in your double wooing. You may have one, or either, or both of the girls for all I care., But Miss Redan is a girl of high spirit, and if she should hear of your treatment of Gretchen, she would. cast you away with contempt." "Once for all, Mr. Hilt," said Applegate, firmly, "I will have no compromise with you; I will promise nothing. If my conduct with either of these ladies will not bear close inspection, I am at least not coward enough to put myself under any obligation to you. I wish nothing to do with you. You are- beneath my contempt. Do your worst." Hilt stopped with a baffled, vindictive look. "We understand each other, then?" he hissed. "Perfectly," said Applegate. In more trouble and despondency than ever, Apple- gate turned down the narrow, winding streets of the town, and saw Colonel Red'n talking to Mazzinli on the border of the lake. A little boat was seen, far out in the blue water, which the Colonel: watched anxiously while he talked. In it was Agar, alone, gayly scudding before a sharp wind. Applegate took a long stroll, meditat- ing what should be his next -step in his new love affair, and he had gone some distance out of Lugano, when he was admonished by the deep blackness of the sky that an unusual tempest was rising. He started at a quick pace to reach the hotel before the storm should strike him, and when he had nearly gained his goal, a sort of spiral whirlwind came, like a revolving bomb- page: 422-423[View Page 422-423] 422 GOOD-BY, SWEETHEART. shell, violently up the water, rattling down the tiles from the house-tops, breaking off shutters, and hurling the few boats anchored in the lake against the quays. It was dark as the duskiest twilight, and while Apple- gate used his best exertions to reach the hotel without being blown into the water, he heard loud voices call- ing, amongst which was that of Colonel Redtn:-- "Gentlemen, help, help! My ward, my dear girl Agar, demands assistance. With my crippled arm I am almost powerless to handle an oar!" Applegate saw Hilt and Bruck looking with the Colonel out upon the wild, wave-tossed lake, and he heard Hilt's voice cry:- ":Bear a hand! She will go to the bottom in five minutes. - Her boat is full of water, and she can neither haul in sail, nor handle her heavy oars. Come, Bruck!" Agar's hands were now seen stretched out for aid. She had quite given up, and the whirlwind was beating volumes of water over her vessel, while the wind bore it under the surface at every blast. She was clinging to the sides, and crouching low. "I cannot sail a boat," cried Bruck. "I should embarrass you. My heart is with you; but I am a baby in tHie water. Get a more useful hand." "There's Shrink!" said Holt. "Come, younker, if you would distinguish yourself!" Applegate was embarked in a minute, pulling a long oar, and keeping well up with Hilt. They reached Agar at a critical moment; for her boat was sinking. Hilt grasped her in his arms and she fainted there. As he supported her, gazing into her face, a pathetic shame- GOOD-BY, SWEETHEART. 423 facedness came to Hilt, and 'he said, "Shrink, we are enemies; but you have earned the right, to relieve me of this burden. I am not worthy to bear it. Give me the oar!" Applegcate hastened to support the slender, yielding figure upon his breast. She recovered consciousness as she reached the shore, and she said, looking up grate- fully: - "My poor lover, you have risked your life to save mine!" "True," cried Colonel Redan; "Applegate is deeply in our debt. Benjaminl (to Hilt), you have behaved nobly." Agar looked at Hilt, with a sweet, pale face, and Applegate heard him say quietly, as if reproaching himself- "Sister!" From this moment Agar was more quiet in Apple- gate's presence, and he often saw her looking at Hilt with earnest inquisitiveness. The third day afterward found them at Milan, and in the evening of that day the Oateses and Applegate were sitting in the parlor of the Hotel de Ville, quite alone, Mrs. Oates sobbing querulously over a glass of warm punch, and iterating frequently: "My poor boy, Boli- var! "My poor dead boy!" "Oh! me! oh! me! when Mr. Oates said to Applegate in a touching, though off-handed way: "Young Shrink, give me your hand! You have complied with all the specifications. You exceeded your mere duties and threw in an item that you got no pay for: you loved our boy! I am sorry to discharge page: 424-425[View Page 424-425] 424 GOOD-BY, SWEETHEART. you from your contract. Your face was my security. I hate to give it up. But, Applegate, good-by! If I was ever of use to you I won by the investment. The fact is, old fellow, my business is going wrong in the States. A draft of mine came back to-day protested. The money we brought with us was ample; but those baize tables at Wisbaden, Hambourg, and Baden- Baden took in my wife. We wait only for money- letters to go home." "Oh! me! oh! me I " cried Mrs. Oates, "everybody in society played -roulette. I knew I should be up- braided for that." "You threw away a small matter of thirty thousand francs, my dear!" said Mr, Oates; "but as I don't think it a profitable job to quarrel over money lost, I shan't allude to it again! We are going as far as Flor- ence, Applegate. You are out of the woods now. I have paid you very little for your work. It is with pleasure that I give you now the full wages of a courier." 1 He laid upon the table forty Napoleons. "Mr. -Oates," cried Mrs. Oates, "this is extrava- gance. He did well to get bread. I can spend that money." 'Take it, sirl!" said Applegate; "you are always kind, but I did not expect this. I am already com- pensated." "Put it away in your pocket-book, young Shrink!" cried the Contractor, imperatively. "Here is something I wish you to wear for -for Bolivar's sake. It is his watch; Some day, when you have nothing else to write, tell of his pluck and promise." GOOD-BY, SWEETHETART. 425. They all sobbed together for a moment. "Take this advice, young Genius of Liberty," said Mr. Oates at last: "when you marry your little vrow, at Bingeh, rule her. A wife is always more loving if her husband is positive. I wish you joy, and luck, and large dividends. Good-night!" "God bless you, sir!" cried Applegate. "Mrs. Oates, I wish I could comfort you!" "Go on, young man," cried Mrs. Oates; "take care of your money. Travel third class! Look higher than the steerage for your wife. I wish you well!" When Applegate reached his room he knelt down, for the first time in a month, and prayed that Mrs. Oates might learn to love him. He slept better than he had ever done in Europe, because he was lifted out of the fear of poverty and the curse of dependence together. In the morning he counted his possessions. Six hundred and twenty gold dollars-were in his purse. With those that Gretchen guarded he had nearly a thousand gold dollars, -almost quintuple what he had counted ere he set sail from America. And the letters he had written were bringing him more money every week. What should he do with so great wealth? It was enough to marry upon, he thought. Incapable of dealing with so grave a question in his present agitated frame of mind, Applegate concluded to visit the Picture Gallery in the Brera, and decide at cooler leisure. It was a vast range of corridors and halls, with a court-yard before them, where, in the guise of a nude Mercury, the Napoleon of Canova stood in bronze. He page: 426-427[View Page 426-427] 426 GOOD-BY, SWEETHEART. held the Christian world in his right hand; his feet were winged; upon his staff the eagle of Gaul perched with extended wings. It was conceived out of the life of the man. Mercury's assumption did not ennoble Napoleon; -it seemed that Napoleon was dignifying Mercury. Within the gallery the early Lombard masters were arranged in order, Luini at their head, his masterpieces, cut from many an ancient panel of abbey or cathedral, crude in anatomy but of sweet expressions. VVhile Applegate looked at them Agar appeared. He led her to a seat, and pressed her 'to speak more clearly than she had yet ventured upon the subject of his passion. "You do wrong, my friend," she said, "to make so giddy a creature as myself the subject of your love. I should divert you from your true employment; for you are praised round all Milan for your brave words for this poor, oppressed Italy. See! here is your book, with a very appreciative preface, and I have read it with enthusiasm. Make your art your wife, or, if you. must marry, take some sweet, religious household creature like that beautiful Gretchen!" He looked troubled. "Do you know," she said, "that I have several times thought you deserved each other? She is poor; but what is that to aT man? She has refinements which riches cannot bring. I wish you could love her!" "O Aar!!" he exclaimed, "you trifle with me. Speak now, truly, do you not love me?" "A good deal," she said; "but I am afraid that I love you less than before you saved my life at Lugano. GOOD-BY, SWEETHEART. 427 An obligation is no help to love I Who is that hand- some and careless Mr. Hilt? "Do you admire him?" "There is something about him which fascinates me inexpressibly. He avoids me. Sometimes I feel a re- pulsion to him, but he is always a study to me." Applegate recalled their secret relationship, but he did not speak. Next day the whole party started for Genoa, and when they passed the battle-field of Marengo, Apple- gate suggested to Bruck, in the presence of Agar Re- dan, that he invite them all out to describe the Austrian tactics on that celebrated field. "Take care, Applegate," said Colonel Redan, stealth- ily, " don't push Bruck too hard. He has a bad color to-day." They shot througah long Apennine tunnels, crossed the treacherous and turgid River Po, beheld many ex- quisite vistas at the foot of the soft Apennine Moun- tains, and finally stopped at the railway station of Genoa, whence Applegate led the whole party to the Pension Suisse, - one of the many admirable and mod- erate-priced hotels of that name, kept in Italian cities by Swiss landlords. While they took dinner here, the head-waiter slipped down to the water-side to secure their tickets for Leghorn, and after dinner Colonel Re- dAn and Applegate sallied out for an hour to look at some of the palaces, to see the new monument to Co- hlmbus, and to visit the stalls of the workers in gold, filigree and coral. Genoa is a hard place for pedestri- ans, however, many of the lanes being almost perpen- dicular, and the pair confined themselves to the three or page: 428-429[View Page 428-429] 428 GOOD-BY, SWEETHEART. four level streets around the harbor, peeping into the Cathedral, and amusing themselves on one of the piaz- zas with a party of musicians and buffoons, around whom were gathered a swarm of drivers of asses, water-car- riers and tall, handsome sailors, while many of the women looking on wore the white veil around their heads, which is the pride of the Genoese. At night-fall the entire party-now reduced to six-stepped hn board of a batteau, and were rowed by two sturdy boat- men to the Italian post packet, which lay with steam up in the outer harbor. Colonel Redan and Applegate went forward amongst the coils of rope and piles of baggage which strewed the bows, and they looked out upon the crescent of the city, brilliantly lighted, so that it looked like a bow of light, the chord of which was suggested lby the tremulous shadow of the crimson lamp in the tall light-house on the mole. Above the silver rim of the city, the black outlines of mountains seemed like piled thunder-clouds, with timid winks of light to show where strong fortresses held the passes of the crest. The Colonel told Applegate the story of Massena's siege in Genoa, and thence the conversation passed to the lives of Doria and Columbus, contempo- raries and fellow-countrymen, and-both great sailors. - That was a wonderful contest between -the three Italian Republics, Genoa, Pisa and Venice," said Colo- nel Redan, musingly, "and it shows how little sympa- thy posterity has for all selfish commercial heroism. Those three cities which all barbarism could not over.- throw fell by the jealousy of each other, and' so, I often think, the great commercial nations of modern Christendom .are playing like selfish and suicidal parts. GOOD-BY, SWEETHEART. 429 While we are speaking together, American merchant- men are drifting torches upon the sea to light the envy of the British, and while France seeks to pierce the Isthmus of Suez by a canal, all English literature is one bitter prediction of her failure. One would think that life on the ocean would warm men's hearts toward each other; but in all ages the sea has been a viler theatre of animosity than the land. At the present day we are little farther advanced in maritime charity than when Pisa bent the knee to Genoa, or the horses of St. Mark dashed unbridled along the shores of this gulf." "Colonel Redan," said Applegate, "there is a more personal subject on which I would like to speak. I have tried several times to mention it to you, but your niece, Miss Reda'n, has commanded me not to do so; for it is she who is the topic of my thoughts. Your kindness to me forbids the further postponement of this grave matter. I have said to Agar that I believed I loved her." The old officer seemed to be profoundly affected, but -he said to Applerate:- ' You are right, Shrink. Be candid and fearless about it. How far have you gone in this affair?" Applegate then entered into a minute account of his new romance, sparing nothing in the recital except the fact that he had previously loved Margaretha. "You wish, I suppose, to obtain my consent to con- tinue your addresses?" "I do." The Colonel paced to and fro a little while, making no answer, and Appleg'ate, looking over the dark water, amongst the hundred stationary and moving lights, felt page: 430-431[View Page 430-431] 430 GOOD-BY, S)WEETHEART. a strange apprehension, that perhaps the reply; what- ever it might be, would result in his unhappiness. The Colonel, in a voice full of emotion, said to our 'hero after a time: -- "My young friend, you have commended yourself to me by many graces, and you know that I am not a man sensitive about worldly qualifications. To see my ward happily married to a man of honor ought to relieve me of my greatest responsibility; for Agar is rich, and does not require a, husband in the conventional sense of a protector. But she is very dear to me, and while I have seen-your growing, intimacy, and guessed it might ,have some seed in the affections, I am in doubt that my ward is in earnest, and I counsel you not to risk your happiness upon any light words which coquetry or way- wardness may have dictated to her. She is ambitious. She is beautiful. If you have found her heart where so many strong spirits have sought it in vain, it is the best testimonial to your talents you have ever received. I fear you are mistaken." A feeling of happiness for which he could not ac- count passed through our traveller at these words, but he replied seriously:-- 'c I have not, of course, pressed for a definite answer from your ward, for all our conversation has been of love,--little of marriage. But I entertain lo doubt that we understand each other, or I should not have committed this grave confidence to you." The old Colonel was even more visibly moved. "I can have no objection worthy of my principles, Applegate. You are poor; but that is a reason why a rich wife would not come amiss to you, and she might -OOD-BY, SWEETHEART. 431. find occupation and-amusement in directing her means to the development of your merits. I think, as a general answer, that you had better permit things to continue as they are for the present. I must hear from Agar's own lips that she is weary of the old man's tenderness, weary of the sight of his mutilated body, weary of his vigilance which began in her cradle and will be exercised till these eyes are dim." "O Colonel!-friend!" cried Applegate, "you are in the prime of life, and, with your activity and temperance and native strength, will outlive us all. I have often seen your ward watch you passing with pride and pleasure in her look." "Have you, indeed?" said the soldier, laughing. "Frequently! Why, only to-day she said to Miss Kent, 'There goes the best picture of Adonis that ever was painted with a silvery beard "' The Colonel laughed much louder at this, and shook Applegate's hand. "Shrink," he said, "you have behaved like yourself. Don't lose your heart too soon, -boy. It's an ugly anchor to slip. Be kind to Agar-but wait for de- velopments!" In the morning the piers and docks of Leghorn were revealed close by the steamer, which lay snugly at anchor, and after making a good breakfast the whole * party took the railway train for Florence. Passing through the edge of Pisa, in sight of the leaning tower and the Cathedral, they ascended the pleasant valley of the Arno, and at noon were in the Hotel de New York, in the city of Florence. page: 432-433[View Page 432-433] 432 A LEAF FROM VALLAMBROSA. CHAPTER XXXV. A TLFAV FROM VALLAMBROSAo A MONTHE in Florence was studiously and industri- ously spent by our hero in quiet rooms on the Via Parione. He had access to the most refined patriotic society, and the environs of the beautiful city afforded splendid promenades, which he often took, now with Miss Kent, now with Max, now with Colonel Redain and Agar. It was with Max that Applegate visited the moun- tain convent of Vallambrosa, a day's journey from Florence' and as it was at this retired spot that the next link in Applegate's story was forged, we cannot do better than let him describe his own impressions. The rest of the party followed him by a more circuitous route. APPLEGATE'S LETTER. "It was a few days before Christmas of the year 1863, that two of us took -the diligence on the Floren- tine Corso for the shrine of Vallambrosa. "Having the whole coupe to ourselves, we were considered aristocratic, and not minded when we peered into the interior to enjoy the sweet faces of two young Tuscan girls. Round and dark as ripe A LEAF FROM VALLAMBROSA. 433 olives, and set with eyes as hazel and soft as so many horse-chestnuts, and wearing coal-black hair, like some of Guido's Madonnas, but not a whit saintly in their full and shapely figures, which smacked more of this world than the next, they were still shy and staid, nest- ling under their wide Lehorn hats, which are here worn in mid-winter, and looking demurely at the bright, large figures of their gowns. Then there are a couple of fat priests, in wide hats and funereal blouses, who look as if they would sweat butter if it should chance to grow warm; and whehn they speak together in the pure music of Tuscany, I seem to hear so many pipes calling down the skylarks. The driver is a rollicking fellow, with no reverence, showing by the way he lashes the urchins at the roadside, and flatters the brown daugh- ters of the Contadini, and talks unintelligible eloquence to us, from whom he expects a fee, that the enlarged liberty of Savoy and Caprera has let out his waisthand considerably. We go straight through the Porta alla -Croce, past the old convent of San Salvi, --wherpe Andrea's Last Supper remains, --into stucco villages desolate with naked walls, and hanging tiles, and tiny windows fluttering with clothes to dry, and fields at rest till the spring suns come to make their jagged vines laugh with tendril and grape, and their knotted fig and mulberry trees bear up green, gossiping cano- pies. It is almost Christmas, but the wild roses are waving by the way; and yonder, in a garden, a lemon- tree is full of fruit. The road is hard with lava blocks, over whose hard, smooth surfaces, perhaps, went Guelf and Ghibeline, on mutual missions of murder, or the 19 page: 434-435[View Page 434-435] 43;4 A LEAF FROM VALLAMBROSA. last republicans of Florence wheeled their defiant gon- falon-on its sacred car. "Now and then we pass at some cross-road a petty grocery, dark and forbidding within, or an inn with a cedar bush over the door for a sign-post, and the title written above it of ' St. Peter's Hotel,' or the 'Hotel of the Cross.' The Arno flows always beside us, low and shallow and pebbly, with here and there a dam and waterfall, or rope ferry, where in a flat boat some stal- wart"fellow in velvet jacket waits for passengers. The mountains draw close to us at lenth, castle-crowned, and, far away, we see on the steep side of the Apen- nines, close to the summit, a tall, white tower, rising from a basin of the greenest fir-trees. "'That, Monsignore,' says the driver, with a crack of his whip, 'that is Vallambrosa.' "As he speaks, the bells of Florence flotat towards us o; the twilight, led by the old tocsin in the Campanile, and the sunset, like a lamplighter, sets every mountain- peak afire. A while they listen, and then grow mel- low and dim, till Vallambrosa, ten miles away, is lost in the darkness, and the tall mediaeval towers of Pon- tassieve open their gates to give us grim admission. "'Cutlets, wine, fire,' is our order, and the indolent inn-keeper passes the word to his daughter. She heaps in the huge chimney an armful of dry twigs, which blaze and crackle, till, by their weird illumination, the forms of our fellow-guests grouped around us grow ruddy and exaggerated, and the tossing shadows battle together upon the painted ceiling. "Here is a knot of noisy French 'drummers' for Paris houses, -small, ardent, nervous fellows, who A LEAF FROM VALLAMBROSA. 435 dwindle to pigmies by contrast with the huge bodies of the Cittading around them; yet those are the same wiry fellows who have a hundred times swept down the Alps upon these, and made them proud, by conquest,'to claim the title of Francese. In the night-time we stroll'about the town. It is rainy without, and the unlit streets are black and forbidding; the Arno moaning below like a woman sobbing in flight, and in the crevices of the dark, environing walls, looming up so massively, the gray sky looks like a bandit-spy, about to give up the place to sack and murder. Our chamber is bare enough, floored With stone, and painted in stencil, and hung with many rude, religious designs, under whose benign protection we sleep until the cocks make their matin chant, and then depart in the ashen dawn for breakfast at Pelago. "An ancient bridge spans the tumbling Sieve, and the road climbs the barren hill-sides, stumbling now and then at a farmer's gate, and at last the Arno, upon our right, goes foaming away to the south, while we press straight on till the little town, fourl hundred years older than the continent of America, sees us at the door of the 'Hotel du Bon Coeur.' Signora Chelazzi gives us her best beefsteak, and Gigi, the magistrate, tells us the path to the sanctuary. So away we go, over the little roofed bridge and up the steep stones, till we han, at last in the air, and see through purple distance Pelago clustering picturesquely beneath. "There, under the .shadow of its parish tower, was born Lorenzo Ghiberti, who modelled the gates of Paradise, - the same which Rogers and Crawford have imitated for the Capitol at Washington. He played page: 436-437[View Page 436-437] 43$6 A LEAF FROM VALLAMBROSA. with the ragged children at rolling from his sling the stone arretato, and bathed his bare feet in the rivulet where the turbaned washerwomen are kneeling and working and singing. By and by, as we go upward, a team'of oxen comes down the mountain path, dragging a sledge of fuel, and the sun rouses up to show us, far in the sky, Vallambrosa again, four miles above us. - We see it no more for a long time; for now the steepness of the mountains begins to tell upon us, and the hard, paved path we tread seems a cobweb, on which, far up, men and beasts are spiders ascending and descending, and the villages of Toso and Paterno are only tangles in the thread. The Ellero torrent is seen in I)antesque shadow deep below, and across the ravine we mark in the dry leaves and withered shrubs a flock of sheep grazing on the slopes, watched by chil- dren in bright costume. So had Giotto, tending his herds, been found by Cimabue sketching upon a stone; and, were we only painters, the tinkle of those pastoral bells might give us also inspiration. "Some months before, I had crossed the Alps, and marvelled how human folks could live and love and labor among the snows; far different was it here on the half-barren Apennines, where distance with her false, fond pencil had painted the mountains in a hundred hues, all melting into each other, and blending in her mirage not shapes alone, but sounds and flavors, -so that we seem to be sipping sensuousness at every breath; and the far cries of charcoal-burners, and shepherds, and teamsters, and wood-cutters float toward us, as through aisles .subterranean, or submarine, while the closer bird-songs fill the whole world with melody. C rVHW C N1rl NVII A TEAF FROM VALLAMBROSA. 437 "The road winds round and round, now by a bridge, leaping a torrent or a chasm, now seaming the preci- pice in dizzy terraces, now turning the edges of little towns, which stand upon a shelf scooped from' the steep, no bigger than a canary's cage; at last we come to the stone cross of Tosi, whence the valley of the Arno is seen as far as Florence, and now the winds be- gin to whirl the leaves, -the same which Milton cast into the demon-world:- "' Thick as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks In Vallambrosa, where the Etrurian shades, High overarched, embower.' "These are the refuse of giant chestnut, beech and oak trees, which fill knee-deep the crevices of the mountains, till the winds, charging obliquely, gather them up and send them spinning. Then the chubby Tuscan girls gather them in sacks, and pass them through the same process by which we make charcoal, so that the dust remaining is pressed in moulds and used for fuel. The charcoal-burners were smutty and brigand-looking, but the girls were fit for queens. All of them were mendicants, not so much from necessity as habit, "' Good signore, give me a few pieces of copper?' Signore Inglese, spare me a few soldo?' "'I will, my dear, if you let me count them in your pretty palm.' "'tere it is then; but stop, signore! You did not ask to press -my arm,' "'Give me a kiss to carry away to my cold coun- page: 438-439[View Page 438-439] 438 A, LEAP FROM, VALLAMBROSAo "Impossible, signore! Stay! are you going? Well, then, you may kiss me once' for one franc.' "' Extravagant!' "'Half a franc 1 But go away; you are rude; you have thrice kissed me, bold man! Now, if Fatther Christoforo should see you,--he often walks down thus far,-what would be said? And see! Giacobbe, my lover, is coming. Good-by! Much love, signore!' "The costumes of these people suit the atmosphere and foliage around them; their: red head-kerchiefs and their bright dresses tip with crimson the violent per- spectives, and lend to the deep sympathy with nature just a tone of the old Adam. "On and on we go, like the child in the nursery tale, still panting, still admiring, till all at once the solemn arms of the forest meet above us, and the sunshine ceases the pursuit. These firs of Vallambrosa are not more than fifty feet high, but over the stone path they are tangled in an unbroken roof of shade, which lenlds a solemn and mysterious awe to the lofty solitude, making the walk like the coolness of Gothic cathedrals; and, to intensify the illusion, there are stone altars at every rod,--the crumbling cross or the mildewed picture, while the deep, green intricacies of the forest surrounding seem filled with invisible whisperings, as if the winds were at confession. It seemed wonderfill to stand in this wild waste of firs, whose roots grew in the clouds, and whose song-birds were the thunders, and hear, as I did, all at once, the convent bells, directly above me, though where I knew not, clanging and swinging together for the noonday service. "Boom! bray! clang! jingle! , A LEAF FROM VALT AMBROSA. 439 "They called aloud like God himself saying mass in heaven close by, while all the archangels responded; and we, profane souls, touched only by the harmony, and but half comprehending, the spiritual sign,ificance, stood mute, and beckoning in dumb show, thrilled to the depth of our human superstitions. "Weary as we were of climbing the almost perpen- dicular way, the nearness of the bells encouraged us, and away we sped. Suddenly the convent burst upon us at a wink. We emerged into a wide meadow or plain, walled by thickly wooded precipices, at the far end of which lay the sanctuary,-a broad, deep range of irregular masonry, capped by two battlemented towers, and holding three hundred feet aloft, as in its -right hand, the little hermitagce of Paradisino. "Here, four miles from any habitation, four thousand feet above Florence, John Gualberto, eight hundred years ago, founded a monastery. In the act of slaying the murderer of his brother on Good Friday, the victim extended his arms in the form of the holy cross, and begged, by Christ's suffering, to be spared. Moved by the appeal, the armed knight consented, and together the two enemies bent before a crucifix, whose carved Jesus bowed its head in commendation. Thrilled to conversion, Gualberto became a monk, and to avoid the simony of other convents built himself a cell among the wild hawks of the mountains. "To the patroness, who wished to give his sanctuary an estate, the abbot replied that for his wishes a stone's throw of soil would suffice; but the stone he cast fell nineteen miles away at the gate of Florence. So the page: 440-441[View Page 440-441] "O A LEAF FROM VALLAMtROSA. , , Abbey became rich; its founder was canonized; for- ever since it has been a shelter for the thoughtful and persecuted. Hither the pale student, who must else have followed his feudal lord to brutalizing war, or vain crusade, came with -his precious books and conned and penned till in his gray or brown church habit they laid him in the cloister amongl his brethren. Hither, in a later time, when the 'world was aflame with revolution, climbed the frightened prelates, like so many fugitives from the deluge, scaling the highest tree-tops, and lay in these sacred cells, murmuring Latin prayers that Christ's kingdom might come again. Here dwelt old Areting, who, as our young misses may not know, in- vented the musical scale or 'gamme,' with its lines and spaces, and named the fa, la, so, mi, re, do, from the initial syllables of an eighth-century hymn. "The beginning of scientific music thus came from the mountain-tops. Here, also, John Milton, having visited the 'Tuscan artist' at Arcetri, came to spend many months of study and rest, and may have planned his divine tragedy within these shades. Here Hugford paid for his asylum by painting the portraits of the monks; here a hundred great thoughts, which never reached the lower world, have been born and struggled to find embodiment, and flickered away like the chest- nut leaves; and now only a group of degenerate and covetous, sleek and amiable fellows, bearing a conse- crate name (which, in the march of innovation, has almost become a reproach), haunt -the grim, storm- beaten sanctuary, ignorant of the precious worth of its fine library, and wishing only to pass their days in luxurious psalm-singing, sleeping and feeding. A LEAF FROM VATlTl&TRROSA. 