“I have done so much harm in my life,” she said, “although I hoped only to do good! If you think—if you really think that I may do any good—that I may make any atonement—I will do as you wish. I have trodden my own wilful path so long, I will tread any other you point out to me.”
“I think this is best,” said the captain gently.
Miss Charlotte Carlaw came down the next day and the captain conducted her to Medmer Theed’s shop. The carriage in which she had arrived was left standing in the street outside the old archway, and the captain, without a word, guided her through the shop and opened the inner door and led her through. Then he came out and closed the door, and left the two women alone. He had previously prepared the shoemaker for what was to happen, and the old man had accepted it without question and appeared satisfied that she should go. As the captainstood waiting in the little shop, Medmer Theed sat on his bench, hammering softly at the leather, as of old.
In the room within Miss Charlotte Carlaw had paused for a moment with her hands stretched out gropingly. ’Linda came timidly toward her. “Where are you, child?” asked the old woman; and then their hands met and they drew close together. Perhaps it was the touch of a woman’s hand that ’Linda needed just then; she suddenly found herself drawing close to the strange old figure, and for the first time her tears began to flow.
“Let’s make a new beginning, child,” said Miss Carlaw softly. “And, for both our sakes, will you promise me never to speak of what is past and ended, never to refer to any one we both knew? Will you promise that?”
“Yes, I promise,” whispered the girl.
They came out together presently into the shop; the captain stood waiting to conduct them to the carriage. Medmer Theed still hammered softly on his leather. The girl went up to the shoemaker and put an arm about his neck and whispered his name; he looked up at her with a vacant expression, and she kissed him and murmured some broken words of thanks. He nodded his head slowly and went on with his work. He was still hammering when the carriage drove away, the captain standing bareheaded in the street, looking after them.
MEDMER MELTS A SILVER SPOON.
It was a clear, crisp November evening, with a touch of frost in the air, and the captain sat in his little parlour before a tiny fire, staring into the coals. Behind him on the table a candle, burning in a tall, old-fashioned candle-stick, threw a giant round-shouldered shadow of the captain on the wall and part of the ceiling of the room. Twoyears had gone by since the captain stood outside Medmer Theed’s shop and watched the carriage roll away—two years during which he had aged a little more, and had gone but little beyond the confines of his garden.
To-night he sat and stared into the coals and thought a little wistfully of the past, and wondered a little what had become of the figures that had acted out their lives in close contact with his—some of them, indeed, in that very room. He thought of the tiny child hugging a puppy in its arms, standing outside his gate looking up at him with big, frightened eyes; remembered sunny Sunday mornings when that child had sat beside him in the big pew in church. He sighed at last, and moved restlessly in his chair and turned his head to look round the familiar room.
There was a sudden sound of hesitating steps upon the gravel outside, and then a cautious lifting of the latch. The captain twisted in his chair and rose to his feet, picked up the candle from the table, and opened the door of the room. In the shadows of the little hallway he saw a man standing.
“Who’s there?” cried the captain, raising the light above his head.
The man came forward slowly until he stood within a yard of the light and raised his head. The captain staggered back a step into the room.
“Forgive me,” said the man huskily. “I have wandered outside this old place for an hour, fearing to come in, but now——I suppose you don’t care to—to take my hand?”
The captain had put down the candle hurriedly, and had the man by both hands and was dragging him in a feeble, excited fashion into the room. “Comethup—my boy—my boy!” he said, over and over again.
He got his visitor into a chair near the fire and began to chafe his half-frozen fingers and to put back the long hair from his face as though he had been tending a child. And while he did so Comethup looked steadily and smilinglyat him, and the little captain smiled back at Comethup.
“This is very good of you, sir,” said Comethup at last, in something of the old boyish voice. “I might have known you wouldn’t turn from me, however bad you might think I had been. And isn’t it good just to get back to the old room again? I’ve been so happy in this old room! What a little chap I was when I first came to you! Do you remember? And what a lot has happened since then—what a lot has happened!”
“Where have you been all this time, boy?” asked the captain, still chafing the other’s fingers. “Why have you never been near me?”
Comethup shook his head and smiled drearily. “No, I couldn’t do that,” he said. “I’ve had something of a fight for it, you know, with no weapons to fight with. Look at me”—he indicated his shabby, travel-stained dress by a gesture—“look at me; I’m little better than a tramp, you know. Why—God bless your simple heart, sir—I’m even in hiding.”
“In hiding?” echoed the captain.
“Yes. You know I borrowed a lot of money, and told the people from whom I borrowed it that I was my aunt’s heir. Well, it turned out I wasn’t; they haven’t been able to get their money back, and I haven’t been able to pay the interest. There are writs out against me, I believe, and all sorts of things. Oh, what a muddle it’s been, every bit of it!”
“But what are you going to do?” asked the captain.
“Well, if you’ll let me, I’d like to rest here just for to-night; and to-morrow, before the sun is up, I’ll be far away again. I’m going abroad, going to try and make a fresh start.”
“Is there no other way?” asked the captain.
“None. I’ve got to live somehow, and I must start in a new world, with a clean slate. But don’t let us talk any more about myself; tell me all that has happened in this long time. Poor Brian is dead, I understand.”
“Yes, he’s dead,” replied the captain slowly, “and isa greater man in death than he was in life. Do you know that they’ve raised a statue to him in this town, the place of his birth?”
“Yes, I heard of that,” replied Comethup. “I saw the statue only this evening. It’s curious that they should have stuck it up on the old walls where we used to play together when we were boys, isn’t it? It was half dark when I saw it, but it looks very fine, and they’ve caught his attitude to the life.”
“Yes, it’s quite like him,” replied the captain. “They made a great fuss of it at the time; it was raised by public subscription. He seems to have had a great many admirers.”
“Tell me of the others,” said Comethup. “What of—of ’Linda; is she well?”
“Yes, very well. She has been living since her husband’s death with Miss Carlaw, your aunt; so you understand she wants for nothing.”
“Thank God for that!” said Comethup fervently. “You’ve taken quite a load off my mind. I’ve thought of her a thousand times and feared that she might be in want and that I might not be able to help her. And my aunt, does she—does she still think badly of me?”
“I’m afraid so,” said the captain.
“Well, I gave her every reason to do so. There—don’t ask me anything about it, because I can’t tell even you; there are some things, you know, that one has to keep quite to one’s self. It’s good to know thatyoudon’t think so very badly of me; that you are willing to take me by the hand again just as though all this had never happened.” He got up from his chair and laid his hand on the captain’s shoulder. “If you’ll let me sleep in the little room in which I slept as a child I’ll be grateful to you. And let us say good-bye here for the last time. Long before you’re awake in the morning, old friend, I shall be gone. And I pray you, for the sake of the love you had for me so long ago, don’t think of me as you see me to-night—poor and broken and an outcast; but remember only the child you played with years and yearsago; remember only the boy you were proud of when you used to come and see me at school. Will you do that?”
“Boy or man, it makes no difference,” said the captain; “I can only think of you as I have thought of you always—as one who is nearer to my heart than any I have met on my journey through life.”
Before he could be prevented Comethup had caught the old man’s hands and had carried them swiftly to his lips. “Thank you,” he whispered; “God bless you! I can go now with a lighter heart than I have carried for a long time. Good-bye, old friend, good-bye!”
They gripped hands once more, and Comethup, crying lightly that he knew the way, stumbled out of the room and went swiftly upstairs, leaving the captain standing alone.
The captain sat down and tried to resume his thoughts. But everything seemed to have been tumbled about and thrust into fresh directions by the arrival of Comethup. After a little time the old man got up and reached down his heavy cloak and put on his hat and went softly out. The night was fine; only the slow chiming of the hour from the church clock struck upon his ears. He walked through the garden and out into the deserted streets.
Going along with bent head, pondering deeply, he was brought to a sudden recollection of his surroundings by hearing some one falter his name; he looked up with a start and saw ’Linda before him. So surprising had been the coming of the other visitor that he was scarcely startled to see her suddenly there before him; he did not even ask her the reason for her presence.
“I was coming to see you,” she whispered as she held his hand. “I have been trying to make up my mind to come to you all the afternoon.”
“Are you here alone?” he asked.
“Yes, quite alone. We are going abroad to-morrow, and I craved permission to come down to the old place once again. We may not be returning for years. I wanted—oh, can’t you understand?—I wanted just tocreep back here again for an hour or two; to visit the old scenes, perhaps even to dream some of the old dreams. And so I took a little room at the inn here, where no one seems to remember me, and I am going away quite early in the morning. Miss Carlaw is coming down to Deal to-morrow and I am to drive from here to meet her, and from there we start on our travels. But I felt I could not go away from the old place without seeing my old friend.”
The captain thought of the man who slept at his cottage, and decided at once that ’Linda must be kept away from there. “I am afraid,” he said, “that we shall have to say our farewells here. It is very late, and when a lady”—he threw a little light laughter into his tones—“when a lady is staying at an inn she must keep regular hours. I’m glad, for your sake, that you are going abroad. Come, let me take you back again.”
