Beneath Your Very Boots

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C.J. CUTCLIFFE HYNE

BENEATH YOUR VERY BOOTS

First published by Digby & Long, London, 1889
This e-book edition: Roy Glashan's Library, 2025
Version Date: 2025-09-11

Produced by Matthias Kaether and Roy Glashan

All original content added by RGL is protected by copyright.

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"Beneath Your Very Boots" is a fascinating example of late 19th-century British speculative fiction. The story unfolds in a hidden subterranean world beneath England, where a group of refugees has established a secret, technologically advanced society. This underground utopia is shielded from the chaos and corruption of the surface world. Hyne explores ideas of social retreat, technological superiority, and utopian ideals, contrasting them with the flaws of surface civilization.

Chapter I. Dead Low-Water
Chapter II. The British Waiter
Chapter III. Autobiographical Sketch
Chapter IV. Cambridge
Chapter V. On the Down Grade
Chapter VI. On an Office Stool
Chapter VII. A Legacy
Chapter VIII. My Uncle's Letter
Chapter IX. Reconnoitering
Chapter X. On the Road
Chapter XI. Retrospective and Speculative
Chapter XII. Conversational and Historical
Chapter XIII. The Temple
Chapter XIV. Mona
Chapter XV. An Excursion
Chapter XVI. Diamonds
Chapter XVII. A Temple of Thespis
Chapter XVIII. Obsequies
Chapter XIX. On Parole
Chapter XX. A Scrap of Sky
Chapter XXI. A Broil
Chapter XXII. A la Mort
Chapter XXIII. The All-Absorbing Question
Chapter XXIV. Invention
Chapter XXV. An Execution
Chapter XXVI. The Kamfri
Chapter XXVII. My Marriage
Chapter XXVIII. The Penalty for Peeping
Chapter XXIX. En Famille with a God
Chapter XXX. How to Quell a Rebellion
Chapter XXXI. The Cuticle of a Tooth
Chapter XXXII. A Crucial Question
Chapter XXXIII. "Aut vincere aut mori"
Chapter XXXIV. In Conclusion
And One Word More

CHAPTER I.
Dead Low-Water.

AMERICANS describe a certain phase of existence, when impecuniosity reigns supreme, and the fickle goddess of Fortune, inconstant ever, turns a deaf ear to the agonised supplications of her devotee, as being "down on one's luck."

This was my motto on the eve of Christmas Day in the year one thousand eight hundred and eighty-six.

"Christmas comes but once a year," cried a ragged urchin to a better-dressed passer-by; and "Thank Heaven for that," soliloquised I, adding as a rider, "if they be as cold and dreary as this one."

I was not used to it. Like many a cab-horse who wearily plods along between the shafts of musty four-wheeler, I had seen better days. There had been a time, not long distant either, when, instead of scanning unenticing advertisements in cheap cook-shops (where joints and pies are dissected in the window, for the delectation of a may-be hungry public without), which set forth that a substantial and succulent meal could be obtained within for the paltry sum of eightpence, and that a smaller disbursement of specie would entitle one to less nutritious condiments—soup, one penny; meat (ambiguous that) pies, twopence; sausage and potatoes, three-halfpence—there was a time when, instead of glaring wolfishly at these baits for the hungry, I was in a position to pass querulous comments on the greatest delicacy—a time when I had every right to be an epicure, when I raised that unknown quantity, "the devil," if the truffles in the pâté de foie gras were English and not Périgord; when I could not enjoy a dinner unless it were served in irreproachable fashion at 7 p.m., and initiated with anchovy canapés—a time when, in short, I never denied myself any luxury fancy could dictate, or wealth procure.

On the Christmas Eve in question I go back to No. 10, Murgatroyd Court, Robinson Street, Chimney Lane; situated in Wideford, a Yorkshire manufacturing town of the darkest dye; make the painful ascent of several rounds of rotten and rickety stairs to a dingy attic, which serves alike as dining-room, drawing-room, library, bedroom, dressing-room, and endeavour to stir the fire into animation with my boot. The attempt is futile. The fire, like its stirrer, suffers from lack of fuel, and the result reminds me pretty broadly that, unless this be supplied, and that right soon, the flickering flames of both will quickly be out.

Header, have you ever been really hungry? "Yes," you unhesitatingly say, and call to mind the fearful tortures you suffered when, out shooting one day, no luncheon appeared; and, as an afterthought, you remember the abnormal dinner you consumed in the evening, enough to make some one remark that you ate as if there were no hereafter. But that is not hunger, my friend; you are labouring under a delusion. It was merely creating a healthy appetite. No; to be hungry, one must fast for two whole days. Don't let me persuade you to try it; I did, and can vouch that the symptoms are extremely painful. There is a feeling of "goneness" about the pit of the stomach, that is far easier to realise than to describe; and for it I know but two remedies. They are (a) shuffling off this mortal coil, or (b) obtaining nutrition. Failing (b), one is fain to think of (a).

You, reader, if you be a true Briton, will at once turn round and say, Why did I not put my shoulder to the wheel and work? Possibly, too, you will quote some trite proverb to the effect that "there is always work for those who will do it."

I am "down"—it is, therefore, your prerogative to kick. But listen first, or, as a much greater man than you or I, said, "Strike, but hear!"

Journalism first. A varied and, I may say, vast experience of men and things, both in this country and in almost every other on the globe, had put me in possession of abundance of facts; still, the language necessary to enshroud them in a form palatable to King Demos was lacking—and I failed. The Weekly Plagiarist, that robber's journal, returned my articles marked "Unoriginal," whilst some more high-standing magazines did not send them back at all, nathless "stamps enclosed." With the newspaper press there was no better result; for on sending a contribution to the Conservative paper, that organ of an effete aristocracy returned it, I verily believe, unread. In disgust I sent it afterwards to the Radical print, but by that mouthpiece of anarchy and rebellion it was consigned to the comparative oblivion of the waste-paper basket. Then by answering an advertisement, I obtained a situation as schoolmaster, and had the satisfaction of seeing myself announced in print as "a member of Cambridge University." The salary was not heavy—£29 per annum, with board and lodging; and my employer said that even this was excessive, considering my want of "degree" and lack of experience: the duties, however, were enormous.

The schoolhouse was populated by the headmaster, his wife, two slatternly maid-servants, myself, and some five-and-forty boarders. These last were the sons of small tradesfolk, and for the trifling remuneration of thirty-five pounds (or guineas, I think it was) a-year were to receive what was termed a "sound commercial education." "Preceptors' Hall Academy" looked well in the prospectus, and the advantages therein set forth were numerous.

The principal part of the many arduous duties connected with this establishment fell to my share. I had to rise early in the morning, see that the pupils cleansed themselves of a fair portion of the accumulated filth of the preceding day, and then marshal them down to a breakfast of thick bread and butter(ine) and hot transparent tea. During the meal fights were prevalent: these I suppressed. At its conclusion I instructed orally or otherwise till one o'clock, when we dined. As an aid to the digestion of this meal—it was the quality, not the quantity, which demanded it—a walk was decided on when the weather permitted. This, thank Heaven, it seldom did.

It was a solemn procession, that walk, two and two, two and two, with myself and the goody-goody boy of the batch—whom I loathed—bringing up the rear. During its progress, it was impressed on me that I must suppress any inclinations of the urchins under my charge to associate with children more dirty than themselves, who played in the gutter—and were happy. At its conclusion, a time which pupils and pedagogue hailed with equal delight, there were lessons, tea, lessons, bed; and then I was at liberty.

No galley-slave at Algiers ever worked harder; no Louisiana nigger ever fared worse; but still, after it was over I was at liberty to please ray-self. Dead-tired, three-parts starved, wholly sickened, fit for nothing but bed; but still—at liberty. Faugh! I hate the very word now.

Still, it was a livelihood; so I endured it. There was no better to be got. The headmaster was drunk most of his time, and drinking to get so the rest; so I had no assistance from him. Yet it was he who gave me my congé. He came in one night, rather more tipsy than usual, and finding me asleep on a chair, kicked me into wakefulness, and cursed me for a lazy, idle rascal.

Now, human endurance has its limits. I had slaved for the brute, doing his work as well as my own, and then to be kicked and called idle I It was too much.

Next morning, mutual recriminations followed (before an admiring crowd of urchins, who were all anxious that their "Squeers" should get another black eye to match the one he already possessed). They ended in me and my scanty wardrobe finding ourselves once more adrift, with nothing in the treasury. After that, I sung comic songs to my own banjo accompaniment at a public-house which had a music licence, but failing to elicit that knocking of pewter pots upon the table by which the habitués were wont to mark their approval, and getting in place of it much unvarnished approbrium in the plainest of broad Yorkshire, even that source of income was denied me.

Thus I found myself on that bitter Christmas Eve, starving in a Wideford slum, without a copper, with nothing left to pawn.

I was ruminating over the past, and thinking of the mutability of human affairs, when a heavy step on the rickety stairs woke me up again to the grim realities of the present. It was my landlady. Well did I know her tread, though a fortnight ago Ave were strangers. Not deigning to knock, she marches in and glares at me with her arms—great brawny members—akimbo. She is not an ideal landlady by any means. She is not polite—she is far too Yorkshire for that. She does not steal—perhaps because I have nothing to take. Moreover, she is dirty—everyone up our court is—and much addicted to strong language. Without beating about the bush at all, she opens the conversation.

"Well, then, tha maun goa. Ah'm noan bahn t' ev a fooil 'ere es addles note, so ah'm tellin' tha."*

* Well, then, you must go. I am not going to have a lazy-bones here who earns nothing, so I'm telling you.

"Ay, but thar is. Nah, sit thee dahn theer, and tell ma. Ar ta badly?* Tha sood goa t' t' infermry; t' hed gi' the' soomut theer."

"Why, t' lad's fair pined* t't' de-ath." Shouting down the stairs, "Seusan M'ria! Seusan M'ri—a!"

The refreshment came, and the warm-hearted Yorkshire woman pressed it on me with lavish hospitality; not that I required much persuasion. The last crumb of the tea-cake soon disappeared, and with it the last drop of molasses, and I swear I never enjoyed a meal more in my life. She cut short my protestations and gratitude with a peremptory "'Od thee noise," and then opened out on the situation.

"Doan't beg my pardin; thast dun note wrong. Say 'What?' if tha wants to knaw ote. Ah me-an, can ta serve at ta-able?"

"Tha me-ans tha couldn't feshion;* tha'd be fair 'shamed.† Na, looke 'ere, yoong-feller-mi-lad. Ah'm noan bahn t' ev thee i' my 'ouse if tha addles note, so ah'm tellin1 tha."‡

So it was finally settled by my landlady that I was to make my début as a waiter on the morrow, Christmas Day, at the house of a wealthy manufacturer, who was, I presume, going to entertain his friends and family.

CHAPTER II.
The British Waiter.

"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man, in his time, plays many parts."

DO not suppose for a moment that the appointment in question was in Mrs. Garth's—my landlady's—gift. She had once, in her younger days, been "general" servant at the private residence of a pastrycook, and thus knew that at certain seasons extra waiters were in demand. .Neither did she deem it politic to become my sponsor personally. It was her husband to whom I was entrusted for an introduction to this new sphere of usefulness.

We went together and fetched him from a neighbouring public-house, where he was imbibing half-and-half—an insidious beverage—in company with others of the great unscrubbed, and discussing in stentorian tones the current topics of the day. Politics seemed Mr. Garth's favourite theme, and, to judge from his remarks, he had a penchant towards Socialism and Mr. Henry George. He eulogised the equal distribution of property in no measured terms. Perhaps he considered this a means of leading up to the Ultima Thule of his earthly existence—membership among the licensed victuallers.

Be this as it may, his better half, who had listened to his oratorical efforts for a moment or two with mingled feelings of pride and admiration, grew tired, and made known our presence by a sharp cry of "Willeeam!" Evidently Mrs. G. was accustomed to be obeyed—she looked like a woman who could hold her own—for "Willeeam" flung back a "Coomin', missis!" and followed his words with an alacrity that seemed to amuse his audience. Mrs. Garth put a damper on their unseemly mirth by ejaculating "Breutes!" and we all three adjourned to No. 10, Murgatroyd Court.

Mrs. G., and was warned that if he was unsuccessful in the negotiation, it would be the worse for him.

Accordingly, he and I sallied forth again, threading our way through countless streets and alleys that seemed to be put up here and there at the mere caprice of their builders, without the least attempt at uniformity, and finally emerged into a more prosperous-looking part of the town, in which the élite of Wideford took their daily airing. Pressing on through the throng of sightseers and others—some purchasing Christmas fare and presents, the remainder looking at them, and the brilliantly illuminated shops—we made our way to a large pastrycook's, through which Garth, knowing the lay of the land, led to a glass office at the back. He boldly introduced me as a professional waiter, and that article being in demand, I got a job for the very next day, as I have said before.

Thoughtful Mr. Garth had not forgotten it, and, armed with an order from my new employer, we pushed on again to an emporium where such things are kept for sale and hire. The practised eye of the proprietor of this latter establishment ran rapidly over my person, and I was handed a bundle which he signified would contain every requisite.

Business over, Mr. Garth favoured me with an invitation to supper, which, as the good effects of the "tea-cake and treacle" had nearly passed away, I gratefully accepted. The meal itself, consisting as it did of a homely substance yclept "tripe," garnished with the succulent onion of commerce, all being huddled together in a deep dish, from which each helped him or herself with a knife—forks were unknown in the house of Garth—the meal, I say, seemed to me fit for the gods. But the table, innocent of cloth, unless a coating of grime from the impress of thousands of paws formed one—well, that was capable of improvement. It was a small deal structure, the table, whose circular top, supported on three straddling legs, was certainly not more than two feet in diameter. With the usual family circle it sufficed. Mrs. Garth occupied one-half of the circumference, G. two-thirds of the remainder, and Susan Maria the balance. But I was just one too many for its capacities, and therefore I placed my plate on my knees, averring, God forgive me, in answer to my hostess's remonstrances, that I always preferred to eat so!

But to return to our muttons. When the Town Hall clock struck four on the afternoon of Christmas Day I deemed it time to adorn myself, and accordingly climbed to my attic, accompanied by Garth, who had already swilled himself into a state of magnanimous benevolence. The bundle which the purveyor of uniforms had provided, contained several articles to which I was a total stranger, chief among which was an oblong piece of stiff white calico, fastened on to a linen collar, and garnished with three huge brass studs down the middle, which rather reminded one of those ornaments which decorate the corner-man at Messrs. Moore and Burgess's. This, Mr. Garth said, was a "dickey," and was intended for gentlemen who cultivated economy at the laundry at the expense of personal cleanliness. The trousers had seen better days, and were long enough to form a graceful festoon over each foot, which was enveloped in what my valet was pleased to term a "low-necked" shoe. The waistcoat boasted of a very small opening in the centre, which was a pity, as the superabundance of cloth had betaken to itself more than a superabundance of grease. But the coat! that was the finest part of the get-up. Originally manufactured, as the first attempt, of some village tailor, for a not-over-particular clodhopper with narrow shoulders and long arms, it fitted me just as badly as a garment possibly could, without actual disunion. Across the back it was stretched to bursting, in front it hung quite loosely, whilst the sleeves touched my finger-ends, and the tails tried at my heels. It was an ideal dress-coat, and after fastening round my neck a tie which completed the resemblance to the Ethiopian aforesaid, I admired the tout ensemble in a small section of looking-glass brought from below for the purpose. It was a comic caricature, a hideous travesty; but, keenly alive to ridicule though I was, it would never do to shirk my duties. So, shrouded in an overcoat of Mr. Garth's—a rakish garment of Newmarket cut, fitting accessory to the rest of the costume—I sallied forth to Byroyd House, my employer's residence.

I had nearly made entrance via the front door; but remembered, just in the nick of time, that in my present position the back would be more appropriate.

"You're late," was the encouraging greeting accorded to me by the mistress of the house, who was in the kitchen superintending the culinary operations, and occasionally assisting with her own hands. By the way, she appeared far more at home stirring the soup in a saucepan over the fire, than as I saw her afterwards, seated at the end of the table and ladling it out of a tureen.

The table had evidently been laid according to their own lights, which were none of the most brilliant, and I set to work to improve on it to the best of my ability. It was pretty easy except for the napkins, and the more I tried to fold them into shapes I could call to mind, the more obstinately they resisted. Talk of servants

if you like, but never scoff till you have personally encountered the difficulties that present themselves.

Next I announced the guests as they arrived, and duly ushered them into the drawing-room; and then, with the assistance of a stumpy, red-cheeked damsel, waited on them during their meal. The experience was a novel one, and by no means as unpleasant as one would expect. There is an old saying that onlookers see most of the game, and I think that it must have been applied in the first instance to waiters. You see all, hear all, and without being troubled to carry on a conversation that flags perhaps, you are in a position to pass your own criticisms on all or any of the company assembled.

At the head of the table sat the master of the house, a bluff, hearty Yorkshireman, who despised the conventionalities of society with all the contempt of one who had made his money by unaided exertion, and was by no means ashamed of having done so. He certainly had one or two little peculiarities—he tucked his napkin under his chin, he made constant dives with the cutlery in the direction of his mouth, and gave his fork a very easy time of it; but on the whole there was something simple and unaffected about the man that one could not help liking, in spite of his intense vulgarity.

Now, with Mrs. Roone, his worthy spouse, it was different. Extracted from the same class as her husband, she would have been far less objectionable had she allowed her inclinations to follow their regular bent. As it was, she was grandness personified. At some well-meant witticism of Mr. Roone's about large spreads like the present being decidedly uncommon in their homely household, she burst into a very ecstasy of rage that made some of her guests crimson with suppressed laughter, and the remainder, her own progeny, pale with suppressed rage. The sons, too, were uninviting. They inherited from their mother the faculty for talking "big," and their statements were frequently misleading. For instance, "When I was at college," "So-and-so who was with me at college," "When I rowed in the college boat," are expressions which would hint to some that the speaker had resided at one or other of the Universities. However, I discovered that the college was merely a private school, whose grandiloquent title was doubtless its chiefest attraction. I remember wondering at the time whether it was anything like Preceptors' Hall Academy.

But there was one person seated at that festive board whom I regarded with a feeling very akin to dismay. It was no other than an old Cambridge acquaintance—not a man with whom I had been excessively intimate, but one whom I had met frequently, for all that. I recognised him the moment he came into the room, but he apparently was most serenely unconscious that a college friend was hovering about behind his chair. At any rate, if he had recognised me he was wise enough not to mention it, for by doing so he would only have created a scene, and made it unpleasant for all parties concerned. However, as I said, I did not think he knew me, as his attention was wholly occupied by his dinner partner, the daughter of the house, and by far its best representative. Any one could see at half a glance that there was a pretty good mutual understanding between them—one of those tender half-relationships that are often so evident to eyes they are not intended for. "Pertaters, 'Iggins."

Higgins is my nom de guerre, and Mrs. Roone plies it incessantly. Let this request, which indubitably I ought to have forestalled, recall me to my more immediate duties. Charles Dickens says, "Waiters never walk or run, they have a mysterious power of skimming out of rooms which other mortals possess not." I think he was referring more particularly to those waiters who are indigenous to London cafes and chop-houses; but for a novice to attempt the gait of the ordinary waiter of private life is to court discouragement in failure. It looks quite easy, granted; so do all his duties. But take the word of one who knows, and, believe me, they are most intricate.

The dinner was over at last, and then we servants held high festival in the kitchen. That old adage, "Everything comes to those who wait," is very true; for we omitted no single item of the feast above stairs. It was great fun. I was a person evidently deserving of high honour, for the cook, who was autocrat of the lower regions, relegated me to play the part of host at one end of the table, vice the coachman superseded, whilst she occupied the other; and if the jollity was a trifle less refined than it had been amongst our superiors, it certainly was more entertaining. We dispensed with all the conventionalities of Society; indeed, it was suggested that I should sit down in my shirt-sleeves, as a tribute to the heated atmosphere; and the highest eulogies were passed on old Roone for (perhaps unconsciously) providing such fitting Christmas cheer.

I proposed the health of the cook, and she proposed mine in a neat little speech, not. replete with rhetorical eloquence, but expressive of fervid friendship, and hopes of continued acquaintance.-

But all things must have an end. Our convivial meal was, of necessity, curtailed by the chime of ten, reminding us to prepare additional refreshment for our superiors. They, sensible people, had recruited their ranks from friends -without, and were terminating the evening with the worship of Terpsichore. As I knew, from personal experience, devotion to the fair goddess is always attended by a severe drought in the throats of her votaries, and, according to order, I ensconced myself behind a table laden with antidotes to minister unto their need. To any one gifted with the least perception of the humorous, this, too, is a position of intense enjoyment. The male portion of the community are, for the most part, in a state of chronic thirst, and the wiles with which they try to lure their less affected partners are sometimes too ludicrous for anything. The ladies though, seldom give them fair play. Even if they have an almost insatiable longing for "something in a tumbler," they will scarcely ever own to it. They always strive to throw a visit to the refreshment-room in the light of a distinct favour, granted at much personal discomfiture.