441 "A fine paved path, lined with tall trees, leads to the monastery gate, and on the left of this a cool lake of limpid water holds in poise multitudes of mountain trout. This reservoir, called Acquabella, caused the site to be selected. When we rang the bell at the great gate, a sleek and hoary servant, in half-monkish dress, with a breviary in his hand, from which he said snatches of forgetful prayer as he crossed the convent yard, gave us admission. Had we been women the convent build- ing would have been obdurately closed to us; but not having the features to tempt holy men to broken vows, the old lay brother, in a shambling way, led us past the Foresteria, in the extreme end of the facade, where a roaring fire in a large chimney - not unlike Virginia hospitality -gave us warmth. Directly a tall and rosy young monk entered. He wore a small velvet cap, a long black robe, tied at the waist, sustaining a cross of jet, and black hose and walking hose. He was black- eyed and blushing, like an unmarried but cognizant and 'strapping' lad, and when we had passed the compli- ments of the season, he led us through a long hall till we reached the refectory. Here we were left, till the, dinner should be prepared, to study the paintings upon the ceiling, of owls, and peacocks, and half-nude dryads and naiads, and count the throbbing of the great clock over the mantel, and peep within the covers of certain ancient books near by in French and English, Some- ,body's Philosophy I recall among these, and I opened it at the chapter upon Vibrations, with a treatise on the Pendulum beneath my forefinger. I wondered if it would not be a pleasant'souvenir to carry from Vallam- brosa, to write a story upon some philosophic, monk, so page: 442-443[View Page 442-443] "2 A TEAP FROM VALLAMBROSA. absorbed in experiments upon the pendulum, and in his interest therefor, as to forget the masses inthe chapel, and sell himself to the devil. Such was the staple of popu- lar articles as I recollected them; but while I was nam- ing my characters, and contriving my plot, and boring my friends most volubly with the theory of the story, the good brother came in with a tureen of soup, and scattered my imaginings. "' He spread a snowy cloth, and laid very white plates, and gave us each a napkin. Then he opened a bottle of wine, made from the Abbey grapes, and blushed as if we were a couple of young women, the first he had seen. "Such maccaroni had never been made elsewhere. It was Friday, and we knew no meat would be forthcom- ing; so we took the soup for better or worse, and spared none of it. In the dark, amber liquid the rolls of maccaroni lay like fossil remains in crystal, and when we sipped, the savory essence filled all the porches of taste, tarrying a moment till every pore drank of its flavor; and when all was gone, we looked at Brother Paolo after a fashion which made him smile and blush together; the [looli meant ' more,' as plainly as Oliver Twist said it in the workhouse. Up, then, come the mountain trout five minutes ago they were splashing in Acquabella, before the gate; but were they alive it would be delightful cannibalism to devour them; and with such wine to wash one down, who would not be eaten? Every brown and smoking martyr has his own family sapidity; a pond of them should have .a sensible perfume; bone and car- tilage are equally sweet. . A LEAF FROM VALTAM1RROSA. 443 "Oh for an etymology of appetite to say how bounti- ful seemed this repast! It is one of the few recollec- tions which one is staggered to revive and baffled to describe. An omelet, which looks on the plate like some of Rubens's bright orange pigment on his pallet, and tastes as if made of the celebrated golden eggs, brings on the salt mackerel, which taste of Nantucket, and suggest the possibility of Acquabella being an outlet of Cape Cod Bay. Then we have stalks of celery two feet high, and white as the fingers of a Carrara Venus, delicately veined, which make a salad with' ambrosial oil, crushed from the fruit of trees we can see without the window. A bunch of grapes and a laughing apple finish the re- past, save a slice of Parmesian cheese, which caps the banquet, like a wafer upon a love-letter. "Will you smoke a cigar, Signore?' says Brother Paolo, laughing at our great appetite. He gives us each a long Tuscan cheroot, with an oat-straw drawn through it, which we extract with our teeth, and pro- ceed to breathe clouds of the bluest possible smoke, which convinces us more than ever that we live in the cirrus-domain. With our feet across the grate, love in our hearts, and hunger exorcised, - as can be seen by the dimensions of our waistcoats, -we think it would be a very good thing to take holy orders at once, if it be specified that the same dinner shall be given every day. We would make 'every day of the year a Friday. "However, the great bell in the tower rings five, and Brother Paolo is waiting to show us the convent. I "We follow him to the cloister, paved with stone, and crumblingly sculptured in the groined colonnades; page: 444-445[View Page 444-445] "4 A LEAF FROM VALLAMBROSA. there are some slabs in the walls, telling of feet, at rest forever, which used to patter to and fro, their owners muttering the prayers which repress fleshy aspiration and keep the wrinkled soul pure as the babe's. The stones they wore smooth with walking are piled upon their coffins now, and others have walked above them -and sunk to the same repose. Here in the wild mid- night the winds come tauntingly, like evil spirits screaming and yelling through the cold cloisters, as if to tell the doubting anchorites that they worshipped a lie and that there is no better life than this of the frosty mountain-tops; but while they chuclle and carouse, the sprinkled bell:-old Beladine--in the high tower, booms out to make them howl in rage; the next of the chime, strong Gulu, takes up the strain and roars amain; the spell descends to sounding Pega, to Beterine, to sweet Turketellum, at last to the hoarse giant Bartholomew; ere yet their thrilling chorus has died away, the painted windows of the chapel flush up, like a dead face in the resurrection, and the grand organ thunders on the night. The monks are heard chanting: - Ave, Begina ccelorum, Ave, Domina angelorum. And the demons, who die a thousand times with every holy iteration, speed down from Vallambrosa like the accursed swine possessed with devils. At least, Father Paolo said all this, and believed it, with one eye, while the other kept watch for our opinion. We asked, in return, to-'look at the chapel, filled with marble tombs, grotesquely painted, and in the sacristy there :were carved stalls in chestnut wood equal to the best A LEAP FROM VALLAMBROSA. 445 work of Verbruggen. The rooms of the brethren are jolly enough,- filled with aids to reflection and prayer. I was never before struck with the fact that it takes so large a quantity of machinery to run one good man. The library we were shown through a barred door; an unctuous priest was asleep in it over an interesting volume, and I was greatly concerned to know how the twenty or thirty monks could fill the entire convent. It is a very large quadrangular building, with two towers, and great enough to provide for a couple thou- sand men; its refectory accommodates two hundred at table. Folks are fed three days here without charge; but are expected to leave something behind them. We gave Father Paolo two francs and a half each for our dinners, - about the same that is paid at a Florentine table d'hote. An autograph of Milton is exhibited here, and the chair in which he used to read and sleep. "Having walked twice through the quadrangle, Brother Paolo sent us up to Paradisino. "A naked rock, jutting from the mountain behind the convent, and three hundred feet above it, holds upon its narrow ledge a small yellow building, within which is a handsome chapel. The old fellow who showed it hoisted a curtain behind the altar, and disclosed a rare miniature by Giotto, said to have been painted on the spot; opposite it, held in equal value, was a beautiful Andrea del Sarto. The Paradising is not much used now; the convent is heavily taxed, and the monks are cutting their beautiful timber to meet expenses. They should turn the place into a summer boarding-house. ; Anybody once going up there would be obliged to stay all the season, as it is one of the labors of Hercules to page: 446-447[View Page 446-447] "6 A LEAF FROM VALLAMBROSAo climb to it. Between the Paradising and the convent -and a stone can be dropped from the one to the other, though ten minutes is small time to make the transit-runs a torrent called Vicana, crossed by a petty bridge, beneath which it falls in cascade, a hun- dred feet, white as a rift of daylight. Standing di- rectly in front of the convent this waterfall occupies the mid-distance between the Celle and monastery, and re- minded me of the plumage of an angel, flying from one to the other. t-But the crowning panorama of the shrine leaped upon us when the lay-brother opened a door and let us out upon a small terrace on the edge of the steep. "The convent lay at our feet, its high tower reaching toward us and the white quadrangle and out-buildings scattered around it; the mountains in purple amphithe- atre, tipped with snow; the green forest of firs sloping away in front, and beyond, the populous Val d'Arno, speckled with a hundred .towns,- Florence, in plain perspective, watched by sere Fiesole, and far away the Mediterranean, between Pisa and Leghorn; while Sun- set, like an awkward painter, spilled his wonderful tints upon earth, water and sky. "'Far, far, in dazzling mirage, the crooked mountains rolled their huge folds, wrapping in the promised land, where, if history- ever be repeated, the world shall reel again with the fame of its glorious names: Dante and Galileo, Vespucci and Buenoroti, Alfieri and Giotto, Macchiavelli and Savonarola, Andrea and Ghiberti, Donatello and Fra Angelico, Cellini and Vassari. In that plain art lived its golden age, letters grew to re- ligion, philosophy, with its feet in .gyves, reached to A LEAF FROM VALLAMBROSA. 447 the stars and wrested their secrets, democracy defied the church and the world for four splendid centuries, and arms clashed in a hundred causes, but never with- out honor. Still, like that beautiful statue of Milo, entombed two thousand years, Florence stands erect, mutilated but sublime. She is the casket of the world, holding yet its crown-jewels. Her skies are the bluest, her altars still the purest, her spirit exists uncrushed. Other cities win admiration, or wonder, or pleasure, or regret; but Florence we love. Her heroes were not too stern, her tyrants not too sordid; a smile, like her sky, lingers around her history, and in her decadence she is draped with roses." t , page: 448-449[View Page 448-449] "8 THE DUEL AT ROME. CHAPTER XXXVI. THE DUEL AT ROME. IT was growing late in the winter when the company prepared to quit Florence for Rome. Applegate had received two letters from Gretchen, but he had answered in evasive and general terms; meantime he had been kept in suspense by Agar Redal, who seemed to enjoy his company, but had definitely refused to give him a positive answer until they should reach Rome. To Bruck she had behaved in the same unsatisfactory man- ner; but that phlegmatic officer found abundant sympa- thy with Miss Kent, whose passion for him grew with time and distance, and she told Applegate frequently that She longed to expose the true character of Hilt to him. "Captain Hilt," said Miss Kent, "seems to be, some- times, a man who has secret conferences with the Evil One. Sinister people meet him at strange places, -some to befriend him, and some, I think, who are watching him. I really feel as if I were living in the pages of some alarming old romance." "Has Colonel Bruck no knowledge of Hilt's villany?" "He seems to be subject to Hilt's bolder will. Bruck is not a man of great acumen, and he is better than you believe." THE DUEL AT ROME. 449 "If I were you," said Applegate, "I would defy Hilt. Explain to Bruck the circumstances of those let- ters, and get into the clear light again." "Oh!" said Miss Kent, bitterly, "I have no such opportunity. A woman cannot woo the man she loves." "I will demand them of Hilt, if you give me the right," cried Applegate, " and in the presence of Colo- nel Bruck. He is doing his best to make Bruck quar- rel with me on political matters; but I will try to make Hilt the principal, if I am yet in time." Miss Kent put the affair in Applegate's hands, and, when they set out for Rome by railway, Applegate took pains to secure a seat with Hilt and Bruck in the coupe of the diligence at Ficulle, where the rail ceased, and the slow mail-coaches continued the journey. When the baggage was transferred at Ficulle, Applegate no- ticed a curious figure amongst the porters, bustling with portmanteaus- carpet-bags, sacks and parcels, and at a full glimpse he suddenly obtained of this man, a cry of recognition escaped him. It was the face of the man Trample, Hilt's ancient enemy. The disguised person heard the voice of Applegate, and with a guilty look responded. In a moment he had disappeared. Miss Redan came to Applegate. "I have lost a small pouch, in which I carried only particular treasures," she said. "I missed it at Sienna. It contains some little mementos of- yours. Pray help me find it." At this moment the clear, ringing voice of Hilt was heard, cursing the porters. "You have stolen my portmanteau," he said, "ye page: 450-451[View Page 450-451] 450 THE DUEL AT nOMtE. beggars, ye beasts of burden! Recover it, or I will murder some of you!" They all began to search for the mysterious porter, but without avail, for the man had slipped away. Hilt heard him described with a shudder of superstition, and he looked dark and evil at Applegate and at all around him. The three young men were soon together on the road to Rome, galloping over the level places, dragged over the mountain spurs by oxen, passing within sight of deep black lakes, near towns built on solitary purple peaks, and into lofty, fortified villages whose gates opened before them at the sound of postilions blowing their bugles. Whien they reached the city of Orvieto and dismounted to take some coffee, Applegate ad- dressed Hilt in the presence of Colonel Bruck: "Captain Hilt, you have in your possession certain letters written to you by a countrywoman of mine, who did not know you as I do. They were the letters of a frank, independent, warm-hearted woman. She has given me the commission to recover them. I ask yon to 'deliver them up at once." "Cool," said Hilt, " upon my word! "If you refuse to do so, I defyr you to produce them -in the presence of Colonel Bruck, and let them be read. We wish none of your sinister interpretations of them. What they may express I am ready to define and ex- plain." "I should do nothing of the kind if I had them," an- swered Hilt, insolently; " but, fortunately for your deli- cious friend, they are for the-moment lost with my portmanteau. I shall recover them, of course, as I THE DUEL AT ROME. 451 have left express directions and offered rewards. By those letters I shall prove that the fair American is-" ' Stop!" cried Applegate, " till I explain your true character to your acqualltande and dupe. You are a scoundrel, a-" "Gentlemen, peace!" interposed the officer-like word of Bruck. "I will have nothing said against a lady whom I admire, nor can I permit Mr. Shrink to quarrel with Captain Hilt, till he has first satisfied me. Mr. Shrink, it has been our misfortune to be enemies from the beginning. I did not give you credit at first for your intrepidity and many accomplishments. Since I find that you are so capable, I call your attention to a passage in your book upon Italy and Austria, offensive to the service which I represent, offensive to me, and if you be a man of honor I challenge you to defend it with arms." Htilt listened with his old, light, flippant expression. "I know who has incited you to this, Colonel Bruck," answered Applegate; "you will find him out in due time. But I stand by all I have written, and I accept your challenge." "The weapons?" said Bruck, respectfully. "Pistols." "The time and place?" "Where you will." "Then," said Bruck, "I name the ruins called the Baths of Caracalla,-in the suburbs of Rome, but within the walls, and the time to-morrow afternoon at three o'clock." Applegate saw a postilion listening to this conversa- tion, and something in the man's appearance made him 3 * 'YU ,';NLL H CrrUUIL(UlVV LIILVUV Ulld: page: 452-453[View Page 452-453] 452 THE DUEL AT ROME. curious. The man, at a favorable moment, slipped up to Applegate and gave him a package of letters. "' What you want is here," he said; " do not betray me!x He drew his postilion's mask aside and showed the weary face of Trample, the indefatigable enemy of Hilt. "I am the thief of the portmanteau," he said, " but Hilt himself stole the casket of Miss Reddn. He stole it to do injury to you. Beivare of him!" The man again disappeared, and Applegate, much puzzled to know what injury Hilt could do to him, took a place inside the diligence. Miss Redan only was awake; for now it was dark night, and Miss Kent, Max and the old Colonel were sleeping. "We are approaching the Eternal City," he said; "to-morrow I must know my fate from your lips." "You shall hear it," said Agar, clasping his hand, affectionately.. "Where shall we meetIv' Applegate hesitated. "At the Baths of Caracalla, at four o'clock!" he an- swered. "I know the place well," said Agar; "we will make our tryst there.' In-:the forenoon of the next day they saw the first glimpse of Rome, -the dark, round -dome of St. Peter's. Soon after, the dull-colored towers and spires of the irregular city came to view, -nestling at the base of the seven memorable hills, where once the diadem of the world was passed from neighbor to neighbor. But it was not the view of the city itself which charmed our hero so much, as the noble mountains whose hues of purple and crimson, blue and gold, rolled over the THE DUEL AT ROME. 453 long reaches of the Campagna; and, spanning the inter- vening distance, he saw the faint thread of aqueducts carrying yet the water of those mountain springs which bathed perhaps the 'head of the dying barbarian, or lightened the agonies of Peter and Paul in their hours of martyrdom. Here and there, along the road-side, stood fragments of the Roman mile-stones, which told the returning conquerors how far they yet must go to meet the embraces of wife and children, and which br;ought a deeper sadness to the brows of the captives who saw, in their approach to the capital city, only the bitter triumph, the heartless butchery of the arena, or a life of slavery. They soon left behind them the herds of plhmging bulls which roamed through the long grass of the Cam- pagna; and now the wine-carts, with their tinkling bells, grew more frequent on the road-side, and they rolled down long defiles of garden-wall, covered with vines, and encountered groups of picturesque peasants, in the strange, rich dress of the Papal State, returning home from mass or market. At last, the diligence crossed the bridge of the Tiber, and Applegate looked at the dark and muddy flood with a strange wonder, as if this could be the stream into which Ccesar leaped with his "feeble temperament" when he challenged Cassius to swim. Now, the outlines of hills, whose sides were speckled with villas, gardens, and fragments of ruins, were clearly revealed above the winding ways of the city; but except the noble mountains in the dis- tance, there ,was but little in the scene to fill the dream of a traveller, and even when they passed the portal of the People, and the stage halted at the beck of the page: 454-455[View Page 454-455] 454 THE. I)DUEL AT ROM E. police, Applegate's first impressions of Rome were of dulness, darkness, and squalor. When Applegate came to deliver up his passports, he noticed that the police agents looked at him suspi- ciously, and then drew apart and conferred together. Then Bruck was called up and questioned by them, for they seemed to respect his Austrian insignia. - "What is the trouble?"asked Colonel Redan; -. are the passports not properly vised?" "It is Mr. Shrink," replied Bruck, " who is tjhe cause of the delay. The police agents say that he has been seen with Mazzini at Lugano; and that his cor- respondence and book have fallen under official censure here. It seems probable that he will not be permitted to enter the city at all." "Nonsense," cried the Colonel; " you can fix it-all, Bruck; assume the responsibility, and show your Kaiser's commission." "I amn very anxious to do so," exclaimed Bruck; "for it would go, hard with me if our friend should be left behind at this particular moment. I want to show him some famous ruins here, - the Baths of Caracalla, for example." "Yes," said Applegate, promptly, " it is to make that visit mainly, that I wish to enter here." It was at length arranged that Baron Bruck should be responsible for Applegate's behavior until the police agents had conferred with the chief authorities, and our hero was warned to consider himself under surveil- lance. The whole party therefore mounted anew, Bruck, Applegate, Max and Holt going to the Hotel P THE DUEL AT ROME. 455 Minerva, and the remainder were set down at lodgings which they had engaged on the Spanish Piazza. Applegate did not quit his hotel at all before dinner, and he took little heed of Max, who was to be his second in the impending duel, when Max made outcry 'about somebody having changed the position and ran- sacked the contents of his knapsack. It was in the early afternoon that Applegate and Max, the latter carrying the pistols in the same knap- sack strapped about his shoulders, left the Hotel Mi- nerva and took the winding way which led to the foot of the Capitoline Hill. - Max wore the dogged, semi- concerned look of a non-commissioned officer attending his Captain, but at intervals by the way he gave our hero notes and suggestiois as to how he should behave at the moment of firing, how to point his body sh as to expose the smallest surfahce to his enemy, and, finally, if wounded, how to behave so that he might lose no excess of blood or add to the poiOgnancy of his pain. Applegate listened with respect to this homely, prac- tical counsel of his well-meaning friend; but his thougrhts were otherwheres, partly wanderingf amongst the dreamy associations of these dark and narrow streets, but more about the soft and distant theme of her from whom he had rudely parted, to follow the fickle and dangerous light which might perhaps disap- pear upon this spot of impending peril, and leave him comfortless and remorseful, without even the assur- ance of his own heart that he had been true under temptation and could be worthy of the grief of Gretchen if he were dead. "Fear not, friend Max," said Applegate, "I shall not / - - ' * ^ page: 456-457[View Page 456-457] 456 THE DUEL AT ROME. disgrace you in the face of the enemy. But lest some- thing serious might happen, Max, I would like to say to you something which concerns yourself." ' Concerns Sergeant Maximilian Blume?" said Max, in simple wonder, -. "speak, bruder." "Yes, Max; or, rather, one very dear to you, and, whom once I thought very dear to me. I mean your sister Margaretha." "Ah!" said Max, with less wonder, " alvays a voman somevares!" "Max, my good friend, I hope that you will not think less of me. Perhaps you did not know that I was Gretchen's lover. Yes, she was betrothed to me. Perhaps at this moment she is waiting at Bingen, ill the perfect hope that I shall come to keep my word and make her my wife." i" O Master Applegate!" cried Max, with rising --feeling; t did you go so far with the poor fatherless girl? And then to court my Colonel's cousin at the same timie! Now, I see what made Gretchen leave us at Lugano; you sent her away to get a better chance with the other one. It was not brave nor right, Master Applegate. Look you, sir! you may be killed in this duel. Then Gretchen will get no husband, and you will have lost her the good wages she was getting; she will owe you a broken heart, and poverty besides. If you were not an American, Master Applegate, and bound in honor and courage to meet this German, I would refuse to be your second. Indeed, Mr. Shwink, I would make you fifist fight Sergeat Maximilian Blume." "Think not so badly of me, Max. Gretchen is even THE DUEL AT ROME. 457 now my banker to the extent of several hundred francs and in this package is every cent of which I am pos- sessed, and which I beg you bear to her as the only token I had left to give." The cavalryman drew back even more indignantly. "Ve have had hard times, Mr. Shwink, in Germany and in America, but I never yet knew any Blume so poor that one could offer him money to pay for wantonly distressing his sister. Mr. Applegate, I thought that you could feel for others. I have not understood you." "Hear me, Max," cried -Applegate, in bitter remorse, "this is the only instance in my life where I have acted with falsehood, and even now it seems to me some witchery. I thought that I loved Gretchen dearly, tenderly. She saved my life. She was my friend when I had none otherin Europe, and my sister, my only friend in America, was divided from me by the ocean. I was robbed, hungry, foot-sore, broken in spirit, starving." "We know what that is," said Max, meekly, "we poor German emigrants. I have. known it lying out in the rainy camp, with my only sister across the ocean, too. I humbly hope that your sister has found a truer lover." The tone and the words went to Applegate's heart. "Perhaps I deserve your worst of words," he said. "I cannot explain to you by what magic, by what wild, unaccountable impulsion my eye and my ambition were directed toward Miss Redan. There were little circumstances, Max, by which I then excused it; but the strongest of these will seem mean to you. Gretchen met me again, after our first parting, at the moment when my fortune turned from the lowest ebb. My 20 page: 458-459[View Page 458-459] 458 THE DUEL AT. ROME. spirit had been wounded, my pride trampled upon, and I was sensitive as a sick child. Yearning for encour- agement, for a friend, for one who could feel for me and reach down and lift me up, the beautiful and peerless woman, whom you know so well as the ward of your commander, appeared as that counsellor and patron. An accident suggested to me that her interest had taken the form of love. That discovery carried me from tny faith, from myself. All things wore a new color; I looked upon the past of deprivation and dependence as something to' be ashamed of altogether. A calmer period of good fortune has softened much of the reminiscence of that time of trial, and now I amn not ashamed of it. But at that first flush and flood of success, my friend, I was recreant, I was untrue. On the one side I saw a beautiful, gifted and queenly lady, offering me the best that she possessed, opening the gate to high social life sand to the higher intellectual domain of her- own lofty nature; and there was Gretchen, her servant merely, bound to me by an acquaintance- ship and a promise which reached back into the darkest pit of the period of my shame. A score, a hundred little irritations pushed me forward to take that irrev- ocable leap, after which I must choose between break- ing my word to one of two women, -and Gretchen is the victim." -Max listened with a long face, and for some time made no reply. "'Applegate," he said at last, "Ithen you really love my Colonel's cousin better than Gretchen Blume?" "Max," replied Applegate, frankly, " upon my worid Pf honor, if I have any honor left, I do not know,' THE DUEL AT ROME. G 459 The soldier gave a long whistle. "This would be very ridiculous," he said, "if love were not always ridiculous." "I know but this,"' continued Applegate, - " that I am where I am, not happy and yet prosperous, hemmed all round with difficulties and doubts, but resolved at least to meet this day's trial like a cool man. I ask you, my adopted countryman, to stand by me." "That I will do heartily," cried Max, carried away with Applegate's candor, " for I do not believe you are . half as bad as you think yourself." - "And, now, bruder Max, -bruders in spirit any- way,-since you will not let me send this gold to Gretchen, let me at least give it to the only other person in the world whom I can think of as worthy of it and in need of it; if I fall in this duel it is bequeathed to Maximilian Blume, my accomplished preceptor in pistol and sabre practice." Max laughed, and said in a blunt way: "It would not look well to take all a man's money for teaching him to shoot a pistol so badly, that he was killed. No! you will live to spend it all and more; but remember my directions.