She seemed a little surprised at his apparent coldness, but took the arm he offered and walked on with him. Very little was said, but near the door of the inn she stopped for a moment, with both hands clasped on his arm, and looked away past him down the street. When at last she spoke her voice was very soft and tender, and trembled a little.
“It may be a long, long time before I see you again, dear old friend, and as this is to be our farewell there is something—something I would like to say to you. I seem again to-night to be a little child, just as I was in those old days when you put your cloak about me and hushed my weeping in your arms. I have given you, I fear, cause to think badly of me. Will you think better of me if I tell you that I would be glad to be a child again, weeping in the rain, if only I might do some of the things I have tried to do so much better? Something else I must say before I leave you. There was a man—a dear, good fellow—who loved me; I have thought of him—oh, believe me—with tears, many and many a night when I have lain awake. I fear there is no heaven I can reach; I am afraid that every gate of any paradisethat might be mine will be closed against me because I deserted him when he most needed me. Even you—good, kind friend that you are—even you don’t know everything. There is an image of stone over there”—she flung out her arm with a passionate gesture—“I saw it this afternoon, with its smiling face raised to the sky; I would that my hands were strong enough to tear it down! It mocks me where it stands—mocks the pain that rages in my heart. If you should ever see the man who loved me—the better man—will you tell him from me, now that it is too late, that I learned to love him with all my heart and soul; that I would that I might crawl to his feet and kiss them, and tell him so. Will you tell him that?”
“If I see him,” said the little captain, “I will tell him.”
She kissed him hurriedly and hugged him in the old, passionate, childish fashion, and ran into the inn. He waited for a few moments and then turned away. He was too upset by the events of the strange night to care to go back to his own cottage; more than all, he feared, in a vague fashion, to meet Comethup. With his hands clasped behind him under his cloak he walked on, scarcely knowing where he went, and found himself presently turning in under the archway which led to the shoemaker’s shop. He dared not think, dared not bring himself to the realization of the fact, that these two people were in the same town, almost within cry of each other, this night. He wanted to get away from the thought of it; wanted desperately to talk to some one. He saw a light gleaming through the shutters of Medmer Theed’s shop, and after hesitating for a moment knocked at the door.
He heard the bolt drawn inside, and the door was cautiously opened and the old man appeared, looking out at him. He was dressed only in his shirt and trousers, and with his unkempt gray hair tossed about his head looked a stranger, wilder figure even than usual. Seeing the captain, he held the door wider open and beckoned to his visitor to enter.
“Come in, come in,” he said in a mysterious whisper, “but let no one else come near.” He had closed the door by this time and shot the bolt. “You, who love her, have a right to be here; for we work together, you and I, for love of her, don’t we?”
“Of course,” said the captain, looking at him a little uneasily and wondering what he meant. “You are at work late to-night,” he added.
“Yes, very late, and with strange work.” He suddenly caught the captain by the arm and drew nearer to him. “Hush! Do you know thathehas come back?”
“I don’t understand you,” said the captain. “Who has come back?”
“The man who wronged her, the man they thought was dead. If they had wanted to keep him dead why did they thrust him up there for all men to see? why did they put him there against the sky to laugh at her and mock her and torture her afresh? Listen, and I’ll tell you something. Just as I watched for her, night after night, through storm and rain and starlight, till she came to me, so I have watched for him, night after night, through storm and rain, till he has come back too. I tell you they can not kill him; he is here to work harm to her still, to wring fresh tears from her. At night, when all men sleep, he comes down and prowls round here searching for her, waiting for her. I’ve seen him.”
The captain shook his hand off half angrily, half fearfully. “What madness is this?” he cried. “The man is dead and can trouble her no more; that is but an image of stone, the work of men’s hands. The man lies in his grave, miles away from here.”
Medmer Theed shook his head obstinately and laughed. “You don’t know,” he said, “you don’t know. My dreams have taught me more than you could learn. Dead or not, I tell you that his spirit has come back, and waits there at night to work fresh evil to her. And that’s where my dreams and my love for her shall help me.”
He laid his hand again on the captain’s arm and drew him into the inner room. A bright fire burned inthe little grate, and thrust into the very heart of it was a small crucible; the captain, drawing nearer, saw that the handle of an old-fashioned spoon projected above the edge of it.
“Why, what are you doing?” he asked.
The shoemaker chuckled and softly stirred the fire. “There is but one way to kill a spirit,” he whispered, looking up at his companion. “Lead or iron or steel won’t do; it wants finer stuff. Silver’s the stuff. You are a man of war, and might bring a regiment against him in vain; but this little silver bullet, if it can but reach him, will put an end to his mischief forever. See”—he pulled open a drawer in a little table and took out an old-fashioned, heavy-barrelled pistol and a small instrument, shaped almost like a pair of pincers, for moulding bullets—“I am all prepared. The silver is good, the pistol aims truly. He shall not trouble her any more.”
The captain, glancing at him in perplexity, saw in his eyes a madness of determination he had not seen in any face before; he understood that whatever wild thought was in the old man’s brain it would be useless to attempt to combat it. After lingering for some minutes, during which time the little mass of silver in the bottom of the crucible gradually increased in bulk, he bade the old man good-night, and went out. As he looked back from the doorway he saw the wild old figure still bending over the fire, laughing softly and muttering incoherent things.
COMETHUP LEARNS THE TRUTH.
Quite early in the morning, almost before the gray dawn had come stealing across the sky, ’Linda left the inn and set out swiftly for the outer walls of the town. Some of the old glamour of the romantic personality of thedead man was still upon her, some faint pride in him still remained. She wanted to see that statue which had been raised to him, and of which she had caught a glimpse as she drove into the town on the previous day; she wanted to see it when no one else was there, to carry away in her memory the thought of him as he stood thus and looked in all men’s eyes, and so perhaps to wipe away the memory of the poorer, meaner thing she knew him to have been.
A white, heavy mist was blowing across the marshy lands from the sea; as she came up upon the grass-grown old walls the mists were floating and flowing about the statue, hiding and showing it by turns. She went close and looked up at it for a long time.
The sculptor had been happy in striking the characteristic attitude of the man. The figure stood with one hand lightly planted on the hip and the other hanging by the side; the head was thrown back and the face, with the old daring, wilful smile upon it, turned toward the sky. It was strange to see him there, high above her, on the very spot where they had wandered and played together as children. She turned away at last and began slowly to retrace her steps, looking back once or twice at the silent figure above her.
Suddenly she heard quick steps behind her and, turning sharply, saw the figure of a man looming out of the mist. The man came nearer with a half-stealthy movement that frightened her. She was on the point of crying out, and had stopped, scarcely knowing what to do, when the man overtook her in a stride or two, and peered into her face and cried her name. With a great feeling of relief she put out her hand to him.
“Old Medmer Theed!” she exclaimed. “Dear old friend, you startled me for a moment; I could not distinguish you in this mist.”
He paid no heed to what she said; he did not even notice the hand she held out to him. “So he draws you here still,” he muttered half to himself. “It is as I thought; his power is still as great as ever. See”—heleaned toward her and peered into her face—“your face is white and there are tears in your eyes. But it shall end, child; he shall trouble you no more.”
She remembered afterward that he kept one hand behind him, as though he held something in it—something he did not wish her to see. Fearing that some strange, wild thought such as had troubled him in the old days was troubling him again, she spoke soothingly to him and smiled. “Indeed, there is nothing to trouble me,” she said lightly; “all my troubles are ended.”
“Then why do you come here?” he asked suspiciously. “Why should you come here except to meet him? and why should you weep when you meet him?”
“I don’t understand,” she said, looking at him with a puzzled expression. “I have not come here to meet any one; no one is awake yet, save ourselves.”
“Ah! he comes only when others sleep,” muttered the old man. “I was here but yesterday and saw him creeping round here, and watching and waiting. And he has drawn you to him.”
“Tell me what you mean!” she cried. “What have you seen?”
He pointed to the statue towering above them through the mist, and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I have seen his spirit—the spirit of him they think dead—come down in lonely hours and wait here for you.”
“Oh, no, no!” she cried, startled. “This is only one of your dreams; people can not come back from the dead. Forget all about it, I beg of you; believe me, it is only one of your dreams.”
For answer he suddenly gripped her arm and pointed, with the hand that had been behind him, in the direction of the statue; she saw that he held something in that hand, although she could not see clearly what it was. “Then what is that?” he cried. “See, there he is, waiting still!”
With a cry he sprang forward and dropped on one knee in the roadway, and pointed with his arm. Another figure had appeared from beyond the statue and was standingbefore it, looking up at it—the tall figure of a man. While ’Linda glanced from the figure back to the old man kneeling in the roadway, she was stunned by a sudden loud report and a blinding flash that seemed to scatter and drive away the mist; and then, in a moment, the figure before the statue turned swiftly round and stumbled and flung up its arms and fell prone before it. She ran to it and, scarcely knowing what she did, turned it over and looked down at the face. And it was the face of Comethup!
She had a dim, wild, despairing hope that she might be dreaming; that the gray morning and the stone figure at the foot of which she knelt, and the man whose head was propped upon her arm, and the wild old figure standing weeping and beating its breast beside her might all be shadows in a dream she would wake to forget. But when she heard the voice of the man in her arms she knew that it was all true.