Then there are the little flirtations, which increase in warmth as the evening draws on, and generous liquors nerve even the most timid to rash declarations. No one gives a thought to the waiter. He is merely regarded as an insensate fixture, perhaps in intellect a trifle above the table and chairs. I wonder if other waiters are ever as convulsed with suppressed laughter as I was. Perhaps their organisations are of different construction, and they cannot appreciate all they see and hear. Perhaps long acquaintance with such scenes renders them callous to their humorous side.

But I must leave these vain speculations. Gernstein, my old Cambridge acquaintance, is beckoning from the door. Heaven grant he has not recognised me!

I took his ices, mentally speculating on the chance of one of them being for Miss Roone, when, to my surprise, I found the library unoccupied save for Gernstein, who was standing up, with his back to the fire, smoking a cigarette. He had altered little since I had met him on equal terms, and what little change there was was certainly for the better. As an undergraduate his face had been rather lacking in character; as a successful merchant it had acquired firmness and determination that augured well for the prosperity of its owner. It was a handsome face withal, of a slightly Teutonic cast, and well set on a body of magnificent strength and symmetry.

"I beard him half in awe,
While Cabana's smoke came streaming
Through his open jaw."

"Alias Tony Haltoun that was. It is no use trying to deceive me, old man. I marked you down the instant I saw you. We heard of your misfortunes, but as you disappeared so suddenly from human view, none of us could give you a lift."

"Well, Gernstein, it is very good of you to condescend to recognise me; now I must ask you to ignore me again, or my hopes in this new profession will be blasted,"—bitterly.

"Stuff and nonsense. Let me call on you tomorrow, and I may perchance put you in the way of doing something better. Where do you live?"

"Hum; don't know where that is, but I suppose a cabby will find out for me. Shall you be at home about twelve to-morrow morning? All right, then expect me."

"Well, if you really do come, mind and leave your watch at home. Such things are rarities in Murgatroyd Court, and are prized accordingly. I must be off now, or they'll miss me."

CHAPTER III.
Autobiographical.

"How oft it pains historians to relate
The truth which Truth obliges them to state."

I HAVE started too far on in the narrative of this chequered career of mine, and unless I give a brief sketch of what has gone before, the finale will be eminently obscure. So many of the events which happened afterwards hinge on those which have gone before.

My father, like his only son, was a vagabond. Do not misunderstand, and go off with the idea that he paraded the highways in dilapidated apparel, and solicited alms from the passers-by—that he was a professional tramp, in fact. No such thing. Had he been born a pauper, and not in comparative affluence, I could not say but what he would have joined the great army of peripatetics who prefer a constant existence under the canopy of heaven to dull labour and a lowly cottage. He might have set his shoulder to the wheel and earned a competence, but there is no saying. As it was, however, he had no absolute need for labour, and consequently avoided it, to indulge to the full of his bent in a passionate liking for travel. Illness would have been the only anchor to make him stay more than three days anywhere: and he was never ill.

Even in his courtship with my mother this invariable rule was not broken through, and she, to humour his whim, allowed herself to be married "off-hand," and to be carried off on an indefinitely long honeymoon. They suited one another admirably during their two years of married life, and when I appeared on the scene—at Naples—my father found himself a widower.

His love for his wife must have been far deeper than any one gave him credit for, as on this occasion he actually stayed in this one place—Naples—a whole week, and then went away, vowing that he would never again set eyes on the innocent cause of his bereavement. And he kept his word.

There is a hackneyed proverb always in Italians' mouths, "See Naples, and die." I was born there, and therefore saw it. Also I nearly died—of its fetid emanations. On this account, at the early age of three weeks and a half, I was moved, they tell me—the matter has escaped my own recollection—to the Imperial City, and there, in the hotbed of priestcraft, spent my early childhood. At twelve, being fairly accomplished in the Italian language, and in nothing else, excepting a smattering of English, I was sent, in the first instance, to a clergyman in Derbyshire, who took in "backward" pupils; and afterwards, when he had drummed a little learning into my very vacuous head, to a public school.

Here I suffered miserably. Unaccustomed to the habits of other boys of my own nationality, I daily made fearful inroads into their pride and prejudice by my unconscious sins of omission and commission, and we were in a constant state of warfare. Not one boy would make a friend of such a social pariah as I, and this naturally made me seek to protect myself.

In time I became as "quick of fence" as my tormentors, and could pay them back in their own coin. My supremacy or independence—* which you will—was not established till I was sixteen, and then a combination of circumstances rendered it useless to me—at school. First, my father died of enteric fever at Pard. I will not pretend to say that his death did not give me a shock, but I will lay claim to no false sentimentality. He had studiously avoided me through the whole course of my existence, and recognised it only by a liberal allowance paid through a lawyer guardian; so little love was lost between us. At his decease I inherited £8,000 a year, and was fettered only by the will of an uncle—my mothers brother—whom I had seen but once. Nor was this bond a trying one, for he practically washed his hands of me at once by asking what I should like to do with myself, were I my own despot.

"Travel," said I, for my fathers vagabond instinct had been handed down in all its entirety.

So I travelled. Being without experience, I had to purchase that commodity; but the habit of self-reliance unavoidably attained at school stood me in good stead, and the price I paid for it was not excessive. Moreover, I looked older than I really was, and perhaps that aided me slightly. Anyhow, although my wanderings took me almost everywhere, I never came to serious grief. That special providence which looks after fools probably charged itself with my care: I do not want to be egotistical and lay claim to special long-sightedness and ability.

Four whole years I spent as a nomad, and then bethought me that a return to England would be an agreeable change. I knew the Golden Gate of San Francisco and Hell Gate at New York, the Levee at New Orleans and the Estrada das Mongubeiras of Pará, the Unter der Linden and the Boulevards, well—all of them better than the Strand or Trafalgar Square. I would "do" Great Britain; it would be a novelty, I arrived at this magnanimous determination one day at the latter end of August in St. Petersburg, and acting on it instanter, sailed for Hull by a steamer that left within the hour. The dirty seaport has no particular charm, so I went on to Scarborough, to see my countrymen hard at work holiday-making. This was a turning-point in my career.

Rendering some slight service to a young man belonging to a party staying in the same hotel, who had just escaped from the toils of Alma Mater, I was soon en rapport with all of them, and for the first time learned what a festive place was Cambridge. Despite their habit of dividing the world into two classes—University -men and non-University men—they admitted me to their conferences, and I was speedily disabused of a preconceived notion that people betook themselves to the Universities for the sole purpose of work. "Reading," I was told, u occupies a very small portion of the undergraduate's attention at Cambridge: he cannot spare the time for it, his other engagements are so numerous and so pressing."

Clearly I must go to Cambridge. The restraint might be irksome at first, but the vacations were long; and even if these failed to satisfy my insatiate longing for freedom, the remedy was in my own hands. I could terminate my connection with the University at a moment's notice.

CHAPTER IV.
Cambridge.

MOST Cambridge dons would unhesitatingly set down a man who entered the University merely for amusement, as a candidate for ruin in this world, and perdition in the next. These I naturally avoided, for four years had effectually dissipated most of the little Latin and less Greek instilled into my system at school, and I was loth to begin afresh ab initio. But the "benign mother" provides refuges for those who have but few scholarly attainments, and to one of these I hied me, and found the dreaded restraint less real than talked about. Provided they did not come into too frequent collision with the University authorities, our tutor, so the men told me, seldom meddled with those under his charge. He liked all to enjoy themselves, and troubled his head little about their futures. His motto was, "Live and let live." The first half he carried out to the best of his abilities, which were not small; the rest he fulfilled to the letter, by never interfering when he was not wanted.

Under such auspices, then, I commenced my undergraduate career at College (I leave the name vacant to prevent an influx, which would spoil one of its many charms), and who shall say that they were bad ones? Had they been other than they were, my residence at Cambridge would have terminated where it began—at the commencement—and I should have lost.... Easy, though; we are getting on too fast.

The life was a strange one at first, with its queer customs and mixed society of gentlemen and cads, reading men and idlers, all jumbled into a huge pot-pourri; but I grew to like it. There was no lack of occupation, as I had feared, and time never hung heavily on my hands. In fact, the days were never long enough for half our projected programmes. The boats demanded first attention. Every day, wet or fine, snow or sunshine, the river must be visited, and the allotted time devoted to stirring its sluggish waters. Then riding, driving, tennis, and garden-parties filled up the remaining hours of daylight; whilst dinners, card-parties, dances, and such-like, laid claim to those of the night. How reading-men could find time for their books was a problem I never solved, or tried to. But still, though I neglected authors of a dead past, I kept myself au courant with contemporary literature, in which I was joined by the chief of many chums.

He was a peculiar individual, a man of few friends, yet one who wished to study the world in all its aspects. In person he was at once insignificant and striking, unhandsome yet pleasing—a man whom you would pass by almost unnoticed, and then feel bound to turn yourself round for a further inspection. He was small, slight, and slim of body, but a perfect model. His features were by no means regular, and they were overspread with a ghastly pallor, yet there was a strikingness and character about them, from the square jaw to the deep-set eye, that told the careful observer of a mind capable of great things. Yet to those who knew him, he was a curious mixture of almost childish innocence and abstruse learning. Some of the commonest current topics and customs of the day he was most supremely ignorant of, yet on "learned" subjects I never met his equal—he was a perambulating conglomeration of encyclopaedias.

The name of this paradox was the only thing not uncommon about him. It was Smith—John Smith; a very nice name, surely, but a trifle hackneyed. One would not have been surprised at Solomon Socrates, but plain John Smith! Proh pudor!

To appeal to that man as John Smith was a thing I could not stomach, so I always called him "Jack;" and in this I was alone—no one else in the precincts of the University dared so much familiarity. Jack was not a popular man, and this pained him. But he never courted popularity; he was far too shy and reserved, too acutely sensitive and too proud. Even with me, his reticence on some subjects was unbroken. I never once heard him allude to his antecedents or connections, and if others made inquiries after his doings before entering the University, he invariably turned the conversation without satisfying their curiosity.

Now, as I knew practically everybody, and Jack nobody, we rarely met in the society of others; and even when we did come together, I scarcely ever heard the sound of his voice, except for short comments and requests. It was always, "Now, I want you to tell me about Quito, Tony," or "Let me hear some more of that trip you took in Siberia," or "What was Krakatoa like last time you saw it?" And I was expected to lecture, and to answer any apropos question he might choose to put from time to time.

Now, you may have gathered from the foregoing pages that I am a pre-eminently selfish person; and, indeed, such is the case. You wonder then, why 1 should inflict on m)self the society of a man whom you probably deem excessively uninteresting and unentertaining. Perhaps you think that Jack's show of interest in my wanderings was a species of delicate flattery which I was unable to resist? Nothing of the sort. Those lectures were positively distasteful to me. No, there was some fascination about the man, some inherent charm which others had not discovered, which irresistibly attracted me to him, and though our natures were polar opposites, we became at length a modernised edition of Damon and Pythias.

But, as I have said, we were not invariably together. Had Jack always been at my elbow to give me seasonable advice, the incident which changed the whole tenour of my life, and provided material for this history, might never have happened, and ergo the history itself could not have been written.

(Do I hear you, who have struggled thus far through it, say, "Would that that had been so?")

The incident I refer to is one that has happened to many, and it centred on fickleness personified. Her other name was Laura Crame.

We met first at a ball, and it was all over with me in a minute. I did not fall in love, I threw myself into it—jumped into it—leaped madly into it; and I thought my passion was returned. So did every one else, and they congratulated me, for Laura was fair to look upon. Tall and stately, with clean-cut features o classical symmetry and a figure sans pareil, she was the incarnation of the idealised woman of my dreams. She received my homage as if it were but her due, and permitted me to dance a constant attendance, with here and there a stray word of kindness as a guerdon for my services.

Then suddenly her manner altered, and I was told—afterwards—that the change was coincident with a heavy pecuniary loss which her father had sustained by the failure of a mine in Colorado. Her disposition became as warm and caressing as before it had been cold and indifferent; and I, poor blind fool, was not slow to take advantage in the alteration of tone.

We were strolling in a college garden during the interval of a concert. Ropes of Chinese lanterns shed a rich Cathayan light over a scene which even now vividly recalls itself to me-I proposed and was accepted. The tableau must have trespassed largely on the ludicrous, to judge from the account of an unimpassioned eye-witness, who, unknown to us, viewed the whole; indeed, next day the whole 'Varsity was roaring over it. But like Galileo, I "cared for none of these things;" and Laura, if she felt any annoyance, took care to show none.

Most people congratulated me on what they were pleased to term my "good fortune;" and if the congratulations were for the most part ironical, in my then state I took all for sincere. Jack, I think, was the only exception to the general rule, and for awhile our friendship cooled considerably. Breaking from his habitual silence, he said to me—

"Because you will never be happy with her. She is only seeking after your money."

"Look here, Jack; don't presume too much on your intimacy to insult Miss Crame. By what occult powers do you discover that she loves me for my money, as you term it, and not for myself?"

"Never mind my occult powers. You must be satisfied by the bare assertion, as I have no proofs to lay before you."

Naturally I resented such language, strong words passed between us, and we parted, not to meet again for some time.

But Jack's dismal forebodings were fulfilled. The Colorado miners struck a fresh reef of quartz, far more prolific of gold than its unfortunate predecessor, and old Crame's shares rose from zero to treble their initial value. Immediately after I received a note from his daughter giving me an unmistakable congé. It was couched in the plainest terms, and stated exactly what Jack had warned me of. "She could not endure the thought of living in such straitened circumstances as her father was reduced to at the time I asked her to become my wife, and agreed to marriage as the readiest refuge open to her. With the revival of the mine her ideas naturally reverted to their old courses, and she could not then bind herself for life to a man she cared nothing for. She regretted the exigencies of the case had forced her into a line of action which she felt sure I must condemn, and hoped that I should shortly meet with some one more worthy of my regard."

After reading this cruel declaration, which shattered all my hopes, Cambridge became unendurable to me, and I left without beat of drum, to seek distraction at the Antipodes, or anywhere else where I might find it.

CHAPTER V.
On The Down Grade.

"The gates of hell are open night and day;
Smooth the descent, and easy is the way:
But to return and view the cheerful skies—
In this the task and mighty labour lies."

SIX months had passed since Laura Crame "threw me over," and in them I had been going the pace pretty fast—mostly down-hill. Some cynical philosopher has observed that there is something satisfactory about going to the devil—the road is easy, and you are sure to get there.

I finally went via the turf, after two or three futile attempts by other paths, and succeeded beyond my most sanguine expectations; in fact, at the outset I had no intention whatever of completing the journey. Nothing was further from my thoughts. But if I had not had distraction I should have gone mad, so perhaps all was for the best.

It came to pass thus. I was at that plague-spot of Europe, Monaco, playing heavily, and with varying luck. Fortune favoured me one day, and frowned on me the next; so that, allowing for the ordinary "pull" of the bank, my pocket neither benefited nor suffered much. I had struck up an acquaintance with a fellow-gambler, an Englishman, whose pessimistic and cynical views were just then directly in accordance with my own. Each thought the world had used him badly, and both were anxious to be revenged on it.

Royston's wife had married him and then gone off with another. My wife in posse had refused to become my wife in esse.

The fickle goddess was less kind to Royston than she was to me. She let him lose a large fortune steadily, but none the less surely. He hazarded his income, lost it, and then tried to gain it back by intrenching on the capital which was little by little slipping from his grasp.

I suggested to him one day to abandon a contest in which fate so evidently fought against him.

"No," said he; "I shall see it out one way or the other. Either all shall come back, or they shall gain every sixpence I have."

Sometimes his luck brightened a little, but the relentless rake of the croupier gathered in far more than the bank disgorged.

"Look here, Haltoun," he said to me one day, "I'm clean broke—everything's gone except the racing-stud; and as I can't afford to keep that on now, I want to know if you will buy? You shall have it at a low figure."

I demurred at first, as I had taken rather a liking to the man, and did not wish to give him any further help on the down grade.

"Well, if you won't purchase, somebody else must. I'm just gambler enough to believe that luck will turn yet, and the horses will do it."

Three months later saw him ruined and an outcast, and me giving my whole understanding to the intricacies of the turf. It did not take me long to master its "villainous phraseology"—I had picked up most of that at Cambridge—but there are more minutiae that a man who devotes all his time to racing must acquire, than any outsider knows of. Most of their details can be bought only by. bitter experience, and at long prices. I had to pay for my learning "through the nose."

My racing career would prove eminently uninteresting, were I to recount it at length. I shall only, therefore, relate one incident, whose consequences might have been grave, but at the same time were exceedingly ludicrous. I should mention that my temporary headquarters were at Newmarket, and I was in the habit of taking a walk every evening, after dinner, along the Cambridge road to the village of Bottisham. This being about eight miles each way, the return journey was in darkness. The road is a lonely one, and hence these nocturnal journeyings gave my mind full scope for those morbid cravings of melancholy which it continually yearned for.

But one evening, stumping along my customary route, pipe in mouth and stick in hand, the blue devils refused to answer my call. Everything was favourable to their coming—a drizzling rain was wetting me through, the utter absence of stellar or lunar light led me ever and anon into a wayside ditch, and a keen east wind blowing over the flats hinted broadly that I had left my great-coat behind. But instead of being depressed by their influence, I was conscious of an unusual elevation of spirits.

I whistled, then anathematised myself for doing so. What right had I, of all men, to be cheerful? The unspoken question made me smile. Then I laughed out loud—a good healthy laugh that had not troubled me for many months. Clearly I might have looked for some portent after such an ebullition.

I was coming near the Devil's Ditch now, as the soughing of the trees in the long avenue which approaches it tells me. And there is a light ahead. It is a gipsies' camp-fire, to leeward of their arched, brown tent. Any other night I should pass them by without a second thought, but now my humour leads me to go up and speak.

"The gentleman will be proud to do so," though he inwardly fears its entomological inhabitants. Its human tenants, though far from savoury in odour, attract him by their picturesque squalor. They are evidently of the lowest type of Romanies—an old woman and a young man, probably her son—but they are profuse in their hospitality. I accept with some qualms a dram of gin in a teacup, and we converse afFably.

The male animal, who is crouched behind me, makes an observation to his dam in a language which I do not understand, and she answers in the same tongue. Then in English—

"If the gentleman will cross the hand of the gipsy with silver, she will tell his fortune."

Knowing that the sibyl's prophecies would be optimistic in proportion to the magnitude of the fee, and willing to gratify his present happy humour, the gentleman placed half-a-sovereign in the crone's dingy palm, and then extended his own for inspection. The problem in palmistry was evidently a complicated one, for she studied the lines long and carefully, tracing them the while with her grimy forefinger. But of a sudden her cogitations came to a close. Gripping the hand she held tightly between both her own, she uttered a shrill cry; simultaneously with which a sack, held by her offspring, descended over my shoulders, and I was a helpless prisoner.

So sudden was the action that I was incapable of resistance till it had been completed, and then my struggles were ineffectual. The further precaution of coiling a rope round all, rendered me utterly helpless.

Of their intentions I was not left long in doubt, for skilful hands were speedily at work easing me of my valuables, with a dexterity born only of long practice. Then there was a consultation in the Romany tongue. Of its import I could gather little, except that its participators took different views of an important subject—presumably the disposal of myself.

Whether it was suggested that a knife afforded the best means, on the principle that dead men never gossip, I do not know. Perhaps more pacific measures prevailed, for the discussion suddenly ceased, and I was lifted up, taken over the hedge, and deposited in a hollow on the other side, away from the road. Immediately afterwards certain sounds told that my late entertainers were "trekking"—probably to avoid the embarrassment of a meeting in the morning before witnesses.

I thought with a kind of grim enjoyment over this tragic termination of my unusual good spirits, and almost laughed at the peculiar punishment dealt out to them. For had the customary "blues" prevailed, I should have passed the vagrants' fire with scarce a thought of its existence.

Release was by no means speedy, but at last it came at the hands of a party of Cambridge undergrads, who were revelling in the enjoyment of a forbidden tandem-drive over to Newmarket. As chance would have it, I knew one of them slightly, and laughing heartily over my misadventure, we drove into the racing metropolis for luncheon.

Most of my turf ventures had proved failures, and corresponding inroads were made on the exchequer, but at last a bright spot appeared on the horizon. "Pearl," a horse that we never put great faith in, came on rapidly, and my trainer told me he thought him "about good enough to win the Cambridgeshire." The trials confirmed this, and I risked every penny I had for one grand coup. The horse was by no means a general favourite; in fact, the public fought shy of him, owing to his indifferent performances on previous occasions. Consequently prices were low, and I stood to win one of the largest sums ever taken out of the ring. r

How it leaked out I know not—and probably never shall—but two days before the race a sporting prophet opined that "Pearl" would pull off the Cambridgeshire, and his ideas were substantiated by a large commission in the hands of an agent at Tattersall's to back the horse at any price he could get.

Personally I conceived this mattered to me not one jot, as my own book was filled. But it had an effect I never bargained for. Sonners, the trainer, more versed in these affairs, hinted that the horse might be "got at," but in my fancied security I pooh-poohed his suspicions.

They were correct, though. On the day before the race "Pearl" was found almost hamstrung in his stable, and on that next black settling Monday I was a beggar. That gave me the final fillip on the downward grade, and I journeyed rapidly to the dogs, gravitating to Wideford, which is, I suppose, the kennel where those legendary hounds reside.