- There is one thing," continued Max, after a pause, " which I do not understand, - the changing of my knapsack at that tavern. The infernal Jesuits must have been peeping ia it; but they took nothing that I could miss." They were now standing at the foot of the great stone stairway which leads to the modern capital of Rome, and, ere they ascended, Applegate said in a changed tone: "Max, one request more, and to me it is a very earnest one. If I fall in this duel, let page: 460-461[View Page 460-461] "O' THE DUEL AT ROME. Gretchen never know of my unfaithfulness. Let her always believe that I was better than myself, and that I loved her as tenderly at my last moment as when she brightened the steerage of the ship' and comforted my dreams in poverty." "I will obey it," said Max, grasping Applegate's hand, "as if it were one of the Colonel's own orders." The novelty of his position had not still the effect of destroying Applegate's fine taste for the old associations of this extraordinary spot. He looked at the statue of the Emperor Antoninus, riding barebacked on his horse of bronze in the open court of the Capitol, and peeped over the brink of the Tarpeian rock, and sat a while in a pew of that old brick church amongst the barefooted monks, as Gibbon had done when he conceived the task of writing the decline of the Empire established here, and at last he climbed to the tower of the modern Capitol, erected by Michael Angelo, and looked abroad over the deep, dark, dirty city, which sank into the hollows of the ground, showed here and there in breath- ing holes remnants of heathen grandeur, climbed like s gypsy host in rags and sunburnt faces the undulations of the neighboring hills, till over the villa orchards shone the flat, clay plain of the Cavzpagna, and the purple and violet mountains which opened to admit the Tiber, and unclosed to dismiss it to the sea. "What a little theatre to produce so great a drama!" said Applegate; "their river the merest ditch compared to the Mississippi, the site of their city better adapted for a watering-place than the capital of a world; their sea little more than one of our American lakes; their farthest conquests hardly more distant than Chicago THE DUEL AT- ROME. 461 from Boston; their naval wars a series of Perry's vice tories on Lake Erie; the elephants of Htannibal which crossed the Alps, nothing to compare with the locomo- tives soon to descend the Sierra Nevada; their aque- ducts monuments of ignorance of hydraulics, and their vastest constructions in stone, their ponderous arms, and their scanty household comforts, show the pains they were at to substitute toil for inquiry, and sacrifice for thought. They put the body to the best use, and bequeathed the soul to the state. Hence their laws and polity remain potential to-day, and we have no state in Christendom equal in strength to the Roman; but their material edifices, to which they gave their bodies, are subjects of wonder chiefly, that so wise a nation should toil so hard for so little reason, should wearily raise domes of stone where we fashion the metals to loftier designs, and for their huge engines we put together some grains of earth, and boil a little water with which we might overthrow all Rome in an hour." "Yes," said Max; "the wild Indians that I have fought on the plains could march on Chicago or New York to-day, Mister Shwink, if we had not superior intelligence to them. They are better armed and as hardy, I dare say, as the barbarians who captured Rome." From this small eminence in the centre of modern Rome Applegate could see almost every object in the city. To the north he looked up the straight street called the Corso, a mile, to the gate of the People, by which he had entered, where the Pincian Hill and the Tiber compressed Rome into a narrow salient, and to the left of the Corso stood up the fortress of St. Angelo, i .; page: 462-463[View Page 462-463] "2 THE DUEL AT. ROME. St. Peter's, and the Vatican; to the right were many villas and gardens built along the sides and summits of the hills. Nearer the eye in the plain of the city were some noble fragments of the heathen age, - columns, colonnades, parts of temples, and dingy fountains turned to base uses, but putting to shame the stucco and tiles, the lava and plaster of Christian Rome. The Tiber and the hills pressed the city into a narrow neck again where Applegate stood, leaving an outlet round the base of the Gapitoline Hill on either side, aind these, diverging widely, revealed to, him, as he faced south- - ward, the chief glories of the old Imperial city. At his feet was the Forum, where the great public meetings had been held, a dirty square like a cattle-market, with triumphal arches, scraps of entablature and wrecks of temples and churches littering the borders and aisles. To the right of the Forum stood the wilderness of ruins called the Palace of the Coesars, and at the foot thereof towered the magnificent Coliseum, over the top of which stood the huge suburban church of the Lateran, where eveh now went a procession with the Pope, the suc- cessor of Cwesar, blessing the peasants from his carriage windows. Over the top of the Caesars' palace, Apple- gate saw the dark brick ruins of the Baths of Caracalla a mile away, where he was to encounter Bruck. "And- this is new Rome, Max!" said he; two hundred thousand priests, beggars, artists and visitors, and enough women and children to amuse them, en- closed within a wall twelve miles in circuit, which traces a resemblance to a deformed star. Twelve gates pierce the wall. Tile filthy Tiber river enters the walls and cuts one section off the star. Only a third THE DUEL AT ROME. 463 of the enclosed space is settled city; the rest is vine- yard, orchard, and country-house. Christian Rome is built out of the rubbish of Pagan Rome; feudal Rdme fortified its palaces by using Imperial Rome for a stone quarry. It looks to me like a horde of monkeys, jack- als, and poll-parrots inhabiting some deserted cemetery. I don't know, Max, whether they commit most sacrilege in taking the name of Christ or Caesar. A fraud upon pagan and Christian seems Papal Rome to me. Infal- lible but bankrupt; Caesar but begging; willing to take a loan from the Jews it oppresses; tendering advice to the world, though it has no newspapers; the solitary blot upon Italy; and all these Cardinals and Bishops of darkness look to me like the Princes of Satan taking counsel of each other in Pandemonium as to how they shall recapture heaven, or ruin Paradise." "There is nothing pretty here," said Max, "but the air, the plain, and those mountains. The city: looks like the mud or adobe towns I have seen in New Mexico." "There was a time," said Applegate, "a long time, when this one city was like a casket, keeping the pre- cious interests of the world: purity, patriotism, sac- rifice, family, science, law. Its institutions were wise enough for Christ to accept them, for St. Paul to appeal to them for justice; and the Roman Governor Pilate, acting in their mild spirit, would hate saved Christ from the fury of the barbarous natives of Jeru- salem. The-Jew was a low type of man compared to the Roman. Moses seems to have been little above iEneas David was a barbarian beside Julius Caesar, and the reign of Solonmon was petty to that of Augustus. While page: 464-465[View Page 464-465] "4 THE DUEL AT ROME. Solomon in savage Eastern magnificence illustrated his proverbs by his vices, every great Roman republican was a proverb in his life. The wild German instit-i tions remain to us mixed with Roman, counsel, -a anioli of liberty and order; but we have derived nothing from Judaism except a religious tradition. Christ himself was more Roman than Jew. But here they meet in a common ruin,- Jew, Roman, German,-- and I fancy that the Rome of to-day is a good deal like Jerusalem at the time of the crucifixion, occupied by foreign troops, full of proud, provincial Pharisees and a blood-thirsty rabble, and if Christ were. to come to the earth at present there is no- place where they would be so forward to crucify. him as in the city of his Vicar." "We must go," cried Max; "the spot is a good mile away."' They took a cab in the Forum, and were- driven rapidly round the base of the Palatine Mount -to the farthest slopes of the Aventine, where lay in monstrous confusion the remains of those vast baths, a whole mile, 'in circuit. A gate-keeper gave them admission by a key, and, locking the wicket behind them, left them to their- contemplations. They found themselves in a series of immense apart- ments, each as large as a fair-sized pasture-field, soft grass grbwing over the floors, and thick and broken walls of brick and masonry rising up to far heights. Wild bushes grew under the base of the walls and out of the crevices, and masses of curiously beautiful and hard mosaic littered parts of the ground; this latter had formed the ancient ceiling Passing under narrow . . . A , THE DUEL AT RO4ME. 465 arched ways they traversed yet other apartments, in some of which the walls showed the spaces where doors and chimneys, niches and alcoves, had once been placed. A narrow stairway -between the walls led to the roof of the baths, and walking along, a grassy path amongst bushes, wild vines, and clumps of brick-work, stirring a lizard under the foot, or driving out-some rat, or dis- turbing the blind meditations of some owl, they beheld yet other and quieter views of the city, and saw, near by, the snug and modest Protestant cemetery where Keats restednear the grave of Shelley. A feeling of inexpressible solitude came to Apple- gate as he looked down upon this mighty maze of ruins, now so desolate, where once in the splendid decay of Roman valor and liberty ten thousand idlers every hour had swarmed about the portals of these baths, some in them rags of poverty, some in the fine linen of princes, and all these long halls had echoed with music and oratory, dance and revelry, passion and debate. Now'-the wild birds screamed to each- other by night across these hollow apartments, rejoiced that the compass of their voices could reach so far, and in the silent hours, when no one was by to look, the massive mosaics detached themselves sullenly and- splashed upon the grass below, "Haunted and vast, like the human memory!" said Applegate, with a chilly feeling. "Oh! what ruins of ourselves we walk amongst, and by the echoes of the bright past we are mocked." The wicket opened and Hilt' and Blck appeared, the former carrying a traveller's sack k..hMe principals bowed to each other respectfully.; page: 466-467[View Page 466-467] "6 THE DUEL AT ROME. N 'ow, Sergeant Blume," said Hilt, "we are late, and shall have but a few minutes to ourselves. Every- thing is ready but the choice of ground. We will measure the distance and toss for positions." Applegate saw these preparations made with a list- less feeling. It seemed to be somebody else's quarrel, not his, and he a mere spectator. A year ago he would have thought it a crime no less than murder, and a weakness lower than cowardice, to contemplate such a part as he was to play to-day. But love, no less than wine, works wonders. "The pistols are loaded," cried Hilt, with a sneering look at Applegate; "the seconds will retire to the next chamber, so as not to be legal witnesses of the affair. Gentlemen, take your positions, and the arms will be presented to you. The word will be,' Fire--A. B. DI. -' You are in no case to fire before I call t A,' nor after I cry ' ).'" They took positions, and faced each other, twenty paces apart. The shadows of the dark walls fell cool and pleasant upon their faces. Applegate was so calm that Max thought it a bad sign. "Remember Gretchen!" said Max, as he handed the pistols to hisjfriend. "That remembrance, Max, wounds me more than he who stands yonder can do." The seconds retired, and the Austrian and the Ameri- can stood alone. A great piece of masonry and mosaic suddenly fell near by them, and the abrupt sound dis- concerted Bruck; but it woke Applegate from his half- trance. He took the measure of his opponent and aimed for his head. The clear, ringing voice of Hilt, THE DUEL AT ROME. 467 cheerful as when Applegate first heard it in the ship's steerage, presently called: - "Fire--A--B--C--" Both weapons exploded together upon the third letter, and the seconds rushed in. A spot of blood stood upon the temple of Bruck, but he did not fall. Applegate felt a sharp pang in his shoulder, and the warm trickle of blood down his arm. In a moment he fainted, and fell in the arms of Max. '"He has hit me, Captain!" said Bruck, quietly; "this should be a mortal spot. But I do not feel more than a sting." "Bosh!" said Hilt, laughingly; "he had nothing to kill with. But he put what he had in the right place." "What say you?" cried Max, levelling his pistol upon Hilt;-" has there been foul play here?" While the cavalryman hesitated as to whether he should blow out the brains of the Englishman, a shriek was heard, and Agar Redan appeared; with her guardian at the gate of the Baths. Bruck wiped the blood from his face, and saluted them politely. "What is this, Colonel Bruck?" asked Agar, with a pale face; "is it you who have wounded this boy?" - "Unfortunately, it was I." ' "Then do you never dare to speak to me upon a question of the heart again. Know, sir, that you have never for one instant had a lodgment in my breast. If you had, to-day's work would have made me hate you!" "Mademoiselle," answered Bruck, without emotion, i page: 468-469[View Page 468-469] "8 THE DUEL AT ROME. "I knew that you did not care for me. Our quarrel was a political one. The young man drew it upon himself, and he has behaved with courage." "It is that man who has made all this trouble," cried Max, with a ferocious scowl at Hilt. He is the spy, the scoundrel. He dare not stand up with me at ten paces and look in my eye." "Peace! Orderly," cried Colonel Reddn, and he turned upon Hilt with a glance of fire. ' "Intriguer, wretch!" he said, " your path is marked with ambushes. Your days and nights are numbered. Heaven is too merciful to lengthen out your worthless. hollow life. Begone!" "What man is this?" whispered Agar Redin, shrink- ing into her guardian's protection. "I feel fascinated and afraid in his presence. Tell me!" The old flippant, malignant smile fell upon Hilt's face, and he raised his hat and bowed. I regret to inform you, miss," he said, "that your honorable father was also mine, and that in the per- verse course of nature -- stronger than kin you are my sister!" He strode away with Bruck upon his arm, and Agar, a moment paralyzed with his insolence, hastened to Applegate's relief. The wounded boy recovered con- sciousness in a little while, and opening his eyes, said, feebly:- "The Baths of Caracalla -at four o'clock. Do you love me?" "Poor boy!" murmured Agar, "I loved another already when you besought me. I came to-day to THE DUEL AT ROME. 469 break the spell and set you free. AI:Ls! I am too late." Applegate closed his eyes and fainted again, with these half-uttered words: - / "Abandoned -a lonely land again!" page: 470-471[View Page 470-471] 470 THE GRAVEYARD AT BINGEN. CHAPTER XXXVII. THE GRAVEYARD AT BINGEN. THmEY placed Applegate in a bright room at the Hotel Minerva, where he could look out upon the Pantheon, and the Papal police and surgeons came at the same time to see him. It was found that our hero was wounded in the shoulder; but the physicians said it would be easy to save his arm, and that travel could not do worse than give him a fever. Now Applegate discovered how his cold and haughty German antagonist had elements of humanity and mlan- liness. It was Bruck who satisfied the police authori- ties by interceding with the Austrian Minister for our sufferer's safety and repose. It was Bruck who ex- onerated Applegate in the whole transaction, with Colonel Redan and with Miss Kent. He sent his enemy ices and cooling fruits; and at last besought the lady of his jealousy, and Miss Redan herself, to go to the bedside of the sufferer. The nobleness of the German was well contrasted with the light, con- temptuous, and triumphant behavior of the miscreant Hilt; but while Applegate had the magnanimity to ac- cept all the baron's generosity as freely as it was ten- dered, he refused to mention the name of Hilt, or to permit that wretch to trouble his thoughts. With all THE- GRAVEYARD AT BINGEN. 471* Bruck's assiduity, he was unable to make better terms with the Papal police than that Applegate should re-H main within the city but three days in strict seclusion, and at the end of that time quit the States of the Church by a steamer from Civita Vecchia. The whole party felt deep sympathy with our sufferere; and Colo- nel Redan and Miss Kent alike offered to place their purses at his disposal. "I thank you all," said Applegate, gratefully; "butt my means are sufficient. If I could only have Max Blume to be my companion as far as Marseilles, all would be well." "He shall go with you, not only to Marseilles, but to Paris, or where you will," cried the old Colonel. "I go to Bingen on the Rhine," was the reply, ut- tered in a low, doubtful tone. "But why to Bingen?" asked Agar. "Because there lives the only woman who loved me, and I, God forgive me! turned her away." He covered his face with his hands, and felt a deso- lation greater than he had ever known. ' Oh," said Applegate, "I would that I were on the dykes of Holland again, with my staff and bundle, with an empty pocket, but not with an empty heart!" "Poor friend," said Agar, profoundly affected, " will you believe me when I say that I was ignorant of this? I thought you but a boy, with the first dawnings of love in your mind. It was a novelty, an intellectual study to me to watch the timid developments of what I thought an evanescent passion. 'I have trifled with a susceptible heart. I am not worthy to be the friend of Gretchen." page: 472-473[View Page 472-473] 472 THE GRAVEYARD AT BINGEN. "There is but one request I would make of you, Miss Redan," said Applegate; "in a moment of mad- ness I gave you the betrothal-gifts of Margaretha. It was a grave relinquishment. If she should ask for them, what could I reply? I pray you return them to me." "My poor friend, they were in the casket lost or stolen between Florence and Ficulle." Applegate uttered a groan. "I see,"'he said to himself, "that demon Hilt has discovered my heart better than I knew it, and he has robbed me of my title-deeds. I am indeed ruined." Miss Kent came forward and said: "Unfortunate, good, brave friend. You told me you had recovered those letters from our common enemy. Give them to me." Applegate directed Max where to send for them; but that grim cavalryman reported that they, too, were not to be found. "My enemies are too powerful for me," sighed Applegate; " they are myself and Hilt!" He turned to the wall and sobbed. His great pride was gone. Wearily, silently, Applegate crossed the blue ex- panse of the Mediterranean; but the -soft islands which lay basking on the horizon, the marble cliffs along the shore, the purple mountains and the strange heathen shipping which crossed his course or followed astern, oppressed'him with a feeling that every object in nature was happy with light, and rosy with hope, except him- -self. He had, for a cold ambition, forsworn his heart, and made himself - as he had remarked to Agar, the THE GRAVEYARD AT BINGEN. 473 night he had parted with his sweetheart's keepsakes-- "an abandoned man ill a lonely land again." "Cheer up, bruder!!' cried Max; "do not break your heart for a woman. See what is passing. Yonder is Corsica, Bonaparte's cradle. There is Caprera, the rock of our friend Garibaldi. Cheer up; our Gretchen is a good girl, and you will find her all right. It makes no difference to a woman how a man behaves away from home, so he be sure to come back at last." But Applegate was not sanguine, and he tossed through the hours of the night, and sat morose all next day, until the harbor of Marseilles received him, and growing darker, bitterer, fainter, every hour, he was whirled past Avignon, past Lyons, past Chalons, Di- jon, Bensacon, Strasbourg, until he entered the Rhen- ish land again, and took the steamer at Manheim for Bingen. "Applegate," said Max, as they sat on the deck of the steamer, "you never fired a better shot in your life than in those old Roman baths. Do you know why you failed to kill Colonel Bruck?" teNo. g "You did not fire with a bullet. That scoundrel Hilt had manipulated my ammunition. See here!" Max toolk a bullet of the usual weight and shape, and crumbled it between his fingers. It seemed to have been pulverized, and kneaded together with soap, so that, on being discharged, it would fly to pieces. "This is the work of Captain Hilt," said Max. "You remember that I missed my knapsack at the hotel. He changed the ammunition at that time, and I afterward ascertained it from that crazy fellow, who page: 474-475[View Page 474-475] 474 THE GRAVEYARD AT BINGEN. used to wear the ragged leopard-skin. That old tramp was -actually present with us in the Baths, but he was too drunk or worn out to interfere. As it was, you put a speck of that bullet in the exact spot of Bruck's body for which you aimed." "I thank God that it happened so wisely," answered the other. "Bruck is a cold, stern soldier, but not without feeling. There is no blood upon my hands ex- cept my own." T"I am not so well satisfied," cried Max. "If I ever meet Mr. Hilt you shall see me blaze away on sight." It was a pleasant evening when they disembarked at Bingen, and made their way up to the little Square in the middle of the town, where the girls were drawing water from a perpetual fountain splashing musically there. Opposite the fountain were two or three clean, comfortable inns, and the snuggest, whitest, and neat- est of these was that of Gretchen's uncle. Max en- - tered it quietly, and led Applegate to a small parlor on an upper floor, where, as the wounded man laid down to rest, he heard a sweet voice, which pierced his heart, singing cheerily:- - Heart, my heart, oh! be not shaken, And still fondly bear thy pain " In a few minutes his discarded sweetheart entered the room, with a soft tread, bringing a fruity summer atmosphere around her, and when she lighted a long, wax candle, the light showed her more rarely, girlishy beautiful than ever. In a moment she was clasped in his arms. THE GRAVEYARD AT BINGEN. 475 "What is this, dear love?" she said, when she saw the blood; "you are sick, wounded; oh! what evil has happened to you?" "I am a little weak," said Applegate; "the joy of seeing you and finding rest has unnerved me." And he fell into a long, long sleep. When Applegate awoke, it was warm spring upon the Rhine. Gretchen sat by his bed, pale and thin after her anxious vigil, and she looked at him with a thoughtful tenderness, in which he recognized the first expression of doubt she had ever shown. He knew that she was wondering what mystery reposed beneath this blood, illness, and sudden reappearance of her lover. He was able, after a time, to walk to the window and look down upon the fountain and the square. Then he resumed his writing, with a weary head, and again his remittances of money came. A few times he descended to the wine and coffee room, where a few old villagers looked at him without curiosity; but Gretchen's con- servative uncle made a silent and penetrating study of his face and garb. Max had gone back to the service of Colonel Redan. It was wonderfully calm and peace- ful after the feverish, aspiring, worldly life of the past many months, and poor Applegate felt that he could dream here forever in the presence of his sweetheart, but her clear, searching, introspective eye was often fixed upon him; when he sat uneasily, wishing to revive the. pleasant confidence of their first affection. One clear, balmy evening he proposed to her-a walk by the side of the little River Nahe, and when they had crossed, a stone bridge and rambled along an old road cut amongst vineyards on the hill-side, they returned by a page: 476-477[View Page 476-477] 476 THE GRAVEYARD AT BINGEN. i bridge of boats -to the church-yard of the village, and Applegate sat down to rest. "Gretchen," he said, " you look worn and pale. You have watched me too faithfully, and you need rest. Dear girl, I am now well-to-do in health and purse. Make me happy by consenting to our marriage, and we will repair to Italy again, - to Paris, - to England, - any- where." She looked at him with her religious frankness and said:- "Applegate, there is some evil mystery beneath all this misfortune. Max has deceived me about the cause of your quarrel with Colonel Bruck. Your face tells the secret. I must hear the story from your own lips." He said that it was a man's affair of honor merely, a political quarrel, and he sought to make her composed. She drew from her bosom the pledges of betrothal he had given her upon the ship, and challenged him to. match them with his. 'Gretchen," he said, "I have lost them." "Lost them?" she replied, with a pale look. "Why, we have a German superstition that no marriage can be happy and blessed, if the gifts of betrothal are not produced. You have not told me all the truth, my friend, Was it by any negligence or fault of yours that such simple, valueless tokens have disappeared?" "Dear, wounded spirit," he said, "I must tell you the guilty truth, though you break my heart by your indignant punishment.". And he related every feature of the cruel story, ex- tenuating nothing, - She heard it with a pale, appealing, - 1& THE GRAVEYARD AT BINGEN. 4" mute face, and at the end she looked at him in a weary, distant, w:clering way, which made him shudder. "I seem to have dreamed all this," she said; " a chilly feeling, such as one has on awakening, passes from my wrists and temples to my heart. Why did you come to Bingen at all? Oh! I should have been so happy to have wited for you, even to old age, never suspecting this, beneving in you, dying with the memory of you clasped like a softer hope to my breast!" She looked away at the wide river, and the villages and vines, in the same lost way. "I came to Bingen," he said, " wounded and weak, to lay my sins at your feet, and ask you to lift me up." A flush slowly gathered upon her -bright face like clouds round sunset. "You did not knlow me," said Gretchen, low and meek, "to have surrendered my pledges, and to have lost them without a search I No! I cannot place my happiness for life in the hands of one so unstable. - We must go different paths. I am faint; pray lead me home!" "O once beloved, dearly wronged, beautiful one!" sobbed Applegate, " is there no penance, no lesser pain than separation, nothing that I can do to merit your affection again?" "Return with those pledges," she said; "seek them out, and perhaps the sacrifice of that pursuit may have made you pure when you look into my face at some future day." His heart sank down. "They are beyond recovery," he said ; " perchance they have perished." page: 478-479[View Page 478-479] 478 THE GRAVEYARD AT BINGEN. G I N She disappeared, saying no more, and a reckless feel- ing came over him. He repaired to the wine-shop and ordered a bottle of wine from Gretchen's uncle, and drank it in the old man's sight. ! "Hark you, young gentleman!" said the old man, after a long pause, (t we are alone, and I have something to say in the interest of yourself as well as my niece. You have fallen out, and Gretchen has gone to bed with a fever. Now, no one in Bingen knows of her love affairs with you, and there will be no scandal if you quietly depart. Max has told me all. You have treated the girl badly. .Give her a chance to get another hus- band, --one more nearly of her own condition, - or if you are still honorably-minded and want to marry her, go off and make your fortune, and return when your wild oats are sown." "You are right!" exclaimed Applegate; "tell her that I am dead.. If I appear again, it will be as a re- deemed man. But I will try to forget her, - or, what is better, forget myself!" When Gretchen revived, afte;r many weeks of illness, her uncle led her quietly to the church-yard and shewed her a stone. On it were the;words in English:- "ONE LOST ABROAD." "Niece," said the old man, "take care how you lose your heart again, and how you make others lose theirs. The American has reached the end of his journey." Gretchen knelt upon the stone and sobbed. "He is dead," she said. "God is wisest. I thank him that these dear ashes shall lie so close to me, and that I may place a flower above them every Sabbath." , '^ TTHE GRAVEYARD AT BINGEN. 479 Yes, Applegate was dead, but not beneath that stone at Bingen. He was dead in trespasses, dead in remorse and satiety, and dead in hope. The grave of his vir- tue and his pride was Paris,:-that Paris he had been tempted by Miss Kent to seek but a few months before, and which he had turned his back upon so indignantly. There, with boon companions, he saw the deeper gulfs of continental life, and worked with spasmodic intensity between the periods of his wild gayety, but ever at his heart lay the long unrest of an outraged love, the mem- ory of the beautiful one, the despair for Gretchen. We may not do our friend the despite to make his own mutations in Paris the subject of description. Let us for a while dismiss Applegate Shrink, and follow the careers of some of his acquaintances beggared abroad during the war. We shall conclude the story of Ap- plegate at the end of this episode.* * The two last chapters of the book will develop the issue of the main story, at this point suspended. [See page 563.] page: 480-481[View Page 480-481] APPLEGATE'S VISION. THE SOUTHERN COLONY. I. THE RUINED EXTTLES. Iw the latter part of October, 1863, seven very anxious and dilapidated personages were assembled under the roof of an old, eight-storied tenement, near the church of St. Sulpice, in the city of Paris. The seven under consideration had reached the catas- -trophe of their decline-and rise. They had met in solemn deliberation to pass resolutions to that effect, and take the only congenial means for replenishment and reform. This means lay in miniature before a caged window, revealed by a superfluity of light,--a roulette table, whereon ihe ball was spinning indus- triously from the practised fingers of Mr. Auburn Risque, of Mississippi. Mr. Auburn Risque had a spotted, sphynx-like eye, and a bluishy cold face; his fingers were the only movable part of him, for he performed respiration and articulation with the same organ, --his nose; and the sole words vouchsafed by this 'at present were : "Black - black - black - white - black - white - white -black "-etc. 480 %@tp TYIE RUINED EXILES. 481 The five surrounding parties were carefully noting upon fraigments of paper the results of the experiment, and likewise Master Lees, the lessee of the chamber, - a pale, emaciated youth, sitting up in bed, and cipher- ing tremulously, with bony fingers; even he, upon whom disease had made auguries of death, looked forward to gold, as the remedy which science had not brought, for a wasted youth of dissipation and incontinence. They were all representatives of the recently insti- tuted Confederacy. Most of them had dwelt in Paris anterior to the war, and, habituated to its luxuries, scarcely recognized themselves, now that they were forlorn and needy. Note Mr. Pisgah, for example,- a Georgian, tall, shapely and handsome, with the gray- hairs of his thirtieth year shading his working temples; he had been the most envied man in Paris; no womann could resist the magnetism of his eye; he was almost a match for the Great Berger at billiards; he rode like a centaur on the Boulevards, and counterfeited Apollo at the opera and the masque. His credit was good for fifty thousand francs any day in the year. He had travelled in fir and contiguous regions, conducted intrigues at Athens and Damascus, and smoked his pipe upon the Nile and among the ruins of Sebastopol. Without principle, he was yet amiable, and with his dashing style and address, one forgot his worthlessness. How keenly he is reminded of it now I He cannot work! he has no craft nor profession; he knew enough to pass for an educated gentleman; not enough to earn a franc a day. He is the protege at present of his washerwoman, and can say, with some governments, that his debts are impartially distributed. He has 21I page: 482-483[View Page 482-483] 482 THE RUINED' EXTT,ES, only two fears, - those of starvation in France, and a soldier's death in America. The prospect of a debtor's prison at Clichy has long since ceased to be a terror. There, he would be secure of sustenance and shelter, and of these, at liberty, he is- doubtful every day.' Still, with his threadbare coat, he haunts the Casino and the Valenting of evenings; for some mistresses of a former day send him billets. I-He lies in bed till long after noon, that he may not have pangs of hunger; and has yet credit for a dinner at an obscure cremery. When this last confidence shall have been forfeited, what must result to the Adonis, the Ajax? He is striving to anticipate the answer with this ex- periment at roulette; for he has a " system " whereby it is possible to break any grambling bank, -Spa, Ba- den, Wisbaden or Homburg. The others have systems also, from Auburn Risque to Simp, the only son of the richest widow in Louisiana, who disbursed of old ill Paris ten thousand dollars, annually. His house at Passy was a palace in miniature, and his favorite a tragedy queen. She played at the Folies Dramatiques, and drove three horses of afternoons upon the Champs Elysee. She had other engagements, of course, when Mr. Lincoln's ",paper blockade " stopped Master Simp's remittances, and he passed her yesterday upon the Rue Rivoli, with the Russian ambassador's footman at her back, but she only touched him with her silks. Simp studied a profession, and was a volunteer coun-s eel in the memorable case of Jeems Pinckney against THE RUINED EXTLES. 483 Jeems Rutledge. His speech, on that occasion, occu- pied in delivery just three minutes, and set the court- room in a roar. He paid the village editor ten dollars to compose it, and the same sum to publish it. "If you could learn it for me," said Simp, anxiously, "I would give you twenty dollars." This, his first and last public appearance, was condi- tional to the receipt from his mother, of six thousand acres of land and eighty negroes. It might have been a close calculation for a mathematician to know how many black sweat-drops, how many strokes of the raw- hide, went into the celebrated dinner at the Maison Doree, wherein Master Simp and his lady only had thirty-four courses, and eleven qualities-of wine, and a bill of eight hundred francs. In that prosperous era, his inalienable comrade had been Mr. Andy Plade, who now stood beside lim, in- tensely absorbed. Of late Mr. Phlde's affection had been transferred to Hugenot, the only possessor of an entire franc in the chamber. Hugenot was a short-set individual, in pumps and an eye-glass, who had been but a few days in the cityv. He was decidedly a manll of sentiment. He called the Confederacy "ow-ah cause," and claimed to have signed the call for the first Secession meeting in the South. He asserted frankly that he was of French extraction, but only hinted that he was of noble blood. He had been a hatter, but carefully ignored the fact; and, hav- ing run the blockade with profitable cargoes fourteen times, had settled down to be a respectable trader be- tween Havre and Nassau. Mr. Plade shared much of page: 484-485[View Page 484-485] the sentiment and some of the money of this illustrious personage. There were rumors abroad that Plade himself had great, but embarrassed, fortunes. He was one of the hundred thousand chevaliers who hail the advent of war as something which will hide their nothingness. -..... "I knew it,' said A'uburn Risque, at length, pinch- ing the ball between his h/ard palms as if it were the creature of his will. "My system is good; yours do not validate themselves. You are novices at gambling; I am an old, indurated' blackleg." It was as he had said; the method of betting which he proposed had seemed to be successful. He staked upon colors; never upon numbers; and alternated from white to black after a fixed, undeviating routine. Less by experiment than by faith, the others gave up their own theories to adopt his own. They re- solved to collect every available sou, and, confiding it to. the keeping of Mr. Risque, send him to Germany, that he might beggar the bankers, and so restore the Southern Colony to its wonted prosperity. Hugenot delivered a short caddress, wishing "the cause" good luck, but deglining; to subscribe anything.6 He did not doubt the safety of "the system" of course, but had an hereditaiy antipathy to gaming. The pre-- cepts of all his ancestry were against it.