“’Linda! God is very merciful—and all the world he builds for us is very, very right—and very sweet. But a moment ago, as I stood there, with nothing to hope for—hold me closer and look into my eyes—I prayed for death. And see—in a moment it comes—swiftly, too. I don’t—don’t understand, but it’s all—all very right, isn’t it?”
“Dear,” she whispered, “can’t we do anything? Tell me—you are not—not really hurt?”
He smiled up at her with the smile she knew and remembered so well. “We must not—must not lie to each other now,” he said, “because there is so little time. I am dying——No, don’t turn your face away; keep your arms tight about me. He did not—did not know; don’t let them—harm him. Quick—there is little time; tell me—why you are here. Have you left her?”
“I am going—going abroad with her. I came here to see the old place again for the last time.”
“God is very good,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “I might have died—without seeing you.” He stirred a little in her arms and tried weakly to thrust her away.“Now, you—you must go; you must leave me, dear. You must go—back to her.”
“No, no,” she cried, holding him closer. “I will not leave you now.”
“You must—you must. And take him with you. Hide him; don’t let them harm him. Oh, why torture me now? Do me this one—one last service. Go back—back to her; keep this from her. Tell her—some day—that I died—you need not—tell her—anything else. Will you go?”
“I can not, I can not!” she cried, weeping.
“You must—or you will undo—all I have tried—so hard to do. Don’t you understand?” He raised his eyes to the statue above them. “See—he smiles above us. You must leave me here. Here is my—resting place—here my fitting—monument. Leave me—here.” His eyes were closing again; his hands were groping for hers.
She bent nearer to him, kissed him on the lips, and whispered: “Listen. I will do all you wish, because—because I love you. Can you hear me?”
He smiled and gripped her hands more tightly. Bending to him again, she caught the whisper as she touched his lips: “God—is very good.” And then his eyes closed, and he died.
For a little time she sat holding him in her arms; then resolutely—remembering her promise—she got up and laid him gently at the foot of the statue, and caught the old man by the hand and ran down the hill toward the town. All was quiet. She noticed, as they went along swiftly, that the old man, who still carried the pistol in his hand, had lost the old strong dominant look from his face and was weak and passive as a child. She took the pistol from him, shuddering a little as she touched it, and hid it in her dress; took him to the door of his shop and thrust him in, and bade him, as she left him, be silent and to tell no one of his dreams. As she came out into the little street again, shaking from head to foot and striving to master her tears, the old man ran after her. He was smiling foolishly.
“I dreamt there was blood upon him; but that—that was long ago, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, yes; long ago,” she whispered hurriedly. “Go back, and tell no one your dream.”
Fortunately she had ordered a carriage very early, that she might drive to Deal in time to meet Miss Carlaw. She kept her veil down as she entered the inn and got away from it as quickly as possible, refusing anything to eat. She scarcely dared speak to any one lest she should betray her agitation. Safely in the carriage at last, she knew that she must pass almost within sight of the spot where the statue stood with the dead man lying at its foot; it seemed horrible to have to go away and leave him there—dead—to be found by strangers. And then, with another burst of tears, she remembered how he had smiled as he died, and how she had promised to keep all knowledge of it from the old woman. Humbled and broken and afraid, she clasped her hands before her face and prayed silently for strength to keep that promise to him at least. She was grateful to think, for the first time, when she reached Deal that her companion was blind and could not see her face. Miss Carlaw, guessing perhaps that her visit to the old place had awakened sorrowful memories, said but little to her and left her to herself when, after reaching Dover, they took the night boat for Calais.
And while most of the passengers were asleep ’Linda crept on deck and stole to the side of the vessel and dropped the heavy, old-fashioned pistol into the sea.
AUNT CHARLOTTE ATTENDS A CELEBRATION.
“You have not yet told me why you returned so suddenly to England,” said ’Linda.
She was seated on a low stool beside Miss CharlotteCarlaw’s chair; her head was resting against the old woman’s knee. Miss Carlaw, leaning in her old attitude on her stick, had been silent for some time. The two women had returned only the day before, quite suddenly and unexpectedly, from the Continent.
“Well, there were several reasons, my child,” she said. “I’ve been growing older within these past few months—older not only in years but in my outlook on life, I think. You’ll laugh, perhaps, when I say it, but I’ve gone through many, many years of my life in a sort of wild hurry, striving to get out of it—out of every hour of it—the most that could be squeezed. If I had my time to come again, I think—no, I am quite sure—that I should linger a little by the roadside, as it were; perhaps in that way I should see more of it, and should understand more clearly the meaning of it all. The nearer we come to the finish of it, child, the more clearly do we understand that it is not for us to judge; not for us, in our petty fashion, to say what is right or what is wrong. Only at the end, when we go to Him who sent us here, carrying in our hands the poor little fruits of what we have done, can we know how sadly we have blundered, how much there is that we might have done better. Look at me, ’Linda; I started without eyes, but even that should not have blinded me to all the better things I passed by. And so, before it is too late, I want to do one little thing that I have left undone; I want in all humility to make some reparation to you.”
“Reparation? To me?”
“Yes, to you. There was a time—a long while ago—when I thought hardly of you, because I thought you had deceived some one I loved. Well, perhaps you judged him better than I did; perhaps, after all, I was the poor fool who was deceived, and you—out of that love which teaches a woman more than anything else can do—found the better man, after all. You remember I came to you, pitying your loneliness, when he died, and I have been more than recompensed by your love and devotion to me since.”
“You have been very, very good to me,” said ’Linda in a low voice. “But for you I might have been left destitute.”
“There, there, we won’t talk of that,” said the old woman. “You know, since we have been abroad our good old friend the captain has written to us more than once. He mentioned in one of his letters to me about the statue which had been erected to your husband. I don’t want to trouble you with sad memories, but it has occurred to me that you might like to go again to the place where he was born and to the place where they love and remember him so well. Help me to be unselfish, child, for I fear that I have selfishly tried to thrust out of your memory any thought of him. I know you loved him, and he was, perhaps, a better man than I judged him to be. Will you forgive me if I have misjudged him?”
“Indeed, I have nothing to forgive,” replied ’Linda.
“Ah, you say that out of your good heart; but I reproach myself very much that I have not been gentler with you—that I have not considered your grief a little more. Now, listen to me. The captain told me in his letter—you remember you read it to me—he told me that on the anniversary of Brian Carlaw’s birth there was going to be a great celebration; that the people of the little town were going to put wreaths and flowers at the foot of the statue; that many celebrated people who had known and loved and admired him in life would be there to show their respect for his memory. And that has brought me back to England.”
’Linda sat quite still, listening. Before her mental vision passed a picture of a man lying dying at the foot of that statue; a man who had willingly and cheerfully given all he possessed in life for her; a man who had thought that God was good because the woman who had cast him aside kissed his lips at the last.
“And so, my dear child,” went on the unconscious old woman, “I have made up my mind that we will go down there at the time of this celebration, and you shall takeyour place as you should by the memorial of the man you loved. That is only fair and just and right; that has brought me back to England. Come, tell me that it will make you happy to go back to the old place again, to feel some pride—as you must feel—in the man whom all others are honouring.”
“I—I think—I fear the journey would be too much for you,” said ’Linda, striving to steady her voice. “Indeed, you must not do this for my sake.”
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Miss Carlaw. “I’ve set my heart upon it, and I shall be bitterly disappointed if you don’t carry out my wishes. You must be proud of him, and it will take the keenest edge off your sorrow and make you think kindly of him if you go. I am going to have my own way in this, I can assure you. We’ll go down together to the grave of the man you love, for I suppose they buried him there?”
’Linda did not answer. A sudden new thought had come into her head—a thought that brought a quick flush to her cheek and filled her eyes with tears. “It shall be as you wish,” she said after a pause.
The celebration of which the captain had written—the anniversary of Brian Carlaw’s birth—was three days later; the two women went down late on the day before, and secured rooms at the inn at which Miss Charlotte Carlaw had previously stopped. Early the following morning, after they had breakfasted, they set out on foot for the place; for Miss Carlaw had said: “We’ll have no ostentation about the matter; and we’ll get there early, before the other people arrive.”
Their walk was a short one; the old blind woman, leaning on ’Linda’s arm, was led through a gate and then found her feet walking softly on grass; on the sweet summer air the scent of roses was borne pleasantly. “A sweet and pleasant place,” she murmured as they walked on.
They went some little distance farther and then ’Linda stopped. “This is the place,” she whispered. “The man I loved sleeps here.” The arm on whichMiss Carlaw leaned seemed to tremble, and she thought that the girl was weeping.
“How very quiet it all is!” said Miss Carlaw in a hushed voice. “I can only hear the twitter of the birds and the rustle of the wind in the leaves. The people, where are the people? Has no one arrived yet? Please remember that I am blind, dear; you must be eyes for me?”
“No; the people are not here; we are quite alone,” said ’Linda.
“But the statue; describe the statue to me.”