CHAPTER VI.
On An Office-Stool.

"Do you know the delight
That it gives one to write
Out figures you don't care a jot for;
When your mind is elsewhere,
Far away through the air
In lands that you only can sigh for?"

"Expect me about twelve to-morrow," had been Gernstein's parting valediction on the night of my début as a waiter, and so I expected him. The effects of my Christmas carouse were a parched mouth and a tolerable headache—the result of moderate indulgence after long abstinence—and I was on the point of hailing Mrs. Garth down the stairs for liquid refreshment, when I heard voices raised in loud altercation. One of them was Gernstein s, so I slipped down and conveyed him safely to my retreat.

"I am glad you came, Tony, for that old she-dragon downstairs was not disposed to allow me peaceable entry." I met her in the midst of a heated argument with a Salvation Army man down the Court, and had the indiscretion to laugh at her efforts. They were too ludicrous for anything. Despairing, apparently, of convincing him of her distaste for indiscriminate evangelisation by mere eloquence, she was appealing to his feelings through the skin, accompanying her words with a very shower of blows on his unlucky head."

"Poor devil couldn't help it. He was one of the usual feeble, limp type, who probably could not get work, and didn't wish for it, thinking preaching a far lighter employment. And she is a regular Amazon—accustomed to battle, I should say, and a keen enjoyer of it."

"You are right there. Mrs. G. is despotic in Murgatroyd Court by sheer right of conquest. But, changing the subject slightly, it is awfully kind of you to look me up in this den."

"Not an ounce of it, my dear man. Pure selfishness, I assure you. I am come solely in my own interests, as I should have told you last night, had not an interview with the governor been necessary before I could take a step to better the firm."

"However can a ne'er-do-well such as I am assist you? My ignorance on all subjects connected with Wideford trade is simply stupendous."

"Now, just shut your potato-trap and listen." (You see, I still stick to the old 'Varsity freedom of speech.) "We—i.e., the guv'nor and myself—are in business—something in i wool,' that's near enough for you—and naturally have much to do with the coin of the realm. Now, this part of the concern is under the immediate supervision of a cashier who has lately been speculating, unsuccessfully, on his own hook, with our capital. He has had, in fact, what Theodore Hook called 'an affection of the chest which required change of air,' and the deputy-cashier which was under him reigns in his stead. Now, will you fill the post he has just vacated? The duties are quite within your compass; and the salary—three pounds a week, with prospect of a rise—will set you on your legs till you can get something better."

Naturally I was overjoyed at the prospect of being able to earn an honest livelihood, and prefaced my thankful acceptance with a modest protest against my incapacity.

"What a pig-headed old grumbler it is!" broke in Gernstein, cutting me short. "Can't you see that I am acting from purely mercenary motives? Why, we shall make any amount out of you. Just fancy getting a man of your experience in our counting-house for the paltry sum of sixty shillings a week! No, hold your tongue, I won't hear another word now that you have accepted. Let's wet the agreement," going to the top of the stairs. "What's the landlady's name?"

He disappeared, and returned, followed shortly afterwards by the good dame bearing two pewter pots of porter from a neighbouring public-house, and looking in a far better temper than she had been ten minutes previously.

"Tha'rt noan such a fooil as tha looks, young feller," she remarked to Gernstein. "Ah thoght when ah seed tha jest nah, that tha were wun o' them masher chaps ez is allus pykin' ther noses in where they're noan wanted. Tha wert 'flaid o' me, mebbe?" This last with a grim smile of gratified vanity.

Not waiting for a reply, she marched out of the room, leaving Gernstein and myself nearly choking with the laughter which we dared not give vent to in her presence.

"Well, old chap," said he, clinking his pewter against mine, "here's luck, and may I live to see you making a fortune in Wideford trade. It will be rather irksome at first—I found it so terribly—but you will get used to it in time, especially when the gold comes rolling in apace to help reconcile you. When can you commence your duties?"

"To-morrow, if you wish it. I have no ties, or clothes I was about to add, when he anticipated me.

"By the way, I have had something on my mind ever since we parted at Cambridge. I lost a tenner to you at nap in Cockerton's rooms, and never had a chance to pay up till now. Here it is, and my conscience is relieved. Sorry for keeping you waiting so long."

"Now, Tony, don't be rude. You really must not contradict me. I remember the circumstance as clearly as if it happened yesterday. And, by-the-bye, if you want anything for current expenses, do not hesitate to make me your banker. Au revoir till to-morrow."

And he was gone. Of course, the card debt was a purely fictitious one, but none the less I appreciated his delicacy in wishing to spare me the indignity of being a recipient of alms. Under Gernstein's bluff exterior beat the kindest heart ever vouchsafed to mortal man. He had come across an unfortunate with whom he had once been slightly acquainted, and had played the.Good Samaritan in the most practical way which lay in his power—not by giving good advice, but by opening up an avenue through which his protégé could carve himself a sufficient competency.

I mused thus for some time, but at length awoke from my reverie, went out, refreshed my inner man at a cheap restaurant, and then marched off to a tailor's. I think the man of the scissors did not much fancy the appearance of the shabby object before him; but the assurance that the wherewithal to pay would be forthcoming, and the exhibition of a document emanating from the Bank of England quieted his scruples, and my raiment was promised for the following day. Subsequently Mrs. Garth lost her lodger, who, after discharging his debt to her, and succouring her husband, who was 11 booked for a drunk and disorderly—fourteen days or twenty bob (thereby earning lifelong gratitude), departed to rooms that were situated less near heaven, and which lay in a more respectable locality.

I cannot say that my new work was thoroughly congenial—there was too much monotony about it for that; but to live in comparative comfort again, after the privations I had endured—that was ecstasy. Gernstein was kindness personified. In his pleasant, unobtrusive way, he helped me into Wideford society, and it was my own fault that I did not succeed in it. Some of the people I liked much, others I detested most cordially. The latter were for the most part ostentatious parvenus, on whose dull perceptions no sarcasms had effect. There was one whom I have in that mysterious organ, my mind's eye now, who used to boast that the books in his magnificent library were bought by the yard, and their bindings made to harmonise with the paper on the walls; that all his education was picked up at a night-school before he had reached the age of ten years; that he was the proprietor of the handsome lady on the opposite side of the table "—she was his wife—(t that he was at that moment wearing no less than ten thousand pounds' worth of diamonds; and that he, being a self-made man without an atom of pride, looked down with scorn on those whose riches were ancestral." There is no egotist like your parvenu. This one was rather amusing for awhile as a subject whereon to test the limit of human dulness to sarcasm, but in time he grew stale. Too much of a good thing palls on the senses.

One day, after I had been in the service of Messrs. Gernstein and Son a couple of months, a pencilled note was handed me as I came into the office.

"Dear Tony," it ran, "I shall not be in town to-day, so please open my letters, and see to their contents. If you have nothing better on, come up to-night and have a game at pool. I shall be in by nine."

I had "nothing better on"—Gernstein's house was almost the only one I cared to visit—and went up pretty punctually to the appointed time.

"Mr. Arthur is not in yet, sir," said the trim maid-servant who answered the door, "He said if he was late, would you wait in the billiard-room?"

The Gernsteins' billiard-room was one of the most comfortable rooms in the house. The table was across one end, and ranged round a large open fireplace at the other were a number of those huge, soft, eider-down chairs, which adapt themselves comfortably, even to the most angular. One of the vacant spaces was occupied by a sideboard, containing smokeables and potables, and the walls were hung with a few very passable engravings. The room could scarcely be called a handsome one—it was too comfortable and convenient for that—besides, the chairs bore signs of constant and not over-gentle usage, and the mantelshelf told of heels elevated greatly above their adjoining bodies; but it was the favourite one of the house, and I was surprised to find it empty.

Knocking the balls about alone is rather an unprofitable amusement, so I lit a cigar, ensconced myself snugly in one of the aforesaid chairs before the fire, took up a paper, and prepared to read.

"'University Intelligence.' H'm, that must have been invented since I was up. 'Imperial Parliament.' H'm. 'Obstruction by Irish Members.' Pity they don't hang a few of them. 'Mr. Gladstone then rose.' Wish I could talk for two columns and a half, like Mr. Gladstone does, without anybody making a guess at my meaning, which probably is non-existent. 'Double Murder and Suicide.' What would the papers do without criminals? This is very stupid fare; let us see the agony column. 'Y. Q. may come back now, as all has been settled amicably. The twins are well.' Y. Q. must have been getting into trouble. A family man too. Shame on him!

"£20 Reward! The above will be given to any one sending the present address of Anthony Merlwood Haltoun, or bringing forward evidence of his death. When last heard of, a year from this date, he answered to the following description: Height 6ft. 1in., and proportionately broad. Hair, dark brown, eyebrows and moustache ditto, the rest of the face clean-shaved (but this may have been altered since). Nose slightly Roman, mouth firm, manner decisive. Application should be made to Messrs. Dryed and Cutt, Lincoln's Inn Fields. N.B.—Much advantage will accrue to Mr. Haltoun from an interview with the above firm.'"

(I give the description in full, as I suppose one is due, and this, at any rate, is not drawn up by myself.)

Showing the advertisement to Gernstein, who came in shortly afterwards, I asked his opinion on it.

"Certainly," said he. "Have you no relation who would be anxious as to your whereabouts?"

"I think so, unless he has married lately. From what little I ever knew of him, though, he was a confirmed bachelor of the most steadfast type."

"Then, depend upon it, old man, you are his heir, and Gernstein and Co. will lose a good cashier in consequence of his having come into a colossal fortune. But to make sure, my lawyer shall write up and inquire without implicating you. I don't want to blast your hopes, but it is just possible that a dun is taking this great interest in your welfare."

"You need have no fears on that score," I replied. "Luckily for the creditors, when the crash came I could just meet my liabilities. However, thanks all the same for your offer; it is best to be on the safe side."

CHAPTER VII.
A Legacy.

"A man cannot take on his goods when he goes
Into hell or to heaven as may be;
He parts with them all when he turns up his toes
To that pretty small flower the daisy."

LAWYERS' offices generally have a depressing air about them suggestive of chicanery and fraud forwarded or hindered. Their appurtenances and surroundings, for the most part dismal and gloomy, further this idea; but if dirt and discomfort form any criterion of respectability, Messrs. Dryed and Cutt had achieved the acme thereof.

When I called at their place of business in Lincoln's Inn Fields both principals were engaged, and I had leisure to contemplate half-a-dozen poor devils of clerks quill-driving as if their lives depended on it. There was no particular air of prosperity about them, as they sat perched aloft on high stools, with the tails of their office coats hanging limply down behind them, and saving when one of them furtively spiked at a fly on the wall with his pen, and then by unsuccessfully endeavouring to obliterate the inky splash with his blotting-paper, caused merriment to his fellows, very little to break the dreary monotony of their daily task.

"Mr. Dryed will be happy to see you now, sir," and I was ushered into an inner room, and after shaking hands, conducted to a chair. The air here was even mustier than in the outer office, perhaps because it was one door farther from he outside. The grimy-paned double-windows admitted little light, and forbade all thought of ventilation. Two sides of the room were occupied with white-lettered tin deed-boxes, a third gave support to volumes of legal import, and the remaining side was garnished by an old-fashioned fireplace and a yellow almanack. The paper on the walls, like the carpet on the floor was quite en régie with the other appurtenances; dirt and wear had obscured the colours and patterns of all.

The lawyer himself was rather a contrast to this dismal frame-work. He was a short, stout, little man, whose comely paunch and self-satisfied air announced that the world was going well with him.

"You have called upon me with reference to an advertisement in the daily paper?, I think, Mr. Haltoun?"

"Ah, well, we have had some trouble in discovering your whereabouts. We were able to trace your movements till you—er—"

"Exactly, met with pecuniary losses, and thenceforward we lost sight of you. Our Wideford correspondents, Messrs. Mitchell and Haley, state that a Mr. Gernstein is prepared to vouch for your identity; so having no fears on that score, I may proceed at once to the subject in hand. You are unaware, I suppose, of the death of your mother's brother, Mr. Merlwood?"

"He died six months ago, intestate, at Nice, and we have reason to believe that you are the next-of-kin, and consequently his heir. I must sympathise with you on the one event, and congratulate you on the other."

"As I have hardly ever seen my uncle, Mr. Dryed, his death does not affect me much, albeit he is the only relation I had left; but it is very kind of you to congratulate me. What will be the extent of his legacy?"

"That, Mr. Haltoun, I am unable to tell you at present. There have been so many expenses attendant on the necessary legal and other business which the death of our esteemed client has entailed, that I could really form no adequate estimate of the residuum. However, now that we have found you, all will be settled as quickly as possible. As we shall want your signature for several documents, kindly leave us your address before you go North again."

Taking this as a hint that our interview was over, I pencilled, "Care of Messrs. Gernstein and Co., Wideford," on a scrap of paper, exchanged another shake of the hand, and once more breathed with comparative freedom in the square outside.

"We shall be sorry to lose you, Mr. Haltoun," said Gernstein, senior, on my tendering a resignation, "but of course congratulate you heartily on your good fortune."

"Thank you for that, too; but I don't suppose we shall bother you long. Arthur has his eye on a man."

Luckily for me, the man who was beneath Arthur's eye, when examined as to his attainments, fell short of the requisite standard, and I was morally bound, though most unwillingly, to retain my place a little longer. Luckily, I say, and for this reason. A letter from the London lawyers advised me of the fact that my late uncle's worldly wealth was much less than they previously had reason to suspect. Several heavy liabilities incurred abroad had to be met, and other expenses at home to be paid, before the residuum came to me. They regretted exceedingly to have to announce that, besides a small sealed oak box bearing my name, there was only the sum of £48 7s. 1Od.

After all the châteaux en Espagne that I had been lately constructing, this was indeed a tumble. Their fabrics, certainly, had been built on an insecure foundation, whose limits I had no idea of; but still, if my lowest estimate had been ten acres, a come-down to three square yards made it all the more irritating. Gernstein, true friend that he was, showed substantial sympathy by reinstalling me in my old position, and did everything in his power to alleviate my disappointment, by dragging me into a swirl of gaiety; but all to no purpose. The blue devils had again taken up residence, and nothing but time, edax rerum, would dethrone them. I threw myself into work with an energy that probably astonished my employers, as aforetime I had been a very laggard of laggards; and that, I believe, helped me to forget, more than anything else. Time and occupation will heal all mental wounds, and though the scars remain, they are not sensitive, unless roughly touched. Nay, at length they become so toughened, that we knock them ourselves with malice prepensé, just to test the efficacy of the cure.

So, by degrees I got quite cheerful and contented again, being blessed with a fairly buoyant disposition when I did not choose to overrule it.

But a significant reminder, in the form of the oak box the afore-mentioned, coming from Dryed and Cutt, seriously endangered a relapse.

Now, I did not expect this box to contain articles of value. So, when four-and-sevenpence carriage had to be paid, I most devoutly wished it had never reached its destination. Indeed had not the landlady taken it in during my absence, it would have returned whence it came. However, now that it lay in my room, natural curiosity demanded that it should be opened. How to effect this was the next question. The box was most solidly made, clamped with iron at the corners, and had its hinges and lock concealed beneath the lid. Key I had none, and the poker made no impression on its betoughened skin. So I left it till next day, and borrowed a centre-bit to bore round the fastenings.

I spoiled the tool in the operation, as the box was lined with sheet brass, but succeeded in working round the lock. A further application of the poker wrenched it away, and the lid came open to reveal a collection of papers huddled together higgledy-piggledy in splendid confusion. It appeared as if they had been stowed there hurriedly with never a glance at their contents; for here was a sketch of a prizefighter cheek-by-jowl with a tender love-letter signed "Therèse," the unpaid bill of a London shoemaker nestling lovingly among some more tender epistles from sundry other damsels, and so on and so on.

In the upper layers love-letters predominated,, and if my respected uncle replied with half the warmth with which he had been written to, there must have been a pretty fair amount of ground work for "breach of promise" suits floating about the country. However, he seemed to have been very cosmopolitan in his favours, and so perhaps avoided jealousy.

Lower down were a series of papers marked "Sketches," in which the writer gave as his excuse for putting pen to paper, "the longing for ideal companions of his own creation." If by ideal he meant original and eccentric ones, his success was prodigious, for never, let us hope, did such contorted prodigies as he depicted tread this mortal earth. How he ever conceived them I cannot tell. They must one and all have been the fancies of a disordered brain.

Beneath these were cuttings from papers—mostly comic ones—in various languages, photographs of actresses, a recipe for curing hay-fever, and a voluminous document addressed to myself. It was written in characters that reminded one of an erratic spider dipped in ink and allowed to work his own wicked will on a sheet of paper. Moreover, it had evidently been penned in haste and not been revised, as several mistakes and omissions bore witness. Altogether it was the most curious epistle ever specially addressed to me, and as such I cannot in decency introduce it at the fag-end of a chapter of growls.

CHAPTER VIII.
My Uncle's Letter.

"MY dear though unknown nephew," it began, "I have watched your career, though probably you know it not, with a keen interest since you were placed under my charge, and have come to the conclusion—as, doubtless, have many others—that you are an arrant fool."

"I have rarely, if ever, detected you in the act of doing good to any of your fellow-men, on which 1 congratulate you, as also on your profound egotism and care for self. If you possessed even a fair modicum of brains, you would turn out a miraculous villain; but as it is, I fear you are destined to pine in obscurity.

"But cheer up, my boy, and do not let my words discourage you. There is time for amendment yet. I see you are dispensing your money broadcast to the blacklegs of Newmarket at present, and although that is, beyond doubt, a goodly deed, I should advise you to desist from it. Remember, money is a power, and with it you can work anything your mind sets itself to."

"The scurrilous old villain!" was my mental comment. "What unconscious injury have I done to make him heap up abuse in this cheerful fashion? Several more pages, too! I've a jolly good mind to pitch the whole in the fire. No, I won't, though; it is rather amusing."

"Look at me, now. Without money, I should have been practically helpless; with it, Machiavelli has not been my equal. Like the mole, I have worked unseen; and, like the mole, I have left traces of my passage everywhere. Unlike the mole, I have consumed none of the vermin that lie beneath the surface—I fostered them—and again, unlike the mole, my operations have not been confined to one small tract; they have been world-spread. "Boy, I am mad!"

"Well, the murder's out at last," I thought. "No sane man could have penned all this unadulterated twaddle. It is a bit of a curiosity, though, in its way."

"Nobody knows it. You will not know it till either inclination or accident causes me to shuffle off this mortal coil, to see whether madness can exist in that mysterious world they say there is beyond the grave. And this is the reason of my obscurity. I do not often trespass on the bounds of propriety; but if the slightest hitch occurs in the plans I have laid down for carrying on my operations anywhere, I quit the place instanter. Thus, if the shrewd have inklings of my condition, their means of verification are withdrawn.

"Acting strictly on these lines, I have done an immensity of harm everywhere, and that without the slightest compunction.

"Before madness, glorious madness, enthralled me among its most ardent votaries, I was that nauseous being, an involuntary philanthropist. I possessed money in abundance, was too lethargic to spend any myself in benevolent works, but grudgingly doled it out to others, that they might do it for me. Now, nous avons changé tout cela; and when I say 'we,' I mean the devil and myself, for he has graciously consented to be incarnate in me, and to preserve me from harm, so long as I faithfully perform my allotted task. The duties, though onerous, are by no means irksome. There is a pleasing variety about them that never palls on an enthusiast like myself. It is only when I attempt to enter on a new groove that danger is present.

"For instance, once the fancy seized me to experiment as to whether a madman could suffer from delirium tremens. I acquired it in the stereotyped way, and the result was—Pelion on Ossa.

"Fancy a maniac doubly, trebly, quadruply mad. Imagine, if you can, one who at the best of times can hardly restrain himself from open outburst, being suddenly exposed to the furious raids of a drunkard's zoological collection!

"Ornithorhynchus, the duck-billed platypus, held undisputed sway as the most curious of living animals, and ruled the rest of the lower creation with a rod of iron. Of prehistoric animals my tormentors could be reckoned by the myriad.

"As you may guess, one soon gets tired of this. Indeed, I felt that my mind would give way under the strain, if I kept it up much longer, so the experiment was dropped, as were all others which tended to work me out of my regular habits."

Then followed a list of eccentricities and crimes that, as it would put my uncle on an equal footing with Nero, Cambyses, Caligula, the Emperor Paul, or any other celebrated madman of the olden time, I shall forbear to transcribe. They cease to be ludicrous from their utter loathsomeness and cruelty. There is one statement, however, that, for the continuity of this history, it is necessary I should make mention of, as the whole of my career from this point forward hinges upon it.

"You are doubtless wondering," he continued, "where the supplies came from which enabled me to carry on this relentless war against frail humanity, knowing me to have been a comparatively poor man at the outset. I will tell you. Before I acquired the glorious malady in which I am revelling now, I did what you are doing now—ran through a fair patrimony to the uttermost farthing. It passed away quite unconsciously, and without serious efFort on my part. Acquaintances who called themselves 'friends,' forsooth, did the work, and I was a mere spectator. When their labours were over, they kindly left me to my own devices, and I did what you will do—sank from bad to worse. But there is a turning-point to every career, and I was philosopher enough to patiently await one in mine. True, I had got to the lowest rung of 'the social ladder before it came, and was playing the rôle of tramp. Most people miss their opportunities by disregarding the warnings given of their seasonableness. I did not, although mine was accorded in a vision by the devil, accompanied by a premonition that I should, thereafter, be his faithful soldier and servant until my life's end.