- Poor Lees followed in a broken way, indicating sundry books, a guitar, two pairs of old boots, and a ] canary bird, as the relics of his fortune. These, Andy 1 Plade, who possessed nothing, but thought he mi(ght I borrow a trifle, volunteered to dispose of, and Frecklle, ] Uxin lUIUlED EXILES. 485 a Missourian, who was tolerated in the colony, only because he could be plucked, asserted enthusiastically, and amidst great sensation, that he yet had three hu-. dred francs at the banker's, his entire capital, all of which he meant to devote to the most reliable project in the world. At this episode, Pisgcah, whose misfortunes had quite shattered his nerves, proposed to drink at -Freckle's expense to the success of the system, and Hugenot Was prevailed upon to advance twenty-one sous, while Simp took the order to the adjacent Marchand du* Vin . When they had all filled, Hugenot, looking upon timself in the light of a benefactor, considered it Lecessary to do something. "Boys," he salid, wiping his eyes with the lininFo f a kid glove, "will you esteem it unnatural, that a uth Kurlinian, who sat-at an early age, it is true -at the feet of the great Kulhoon, should lift up his oice and weep in this day of ou-ah calamity?" (Sensation, aggrieved by the sobs of Freckle, who, nused to spirits and greatly affected -chokes.) "When I cast my eye about this lofty chambah" lere Lees, who hasn't been out of it for a year, hides rmself beneath the bed-clothes) ; " when I see these ,ble spih-its dwelling obscu' and penniless; when I membah that two short years ago, they waih of in- pendent fohtunes - one with his sugah, anotha with 3 cotton, a third with his tobacco, in short, all the 3ssings of Heaven bestowed upon a free people, -: Ygars, plantations, pleasures! -I can but lay my oah hand upon the manes of my ancestry, and ask page: 486-487[View Page 486-487] 486 THE RUINED EXILTES. in the name of ou-ah cause, is there justice ab ove or retribution upon the earth!" A profound silence ensued, broken only'by ly r. Plade, who called Hugenot a mall of sentiment, and slapped his back; while Freckle fell upon Pisgah's bosom, and wished that his stomach was as full as his heart. Mr. Simp, who had been endeavoring to recollect some passages of his address, in the case of the Jeemses, for that address had an universal application, and might mean as much now as on the original oc- casion, brought down one of those decayed boots which the Marchand des Habits had thrice refused to buy, and said, stoutly:- - "By Gad! think of it, hyuh am I, a beggah, by Gad, without shoes to my feet, suh! The wuth of one nigga would keep me now a yeah. At home, by Gad, I could afford to spend thp wuth of a StaVing field- hand every twenty-fouah houahs. I'll sweah!" cried Simp, in conclusion, "I call this hard." "I suppose the Yankees have confiscated my stocks in the Havre steamers,".muttered Andy Plade. "I consider they have done me out of twenty thousand dollars.;" "Brotha writes to me,. last lettah," continued Frec- kle, who had recovered, " every tree cut off the planta- tion,- every nitgga run off, down to old Sim, a hun- dred years old, - every panel of fence toted away, - no bacon in smoke-house, -not an old rip in stable, - no corn, coon, possum, rabbit, fox, dog or hog within ten miles of the place, - house stands in a mire, - mire THE RUINED EXILES. 487 stands in desert,--Yankee General going to conscrip brotha. I save myself, sp'ose, for stahvation." "Wait till you come down to my condition," faltered the proprietor, making emphasis with his meagre finger -"I have been my own enemy; the Yankees will but finish what is almost consummated now. I tell you, boys, I expect to die in this room; Ishall never quit this bed. I am offensive, wasted, withered, and would look gladly upon Pere la Chaise,* if with my bodily maladies my mind was not also diseased. I have no fortitude; I am afraid of death!" The room seemed to grow suddenly cold, and the faces of all the inmates became pale; they looked more squalid than ever, - the threadbare curtains, the rheu- matic chairs, the. soiled floor, sashes and wall-papers. Mr. Hugenot fumbled his shirt-bosom nervously, and his diamond pin, glarin g like a lamp upon the worn garbs and faces of his compatriots, showed them still wanner and meaner by contrast. "Put the blues under your feet ,t" cried Auburn Risque, in his hard, practical way; "my system will- resurrect the dead. You shall have clothes upon your backs, shoes upon your feet, specie in your pockets, blood in your veins. Let us sell, borrow and pawn; we can raise a thousand francs together. I will return in a fortnight with fifty thousand!" * The great Cemetery of Paris, page: 488-489[View Page 488-489] 488 RA-ISING THE WINT).. O. RAISING THE WIND. THE million, five hundred thousand folks in Paris, who went about their pleasures that October night, knew lit- tle of the sorrows of the Southern Colony. Pisgah dropped in at the Chateau des Flewus to beg a. paltry loan from some ancient favorite. The time had been, when, after a nightly debauch, he had placed two hundred francs in her morning's coffee-cup. It was mournful now to mark his premature gray hairs, as, rest- ing his soiled, faded' coat-sleeve upon her manteau de velour, he saw the scorn of his poverty in the bright eyes which had smiled upon him, and made his request so humbly and so feverishy. "Give me back, Feefine," 'he faltered, " only that fifty francs I once tied in a gold band about your spaniel's neck. I am poor, my dear,-- that will not move you, I know, but I am going to Germany to play at the banks; if I win, I swear to pay you back ten francs for one!" There was never a lorette who did not love to gamble. She stopped a passing gentleman and bor- rowed the money; the other saw it transferred to Pisgah, with an expression of contempt, and, turning to a friend, called him aloud a witheringn ame. RAISING THE WIND. 489 Poor Pisgah! he would have drawn his bowie-knife once, and defied even the Emperor to stand between the man and himself after such an appellation. He would have esteemed it a favor now to be what he was named, and only lifted his creased beaver gratefully, and hobbled nervously away, and stopping near by at a cafe drank a great glass of absinthe, with almost a prayerful heart. At Mr. Simp's hotel in the Rue Monsieur Le Prince, much business was transacted after dark. Monsieurs Freckle and Plade were eingaged in smuggling away certain relics of furniture and wearing apparel. Mr. Simp already owed his landlord fifteen monthIs' rent, for which the only security was his diminishing effects. If the mole-eyed concierge should suspect foul play with these, Simp would be turned out of doors imme- diately and the property confiscated. , Singly and in packages the collateral made its exit. A half-dozen regal chemises made to order at fifty francs apiece; a musical clock picked up at Genoa for twelve Louis; a patent boot-jack and an ebony billiard cue; a Paduan violin; two statuettes of more fidelity than modesty, to be sold pound for pound at the cur- rent value of bronze; divers pipes, - articles of which Mr. Simp had earned the title of connoisseur, by in- vesting several hundred dollars annually, -a gutta- percha self-adjusting dog-muzzle, the dog attached to which had been- seized by H. M. Napoleon III. in lieu of taxes, etc., etc. Everything passed out successfully except one pair of pantaloons which protruded from Freckle's vest, and page: 490-491[View Page 490-491] "O RAISING THE WIND. that unfortunate person at once fell under suspicion of theft. -All went in the manner stated to Mr. Lees' chamber, he being the only colonist who did not hazard the loss of his room, chiefly because nobody else would rent it, and in part because his landlady, having swindled him for six or eight years, had compunctions as to ejecting him. Thence in the morning, true to his aristocratic in- stincts, Mr. Simp departed in a voiture for the central bureau of the Mont de Piete,* in the Rue Blanc Man- teau. His face had become familiar there of late. He carried his articles up from the curb, while the coachee grinned and winked behind, and taking his turn in the throng of widows, orphans, ouvriers, and profligates and unfortunates of all loose conditions, Simp was a subject of much unenviable remark. He came away with quite an armful of large yellow certificates, and the articles were registered to Monsieur Simp, a French subject; for with such passports went all his compatriots. Andy Plade spent twenty-four hours, meanwhile, at the Grand Hotel, enacting the time-honored part of all things to all men. He differed from the other colonists, in that they were weak,--he was bad. He spoke several lan- guages intelligibly, and knew much of many things,-- art, finances, geography, -just those matters on which newly arrived Americans desire information. His address was even fascinating. One suspected him to be a leech, but pardoned the motive for the manner. * The government pawnbroking shop. RAISING THE WIND. 491 He called himself a broken man. The war had blighted his fair fortunes. For a time he had held on hopefully, but now meant to breast the current no longer. His time was at the service of anybody. Would Monsieur like to see the city? He knew its every cleft and den. So he had lived in Paris five years -in the same manner, elsewhere, all his-life. A few men heard his story and helped him, -one Northern man had given him employment; his grati- tude was default. To-day he has sounded Hugenot; but that man of sentiment alluded to the business habits of his an- cestry, and intimated that he did not lend. "Ou-ah cause, Andy," he says, with a flourish, "is now negotiating a loan. When ou-ah beloved country is reduced to such straits, that she must borrow from strangers, I cannot think of relieving private indi- gence." Later in the day, however, Mr. Plade made the ac- quaintance of an ingenuous youth from Pennsylvania, and obtainingo a hundred francs, for one day only, sent it straightway to Mr. Auburn Risque. A second meeting was held at Lees' the third day noon, iwhenla the originator of the "system" sat icily grim behind a table whereon eleven hundred francs reposed; and the whole colony, crowding breathlessly around, was amazed to note how little the space taken up by so great a sum. They opened a crevice that Lees might be gladdened with the sight of the gold; for to-day that invalid was unusually dispirited, and could not quit his bed.: "We are down very low, old Simp," said Pisgah, page: 492-493[View Page 492-493] "2 RAISING THE WIND. smilingly, when either the possession or the loss of that amount can be an event in our lives." "You will laugh that it was so, a week hence," an- swered Auburn Risque, -"when you lunch at Peters' while awaiting my third check for a thousand dollars apiece." "I don't believe in the system," growled Lees, open- ing a cold draft from his melancholy eyes; "I don't feel that I shall ever spend a sou of the winnings. No more will any of you. There will be no winnings to spend. Auburn Risqce will lose. He always does." "If you were standing by at the play I should," cried Risque, while the pock-marks in his face were like the thawings of ice. "You would croak like an old raven, and I should forget my reckoning." Come now, Lees," cried all the others; "you must not see bad omen for the colony;" and they said, in undertone, that Lees had come to be quite a bore. They were all doubtful, nevertheless. Their crisis could not be exaggerated. Their interest was almost devout. Three thousand miles from relief;.two seas between, one of water and one of fire; at home, con- scription, captivity, death; the calamity of Southerners abroad would merit all sympathy, if it had not been induced by waste, and unredeemed by either fortitude or regret. The unhappy Freckle, whose luckless admiration of the rest had been his ruin, felt that a sonorous prayer, such-as his old father used to m ake in the Methodist meeting-house, would be a good thing wherewith to freight Auburn Risque for his voyage. When men stake everything on a chance, it is natural to look up " " RAISING THE WIND. 493 to somebody who governs chances; but Andy Plade, in his loud, bad way, proposed a huge toast, which they took with a cheer, and quite confused Hugenot, who had a sentiment apropos. Then they escorted Auburn Risque to the Chemin de fer du Nord,* and packed him away in a third-class car- riage, wringing his hand as if he were their only hope and friend in the world. *Northern Railwav Station. page: 494-495[View Page 494-495] "4 DEATH IN EXPATRIATION. "I. DEATH IN EXPATRIATION. IT was a weary day for the Southern Colony. They strolled about town,-to the Masque, the Jardin des Plantes, the Champ de Mars, the Marcheaux Chevaux and finally to Freckle's place, and essayed a lugubrious hour at whist. '"It is poor fun, Pisgah," said Mr. Simp, at last, "if we remember that afternoon at poker when you won five hundred francs and I lost a thousand." The conversation forever returned to Spa and Baden- Baden, and many wagers were made upon the amount of money which Risque would gain--first day--second day --first week, and so forth. At last they resolved to send to Lees' chamber for the roulette board, and pass the evening in experiment. They drew Jacks for the party who should fetch it, and Freckle, always unfortunate, was pronounced the man. He went cheerfully, thinking it quite an honor to serve -the colony in any capacity, - for Freckle, representing a border State, had fallen under suspicion of lukewarm loyalty, and was most anxious. to clear up any such imputation. His head was full of odd remembrances as he crossed the Place St. Sulpice: his plain old father at the old DEATH IN EXPATRIATION. 495 border home, close and hard-handed, who went afield with his own negroes, and made his sons take the plough-handles, and marched them all before him every Sunday to the plank church, and led the singing him- self with an ancient tuning-fork, and took up the collec- tion in a black velvet bag fastened to a pole. He had foreseen the war, and sent his son abroad to avoid it. He had given Freckle sufficient money to travel for five years, and told him in the same sentence to guard his farthings and say his prayers. Freckle could see the old man now, with a tear poised on his tangled eyelashes, asking a farewell benediction, from the front portico, upon himself departing, while every woolly-head was uncovered, and the whole assembled "property " had groaned "Amen " together. That was patriarchal life; what was this? Freckle thought this much finer and higher.. He had not asked himself if it was better. He was rather ashamed of his father now, and anxious to be a dashing gentleman, like Plade or Pisgah. Why did he play whist so badly? How chanced it that, having dwelt eighteen months in Paris, he could speak no French? His only grisette had both robbed him and been false to him. He knew that the colony tolerated him, merely. Was he indeed verdant, as they had said - obtuse, stupid, lacking wit? After all, he repeated to himself, what had the colony done for him? He had not now twenty francs to his name, and was a thousand francs in debt; he had essayed to study medicine, but balked at the first les- son. Yet, though these suggestions, rather than con- victions, occurred to him, they stirred no latent ambi page: 496-497[View Page 496-497] "6 DEATH IN EXPATRIATION. tion. If he had ever known one high resolution, the Southern Colony had pulled it up, and sown the place with salt. So he reached Master Lees' tenement; it was a long ascent, and toward the last stages perilous; the stairs had a fashion of curving round unexpectedly and bend- ing against jalmbs and blank walls. He was quite out of breath when he staggered against Lees' door and burst it open. The light fell almost glaringly upon the bare, con- tracted chamber; for this was next to the sky and close up to the clouds, and the window looked toward "the west, where the Sun, sinking majestically, was throwing its brightest smiles upon Paris, as it bade it adieu. And there, upon his tossed, neglected bed, in the full blaze of the sunset, his sharp, sallow jaws dropped upon his neck, his cheeks colorless and concave, his great eyes open wide and his hair unsmoothed, Mas-' ter Lees lay dead, with the roulette table upon his breast I When Freckle had raised himself from the platform at the base of the first flight of stairs, down which he had fallen in his fright, he hastened to his own chamber and gave the colony notice of the depletion of its num- ber. A deep gloom, as may be surmised, fell upon all.. Lees had been no great favorite of late, and it had been the trite remark for a year that he was looking like death; but at this juncture the tidings came. ominously enough. One member, at least, of the Southern Colony DEATrH IN EXPATRIATION. 497 -w-ould never share the winnings of Auburn, Risque, and now that they referred to his forebodings of the morn- ing, it was recalled thlat with, his own demise, he had prophesied the failure of " the system." His end seemed to each young exile a personal, admonition; they had known him strong and spirited, and with them he had grown poor and unhappy. Poverty is a warning that talks like the wind, and we do not heed it; but death raps at our door with bony knuckles, so that we grow pale and think. They shuddered, though they were hardened young men, - so unfeeling, even after this reprimand,- that they would have left the corpse of their companion to go unhonored to its grave; separately they wished to do so, - in community they were ashamed; and Pisgah had half a hope that somebody would demur when he said, awkwardly: - "The colony must attend the funeral, I suppose. God knows whlech of us will take the next turn." Freckle cried out, however, that he should go, if he were to be buried alive in the same tomb, and on this occasion only he appeared in the light of an influential Spirit. page: 498-499[View Page 498-499] "8 THE DESPERITE CHANCE. IV. THE DESPERATE CHANCE. DURniG all this time Mr. Auburn Risque, packed away in the omnibus train, with a cheap cigar between his lips, and a face like a refrigerator, was scudding * over the rolling provinces of France, thinking as little of the sunshine, and the harvesters of flax, and the turning leaves of the woods, and the chateaux overawing(r the thatched little villages, as if the train were his mail-coach, and France were Arkansas, and he, were lashing the rump of the " off"-horse, as he had done for the better part of his life. Risque's uncle had been a great Mississippi jobber; he took U. S. postal contracts for all the unknown world; route of the first class, eight horses and daily; route of the second class, semi-weekly and four horses; third class, two horses and weekly; fourth class, ono horse, one saddle, and one small boy. The young Auburn had been born in the stable, and had taken at opce to the road.- His uncle found it con- venient to plut him to work. He can never be faith- fully said to have learned to walk; and recalls, as the first incident of his life, a man who nursed a baby, and carried two bowie knives, teaching him to play old sledge on the cushions of a Washita stage. THE DESPERATE CHANCE. 499 Thenceforward he was a man of one idea. He held it to be one of the decrees, that he was to grow rich by gaming. As he went, by day or night, in rain or" fog or burning sun, by the margins of turgid south-western rivers, where his " leaders" shied at the alligators asleep in the stage-road; through dreary pine woods, where the owls hooted at :silence; over red, reedy, slimy causeways; in cane-brakes and bayous; past vil- lages where civilization looked westward with a dirk between its teeth, and cracked its horsewhip; past rich plantations where the negroes sang afield, and the planter in the house-porch took off his hat to bow, here, there, always, everywhere, with his cold, hard, pock-marked face, thin lips and spotted eye, Auburn Risque sat brooding behind the reins, computing, cal- culating, overreaching, waiting for his destiny to wrestle with Chance and bind it down while its pockets were picked. His whole life might have been called a game of cards. He carried a deck forever next his heart. Sometimes he gambled with other vehicles,-stocks, shares, currency, - but the cards were still his main- stay, and he was well acquainted with every known or obsolete game. There was no trick, nor fraud, nor waggery which he had not at his fingers-ends. J It was his favorite theory that there was method in -what seemed chance; principles underlying luck; measures for infinity; clues to all combinations. Given one pack of cards,-one man to shuffle, one to cut, one to deal, and fair play, and it was yet possible to know just how many times in a given number of games each card would fall to each man. page: 500-501[View Page 500-501] 500 THE DESPERATE CHANCE. Given a roulette circle of one hundred numbered spaces and a blindfolded man to pass the ball; it could be counted just how many times ia one thousand said ball would come to rest upon any one number. No searcher for perpetual motion, no blind believer in alchemy, clung to his one idea closer than Auburn Risque. -He had shut all themes, affections, interests, from his mind. He neither loved nor hated any living being. He was penurious in his expenditures--never in his wagers. He would stake upon anything in nature,-a trot, an election, a battle, a murder. "Will you play picquet for one sou the game, -one hundred and fifty points?" says a soldier near by. H-e accepts at once; the afternoon passes to night, and the lamps in the roof are lighted. The cards flicker upon the seat; the boors gather round to watch; they pass the French frontier, and see from their win- dows the forges of Belgium, throwing fire upon the river Meuse. Still, hour after hour, though their eyes are weary, and all the folks are gone or sleeping, the cards fall, fall, fall, - till there comes a jar and a stop, and the guard cries, "Cologne!" "You have won," says the soldier, laying down his money. "Good night." The Rhine is a fine stream, though our German friends will build mock-castles upon it, and insist that it is the only real river in the world. Auburn Risque pays no more regard to it than though he were treading the cedars and sands of Newt Jersey or North Carolina. He s peaks with a Franco-Rus- sian, who has lost in play ten thousand francs a month for THE DESPERATE CHANCE. 501 three successive years, and while they discuss chances, expedients and experiences, the Sieberngebierge drifts by, they pass St. Goar anDt Bingen, and the wonderful Rhine has been only a time, nothing of a scene, as they stop abreast Biberich, and, rowed ashore in a flaghoat, make' at once for the railway. At noon, on the third day, Mr. Risque having en- gaged a frlgaal bed at a little distance from Wisbaden, enters the grand saloon of the Kursaal, and turning to the right, sees before him a perspective, to which not all the marvels of art or nature afford comparison: a snug little room, with a table of green baize in the centre of the floor, and about the table sundry folks of various ages and degrees, before each a heap of glitter- ing coins, and in the midst of all a something which moves forever, with a hurtle and a hum,--the rou- lette! Mark them t the weak, the profligate, the daring. There is old age, watching the play, 'with its voice like a baby's cry; and the paper whereon it keeps tremu- lous tally, swimming upon eyes of perpetual twilight. The boy ventures his first gold piece with the re- solve that, win or lose, he will stake no more. He wins, and lies. At his side stands beautiful Sin, for- getting even its guilt for its avarice. The pale de- faulter from over the sea, hazards like one whose treas- ure is a burden upon his neck, and the roue,-blank, emotionless, remorseless,--doubling at every loss, walks penniless away to dinner with a better appetite 4 than he who saves a nation or dies for a truth. The daintily dressed coupers are in their chairs, eye- less, but omniscient; the ball goes forever, slaying or page: 502-503[View Page 502-503] 502 TIEE- DESPERATE CHANCE. anointing where it stays, and the gold as it is raked up clinks and glistens, as if it struck men's hearts and found them as hard and sounding, Mr. Risque advanced to the end of the table, and stood motionless a little while, drinking it all into his passionless eyes, which, like sponges, absorbed what- ever they saw, but nothing revealed. At last his right hand dropped softly to his vest-pocket, as though it had some interest in deceiving his left hand. Apparently .unconscious of the act, the right hand next slid over the table edge, and silently deposited a five-fralic piece upon the black compartment. "Whiz-z-z-z" started the ball from the fingers of the coupers -" click" dropped the ball into a black department of the board; "clink! tingle! shock!" cried the money, changing hands; but not a word said Auburn Risque, standing like a stalagmite with his eyes upon ten francs. "Whiz-z-z!'"--click!"I clink 1 " tintigle!" ' shock!" Did he see the fifteel% francs at all, half trance-like, half corpse-like, as he stood, waiting for the third revo-- lution, and waiting again, and again, and again? His-five francs have grown to be a hundred; his cold hand falls freezingly upon them; five francs re- place the hundred which he took away--"Wizz!" goes the ball; "click!" stops the ball; the cpuper seizes Mr. Risque's five francs, and Mr. Risque *walks away like a somnambulist. BURIED IN THE COMMON DITCH. 503 BURIED IN THE COMMON DITCH. IT would have been a strange scene for an American public, - the street corridor of the lofty house near the church of Saint Sulpice, on the funeral afternoon. The coffin lay upon a draped table, and festoons of crape threw ghastly shadows upon the soiled velvet covering. Each passing pedestrian and cabman took off his hat a moment. The Southern Colony were in the landlady's bureau enjoying a lunch and liquor, and precisely at three o'clock they came downstairs, not more dilapidated than usual, while at the same moment the municipal hearse drove up, attended by one coachee and two croquemorts.* The hearse was a cheap charity affair, furnished by the Maire of the arrondissement, though it was sprucely painted and decked with tapestry. The driver wore a huge black chapeau, a white cotton cravat, and thigh- boots, which, standing up stiffly as he sat, seemed to engulf him to the ears. When the croquemorts, in a business way, lifted the velvet from the coffin, it was seen to be constructed of strips of deal, merely, unpainted, and not thicker than a Malaga raisin-box. *Literally, Parasites of death. I; page: 504-505[View Page 504-505] There was some fear that it would fall apart of its own fragility, but the chief croquemtort explained politely that such accidents never happened. "We have entombed four of them to-day," he said; "see how nicely we shall lift the fifth one." There was, indeed, a certain sleight whereby he slung it across his shoulder, but no reason in the world for tossing it upon the hearse with a slam. They covered its nakedness with the velvet, and the coachee, having taken a cigar from his pocket, and looking K much as if he would like to smoke, put it back again sadly, cracked- his whip, and the cortege went on. ,The croquemorts kept a little way ahead, sauntering upon the sidewalk, and their cloaks and oil-cloth hats protected them from a drizzling rain, which now came down, to the grief of the mourners, walking in the middle of the street behind the body. They were seven in number. Messrs. Plade, Pisgah and Simp, going together, and apparently a trifle the worse for the lunch; Freckle followed singly, having been told to keep at a distance to render the display more impos- ing; the landlady and her niece went arm in arm after, and behind them a little old hunchbacked gentleman, neatly clothed, and bearing in his hand a black, wooden cross, considerably higher than himself, on which was painted, in white letters, this inscription:-- CHRISTOPHER TjFLFiS, CAROLINA DU NO'RD, ! ETATS CONFEDERE AMERIQUE. ] ' AGE VINGT-QUATRE o 4b ^.^..i.. w .ua Vjunjl .UlTN DIT'CH( t5r A wreath of yellow immortelles, tied to the cross- piece, was interwoven with these spangled letters :- R-E-G-R-E-T-S;" and the solemn air of the old man seemed to evidence that they were not meaningless. The hunchback was Lees' principal creditor. He kept a small restaurant, where the deceased had been supplied for two years, and his books showed indebt- edness of twenty-eight hundred francs, not a sou of which he should ever receive. He could ill afford to lose the money, and had known, indeed, that he should never be paid, a year previous to the demise'o But the friendlessness of the stranger had touched his heart. Twice every day he sent up a basket of food, which was dlways returned empty, and every Sunday climbed the long stairway with a bottle of the best wine - but never once said, "Pay my bill." Here he was at the last chapter of exile, still bearing his creditor's cross. "Give the young man's friends a lunch," he had said to the landlady; "I will make it right;"--and in the cortege he was probably the only honest mourner. It is not we, who know Frenchmen by caricature merely, as volatile, fickle, deceitful, full of artifice, who should sit in judgment upon them. He has the least heart of all who thinks that there is not some heart every- where ! The charity which tarrieth long and suffereth much wrong, has been that of the Parisians of the Latin Quarter, during the American war. Along all the route, the folks lifted their hats as the hearse passed by, and so, through slush and mist and rain, the little company kept straight towards the bar- page: 506-507[View Page 506-507] 506 BJURIED IN THE COMMON DITCH. riers, and turned at last into the great gate of the cemetery of Mt. Parnasse. They do not deck the cities of the dead abroad as our great sepulchres are adorned. Pere la Chaise is famed rather for its inmates than its tombs, and Mont Parnasse and Mont Martre, the re- maining places of interment, are even forbidding to the mind and the eye. A gate-keeper, in semi-military dress, sounded a loud bell as' the hearse rolled over the curb, and when they had taken an aisle to the left, with maple-trees on either side, and vistas of mean-looking vaults, a corpulent priest, wearing a cape and a white apron, and attended by a civil assistant of most villanous physiognomy, met the cortege and escorted it to its destination. , This was the fosse commune,--in plain English, the common trench, -an open lot adjacent to the ceme- tery, appropriated to bodies interred at public expense, and presenting to the eye a spectacle, which, considered either with regard to its quaintness or its dreariness, stood alone and unrivalled,. Nearest the street the ground had long been occupied, trench parallel with tren6h, filled to the surface level, sodded green, and each grave marked by a wooden cross.. There was a double layer of bodies beneath, lying side by side; no margin could of course be given at the surface; the thickly planted crosses, therefore, looked, at a. little distance, like a great waste of heath or bramble, broken now and then by a dwarf cedar, and hung to the full with flowers- and tokens. The width of the trenches was that of the added height of two -full-grown men, and the length a half mile perhaps; a BURIED IN THE COMMON DITCH. 