“It is a statue that only I can see,” said ’Linda slowly; “ever since he died I have seen it towering to the very heavens, putting me to shame. It is the statue of a great and good man—a man so splendid in one purpose and one hope and one faith that all other men sink into nothingness beside him. And in the eyes—oh, can I ever forget them?—in the eyes there is a light of such love, such goodness, such forgiveness, that they burn forever into my soul, until I try to close my own to shut the light of them out.”
Miss Carlaw, wondering and trembling, made a sudden step forward and stumbled over something; she recoiled and caught ’Linda’s arm. “What place is this?” she whispered. “That was a grave I stumbled upon. Where have you brought me?”
“To the grave of the man I loved,” said ’Linda, weeping. “There is no statue here—not even a headstone; no crowds come here to worship. The only wreath upon the grave is that of a few humble flowers twined by the hands of an old soldier who loved him. This is the grave of the man I loved—the grave of Comethup Willis.”
Miss Charlotte Carlaw began to tremble and her hands went up falteringly to her lips. “What is this? What do you mean? Why have you brought me here?”
“To right a wrong—to tell an old, sad story that should have been told long since. Sit down here; it is a quiet place, wherein he wandered as a little child; he sleeps soundly now beside those who loved him. Youthought that he was wild and reckless, that he spent your money shamefully, that he traded upon the fact that he might one day expect it all. Do you know on whom that money was spent?”
“No, no; tell me,” faltered the old woman.
“For years and years he was robbed by the man I thought the best on earth, and by that man’s father. When he was but a boy, travelling with you on the Continent, those two—father and son—were following him from place to place, preying upon him—living upon him. They had nothing of their own. The very money that enabled Brian to fly with me and to marry me—oh, the bitter, bitter shame of it!—was wrung from the man who loved me. I had nothing, and Brian earned scarcely anything at all; I lived in a fool’s paradise. The very dress I wore, the food I ate, everything was bought with his money. You have told me how he borrowed a large sum of money, and how you discarded him for it. That money was borrowed when extravagance had taken all that Comethup had and when he feared I might come to want. I have tried to tell you this again and again, although I only knew it from your lips a few weeks ago; they kept me in ignorance until the very last of what the true facts of the case were.”
There was a long pause. Miss Charlotte Carlaw was rocking herself to and fro and moaning fitfully. “Is this—is this true?” she asked at last in a whisper.
“Yes, it’s all true,” said ’Linda.
“And is he dead? Can I never—never take him in my arms again; never whisper to him how sorry I am? Tell me, how did he die?”
“He died quite—quite suddenly. He was killed. He was mistaken for—for some one else by a man who was mad, a man who mercifully forgot all about it afterward and whose crime was never discovered. But you will like to know that he died in my arms, that I was able to tell him at the last what had been in my heart so long—that I loved him. I was able to kiss him—and he died in my arms, smiling, and saying that God was very good. Ihave written—a long time ago—and told his old friend the captain all this, so that the captain might think well of him. And that is all.”
The old woman was kneeling beside the grave. “Oh, my boy, my boy,” she whispered; “dear Prince Charming, if you can hear me now, forgive an old woman who loved you with all her heart and soul, and who did not understand until it was too late.—And, oh, most merciful God,” she added, raising her face toward the sky, “I thank thee that Prince Charming lives again—that thou hast given him back to me!”
All was quiet and restful about them; the birds twittered softly among the branches, and the scent of the roses floated to them from the garden of the little cottage against the wall of the church—the roses among which poor Comethup had wandered and dreamed his dreams as a little child.
THE END.
APPLETONS’ TOWN AND COUNTRY LIBRARY.PUBLISHED SEMIMONTHLY.1.The Steel Hammer.ByL. Ulbach.2.Eve.ByS. Baring-Gould.3.For Fifteen Years.ByL. Ulbach.4.A Counsel of Perfection.ByL. Malet.5.The Deemster.ByH. Caine.5½.The Bondman.ByH. Caine.6.A Virginia Inheritance.ByE. Pendleton.7.Ninette.By the author of Véra.8. “The Right Honourable.” ByJ. McCarthyand Mrs.Campbell-Praed.9.The Silence of Dean Maitland.ByM. Gray.10.Mrs. Lorimer.ByL. Malet.11.The Elect Lady.ByG. MacDonald.12.The Mystery of the “Ocean Star.”ByW. C. Russell.13.Aristocracy.14.A Recoiling Vengeance.ByF. Barrett.15.The Secret of Fontaine-la-Croix.ByM. Field.16.The Master of Rathkelly.ByH. Smart.17.Donovan.ByE. Lyall.18.This Mortal Coil.ByG. Allen.19.A Fair Emigrant.ByR. Mulholland.20.The Apostate.ByE. Daudet.21.Raleigh Westgate.ByH. K. Johnson.22.Arius the Libyan.23.Constance, andCalbot’s Rival. ByJ. Hawthorne.24.We Two.ByE. Lyall.25.A Dreamer of Dreams.By the author of Thoth.26.The Ladies’ Gallery.ByJ. 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D.52.Aline.ByH. Gréville.53.Joost Avelingh.ByM. Maartens.54.Katy of Catoctin.ByG. A. Townsend.55.Throckmorton.ByM. E. Shawell.56.Expatriation.By the author of Aristocracy.57.Geoffrey Hampstead.ByT. S. Jarvis.58.Dmitri.ByF. W. Bain, M.A.59.Part of the Property.ByB. Whitby.60.Bismarck in Private Life.By a Fellow-Student.61.In Low Relief.ByM. Roberts.62.The Canadians of Old.ByP. Gaspé.63.A Squire of Low Degree.ByL. A. Long.64.A Fluttered Dovecote.ByG. M. Fenn.65.The Nugents of Carriconna.ByT. Hopkins.66.A Sensitive Plant.By E. and D.Gerard.67.Doña Luz.ByJ. Valera. Translated by Mrs.M. J. Serrano.68.Pepita Ximenez.ByJ. Valera. Translated by Mrs.M. J. Serrano.69.The Primes and their Neighbors.ByR. M. Johnston.70.The Iron Game.ByH. F. Keenan.71.Stories of Old New Spain.ByT. A. Janvier.72.The Maid of Honor.By Hon. L. Wingfield.73.In the Heart of the Storm.ByM. Gray.74.Consequences.ByE. Castle.75.The Three Miss Kings.ByA. Cambridge.76.A Matter of Skill.ByB. Whitby.77.Maid Marian, and Other Stories.ByM. E. Seawell.78.One Woman’s Way.ByE. Pendleton.79.A Merciful Divorce.ByF. W. Maude.80.Stephen Ellicott’s Daughter.By Mrs.J. H. Needell.81.One Reason Why.ByB. Whitby.82.The Tragedy of Ida Noble.ByW. C. Russell.83.The Johnstown Stage, and Other Stories.ByR. H. Fletcher.84.A Widower Indeed.ByR. BroughtonandE. Bisland.85.The Flight of a Shadow.ByG. MacDonald.86.Love or Money.ByK. Lee.87.Not All in Vain.ByA. Cambridge.88.It Happened Yesterday.ByF. Marshall.89.My Guardian.ByA. Cambridge.90.The Story of Philip Methuen.By Mrs.J. H. Needell.91.Amethyst.ByC. R. Coleridge.92.Don Braulio.ByJ. Valera. Translated byC. Bell.93.The Chronicles of Mr. Bill Williams.ByR. M. Johnston.94.A Queen of Curds and Cream.ByD. Gerard.95.“La Bella” and Others.ByE. Castle.96. “December Roses.” By Mrs.Campbell-Praed.97.Jean de Kerdren.ByJ. Schulte.98.Etelka’s Vow.ByD. Gerard.99.Cross Currents.ByM. A. Dickens.100.His Life’s Magnet.ByT. Elmolin.101.Passing the Love of Women.By Mrs.J. H. Needell.102.In Old St. Stephen’s.ByJ. Drake.103.The Berkeleys and their Neighbors.ByM. E. Seawell.104.Mona Maclean, Medical Student.ByG. Travers.105.Mrs. Bligh.ByR. Broughton.106.A Stumble on the Threshold.ByJ. Payn.107.Hanging Moss.ByP. Lindau.108.A Comedy of Elopement.ByC. Reid.109.In the Suntime of her Youth.ByB. Whitby.110.Stories in Black and White.ByT. Hardyand Others.110½.An Englishman in Paris.111.Commander Mendoza.ByJ. Valera.112.Dr. Paull’s Theory.By Mrs.A. M. Diehl.113.Children of Destiny.ByM. E. Seawell.114.A Little Minx.ByA. Cambridge.115.Capt’n Davy’s Honeymoon.ByH. Caine.116.The Voice of a Flower.ByE. Gerard.117.Singularly Deluded.ByS. Grand.118.Suspected.ByL. Stratenus.119.Lucia, Hugh, and Another.By Mrs.J. H. Needell.120.The Tutor’s Secret.ByV. Cherbuliez.121.From the Five Rivers.By Mrs.F. A. Steel.122.An Innocent Impostor, and Other Stories.ByM. Gray.123.Ideala.ByS. Grand.124.A Comedy of Masks.ByE. DowsonandA. 