"But this is nihil ad rem. You would regard all my words as merely the evolution of a brain diseased and a mind unhinged. Greed of gold is upon you, and hoping for the worst, let me endeavour to satisfy your cravings.

"Go into Yorkshire, and travel up the valley of the Wharfe to near its commencement. Make the village of Teafont headquarters, and prepare for a lengthened stay; for, mind you, one must not help those who will not help themselves. You think this piece of sophism little in accord with my former statement of opinion, but remember, my mood is changeable.

"You must search the hills, on the northern flank of the dale, for six boulders arranged thus: to form the letter L; and to guard against possible duplicates, take notice that the long arm is five-and-twenty feet in length, and the shorter about twenty. This will occupy you some time, if you do not desist in disgust at the first day's failure. But supposing you are successful in the search, look under the stone which forms the angle of the letter. Thence came my second fortune. ¦

Did any one ever read such a tantalising letter, so pregnant with inconsistency, bitterness, cynicism, and villainy? With regard to the abuse, I troubled myself little about it; and as for the crimes, they had to be accepted cum grano salis. Was not the narrator a confessed maniac? But did a similar reasoning hold good in respect of that curious L-shaped collection of monoliths? It was highly improbable that it ever existed at all, except in my uncle's feverish imagination; and more so, that it should conceal a storehouse whose contents would refill my exhausted coffers.

I showed Gernstein the papers, and asked his opinion on them. The complimentary style in which they commenced elicited from him a roar of laughter, and after reading the first two or three pages, he handed them back, saying, "It you take any notice of what this precious rigmarole says, old man, I shall begin to think that lunacy runs in the family, and pack you off to Wakefield Asylum. There is just about as much sense in it as there was in Mr. Dick's petition."

"And I don't want to. Really, there can be nothing reliable after that commencement. Now look here, changing the subject slightly, are you prepared to do evening work for extra pay? Because, if you are—" and we drifted off into business topics. Gernstein's chronic good nature always led him to turn the subject when he saw that thoughts of that unfortunate legacy threatened me with an attack of the blues."

CHAPTER IX.
Reconnoitering.

I TRIED to dismiss the subject of that Wharfe-dale hoard from my mind, but, like an Irish tenant, it refused to be evicted. It clung -with the tenacity of cobbler's wax to woollen trousers, or of sycophants to a rich man.

Easter came, and with it holidays. Friday night would see me at Skipton, and Saturday morning at Teafont, so that there would be the best part of four days in which to prosecute my search, before business imperatively demanded a re-appearance in Wideford for Wednesday.

I did not go with any particular hope of success, but Teafont would be out of the regular beat of bank-holiday cheap trippers, and was, therefore, by no means a bad place to spend my short vacation in. However, as this piece of sophistry would perhaps not be equally appreciable to others, I gave no hint of my intentions to Gernstein, for fear his good-natured efforts would persuade me to desist.

Fortune beamed on my enterprise at the outset, for the conveyance that traffics between Skipton and Teafont happened to be late, so that the first night was passed at the village inn. No local person, though, seemed acquainted with the objects of my quest.

"There was a great sight o' stoans on t' fell-side, and there might be soome like an ell—or, again, there might not," was the gist of what they told. Evidently the worthy dalesmen considered time ill-spent in looking for mammoth alphabets. The price of lead and farm produce had far more interest in their bucolic eyes. A chance question on caves, too, met with no better result. "Caves there were in plenty," they grudgingly owned, "but caves were not things one cared to talk about in these parts. Leave the caves alone, and the folk who dwelt in them would leave you alone."

So I was e'en compelled to commence discovery according to my own lights. And this is what was recorded.

That Wharfedale hills are for the most part grey, with here and there a greyer patch, indicating the locality of a lead-mine. That in places green predominates, and that the said green often covers a treacherous boggy slough, which stains the trousers and injures the temper. That in other places boulders abound in lavish profusion, and that far from being contented with arranging themselves in L's alone, they can be traced, by the aid of a little imagination, as forming every letter of the English, Chinese, and Arabic alphabets.

If these facts were not enlivening, the clear air and countrified surroundings amply made up the deficiency to one who had lately emerged from the restraints of a dirty, evil-smelling manufacturing town; and I continued my excursion purely for the sake of health. And this laudable endeavour met with its just reward. On Tuesday afternoon I was sitting on a rock, meditatively filling a pipe, and looking down at the peaceful valley below. It was not exactly pretty. There was too much wild ruggedness about the bold slopes which bound it for that. But it had an air of peaceful repose, unalloyed by boisterous movements of men or animals, that was exactly in accordance with my own feelings. I stooped to scrape a match on the heel of my shoe. The surface was wet, and the match's head rubbed off with a feeble splutter. A second shared the same fate; then a bright thought struck me—all our senses are quickened by necessity—to strike it on the stone beneath me.

Again I stooped to carry this new resolution into effect, but that match was never struck. Probably it lies there to this day. This is what I looked at.

The boulder which formed my seat formed the junction of the two limbs of an enormous L. One was marked out by three stones, and was approximately twenty-five feet in length; the other was a couple of yards shorter, and had only two stones.

In an instant I was probing round the rock with my stick, and fancying that on one side the soil seemed the loosest, set to work to make an excavation there. Excited though I was, progress was necessarily slow, for unprovided with proper tools, I was fain to use what came readiest to hand, namely, a thin splinter of limestone. Getting under the boulder by degrees, a big pebble that refused to be dislodged suddenly gave way, slipped down with a rattle, and showed the entrance to a dark vault below.

My movements for the next few minutes were like those of a game fox-terrier at a rabbit-hole, scratching away as if for dear life, till the entrance was of sufficient size to admit my body. But what next? Falling débris told that the hollow was of great depth, and the faint illumination of a wax vesta showed a circular pit of a yard's diameter. Clearly this was the cache my uncle had indicated. Equally clearly it could not be investigated without a rope.

Some worn-out mine, perhaps, that.—but I do not stop then to speculate on baseless probabilities. The cry is a rope, a rope, a rope to let me down.

"Can you lend a good strong rope?" I gasped to the landlord of the inn, who, singularly enough, was the first person to meet me.

"What dost ta want roap for?" said he, Yorkshire fashion, evading a direct answer.

He handed me a good stout cart-rope and a stable lantern with a couple of tallow candles, and once more I clambered up the hill. I tied one end of the rope securely round the boulder, and lowering the other into the cavity, prepared to descend.

"Ay, lad, ah'll gie thee a roap; but ah sood noan mell'* o' them caaves ef ah wos thee. Tha'd best tak' a leet an' all†,"! he added, seeing I was determined to go, with never a thought of the foul and suffocating gases that usually collect in such places.

The descent was easier than I expected. The sides, as before remarked, were scarcely a yard apart, and in them I found a series of notches cut, which enabled me to descend, after the manner of a sweep's boy before long chimney-brushes were invented. The lantern, slung round my neck, shed a dim, flickering light, and the rope hung handy in case of need.

As to what the excavation had been originally intended for, I could form no idea It was not a lead mine, for the Wharfedale mines are nearly all horizontal "levels" driven into the hill-side, and when in rare cases the metalliferous strata are reached by a vertical shaft, it is always of larger size than the one I was now in. But other thoughts crowded speculation on this point from a resting-place in my brain. The end of the rope was reached: was it wise to proceed farther?

Unhesitatingly, yes. The rope's original office—that of a means of descent—was now a mere sinecure, thanks to the notches in the walls. By these notches alone a descent could be made—the bottom would surely be not far off now. As it was, I had come down a great distance. The feeble radiance that streamed through the aperture above had almost vanished, and had any further confirmation been needed, the rope itself furnished one. It was thirty yards long at least.

As I descended, the notches became more and more worn, as if by constant use or the devouring action of time and water, and it was with difficulty that the feet and hands retained their hold. Every step called for the greatest care and attention, lest a slip should precipitate the climber into the hidden and unknown depths below. An outward pressure against the side exerts a great sustaining influence, but its use entails great physical exertion and consequent fatigue.

I had come to a halt, almost despairing of reaching the bottom of this apparently never-ending pit, but resolving to concentrate all my energies in one final effort, waited a minute to gain strength, and then started afresh.

The first step was uneventful. The second was full of interest. My right foot swung into space; the left followed suit, crumbling away its frail support, and hands failed to prevent a fall, which terminated as falls sometimes do, in violent contact with a hard solid, and.... unconsciousness.

CHAPTER X.
On The Road.

Magistrate: And what was your destination?
Defendant: Oh, yer honour, I am on the road.
P.C. (explaining): He means he's tramping!

As may reasonably be gathered from the fact that these pages have viewed the garish light of day—in which, indeed, they were penned—I recovered from the stunning effects of the fall. Judging though, from the eclipse of the light above, the coldness of the lantern, which the burning candle had made uncomfortably hot during the climb, and the stiffness of my bruised and battered body, unconsciousness must have supervened for a considerable time. Moving with extreme difficulty, crepitation, extreme suppleness, swelling and exquisite pain told that my left forearm had broken, and before proceeding to review the situation further, it demanded attention, A sling formed of necktie and pocket-handkerchief, laboriously knotted by teeth and remaining hand, gave it a temporary support. Then a wax vesta threw a feeble radiance over the scene, and showed the lantern, like its owner, much damaged, lying not far off. The candle in it caught alight with reluctance, and enabled me to make a survey.

The cavity into which I had fallen was like an inverted funnel, of which the vertical shaft, with its notch-steps, formed the stalk.

Means of retreat there were none, unless beneficent Providence would accord to me, as it does to flies, the faculty of crawling up the under-side of an inclined plane. There was nothing for it but to stay—and die. No thoughts of escape entered my head. Gernstein, the only person who would interest himself much in my disappearance, was probably ignorant of my having left Wideford. The landlord of the inn, who had loaned the rope and lantern, might imagine me to be cave-hunting, if he troubled his stupid head about the matter at all. Certainly, he would never guess at the real state of things. Some wanderer on the hills might stumble on the newly opened shaft and succour me from above; or a gang of enterprising lead miners might drive a level from the bottom of the valley to the place where I was sitting, aided by a "New Patent Greased-Lightning Borer"—each was equally likely.

No, there was no help for it. I was caged like a rat in a long-forgotten trap, and like the rat I must perish, without even the scant satisfaction accorded to my quadrupedal parallel of calling the attention of a forgetful humanity to the fact, by the fetid emanations of animal decay.

I am not, I believe, of a peculiarly vindictive disposition, but had the corpse of my late uncle been available then, I should have jumped on it, as surely as such a proceeding would neither have seriously inconvenienced him nor materially aided me. He was the human rat-catcher who had entrapped me by a golden bait, and to him my present thanks were due. Feelings of despondency did not harass me with their fearful tortures. I was far too busily engaged in objurgatory profanity to allow them a moment's consideration.

If Mr. Merlwood's wraith hovered around me then, it must have viewed with intense satisfaction the culminating act of its earthly career.

To give free scope to my lungs, or for some other reason at present unknown, I rose from the recumbent position and stood up. Another force impelled me to take a circuit of my prison, to a running accompaniment of the aforesaid strong language. And this is what I saw—a passage leading off into the darkness away from the inverted cone under which I was standing. Curiosity is, I suppose, inherent in every nature—in mine it is certainly not absent—and the destination of the gallery was a problem which it pleased me to solve. Anyhow, I should not be worse off than before, and, happy thought! perhaps it led to my uncle's cache, and that worthy relative had been unjustly maligned. I could meet my end, if not with becoming resignation, at least surrounded by the treasure which had cost so much.

This quaint conceit pleased me, and snuffing the candle with my fingers (and burning them in the operation), I jogged on down the passage. The floor was smooth, but slimy withal, and more than once I was in imminent peril of a fall. Such an event my broken arm warned me to avoid—not from post mortem considerations, but merely as a matter of present and personal convenience.

In one place a fall of the roof apparently barred further progress, but a careful examination showed a passage over the top of the obstacle, which, if not actually convenient, was at any rate practical. With one fin in strict retirement from public service, the operation was not a pleasant one, but it was accomplished somehow—with what sacrifice of elegance and dignity, deponent sayeth not.

Thenceforward the passage was apparently interminable. Its regular symmetry was unbroken by further obstacles, and, except that it sloped slightly downwards, the difference between it and a railway tunnel was inappreciable. The second candle, which, limp and greasy, reposed in my breast-pocket, replaced its predecessor, which guttered out a wasted existence in its metal socket, and all was cheerful and regular as a funeral bell.

But the new candle inaugurated a new era in the monotonous parade. The low roof of the passage, which occasionally descended and smote my lofty crest, suddenly rose out of sight. The walls expanded till they lost themselves in the blackness of space, and I found myself in a gigantic limestone cavern.

That Nature was the architect was plain to the veriest tyro, had that standard ignoramus, who I humbly submit was not impersonated in myself, been present. That Nature's undrawn plans were still incomplete, as illustrated by the work of excavation and deposition still going on, was also noteworthy.

Retaceous streams, fed by runlets teeming from the roof, covered the floor. In places a gentle flow produced concretionary formations; and stalactites and stalagmites coalescing into pillars, formed a groined roof whose beauty and grandeur no frail human builder could dare to emulate.

Suppose not that all this vista of magnificence showed itself to me on the instant, or that I duly appreciated even what 1 saw. The inspection was slow, as the floor was singularly uneven and slimy. The light was unspeakably incompetent to shed a ray on the gloomy arches overhead; it was merely the guttering "dip" the aforesaid. The perception of the beautiful, too, is utterly lacking to one who, like the wounded seal, seeks but a comfortable place to die in.

My arm was all this time giving me exquisite pain, and the numerous other bruises and cuts with which the fall in the funnel had liberally bespattered me, were hinting significantly that they wished to be carried about no longer. The candle, too, had descended to the grade of a floating wick in a socketful of hot fat. I sat down—in a puddle, found it moist, and shifted to drier quarters, on the Irish policy that "If you can't be aisy, be as aisy as you can." I suppose any ordinary human being, under similar circumstances, would have been filled with horrible, awesome, overpowering fears. No such uncomfortable visitants disturbed me. On the contrary, I gave vent at times to laughter—rather ghastly cachinations, 'tis true, and hysterical in their merriment. Still, it was a distinct attempt at audible joyousness, and as such met with the approval of the presiding genii of the cavern. They shrieked with half-suppressed laughter in the roof, they roared behind me, they literally yelled in the distance in front; then stopping a moment or two, as if to recover breath, they broke out afresh with scarcely diminished vigour.

I do not know whether my uncle relegated a portion of his malady to me, together with that "forty pounds odd," but now that I look back on that scene it strikes me forcibly that I had more than a touch of it. The demoniacal response to my laughter was in complete accord with my reckless humour, and I bellowed forth peal after peal of guffaws, to the intermittent accompaniment of a fragment of stone on a sonorous stalactite. The boasted acoustic properties of the mammoth cave in Kentucky were mere whispers in comparison, and the cave in Dalmatia that, Pliny relates, raised a perfect storm at the dropping of a stone, dwindles into insignificance by the side of this unknown cavity of Yorkshire.

But my ghastly merriment received a sudden check. A brilliant light suddenly flashed through the gloom, and displayed a party of men advancing towards me. I use the word "men" in a most restricted sense—that of male bipeds—for that the creatures I saw before me were mortals was a stretch of credulity that I could not bring myself to.

Perhaps these were the Echoes themselves come to visit the votary who had been burning incense at their virgin shrine. Ossian tells that echoes are "the sons of rock," which would easily account for their parentage. Probably the bard studied the habits of this curious race in the inaccessible retreat that tradition ascribes to him in rocky Glencoe.

They approach nearer, and my eye falls on their peculiar garb. It is of a slatey-grey colour, made in one piece, without apparent seam or suture, and fitting tight to the body, like the cloak of the common or fishmongers' eel. I had never seen raiment of like fashion before, except in a picture, which suggested a fresh idea: I had not survived my fall. It had killed me almost instantly, and instead of waking into the same life I had enjoyed an hour before, there had been a transition. The soul, changed but slightly in form, had carried off the body, to which it was inherent, through paths by which no living mortal had ever trod, and now the accredited emissaries of a nether world approached to carry me to that kitchen range where human meat is always cooking, but never "done."

CHAPTER XI.
Retrospective And Speculative.

"He thought about himself and the whole earth,
Of man the wonderful, and of the stars,
And how the deuce they ever could have birth;
And then he thought of earthquakes, and of wars,
How many miles the moon might have in girth,
Of air-balloons, and of the many bars
To perfect knowledge of the boundless skies:
And then he thought of Donna Julia's eyes."

WHEN consciousness next came back, the visions of fiery torment which had haunted my last waking moments were dissipated at once. The return of volition was, of course, gradual. I did not wake out of that death-like faint to become in instant possession of all the mental faculties, but as I took in one after another the strange surroundings, my wonder increased.

Instead of the slimy floor of a limestone cavern, I was now comfortably stretched on "a couch with ample room and verge enough," placed against the wall of one of the snuggest apartments ever mortal slept in. A soft light from a red translucent globe in the ceiling spread a pleasing radiance over everything. The walls of some kind of stucco, with a frescoed frieze round the top, were further adorned by tastily framed oil-paintings—at least, I judged the decorations to be such, although I could liken them to no similar production that previous observation had ever brought me in contact with. There was an unstudied air of life, a perfection of colouring, and an utter absence of forced expression and posture that pointed to the work of a master hand, with supreme command over his models and mediums. The remaining furniture of this strange apartment was also "a law unto itself." It certainly bore a faint likeness to what the denizens of the outer world are accustomed to, but differed largely in point of luxury and elegance. The solid parts were fabricated from a dull-brown metal, beautifully chased and carved, and the upholstery was done in what appeared to be a fine cloth, like those rich

Eastern fabrics now so much in favour. Closer inspection proved this an error. It was metallic too. Finely woven with threads like spider-webs, it was soft as silk, and flexible as india-rubber. The very coverlet of the bed was fashioned from the same material.

Drinking in slowly every detail of the environment, my brain shook off its lethargy, and I tried to unravel the mystery. Every item of an indifferently spent life passed in review before me—a childhood in sunny Italy, devoid of care, redolent of pleasure; schooldays with their persecutions and triumphs; an epoch of travel, an elaborate vagabondage, with its attendant excitements and perils, its ever-varying change, and its desolate loneliness; then Cambridge, with its reckless joviality among merry companions. I lingered long over these University friendships with all the pleasures of retrospection, till a vision of one face, fair as it was false, came back to me. With a pang those Circean charms rehearsed themselves in imagination, and once more I beheld myself a helpless captive within their toils. Then I was free again, celebrating a new-got liberty by foolish prodigality and dissipation; then starving; then an office-slave, clutching desperately at a straw of succour which had carried me down that funnel-shaft in Wharfedale. Once more in fancy I traverse the sloping tunnel, and emerge into the abode of the Echoes, buoyed up by the ravings of delirium. Maniac laughter, answered by invisible sprites, and by others, tangible beings, fashioned after the model of the human form divine. As to what manner of men were these latter, I could form no conception. That they were endued with kindness—which is a human attribute, though unevenly distributed—had been abundantly shown.

Attracted, perhaps by curiosity, to a little-frequented part of their domain, they chanced upon a poor wretch writhing in the throes of madness: they carried him to suitable shelter. He was clothed in rags the meanest poverty would have rejected: these they denuded him of, and placed him beneath the wraps of a luxurious bed.

Surgical knowledge, too, was within their mental scope. Their protégé had not come out of the battle between life and death unscathed: his left ulna was fractured, and his body liberally bespattered with abrasions and bruises. The fracture was reduced, and the cuts repaired with a skill not to be equalled by the largest practised Galway surgeon in that free-fighting province's palmiest days.

Then I asked myself, why was all this done? Cui bono? Kind treatment would assuredly follow such careful attention. Then tired nature reasserted itself once more, and I fell asleep.

Waking with a consciousness of somebody or something moving about the room, nearly closed eyes enabled me to make an unobserved inspection. There were two men, alike short of stature and pale of face, moving silently about the apartment, busily engaged in J preparing a meal, and "tidying up" generally. They were clad in that same tight-fitting dress of slatey-grey previously observed in the rescue party, and at first blush reminded one forcibly of those many-jointed contortionists whom one sees springing up suddenly through traps in the floor of the stage in pantomimes. The costume certainly gave immense freedom of action, and after all it would possess no peculiarity in their eyes, as presumably it was the dress of their race. Fashion, after all, is but authorised eccentricity.

This is English, but it did not cause me any astonishment. I was too much prepared for the unexpected. Had these strange beings suddenly unfolded wings, and flown straight through the roof, I could have borne it with equanimity.

"I think we had better not yet," promised no present elucidation of the mystery, so I opened my eyes and said, "Ahem."

"I hope you feel better, sir," said the one addressed as Will. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I should like to know where I am, in the first place; and then to learn whose hospitality I am enjoying."