507 narrow passage-way separated them, so that, however undistinguishable they appeared, each grave could be identified and visited. Close observation might have found much to cheer this waste of flesh, this economy of space; but to this little approaching company the scene was of a kind to make death more terrible by association. A rough wall enclosed the flat expanse of charnel, over which the scattered houses of the barriers looked widowed through their mournful windows; and now and then a crippled crone, or a bereaved old pauper, hob- bled to the roadway and shook her white hairs to the rain. It seemed a long way over the boggy soil to the newly opened trench, where the hearse stopped with its , wheels half-sunken, and the chief croquemort, without any ado, threw the coffin over his shoulder and walked to the place of sepulture. Fivefosseurs, at the remote end of the trench, were digging and covering, as if their number, rather than their work, needed increase, and a soldier in blue overcoat, whose hands were full of pa- pers, came up at a commercial pace, and cried:--- "Corps trente-deux/ " Which corresponded to the figures on the box, and to the number of interments for the day. The delvers made no pause while the priest read the service, and the clods fell faster than the rain. The box was nicely mortised against another previously de- posited, and as there remained an interstice between it and that at its feet,I an infant's coffin made the space complete. * The Latin service was of all recitations the most slov- page: 508-509[View Page 508-509] 508 BURIED IN THE COMMON DITCH, . enly and contemptuous; the priest might have beeln either smiling or sleeping; for his very red face ap- peared to have nothing in common with his scarcely moving lips; and the assistant looked straight at the trench, half covetously, half vindictively, as if he meant to turn the body out of the box directly, and run away with the grave-clothes. It took but two minutes to-run through the text; the holy water was dashed from the hyssop; and the priest, with a small shovel, threw a quantity of clods after it. "Requiescat in pace!" he cried, like one just awakened, and now for the first time the grave-diggers ceased; they wanted the customary fee, pour boire. The exiles never felt so destitute before; not a sou could be found in the colony. But the little hunch- back stepped up with the cross, and gave it to the chieffosseur, dropping a franc into his hand; each of the women added some sous, and the younger one quietly tied a small round token of brass to the wood, which she kissed thrice; it bore these words :-- -'.2 "- ttA mon ami" "A little more than kin and less than kind! i whis- pered Andy Plade, who knew what such souvenirs meant, in Paris. The colony went away disconsolate,; but the little hunchback stopped on the margin, and looked once more into the pit where the box was fast disa)p- pearing. "Pardon our debts, Mon Dieu!" he said, "as we pardon our debtors." Shall we who have followed this funeral be kind to the stranger that is within our gates? The quiet old BURIED IN THE COMMON DITCH. 509 gentleman standingc so gravely over the fosse commune might have attracted more regard from the angels than that Iron Duke who looked down upon the sarcophagus in the Hotel des Invalids. And so Lees was at rest, -the master's only son, the heir to lands and houses, and servants, and hopes. He had escaped the bullet, but also that honor which a soldier's death conferredcl,-and thus, abroad and neglected, had existed awhile upon the charity of strangers, to expire of his own wickedness, and accept, as a boon, this place among the bones of the wretched. How beat the hearts which wait for the strife to be done and for him to return! The field-hands sleep more honored in their separate mounds beneath the pine-trees. The landlady's daughter may come some- times to fasten a flower upon his cross; but, like that cross, her sorrow will decay, and Master Lees will mingle with common dust, passing out of the memory of Europe - ay! even of the Southern Colony. How bowed and wounded they threaded -the way homeward, those young men, whom the world, in its bated breath, had& called rich and fortunate! -Now that they thought it over, how absurd had been this gambling venture! They should lose every sou. They had, for a blind chance, exhausted the patience of their creditors, and made away with their last collateral,-- their last crust, and bed, and drink. "I wish," said Simp, bitterly, "that I had been born one of my mother's niggers. Bigad! a cabin; a wood fire, corn meal and a pound of pork per diem, would keep me like'a duke next winter." Here they stopped at Simp's hotel, and, as he was page: 510-511[View Page 510-511] 510 BURIED IN THE COMMON DITCH., afraid to enter alone, the loss of his baggage being de.- tected, the colony consented to ascend to his chamber. "Monsieur Simp," said the fierce concierge, "here is a letter, the last which I shall ever receive for you I You will please pay my bill to-night, or I shall go to the office of the -prud'homme; you are of the canaille, sir! Where are your effects?" "Whoop!" yelled Mr. Simp, in the landlady's face. Yah-ah-ah! hoora ah-ah! three cheers! we have news of our venture! This is a telegram!" "Wisbaden, Oct. 30tlz. Tile system wins! To-day and yesterday I took seven thousand one hundred francs. I have selected the 4th qf November to break the bank. '"Auburn Risque." THE OLD REVELRY REVIVED, 5" VI. TIE OLD REVELRY REVa1VED. THE colony would have shouted over Master Lees' coffin at the receipt of such intelligence. They gave a genuine American cheer, nine times repeated, with the celebrated " tiger " of the Texan Rangers, as it had been reported to them. Mr. Simp read the dispatch to the concierge, who brightened up, begged pardon, and hoped that he would forget words said in anger. "Madam," said Mr. Simp, with some dignity, "I have suffered and forgotten much in this establishment; we have an aphorism, relative to the last feather, in the English tongue. But lend me one hundred francs till my instalment arrives from Germany, and I will forgive even the present insult." "Boys!" cried Andy Plade, "let us have a supper! We-- that is, you--can take the telegram to our several creditors, and raise enough upon it to pass a regal night at the Trois Freres." * This proposition was received with great favor; the concierge gave Simp a hundred francs; he ordered : cigars and a gallon of punch, and they repaired to his room to arrange the details of the celebration. Freckle gave great offence by wishing that "Poor Lees" were alive to enjoy himself; and Simp said, page: 512-513[View Page 512-513] 512 THE OLD REVELRY REVIVED. "Bigad, sir! Freckle, living, is more of a bore than Lees, dead." They resolved to attend supper in their dilapidated clothes, so that what they had been might be pleasantly rebuked by what they were. "And but for this feature," said Andy Plade, t it would have been well to invite Ambassador Slidell." But Pisgah and Simp, who had applied to Slidell several times by letter for temporary loans, were averse, just now, to the presence of one who had forgotten "the first requisite of a Southern H Gentleman-- generosity." So it was settled that only the colony and Htugenot were to come, each man to bring one lady. Simp, Pisgah, and Freckle thought Hugenot a villain. He had not even attended the obsequies of the lamented Lees. But Andy Plade forcibly urged that Hugenot was a good speaker, and would be needed for a senti- ment. In. the evening a lunch was served by Mr. Simp, of which some young ladies of the Paris demi-monde par- took; the "Bonnie Blue Flag " was .sung with great spirit, and Freckle became so intoxicated at two in the morning, that one of the young ladies was prevailed upon to see him to his hotel. There was great joy in the Latin Quarter when it was known that the Southern Colony had won at Wisbaden, and meant to pay its debts. The tailors, shoemakers, tobacconists, publicans, grocers and hosiers, met in squads upon -corners to talk it over; all the gentlemen obtained loans, and, as evidence of how liberal they meant to be, commenced by giving %way whatever old effects they had. THE OLD REVE RY REVIVED. 513 A cabinet, or small saloon, of the most expensive restaurant in Paris was pleasantly adorned for the first reunion of the Confederate exiles. The ancient seven-starred flag, entwined with the new battle-flag, hung in festoons at the head of the room, and directly beneath was the portrait of Presi- dent Davis. A crayon drawing of the C. S. N. V. Florida, from the portfolio of the amateur Mr. Simp, was arched by two crossed cutlasses, hired for the occa- sion; and upon an enormous iced cake, in the centre of the table, stood a barefooted soldier, with his back against a pine-tree, defying both a Yankee and a Negro. At eleven o'clock P. M. the scrupulously dressed attendants heard a buzz and a hurried tramp upon the stairs. They repaired at once to their respective places, and after a pause the Southern Colony and convoy made their appearance upon the threshold. With the exception of Pisgah and Hugenot, all were clothed in the relics of their poverty, but their hairs were curled, and they wore some recovered articles of jewelry. They had thus the guise of a colony of barbers coming up from the gold diggings, full of nuggets and old clothes. By previous arrangement, the chair was taken by Andy Plade, supported by two young ladies, and, after saying a welcome to the guests in elegant French, he made a significant gesture to the chief waiter. The most luscious Ostend oysters were at once introduced; they lifted them with bright silver fourchettes from plates of Sevres porcelain, and each guest touched his lips afterwards with a glass of refined vermeuth. Three A. , page: 514-515[View Page 514-515] 514 THE OLD REVELRY REVIVED. descriptions of, soup came successively, an amber Jullien, in which the microscope would have been baffled to detect one vegetable .fibre, yet it bore all the flavors of the garden; a tureen of Potage a la Bisque, in which- the rarest and tiniest shell-fish had dissolved themselves ; and at the last a tortue, small in quantity, but so delicious that murmurs of "encore" were made. Morsels of viande, so alternated that the appetite was prolonged, - each dish seeming a better variation of the preceding, --were helped toward digestion by the finest vintages of Burgundy; and the luscious pates de foie gras - for which the plumpest geese in Bretagne had been invalids all their days, and, if gossip be true, submitted in the end to a slow roasting alive -introduced the fish, which, by the reformed Parisian mode, must appear after, not before, the entree. A Sole au vin blanc gave way to a regal Mackerel au sauce champignon, and after this dish came confec- tions and fruits ad libitum, ending with the removal of the cloth, the introduction of cigars, and a mar- quise or punch of pure champagne. It was a pleasant evening within and without; the windows were raised, and they could see the people in the gardens strolling beneath the lime-trees; the star- light falling on the plashing fountain and the gray, motionless statues; the pearly light of the lines of lamps, ;hining down the long arcades; the glitter of jewelry and precious merchandise in the marvellous beutiques; the groups which sat around the caf6 beneath, with sorbets, and glaces, and sparkling wines; THE OLD REVELRY REVIVED. 515 the old women in Normandie caps and green aprons, who flitted here and there to take the hire of chairs, and break the hum of couples talking profane and sacred love; around and above all, the Cardinal's grand palace lifting its multitudinous pilasters, and seeming to prop up the sky. It was Mr. Simp and his lady who saw these more particularly, as they had withdrawn from the table to exchange a memory and a sentiment, and Hugenot had joined them with his most recent mistress; for the latter was particularly unfortunate in love, being cozened out of much money, and yet libelled for his closeness. All the rest sat at the table, talking over the splen- dor of the supper, and proposing to hold a second one i at the famous Philippe's, in the Rue Montorgueil. But Mr. Freckle, being again emboldened by wine, and affronted at the subordinate position assigned him, re- peatedly cried that, for his part, he preferred the " old Latin Quarter," and challenged the chairman to produce a finer repast than Magny's in the Rue Counterscarp. Pisgah, newly clothed cap-a"-pie, was drinking ab- I sinthe, and with his absent eyes, worn face and chang- ing hairs, looked like the spectre of his former self. Now and then he raised his head to give unconscious i assent to something, but immediately relapsed to the worship of his nepenthe; and, as the 'long potations sent strong fumes to his temples, he chuckled audibly, and gathered his jaws to his eyes in a vacant grin. The gross, coarse woman at his side, from whom the other females shrank with frequent demonstrations of H contempt, was Pisgah's blanchisseuse. U page: 516-517[View Page 516-517] 5,16 THE OLD REVELRY REVIVED., He was in her debt, and paid her with compliments; she is old and uninviting, and he owes her eight hun- dred francs. Hers are the new garments which he wears to-night. Few knew how many weary hours she labored for them in the floating houses upon the Seine. But she is in love with Pisgah, and is quite oblivious of the general regard; for, strange to such grand occa- sions, she has both eaten and imbibed enormously, and it may be even doubted at present whether she sees anything at all. She strokes his cloth coat with her red, swollen hands, and proposes now and then that he shall visit the wardrobe to look after his new hat; but Pisgah only passes his arm about her, and drains his absinthe, and sometimes, as if to reassure the company, shouts wildly at the wrong places: "'At's so, boys!" "Hoora for you! "Ay! capital, genTl'men, capital!" And his partner, conscious that something has happened, laughs to her waist, and leans forward, quite overcome, as if she beheld something mirthful over her washboard. The place was 'unow quite dreamy with tobacco- smoke; Freckle was riotously sick at the window, and Andy Plade, who had been borrowing small sums from everybody who would lend, struck the table with a corkscrew, and called for order. "Drire rup!" cried Mr. Freckle, looking very at- tentively, but seeing nothing. "I have the honor to state, gentlemen of the colony, that we have with us to-night, an eloquent representa- tive of our country, - one whose business energy and enterprise have been useful both to his own fortunes and to the South,- one who is a friend of yours, and THE OLD REVLRY REVIVED. 517 more than a dear friend to. me. We came from the same old Palmetto State, the first and the last ditch of our revolution. I give you a toast, gentlemen, to which Mr. Hugenot will respond:-- "' The Mother Country and the Colony - good luck to both!'" "Hoorah for you I " cried Pisgah, looking the wrong way. The glasses rattled an instant, amid iterations of "Hear! hear!" and Mr. Hugenot, rising, as it appeared from a bandbox, carefully surveyed himself in a mirror opposite, and touched his nose with a small nosegay. "I feel, my friends, rather as your host than your guest to-niaht" ("It isn't yesternight- firom Freckle- "it's to- morroer night.") "For I, gentlemen, stand upon my hereditary, if not my native heath; and you are, at most, Frenchmen by adoption. That ancestry, whose deeds will live when the present poor representative of its name is departed, drew from this martial land its blood and genius." (Loud cries of "Gammoni" from Freckle, and disap- probation from Simp.) "From the past to the present, my friends, is a short transition. I found you in Paris a month ago, poor and. dejected. You are here to-night, with that luxury which was your heritage. A-nd how has it been re- stored?" ("'At's so!" earnestly, from Pisgah.) "By htrd, grovelling work? Never! No contact with vulgar clay has soiled these aristocratic hands. The cavalier cannot be a mudsill! You are not like page: 518-519[View Page 518-519] 51'8 THE OLD REVELRY REVIVED, the lilies of the field; they toil not, neither do they spin., You have not toiled, gentlemen, but you have spun!" (Great awakening, doubt and bewilderment.) "You have, spun the roulette ball, and you have won!" - (Ferocious and unparalleled cheering.) 'tAnd it has occurred to me, my friends, that ou-ah cause, in-the present tremendous struggle, has been well symbolized by these, its foreign representatives. Calamity came upon the South, as upon you. It had indebtedness, as you have had. Shall I say that you, like the South, repudiated? No! that is a slander of our adversaries. But the parallel holds good, in that wefound ourselves abandoned by the world. Nations abroad gave us no sympathy; our neighbors at home laughed at our affliction. They would wrest from us that bulwark of our liberties, the African." "Capital, gentleman, capital!"? from Pisgah. "They demanded that we should toil for ourselves. Did we do so? Never! We appealed to the chances, as you have done; we would fight the Yankee, but we would not work. You would filght 'the bank, but you would not slave; and as you have won at Wisbaden, so have we, in a thousand glorious contests. Fill, then, gentlemen, to the toast which your chairman has announced: "' The Mother Country and the Colony -. good luck to both I'" The applause which ensued was of such a nature that the proprietors below endeavored to hasten the conclu- sion of the dinner by sending up the bill. Pisgah and THE OLD REVELRY REVIVED. 519 the blanchisseuse were embracing in a spirited way, and Simp was holding back Freckle, who - persuaded that Hugeeot's remarks were in some way derogatory to himself--wished to toss down his gauntlet. "The next toast, gentlemen of the colony," said Andy Plade, "is to be despatched immediately by the waiter, whom you see upon my right hand, to the office of the telegraph; thence to Mr. Risque at Wisbaden: "'The Southern exiles ; doubtless the most immethodi- cal men alive; but the results prove they have the best system: no Risque, no winnings.' "You will see, gentlemen," continued Mr. Plade, when the enthusiasm had subsided, "that I place the toast in this envelope. It will go in two minutes to Mr. Auburn Risque!" The waiter started for the door; it was dashed open in his face, and splattered, dirty, and travel-worn, Auburn Risque himself stood like an apparition in the threshold. "Perdition!" thundered Plade, staggered and pale- faced; "you were not to break the bank till to-mor- row." The colony, sober or inebriate, clustered about the door, and held to each other that they might hear the d explanation aright. Auburn Risque straightened himself and glared upon all the besiegers, till his pock-marked face grew white as leprosy, and every spot in his secretive eye faded out in the glitter of his defiance. "To-morrow!" he said, in a voice hard, passionless, inflectionless; "how could one break the bank to- morrow, when all his money was gone yesterday?" page: 520-521[View Page 520-521] 520 THE OLD REVELRY REVIVED. "Gone!'" repeated the colony, Win a breath, rather than a voice, and reeliong as if a galvanic current had passed through the circle -"Gone!" "Every sou," said Risque, sinking into a chair. "The bank gave me one hundred francs to return to Paris; I risked twenty-five of it, hopeful of better luck, and lost again. Then I had not enough money to get home, and for forty kilometres of the way I have driven a chlarette. See!" he cried, throwing open his coat; "I sold my vest at Compiegfne last night, for a morsel of supper." "But you had won seven thousand one hundred francs!" "I won more -more than eighteen thousand francs; but, enlarging my stakes with my capital, one hour brought me down to a sou." "The 'system' was a swindle," hissed Mr. Simp, looking up through red eyes which throbbed like pulses. "What right had you td plunder us upon your speculation?" "The system' could not fail," answered the game- ster, at bay; "it must have been my manner of play. I think that, upon one run of luck, I gave up my method." "We do not know," cried Simp, tossing his hands wildly;, "we may not accuse, we may not be enraged --we are nothing now, but profligates without means, and beggars without hope!" They sobbed together, bitterly and brokenly, till Freckle, not entirely sober, shouted, "Good God, is it that gammon-head, Hugenot, who has ruined us? Fetch him out from his- ancestry; let me see him,- I THE OLD REVELRY REVIVED. 521 say! Where is the man who took my three hundred francs?" 'I wish," said Simp, in a Suicidal way, "that I were lying by Lees in the fosse commune. But I will not slave; the world owes every man a living!" "Ay!" echoed the rest, as desperately, but less resolutely. "This noise," said one of the waiters politely, "can- not be continued. It is at any rate time for the salon to be closed. We will thank you to pay your bill, and settle your quarrels in the garden." "Here is the account," interpolated Andy Plade, - "dinner for thirteen persons, nineteen hundred and fifty francs." "Manes of my ancestry!" shrieked Hugenot, over- turning the blanchisseuse in his vay, and rushing from the house. "We have not the money!" cried the whole colony in chorus; and, as if by concert, the company in mass, male and female, cleared the threshold and disap- peared, headed by Andy Plade, who kept all the sub- scriptions in his pockets, and terminated by Freckle, who was caught at the base of the stairs and held for security, page: 522-523[View Page 522-523] 522 THE COLONY DISBANDED. ') .VII. THE COLONY DISBANDED. THE colony, as a body, will appear no more in this transcript. The greatness of their misfortune kept them asunder. They closed their chamber-doors, and waited in hunger and horror for the moment when the sky should be their shelter and beggary their craft. It was in this hour of ruin that the genius of Mr. Auburn Risque was manifest. The horse is always sure of a proprietor, and with horses Mr. Risque was more at-home than with men. "Man is ungrateful," soliloquized Risque, keeping along the Rue Mouffetard in the Chiffoniers' Quarter, - - a horse is invariably faithful, unless he happens to be a mule. Confound men! the only excellence they have is not a virtue.- they can play cards!" Here he, turned to the left, followed some narrow thoroughfares, and stopped at the great Horse Market, a scene fanmiliarized to Americans, in its general features, by Rosa Bonheur's "' La Foire du Clhevaux." Double -rows of stalls enclosed a trotting course, roughly paved, and there was an artificial hill on one side, where draught-horses were tested. The animals were gayly caparisoned, whisks of straws affixed to the tails indicating those for sale; their manes and forelocks THE COLONY DISBANDED. 523 were plaited, ribbons streamed over their frontlets, they were muzzled and wore wooden bits. We have no kindred exhibition in the States, so picturesque and so animated. Boors in blouses were galloping the great hoofed beasts down the course by fours and sixes; the ribbons and manes fluttered; the whips cracked, and the owners hallooed in patois. Four-fifths of French horses are gray; here, there was scarcely one exception; and the rule extended to the asses which moved amid hundreds of braying mulets, while at the farther end of the ground the teams were parked, and, near by, seller and buyer, book in hand, were chaffering and smoking in shrewd good- humor. One man was collecting animals for a celebrated stage-route, and the gamester saw that he was a novice. "Do you choose that for a good horse?" cried Risque, in his practical way, when the man had set aside a fine, sinewy draught stallion. "I do!" said the man, shortly. "Then you have no eye. He has a bad strain. I can lift all his feet but this one. See! he kicks if I touch it. Walk him now, and you will remark that it tells on his pace." The man was convinced and pleased. "You are a judge," he said, glancing down Risque's dilapidated dress; "I will make it worth somethhing to you to remain here during the day and assist me," The imperturbable gamester became a feature of the sale. He was the best rider on the ground. He put his hard, freckled hand into the jaws of stallions, and page: 524-525[View Page 524-525] 524 THE COLONY DISBANDED. cowed the wickedest mule with his spotted eye. H knew prices as well as values, and had, withal, a dash. ing way of bargaining, which baffled the traders and amused his patron. "You have saved much money and many mistakes," said the latter, at nightfall. "Who you are?" "I am the man," answered Risque, straightfor- wardly, "to workl on your stage-line, and I am dead broke." The man invited Risque to dinner; they rode to- gether on the Champs Elysee; and next morning at daylight the gamester left Paris without a thoufght or a farewell for the colony. It was in the Grand Hotel that Messrs. Hugenot and Plade met by chance the eveningl succeeding the dinner. "I shall leave Paris, Andy," said Hugenot, regarding his pumps through his eye-glass. "My ancestry would blush in their coffins if they knew ou-ah cause to be represented by-such individuals as those of last even- ing." "Let us go together," replied Plade, in his plausible way; "you cannot speak a word of any continental language. Take me along as courier and companion; pay my travelling expenses, and I will pay my own board." - "Can I trust you, Suth Kurlinian?" said Hugenot, irresolutely; "'you had no money yesterday;" "But I have a plan of raising a thousand francs to- day. What say you?" " My family have been wont to see the evidence THE COLONY DISBANDED. 525 prior to committing themselves. First show me the specie." "Voila/" cried Plade, counting out forty Louis; "the day after to-morrow I guarantee to own eighteen hundred francs." It did not occur to Mr. Hugenot to inquire how his friend came to possess so much money; for Hugenot was not a clever man, and somewhat in dread of Andy Plade, who, as his schoolmate, had thrashed him re- peatedly, and even now that one had grown rich and the other was a vagabond, the latter's strong will and keen, bad intelligence made him the master man. Hugesnot's good fortune was accidental: his cargoes had passed the blockade and given handsome returns; -but he shared none of the dangers, and the traffic re- quired no. particular skill. Hugenot was, briefly, a favorite of circumstances. The war-wind, which had toppled down many a loing, thoughtful head, carried this inflated person to greatness. They are well contrasted, now that they speak. The merchant, elaborately dressed, varnished pumps upon his effeminate feet, every hair taught its curve and di- rection, the lunette perched upon no nose to speak of, and the wavering, vacillating eye, which has no higher regard than his own miniature figure. Above rises the vagabond, straight, athletic, and, courageous though a knave. He is so much of a man physically and intellectually, that we do not see his faded coat-collar, frayed cuffs, worn buttons and untidy boots. He is so little of a man morally, that, to any observer who looks twice, the plausibility of the face will fail to deceive. The eye is page: 526-527[View Page 526-527] -526 THE COLONY DISBANDED. deep and direct, but the high, jutting forehead above is like a table of stone, bearing the ten broken com- mandments. He keeps the lips ajar in a smile, or shut in a resolve, to hide their sensuality, and the fine black beard conceals the massive contour of jaws which are cruel as hunger. It was strange that Plade, with his clear conception, should do less than despise his acquaintance. On the contrary, he was partial to Hugenot's society. The world asked, wonderingly, what capacities had the lat- ter? Was he not obtuse, sounding, shallow? Mr. Plade alone, of all the Americans in Paris, asserted from the first that Hugenot was far-sighted, close, capable. Indeed, he was so earnest in this enuncia- tion, that few thought him disinterested. It was Master Simp who heard a bold step on the stairs that night, and a resolute knock upon his own door. "Arrest for debt!" cried Mr. Simp, falling tearfully upon his bed; "I have expected the summons all day." "The next man may come upon that errand," an- swered the ringing voice of Andy Plade. "Freckle sleeps in Clichy to-night; Risque cannot be found; the rest are as badly off; I have news for you. " "I am the man to be mocked," pleaded Simp; "but you must laugh--at your own joke; I am too wretched to help you." "'The Yankees have opened the Mississippi River; Louisiana is subjugated, and communication re-estab- lished with your neigohborhood; you can go home." THE COLONY DISBANDED. 527 "What fraction of the way will this carry me?" said the other, holding up a five-franc piece. "My home is farther than the stars from me." "Itis a little sum," urged Mr. Plade; "one hun- dred dollars should pay the whole passage." Mr. Simp, in response, mimicked a man shovelling gold pieces, but was too weak to prolong the pleasant- ry, and sat down on his empty trunk and wept, as Plade thought, like a calf. "Your case seems indeed hopeless," said the elder. "Suppose I should borrow five hundred dollars on your credit, would you give me two hundred for my trouble?" Mr. Simp said bitterly, that he would give four hundred and ninety-five dollars for five; but Plade pressed for a direct answer to his original proffer, and Simp cried "Yes," with an oath. "Then listen to me! there is no reason to doubt that your neighbors have made full crops for two years,- cotton, sugar, tobacco. All this remtains at home un- sold and unshipped- yours with the rest. Take the oath of allegiance to the Yankee Government before its Charge des afaires in Paris. That will save your crops from confiscation, and be your passport to return. Then write to your former banker here, promising to consign your cotton to him, if he will advance live hun- dred dollars to take you to Louisiana. He'knows you received of old ten thousand dollars per annum. He will risk so small a' sum for a thing so plausible and profitable." "I don't know what you have been saying," muttered Simp. "I cannot comprehend a scheme so intricate;,. page: 528-529[View Page 528-529] 528 THE COLONY DISBANDED. you bewilder me What is a consignment? How am I, bigad! to make that clear in a letter? Perhaps my speech in the case of Rutledge vs. Pinckney might come in well at this juncture." "Write!" cried Plade, contemptuously; " write at my dictation." That night the letter was mailed; Mr. Simp was summoned to his banker's the following noon, and at dusk he met Andy Plade in the Place Vendome, and paid over a thousand francs with a sigh. On the third night succeeding, Messrs. Plade and Hugenot were smoking their cigars at Nice, and Mr. Simp, without the least idea of what he mearnt to do, was drinking cocktails on the Atlantic Ocean. "Francine," said Pisgah, with a woful glance at the dregs of absinthe in the tumbler, -" give me a half franc, my dear; I am poorly to-day." i "Monsieur Pisgah,"' answered Madame Francine, "give- me nine hundred and sixty-five francs, seventy- five centimes, - that is your bill with me, -.and I am poorly also." "My love," said 'Pisgah, rubbing his grizzled beard against the madame's fat cheek, "you are not hard- hearted. You will pity the poor old exile. I love you very much, Francine." '"Stand off!" cried the mad a"me; vous n'embate! You say you love me; then marry me!" "t Nonsense, my angel! "I say marry me!" repeated the madame, stamping her foot. "You are rich in America. You have slaves and land and houses and fine relatives. You will get all these when the war closes; but if you die of starva- tion in Paris, they amount to nothing. Marry me I I - will keep you alive here; you will give me half of your possessions there! I shall be a grand lady, ride in my carriage, and have a nasty black woman to wash my fine clothes." "That is impossible, Francine," answered Pisgah, not so utterly degraded but he felt the stigma of such a proposition from his blanciisseuse - and as he leaned his faded hairs upon his unnerved and quivering hands, the old pride fluttered in his heart a moment and painted rage upon his neck and temples. "You are insulted, my Lord Count!" cried Madame Francine, "an alliance with a poor washerwoman would shame your great kin. Pay me my money, you beggar! or I shall put the fine gentleman in prison for debt." "That would be a kindness to me, madame," said Pisgah, very humbly and piteously. "You are right," she made answer with a mocking laugh; "I will not save your life: you shall starve, eir! you shall starve!" In truth, this consummation seemed very close, for as Pisgah entered his creamery soon afterward, the pro- prietor met him it the threshold. "Monsieur Pisgah," he said,-" you can have nothing to eat here, until you pay a part of your bill with me; I am a poor man, sir, and have children." Pisgah kept up the street with heavy forebodings, and turned into the place of a clothes-merchant, to whom his face had long been familiar. When he emerged, his handsome habits, the gift of Madame 23 page: 530-531[View Page 530-531] 530 THE COLONY DISBANDED* Francine, hung in the clothes-dealer's window, and Mr. Pisgah, wearing a common blouse, a cap and coarse hide shoes, repaired to the nearest wine-shop, and drank a dead man's portion of absinthe at the zinc counter. Then he returned to his own hotel, but as he reached to the rack for his key, the landlady laid her hand upon it and shook her head. "You are properly dressed, Monsieur Pisgah," she said; "those who have no money should work; you cannot sleep in Twenty-six to-night, sir; I have shut up the chamber,- and seized the little rubbish which you left." e Pisgah was homeless,-a vagabond, an outcast. He walked unsteadily along the street in the pleasant evening, and the film of tears that shut the world from his eyes was peopled with far-off and familiar scenes. He saw his father's wide acres, with the sunset gild- ing the fleeces of his sheep, and crowninfg with fire the stacks of grain and the vanes upon his granges. Then the twilight fell, and the slaves went homeward singing, while the logs on the brass andirons lit up the windows of the mansion, and every negro cabin was luminous, so that in the night the homestead looked like a village. Then the moon rose above the woods, making the lawn frosty, and shining upon the long porch, where his mother came out to welcome him, attended by the two house-dogs, which barked so loudly in their glee, that all the hen-coops were alarmed, and the peacocks in the trees held their tails to Athe stars and trilled. ? Come in, my son," said the mother, looking proudly upon the tall, straight shape, and glossy locks, "the THE COLONY DISBANDED. 