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Burgin.227.The Clash of Arms.ByJ. Bloundelle-Burton.228.God’s Foundling.ByA. J. Dawson.229.Miss Providence.ByD. Gerard.230.The Freedom of Henry Meredyth.ByM. Hamilton.231.Sweethearts and Friends.ByM. Gray.232.Sunset.ByB. Whitby.233.A Fiery Ordeal.ByTasma.234.A Prince of Mischance.ByT. Gallon.235.A Passionate Pilgrim.ByP. White.236.This Little World.ByD. C. Murray.237.A Forgotten Sin.ByD. Gerard.238.The Incidental Bishop.ByG. Allen.239.The Lake of Wine.ByB. Capes.240.A Trooper of the Empress.ByC. Ross.241.Torn Sails.ByA. Raine.242.Materfamilias.ByA. Cambridge.243.John of Strathbourne.ByR. D. Chetwode.244.The Millionaires.ByF. F. Moore.245.The Looms of Time.By Mrs.H. Fraser.246.The Queen’s Cup.ByG. A. Henty.247.Dicky Monteith.ByT. Gallon.248.The Lust of Hate.ByG. Boothby.249.The Gospel Writ in Steel.ByArthur Paterson.250.The Widower.ByW. E. Norris.251.The Scourge of God.ByJ. Bloundelle-Burton.252.Concerning Isabel Carnaby.ByEllen Thorneycroft Fowler.253.The Impediment.ByDorothea Gerard.254.Belinda—and Some Others.ByEthel Maude.255.The Key of the Holy House.ByAlbert Lee.256.A Writer of Books.ByGeorge Paston.257.The Knight of the Golden Chain.ByR. D. Chetwode.258.Ricroft of Withens.ByHalliwell Sutcliffe.259.The Procession of Life.ByHorace A. Vachell.260.By Berwen Banks.ByAllen Raine.261.Pharos, the Egyptian.ByGuy Boothby.262.Paul Carah, Cornishman.ByCharles Lee.263.Pursued by the Law.ByJ. Maclaren Cobban.264.Madame Izàn.By Mrs.Campbell-Praed.265.Fortune’s my Foe.ByJ. Bloundelle-Burton.266.A Cosmopolitan Comedy.ByAnna Robeson Brown.267.The Kingdom of Hate.ByT. Gallon.268.The Game and the Candle.ByRhoda Broughton.269.Dr. Nikola’s Experiment.ByGuy Boothby.270.The Strange Story of Hester Wynne.ByG. Colmore.271.Lady Barbarity.ByJ. C. Snaith.272.A Bitter Heritage.ByJohn Bloundelle-Burton.273.The Heiress of the Season.By SirWilliam Magnay, Bart.“In their ‘Town and Country Library,’ as it is known familiarly, the Messrs. Appleton have been remarkably successful both in preserving a good standard and in the matter of popularity. Presumably this is one of the very few efforts of the kind which have been successful for more than a few months. And we think the secret of continued success lies in the discrimination used in selecting tales that are clean, pure, and withal of interest to the average reader’s intelligence; and, furthermore, to the fact that the editors have been using American stories more and more frequently.”—New York Mail and Express.“The percentage of excellence maintained throughout has been extraordinary. It is probably within bounds to say that no other list of legitimate fiction can show so many names of the first rank as judged by popularity. From time to time in this manner new and powerful pens are introduced.”—Rochester Herald.
APPLETONS’ TOWN AND COUNTRY LIBRARY.
PUBLISHED SEMIMONTHLY.
1.The Steel Hammer.ByL. Ulbach.2.Eve.ByS. Baring-Gould.3.For Fifteen Years.ByL. Ulbach.4.A Counsel of Perfection.ByL. Malet.5.The Deemster.ByH. Caine.5½.The Bondman.ByH. Caine.6.A Virginia Inheritance.ByE. Pendleton.7.Ninette.By the author of Véra.8. “The Right Honourable.” ByJ. McCarthyand Mrs.Campbell-Praed.9.The Silence of Dean Maitland.ByM. Gray.10.Mrs. Lorimer.ByL. Malet.11.The Elect Lady.ByG. MacDonald.12.The Mystery of the “Ocean Star.”ByW. C. Russell.13.Aristocracy.14.A Recoiling Vengeance.ByF. Barrett.15.The Secret of Fontaine-la-Croix.ByM. Field.16.The Master of Rathkelly.ByH. Smart.17.Donovan.ByE. Lyall.18.This Mortal Coil.ByG. Allen.19.A Fair Emigrant.ByR. Mulholland.20.The Apostate.ByE. Daudet.21.Raleigh Westgate.ByH. K. Johnson.22.Arius the Libyan.23.Constance, andCalbot’s Rival. ByJ. Hawthorne.24.We Two.ByE. Lyall.25.A Dreamer of Dreams.By the author of Thoth.26.The Ladies’ Gallery.ByJ. McCarthyand Mrs.Campbell-Praed.27.The Reproach of Annealey.ByM. Gray.28.Near to Happiness.29.In the Wire Grass.ByL. Pendleton.30.Lace.ByP. Lindau.30½.The Black Poodle.ByF. Anstey31.American Coin.By the author of Aristocracy.32.Won by Waiting.ByE. Lyall.33.The Story of Helen Davenant.ByV. Fane.34.The Light of Her Countenance.ByH. H. Boyesen.35.Mistress Beatrice Cope.ByM. E. Le Clerc.36.The Knight-Errant.ByE. Lyall.37.In the Golden Days.ByE. Lyall.38.Giraldi.ByR. G. Dering.39.A Hardy Norseman.ByE. Lyall.40.The Romance of Jenny Harlowe, andSketches of Maritime Life. ByW. C. Russell.41.Passion’s Slave.ByR. Ashe-King.42.The Awakening of Mary Fenwick.ByB. Whitby.43.Countess Loreley.ByR. Menger.44.Blind Love.ByW. Collins.45.The Dean’s Daughter.ByS. F. F. Veitch.46.Countess Irene.ByJ. Fogerty.47.Robert Browning’s Principal Shorter Poems.48.Frozen Hearts.ByG. W. Appleton.49.Djambek the Georgian.ByA. G. von Suttner.50.The Craze of Christian Engelhart.ByH. F. Darnell.51.Lal.ByW. A. Hammond, M. D.52.Aline.ByH. Gréville.53.Joost Avelingh.ByM. Maartens.54.Katy of Catoctin.ByG. A. Townsend.55.Throckmorton.ByM. E. Shawell.56.Expatriation.By the author of Aristocracy.57.Geoffrey Hampstead.ByT. S. Jarvis.58.Dmitri.ByF. W. Bain, M.A.59.Part of the Property.ByB. Whitby.60.Bismarck in Private Life.By a Fellow-Student.61.In Low Relief.ByM. Roberts.62.The Canadians of Old.ByP. Gaspé.63.A Squire of Low Degree.ByL. A. Long.64.A Fluttered Dovecote.ByG. M. Fenn.65.The Nugents of Carriconna.ByT. Hopkins.66.A Sensitive Plant.By E. and D.Gerard.67.Doña Luz.ByJ. Valera. Translated by Mrs.M. J. Serrano.68.Pepita Ximenez.ByJ. Valera. Translated by Mrs.M. J. Serrano.69.The Primes and their Neighbors.ByR. M. Johnston.70.The Iron Game.ByH. F. Keenan.71.Stories of Old New Spain.ByT. A. Janvier.72.The Maid of Honor.By Hon. L. Wingfield.73.In the Heart of the Storm.ByM. Gray.74.Consequences.ByE. Castle.75.The Three Miss Kings.ByA. Cambridge.76.A Matter of Skill.ByB. Whitby.77.Maid Marian, and Other Stories.ByM. E. Seawell.78.One Woman’s Way.ByE. Pendleton.79.A Merciful Divorce.ByF. W. Maude.80.Stephen Ellicott’s Daughter.By Mrs.J. H. Needell.81.One Reason Why.ByB. Whitby.82.The Tragedy of Ida Noble.ByW. C. Russell.83.The Johnstown Stage, and Other Stories.ByR. H. Fletcher.84.A Widower Indeed.ByR. BroughtonandE. Bisland.85.The Flight of a Shadow.ByG. MacDonald.86.Love or Money.ByK. Lee.87.Not All in Vain.ByA. Cambridge.88.It Happened Yesterday.ByF. Marshall.89.My Guardian.ByA. Cambridge.90.The Story of Philip Methuen.By Mrs.J. H. Needell.91.Amethyst.ByC. R. Coleridge.92.Don Braulio.ByJ. Valera. Translated byC. Bell.93.The Chronicles of Mr. Bill Williams.ByR. M. Johnston.94.A Queen of Curds and Cream.ByD. Gerard.95.“La Bella” and Others.ByE. Castle.96. “December Roses.” By Mrs.Campbell-Praed.97.Jean de Kerdren.ByJ. Schulte.98.Etelka’s Vow.ByD. Gerard.99.Cross Currents.ByM. A. Dickens.100.His Life’s Magnet.ByT. Elmolin.101.Passing the Love of Women.By Mrs.J. H. Needell.102.In Old St. Stephen’s.ByJ. Drake.103.The Berkeleys and their Neighbors.ByM. E. Seawell.104.Mona Maclean, Medical Student.ByG. Travers.105.Mrs. Bligh.ByR. Broughton.106.A Stumble on the Threshold.ByJ. Payn.107.Hanging Moss.ByP. Lindau.108.A Comedy of Elopement.ByC. Reid.109.In the Suntime of her Youth.ByB. Whitby.110.Stories in Black and White.ByT. Hardyand Others.110½.An Englishman in Paris.111.Commander Mendoza.ByJ. Valera.112.Dr. Paull’s Theory.By Mrs.A. M. Diehl.113.Children of Destiny.ByM. E. Seawell.114.A Little Minx.ByA. Cambridge.115.Capt’n Davy’s Honeymoon.ByH. Caine.116.The Voice of a Flower.ByE. Gerard.117.Singularly Deluded.ByS. Grand.118.Suspected.ByL. Stratenus.119.Lucia, Hugh, and Another.By Mrs.J. H. Needell.120.The Tutor’s Secret.ByV. Cherbuliez.121.From the Five Rivers.By Mrs.F. A. Steel.122.An Innocent Impostor, and Other Stories.ByM. Gray.123.Ideala.ByS. Grand.124.A Comedy of Masks.ByE. DowsonandA. Moore.125.Relics.ByF. MacNab.126.Dodo: A Detail of the Day.ByE. F. Benson.127.A Woman of Forty.ByE. Stuart.128.Diana Tempest.ByM. Cholmondeley.129.The Recipe for Diamonds.ByC. J. C. Hyne.130.Christina Chard.By Mrs.Campbell-Praed.131.A Gray Eye or So.ByF. F. Moore.132.Earlscourt.ByA. Allardyce.133.A Marriage Ceremony.ByA. Cambridge.134.A Ward in Chancery.By Mrs.Alexander.