"That, sir, you will be told in due time. At present we are not at liberty to divulge anything."

Suspicious this, yet those tight-fitting garments did not conceal a tail, cloven hoofs were not enclosed in the well-shaped shoes, nor did horns project from the closely cropped crown.

"You are, sir, and again you are not," was the somewhat hesitating and Jesuitical reply; "but again I must respectfully inform you that we are strictly forbidden to give any hints as to your present whereabouts. May I offer you a little of this?" holding out a bottle and a crystal goblet.

"Thank you, sir," as he received back the glass. "And now could you fancy something solid? I have brought what the doctor ordered, and though the names of the dishes may be unfamiliar to you, they are perfectly plain and wholesome."

William smiled. "I fancy I know what you mean, sir; but what you ask for cannot be readily had here. If you will allow me, though, I can get its substitute."

He left the room for a minute or so, and returned bringing an apparatus similar to the hookah dear to the unspeakable Turk. Placing it on a little stool by the bedside, he unravelled one of its tubes, and presented me with the mouthpiece.

"None is needed, sir; simply inhale. I don't understand it rightly myself, but there are certain gases and vapours produced from the liquid in the globe which have a similar effect to the tobacco smoke you talk about."

"Oh," puff, puff, "yes, very good," puff, puff, puff. "Just a trifle strong; none the worse for that, though."

"It can easily be made milder if you wish it, sir. Permit me." And pulling the tube from the socket in which it fitted, he reinserted it in another, and asked if that suited me better.

It was an ordinary-looking letter, though enclosed in rather a quaint envelope. The address was "Anthony M. Haltoun, Esq.," no more. Nothing very surprising in their getting the name—there were several papers in my rags bearing it. The enclosure was as follows:—

"Dear Tony,—If you feel well enough, come to breakfast to-morrow. My man will fetch you, as the road is not an easy one. Pardon my rudeness in not paying you a call, but the sawbones absolutely forbade your receiving any visitors. "Yours as usual,

As has been said, I was prepared for surprises, but my stoicism could not stand this test. Jack Smith, B.A., of Cambridge, here close by! Jack Smith, my old chum, a denizen of this queer place! Had he, too, entered its boundaries, like myself, through mischance, or was he native and to the manor born? Perhaps, after all, I was on the upper earth, rescued by some unknown agency, and my queer visitors had been masqueraders condemned to play a part. Or, better still, was it all a dream, from which I had not yet awakened? No, a pinch hurts. Still, such phantoms are ofttimes most tenacious of life.

CHAPTER XII.
Conversational And Historical.

"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man, in his time, plays many parts."

"WELL, Tony, 'all the world's a stage,' they say, but I'll warrant you never thought to find me playing the part of your entertainer down here. Your travels were like to have culminated in an untimely decease, from all accounts."

"It was a narrow shave," said I, shaking hands and examining him, "and perhaps you will be good enough to tell me where I have landed. The only living creatures who have come in my way are profoundly taciturn on the subject."

"All in good time, old chap. Work first and pleasure afterwards, as the warder said to the prisoner when he sent him to the treadmill before giving him twenty-five lashes with the cat. Eat your breakfast, or, to relapse once more into 'Varsity argot, take your corn first, and then I'll endeavour to satisfy your curiosity."

I did as I was bid, seating myself opposite him at the table, and setting-to with a will, although the dishes were utterly strange to me. My entertainer had altered but little. He was the same pale-faced, intelligent-looking Jack, whose insatiable craving for accounts of foreign travel was never satisfied at Cambridge; the same small, lithe, active figure—now set off to greater perfection in its tight-fitting garb—that always lounged across the arm of a particular easy-chair in my college keeping-room. If he was less taciturn than formerly, that was probably due to his kind-hearted anxiety to set me at my ease in a situation so unlooked for.

But his manner had scarcely altered at all. He was the same impudent, matter-of-fact Jack who, on hearing a lady say, "Oh, it made my heart leap into my mouth," asked, "Did you bite it?" thereby covering himself with confusion a moment afterwards, and convulsing every one else with laughter. But we are wandering from the point.

"I left Cambridge shortly after you did, Tony," he was saying, "and then came down here almost immediately."

"Well, not by the way you came," he replied laughingly. "However, you will learn in time."

"Well, yes, partly; only for colony read nation, and for cave almost interminable labyrinth. Our habitations, and the roads connecting them, ramify under the whole of the British Isles, and in many places under the seas besides. Now, don't look incredulous, you will see all for yourself in time; and, by-the-way, that reminds me. It was facilis descensus to this nether world, which, by-the-way, is by no means the tropical one fulminated against sinners, but revocare impossible. You have taken your last look at rainy sky, snuffed your last mouthful of smoky fog, and paid your last dun all he will ever get out of you in this world; but, in exchange, you will participate in pleasures and enjoyments that will leave no room for repining."

"This is a very harsh sentence, Jack, to lock me up among these gloomy surroundings for ever. Is there no appeal from it?"

"None; but when you get to know us, you will not be so anxious to beat a retreat."

In this I ventured to differ from him, but wisely held my peace, at the same time determining to give leg-bail on the first feasible opportunity.

"Now, you're sure you won't have any more breakfast? All right then, do a smoke. We call it by a different name here, but 'baccy' was, I know, as dear to you as scalps are to a Red Indian. Now tell me all that's happened since we parted."

I gave him the whole, in full detail, which he constantly interlarded with comments of his own. Jack had developed a fund of humour during his subterranean career that remained undiscovered and untapped on the earth above.

"And now, since you have found your tongue down here, suppose you entertain me with a history of the folk I am to live among."

"Certainly; but I can only give you the outlines of it, as the bankrupt said when he paid his creditors.

"To begin, then. Till some three thousand years ago, when circumstances forced them to make an emigration, all the nations at present in Europe and India had their habitat in Asia, and spoke one language."

"Oh, skip Adam and Eve, Jack," here broke in Jacks auditor, u and as you love me, don't get prosy."

"On your own head be it, then, if this history is 1 sketchy;' and, by-the-way, my name at present, Mr. Haltoun, is Spencer—Cyril Spencer, which, I take it, is a distinct improvement on John Smith."

"Natheless, I shall continue to call you Jack. No name will ever come so glibly."

"As you please. Of course, Smith was only an alias to prevent recognition from fellow countrymen; but, after all, what's in a name? Anything will do, so long as you do not call me too late for dinner." *

An elaborately agonised groan was my only reply to this piece of stale witticism, and he continued—

"Well, I will start at a point when the inhabitants of the little island of Great Britain wore a little blue paint as their only garb, and made the breaking of one another's heads a national pastime. That they relegated this interesting pursuit to the adjacent Ireland is a fact which will not be news to you. But there were some folk to whom making life one constant fight appeared stale and unprofitable. Perhaps they were cowards, perhaps they were wise men; who shall say? Anyhow, they immured themselves in natural caves, and emerged only to recruit their supplies of food and clothing. As time wore on, they amalgamated and increased, till the natural hollows dug by nature were unable to shelter them, and they started excavations on their own responsibility. But delving with the rude tools which were their birthright was but slow and unsatisfactory work, and had not circumstances combined to lighten their toil, it cannot be doubted that their ever-increasing hordes would have once more teemed over on to the surface. The circumstances I refer to are these. Firstly, that the crust of the earth is vesicular—i.e., full of hollows, formed either by Titanitic convulsion or by water s irresistible erosion; and secondly, that nearly all these cavities are ventilated by invisible capillary air-shafts. Little by little, steadily and surely, these cave-dwellers cut themselves off from the outer world, Gradually they developed the resources at their disposal, to the exclusion of others, fostered by the light of heaven. By degrees they sealed the many entrances to their retreat, which bye-paths had converted into a labyrinthine maze, till but one was left open. A supreme moment arrived when this, too, was closed, and from then the history of the Nradas, as a nation, may be said to have commenced."

"If, as you say," I interposed, "all entrances were hermetically sealed, to what did Cambridge owe the honour of your entrance?"

"My dear Tony, don't you know 'it is rude to interrupt,' as the hangman said to a reporter who wanted to interview his patient after the 'drop' had been administered? I am just about to tell. A certain sage Nrada found the action had been premature, that the learning of his people, if not at an actual standstill, received scarcely any addition. Not only were they debarred from absorbing the ideas of other nations abroad, but they could not even keep pace with the times overhead. He accordingly suggested that a system of envoys should spy out the land, and report on its progress. Never before or since has there been such a commotion. The earth shook to her very foundations with the abundance of the clamour. Were all their rights and privileges, which had taken whole centuries to build up, to be surrendered at the instance of one man? Was their boasted privacy to be invaded by aliens from the world above, who would of a surety track the Nrada spies to their lair?

"In fine, were they going to be dictated to by one man, who thought himself wiser than his fellows? No, emphatically no, and as a mark of their disapproval they would teach him a lesson which he would never forget. They would cut him up into little bits, and distribute them as keepsakes."

"This gentle measure caused a revulsion of feeling. First one, then another glanced at his share of the philosopher, and vainly wished to join it again with a united whole. But as such desires availed little, as a mark of respect and regret they carried out his wishes, and we have had our representatives up aloft ever since."

"How do you rid yourselves of the débris resultant on excavations and so on?"

"As you are, I know, serenely ignorant on subjects botanical, let me explain to you that it is a firmly accepted belief in the outer world that plants will not grow in utter darkness. I have heard old Grapes inculcate this doctrine on his hearers in his Cambridge lecture-room, and have fairly hugged myself with the suppressed laughter of superior knowledge. We on our part find no difficulty in making plants assume the etiolated habit. Our lettuces are green with chlorophyll, and differ in no respect from the lettuces grown under the sunlight above. We simply make a difference in the culture, and grow them in granging instead of loam."

"Don't know, I'm sure, but we can find out if you are particularly desirous to know. Now our fish do differ from those which swim in the surface rivers. They are blind."

"Oh, yes," I put in, "we have heard of blind fish. They are found sometimes in disused coal-mines."

"Well done, Tony," sarcastically, "your knowledge is simply prodigious. Our blind fish, however, are of more varied orders than those miserable little abortions. Some of their ancestors lived in salt water, some in fresh. All here live in a mixture, which is neither one nor the other. It contains certain earths, which are periodically thrown in, and serve to supply the needed nutriment. But now I am tired of talking, and I am sure you must be sick of listening, so with your kind assistance we will change the subject."

"Right. And now tell me if you know anything of an uncle of mine who claims to have extracted treasure from these parts," and I narrated all I knew of that worthy man's adventures.

"No, never heard of him. He must have stumbled on the road you came down by accident, and put you on the track, merely in hopes of breaking your neck."

CHAPTER XIII.
The Temple.

"And every nation has its deity,
Some vaporous sprite, majestical withal,
To whom its devotees give fealty,
Lest haply into hell they fall."

THE next six weeks were, comparatively speaking, uneventful. My broken arm, thanks to a hypodermic injection of some fluid whose virtues I can vouch for, mended rapidly and painlessly, and the effects of the nervous shock entirely passed away. My life was rather sedentary, as the position I occupied, not being well defined by reason of delays on the part of those in authority, Jack, my confidential and only adviser, deemed it wise that I should bring myself into prominent notice as little as possible. In furtherance of this motive he made me take up my abode in his domicile, and we spent almost the whole of our time together.

Relapsing into his old eagerness for accounts of foreign travel, he would have kept me engaged on a constant monologue, had not I in my turn pressed him for details of the new sphere fate had opened out for me. But I could hardly ever prevail on him to speak seriously. He would either break out into a running commentary of witticisms on his own remarks, or else let his fancy run riot, and strike out boldly into romance. This latter trait was always consequent on a show of attention or seriousness on my part. He never could resist the pleasure of hoaxing me if he could promise himself a particle of success. With so unreliable a teacher, then, it is not surprising that 1 should prefer to seek instruction from the lips of his father.

Mr. Spencer, senior, was cast in a totally different mould from his son. He was white-haired, stumpy, and fat, and although pale like all his compatriots, he bore on his face the undoubted signs of a fondness for good living. He was not, moreover, what might be termed an intellectual man, but his knowledge sufficed for my purpose. He parted with it unwillingly, though accurately, and I could depend on every word he gave utterance to. He had a holy horror of a joke. Like Dr. Johnson, he considered a man who would perpetrate a pun capable of picking pockets. A reason for this may be deduced from the fact that he had as much idea of framing one (a pun, not a pocket) as he had of studying a solar eclipse. And with good reason, since he had never seen either.

From this pompous patriarch, then, I learned all he had to tell me. How the earth's internal heat, abstracted through deep borings, supplied the Nradas with almost everything they needed. How it was directly convertible into electricity, and thence into light, and a means of conversation at a distance. How it cooked the victuals, assisted many manufactures, heated the dwellings, and fostered vegetation., And so on, and so on. He wearied me; let me not be guilty o( doing the same by you—at least in this instance.

As I have said, nothing occurred to disturb the even tenour of my subterranean existence for six whole weeks. At their end Jack broke into my bedroom one morning—we observed the same hours as the sun metes out to those it shines on—woke me up boisterously, and said he had good news. "It's all right, old man, now."

"It's all wrong, in my opinion," replied his victim. "You might let a fellow have his sleep out and not turn up at this unearthly hour."

"'Tis the voice of the sluggard,
I hear him complain,
You awake me too soon,
I must slumber again."

carolled Jack, blithely. "Now, you will get no peace, so you had much better wake up and try to look pleasant. See here," displaying a document, "I have got leave for you to live here."

"Very kind of you, I am sure, but supposing I wish to see the light of day once more?"

"It was no choice between staying where you are and returning whence you came," he replied gravely. "Without this permission to live among the Nradas, you would—er—"

"Hush! Walls have ears. We had better abstain from discussing these questions—here, at least," he added, in a whisper. Then raising his voice, he continued, "Radoa is supreme among the Nradas, both in things temporal and in things spiritual. He is at once Ruler and Deity. I have commands to bring you this day into his temple."

Jack had waxed quite solemn over the latter part of his speech, and I looked at him wonderingly for the reason. He gave none, though, and abruptly changed the conversation into another channel.

He led me into another room, which was strange to me, and drew attention to the pictures on the walls.

They were magnificent pictures, and nearly all of ladies, dressed very like the men I had seen, except for a short skirt suspended from the waist and hanging to the knees, the arms and neck being bare. The collector was evidently a connoisseur of female beauty, as none were plain and some were lovely. One in particular, who figured twice in different attitudes, attracted my attention. Had I not been made a soured cynic by a not yet forgotten jilt, assuredly I should

As it is, I stifle the rising of the tender passion, but cannot repress a hope that it may one day be my fate to meet the originals of those pictures.

So we walked off to the seat of Radoa's worship. Never did denizens of the outer air behold such a temple. No architect would dare so magnificent a conception, and feeble words of mine cannot portray a tithe of its glories. With a blot of ink for paint, and a pen wherewith to lay it on, the task could not be done; but I will endeavour to give a faint hint, a shadowy outline, of what impressed me chiefly.

Imagine, then, a vast hollow cylinder of stone blocks 400 feet in diameter and 220 or 230 feet high, surmounted by a hemisphere of the same material. The blocks, symmetrical in size, were each six feet by four, yet every one bore on it an exquisitely chased carving in relief. Every one was a cameo, so the sculptor's labour had been a colossal one. Each block bore a distinct picture, yet it related in some way or other to those immediately beside it, so that the subjects passed from one to another in inappreciable gradations. Thus there was a transition from adoration of the immortals by those term of years, in short to every kind of human labour, mental or physical, without the slightest break in the chain.

Near the ground these symphonies in stone went into almost microscopic detail, the delicacy of the figures being perfectly marvellous.

Higher up they grew larger and bolder; in the domed roof they were considerably beyond life-size. So the effect, when viewed from below, was as if all were of equal magnitude and proportion. The floor of this vast fane was bestrewn with seats of the purest white marble, which, instead of being in straight rows, were in regular undulating zigzags. The effect was novel, and after its strangeness had worn off, pleasing.

Facing these seats and the principal doorway, which lay behind them, was a kind of chancel. Like the nave, it too was domed, and formed an exact reproduction on a minor scale of one-half the larger edifice. Supporting the entrance to its arc were two polished, glistening, marble-like, colossal stones, one on either side, fashioned into the semblance of the human form divine. Here again, words utterly fail me. The marvellous art of these people, who participated in none of the retrogressions of the Middle Ages, brooks no description from a descendant of Medieval ignorance. Again I repeat,that this is of necessity but a tyro's sketch. The cunning art of the statuary had made his labours reproduce two typical symbolisms. One was dark—black as darkest night; the other was fair—light as stainless marble could make it. One figure was that of a woman—an ideal woman that one could dream of as beauty personified; the other a man, ugly, deformed, hateful. Both were fascinating. The charm of her life-like repose, inherent sweetness, and glorious modelling was only to be paralleled by the devilish malignity of his awful features and threatening pose. To fix the eyes on one was an impossibility: the other imperatively called for immediate attention.

Within this fearful and beautiful portal none but the priests dared to tread. The sacrilegious foot of the laymen could never cross its invisible barrier. But there was still another spot inviolate from both. This was a niche, tiny in comparison with its giant surroundings, yet spacious withal, consecrated to the deity and tenanted by him alone. At present it was empty. "Soon," Jack says, "its occupier will appear."

Low, soft music begins to make itself heard, rising and sinking like the swell on the seashore. Anon it stops. The brilliant light fixed at the apex of the larger dome, which shed a glowing radiance over all, disappears, and its place is occupied by serpent-like streams of luminance which traverse the walls. Their form is spiral, and they continually rotate. I am aware of this, but can scarcely disabuse myself of the idea that the entire edifice is revolving: the allusion is too strong. Again the expressive music is heard, now jubilant, now mournful; now rising to a crash of joyful triumph, now dying away in a wail that finds scarcely an echo to answer it. A figure emerges from among a knot of priests, and makes his way to a raised dais. As I am not prepared to accept the Nradas' religion in place of my own, I feel licensed to criticise, and maybe to scoff. The preacher's appearance gives room for both. He is a squat little man, with a villainous expression of countenance, and-a furious cast in one eye. Apparently both his organs of vision were weak and unserviceable; for, like hot-house plants, he kept them under glass. His dress, too, was unclerical. It differed in no wise from that of the male members of his congregation. But I was soon to learn that

If the reverend gentleman's looks were not impressive, his words and surroundings were certainly so. Delivered under that unequalled dome, than which the arch of heaven is scarce more wonderful, with the dramatised expression of an Irving and the eloquence of a Wilberforce, they commanded an attention impossible for one of the auditory to resist. When I conned over his opening words afterwards, they reminded me of the rhyme:—

"The world was once a baking ball
Of dirt and other nasty things;
And then there were no men at all,
So clever Mr. Tyndall sings."

He was reminding his hearers of the antiquity of their faith. Their deity was old when the first amphibian crawled from the water and gazed around him on unknown land. He was unchangeable: the millions of years which had elapsed since then had altered him not one whit. His hand was far-grasping, yet merciful withal. Should he spread a net for sinners, all efforts were futile to escape its meshes; yet the justice of his sentence was always tempered by its lenity.

And so on, and so on. I will not weary earthly readers by further repetition of the tenets of what they will consider a paltry faith, as set forth by one of its servitors. They shall have one sip, though, from the fountain-head.

When the preacher had ended his discourse, I made some trivial comment on it to Jack, who was seated alongside me.

Mr. Spencer would evidently not be dragged into a conversation, so I was e'en compelled to commune with my own thoughts again. Again the music stole upon us like the soughing of a storm gathering among distant hills, and then suddenly it burst out into a triumphant paean that made one brimful of expectancy. It could herald nothing short of the promised advent of Radoa. The lights in the vast nave died away, and the chancel alone remained illuminated. Here the serpentine motion was further enhanced by a constant chameleon-like change of colour. Lit by the radiance of this kaleidoscopic and ever-altering light, the niche was so transcendentally brilliant, that no vestige of a shadow found place in it. Yet, for all that, its occupant appeared without my seeing his entrance, though my eyes were glued to the spot. This incarnate deity created an involuntary feeling of awe. His stature was majestic—when compared with that of his worshippers, who are all diminutive—being considerably over six feet. His dress was hardly regal, though. It consisted merely of a loose and flowing robe, girt about the middle with a golden zone. His face, if not exactly a handsome one, was full of power! The tightly compressed lips and square chin told of firmness of purpose; the deep-seated eyes and massive forehead promised that the purpose should not be frivolous—their testimony of mental ability was indubitable. But he speaks. I alone of all the crowd am not kneeling with covered face. My reason for this is twofold—first and foremost, curiosity; and in a second less degree, pride. I will not humble myself before one who can be no more than human, and of whose supernatural powers I am more than sceptical.

"0 Nradas!" peals forth a voice that bursts like a thunder-clap on our ears. u 0 Nradas! ye did well to rescue the stranger who came among you, as ye thought, uninvited. It was our will that he should come, that your kindly feelings might be tested. They have not failed under the ordeal, and be assured that Radoa will not be chary to reward.