531j supper is smoking upon the table; here is your familiar julep, without which you have no appetite; the Maryland biscuit are unusually good this evening, and there is the yellow pone in the corner, with Sukey, your old nurse, behind it. Do you like much cream in your coffee, as you used to? Bless me! the par- tridge is plump as a duck; but here is your napkin, embroidered with your name; let us ask a blessing before we eat." While all this is going on, the cat, which has been purring by the fire, takes a wicked notion to frighten- the canary bird, but the high old clock in the corner, imported from England before the celebrated Revolu- tionary war, impresses the cat as a very formidable object with its stately stride-stride-stride - so that the cat regarding it a moment, forgets the canary bird, and mews for a small portion of cream in a saucer. "Halloo! Halloo!" says the parrot, awakened by a leap of the fire; for, the back-log has broken in half, and Pisgah sees, by the increased light, the very hair- powder gleam on the portrait of Gen. Washington. But now the cloth is removed, and the old-fashioned table folds up its leaves; they sip some remarkable sherry, which grandfather regards with a wheezy sort of laugh, and after they have played one game of draughts, Mr. Pisgah looks at his gold chronometer, and asks if he has still the great room above the porch and plenty of bedclothes. This is what Mr. Pisgah sees upon the film of hisJ tears,-- wealth, happiness, manliness! When he dashes the tears themselves to the pavement with .an oath, what rises upon his eye and-his heart? Paris-- page: 532-533[View Page 532-533] -. t532 THE COLONY DISBANDED.. grand, luxurious, pitiless, and he; at twilight, flung upon the world, with neither kindred nor country - a thing unwilling to live, unfit to die! He strolled along the quay to the Morgue; the beautiful waters of St. Michel fell sibilantly cold from the fountain, and Apollyon above, at the feet of the avenging angel, seemed a sermon and an alleg;ory of his own prostration. How all the folks upon the bridge were stony faced! It had never before occurred to him that men were cold-blooded creatures. He wondered if the Seine, dashing against the quays and piers beneath, were not their proper element? Ay! for here were three drowned people on the icy slabs of the Morgue, with half a hundred gazing wistfully at them, and their fixed eyes glaring fishily at the skly- light, as if it were the surface of the lriver and they were at rest below. So seemed all- the landscape as he kept down the quay,-the lines of high houses were ridges only in the sea, and Notre Dame, lifting its towers and sculp- tured facade before, was merely a high-decked ship, with sailors crowding astern. The holy apostles above the portal were more like human men than ever, with their silicious eyes and pulseless bosoms; while the hideous garcgoyles at the base of each crocheted pinnacle, seemed swimthinfg ini the dusky evening. It may have been that this -aqueous phenomenon was natural to one "half-seas over;" but not till he stood on the place of the Hotel de la Ville, did Pisgah halve any consciousness whatever that he walked upon the solid world. THE COLONY DISBANDED. 533 At this moment he was reminded, also, that he held a letter in his hand, his landlady's gift at parting; it was dated-"Clichy dungeon," and signed by Mr. Freckle. "DeaD Pisgah," read the text, "I am here at claim of Restaurateur; shall die to-morrow at or before twelve o'clock, if Andy Plade don't fork over my subscription of two hundred francs. Andy Plade damned knave- no mistake! No living soul been to see me, except letter from Hon. Mr. Slidell. He has got sixteen thousand dollars in specie for Simp. Where's Simp, dogorn him I Hon. S. sent to Simp's house; under- stood he'd sailed for America. Requested Hon. S. to give me small part of money as Simp's next friend. Hon. S. declined. Population of prison very great. Damned scrub stock! Don't object to imprisonment as much as the fleas. Fleas bent on aiding my escape. If they crawl with me to-morrow nilght as far'again as last night I'll be clear--no mistake! Live on soup, chiefly. Abhor soup. Had forty francs here first day, but debtor with one boot and spectacles won it at picquet. Restaurateur says bound to keep me here a thousand years if I don't sock- shall die - no mis- take! Come see me, toute Suite. Fetch pocket-comb, soap, and English Bible. "Yours, in deep waters, FRECKLE."' "The whole world is in deep waters," said Pisgah, dismally. "So much the better for them; here goes for something stronger!" page: 534-535[View Page 534-535] 534 THE COLONY DISBANDED. He repaired to the nearest drinking-saloon, and demanded a glass brimful of absinthe, at which all the garcons and patrons held up their hands while he drank it to the dregs. "Sacristie!" cried a man with mouth wide-open, "that gentleman can drink clear laudanum." "I wish," thought Pisgah, with a pale face, "that it had been laudanum; I should have been dead by this time and all over. Why don't I get the rdeirizcm tremens? I should like to be crazy. Oh, ho, ho, ho!" he continued, laughing wildly, "to be in a hospital, nurses, soft bed, good food, pity - Oh! ho! that would be a fate fit for an Emperor." Here his eye caught something across the way, which riveted it, and he took half a step forward, ex- ultingly. A great caserne, or barrack, adjoined the Hotel de Ville, and twice every day, after breakfast and dinner, the soldiers within distributed the surplus of their rations to mendicants without. The latter were already assembling, laborers in neat, common cloth- ing, with idlers and profligates not more forbidding, while a soldier on guard directed them where to rest and in what order or number to enter the building. Pisgah halted a moment with his heart in his throat. But he was very hungry, and his silver was half gone already; if he purchased a dinner, he might not be left with sufficient to obtain a bed for the night. "Great God!" he said aloud, lifting his clenched hands and swollen eyes to the stars, "am I then among the very dogs, that I should bee the crumbs of a com- mon soldier? tie took his place in the line, and when, at length, / THE COLONY DISBANDED, 535 his turn was announced, followed the rabble shame- facedly. The chasseurs in the mess-room were making merry after dinner with pipes and cards, and one of these, giving Pisgah a piece of bread and a tin basin of strong soup, slapped him smartly upon the shoulder, and cried :- i "My fine fellow! you have the stuff in you for a soldier." "I am just getting a soldier's stuff into me," re- sponded Pisgah, antithetically. "Why do you go abroad, hungry, ill-dressed, and houseless, when you can wear the livery of France?" Pisgah thought the soldier a very presuming person. "Iam a foreigner," he said,-'" a-- a French Canadian (we speak patois there). My troubles are temporary merely. A day or two may make me Rich." "Yet for, that day or two," continued the chasseur, "you will have the humiliation of begging your bread. What signifies seven years of honorable service, to three days of mendicancy and distress? We are well cared for by the nation; we are respected over the world. It is a mean thing to be a soldier in other lands; here we are the gentlemen of France." Pisgah had never looked upon it in that light, and said so. "Your poverty may have unmanned you," repeated the other; "to recover your own esteem do a manly act. We have all feared death as citizens; but take cold steel in your hand, and you can look into your grave without a qualm. I say to you," spoke the chas- seur, clearly and eloquently, "be one of us. Decide now, before a doubt mars your better resolve! You \ :t page: 536-537[View Page 536-537] 536 THE COLONY DISBANDED. are a young man, though the soulless career of a citi- zen has anticipated the whitening of your hairs. Plant your foot; Athrow back your shoulders; say tyes!"' I do!" cried Pisgah, with something of the other's enthusiasm; "I was born a gentleman, I will die a gentleman, or a soldier." They put Mr. Pisgah among the conscripts recently levied, and he went about town with a fictitious number in his hat, joining in their bacchanal choruses. The next day he appeared in white duck jacket and panta- loons, looking like an overgrown baker's boy, with a chapeau like a flat, burnt loaf. He was then put through the manual, which seemed to indicate all possible mo- tions save that of liquoring up, and when he was so fa- tigued that he had not the energy even to fall down, he was clasped in the arms of Madame Francine, who had traced him to the barracks, but was too late to avert his destiny. "Oh I mon amantl" she cried, falling upon his neck. "Why did you go and do it? You knew that I did not mean to see you starve." "You have consigned me to a soldier's grave, woman!" answered Pisgah, in the deepest tragedy tone. "Do not say so, my bonbon/ " pleaded the good lady, covering him with kisses. "I would have worn my hands to the bone to save you from this dreadful life. Suppose you should be sent to Algiers or Mexico; or some other heathen country, and die there." It was Pisgah's turn to be touched. "My blood is upon your head, Francine! Have you THE COLONY DISBANDED. 537 ' Yes, yes! a gentleman, a noir, a naigre, for whom - I have washed, paid me fifty francs this evening. It is all here; take it, my love!" "I do not know, creature! that your conduct permits me to do so," said Pisgah, drawing back. "You will drive me mad if you refuse," shrieked the blanchisseuse. "Oh! oh! how wicked and wretched amI!" "Enough, madame! step over the way for my habit- ual glass of absinthe. Be particular about the change. We military men must be careful of our incomes. Stay! you may embrace me if you like." The poor woman came every day to the barrackb, bringing some trifle of food or clothing. She washed his regimentals, burnished his buckles and boots, paid his losses at cards, and bougrht him books and tobacco. She could never persuade herself that Pisgah was not her victim, and he found it useful to humor the notion. Down in the swift Seine, at her booth in the great- lavatory, where the ice rushed by and the rain beat in, she thought of Pisgah as she toiled; and though her back ached and her hands were flayed, she never won- dered if her lot were not the most pitiable, and his in part deserved. How often should we hard, 'selfish men, thank God for the weaknesses of women! page: 538-539[View Page 538-539] 538 THE MURDER ON THE ALPS. VIII. THE MURDER ON THE ALPS, AND so, with Mr. Pisgah on the road to glory, Mr. Simp on the smooth sea, Mr. Freckle in the debtor's jail, Mr. Risque behind his four-in-hand, and Mr. Lees in the charity grave, let us sit with the two remaining colonists in the cabriolet at Bellinzona; for it is the month of April, and they are to cross the great St. Gothard en route to Paris. Here is the scene : a gloomy stone building for the diligence company; two great yellow diligences, empty and unharnessed in the area before; one other diligence, packed full, with the horses' heads turned northward, and the blue-nosed Swiss clerk calling out the names of passengers; a half-dozen cab- riolets looking at each other irresolutely and facing all possible ways; two score of unwashed loungers in red neck-kerchiefs and velvet jackets, smoking rank, rakish, swarthy cigars; several streets of equal crook- edness and filthiness abutting against a grimy church, whence beggars, old women and priests emerge contin- . ually, and far above all, as if suspended in the air, a grim, battlemented castle, a defence, as it seems, against the snowy mountains which march upon Bellinzona from every side to crush its orchards and vineyards, and drown it in the marshes of Lago Maggiore. THE MURDER ON THE ALPS. 539 "1Dilgenzo completo /" cries the clerk, moving toward the waiting cabriolet- "Signore Hugenoto." "Here!" replies a small, consequential-looking per- s on, reconnoi terin the interior of the vehicle. "Le Signore Plaelo!' " "Ci," responds a dark, erect gentleman, striding for- ward and saying, in clear Italian, "Are there no other passengers?"1 "None," answered the clerk; " you will have a good time together; please remember the guard." - The guard, however, was in advance, - a tall person, wrapped to the eyes in fur, wearing a silver bugle in front of his cap, and covered with buff breeches. He flourished his whip like a fencing-master, moved in a cloud of cigar smoke, and, as he placed his bare hand upon the manes of his horses, they reined back, as if it burned or frosted them. "My ancestry," says the small gentleman, " encour- aged no imposition. Shall we give the fellow a franc?" The other had already given double the sum, and it was odd, now that one looked at him, how pale and hard had grown his features. "God bless me, Andy!" cries the little person, stopping short; "you have not had your breakfast to- day; apply my smelling-bottle to your nose; you are sick, man!" "Thank you," says the, other, "I prefer the brandy; I am only glad that we are quite alone." The paleness faded out of his cheeks as he drank deeply of the spirits, but the jaws were set hard, and the . : page: 540-541[View Page 540-541] 540 THE MURDERB ON THE ALPS. eyes looked stony and pitiless. The man was ailing beyond alla doubt. The whip cracked in front; the great diligence started with a groan and a crackling of joints ; the little postilion set the cabriolet going with a chirp and a whistle; the priests and idlers looked up excitedly; the women rushed to the windows to flutter their hand- kerchiefs, and all the beggars gave sturdy chase, drop- ping benedictions and damnations as they went. The small person placed his boots upon the empty cushion before and regarded them with some benevo- lence; then he touched his mustache with a comb, which he took from the head of his cane. "It is surprising,- Andy," he said, "how the growth of one's feet bears no proportion to that of his head. Observe those pedals. One of my ancestors must have found a wife in China. They have gained no increase after all these pilgrimages - and I flatter myself that they are in some sort graceful - ay? Now remark my head. What does Hamlet, or somebody, say about the front of Jove? This trip to Italy has actually enlarged the diameter of my head thirteen barleycorns! Thir- teen by measurement!" The tall gentleman said not a word, but compressed his tall shoulders into the corner of the coach, 'and muffled his face with his coat-collar and breathed like one sleeping uneasily. "It has been a cheap trip!" exclaimed the diminu- tive person, changing the theme; "you have been an invaluable courier, Andy. The most ardent patriot cannot call us extravagant." THE MURDER ON THE ALPS. 541 other in a suppressed tone. "Count it. I will then tell you to a sou what will carry us to Paris." The little person drew a wallet from his side pocket and enumerated carefully certain circular notes. "Eleven times twenty is two hundred and twenty; twenty-five times two hundred and twenty, five thou- sand five hundred, plus nine gold Louis, -total, five thousand seven hundred and twenty-five francs." One eye only of the large gentleman was visible through the folds of his collar. It rested like a charmed thing upon the roll of gold and paper. It was only an eye, but it seemed to be a whole face, an entire man. It was full of thoughts, of hopes, of acts! Had the little person marked it, thus sinister, and glittering and intense, he would have shrunk as from a burning glass. He folded up the wallet, however, and slipped it into his inside pocket, while the other pushed forward his hat, so that it concealed even the eye, and sat rigid and still in his corner. "You have not named the fare to Paris." The tall man only breathed short and hard. "Don't you recollect?" "Njo { " "I have a 'Galignani' here; perhaps it is advertised. But hallo, Andy!" The exclamation was loud and abrupt, but the silent person did not move. "The Confederate Privateer Planter will sail from Dieppe on Tuesday-- (that is, to-morrow evening) - size will cruise in the Indian Ocean, if report be true."' The tall man started suddenly and uncovered his face with a quick gesture. It was flushed and earnest now, page: 542-543[View Page 542-543] 542 THE MURDER ON THE ALPS. and he clutched the journal almost nervously, though his voice was yet calm and suppressed. "To-morrow night, did you say? A cruise on the broad sea, glory without peril, gold without work; I would to God that I were on the 'Planter's' deck, Hugenot!" "Why not do something for ou-ah cause, Andy?" "I am to return to Paris for what? To be dunned by creditors, to be marked for a parasite at the hotels, to be despised by men whom I serve, and pitied by meni whom I hate. This pirate career suits me. What is society to me, whom it has ostracised? I was a gen- tleman once,--quick at books, pleasing in company, shrewd in business. They say that I have power still, but lack integrity. Be it so! Better a freebooter at sea than upon the land. I have half made up my mind to evil. Hugenot, listen to me! I believe that were I to do one bad, dark deed, it would restore me courage, resolution, energy." The little gentleman examined the other with some alarm; but just now the teams commenced the ascent of a steep hill, and, as he beheld the guard a little way in advance, he forgot the other's earnestness and raised his lunette.. - 'Andy," he said, "by my great ancestry! I have ,seen that man before. Look! the height, the style, the carriage, are familiar. Who is he?" His co-voyageur was without curiosity; the former pallidness and silentness resumed their dominion over him, and, the lesser gentleman settled moodily back to his newspaper. No word was interchanged for several hours. They THE MURDER ON THE ALPS. 543 passed through shaggy glens, under toppled towers V and battlements, by squalid villages, and within the sound of dashing streams. If they descended ever, it was to gain breath for a longer ascent; for now the mountain snows were- above them on either side, and the Alps rose sublimely impassable in front. The hawks careened beneath them; the chamois above dared not look down for dizziness, and Hugenot said, at Ariola, that they were taking lunch in a balloon. The manner of Mr. Plade now altered marvellously. It might have been his breakfast that gave him spirit md speech; he sang a merry, bad song, which the rocks echoed back, and all the goitred women at the roadside stopped with their pack-burdens to listen. He told a thousand anecdotes. He, knew all the story Df the pass; how the Swiss, filing though it, had scat- ;ered the Milanese; how Suwarrow and Massena had nade its sterility fertile with blood. Hugenot's admiration amounted to envy. He had lever known his associate so brilliant, so- pleasing; the exaltation was too great, indeed, to arise from any ordi- lary cause; but Hugenot was not shrewd enough to nquire into the affair. He wearied at length of the alk and of the scene, and when at last they reached he region of perpetual ice, he closed the cabriolet vindows; and watched the filtering flakes, and heard he snow crush under the wheels, and dropped into a leep sleep which the other seemed to share. X The clouds around them made the mountains dusky, nd the interior of the carriage was quite gloomy. At :ngth the large genltleman turned his head, so that his ar could catch every breath, and he regarded the dim , "f!, page: 544-545[View Page 544-545] 544 ON THE MURDER ON THE ALPS. outlines of the lesser with motionless interest. Then he took a straw from the litter. at his feet, and, bending- forward, touched his comrade's throat. The other snored measuredly for a while, but the titillation startled him at length, and he beat the air in his slumber. When the irritation ceased he breathed tran- quilly again, and then the first-named placed his hand softly into tfie sleeper's pocket. He drew forth the wallet with steady fingers, and as coolly emptied it of its contents. These he concealed in the leg of his boot, but replaced the book where he had found it. For a little space he remained at rest, leaning against 'the back of the carriage, with his head bent upon his breast and his hands clenched like one at bay and in doubt. The slow advance of the teams and the frequent changes of direction - sometimes so abrupt as almost to reverse the cabriolet-- advised him that they were climbing the mountain by zigzags or terraces. He knew that they were in the Val Tremnola, or Trembling Way, and he shook his comrade -almost fiercely, as if relieved by some-idea which the place suggested. "Hugenot," he said, " rouse up! The grandeur of the Alps is round about us; you must not miss this scene. Come with me!- Quit the vehicle! I know the place, and will exhibit it." The other, accustomed to obey, leaped to the ground immediately, and followed through the snow; ankle deep, till they passed the diligence, which kept in ad- vance. The guard could not be seen, - he might have resorted to the interior; and the two pedestrians at once left the roadway, climbing its elbows by a path THE MURDER ON THE ALPS. 545 more or less distinctly marked, so that after a half hour they were perhaps a mile ahead. The agility of Mr. Plade during this episode was the marvel of his companion. He scaled the rocks like a goatherd, and l his foot-tracks in the snow were like the route of a giant. The ice could not betray the sureness of his stride; the rare, thin atmosphere was no match for his broad, deep chest. He shouted as he went, and tossed great boulders down the mountain, and urged on his a flagging comrade by cheer, and taunt and invective. No madman set loose from captivity could be guilty of so extravagant, exaggerated elation. At last they stood upon a little bridge spanning a chasm like a cobwet. A low parapet divided it from the awful gulf. On the other side the mountain lifted its jagged face, clammy with icicles; and far over all towered the sterile peaks, above the reach of clouds or lightnings, forever in thpe sunshine-forever deso- late. "Stand fast!" said the leader, suddenly cold and calm. "Uncover, that the snow-flakes may give us the baptism of nature! There is no human God at this vast height; they worship Him in the flat world below. Give me your. hand and look down! You are not dizzy? One should be free from the baseness of fear, standing here upon St. Gothard." "If I had no qualm before," said Hugenotj "your words would make me shudder." "You have heard of the 'valley of the shadow'? Was your ideal like this? I told you in Florence of the great poet DDante. You have here at a glance more beauty and dread conjoined than even his mad fancy - 4 page: 546-547[View Page 546-547] 546 THE MURDER ON THE ALPS. could conjure up. That is the Tessing, braining itself in cataracts. Yonder, where the clouds make a goldell lake, laving forests of firs, lies Italy as the Goths first beheld it, with their spears quivering. See how the eagles beat the mist beneath!-that was a symbol that the Roman standards should be rent." The other, half in- charm, half in awe, listened like one spellboundi, with his fingers tinglingl and his eye- balls throbbing. "This silence," said the elder, "is more freezing to me than the bitterness of the cold. The very snow- flakes are dumb; nothing makes discord but the avalanche; it is always twilight; men lie down in the snows to die, but they are numb and cannot cry." "Be still," replied the other, "your talk is strangely out of place. I feel as if my ancestors in their shrouds were beside me." "You are not wrong," cried the greater, raising his voice till it became shrill and terrible; " your last moments are passing; that yawning ravine is your grave. I told you an hour ago how one bad, dark deed would redeem me. It is done! I have robbed you, and your death is essential to my safety." Hugenot sank upon the snow of the parapet, speech- less and almost lifeless. He clasped his hands, but could not raise his head; theJ whole scene faded from his eye. If he had been weak before, he was impotent now. The strong man held him aloft by the shoulders with an iron grasp, and his cold eye gave evidence to the horrible validity of his words. "I do not lie or play, Hugenot," he said, in the same THE MURDER ON THE ALPS. 547 clear voice; "I have premeditated this deed for many weeks. You are doomed! Only a miracle can help you. The dangers of the pass will be my exculpation; it will be surmised that you fell into the ravine. -There will be no marks of violence upon you but those of the sharp stones. We have been close comrades. Only Omniscience can have seen premeditation. I have brought you into this wilderness to slay you!" The victim had recovered sufficiently to catch a part of this confession. His lips framed only one reply, - the dying man's last straw: I q "After death!" he said; "have you thought of that?" "Ay," answered the other, "long and thoroughly. Phantoms, remorses and hells, they have all had their argument. I take the chances." It was only a moment's struggle that ensued. The wretch clung to the parapet, and called on God and mercy. He was lifted on high in the strong arms, and whirled across the barrier. The other looked grimly at the falling burden. He wondered if a dog or a goat would have been so long falling. The distance was profound, indeed; but to the murderer's sanguine thought the body hung suspended in the air. It would not sink. The clouds seemed to bear it up for tes- timony; the cold cliffs held aloft their heads for jus- tice; the snow-flakes fell like the ballots of jurymen, voting for revenge, all nature seemed roused to ani- mation by this one act. An icicle dropped with a keen ring like a knife, and the-stream below pealed a shrill alarum. He had done the bad, dark deed. Was he more page: 548-549[View Page 548-549] 548 THE MURDER ON THE ALPS. resolute or courageous now that he had taken blood upon his hands and shadow upon his soul? The body disappeared at length, carried downward by the torrent; but a wild bird darted after it, as if to reveal the secret of its concealment, and then a noise like a human footfall crackled in the snow. "I like a manl who takes the chances," said a cold, hard voice; "but chance, Andy Plade, decides against you to-day." THE ONE GUUUD DEEaD uac A HlIVAT':JiKUSAIN. oil IX. THE ONE GOOD DEED OF A PRIVATEERSMAN. THE murderer turned from his reverie with hands extended and trembling; the snow was not more bleached than his bloodless face, and his feet grew slippery and infirm. An alcove, which he had not marked, was hewn in the brow of the precipice. It had been intended to shelter pilgrims from the wind. and the snow -and there, wrapped in his buff gar- mentsj whose hue, assimilating to that of the rock, absorbed him from detection, stood a witness to the deed, - the guard to the diligence, - none other than Auburn Risque. For an instant only, the accused shrank back. Then his body grew short and compact; he was gathering himself up for a life struggle. "Hold off!" said Risque, in his old, hard, measured way; "we guards go armed; if you move, I shall scatter your brains in the snow; if I miss you, a note of this whistle will summon my postilions." The cold face was never more emotionless; he held a revolver in his hand, and kept the other in his blank, spotted eye, as if locating the vital parts with the end to bring him down at a shot. "You do not play well," he said, at length, when the page: 550-551[View Page 550-551] '550 THE ONE GOOD DEED OF A PRIVATEERSMAN. other, ghastly white, sat speechless upon the parapet; "if you were the student of chance, that I have been, you would know that at murder the odds are always against you!" "You will not betray me," pleaded Plade; ,'so in- veterate a gamester can have no conventional ideas of life or crime. I am ready to pay for your discretion with half my winnings." -'I am a gambler, said Risque, curtly; "not an assassin! I always give my opponents fair show. But I will not touch blood-money-." "What fair show do you give me? "Two hours' start. I I am responsible for my passen- gers. AGo on, unharmed, if you will. But at Hospice I shall proclaim you. Every moment that you falter spins the rope for your gallows!" Plade did not'dally, but took to flight at once. He climbed by the angles of the terraces, and saw the diligence far below tugging up the circuitous road. He ran at full speed; no human being was abroad be- -sides, but yet there were other footfalls in the snow, other sounds, as of a' man breathing hard and pursued upon the lonely mountain. The fugitive turned-- once, twice, thrice; he laughed aloud, and shook his clenched hand at the sky, Still the flat, dead tramp followed close behind, and the pace seemed not un- familiar. It could not be! His blood ceased to circu- late, and stood freezing at the thought, - was it the march, the tread, of Hugenot? He dropped a loud curse, like a howl, and kept upon his way. ' The footfalls were as swift; he saw their im- pressions at his heels, -prints of a small, lithe, human THE ONE GOOD DEED OF A PRIVATEERSMAN. 