1.The Steel Hammer.ByL. Ulbach.
2.Eve.ByS. Baring-Gould.
3.For Fifteen Years.ByL. Ulbach.
4.A Counsel of Perfection.ByL. Malet.
5.The Deemster.ByH. Caine.
5½.The Bondman.ByH. Caine.
6.A Virginia Inheritance.ByE. Pendleton.
7.Ninette.By the author of Véra.
8. “The Right Honourable.” ByJ. McCarthyand Mrs.Campbell-Praed.
9.The Silence of Dean Maitland.ByM. Gray.
10.Mrs. Lorimer.ByL. Malet.
11.The Elect Lady.ByG. MacDonald.
12.The Mystery of the “Ocean Star.”ByW. C. Russell.
13.Aristocracy.
14.A Recoiling Vengeance.ByF. Barrett.
15.The Secret of Fontaine-la-Croix.ByM. Field.
16.The Master of Rathkelly.ByH. Smart.
17.Donovan.ByE. Lyall.
18.This Mortal Coil.ByG. Allen.
19.A Fair Emigrant.ByR. Mulholland.
20.The Apostate.ByE. Daudet.
21.Raleigh Westgate.ByH. K. Johnson.
22.Arius the Libyan.
23.Constance, andCalbot’s Rival. ByJ. Hawthorne.
24.We Two.ByE. Lyall.
25.A Dreamer of Dreams.By the author of Thoth.
26.The Ladies’ Gallery.ByJ. McCarthyand Mrs.Campbell-Praed.
27.The Reproach of Annealey.ByM. Gray.
28.Near to Happiness.
29.In the Wire Grass.ByL. Pendleton.
30.Lace.ByP. Lindau.
30½.The Black Poodle.ByF. Anstey
31.American Coin.By the author of Aristocracy.
32.Won by Waiting.ByE. Lyall.
33.The Story of Helen Davenant.ByV. Fane.
34.The Light of Her Countenance.ByH. H. Boyesen.
35.Mistress Beatrice Cope.ByM. E. Le Clerc.
36.The Knight-Errant.ByE. Lyall.
37.In the Golden Days.ByE. Lyall.
38.Giraldi.ByR. G. Dering.
39.A Hardy Norseman.ByE. Lyall.
40.The Romance of Jenny Harlowe, andSketches of Maritime Life. ByW. C. Russell.
41.Passion’s Slave.ByR. Ashe-King.
42.The Awakening of Mary Fenwick.ByB. Whitby.
43.Countess Loreley.ByR. Menger.
44.Blind Love.ByW. Collins.
45.The Dean’s Daughter.ByS. F. F. Veitch.
46.Countess Irene.ByJ. Fogerty.
47.Robert Browning’s Principal Shorter Poems.
48.Frozen Hearts.ByG. W. Appleton.
49.Djambek the Georgian.ByA. G. von Suttner.
50.The Craze of Christian Engelhart.ByH. F. Darnell.
51.Lal.ByW. A. Hammond, M. D.
52.Aline.ByH. Gréville.
53.Joost Avelingh.ByM. Maartens.
54.Katy of Catoctin.ByG. A. Townsend.
55.Throckmorton.ByM. E. Shawell.
56.Expatriation.By the author of Aristocracy.
57.Geoffrey Hampstead.ByT. S. Jarvis.
58.Dmitri.ByF. W. Bain, M.A.
59.Part of the Property.ByB. Whitby.
60.Bismarck in Private Life.By a Fellow-Student.
61.In Low Relief.ByM. Roberts.
62.The Canadians of Old.ByP. Gaspé.
63.A Squire of Low Degree.ByL. A. Long.
64.A Fluttered Dovecote.ByG. M. Fenn.
65.The Nugents of Carriconna.ByT. Hopkins.
66.A Sensitive Plant.By E. and D.Gerard.
67.Doña Luz.ByJ. Valera. Translated by Mrs.M. J. Serrano.
68.Pepita Ximenez.ByJ. Valera. Translated by Mrs.M. J. Serrano.
69.The Primes and their Neighbors.ByR. M. Johnston.
70.The Iron Game.ByH. F. Keenan.
71.Stories of Old New Spain.ByT. A. Janvier.
72.The Maid of Honor.By Hon. L. Wingfield.
73.In the Heart of the Storm.ByM. Gray.
74.Consequences.ByE. Castle.
75.The Three Miss Kings.ByA. Cambridge.
76.A Matter of Skill.ByB. Whitby.
77.Maid Marian, and Other Stories.ByM. E. Seawell.
78.One Woman’s Way.ByE. Pendleton.
79.A Merciful Divorce.ByF. W. Maude.
80.Stephen Ellicott’s Daughter.By Mrs.J. H. Needell.
81.One Reason Why.ByB. Whitby.
82.The Tragedy of Ida Noble.ByW. C. Russell.
83.The Johnstown Stage, and Other Stories.ByR. H. Fletcher.
84.A Widower Indeed.ByR. BroughtonandE. Bisland.
85.The Flight of a Shadow.ByG. MacDonald.
86.Love or Money.ByK. Lee.
87.Not All in Vain.ByA. Cambridge.
88.It Happened Yesterday.ByF. Marshall.
89.My Guardian.ByA. Cambridge.
90.The Story of Philip Methuen.By Mrs.J. H. Needell.
91.Amethyst.ByC. R. Coleridge.
92.Don Braulio.ByJ. Valera. Translated byC. Bell.
93.The Chronicles of Mr. Bill Williams.ByR. M. Johnston.
94.A Queen of Curds and Cream.ByD. Gerard.
95.“La Bella” and Others.ByE. Castle.
96. “December Roses.” By Mrs.Campbell-Praed.
97.Jean de Kerdren.ByJ. Schulte.
98.Etelka’s Vow.ByD. Gerard.
99.Cross Currents.ByM. A. Dickens.
100.His Life’s Magnet.ByT. Elmolin.
101.Passing the Love of Women.By Mrs.J. H. Needell.
102.In Old St. Stephen’s.ByJ. Drake.
103.The Berkeleys and their Neighbors.ByM. E. Seawell.
104.Mona Maclean, Medical Student.ByG. Travers.
105.Mrs. Bligh.ByR. Broughton.
106.A Stumble on the Threshold.ByJ. Payn.
107.Hanging Moss.ByP. Lindau.
108.A Comedy of Elopement.ByC. Reid.
109.In the Suntime of her Youth.ByB. Whitby.
110.Stories in Black and White.ByT. Hardyand Others.
110½.An Englishman in Paris.
111.Commander Mendoza.ByJ. Valera.
112.Dr. Paull’s Theory.By Mrs.A. M. Diehl.
113.Children of Destiny.ByM. E. Seawell.
114.A Little Minx.ByA. Cambridge.
115.Capt’n Davy’s Honeymoon.ByH. Caine.
116.The Voice of a Flower.ByE. Gerard.
117.Singularly Deluded.ByS. Grand.
118.Suspected.ByL. Stratenus.
119.Lucia, Hugh, and Another.By Mrs.J. H. Needell.