"We withheld our sanction to the residence of this intruder to our domain, for another test. We were desirous of seeing whether any, on their own responsibility, would dare to set the matter at rest. Again ye erred not in the trial. To thee," he continued, addressing himself more particularly to his only foreign auditor, "to thee, we in our mercy accord permission to remain within our realms, to be numbered among our subjects, to enjoy their pleasures, and to share their toils. Think not to eat the bread of idleness. Thou must contribute thy quota towards the welfare of the State. An thou wilt not, or canst not work with thy brain, thou must e'en be content to labour with the hand. We give reward for the former; appoint taskmasters for the latter. Furthermore, seek not to escape. Thou wilt find no avenue. Thou art immured with us till thy soul parts company with its earthly husk. Shouldest thou even attempt to leave us, futile though such effort would necessarily be, thy life is forfeit. Remember this."

And Radoa was gone, as suddenly as he had appeared. He had literally vanished into thin air, for all I could see.

CHAPTER XIV.
Mona.

"That I might all forget the human race,
And hating no one, love but only her,
Whose large blue eyes, fair locks, and snowy hands
Might shake the saintship of an anchorite."

TILL after my formal naturalisation as a Nrada, I had been carefully kept in the dark as to my whereabouts. Hints had been let drop that the cave in Wharfedale was not exactly "next door," but that the maison Spencer, the great temple, and the large conglomeration of houses and factories of the town of Flangerrode were beneath the New Forest, I had never dreamed. Yet such was the case. Whilst still insensible I had been conveyed, by a kind of overhead railway, at express speed, a distance of over two hundred miles!

Mr. Spencer, senior, gave me this piece of information as if there were nothing startling in it, and I did my best to look as if it were not a matter for surprise.

"Not very extensive in your estimation, I dare say, Mr. Haltoun. It has a trifle over ten thousand inhabitants, but there are twice as many within a ten-mile circuit round it."

"And are all the houses built of stone like this, or do some people excavate for themselves?"

"Nearly all of them are built," he replied. "Stone can be had for the carrying, whereas excavating from the solid rock takes far more trouble than building. Besides, we know of acres and acres of cave-room yet untenanted."

"We expect an addition to our family circle to-day, Tony," broke in Jack here. He foresaw a statistical discussion that would fail to amuse him.

"Mona, my sister, is coming back. She has been staying with some friends in the country."

"Well, away from Flangerrode," he said, laughing, "if you like that better. She has been on a visit to an old school-friend who is coming back to us for a bit. Mind you don't fall in love. I'm a trifle gone in that quarter myself."

"Meaning on the school-friend. Have no fears for me. You see before you one of the most determined bachelors in Nradaland."

"Well, I wouldn't make too sure, if I were you. Of course Laura Crame treated you badly; we all know that. But in fresh fields and pastures new, save the mark, there's no telling what may happen."

To which piece of philosophy I made no reply. The vision of a certain picture of this said sister of Jack's—I gave no thought to her friend—which I had gazed on many and many a time, haunted me. It had the power to make a heart seared and scarred throb with more vivid pulsations than it had known for many a long day. In fact, I had almost fallen in But stop. Let us examine the young lady herself.

She came exactly when she was expected, accompanied by her friend and her maid. The two latter were vastly alike in ugliness. Mona Spencer was, without exception, the loveliest woman I ever set eyes on, whether face to face in the flesh or in a dream. I hardly like attempting to describe her. It seems a profanation for a baby pen like mine to attempt such a flight. But as our destinies have been partly woven together it must be done, else would this plain narrative be still more piteously incomplete.

Miss Spencer is in stature far superior to most of her countrywomen, or men either for that matter, though in England she would be considered a trifle—no more—above the middle height of her sex. Her head is crowned by a wealth of hair, which a casual observer would style auburn, though that word does not nearly describe it. It was a colour of its own—some beauteous and indescribable tint never met with before, and ergo never accorded a position in the catalogues of word-makers.

Immediately below lay her face—which is a fact so commonplace as to need no comment—and the face was ornamented as follows: A pair of eyes which might have been blue or grey, but were neither, seeing that they, like the hair, were a law unto themselves. They never seemed twice alike. Every glint of the light disclosed some new beauty. In fact, to use the words of that old and unknown writer who gave us the "Thousand and One Nights' Entertainments "—

"Her eyes, God said to them, ( Be'—and they were, Afflicting men's hearts with the potency of wine." A nose straight, well formed, purely Grecian, and a delicately-cut mouth, gentle, yet capable of showing considerable sternness.

Now suppose these useful adjuncts clothed and surrounded by a skin white as ivory, yet more transparent; soft as satin, still firm and rounded; and the whole forming a head poised with more grace than the Medicean Venus has, on a neck finer than hers of Milo. Having done so, try to picture to yourself the result, You fancy you could do so? No; let me assure you that you have failed. Mere mortals cannot do impossibilities, and the data are painfully insufficient.

Well, to continue. I have said that the fairer sex of the Nradas left the arms and neck bare, after the manner of ladies in evening dress above ground; also that their costume assimilated to the men's, save for the addition of a skirt. In these particulars Mona followed the example of her countrywomen, and if at first I had thought it somewhat inelegant in them, her appearance speedily made me alter my opinion. There are more ways than one of adjusting even the plainest of garments. Witness the hideous garb affected by those self-devoted women, sisters of mercy. Some accentuate their already too plain features by its uncompromising simplicity. Others, though still rigidly adhering to the canons of their order, manage to don their raiment with such studiously concealed art, that although one cannot precisely point out wherein the improvement lies, one is satisfied that it is existent.

So with Mona Spencer. For the life of me I could see no deviation in the uttermost tittle from the regular Nrada fashion; yet it must have been there, for all that. For the dress showed off her lithe and rounded form to perfection, and till then I swear I never saw the most befitting garb for women.

Say you that this is evidently a case of love at first sight? I repudiate the accusation with scorn. Had I not steeled myself against all the fascinations of womankind in memory of a bygone betrayal? But this I will grant you. I did fall in love at second sight—that is, after she had exchanged greetings with her father and Jack, and then turned with something of curiosity to me—hopelessly, wildly, with all the ardour of a novel-reading undergraduate in his salad days.

"Whether she did not see, or would not,
Or like all very clever people could not,"

little recked I. Sufficient for the time was the sweet charm of her presence and the sound of her voice. To give her all credit, she used the latter incessantly in asking me questions; but how prosaic they were!

Some of her questions, expressed with a naivety and simplicity which there was no gainsaying, were somewhat embarrassing; for instance, "Have you ever been in love, Mr. Haltoun?"

Powers of impudence! lend me your aid, thought I, as Jack set up an audible chuckle, and his sister looked round at him inquiringly.

"Well, let me see. My first love, I think, was my nurse's sister, for whom I conceived a most ardent affection when scarcely two years old. They tell me I was utterly inconsolable for three whole hours after she married the macaroni man round the corner. The next was—"

"Oh, never mind straining your memory to recall any more of them, old fellow," broke in

"Thanky," said Mr. Spencer. "And now suppose, young woman, you clear out." (Unfeeling brutes some brothers are.) "Tony and I have a lot of business to talk about."

"Well, what do you think of her, old man?" he asked, as soon as the door closed.

Here Mr. Spencer gave vent to a burst of stentorian laughter that effectually prevented speech for at least a couple of minutes.

"I meant Freda Wilde, my sister's friend, sir, whom you seem to have completely overlooked."

"Wrong again," with another shout of merriment. "I did, and you favoured her with a bow cold and formal enough to chill a pair of nutcrackers."

I am dimly conscious of having glanced at a smug-faced little girl, blessed with an inane smirk, and of having turned away promptly to gaze enraptured at the Phidian face of her companion. I recall this to memory silently, and say serenely, "Well, you presented me in such a chill, off-hand manner, that after all the eulogiums I had heard you pronounce on her before, it seemed better to let you enjoy your treasure solus, whilst I played gooseberry with the sister."

"Oh, most good-natured sir," said Jack, "how deeply should I feel indebted to you could I bring myself to believe so unlikely a tale! Unfortunately for its truth, though, both Freda and myself were engaged in looking at you the whole time and amusing ourselves in reading your unspoken thoughts. Tony, man, when you admire a young lady, never open your fly-trap if you don't wish to eject words from it. It gives one an appearance of rusticity."

"Confound your impudence!" said I, and a book deftly "heft" across the room grazes Mr. Spencer's head, and on its prompt return journey passes me innocuously and "stubs" itself against a marble statuette in a niche in the wall.

"Look what you have done now," I added, as the image, after tottering an instant on the balance, fell heavily to the floor.

"Shan't I drop in for it just!" groaned the culprit, dismally, "knocking the guvnor's graven images to earth. We had better divide the blame, don't you think?" generously.

"Thanks, but I am not ambitious. It is a judgment on you for making rude remarks to your neighbour. Besides, I am going for a stroll now."

"Day-dreaming," suggests my cynical friend, as the door closes; and perhaps he is right. If I do not construct châteaux en Espagne, it is from want of help from the surroundings, but "villa residences" in a suburb of Flangerrode, the metropolis of Nradaland, portray themselves with refreshing vividness.

Mona and I came to be thrown upon one another's society a great deal after this, and as Spencer père rarely "showed up" outside his own private den except at meal-times, and Jack was too fully occupied in his own affairs to meddle with those of his sister, naturally we became very intimate. Propinquity ripens friendship like an Italian sun, but as yet it had not made the lesser bond blossom into the greater one of love, at least on her side. On almost every subject we conversed with the utmost freedom, but did my language in the least verge on the amatory, an amused smile at once warned me to desist.

"It is no use your making those pretty little speeches to me, Tony," she would say. "Reserve them for some one else. We know one another too well."

But if neither father nor brother viewed my friendship with Mona with displeasure, nor regarded it as anything more than purely Platonic, there was one person who certainly did, and he was a cousin, one Richard Ellin, who hated me quite as cordially as I detested him. He was a good-looking man—dark, handsome, and well set up—-but there was a something in his clean-cut features that betrayed the malignant devilry lurking behind them, only awaiting a suitable opportunity to spring forth into life. Jack had warned me of him.

"Never you rub up against that man Ellin," said he, "for as sure as ever you do, you will be the one to come off second best." And Jack as usual was right, although I put his words to the test before I gave them complete credence.

But as yet we were outwardly friendly, thanks to Ellin's machinations. He would not let me fasten a quarrel on him, but was always studiously polite and deferential. Even in his most cutting sarcasms he would affect to pay a compliment. The worst of it was, too, he was so confoundedly clever that I could never pay him back in kind. His knowledge on most subjects was more than superficial, and on many it was profound, so that from whatever vantage-ground I tackled him, he was sure to emerge from the contest a conqueror.

Mona, who was honesty personified, viewed him with outspoken dislike, and from this I derived no little comfort, though he always visited a slight from her by a corresponding, though veiled, insult on me. But we congratulated ourselves on a speedy release from his disagreeable presence. Disturbances had occurred on one of the confines of Radoa's dominions, and an expeditionary force was shortly to proceed thither to quell it. Ellin was under orders to join himself to it in the capacity of commander.

CHAPTER XV.
An Excursion.

"The taste for wandering is shared
Alike by thief and millionaire.
Each would desist if so he dared,
Though each doth move for change of air."

"TONY," said Jack, handing me a paper one morning, "here is an order for you and me to accompany that beast Ellin on his mission."

"Is there?" said I, lazily. "It is to be feared that Mr. Ellin will not have the pleasure of enjoying my elevating society, as I mean to stay where 1 am."

"Impossible, my dear fellow. It is Radoa's own command, and no one ever disobeys him."

"Well, Tony, there must be an exception to every rule, and I am that exception."

"Hush, and look here." He scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to me. I read, "If you do not obey, instant death will be your lot. Remember, Radoa is ubiquitous.

Perhaps he has heard what you have just said. But as surely as I write this, if you are found in Flangerrode to-morrow, you will be saved the annoyance of further refusals."

I glanced up at the writer to see if he was trying to hoax me. But no; that serious look on his face was too realistic to be assumed for a joke. He must be in earnest; so I said, in as offhand a manner as possible, "Oh, very well, then; but remember, I am no soldier. What do you expect me to carry? A bow and arrows or a club, or is it a boomerang?"

"Don't fret yourself about, that," said he, evidently much relieved at my giving way to his wishes. "The expedition" with sarcastic emphasis on the word, "will only consist of two others besides Ellin and ourselves, so we shall 'rely on our orations' rather than our muscles. The Nradas are not a warlike nation. Don't you remember, it was their hatred of fighting which caused them, in the first instance, to seek shelter beneath the land which was glutting itself with slaughter?"

And so we set out; during the first part of the journey being whisked along gently and swiftly by the overhead rope-railway, which I mentioned before, and afterwards trudging afoot through regions of gloom and damp which seemed never to have been tenanted. A tiny electric lamp, fed by an accumulator, cast a dim light on the track, along which the guide strode unhesitatingly. He was an old man, white-haired and bent, yet he stepped out so briskly along the rugged path that it taxed all our energies to keep up with him. Sometimes the route lay through vast caverns, whose dismal vaults reverberated with the mimic thunders of our footsteps. At others it led between the dank and rocky walls of rifts whose virgin quiet it seemed almost a profanation to break. Here and there a more symmetrically carved tunnel pointed to the handiwork of man. But such was rare; for the most part, the way had been delved by the mighty hand of Nature. Just a brief halt for refreshment, and then on, on remorselessly the aged guide led, his legs, like those of a Scotch gamekeeper, seemingly untireable. For myself,

"Certainly, if you wish it," was the ready response. "But if you can hold out for one mile more we shall reach a better caravansary than this dark and doleful solitude."

"I'll try to manage it," said Jack, and once more our weary cavalcade got into motion. The mile must have been a very long one—at least, its length seemed almost interminable, but at last the path entered a rugged cavern, and the guide stopped, as if at fault. He gave vent to a shout that awoke every echo in the place, but elicited no further response.

"What, David Strother? Didn't he die years ago, in Flangerrode, by order of Radoa?"

"No, Mr. Spencer. David escaped when under sentence, but he has endured sufferings ten times worse than death since. He has lived for nearly fifteen years in company only with his remorseful thoughts, without thrice seeing a human face."

"So should all murderers suffer," said Ellin. "But come," he continued, "if David will not answer our calls, we must hunt him up."

"This way, sir, then," said the guide, once more taking the lead. "I am pretty certain of the direction, from a description that was given me. Look," he added, a minute or two later, "here is a track; it must be his." And it was. The dumb evidence of human passage led to a little alcove in the side of the cavern, which, with a little adventitious aid, had been converted into a rude hut. It had on the face of it no traces, however, of living occupant: all was still, quiet, and dark. Awed by the reception, chilled perhaps by some prescience of evil, we drew near silently, and waited at the open doorway till the guide who had entered it should beckon us to follow him.

He was not long gone before he rushed through the doorway, with the cold perspiration of horror streaming down his ashen face, and his short, stubby hair literally bristling with fright.

"What is it, man?" said Ellin, coolly. "You look as if you had seen a ghost. Is Strother dead?"

"Oh," said Ellin, indifferently; and taking the lamp from its trembling bearer, he led the way inside, and we followed. The sight before us fairly crystallised me with horror. Stretched on a rude stone bench against the wall lay a figure which was presumably that of a man, although it was little more than a naked skeleton, evidently at the last gasp. A plate of rough delft lay beside him, dry and empty; in fact, the only species of nutriment in the hut was some water in a pitcher, which lay out of the occupant's reach. Evidences of ailment other than exhaustion consequent on starvation, there were none, and our first efforts were to administer food from our own stock. But without avail. The feeble lamp of life revived sufficiently to give one dying flicker, which enabled the wretched vessel that contained it to move slightly; but the effort was a final one. The emaciated limbs contracted themselves into one last shudder, and the spirit of David Strother departed for its everlasting destiny, leaving its frail coverlet watched over by a band of chance travellers.

We looked on awhile in a silence which Ellin first broke. "Fitting end for a murderer," he said, in a voice so cold and unimpassioned that I could have struck him for it. If the crime had been monstrous, truly its expiation was more than proportionate. The untold torments of the living tomb in which the poor wretch had lived for years, without sight of trees or birds, without contact with fellow-humans either morally excellent or steeped in turpitude; in a Cimmerian darkness that was almost tangible; devoid always of everything but bare necessities, and latterly of these also; left alone with his own haunting thoughts and fears, his fate was truly a terrible one, without parallel, hellish.

Jack's expressive eyes, usually sparkling with merriment, shone with a tender light of pity as he gazed on the sad spectacle, and the others of our party, with the exception of its leader, shared his sentiments to the full. But Ellin's impassive features showed no trace of emotion other than might be called up by a little vulgar curiosity, and as he turned indifferently away to give orders for the preparation of a meal and suitable resting-places, my dislike for him grew stronger than ever. One may be a cynical man of the world, schooled in the mighty seminary of society to repress all trivial emotion, but absolute heartlessness, which only finds an echo in similar dispositions—which, luckily, are rare—is simply loathsome.

I need dwell but little on the remainder of our peregrination. Three days' further travelling brought us into a labyrinth inhabited by a section of the Nrada nation little elevated above the condition of the "beasts that perish." Strenuously refusing to accept any innovations on the knowledge of their forefathers, they had sunk into a state of sordid savagery alike repulsive and pitiful. Luminants were scarcely known amongst them; indeed, many lived and died in utter darkness, like Plato's Troglodytes, regretting not that light which they had never seen. But although sunk to such depths as to be apathetic about everything except the bestial pleasures of eating and sleeping, some agitator, more desirous of fame than personal safety, had contrived to sow discord amongst them, and gathering together a party at his back, had set Radoa's shadowy despotism at defiance, and proclaimed a republic.

Now, the practical effect of this upon the nation, was as great as the revolution at Pitcairn Island was upon the Government which assembles at St. Stephen's, Westminster. It caused mirth to some, and gave others, whose knowledge of geography was limited, a shadowy idea of a terra incognita. But to allow it to go on unchecked and unchided was contrary to all the canons of Radoa's unwritten code. Consequently Ellin's expedition was on its return journey to Flangerrode augmented by one man, no longer the blustering demagogue who, through sheer wantonness, had incited a parcel of ignorant bumpkins to treason, but a cowed, trembling wretch wending his shackled way to a tribunal which would view his offence with no lenient eye. At first he inspired me with no other feeling than a slight one of disgust at his currish cowardice, but an observation of Jack's made me view the capture in a different light.

"I'm sorry this respected cousin of mine has laid hands on that scamp so easily, Tony."

"Well, I am not personally very anxious to hail him by a closer relationship than that of cousin."

"As he has been so eminently successful in his mission, Ellin will now get a remunerative appointment, which will remove the only obstacle to his marriage with Mona—impecuniosity."

"But she doesn't—er—love him. In fact, the feeling between them is on her side, at any rate, near akin to hatred."

"Very likely, but I'm afraid that does not influence the case. He admires Mona intensely, as you know."

"And the guv'nor, who despises sentimentality, will consider him a most eligible parti."

Here's a pretty coil, thought I. If old Spencer looks after the loaves and fishes to that extent, it argues ill for my chances. Then aloud, "I say, Jack, can't you put me in the way of earning my own living?"

"Phe—w," a long-drawn whistle, expressive of intense amusement. "That's the way the wind blows, is it? I thought as much," he added, nodding sagely. "But wait till we arrive at Flangerrode again, and we'll see what can be done. Your experience in different countries should be of immense service here, if you can only impart it to others as cleverly as you have to me."

Ellin joined us at this point, which put a stop to our conversation; so I gripped Jack's hand in silent acknowledgment, and relapsed into taciturnity and thought. Cerulean demons were hovering in crowds hard by, but a newborn hope resisted all their endeavours to effect a landing.

CHAPTER XVI.
Diamonds.

FOR the first time during the whole course of my chequered career I became a success—as a lecturer. The subjects on which I held forth were many and varied, the language in which they were set forth was crude and uncouth; for the gift of oratory is accorded to but few, and certainly not to me; but the reception of my discourses was indescribably flattering. At first I had entered into the pursuit with little zest, having small confidence in my own powers; and when I found myself before a crowded assembly instead of the beggarly array of empty benches which might reasonably have been anticipated, even that little waned. My courage oozed out of my finger-ends—or some other less-known channel—"stage fright" shook every limb like an ague, and an embryo lecturer had a narrow shave of never blossoming into the full-grown animal. I tried to bolt. Jack endeavoured to hold me by main force, but his strength was unequal to the task.

"Come back, Tony, and don't make a fool of yourself. It will feel all right when once you are under way."

Others came to his aid, and perforce I had to comply with their wishes; and, after all, it was not so very dreadful. For after the first few sentences, delivered with laboured nervousness, the words came glibly enough, and the Nradas listened with breathless attention as I warmed up to the subject, and described to them, with the vividness of an eye-witness, the magnificent beauties of the valley of Mexico. Afterwards the task became most congenial, and the lectures were prepared with an assiduity that initiated an utterly new phase of my character.

One afternoon I was endeavouring to distil from the heterogeneous pot-pourri of my brain sufficient facts to form a sketchy discourse on the ruins of prehistoric Egypt. They surrendered themselves very sparingly and grudgingly. The disposition of the gigantic figures at Aboo-Simbel was troubling me, when Jack opened the door and marched in.

"Can't just for a minute or two, I must just finish this note on Aboo-Simbel; but memory refuses to be moved."