551 1 foot, made by no living man. He shut his eyes and - his ears, but the consciousness remained, the inexplica- ble phenomenon of some invisible but familiar thing 7 which would not leave him; which made its register as it passed; which no speed could outstrip, no argument exorcise. - Was it a sick fancy, a probed heart, or did the phan- tom of the dead man indeed give chase? i Ah! there is but one class of folks whose faith in spirits nothing can shake,--the guilty, the bloody- handed. He came to a perturbed rest at the huge, half-hospi- table Hospice, to the enthusiasm of the postilions. "Will the gentleman have a saddle-horse? "A chariot?" "A cabriolet?" "' Ten francs to Andermatt!" "Thirty francs to Fluelen!" - "One hundred fralcs," cried Plade, "for the fleet- est pony to Andermatt. Ten francs to the postilion who can saddle him in two minutes. My mother is dying in Lyons." He climbed one of the dark flights of stairs, and an old, uncleanly monk gave him a glass of Kerschwasser. He descended to the stables, and cursed the Swiss lack- eys into speed. He gave such liberal largess that there was an involuntary cheer, and, as he galloped away, the great diligence appeared in sight to rouse his haste to frenzy. The' telegraph kept above him, -a single line; he knew the tardiness of foot, when pursued by the light- ning. In one place, the conductor, wrenched from the :: page: 552-553[View Page 552-553] insulators, dropped almost to the ground. There was a strap upon his saddle; he reined his niag to the side of the road, and, making a kniot about the wire, dashed off at a bound; the iron snapped behind, his triumphant laugh pealed yet on the twilight, when the cries of his pursuers rang over the fields of snow. They were aroused; he was fleetly mounted, but they came behind in sledges,. The night closed over the road as he caught the wizard bells. The moonlight turned the peaks to fire. The dark firs shook down their burdens of snow. There were cries of wild beasts from the ravines below. The post-houses were red with firelight. The steed floundered through the snow-drifts driven by blow and halloo. It was a fearful ride upon the high Alps; the sublimity of nature bowed down to the mystery of crime! Bright noon, the third Clay succeeding, saw. the fugitive emerge from the railway station at Dieppe. He had escaped the Swiss frontier with his life, but had failed to make sure that escape by reaching the harbor at the appointed time. Broken in spirit, grown old already, he faltered toward the town, and, stopping on the fosse-bridge, looked sorrowfully across the shipping in the dock. Something caught his regard amid the cloud of tri-color; he looked again, shading his eye with a tremulous palm. There could not be a doubt- it was the Confederate standard --the stars and bars. The "Planter" had been delayed; she waited with steam up and an expectant crew; her slender masts * * IUP THE ONE GOOD DEED OF A PRIVATEERSMAN. 553 leaned against the sky; her anchor was lifted; a knot of idlers watched her from the quay. In a moment Mr. Plade was on board. He asked for the commander, and a, short, gristly, sunburnt personage being indicated, he introduced himself with that plausible speech which had wooed so many to their fall. "I am a Charlestonian," said Plade; "a Yankee in- sulted me at the Grand Hotel; we met in the Bois de Bologne, and I ran him through the body. His friends in Paris conspire against my life. I ask, to save it now, only to die on your deck, that it may be worth some- thing to my country." They went below, and the privateer put the applicant through a rigid examination. "This vessel must get to sea to-night," he said. "I will not hazard trouble with the French authorities by keeping you here. Spend the afternoon ashore; we sail at eleven o'clock precisely; if at that time you come aboard, I will take you." Plade protested his gratitude, but the skipper motioned him to peace. "You seem to be a gentleman," he added; " if I find you so, you shall be my purser. But, hark!" he looked keenly at the other, and laid his hand upon his throat, --I am under the. espionage of the Yankee Ambassador. There are spies who seek to join my crew for treasonable ends; if I find you one of these, you shall hang to my yard-arm!" The felon walked into the dim old city, and seated himself in a wine-shop. Some market folks were chanting in patois, and their light-heartedness enraged 24 page: 554-555[View Page 554-555] 554 THE ONE GOOD DEED OF A PRIVATEERSMAN. him. He turned up a crooked street, and stopped be. fore an ancient church, grotesque with broken but- tresses, pinnacles and gargoyles. The portal was wile open, and, as he entered, some scores of school children burst suddenly into song. It seemed to him an accusa- tion, shouted by a choir of angels. At the end of the city, facing the sea, rose a massive castle. He scaled its stairs, and passed through the court-yard, and, crossing the farther moat, stood upon a grassy hill--once an outwork-whence the blue channel was visible half way to England.- A knot of soldiers came out to regard him, and his fears magnified their curiosity; he ran down the para- pet, to their surprise, and re-entered the town by a roundabout way. "I will take a chamber," he said, "and shun observation." An old woman, in a starched cap, who talked in- cessantly, showed him a number of rooms in a great stone building. He chose a garret among the chimney- stacks, and lit a fire, and ordered a newspaper and a bottle of brandy. He sat down to read in loneliness. As he surmised, the murder was printed among the "Faits Divers;" it gave his name and the story of the tragedy. His chair rattled upon the tiles as he read, and the tongs, wherewith he touched the fire, clattered in his nervous fingers. The place was not more composed than himself; the flame was the noisiest in the world. It crackled and crashed and made horrible shadows on the walls. There were rats under the floor whose gnawings were like human speech, and the old house appeared to settle now and then with a groan as if unwilling to THE ONE GOOD DEED OF A PRIVATEERSMAN. 555 shelter guilt. As he looked down upon the clustering roofs of the town they seemed wonderfully like a crowd of people gazing up at his retreat. All the dor- mer windows were so many pitiless eyes, and the chimney-pots were guns and cannons to batter down his eyrie. When night fell upon the city and sea, his fancies were not less alarming. He could not rid himself of the idea that the dead man was at his side. In vain he called'upon his victim to appear, and laughed till the windows shook. It was there, there, always THERE! He did not see it- but it was there/ He felt its breath, its eye, its influence. It leaned across his shoulder; it gossiped with the shadows; it laid its hand heavily upon his pocket where lay the unholy gold. Some prints of saints and the Virgin upon the wall troubled him; their faces followed him wherever he turned; he tore them down at length, and tossed them in the fire, but they blazed with so great flame that he cried out for fear. The town-bells struck the hours; how far apart were the strokes! They tolled rather than pealed, as if for an execution, and the lamps of some passing carriages made a journey as of torches upon the ceil- sing After nine o'clock there was a heavy tread upon the stairs. It kept him company, and he was glad of its coming; but it drew so close, at length, that he stood upright, with the cold sweat upon his forehead. The steps halted at his threshold; the door swung open; a corporal and a soldier stood without, and the former saluted formally:- page: 556-557[View Page 556-557] 556 THE ONE GOOD DEED OF A PRIVATEERSMAN. "Monsieur the stranger will remain in his chamber under guard. I grieve to say that he is an object of grave suspicion. Au revoir " The'corporal retired without waiting for a reply; the soldier entered, and, leaning his musket against the wall, drew a chair before the door and sat down. The firelight fell upon his face after a moment, and re- vealed to Mr. Plade his old associate, Pisgah! The former uttered a cry of hope and surprise; the soldier waved him back with a menace. "I know you," he said; "but I am here upon duty: besides, I have no friendship with a murderer." "We are both victims of a mistake! This accusa- tion is not true. Will you take my hand?" "I am forbidden to speak upon guard," answered Pis- gah, sullenly. "Resume your chair." "At least join me in a glass." "There is blood in it," said Pisgah. ' I swear to you, no! Let me rings for your old bev- erage, absinthe." The soldier halted, irresolutely; the liquor came be- fore he could refuse. When once his lips touchcld the vessel, Mr. Plade knew that there was still a chance for life. In an hour, Mr. Pisgah was impotent from intoxica- tion; his musket was flung down the stairway, the, door was bolted upon him, and the prisoner was gone. He gained the Planter's deck, as the screw made its first revolution; they turned the channel-piles with a good-by gun; the motley crew cheered heartily as they cleared the last pier. THE ONE GOOD DEED OF A PRIVATEERSMAN. 557 The pirate was at sea on her mission of plunder- the murderer was free! The engines stopped abreast the city; the steamer lay almost motionless, for there were lights upon the beach; a shrill "Alloy," broke over the intervening waters, and the dip of oars indicated some pursuit. The crew, half drunken, rallied to the edge of the ves- sel; knives glittered amid the confusion of oaths, and the click of pistols, while Mr. Plade hastened to the skipper's side, and urged him for pity and mercy to hasten seaward. The other motioned him back, coldly, and the boat- swain piped all hands upon deck. Lafitte nor Kidd never looked down such desperate- faces as this gristly privateer, when his buccaneers were around him. "Seamen," he said, "you are afloat! Gold and glory await you; you shall glut. yourselves by the ruin of your enemy, and count your plunder by the light of his burning merchantmen." The knives flickered in the torchght, and a cheer, like the howl of the damned, went up. "On the brink of such fortune, you find yourselves imperilled; treason is with you; this pursuit, which we attend, is a part of its programme! There is, within the sound of my voice, a Spy! - a Yankee!" The weapons rang again; the desperadoes pressed forward, demanding with shrieks and imprecations that the man should be named. "He is here," answered the captain, turning full upon the astonished fugitive. "He came to me with a story of distress. I pitied him, and gave him shelter; but I telegraphed to Paris to test his veracity -and I find that page: 558-559[View Page 558-559] 558 THE ONE GOOD DEED OF A PRIVATEERSMAN. he lied. No man has been slain in a duel as he states. I believe him to be a Federal emissary, and he is in our power." A dozen rough hands struck Plade to the deck; he staggered up, with blood upon his face, and called Heaven to witness that he was no traitor. "Did you speak the truth to me to-day?" cried the accusers "I did not; had I done so, you would have refused me relief." "What are you then? Speak!" The murderer cowered, with a face so blanched that the blood ceased to flow at its gashes. "I cannot, I dare not tell!" he muttered. The skipper made a sign to an attendant. A rope from the yard-arm was flung about the felon's neck, and made fast in a twinkling. He struggled desper- ately, but the fierce buccaneers held him down; his clothing was rent, and his hairs dishevelled; he made three frantic struggles for speech; but the loud cheers mocked his words as they brandished their cutlasses in his eyes. Then began that strange lifetime of reminiscence; that trooping of sins and cruelties, in sure, unbroken continuity, through the reeling brain; that moment of years; that great day of judgment, in a thought; that last winkful of light, which flashes back upon time, and makes its frailties luminous. And, higher than all offences, rose that of the fair, young wife deserted abroad, left to the alternatives-of shame or starvation. Her wail came even now, from the bed of the crowded hospital, to follow him into the world of shadows. THE ONE GOOD DEED OF A PRIVATEERSMAN. 559 Monsieur the Commander," hailed the spokesman in the launch,- "the government of his Imperial Maj- esty does not wish to interpose any obstacle to the de- parture of the Confederate cruiser. It is known, how- ever, that a person guilty of an atrocious crime is concealed on board. In this paper, Monsieur the Cap- taine will find all the specifications. The name of the person, Plade. The crime of the person, murder, with premeditation. The giving up of said person is essen- tial to the departure of the cruiser from his Imperial Majesty's possessions." There was blank silence on the deck of the privateer; the torches in the launch threw a glare upon the water and sky. They lit up something struggling between both at the tip of the rocking yard-arm. It was the effigy of a man, bound and suspended, around which swept timidly the bats and gulls, and the sea wind beat it with a shrill, jubilant cry. "I have done justice unconsciously," said the priva- teer; "may it be remembered for me when I shalldo injustice consciously." page: 560-561[View Page 560-561] 560 THE SURVIVING COLONISTS. X. THE SURViVING COLONISTS. T-HE catastrophe of the colony and the episode having been attained, we have only to leave Mr. Pisgah in Algiers, whither court-martial consigned him, with the penalty of hard labor, and Mr. Risque on the stage route he was so eminently fitted to adorn. The un- happy Freckle continued in the prison of Clichy, and, having nothing, else to do, commenced the novel pro- cess of thinking. The prison stood high up on Clichy Hill, walled and barred and guarded, like other jails, but within it a fair margin of liberty was allowed the bankrupts, just sufficient to make their fate terrible by temptation. Some good soul had endowed it with a library; newspapers came every day; a cafe was at- tached to it, where spirituous liquors were prohibited, to the wrath of the dry throats and raging thirsts of the captives; there was a garden behind it, and a Bil- liard Saloon, but these luxuries were not gratuitous; poor Freckle could not even pay his one sou per diem -to cook his rations, so that the Prisoners' Relief Asso- ciation had to make him a present of it. He spent his time between his bare, cheerless bedroom and the pub- lic hall. There were many Americans in the place; but none of them were friendly with him when he was THE SURVIVING COLONISTS. 561 found to have no cash. Yet he heard them speak to- gether of their countrymen who had lain in the same jail years before. Yonder was the room of Horace Greeley, incarcerated for a debt which was not his own; here the blood-stains of the Pennsylvania youth who looked out of the window, heedless of warning, and was shot dead by the guard; there the ancient chair, in which Hallidore, the Creole, sat so often, possessor of a million francs, but too obstinate to pay his tailor's bill and go free. While Freckle thought of these, it was suggested to him that he was a very wicked man. The tuitions of his patriarchal father came to mind; he was seen on his knees, to the infinite amusement of the other debtors, who were, however, quite too polite to laugh in his face, and he no longier staked his ration of wine at cards, whereby he had commonly lost it, but held long conversations with an 'ardent old priest who visited the jail. The priest gave Freckle brevieres and catechisms, and told him that there was no peace of mind outside of the apostolic fold. So Freckle diligently embraced the ancient Romish faith, renounced the tenets of his plain old sire as false and heretical, and earnestly prepared himself to enter the priesthood. In this frame of mind he was found by Mr. Simp, who had unexpectedly returned to Paris, and, finding himself again prosperous, came to release Freckle from the toils of Clichy. The latter waved him away. "I wish to know none of you," he said. "I shall serve out this term, and never again speak to an American abroad." He was firm, and achieved his purpose. Enthusiasm page: 562-563[View Page 562-563] 562 THE SURVIVING COLONISTS. often answers for brains, and Freckle's religious zeal made him a changed man. He entered a Jesuits' school after his discharge, and in another fashion be- came as stern, severe and self-denying as had been his father. He sometimes saw his old comrade, Simp, driving down the Champs Elysee as he came from church in Paris, but the gallant did not recognize the young priest -in his dark gown and hose, and wide- rimmed hat. They followed their several directions, and in the end, with the lessening fortunes of the Confederacy, grew more moody, and yet more ruined by the con- sciousness that after once suffering the agony of expa- triation, they had not improved the added chance to make of themselves men, not colonists. So lived, and so lives on, the Southerner abroad,- a wild fellow in prosperity, in adversity a lost one or a dark one. It is not the pleasantest phase of our human nature to depict, but since we have essayed it, let it close with its -own surrounding shadow. If, we have given no light touch of womanhood to re- lieve its sombre career, we habve failed to be artistic in order to be true. But that which made the colonists weak has passed away. There are no longer slaves at home-may there be no exiles abroad I APPLEGATE'S STORY RESUMED --- ] CHAPTER XXXV III PRUSSIAN CAMP-FIRES. ONE morning, Applegate Shrink, at his quarters in the Passage de la Madaleine, Number Six, Paris, heard a heavy, military rap upon the door. He cried "Come in!"And Colonel Reddn stalked into the apartment. "I have heard bad news of you, Shrink!" said the Colonel: "high-living, much wine, remorse, satiety, disappointed love, and what not. I have not given you up yet. It is a year since we met. I want you to go to the Danish war with me, as an officer and a corre- spondent, and here is a commission as a volunteer aid upon the Prussian staff." "Gladly!" cried Applegate. "I am told that Cap- tain Hilt is also in Holstein, and he may possess some trinkets very dear to me. Anything, Colonel, to be rid of Paris. It is the graveyard of young Americans." In the bitter winter weather, Applegate and his party left Hamburg, in North Germany, for the town of Kiel, two hours distant by rail, crossing the Duchy of Hol- stein, which was until yesterday in the undisputed possession of the Dane. Much of the country was undulating plain, crossed by ridges of sand and heath, now and then showing broad marshes covered with snow, in the depths of which were seen at work the page: 564-565[View Page 564-565] 564 PRUSSIAN CAMP-FIRES. diggers of peat. Half a million of simple farmers peopled this disputed State, and nearly as many more inhabited the Duchy of Schleswig, its neighbor to the north. For nearly a century and a half these German- ized people had lived in unwilling subjection to the decaying but jealous dynasty of the Dane, which had attempted to suppress their traditions and institutions, and even to crush out their language. The University of Kiel, however, through its faculty and its mutinous students, made steadfast opposition to the Danish pre- tensions, and after a futile attempt of the people to separate themselves from Denmark by force in 1848,-- the great year of European revolt, -- the people of both States finally refused to take the oaths to a new King, -Christian the Ninth, and implored the German Diet to give them assistance, Applegate felt no particular interest as an American in this contest, - a discussion between a couple of obscure provinces, and a kingdom almost as obscure, on the petty question as to whether the Schlesmirgers and Hol- steiners should have a Duke or a King for their master,- but he knew that in this little tempest lay probably the germ of a general Europelan war, which might promote the better aspirations of Germany, but which gave the higher promise of setting at variance the two great German States, and thereby permitting Italy to liberate herself entirely from the hateful despotism of Austria. It was Applegate's wish, in which he was fully joined -by Colonel Reddn, that Prussia, a progressive and a Protestant kingdom, mighllt arise by this Schleswig-Hol- stein controversy to be the strongest power in Ger- many, a match for France, and the ally of Italy. He PRUSSIAN CAMP-FIRES. 565 had determined, therefore, if hostilities should break out, to attach himself to the Prussian army, and make his observations from that stand-point. It was late in the afternoon when he entered Kiel, and passing up its narrow, slovenly, slippery streets, crossing its ice-strewn canal, and observing its mean houses and shops, and huge old brick church with the broad, squatting tower, he looked out upon the cold, white fiord or bay, surrounded with cold-looking villas, and felt that across that Baltic Sound lay the Canada of Europe, with its Copenhagen and its Stockholm, and ba yond them further, upon the shores of the same icy sea, the frigid capital of the Russias. Applegate found in the Austrian quarters that Bruck was still in high favor with Benedek, and that Hilt was a general favorite in camp, and potential with Bruck. He avoided the Austrian party, therefore, and was freely given passes and facilities with the Prussians, whom he accompanied to the small battle of Missunde, and through the longer siege of Dybbol. By the favor of Colonel Reddn, he was afterwards made an honorary officer, without salary, upon the Prussian staff, and al- though the campaign was confined to the winter and spring, -wet, frigid, snowy months, --Applegate took deep interest in it, because it was the only European war. fought contemporarily with the mighty contest in the United States. One of the most pleasing of his Danish experiences was to meet Titus Oates and wife again. The indefati- gable Contractor had obtained the monopoly of furnish- ing iced soda-water, With American syrups, to the allied camps, and, as the article was new and popular, he did a page: 566-567[View Page 566-567] 566 PRUSSIAN CAMP-FIRES. thriving trade. A ship-load of Boston ice had been sent to Kiel for him, and he had mounted a large foun- tain upon a gorgeous wagon, and drew soda from half- a-dozen spickets at once. "Here's your Hohenzollern- soda, with the American improvements," cried Mr. Oates. "Cold enough to make old Fritz rise out of his grave! Here's your genooine nectar, drunk familiarly in Wallhalla, Olym- pus, and the Temple of Fame. Veterans, landwehr, and home-guwds, step--up and encourage busted enter- -prise! "Step up, Pontiffs and Emperors, Jukes and Insigns, noble monarchists, and infantry, etceteray!" cried Mrs. Oates, with ludicrous energy, and without a trace of her former arrogance. She greeted Applegate heartily, and said: - "Young man, I hev put off all my airs, and I'm a-trying to help Titus get back the money I threw away: The Smiths of Tuckwpuck hev a business streak, and as' for these yer crowned heads and courts, they're bosh. It's my opinion," said Mrs. Oates, " having tried 'em all, that they're frothy as this genooine soda. Fipenny bit is my coat of arms, and these pair of arms is my sup- porters." "I knew you were a good wife," said Applegate, heartily. "She's a woman of genius," said Mr. Oates, -" poeti- cal genius of a culinary kind. Taste this ale! It's hers, brewed right here in camp. Hold it up to the light Admire it! That remarkable Tuckapuck ale, Apple- gate, -for which, onhappily, we haven't yet secured a patent, - sells for fourteen kreutzers, or a dime a glass, \ . .* PRUSSIAN CAMP-FIRES. 567 equal at present to twenty-two cents in American cur- rency, and it cost us about half a kreutzer a glass. A hogshead of molasses and a keg of yeast will run an army for a year on that celebrated Tuckapuck ale. I tell you, a handy, working, self-supporting wife is the best contract a man ever made." "And Gretchen, your sweetheart," asked Mrs. Oates, "I teched you up on her onjustly. She was pretty as the American flag at a harvest-home, and smart as a young robin. Have you married her?" "Alas, no!" said Applegate; " she was too good and womanly for my vain, unstable will, and we are no longer betrothed." Applegate also noticed infrequently about the allied camp-fires the crouching or creeping figure of his old co- voyageur, the half-lunatic, Trample, much reduced by want and intemperance, but indomitable as ever in his purposes of revenge. He was earning a precarious living as a camp-follower, and received many a piece of coin from Mr. Oates and Applegate. The apparition of Hilt also, passing and repassing between the camps, re- ceived as familiarly by the Prussians as the Austri- ans, was noticed by our hero and his friends, and Colonel Bruck always beheld him with a troubled look. It was late in the fall of- 1864, when Denmark sur- rendered the Duchies of Schleswig and Holstein to Austria and Prussia, and these great German powers at once ordered to their homes the soldiers of the smaller States; and then began a series of diplomatic movements between the politicians of Berlin and Vienna thoroughly deceitful and European. Bismarck, page: 568-569[View Page 568-569] PRUSSIAN CAMP-FIRES., the Prussian politician, suavely proposed to Mensdcrf, the Austrian politician, that it would be better for all hands if Prussia should appropriate the new conquests, and save Austria further trouble. Mensdorf jealously replied that this would be objectionable, unless Austria might also be allowed to appropriate some helpless portions of Germany. The wily Bismarck hired a newspaper in Mensdorf's own capital of Vienna to print the Austrian reply, and at once all the little allies of Austria cried aloud, "Perhaps it is we who are to be annexed." The helpless German Diet, holding its ses- sions at the old city of Frankfort, feebly attempted to interpose between the two selfish rivals, and recover Schleswig and Holstein to their ducal independence; but in August, 1865, the two powerful sovereigns, meeting at the little town of Gastein, agreed that Prussia should occupy one of the Duchies and Austria the other. Very soon the military commanders in these adja- cent provinces fell out with each other. The Austrian general in Holstein permitted meetings to be held, and encouraged the popular agitation for independence; the Prussian general insisted that the people should be kept down and silenced. The smaller German States espoused the side of Austria. Prussia threatened to make a treaty with Italy, and meet united Germany in the field. Apple- gate, who had removed to Berlin, had watched all these movements with growing delight; and on the last day of February, 1866, he was apprized by the American Minister at the Prussian Court that a Council of War was going on at the palace between the Tiing, his chief- of-staff, Von Moltke, and the General Manteuffel, com- mander of Schleswig. Ten days afterwards the Emperor of Austria cited his ablest general, Benedek, from Italy to Vienna, and they also prepared a campaign. Applegate saw that the war could not be long delayed, and he attended, with Colonel Redan, the last reception at the Schloss, in Berlin, where he saw the grim, barbaric faces of many of the great personages of Prussia. The Colonel made him acquainted with many of these, and first with the old veteran Herwarth Von Bitten- feldt, - his thin gray locks combed forward in the vain endeavor to conceal his baldness; but in his heavy ob- long face lay all the features of the ancient Teutonic aristocracy,- decision, pitilessness, the love of terror. This old man fought Napoleon the Great, at the Battle of the Nations before Leipzig, and;in the impending war he was to lead the army of the Elbe, one of the three mighty columns that, coalescing at Sadowa, pierced the Austrian centre, and followed the bands of Benedek to the gates of Vienna. Colonel Redan next drew Applegate's attention to the heir of the Prussian throne, the Crown Prince, Frederick William, son-in-law of Queen Victoria and son of the most powerful Protestant King. He was a tall, sandy-haired, sandy-whiskered young German, with a rather cold, unsympathetic, and not very intel- lectual face, and his breast was covered with insignia and decorations. He was an only son, and had been eight years married; and he, also, at the age of thirty- five, was to lead one of the three great armies across the Austrian frontier. page: 570-571[View Page 570-571] 570 PRUSSrAN CAMP-FIRES. By the side of the Crown Prince, his senior by three years, stood his first cousin, Frederick Charles, broad- breasted, square-shouldered, with a fine, round, thinly- thatched head, a heavy black mustache, 'straight eye- brows, and a soldierly look. of alertness and caution. He was dressed in the uniform of a hussar, with a single cross of diamonds blazing at his throat, and Ap- plegate felt attached to him at once by the candor and force of his countenance. Our hero knew the history of the young Prince, and had seen his head-quarters' flag waving near Diippel, and also had read the spirited military book of "How to Beat the French." "Prince Karl," said Colonel Reddii, "is to do the great work in the war. He is to lead the army of the Centre." "I like his looks," said Applegate. "I should rather go with him than with any of the others." "I think your instinct is a true one," replied the Colonel;, " we will be introduced to him." The crowd around the foot of the throne opened at this place, and showed plainly the figure of the King, a powerful old man, on the brink of seventy years, who was a young soldier against Napoleon while the Amer- icans and English were fighting their second war. He was dressed like an infantry General, with heavy epau- lettes upon his shoulders, and the decorations of many sovereigns, his contemporaries, upon his breast. Eighteen years ago he was a fugitive before his revolu- tionary countrymen for his tyrannical opinions, but ten years later he was in turn hated by his own nobility, and now he would be the most unpopular man in Prus- PRUSSIAN CAMP-FIRES. 571 sia were it not for the military spirit fomented by his great prime minister, Bismarck. "I like the Prussian cause," exclaimed Colonel Reddn, "but my interest in that old narrow-minded King is very faint. His reign has been at variance with the spirit of the century, and he is a poor expo- nent of what the first Prince of the Protestant world should be." "He has been only five years the Sovereign," said Applegate. "Yes. But he was made Regent in place of his lunatic brother nine years ago. They have all a crazy streak in them. The history of the house of Hohen- zollern is like a leaf out of a mad-house record. Blind- ness and dominion, unwortchiness and success, tyranny and victory, mark them all. Their military virtues are their only ones. It is, considering its career, the most uninteresting family in Europe. "Where is Bismarck?" said Applegate. "He is yonder, talking to Von Moltke, the chief-of- staff, and virtual comimander-in--chief. Applegate saw a little old man, nearly of the King's age, with a thin, severe, yet modest face, and more a Dane in physiognomy than a German, listening with patience to the animated talk of a tall, heavy, and auda- cious civilian, whose eyes and throat dropped heavy creases below, who looked straight like a bull mastiff from under his thick, grizzled brows, and his ear, neck, and complexion betokened a person of gross nature and habits, while yet he showed a&sense of humor and great will. He knew them from the prints so freely circu- lated about the city: the little man was the Lieutenant page: 572-573[View Page 572-573] 572 PRUSSIAN CAMP-FIRES. General, the Cialdini of Prussia, and the master of her military strategy; the other was Bismarck, the extri- cator and reviver of her politics. " What is the difference in the characters, Colonel?" asked Applegate. "You probably know them well." "Moltke is the elder by thirteen years; and he was educated in Copenhagen amongst the Danes; Bismarck is a true Brandenburger, from the heart of Prussia, and an unscrupulous fellow, but of great boldness, as poli- ticians go. Both of them are of old families; but Bis- marck has had the wit to keep his estates, while Moltke, reduced almost to beggary in early youth, entered the Prussian service as a mere Cornet. The one is the right hand, the other the left hand of the bigoted King, and they are well agreed in policy; but Moltke is frugal and severe, a soldier alone, and the founder of the Prussian military system; while Bismarck is gross and huge in his appetites, and his political policy has the crookedness and the riotousness of an excess. Moltke has been a military student in Asia, and he is an author and an organizer. Bismarck is a crafty though blustering diplomatist, bent upon aggrandizing Prussia, and, like almost every politician in the history of mankind, he is probably unworthy of the work he is doing, and of the fame he will obtalin, if successful." -These, and many men of note in politics, literature, music, and art, were indicated to Applegate, such as Humboldt, Cornelius, and Kaulbach; but he was at present absorbed with military men, like Steinmetz and Von Bonin, the former a white-haired, spare-bodied, tall dfficer; the latter no less hale and bleached by years of active military life. By these stood Von Falken- PRUSSIAN CAMP-FIRES. 