120.The Tutor’s Secret.ByV. Cherbuliez.
121.From the Five Rivers.By Mrs.F. A. Steel.
122.An Innocent Impostor, and Other Stories.ByM. Gray.
123.Ideala.ByS. Grand.
124.A Comedy of Masks.ByE. DowsonandA. Moore.
125.Relics.ByF. MacNab.
126.Dodo: A Detail of the Day.ByE. F. Benson.
127.A Woman of Forty.ByE. Stuart.
128.Diana Tempest.ByM. Cholmondeley.
129.The Recipe for Diamonds.ByC. J. C. Hyne.
130.Christina Chard.By Mrs.Campbell-Praed.
131.A Gray Eye or So.ByF. F. Moore.
132.Earlscourt.ByA. Allardyce.
133.A Marriage Ceremony.ByA. Cambridge.
134.A Ward in Chancery.By Mrs.Alexander.
135.Lot 13.ByD. Gerard.136.Our Manifold Nature.ByS. Grand.137.A Costly Freak.ByM. Gray.138.A Beginner.ByR. Broughton.139.A Yellow Aster.By Mrs.M. Caffyn(“Iota”).140.The Rubicon.ByE. F. Benson.141.The Trespasser.ByG. Parker.142.The Rich Miss Riddell.ByD. Gerard.143.Mary Fenwick’s Daughter.ByB. Whitby.144.Red Diamonds.ByJ. McCarthy.145.A Daughter of Music.ByG. Colmore.146.Outlaw and Lawmaker.By Mrs.Campbell-Praed.147.Dr. Janet of Harley Street.ByA. Kenealy.148.George Mandeville’s Husband.ByC. E. Raimond.149.Vashti and Esther.150.Timar’s Two Worlds.ByM. Jokai.151.A Victim of Good Luck.ByW. E. Norris.152.The Trail of the Sword.ByG. Parker.153.A Mild Barbarian.ByE. Fawcett.154.The God in the Car.ByA. Hope.155.Children of Circumstance. By Mrs.M. Caffyn.156.At the Gate of Samaria.ByW. J. Locke.157.The Justification of Andrew Lebrun.ByF. Barrett.158.Dust and Laurels.ByM. L. Pendered.159.The Good Ship Mohock.ByW. C. Russell.160.Noemi.ByS. Baring-Gould.161.The Honour of Savelli.ByS. L. Yeats.162.Kitty’s Engagement.ByF. Warden.163.The Mermaid.ByL. Dougall.164.An Arranged Marriage.ByD. Gerard.165.Eve’s Ransom.ByG. Gissing.166.The Marriage of Esther.ByG. Boothby.167.Fidelis.ByA. Cambridge.168.Into the Highways and Hedges.ByF. F. Montrésor.169.The Vengeance of James Vansittart.By Mrs.J. H. Needell.170.A Study in Prejudices.ByG. Paston.171.The Mistress of Quest.ByA. Sergeant.172.In the Year of Jubilee.ByG. Gissing.173.In Old New England.ByH. Butterworth.174.Mrs. Musgrave—and Her Husband.ByR. Marsh.175.Not Counting the Cost.ByTasma.176.Out of Due Season.ByA. Sergeant.177.Scylla or Charybdis?ByR. Broughton.178.In Defiance of the King.ByC. C. Hotchkiss.179.A Bid for Fortune.ByG. Boothby.180.The King of Andaman.ByJ. M. Cobban.181.Mrs. Tregaskiss.By Mrs.Campbell-Praed.182.The Desire of the Moth.ByC. Vane.183.A Self-Denying Ordinance.ByM. Hamilton.184.Successors to the Title.By Mrs.L. B. Walford.185.The Lost Stradivarius.ByJ. M. Falkner.186.The Wrong Man.ByD. Gerard.187.In the Day of Adversity.ByJ. Bloundelle-Burton.188.Mistress Dorothy Marvin.ByJ. C. Snaith.189.A Flash of Summer.By Mrs.W. K. Clifford.190.The Dancer in Yellow.ByW. R. Norris.191.The Chronicles of Martin Hewitt.ByA. Morrison.192.A Winning Hazard.By Mrs.Alexander.193.The Picture of Las Cruces.ByC. Reid.194.The Madonna of a Day.ByL. Dougall.195.The Riddle Ring.ByJ. McCarthy.196.A Humble Enterprise.ByA. Cambridge.197.Dr. Nikola.ByG. Boothby.198.An Outcast of the Islands.ByJ. Conrad.199.The King’s Revenge.ByC. Bray.200.Denounced.ByJ. Bloundelle-Burton.201.A Court Intrigue.ByB. Thompson.202.The Idol-Maker.ByA. Sergeant.203.The Intriguers.ByJ. D. Barry.204.Master Ardick, Buccaneer.ByF. H. Costello.205.With Fortune Made.ByV. Cherbuliez.206.Fellow Travellers.ByG. Travers.207.McLeod of the Camerons.ByM. Hamilton.208.The Career of Candida.ByG. Paston.209.Arrested.ByE. Stuart.210.Tatterley.ByT. Gallon.211.A Pinchbeck Goddess.By Mrs.J. M. Fleming(A. M. Kipling).212.Perfection City.By Mrs.Orpen.213.A Spotless Reputation.ByD. Gerard.214.A Galahad of the Creeks.ByS. L. Yeats.215.The Beautiful White Devil.ByG. Boothby.216.The Sun of Saratoga.ByJ. A. Altsheler.217.Fierceheart, the Soldier.ByJ. C. Snaith.218.Marietta’s Marriage.ByW. E. Norris.219.Dear Faustina.ByR. Broughton.220.Nùlma.By Mrs.Campbell-Praed.221.The Folly of Pen Harrington.ByJ. Sturgis.222.A Colonial Free-Lance.ByC. C. Hotchkiss.223.His Majesty’s Greatest Subject.ByS. S. Thorburn.224.Mifanwy: A Welsh Singer.ByA. Raine.225.A Soldier of Manhattan.ByJ. A. Altsheler.226.Fortune’s Footballs.ByG. B. Burgin.227.The Clash of Arms.ByJ. Bloundelle-Burton.228.God’s Foundling.ByA. J. Dawson.229.Miss Providence.ByD. Gerard.230.The Freedom of Henry Meredyth.ByM. Hamilton.231.Sweethearts and Friends.ByM. Gray.232.Sunset.ByB. Whitby.233.A Fiery Ordeal.ByTasma.234.A Prince of Mischance.ByT. Gallon.235.A Passionate Pilgrim.ByP. White.236.This Little World.ByD. C. Murray.237.A Forgotten Sin.ByD. Gerard.238.The Incidental Bishop.ByG. Allen.239.The Lake of Wine.ByB. Capes.240.A Trooper of the Empress.ByC. Ross.241.Torn Sails.ByA. Raine.242.Materfamilias.ByA. Cambridge.243.John of Strathbourne.ByR. D. Chetwode.244.The Millionaires.ByF. F. Moore.245.The Looms of Time.By Mrs.H. Fraser.246.The Queen’s Cup.ByG. A. Henty.247.Dicky Monteith.ByT. Gallon.248.The Lust of Hate.ByG. Boothby.249.The Gospel Writ in Steel.ByArthur Paterson.250.The Widower.ByW. E. Norris.251.The Scourge of God.ByJ. Bloundelle-Burton.252.Concerning Isabel Carnaby.ByEllen Thorneycroft Fowler.253.The Impediment.ByDorothea Gerard.254.Belinda—and Some Others.ByEthel Maude.255.The Key of the Holy House.ByAlbert Lee.256.A Writer of Books.ByGeorge Paston.257.The Knight of the Golden Chain.ByR. D. Chetwode.258.Ricroft of Withens.ByHalliwell Sutcliffe.259.The Procession of Life.ByHorace A. Vachell.260.By Berwen Banks.ByAllen Raine.261.Pharos, the Egyptian.ByGuy Boothby.262.Paul Carah, Cornishman.ByCharles Lee.263.Pursued by the Law.ByJ. Maclaren Cobban.264.Madame Izàn.By Mrs.Campbell-Praed.265.Fortune’s my Foe.ByJ. Bloundelle-Burton.266.A Cosmopolitan Comedy.ByAnna Robeson Brown.267.The Kingdom of Hate.ByT. Gallon.268.The Game and the Candle.ByRhoda Broughton.269.Dr. Nikola’s Experiment.ByGuy Boothby.270.The Strange Story of Hester Wynne.ByG. Colmore.271.Lady Barbarity.ByJ. C. Snaith.272.A Bitter Heritage.ByJohn Bloundelle-Burton.273.The Heiress of the Season.By SirWilliam Magnay, Bart.
135.Lot 13.ByD. Gerard.
136.Our Manifold Nature.ByS. Grand.
137.A Costly Freak.ByM. Gray.
138.A Beginner.ByR. Broughton.
139.A Yellow Aster.By Mrs.M. Caffyn(“Iota”).
140.The Rubicon.ByE. F. Benson.
141.The Trespasser.ByG. Parker.
142.The Rich Miss Riddell.ByD. Gerard.