"Perhaps I can help. You yarned to me a lot about the temple there when we were at Cambridge. Let's see, now, you pass through a doorway twenty feet high, into the reception chamber, which measures fifty-seven feet by fifty-two, and about thirty high," and so on.

"Oh, not at all," deprecatingly; "it lets most things slip like a sieve, only that happened to interest me at the time. But now chuck down your pencil, and leave Egypt for the Egyptians, and be sociable for once in your life. I'm going to take a 'day off' to-morrow, and want you to join me in an excursion to Yarreos."

"Mona," mimicked Mr. Spencer. "Ah, that alters the question; you'll come. Oh dear, what a humbug the man is!" he added, flipping a ball of paper into my face, as I sat absent-mindedly gazing at nothing. "Why could you not confess at once that it is to the sister's society that I shall owe yours? Confound the man, he's dreaming still. Tony," severely, "if you don't wake up promptly and listen to my elevating conversation, which you have been sublimely indifferent to for the last ten minutes, there will be trouble in the land."

Thus exhorted, and knowing that there would be no peace unless he had his own way, I reverted once more to sublunary affairs and hazarded a "yes" interrogatively.

"Well, as you haven't attended to a single thing I've been saying, we must begin over again. Mona and Freda Wilde will both accompany us, but as you seem rather churchyard)' just now, perhaps we'd better have another man. What do you say to my fascinating cousin now, Mr. Ellin? He would, I'm sure, be most attentive, and would spare you all the necessity for manufacturing small talk, if you only hinted to him that your time would be fully occupied in looking at diamonds."

"That cock won't fight, Mr. Spencer. That you hate the amiable individual in question as much as I do is a notorious fact, so don't try to persuade me that he will receive an invitation. And do you know it's just on the cards that we may manage to journey happily without him."

"All right, Tony, you are awake now, and that was all I aimed for. Come and let's talk it over with the girls and make arrangements."

"Why, the diamond mines we are going to visit?" I replied, surprised at her question.

A look of utter and blank astonishment—" Jack must have been hoaxing you," she said at last. Then to that person, "What fables have you been telling about diamonds, my wicked brother?"

"None that I know of," replied that relative, turning towards us. "I merely hinted to him that we were going to a diamond manufactory to-day; but perhaps he never heard me; he was day-dreaming like an owl," and having thus civilly delivered himself, Mr. Spencer again devoted his entire attention to Miss Wilde.

"And does he expect me to believe that diamonds are manufactured here, Mona?" I asked incredulously.

"Well," drily, "it would not cause very much more dismay in the world which is over our heads, than would a European war."

"I wish, Tony, you would be less enigmatical. By a European war you wish to symbolise, I suppose, a great national calamity, but what connection that has with the manufacture of diamonds—" and an uplifting of long curved lashes and an expressive gesture of snowy shoulders amply completed the sentence.

I endeavoured to explain, to the best of my ability, that the only diamonds I had heard of before, were those torn from a reluctant earth by the hand of man, with an enormous expenditure of time and labour; that on this account they were of immense value, as rare things always are; and that if the supply were suddenly made inexhaustible and easy of access, their worth would depreciate, and the costermonger s daughter could handle cabbages with fingers sparkling with gems, a sacrilege which would make the ladies of the richer classes go half-frantic through very disquietude of spirit.

"Here we are at last!" exclaimed Jack, leading the way to a range of low buildings abutting from the side of a spacious cavern. The exterior gave no sign of the promised magnificence within, nor was the process of manufacture itself one of particular scenic interest. There was large supply of coal or graphite—I know not which—a little silica and ferric oxide, and several carboys of a yellow-coloured, evil-smelling liquid, which was a sulpho-phosphate of carbon. The apparatus in use was crude; indeed, it had not been altered one whit for years and years, and the workpeople seemed to pursue their labours governed by that simplest of all methods, "rule-of-thumb." Pure carbon, formed from the ready sources at their disposal, was commingled thoroughly with small portions of oxides of silicon and iron, reduced to a powder in a big mortar, and then acted on by the solvent. For small crystals this was all that was deemed necessary, but for larger specimens pressure was necessary. This, applied through an ordinary piston, was obtained in a thoroughly simple though rather unique manner. There was a freezing-machine—in principle something after the fashion of Carry's—which, congealing a body of water, caused it to expand and force down the piston on the imprisoned sulpho-phosphate of carbon. Proportionate to the increase of pressure was the amount of solid matter taken up, till a certain degree of super-saturation was reached which had never been exceeded.

Things were so regulated that at this point no carbon should be left in the solid state. The pressure was now relieved, much of the liquid vapourised by reason of the intense heat produced by the compression, and transparent crystals of carbon—diamonds, that is—began to appear at the bottom of the vessel. If left to their own devices, these were octohedral, or, more correctly speaking, in clusters of octohedra; but by some other process, which I did not understand, though they assured me that it was supremely simple, the crystals could be made to assume almost any desired shape.

The fabled and real treasures of Golconda were nothing to this mere stock-in-trade; yet the Nradas think it of small account. They never wear diamonds as ornaments; and why should they? It would be as absurd for them to do so, as for the fashionable beauties of London to use beer-bottles (which have no great intrinsic value in that metropolis) as necklaces, in imitation of their sisters in the district surrounding the sources of the Niger.

The "precious stones" were of use for two purposes. First and foremost as a "shoeing" to tools, such as boring drills, which are used to penetrate hard material; and secondly, as a means of traffic with the outer world. As may be supposed, they are put into circulation for this latter purpose sparingly, to prevent idle speculation as to their probable birthplace, but by dint of transportation to spots far distant from the centres at which they arrive, and selling them at low prices to dealers who are content to keep silence as to the origin of their purchase part of the bargain, detection has hitherto been eluded. And in my humble opinion it ever will be so, through that avenue at any rate.

CHAPTER XVII.
A Temple Of Thespis.

"A squeak's heard in the orchestra as the leader draws across
Th' intestines of the agile cat, the tail of noble hoss."

"To tramp on the stage with a buskined foot
To some is meat and drink;
But for me, I like to sit in the 'gods,'
And look at the show, and think.

"I suck my orange and dream of the men
Who before me I see portrayed;
And sometimes I think 'twould be better by far
If at home their doubles had stayed."

SOMEONE who is sitting in an easy-chair near me as I write these lines has exclaimed, on my telling her the subject of this fresh chapter, "You are getting fearfully disconnective. Why, we went to the theatre ever so many times before you saw that diamond-place."

"That may be, but don't you think it ought to have come in earlier?" says she, sticking firmly to the original idea.

"Very likely, my dear, had I been aiming at writing a novel, true to all the laid-down canons of the art; but as it is, knowing none of them, the only thing I can aim at is to put on paper a plain, unvarnished history, which, whilst it makes no pretence to literary ability, at least has that rare attribute—veracity."

"The someone in the easy-chair," rather awed, or perhaps a trifle mystified by the long sentence, says, "Oh!"

I strike a match, say mutely, "May I smoke?" am answered in equally loquacious fashion, "You may;" light up, and go on scribbling.

* * * * *

The Nradas are eminently a theatrical nation. They dote on the theatre; the State subsidises it; they receive much of their education within its precincts; their characters are formed under its elevating influence. The performances are all of a high class, though by no means confined to the so-called "legitimate" drama. Shakespeare and Sheridan, however, receive their due share of attention.

But it is in opera that their artists excel. They are alike actors and singers. I saw a man play the Toreador in "Carmen" with a vividness that would have carried any one with him. Action, enunciation, vocalisation, and association were one and all unsurpassable; they were absolutely perfect. In the last scene, where the fickle Carmen receives her death-wound from the hand of a lover, who falls across her prostrate body, dying from a self-inflicted blow, the whole audience seemed to freeze with horror. Though naturally totally devoid of colour, every ghastly Nrada of them grew yet more ghastly.

When there was anything of a gloomy character in a piece, and nearly all the works of native authors had a somewhat morbid tendency, it was accentuated by the surroundings to something verging on the awful. Mind, I do not mean that there was anything grotesque or vulgar in the illusions which heightened the effect of the actor's art. In fact, the very reverse. Some of the most blood-curdling scenes were by far the most grand and realistic. For instance, in a scene from "Faust," which is generally represented on terranean stages as dimly lit by the flicker of a solitary candle, Nrada ingenuity hit on a vastly superior enhancement. Paradoxical as it may seem, they illumined it with a black light, almost brilliant in its intensity, and most weirdly fearful.

I see your lips curl up with the scorn of superior knowledge, and I can hear you assuring yourself that a black light is a physical impossibility, since blackness (or darkness) is simply an expression for the absence of light.

I used to think so, too. I used fondly to imagine, also, that diamonds were made only in the laboratory of nature. But now I happen to know better. And then lighting is a specialité of the Nradas.

In accordance with an unwritten custom, whose origin I have never been able to fathom, the character of these dramatic entertainments underwent a cycle of changes which was as immutable as the theatre in which they took place.

Every style worth a hearing had one; but, on the whole, that in which music was a chief point prevailed; and for this I was not sorry, as the harmonies were simply heavenly.

The orchestration was magnificent, likewise unique. The instruments were, for the most part, a law unto themselves, though here and there one approached in form those which titillate the ear in the outer air. There was an organ, for instance. Not a mere carnal instrument of wood and metal, from which discordant groans are squeezed out by a swaying idiot with long hair and slovenly dress, but a celestial combination that sent through the throbbing air a harmony unknown to me and undreamt of. Undreamt of, though, no. Once, in Table Bay, I had gazed up at the huge Organ Mountain, and imagined an angel discoursing such music to the spheres. And now I, a mere mortal, was permitted to hear it in the flesh I It was with Jack that I first listened to these delicious sounds, and he asked my opinion on them. But being rather past words, I had answered him somewhat absent-mindedly—

"Catching as measles, my boy. But how do you like the way in which it is rendered?"

So it can hardly be wondered that a people with such opportunities as these made full use of them; that the huge theatres of Flangerrode were daily packed with an enthusiastic audience, which never grew blase, and that the stage was peopled with actors of the highest abilities, and of the most complete training.

The disposition of the seats offered nothing very worthy of notice, as it assimilated closely to that which we are accustomed to all the world . over, and the best were apportioned to those who could pay most for them; but the behaviour of their holders, what a difference! As no gossiping shop did they regard their theatre. The ladies—

"And, truth to tell, they're mostly very pretty,
And rather like to show it, more's the pity—

are seated in the front rows everywhere, the sterner sex taking up their positions behind them. Personally, I cannot claim to have fallen particularly in love with this arrangement; but as in other things, having to fall in with the unalterable decree of a never-changing custom, there was no choice but to grin and bear it. However, I used to derive some stray crumbs of comfort in the walks to and fro between the temple of Thespis and the maison Spencer, for Jack was his sister's only escort—this is quite en régie with Nrada etiquette—and he, worthy man, occupied his time fully with Miss Wilde, who had taken up her residence permanently with us. And, by the way, she was by no means the giggling lump of ugly foolishness I had set her down for at first. True, her architectural charms were few, especially when viewed in constant contact with Mona, but she was an amusing little creature, and sensible withal. At least I gave her credit for so much. Jack probably, viewing her with no impartial eye, would have

"Set her beauties' praise above the sea-nymphs," though it is to be doubted whether in so doing he would have

Another point in her favour, she was Mona's greatest friend—or, at least, as I added to myself, her greatest friend of that sex—likewise her most ardent admirer. When we were alone together, which was rare, Miss Spencer insensibly formed the centre of our conversation, though for fear of their being betrayed, few confidences were made on my part.

This was rather vexing, for like many natures—sympathetic is, I believe, the proper term for them—I yearned for a confidant, and though I had a countless acquaintance among both sexes, not a single one was there, excepting Jack, that I could reckon on as a true friend, and to Jack I always hesitated to speak, as I thought, of his sister.

With that young woman herself, too, my position was ill-defined. At first she had been naive and questioning, unsuspicious and frank; but some joking allusions of her always gibing brother anent my unfortunate affaire du coeur at Cambridge had latterly made her a trifle more reserved. Or, at any rate, I thought so. Mind you, she continued just as friendly as ever, regarding me as one of the family, or even perhaps in the light of a brother; but the instant my pent-up feelings sought a vent in any language that verged on the tender, she invariably gave an adroit turn to the conversation. Nay, on more than one occasion, she even left me alone to my own devices, quitting the room with queen-like grace and hauteur, and treating me with marked coolness when next we met. Nothing but an abject apology on my. part satisfied me after these little upsets, but I fear they added but little to my peace of mind.

However, if Mona offered me but little encouragement, she gave others less. Her cousin, Richard Ellin, who was unremitting in his attention, came in for a share of cold contempt that would have deterred a less ardent suitor from further enterprise. And on the knowledge of this, I hugged myself hugely.

"There are not many people in the world I dislike," she said to me one day, "in fact I think there is only one. And that is Richard." (No one ever called him "Dick.") "I try not to be rude to him, but sometimes he pesters me beyond endurance, and the temptation is then almost too hard to resist."

"No, thank you. He is a very influential man, and would only work you harm. Besides, it is well I should look after myself."

However, it was some crumb of comfort to think that she regarded my welfare so much as to fear lest Ellin should do me evil, and I rejoiced accordingly.

CHAPTER XVIII.
Obsequies.

JACK'S father is very ill. Naturally a very healthy man, he had struggled long against a disease which weighed him down; but at last, forced to give way, he has taken to his bed, and we silently dread that he may never leave it.

Jack and Mona feel their impending loss acutely, and I scarcely in less degree; for Mr. Spencer, despite his brusqueness and taciturnity, despite his unsociability and drowsiness, has thoroughly gained my esteem, and I think I might add affection, too. Whatever his failings may have been, I only remember that he was kind-hearted to the extreme. Though having no special claim on his charity, he had fed, clothed, and housed me as sumptuously as if I had been his own son, and I in return had done

—well, nothing. I avoided his society, or, at any rate, did not seek it; and if I had not openly ridiculed his peculiarities, it was more through a sense of what I owed to him than from any higher feeling.

And now that he was going to die, a remorseful regret for my previous inappreciation justly punished me, and I honestly told myself that my regard for him had never been thoroughly analysed. One never values a constant associate to the full until he is in danger of being taken away.

Ah, well, we all owe a debt to nature, so one must look on such things philosophically.

"This illness of the guv'nor's is very mysterious," said Jack to me one morning, when it had become patent to any one that the case was a serious one.

"Well, you will admit that the doctors at Flangerrode are possessed of no mean skill?"

"Most certainly I will, at any rate as regards reducing fractures and executing general repairs on a body which was almost reduced to a pulp," said I, reflecting on my own rapid and perfect cure. ''But of their skill as physicians of course 1 know nothing."

"Well, as a rule their surgical knowledge is trifling when compared to the grasp they have obtained of the other branch of their profession. Bodily disablement through accident is almost unknown amongst us."

"Yes, you are quite right. But now listen to this. Our ordinary medical attendant, though he has physicked Mona occasionally, and my mother that's dead, pretty often, has never tried his skill on the guv'nor till yesterday. But he could detect no typical symptom on which to form a diagnosis. Then, acting on his advice, we called in a second opinion."

"Yes, that's him; and he is at the head of his profession, one Doctor Hood. But for all the good he did, he might just as well have stayed away. There is only one thing I give him credit for. He did not seek to shelter his reputation for infallibility under a false pretence at knowledge. He honestly confessed that the case beat him."

"A man after Diogenes' own heart," quoth I, sententiously. "But did he advise no course of treatment?"

"'Leave your father's ailment to nature, Mr. Spencer, that is all I dare recommend.' And as far as I can see, that is all we can do."

"No good news, I fear," she replied despondingly. "Father seems to grow weaker and weaker, and just now he is in great pain; but he bears it bravely."

"I will go and see." A minute later she returned pale and trembling, bearing the news we all dreaded—" Dead!"

It was hardly a shock, this fell announcement, we were all too much prepared for it, but naturally it cast a profound gloom over the little circle, and a general sadness pervaded all Flangerrode, for Mr. Spencer was much liked and highly respected.

But it was no time for all of us to give way to unavailing grief. Jack and I at least must be up and doing. Cicero says, "Omnium rerum, mors est extremum." Cicero could never have had an intimate connection with the ruthless exterminator. Many preparations have to be made for fitting obsequies, and even the host of specialists that hovers around the shadow of death is unable to effect everything unassisted.

But at length the day arrived on which Ave should see for the last time the mortal husk which shrouded the kindly soul of William Spencer. It passed from the roof which so long had sheltered it, lying with an expression of infinite calm on a bier borne on men's shoulders, and we filed after it in sad procession, followed by a huge host of sympathisers.

Mona, who would not to the last desert the parent she had loved so well, tried to bear up bravely against her almost overwhelming grief, and signally failed. Her brother was in little better plight. They led the sad cortege. Next, ill-assorted couple, came Ellin and myself: he cold and impassive as marble (confound him), and I vainly trying to emulate his self-command. After us the ruck.

We wended our way through tortuous streets and narrow alleys into a terra incognita, which never before had it been my fate to tread, and which I devoutly hoped I now trod for the last time, and finally we arrived at a large building, dimly lighted with flickering lamps, which threw a weird and lurid glare over the whole assembly.

"The Crematory," whispered Ellin, looking for the first time, I fancied, a trifle awed.

The bier came to a halt before a couple of doors in the far side of the chamber, and the mourners grouped themselves silently round it, standing; no one sat down. Then a priest—it was he who had harangued the assembled Nradas on my first formal introduction amongst them—ascended a dais, and performed the whole of the service. It was merely a funeral oration. He sketched briefly the lot of man after death.

"In exact proportion to your good works, your faith, and your charity in the material state, shall ye be rewarded in that world which lies beyond the ken of human eye. From each little action of the flesh shall the spirit draw its corresponding recompense. And for every sin and transgression shall shame and suffering be meted out to it in like measure.

"Of our brother that is gone, it would be presumption on my part to pronounce judgment—Radoa alone may do that; yet could all here present look forward to as exalted a seat in the heavenly scale as one might imagine he will be permitted to assume, there would be much less pain than I dread to anticipate.

"In a quiet, unassuming way, William Spencer has done almost an infinity of good amongst us. Many forbore to give him the credit which was his due, for he made no parade of his benevolence, and shrank sensitively from clamorous thanks But rest assured that

Radoa, the omniscient, whom nothing escapes, has taken note of every jot and tittle.

"And now we shall see the dissolution of the earthly husk into its components of dust and vapour."

As he spoke, the doors behind the bier were opened, displaying a large basket-like receptacle, into which the corpse was placed, after which the portals closed it from our view.

"That will be lowered into the very bowels of the earth," Ellin told me, "where the natural heat will incinerate every particle of it."

"But why will not the casket and the rope from which it is suspended become annihilated too?"

"Because they are fashioned from asbestos, I think it is; or at any rate from some substance over which fire has no dominion."

Soft strains of music now stole upon us from an invisible source. At first its unutterable sadness accentuated the grief of every listener; indeed, I myself had hard work to refrain from breaking down utterly. Then it grew louder and more stormy, as if some mighty struggle were taking place between two contending factions for the initial possession of the victim now placed within their reach.

"This is symbolical of the struggle of the powers of wickedness over those of good," Ellin told me.

"Do they alter it to suit the past life of the individual?" I asked him curiously.

"No," he replied, with a grim smile; "it is unchangeable as the rule of Radoa himself, unalterable as the laws of the Medes and Persians. Saint and sinner, criminal and philanthropist, each have to be contented with what is dealt out to them; and that is the same for all."

But hark! the music changes. It is a triumphant paean of victory; it is a mournful dirge; it is a maddeningly fluctuating compromise between the two, and if any one can tell which of the striving powers it hails "victor," he must indeed be a magician. Undoubtedly it speaks of the uncertainty with which those left behind must of necessity view the future destiny of the one who has departed from their midst.

Then there is another silence, and the doors which close the entrance of the awesome abyss slowly open, and disclose the glowing asbestos casket, which alone has emerged intact from its fiery voyage. Of its sad burden little remains. There are only a few incinerated fragments, an almost impalpable dust, which an attendant places in a vase, conveying it to its allotted position among myriads of others ranged round the walls.

Not very good taste, perhaps, to call such words to mind on such a solemn occasion, but we are not always responsible for our flashes of recollection. They will run riot at times.

CHAPTER XIX.
On Parole.

FOR some months after Mr. Spencer's demise and burial all went on uneventfully and smoothly. Gradually our grief wore away under the irresistible attack of time, and we fell back into our old grooves, just as if nothing had happened. No, by the way I must take exception to that broad statement. Most of us made no especial change in our line of life; I, for instance, continued my lecturing with unblotted success (this is not egotism, only unquestionable fact); Mona busied herself with the superintendence of household duties; Miss Wilde, who for a time had left Flangerrode, returned to busy herself with doing nothing as heretofore; and Ellin, confound him, once more hovered about his fascinating cousin, like a miser round his-money-bags. But in Jack there was a decided change. It was not a sudden one; in fact, at first its growth was inappreciable, but at the time I am writing of, it had assumed serious-proportions. He himself was quite aware of it, but my poor eloquence was of no avail to make him modify it. He only ridiculed my efforts.