573 stein, with a face like a baboon's, and little, cruel eyes shining out, the crueller for the grin that circled round them. With all these officers Applegate became ac- quainted, and the character of his introducer made him heartily welcomed. He was made a volunteer Aide-de- camp upon the Staff of Prince Karl, and Colonel Re- ddn and Max were attached to the same fine officer. Applegate now made a closer study of the formidable Prussian arm, the needle-gun, the dreaded Zundnadel- gewehr, twelve pounds in weight, or a third heavier than the Springfield rifle, and without lock or ramrod. For thirty years the Prussian army had borne these rifles, while all the neighboring nations rammed and capped and cocked, and stretched their arms, awk- wardly enlarging the surface of danger; but Prussia had held to her system silently, until on the battle-field of Sadowa the terror of her new weapon was to convert civilization into a frightened armory, and make the gunsmiths of the world apprentices to her needle. "This it is, in essentials," said Colonel Rednl: "a cartridge with a cap at its heart, through which a needle is driven by the release of a spring. The breech of the rifle opens by turning a knob and sliding a bolt to admit the cartridge, as a man enters his dwelling by turning the knob of-his door. The gun can be taken apart almost as fast as it can be loaded, and there is a needle and screw in reserve, packed away in the gun- stock, if an accident should happen." Applegate followed this description with his eye. He saw the soldiers smite the steel knob with the palms of their hands, draw the slide from the barrel, intro- page: 574-575[View Page 574-575] 574 PRUSSIAN CAMP-FIRES. duce a cartridge, and aim and fire three times a minute without great effort. "It is not more wonderful," he said, "than a seam- stress's needle. The sewing-machine is a miracle upon the same principle. I wonder that muskets were not always loaded at the breech. It is simpler than muz- zle-loading, as phonography is shorter than writing the alphabet." "'All the greatest inventions are the simplest," an- swered Colonel Reddn; "when I was- in St. Louis a man came tome with an idea of rolling fielght in hol- low spheres through pneumatic tubes for thousands of miles. Said I, 'This is a quaint, and yet, perhaps, a practicable suggestion. How did you come by it?' He answered, 'I took it from the Almighty, whose worlds are all spheres; and I thought that what Newton had discovered, an American could put to use. " They were able to get permission for Mr. Oatesto introduce his ale and soda-water into the Prussian camps, and that enterprising gentleman, foreseeing the war, had already imported a ship-load of ice, and by means of agents had prepared to put a glass of soda wherever there could be found a musket. On the first of June, 1866, Prussia left the German Diet at Frankfort, and in one week had swept the Aus- trians from Holstein. In another- week Austria de- clared war. Prussia followed her declaration next day; in two days more Italy defied Austria, and four days afterward fought the dreadful battle of Custozza. Before that time the great armies of Prussia had been launched upon Germany. Count Bismarck was the P RUSSIAN CAMP-FIRES. 575 spirit of the storm, and while Austria called upon her -saints and counted her beads, he made his vows to the Zundnadegewehr. page: 576-577[View Page 576-577] 576 SADOWA AND ITS TRAITOR. CHAPTER XXXTX. SADOWA AND ITS TRAITOR. APPLEGATE Was not sorry to quit Berlin, which seemed to him a monumental barrack and camp, - severe, dull, flat, masculine, coldly intellectual, washed by one sluggish little river, without grandeur of outly- ing scenery or dramatic contrasts of life and character. Tremendous and wearisome allegories of paintings, statues of ferocious soldiers, hu'ge but unimposing pub- lic buildings, the citizen rights suppressed, the Princes austere and contemptuous, - these were his impressions of the great continental Capital of Protestantism. But when he looked over into Austria, Applegate saw, under more flexible forms, a State abhorrent to his moral and political, convictions, the upholder of re- ligious tyranny, the greedy exactor of tribute from her, heterogeneous poor, and the mainstay of the perversi- ties of European politics. He beheld in Prussia the champion of simplified and meek religion, and of per- manent German unity, - the sword of Gustavus Adol- phus and the Bible of Luther contending for empire under the House of Hohenzollern. It was the land of. Brother Martin through which he marched, by Wittem- berg, his burial-place, and he heard in every Saxon hamlet the hymns of Luther ill the language in which SADOWA AND ITS TRAITOR, 5" he sang them in the lonely Warthurg castle. More- over, these were Saxons, - the race which in our day is colonizing the world and moving safely in the line of Freedom by the evolution of its ancient laws of neighborhood; the race whose institutions planted in England survived the shock of the Norman conquest, whose method of republicanism had alone in modern times been durable, and whose fireside virtues had warmed at once Christianity and Independence, till, like a pair of stalwart twins, they had gone hand in hand around the earth. In a few days Saxony was peaceably overrun; the precious treasures of Dresden had followed the fugitive King to Bohemia, and the three great armies of Prus- sia were ready to break over the mountain bastion of that wild Austrian province. The army of Prince Karl was in the centre, between the"Elbe army of Bit- tenfeldt and the Oder army of the Crown Prince, all so marching that they should meet in the basin of Bohemia. There watched Benedek, seeking to pierce like a wedge of steel between the converging Prussians with his one compact "Army of the Northl," beat them in detail, and dictate peace at Berlin. The odds of numbers and position were all against Prussia, whose population was less than half that of Aistria and her German allies; but Bismarck had thrown the twenty millions of Italy into the scale, and secured the neu- trality of France by a deceitful promise to let her take a piece of Rhenish land at the end of the war. The strength of Prussia was in her treasury, her diplomancy, her audacity, and her needle-gun. In five days from the declaration of war, Prince Karl passed the Austrian 25 page: 578-579[View Page 578-579] 578 SADOWA AND ITS TRAITOR. frontier, with the proclamation, "We will maintain Prussia as she is, and by victories make her stronger and mightier; " and Applegate heard the helmeted regi- ments cheer him as they passed the toll-gate bar, where Mr. Oates, with his usual energy, had already estab- lished a mart for the sale of the "genooine " soda and the Tuckapuck ale. - The next day, Sunday, they filed through the gaps of the Iron Mountains, whose sides were clothed with green firs, and whose summits were lost in a rainy mist, and that night Prince Karl slept in the castle of Count Clam Gallas, the Austrian General who opposed him. Then followed in ranpi succession a series of sharp battles on the little River Iser, till within one week from touching Austrian soil, Prince Karl had fought his way to Gitschin, covered Clam Gallas with disgrace, and established communication with the Crown Prince, his cousin, hlo, meantime, had also fought a series of desperate battles, wherein the needle-gun had shown its superiority over the best dis- cipline of Austria. The latter power had already lost forty thousand men. On the first of July the Killng' of Prussia took supreme command, and on the third of July, soon aftec the break of day, Prince Karl moved out in line of battle and fired the first gun of the action of Sadowa, a part of the great engagement for the passage of the Elbe River and an advance into the open plain of Austria. The River Elbe, or the White River, is the Danube of North Germany, flowing northward like the Rhine and to the same seaj and it is longer than the Cumberland or the Susquehanna. It is the stream of Huss, Jerome and Luther. No river in the world SADOWA AND ITS TRAITOR. 579 has so many rich and refined cities in its valley: Prague, Dresden, Leipsic, Hamburg. It rises on the southern slopes of the ridge of Giant Mountains, flows southward for a while, and then turns abruptly to the north-west, breaking through the Iron Mountains. A main stem of railway coming from Vienna divides at the abrupt turn, and sends a branch up stream and another down stream. This intersecting point- of rail and river, Bcnedek was coerced to hold, and the passage of the Elbe was defended by several powerfully fortified towns, chief of which was Koniggratz. Here Benedek made his head-quarters, resolved to give battle on the Prussiln, side of the stream, with a brook called the Bistritz in his front, his left flank covered by the Elbe's abrupt turn, and his xright by a brook called the Tro- tinka, flowing into the same deep, narrow, and swampy current. Two ranges of long rolling hills ran between the Elbe and Bistritz, the ridge of Sadowa, and the ridge of Chlum, two villages directly upon the high- way from Gitschin to Koniggratz. Behind Chlum village, the key of the field, Benedek placed his re- serves, and on the hills of the Bistritz he planted his line of battle. The problem of the Prussians was to cross the upper Elbe with the army of the Crown Prince, pass the Trotinka, and strike Benedek's right flank, while Bittenfield, with the Elbe army, struck his left, and Prince Karl marched straight for his centre and IKoniggratz, - all three columns to make the white' church tower of Chlum their objective point. Applegate rode four miles on the morning of the battle, passing long lines of wagons, field telegralph and signal stations, and all the intricate and costly ac- page: 580-581[View Page 580-581] t fa580 SADOWA AND ITS TRAITOR. companiments of a mighty army. The small and frequent towns were nearly deserted; the images in the peasant's wayside altars and chapels, showed by their withered flowers that religion had abandoned the battle region; even Time was suspended, for the clocks in the town-towers were standing dumb. From the hill of Dub, Applegate saw the populous valley of the Bistritz rill, darkened with many wooden villages embowered in orchards, and the ridge on the farther banks was densely wooded. Here and there a church-spire stood above the petty, thatch-roofed hamlets like an appealing hand; but allt the far land- scape wore an ominous stillness, while in the fore- ground, under the trees of ripe cherries, through the beautiful grain-fields, and along the low, half-covered grounds, the brazen helmets of thousands of Prussians showed round their guidons and standards of black and white, and in the roadway, farther back, and through the dips of the fields, the tall Hussars and Uhlans waited by their horses, the batteries stood black and sullen, and the hospital flags hung dejected in the rainy sky. At once the storm of artillery began to open the way for the infantry to advance, and the warm, misty morning became filled with smoke and thunder. After some time the long blue lines swept across the little Bistritz, and then village after village burst into flame. Over many miles the stubborn contest extended, tarrying at desperate positions, then plunging into the low, dark woods, and so till lkte in the afternoon the two great German nations wrestled together. The : ridge of Sadowa was almost swept by Prince Karl, but SADOWA AND ITS TRAITOR. 581 still the issue none might guess; and Bittenfeldt was bending back the Austrian left; but the Prussians felt chiefly elated when they heard the cannons of the Crown Prince booming in the north, and heard the news that he was safely past the Trotinka. Still night was coming down, and the field was yet disputed at every point, while the armies of the Centre and the Oder had not yet closed column. "What is that?" cried Colonel Redan, suddenly, "waving on the church tower of Chlum? A Prussian flag? Why, that is a stratagem, or treachery! Chlum is the key to Benedek's position. Who could have planted it there?" "The Life Guards!" shouted the Prince Karl; -" it is the long-expected signal. The army of the Crown Prince has pierced the vital point. Now sound the charge along the whole line." The Prussian artillery ceased to play, and the whole line of infantry leaped up and moved nimbly up the ridges and though the woods. At the same time the army of the Elbe, on the right, marched by the flank from the lower Bistritz into the heart of the Austrian left, whils the Second Army swept everything from the hills of the Trotinka brook, and with the First Army marching straight by the road from Sadowa to Koniggratz, Benedek's fortunes had reached their pitch. A little while the loud volleys of musketry pealed, the Austrifan artillery screamed despair, their ardent cavalry ventured out into the cleared spaces and charged with lance and sabre; but the needle-gun was the spectre and terror of the day. High in the cloudy air the spirit of its inventor seemed to hover, rejoicing page: 582-583[View Page 582-583] in the butchery, waving on the levies of Hohenzollern. Before his apparition the Austrian Empire trembled as if at the tramp of an earthquake. The Prussians, firing with quick, steady, and close volleys, shot down the cannoneers, murdered the cavalry, broke through groves and grain-fields in one resistless line, and when Colonel Reddn and Applegate reached the ridge of Chlum they beheld the grand junction of the three Prussian armies, and all the long slopes and dips of the meadows toward the Elbe were filled with running white uniforms. The dead and dying lay along the highway, screaming for pity, as dragoons, Hussars, and Uhlans charged against them. The wooden villages lay in ashes, or smoked to heaven. A long wail arose between the fury of the volleys from every charred and splintered orchard. And as the rainy night fell upon the field of battle, it was illumined by the flash of-ob- stinate guns covering the way to Koniggratz, where the inflamed North Germans were driving the Kaiser's veterans into the swollen waters of the Elbe. But from the dying and the captives arose curses deeper than the voices of pain:- "Who gave up Chlum? What traitor uncovered Chlum? Was it Benedek? Was it Bruck?" The Colonel leaned across his horse's shoulder and said to Applegate, in a solemn voice:- "I have a presentiment of treason here!" 'And so have I!" said Applegate. "The traitor who withdrew from: Chlum in the pitch of the battle, and showed the Prussian lance where to probe to the vitals of Benedek, was in the pay of Count 1Bismarck, and he was --" "Hilt, the Englishman " "Hush!" whispered Applegate; "the very name is a stab to these dying Austrians." They waited a little while under the church-tower of Chlum, and the cheery voice of Mr. Oates was heard directly, crying at the tail of his wagon, in the little German he could express:-- "Here's the American soda and the celebrated cider of Tuckapuckl, New Jersey, fresh and cool with Boston ice." 'Encourage genooine enterprise, monarchs and veterans," interpolated Mrs. Oates, in English; ll the crowned heads drink it. Kings andpontiffs weep for it." * Mr. Oates -was presently surrounded with spent and wounded people, and he drove a thriving trade. "Halloo! Captain Applegate," he cried, after a time; "try a little ofthegenooine. ButI say, these Austrians are cussing your friend and patriot, ilt , as nigh as I can make out. He seems to have sold out on th e or tield, and now they say the Austrians have dragged him under guard to i owratz." A wild impulse came upon Alplegate to pierce to the Elbe and discover the fate of Hilt. An Aide-de- camp rushed in at the moment, and reported that the whole road onward for five miles was swept clean of all enemies, except the prisoners a nd those plraed hors du combat, and that even the guns of Koniggratz had ceased to play upon the pursuers. "Colonel Redan,'" said Applegate . "let us go forward and reconnoitre!" These two, followed by Max, started at a canter o ., page: 584-585[View Page 584-585] 584 SADOWA AND ITS TRAITOR. along the straight, hard road, and soon they saw before them in the night the wide Elbe, flooding all the meadows round the startled and moving lamps of the fortified town of Koniggratz. Only the long cries of the wounded and athirst came now from the trampled fields; for the rattle of musketry had receded to the far flanks, and in a little while they passed the last disabled Prussians,- those who had been too far in the front, and suffered for their hardihood, - and they joined the crowds of Austrian fugitives streaming toward the pontoon bridges of the Elbe. In the hurry and confusion of the flight, Benedek's troops had not even thrown out a provost-guard, or a picket; so that the way was quite clear to the very shores of the Elbe, but as the dense stream of fugitives left the highway before reaching the river, and passed the flanks of the fortress, Applegate's party found the causeways to the open sally-port obstructed only by felled trees, over which their horses picked the way. The bulbous Sclavonic domes and slender towers of the town rose against the sky as they reached the low, flat borders of the river, and signal lamps were seen flashing luridly above them, or mournful rockets guiding the columns of defeat. The bastions and curtains of the fortress walls were dark and silent, but low, surging voices were wafted over the dreary whiteness of the Elbe, and, looking back, they saw the dark slopes of the bat- tle-field glimmering with little fire-fly lamps, where hos- pital parties were picking up the wounded. "We shall be foolish to venture farther," said Colonel Redan, 'though it almost seems that the fortress is SADOWA AND ITS t'AITOR. 585 "Let us test it!" cried Applegate, with a plunge of his spurs. They passed all obstructions, and cleared the flooded ditches of Koniggratz. They reached the plaza, stopped by never a sentry, and stood amidst the, weary multi- tude gathered there. Max Blume looked round, and something upon the lean walls arrested his eye,-a group of men gathered at a bastion, a sharp word of command, and then two solitary figures, one crouching, one swaying in the soft night-breeze suspended from a gibbet. A hollow laugh rang out in the night, like that of a maniac, and then for a minute all was still. "Prussians in Koniggratz!" cried a sudden- voice. "Turn out the guard! Close the gates!" They were hemmed round in an instant; but the prompt wit of Colonel Redan had nearly saved them all. We come from the King of- Prussia," he said, "to demand the surrender of Koniggratz under penalty of bombardment at dawn." Theywere courteously conducted to the Command- ant's quarters, and interrogated by Colonel Bruck, their late Austrian friend. Beside him sat the ruined Bene- dek, and a lean, bowed, troubled old man, who, to- day, had lost a crown, - the King of Saxony. "The summons of the Kinog is declined," said Bruck. "We are not so poor, gentlemen, that we cannot tender you a glass of wine. Why, Mr. Shrink, is it you? Well, sir, be magnanimous and shake hands. To-day your favorite land of Italy ceases to be a geographical term. Venetia has passed from the hand of Austria after seventy years of conquest." I page: 586-587[View Page 586-587] 586 SADOWA AND ITS TRAITOR. In a few minutes an escort was furnished to protect the party back to the Prussian lines; but a desire to stay and fathom the mystery of Hilt overcame Apple- gate Shrink. He said-to Bruck: '"I am not a member of Colonel Redan's party, and have ventured here without orders." "I am sorry," said Bruck, " as my duty will compel me to detain you on parole. But come and walk with me, and see a friend of yours." They all ascended to the walls of the fortress, and stood by a naked, dishonored figure suspended from a gallows. A lamp was brought, and the purple and livid features of Applegate's relentless enemy were re- vealed, while at the foot of the gallowss, crouching low with a smile of satisfied vengeance upon his face, the man Trample sat, motionless. He had tracked the betrayer of his hearth to his doom at last. "Hilt was an atrocious villain," said Bruck," and he has been Bismarck's shadow and spy right here in our camp for three years. We found him out at last by the as- siduity of this poor lunatic, who has tried to make us hear his story for weeks. Unfortunately we repulsed him, and the result is -Chlum! To-day we offered to pay the man who brought us the proofs against him; but all he asked was the privilege of hanging Hilt, and we accorded it." Bruck shook the executioner sharply, but he did not stir. He held the lamp to his face, and the wide-open eyes did not shrink from the light. Applegate felt a thrill of pity in his own heart for both these desperate beings, and he made a silent resolve, and strengthened - it with a prayer that, God helpinglim, he would keep SADOWA AND ITS TRAITOR. 587 his life sincere and righteous for all the future of his days. "Colonel Reddn?' said Bruck, " there was but one per- son for whom this wretch had any respect,--your ward, Miss Agar. And around his neck, we found her picture. His boots, his accoutrements, and his clothes were full of plans, maps, treasonable information and a variety of odd trinkets and plunder. But he was a dashing scoundrel, without other than moral coward- ice, and he died with his old light, trivial smile. - Cast the carcass into the moat!" cried Bruck, "but give, this other one decent burial." They descended again to the Commandant's quarters, and amoncgst the trinkets taken from the body of Hilt; were a lock of hair, a plain watch-case, and a silver-gilt stiletto. Applegate looked at them with joy. "Colonel Bruck," he said, "these were mine, and they are very dear to me, as the betrothal gifts of that German girl who was travelling in Lombardy, with Miss Redtn." "Take them!" answered Bruck. "She was a charm- ing girl,--quite a lady, considering her condition. Now that Benedek is in disfavor, I suppose I shall have to marry somebody to take care of me. 'What do you think of Miss Kent?" "She is a chaste, generous, and true woman, and she loves you." "Thanks!" cried Bruck; "for that assurance you shall be treated as well as if we had captured the King of Prussia himself." Two hundred and sixty thousand Prussians had ema page: 588-589[View Page 588-589] 588 SADOWA AND ITS TRAITORo gaged, at Sadowa, two hundred and thirty thousand Austrians, and the loss was fifty thousand men, - four- fifths of these the Kaiser's. More than fourteen hun- dred cannons engaged in the battle, which was greater in number-s and proportions than any action ever fought by Napoleon. In three months, peace was declared, and Applegate's earnest wishes had been almost fully accomplished. The successor of that Frederick -Who, sending his sword to Washington, had said: "From the oldest general in Europe, to the greatest in the world," was now the monarch of the most powerful kingdom in Western Europe, with twenty -four millions of subjects, and five millions of permanent allies besides, and a disposable army of eleven hundred thousand men armed with the most deadly musket in Europe. Aus- tria had been driven out:of the German Confederacy, ands made to pay forty millions of thalers to her van- quisher. Prussia had absorbed many of the smaller States contiguous -to herelf, an'd compelled the petty despots of others to pay hpavy penalties. A great Prot- estant Empire was established on the Continent of Europe, and Italy had achieved her dream of unbroken dominion from the Alps to the Adriatic, the little ter- ritory of the Pope only excepted. But with this consummation Applegate's occupation was gone. His journal no longer stood in need of letters from the Continent, and he turned his thoughts toward his native country, almost as poor as when he left it. He could, at least, go home now in the cabin of a ship. But he resolved to take one last, wayside look upo n Bingen and its lost treasure. vlr u,uyr uu ,sv 'U ULVLwJI THE CURBCH-YARD AT BINGEN. 589 CHAPTER XL. THE CHURCH-YARD AT BINGEN. -IT was the autumn of the year 1866, and in the church-yard at Bingen on the Rhine a little group of people were collected about a stone which bore the words:- t ONE LOST ABROAD." One of these was a beautiful German peasant girl, her apron full of flowers which she was sadly scatter- ing over the stone; another was a lovely American lady, whose husband, a blonde, broad-shouldered man, supported her, while she wept. "Poor Applegate!" exclaimed the gentleman. "I little knew, my love, when I saved him from hunger at the Hague that he was your brother. Rash, sanguine, errant boy! To have perished thus untimely when his great future had nearly come!" "Alas!" said Gretchen, "you speak of fortune. I have at my home in the inn many gold pieces which he gave me to guard. Come with nre, and you shall take them." "My brother's friend," said the other; " then you did not know that Applegate's uncle had died, leaving him rich. Yes, my uncle repented of his harshness to the page: 590-591[View Page 590-591] 590 THE OHUC-tIYARD AT BINGEN. poor boy; but his bounty came too late. The pilgrim hadperished ere the good news could reach him." The two ladies embraced each other affectionately, and Gretchen's uncle, looking on, grew suddenly troubled. "What should you say," he asked, "if I were to tell you that Applegate Shrink had never been placed under that stone at all?" "Not placed here?" "No. It was a deception contrived by Max Blume, Mr. Applegate, andc myself, to make Gretchen here composed-in case the young man never recovered the trinkets of betrothal which had been stolen from him. Beneath that stone lies Master Bolivar Oates, whose parents became so poor that they could not bear the expense of sending his remains to America, and Ap- plegate interred them in this graveyard. But he is no less dead, for all that! He disappeared on the battle- field of Sadona, and has never been found." "There is no ground for hope then?" sobbed Apple- gate's sister. , "Yes, always," answered Gretchen, with that pure and beautiful religious look which had made her so dear to Applegate " even when they told me he reposed beneath that stone, I had hope. Now it is very strong again." -A party approached from the steamboat landing, and in a moment Gretchen, with an exclamation of quiet joy, was kissed by Agar Redan and by her brother Max. "My pretty mourner," said Colonel Redan, "we have come from the wars, and Max is a Lieutenant, promoted from the ranks. That is fortune for you I 'Yes," added lthe frank voice of Titus Oates, fol- THE CHURCH-YARD AT BINGEN. 591 lowed by his old-fashioned, knotty, gristly face, " we have all had luck. The Colonel is a General; Shave righted up, chiefly through the heroic sacrifices and business tact of the wonderful woman whom I now present." He introduced Mrs. Oates, who answered in a docile way:-- "Yes, we shall take home the best sovereigns of the country in our pockets. Tuckapuck will blossom like the rose." "You knew Applegate Shrink.?" exclaimed Apple- gate's sister; "here are two women who will be grate- ful for every word you can tell of his fate." "( That extray-ordinary young hero," said Mr. Oates,- "whose pluck for hanging on was only equalled by his who sleeps undernoeath this stone,--fought up from grade to grade. He had a -conquering face. Ntature made him a good consignment, and labelled him in illuminated colors. The Proosians all got to know -him. He was always down on Mrs. Oates's free list for the genooine American soda and the patent fermented Tuckapuck ale. He recommended 'em in the hour and article of victory. Animated by those noble bever- ages and his own impetuosity, he charged clean through the town of Chlum, cleared the Elbe River, and en- tered the wide-open gate of the great fort of Kobnig- gratz. There he overhauled a well-known enemy, and captured Miss Blume's engagement-rings, etceteray." "Yes, dear Gretchen," said Agar, "you whom I so unconsciously injured in Applegate's affections, he has made me the bearer of those precious gifts to you, They are here." page: 592-593[View Page 592-593] 592 THE CHURCH-YARD AT BINGEN. Tears, came to Gretchen's eyes. "Then he really lovedgme at last?" "Yes, sister," cried Max, "the constancy of that young man was sad to see. You had nearly spoiled a good soldier, but by luck you sent him away, and there was no better rider in all Bohemia." "O friends," said Gretchen, "if he be truly dead, you speak too lightly of him." e"There's no doubt -of his death," said Mr. Oates; "because- he informed me of it himself by letter. Here it is, and Colonel Bruck may read you a few lines of it." The Colonel read from the spot indicated by Mr. Oates: "I see that my name is printed amongst the dead or missing in the Prussian bulletins. Yes! I am dead to all that I love in Europe. If you should see her who was' once so dear to me at Bingen, say that my life shall begin anew in our newer world across the sea. When released from my captivity in Austria I shall set sail for America, "APPLEGATE." "Oh! happiness," cried Gretchen; "he lives, and some dearer one will take the place that I was too humble to fill." A figure in the dusty dress of a pedestrian strdent had meantime entered the church-yard, and stood some little way off leaning upon his staff, and resting his knapsack against a grave-slab. He was thin, tall, fair- haired, and sunburnt, and he looked older in the face than his lithe, boyish body would indicate. When THE CIURCH-YARD AT BINGEN. 593 Gretchen spoke, this figure came forward and stood amongst them, with uncovered head- Applegate Shrink. None knew him at first but Gretchen; for she had seen him wear that same homely dress in the steerage of the ship, and she looked at him in silent, speechless ecstasy, afraid by a word to break the spell and lose him forever. "Gretchen," said this figure, in a low, respectful voice, ". I could not quit Europe but by the way of Bin- gen, though I scarcely dared to dream that I might see you. I have taken once more this traveller's garb, be- cause it recalled to me the happiest, if the poorest, part of my life, when every dusty by-road was softened to my feet by the love you bore for me. Almost as poor aB when we met, with life's adventures all to begin anew, but chastened by the sad and. melancholy past, and calmer and stronger for human uses, I have come to ask your forgiveness and blessing, and to say fare- well!" / She did not move. His voice was so low and equal that she feared it was unreal. Then Applegate's sister advanced between them and joined their hands. "Dear, wandering brother," she said; "I have not come too late. I bring you both, the key to the future. Put by your staff and bundle. You are rich, in worldly goods, in experience, and in love." He saw the assurance of the last in Gretchen's eyes, where happy tears were standing, and he dried them upon his breast. "Fear not!" cried Colonel Redan, "we can all heartily appreciate this scene; for there are four bridal parties in Bingen to-day." page: 594-595[View Page 594-595] 594 TRE COiUmCH-YARD AT BINGEN. "Yes!" said Mr. Oates, "everybody is entering into contracts. Here is Applegate's sister married to his old friend, the Attache. Down at Gretchen's hotel are General Bruck and his bride,-that was Miss Kent. The third couple you could not guess?" "I can guess it," said Gretchen; "for my friend Agar told me the secret of her heart long ago." l"Yes, dear," answered Agar, with a softer lock from her large, gray eyes into the beaming face of the noble old Colonel, "my guardian was obliged, in order ,to cure me of my wilfulness, to make me his wife, That was the secret, Applegate, I wished to tell you at Rome. I knew that he had loved me long, yet was too foolish to ask, and when I had tried his goodness to the end, I told him so." "But the fourth couple," cried Max. "I don't see it yet." "You will see that to-night at Blume's hotel," an- swered Mr.- Oates, " when my remarkable wife brews a barrel of the celebrated Tuckapuck patent-fermented ale, and puts a fountain of the genooine American soda to play for all the people of Bingen. The pret- tiest girl in Hesse Darmstadt - or rather Prussia; for Applegate and Colonel Redin have annexed it- is to leave Bingen to-morrow." "Do you know who that is?" said Applegate to Gretchen. Her face was overspread with maiden blushes, but he held her softly by the hand, and she answered:- "I will go." THE END, d 6