143.Mary Fenwick’s Daughter.ByB. Whitby.
144.Red Diamonds.ByJ. McCarthy.
145.A Daughter of Music.ByG. Colmore.
146.Outlaw and Lawmaker.By Mrs.Campbell-Praed.
147.Dr. Janet of Harley Street.ByA. Kenealy.
148.George Mandeville’s Husband.ByC. E. Raimond.
149.Vashti and Esther.
150.Timar’s Two Worlds.ByM. Jokai.
151.A Victim of Good Luck.ByW. E. Norris.
152.The Trail of the Sword.ByG. Parker.
153.A Mild Barbarian.ByE. Fawcett.
154.The God in the Car.ByA. Hope.
155.Children of Circumstance. By Mrs.M. Caffyn.
156.At the Gate of Samaria.ByW. J. Locke.
157.The Justification of Andrew Lebrun.ByF. Barrett.
158.Dust and Laurels.ByM. L. Pendered.
159.The Good Ship Mohock.ByW. C. Russell.
160.Noemi.ByS. Baring-Gould.
161.The Honour of Savelli.ByS. L. Yeats.
162.Kitty’s Engagement.ByF. Warden.
163.The Mermaid.ByL. Dougall.
164.An Arranged Marriage.ByD. Gerard.
165.Eve’s Ransom.ByG. Gissing.
166.The Marriage of Esther.ByG. Boothby.
167.Fidelis.ByA. Cambridge.
168.Into the Highways and Hedges.ByF. F. Montrésor.
169.The Vengeance of James Vansittart.By Mrs.J. H. Needell.
170.A Study in Prejudices.ByG. Paston.
171.The Mistress of Quest.ByA. Sergeant.
172.In the Year of Jubilee.ByG. Gissing.
173.In Old New England.ByH. Butterworth.
174.Mrs. Musgrave—and Her Husband.ByR. Marsh.
175.Not Counting the Cost.ByTasma.
176.Out of Due Season.ByA. Sergeant.
177.Scylla or Charybdis?ByR. Broughton.
178.In Defiance of the King.ByC. C. Hotchkiss.
179.A Bid for Fortune.ByG. Boothby.
180.The King of Andaman.ByJ. M. Cobban.
181.Mrs. Tregaskiss.By Mrs.Campbell-Praed.
182.The Desire of the Moth.ByC. Vane.
183.A Self-Denying Ordinance.ByM. Hamilton.
184.Successors to the Title.By Mrs.L. B. Walford.
185.The Lost Stradivarius.ByJ. M. Falkner.
186.The Wrong Man.ByD. Gerard.
187.In the Day of Adversity.ByJ. Bloundelle-Burton.
188.Mistress Dorothy Marvin.ByJ. C. Snaith.
189.A Flash of Summer.By Mrs.W. K. Clifford.
190.The Dancer in Yellow.ByW. R. Norris.
191.The Chronicles of Martin Hewitt.ByA. Morrison.
192.A Winning Hazard.By Mrs.Alexander.
193.The Picture of Las Cruces.ByC. Reid.
194.The Madonna of a Day.ByL. Dougall.
195.The Riddle Ring.ByJ. McCarthy.
196.A Humble Enterprise.ByA. Cambridge.
197.Dr. Nikola.ByG. Boothby.
198.An Outcast of the Islands.ByJ. Conrad.
199.The King’s Revenge.ByC. Bray.
200.Denounced.ByJ. Bloundelle-Burton.
201.A Court Intrigue.ByB. Thompson.
202.The Idol-Maker.ByA. Sergeant.
203.The Intriguers.ByJ. D. Barry.
204.Master Ardick, Buccaneer.ByF. H. Costello.
205.With Fortune Made.ByV. Cherbuliez.
206.Fellow Travellers.ByG. Travers.
207.McLeod of the Camerons.ByM. Hamilton.
208.The Career of Candida.ByG. Paston.
209.Arrested.ByE. Stuart.
210.Tatterley.ByT. Gallon.
211.A Pinchbeck Goddess.By Mrs.J. M. Fleming(A. M. Kipling).
212.Perfection City.By Mrs.Orpen.
213.A Spotless Reputation.ByD. Gerard.
214.A Galahad of the Creeks.ByS. L. Yeats.
215.The Beautiful White Devil.ByG. Boothby.
216.The Sun of Saratoga.ByJ. A. Altsheler.
217.Fierceheart, the Soldier.ByJ. C. Snaith.
218.Marietta’s Marriage.ByW. E. Norris.
219.Dear Faustina.ByR. Broughton.
220.Nùlma.By Mrs.Campbell-Praed.
221.The Folly of Pen Harrington.ByJ. Sturgis.
222.A Colonial Free-Lance.ByC. C. Hotchkiss.
223.His Majesty’s Greatest Subject.ByS. S. Thorburn.
224.Mifanwy: A Welsh Singer.ByA. Raine.
225.A Soldier of Manhattan.ByJ. A. Altsheler.
226.Fortune’s Footballs.ByG. B. Burgin.
227.The Clash of Arms.ByJ. Bloundelle-Burton.
228.God’s Foundling.ByA. J. Dawson.
229.Miss Providence.ByD. Gerard.
230.The Freedom of Henry Meredyth.ByM. Hamilton.
231.Sweethearts and Friends.ByM. Gray.
232.Sunset.ByB. Whitby.
233.A Fiery Ordeal.ByTasma.
234.A Prince of Mischance.ByT. Gallon.
235.A Passionate Pilgrim.ByP. White.
236.This Little World.ByD. C. Murray.
237.A Forgotten Sin.ByD. Gerard.
238.The Incidental Bishop.ByG. Allen.
239.The Lake of Wine.ByB. Capes.
240.A Trooper of the Empress.ByC. Ross.
241.Torn Sails.ByA. Raine.
242.Materfamilias.ByA. Cambridge.
243.John of Strathbourne.ByR. D. Chetwode.
244.The Millionaires.ByF. F. Moore.
245.The Looms of Time.By Mrs.H. Fraser.
246.The Queen’s Cup.ByG. A. Henty.
247.Dicky Monteith.ByT. Gallon.
248.The Lust of Hate.ByG. Boothby.
249.The Gospel Writ in Steel.ByArthur Paterson.
250.The Widower.ByW. E. Norris.
251.The Scourge of God.ByJ. Bloundelle-Burton.
252.Concerning Isabel Carnaby.ByEllen Thorneycroft Fowler.
253.The Impediment.ByDorothea Gerard.
254.Belinda—and Some Others.ByEthel Maude.
255.The Key of the Holy House.ByAlbert Lee.
256.A Writer of Books.ByGeorge Paston.
257.The Knight of the Golden Chain.ByR. D. Chetwode.
258.Ricroft of Withens.ByHalliwell Sutcliffe.
259.The Procession of Life.ByHorace A. Vachell.
260.By Berwen Banks.ByAllen Raine.
261.Pharos, the Egyptian.ByGuy Boothby.
262.Paul Carah, Cornishman.ByCharles Lee.
263.Pursued by the Law.ByJ. Maclaren Cobban.
264.Madame Izàn.By Mrs.Campbell-Praed.
265.Fortune’s my Foe.ByJ. Bloundelle-Burton.
266.A Cosmopolitan Comedy.ByAnna Robeson Brown.
267.The Kingdom of Hate.ByT. Gallon.
268.The Game and the Candle.ByRhoda Broughton.
269.Dr. Nikola’s Experiment.ByGuy Boothby.
270.The Strange Story of Hester Wynne.ByG. Colmore.
271.Lady Barbarity.ByJ. C. Snaith.
272.A Bitter Heritage.ByJohn Bloundelle-Burton.
273.The Heiress of the Season.By SirWilliam Magnay, Bart.
“In their ‘Town and Country Library,’ as it is known familiarly, the Messrs. Appleton have been remarkably successful both in preserving a good standard and in the matter of popularity. Presumably this is one of the very few efforts of the kind which have been successful for more than a few months. And we think the secret of continued success lies in the discrimination used in selecting tales that are clean, pure, and withal of interest to the average reader’s intelligence; and, furthermore, to the fact that the editors have been using American stories more and more frequently.”—New York Mail and Express.“The percentage of excellence maintained throughout has been extraordinary. It is probably within bounds to say that no other list of legitimate fiction can show so many names of the first rank as judged by popularity. From time to time in this manner new and powerful pens are introduced.”—Rochester Herald.
“In their ‘Town and Country Library,’ as it is known familiarly, the Messrs. Appleton have been remarkably successful both in preserving a good standard and in the matter of popularity. Presumably this is one of the very few efforts of the kind which have been successful for more than a few months. And we think the secret of continued success lies in the discrimination used in selecting tales that are clean, pure, and withal of interest to the average reader’s intelligence; and, furthermore, to the fact that the editors have been using American stories more and more frequently.”—New York Mail and Express.
“The percentage of excellence maintained throughout has been extraordinary. It is probably within bounds to say that no other list of legitimate fiction can show so many names of the first rank as judged by popularity. From time to time in this manner new and powerful pens are introduced.”—Rochester Herald.
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.