"My dear Tony," he said one day, when I had been endeavouring strenuously to instil into him a sense of his shortcomings—"My dear Tony, you folk from the outer air have a proverb among you, that it is unwise to instruct a parent's parent in the art of extracting the nutritive juices from the ovular deposit of the common or barn-door hen. I prithee apply it."

"No, but, Tony," interrupts he, mimicking me. "Now, look here, old man, just shut your shouting-hole if you want to croak out of it."

What could one do with a person so evidently bent on closing his ears to anything likely to be distasteful? One more trial, and I'll give it up-

"Jack, I ask you as a great favour to listen-to me seriously for just five minutes."

"Seriously. Is there not a law by which the headship of a family may be taken away from any one who is considered by Radoa's ministers unfitted to hold it?"

"Well, Jack—do attend, now—I know there-is, and what is more, it is very likely to be put in force in the case of one Cyril Spencer."

"Because, my good chap, for the last few weeks you have been persistently playing the fool, practical joking, and otherwise annoying the king's—I mean Radoa's—lieges in a way that will be tolerated but little longer. Your amiable cousin, Master Ellin—"

"By all means, no sentence is too heavy. Well, 'your amiable cousin' will, if you are-deposed, step into your shoes, which, I take it, would be a change he is not averse to. You would then be not only bereft of income and position, but have to start life afresh under his kind auspices."

"Can't say that I am. Why, man alive, the law you speak about is as obsolete as the Philosopher's Stone. Where on earth did you dig it from?"

And so on in the same strain. He would not look at the matter seriously, so I was forced to abandon it. And after all, the crimes that I had tried to make appear so heinous, were in reality trivial. In most communities there is a large percentage which looks upon life as a period to be spent in perpetual enjoyment unalloyed by useful work, but I am unaware that legislature can interfere. Even among the Nradas, although a law provided for contingencies like these, it was rarely, very rarely, enforced. In fact, its last spasmodic effort had been witnessed years and years ago, when no other legal weapon could be found to punish an offender who had contrived to make himself excessively obnoxious to the powers that be, and at the same time with great astuteness to evade their anxious clutches. So perhaps, after all, my fears were unfounded.

"I have a project in my mind," Jack went on, "that if you had not developed these unaccountable scruples, I should have greatly liked to impart to you. As it is, however"—laughing—" perhaps I had better keep it to myself."

"Well, sit tight and listen. How would you like to have a peep at the outer air?"

"A peep at the outer air!" The admonition to "sit tight" is disregarded, and Jack's auditor springs to his legs, exclaiming, "Are you in earnest?"

"Of course I am," coolly, "don't get so excited, I mean a peep in the most literal sense of the word, as your visit to the regions up above will be of the shortest duration." Then, after a pause, and rather earnestly, "Say, Tony, are you tired of us? I wouldn't have made this proposition had I not thought you were content with your lot."

And I wish he had never made it. A minute before, dissatisfaction with my lot was the thing furthest from my mind, and now, of a sudden, that mind was a prey to the most painful conflict. Supposing an avenue of escape were open,, should I make use of it? Should I leave a community in which I had carved for myself a position and a competency, to start afresh in another in which my previous career had been, to say the least of it, an unmitigated failure? Should I quit a people among whom my friends were practically numberless, to join myself again to another, amongst whom I could hardly claim an acquaintance save Gernstein?

On these considerations, of a surety there could be no desire for change; but there were others which forced themselves to be taken into account.

Visions sprang up before me, unbidden it is true, but for all that scarcely unwelcome, in which the delights of a life of travel unveiled themselves with alluring seductiveness, of a life in sweet communion with the works of nature, the birds, the flowers, the green fields, the mountains, and the rivers, which till now had never been accorded their full value. We seldom set proper price on things we may see whenever we wish to.

Ruminating on in this fashion for some time, an exclamation from my companion once more brought me back from dreamland.

"Come, wake up, Tony! you're in a blue study, ain't you? A pin for your thoughts, man."

"It's a pity I ever proposed it, if the very idea causes you to put on such an expression of general sadness. Forget that I ever spoke about the trip, and come and beat up some other fellows and have a talk."

"By no means. If old recollections have forced themselves upon my brain, how can you tell that all of them have been unpleasant ones? I grant you some were bitter as an early orange, but Tony, I'll accept your offer if you, on your part, will still keep it good."

"Right you are; I will stick to my part of the bargain, if you will agree to yours. I need scarcely say that this little outing will be entirely sub rosa; in fact, were it to come to the ears of those in authority, it is more than probable that it would be put out of our power to make such another by a method at once summary and decisive."

"And one other thing," Jack went on, more seriously—"but you won't be offended at my putting it to you plainly?"

"Well, it is this. You may have an opportunity to escape from your 'durance vile'—mind, I don't for a minute say that the attempt would be in any degree successful—and I want you to think what the result of taking advantage of it would be to me."

"I thought you knew me too well, Jack," I was beginning hotly, when he interrupted me.

"Now, you promised not to get savage, and you are doing so already. However, perhaps I ought not to have spoken."

"1 Cry you mercy,' Jack,"—humbly. "It is quite right of you to remind me of the tremendous stake you are laying on my honour, and the confidence you repose in me shall not be abused. Here's my hand on it."

"Thanks, old man. Now, don't squeeze my digits to a pulp. I say," nursing the injured members tenderly, "you've got a grip like a hydraulic press."

CHAPTER XX.
A Scrap Of Sky.

"TURN out early to-morrow morning," had been Jack's parting injunction on the day before, so I obeyed him studiously.

"Our starting-point on the upward journey lies at a good distance from Flangerrode," he said when I met him; so we walked together towards the terminus of the rope railway, and were carried I knew not whither. Getting out at length, at a town called Oroon, Jack informed me that a longish walk lay before us, and that, too, we accomplished, but in silence. My companion had relapsed into his old Cambridge taciturnity, and I was too much absorbed in my own thoughts and speculations to invade his privacy. At length he stopped before a small building.

"Just wait a minute or two for me outside," he said, "I shall not be longer, but there are one or two arrangements to be made, that your presence will not materially forward."

As a point of fact it was nearly a quarter of an hour before he came to me again, but I could see from his face that the negotiation, whatever it was, had been successful.

"I had rather a tussle to get over his scruples, and only succeeded in the end by taking Radoa's name in vain, so it is to be hoped that he does not investigate matters too closely, or it will be warm here-after for you and me."

"You needn't be frightened," he continued encouragingly (as if I were frightened!). "There is only one man here, and he is off to manage the lift machinery. Here now," pointing to a metal box, some six feet cube, "here is our vehicle. Step in."

I followed his instructions, he followed my example, and the machine, as if sensible of our presence, tottered a moment in the balance, and then began to ascend swiftly.

"Sit down and make yourself comfortable," said my guide, himself setting the example, "there are I know not how many score fathoms of subsoil, in the widest sense of the word, to pass through before we reach our goal,"

"Transmuted from heat obtained from that inexhaustible source, the earth's interior?"

"Yes. The immediate downfall of the Nrada nation would be coincident with any failure of that supply. It is as necessary to us as the very air we breathe; it is But hullo, here we are, sooner than I expected."

As he spoke, the chamber we occupied came to a standstill, and on looking round, the interior of a cellar stacked with packages of every description showed itself in dim outline. The only illumination was derived from an ordinary tallow candle stuck in the neck of a champagne bottle, this classic candlestick being borne by a man dressed in the ordinary coat and trousers of the nineteenth century.

After so long a contact with another species of costume totally different from the one I now saw before me, its strange grotesqueness almost made me laugh, albeit I was in no laughing mood.

The man, whom at first glance I could tell to be a Nrada from his low stature and pale complexion, did not seem over-pleased to see us, but Jack satisfied his scruples by telling him that as we had passed the sentry below, he need have no fears or responsibilities.

"Well then, gentlemen, perhaps you would like to come upstairs. Just wait a minute till all is secure down here, and I will lead the way."

So saying, he signalled the engineer below, and the cage which was protruding from the middle of the floor descended, and a large flagstone which rested on its roof sank into place, and no trace of communication with the lower world remained.

"Yes, sir," said the man, "and a lucky thing it is so, for some police officers, armed with a search warrant, overhauled the premises less than a week ago to seek for some stolen goods which they imagined were stowed here, and had' our arrangements been less perfect, the existence of the Nrada nation must have been discovered."

"Nothing very peculiar about it," said Jack, "when you look at the matter from a practical, common-sense point of view. We take every precaution. Look at the Freemasons, now; all the world knows they have a secret, and half of it is ever eager to know what that secret is, yet for goodness knows how many years it has remained inviolate. But I say, old man, time is valuable, and if we stay gossiping here much longer we shall have to go, back without taking that peep you are so keen on. Up these stairs, I suppose?"

"Yes, sir," said their guardian; "permit me to show the way. If looking out of window is your object, perhaps we had better go to the second storey. I have muslin blinds up, which will allow you to gaze on the crowd beneath without danger of being seen by them."

"Is there any danger of intrusion?" asked Jack, cautious for once in his careless life.

"Little, I should imagine, sir; still, as it is best to be on the safe side, if you and this other gentleman," meaning me, "will slip on some of these clothes," pointing to a cupboardful of assorted garments, "you will not look remarkable if we have any unexpected visitors."

"Good notion," assented Mr. Spencer. "I say," he went on, "how rummy trousers do feel again, don't they, Tony?"

But I was too busily engaged in looking through the window at the scene before me to answer his question. The house we were in was evidently situated in the business quarter of a large town, and the street below was thronged with the usual mob of people one might reasonably expect in such a place. Nearly every one appeared to be hurrying; none of the bees in this human hive could pursue wealth through the streets at a sedate pace. Here and there was one who had strayed from a more accustomed track, either one of those perambulating tailors models, popularly yclept "mashers" (which most wise men consider neither a thing of beauty nor a joy for ever), or a lady on shopping bent, daintily picking her way along the crowded thoroughfare, or more luxuriously riding it in her carriage.

Occasionally, too, these two latter genera, attracted by a community of sympathies, perambulated together in couples, sometimes moving swiftly, as if in search of a more congenial clime, at others sauntering slowly, fully conscious that the workers amongst whom they moved would trouble themselves to pass far less comment on what a casual observer might stigmatise a flirtation, than would the giddy throng of idlers who loafed in the more fashionable quarters, lacking a better employment.

Then a piano-organ took up its stand opposite, and its guardian Italians ground out "My Grandfather's Clock," with the usual conglomeration of harsh octaves and would-be mellifluous trills and runs. This music (sic) rather jarred one after the celestial harmonies which Nrada-land could produce.

Then a gang of sandwich-men slouched slowly along the gutter, bearing inscriptions which set forth the virtues of Somebody-or-other's "Decapilatory," which was probably just about as effective for the purpose it was intended for, as cold water would have been. We have a mixture among the Nradas, going by the same name, which obviates the necessity of shaving.

But it would be eminently tedious for you to hear me recapitulate every item of that transient inspection of a crowded street, although each is as vividly impressed on my mind as if it were a sight of yesterday.

The weather was cold after the heated atmosphere of my nether world, the light was filtered through a smoky mist, and a thin drizzle helped to make things look doubly cheerless. Yet how great was my longing to enjoy all these luxuries once more, I can scarcely tell. And there was little to prevent me. Neither

Jack nor the man who was with us were individually or collectively my equal in point of physical strength. A rush would make access to the street door not only feasible, but sure.

Why, then, did I remain? A passed word of honour? Well, yes, and something else. Something that was quite as binding. A bond, therefore, which could by no means be broken. And its name was Mona.

"Well, Tony," said Jack, cheerily, breaking in upon my reverie, "you don't seem to be enjoying yourself much. You couldn't look much more melancholy if you were under sentence to take an immediate visit to the dentist's, which is, I believe, one of the greatest ills of an earthly existence."

"Well, don't do it any more, then. 'Only thinking' with you always means conjuring up cerulean demons who make your life a burden to yourself, and your company a torture to your friends."

"we'd better go back now. Just one final squint"—moving back to the window—" and then—"

My companions were quickly beside me, and one of them instantly went downstairs to receive his unwelcome visitors. A minute later we heard voices in violent altercation.

"Yes, but why should I have to submit to this perpetual nuisance? This is the second time you have come to search my premises within a week."

"That's nothin' to do wi' us," responded one of the men, gruffly; "we got our orders, and we 'ave to carry 'em out. Now come on, sir," he continued persuasively, "don't give no trouble, and we won't meddle with things more than we can 'elp."

Evidently the wretched householder saw the futility of further remonstrance, for the men entered, and commenced their operations below stairs.

I turned to Jack: he was looking extremely anxious. "We had better arrange our toilettes a little more carefully," he said, suiting the action to the word by advancing to a scrap of" looking-glass suspended, against the wall. "Now," he continued, "those chaps are morally certain to overhaul us here, and we should by rights have some yarn ready to account for our presence."

"I don't see the necessity," said I. "Tell them to go to the devil, and mind their own business. Surely an Englishman's house is his castle!"

"Yes, my boy," answered Mr. Spencer, "but Englishmen don't, as a rule, have faces the colour of chalk, neither do they make a practice of disporting themselves in the empty rooms of their castles; "—the one we were in was as bare as the outside of a billiard-ball.

As we entered the room below, the detectives-met us, and evidently so far their quest had been unfruitful. One was saying to the man whose territory he had invaded, "Well, we'll just take a look round this room and the one above, as a matter of form, and then you shall be rid of us."

The speaker was evidently about to make some other comforting observation in the same strain, when his eye fell on the unlucky wight who is at present penning these pages, and almost transfixed him with its stony stare.

"Well, I will be d—d if you ain't Mr. Haltoun as 'as been advertised for all this long time!"

Here's a pretty coil. Gernstein or some other misguided friend has got anxious at my nonappearance and has placarded me about the country.

"Don't you remember, sir," this remorseless tormentor went on, "my seeing you about the robbery case at Newmarket?"

"You are making some absurd mistake," here interposed Jack, seeing that I was fast for an answer, and coming nobly to my rescue. "This gentleman is Mr. Cordeux, and as he only arrived in England from Australia a week ago on his first visit here, he cannot well be your

"Ay, but he is, though," returned the detective, a north countryman, with dogged persistency, "and as there's a 'undred pounds offered for him, I'm going to march 'im off to the Town

Here I interposed. "Has this fellow you take me for (Haltoun, didn't you say his confounded name was?) committed any crime?"

"Then you must know perfectly well that by taking me into custody, you lay yourself open to a charge of false imprisonment."

"That's so," he mused, scratching his chin confusedly; "but," imploringly, "won't you 'elp a poor man t' airn the money?"

"Idiot! How the devil can I, when I am not the man you want? Look, here's a half-dollar to get drinks with—" (I had discovered it in the borrowed trousers). "Clear out and go and console yourselves," which they did.

CHAPTER XXI.
A Broil.

Polonius:
Beware oF entrance to a quarrel; but, being in,
Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee."

"Can you come round to my place this evening? I have some important business to discuss with you."

"There's cursed impudence for you," said I, tossing the original of the above across the room to Mr. Cyril Spencer, who, with his heels on the table, was seated in an easy-chair, nodding over a novel.

"Urn! ... Ah!" quoth that worthy, reading it through. "Er ... Don't go if you don't want to. On second thoughts, though," he added, lowering his feet to their proper level and sitting erect, as if a sudden thought had struck him—" on second thoughts, I rather wish you would. Ellin asked me a couple of days ago to look him up to-night, and in a weak moment I promised to do so. Probably it is for 'business' too," and he sighed regretfully.

"Oh, very well, 111 turn in," and so saying, went on with the work I had in hand, thinking little more of a meeting which was destined to have the most momentous consequences. Indeed, the engagement almost slipped my memory altogether, and, as it was, I arrived at Ellin's very late. Jack had preceded me, and was sitting near his worthy cousin, with such a bored expression on his face that I almost laughed outright.

"Whisky. Ah! that is a luxury in Flangerrode. Steady. Whoa! Not too much, or you'll be having me screwed. Remember, I'm out of training for this kind of luxury now."

"Oh, didn't they give you any when you revisited your old haunts the other day?"

He asked this startling question quite casually, as if the knowledge of our freak was of no serious moment, but I knew at once that his tone foreboded mischief. I glanced at Jack, who was looking rather scared; but evidently thinking it best to brazen the affair out, he asked blusteringly "what the devil Ellin was driving at."

"I was merely referring to that little trip you took together sub rosa, and which nearly terminated so tragically."

"You are a confounded spy, sir," I burst in angrily; but he interrupted me in his irritatingly calm way, and begged that I would keep cool. As if that were not a further incentive to becoming heated!

"Now sit down, Haltoun, I beg, and you too, Cyril." For Jack had risen to his feet, and was looking—well, warlike.

"It is no use your trying to deny your fault, because I know every tittle of your doings. Never mind how," he added, with a deprecating gesture of the hand, "but suffice it that I do know. Now, whether or not the secret will rest with me and go no further, depends upon yourselves."

Ellin flushed angrily at this, and for a moment nearly lost his self-control, but governing his face with a supreme effort, he said quietly—

"You misjudge me entirely, Cyril, and I am .sorry for it, as it would have been pleasanter for all parties concerned if you had forestalled the request I am about to make. As you both know—"

"Oh, don't beat about the bush any more, man," interrupted his cousin. "We know you have your finger on the screw, and expect to be pinched; come to the point at once."

Thus exhorted, our blackmailer changed his tone at once. Its usual mask of pedantic pietism dropped from his tongue, and the words came out with an unmistakable ring of expectant triumph.

"I want you, Cyril, to consent to my union with your sister, and to further it by every means in your power."

"What you ask is impossible," said Jack. "Even if I were willing to allow her to do such a thing, Mona dislikes you too much to dream of a closer relationship with you than she is afflicted with already. Besides, I have reason to believe that her affections are bestowed elsewhere."

"I was coming to that presently. As the price of my silence as to your share in this escapade, Haltoun, I must request that you resign all your real or fancied pretensions to Miss Spencer's hand."

"A kind offer," said I, outwardly calm, but inwardly boiling with rage, "but I must beg leave to decline it with thanks."

"And I also," exclaimed Jack, with mock politeness, "will see you buried, before you shall get my consent to your condescending proposals."

"Very well, then," said Ellin, "we know now how we stand. You have given me open defiance, and you must both abide by the consequences. In five minutes, if you have not changed your opinions, I shall go and lay the information."

"Much obliged for the respite," remarked Jack, nonchalantly. "By your leave 111 just have a glass of this whisky to pass the time away. H'm," sipping, "as far as I'm a judge, it's not bad. Better try a glass, Tony, and drink to our next merry meeting."

I glanced across at our enemy to see how he relished this ill-timed pleasantry, but his features were as inscrutable as a stone wall. Lost apparently in deep thought, he had not heard a single word.

Presently he remarked that the five minutes had passed, and asked if we had altered our resolves.

"Speaking for both Tony and myself," said Jack, "I must inform you, most loving and amiable cousin, that the laws of the Medes and Persians were more changeable than the dictum we have just had the felicity to lay before you."

Ellin's brow darkened, for he evidently anticipated our giving way at the last moment. Moving towards the door, he exclaimed angrily,

"Not so fast," said Jack, springing between his cousin and the door, "we have another word or two to say yet, and I advise you to listen to them, for remember you are dealing with desperate men."

But Ellin, resenting the interference, struck out savagely, and Jack, who did not expect such an outburst, received the blow in his face, and fell heavily to the ground. Ellin looked at him a moment, and in another instant would have escaped; but the delay was a fatal one—for him. I had sprung across the room, and gripped him by the collar with no tender hand.

"You infernal rascal Move from that chair "—flinging him into one—" and I'll strangle you. Jack, old man, are you hurt? Let me give you a lift."

"Never mind, Tony," replied my damaged friend, "I shall be all right in a minute or two, although I feel a trifle dazed just now. The corner of that chair bumped against my skull, and the skull's 'worst man.' Just keep an eye on—say! Look out! Tony!!!" this last in a regular yell.

I did "look out," and beheld my late antagonist stealthily creeping towards me with an open pocket-knife in his hand. Of his intentions there could be no doubt, for on hearing the warning shout, he made a leap and missed me, thanks to my own timely movement, by a bare inch. I put the table between us, and then picked up the chair Jack had damaged his head against. Truly and surely did it speed across the intervening space between me and my enemy, and felled him like an ox. He, too, seemed overcome by the emotions of the moment; and as his knife, an inquisitive-looking weapon whose six-inch blade would have opened up the interior of any one, had fallen, I deemed the opportunity a fitting one to transfer it to my own pocket. Jack meanwhile had collected his scattered senses and was standing at his prostrate cousin's side, looking anything but amiable.

"Leave that to me," said I. "When he has recovered from this temporary indisposition, I wish to argue with him a little as to the relation in which we stand towards one another at present. Ellin! I say! open your eyes and don't sham any more. It's no use your 'playing 'possum' with me." (By the way, this was quite a guess, but it happened to be a correct one.)

"Well," said he, sitting up and looking at me surlily, "what do you want? I advise you to be careful, for remember all this broiling will tell against you afterwards."

I laughed aloud at his impudence, and then demanded his word of honour that no syllable of our recent escapade should cross his lips. This, as I expected, he steadfastly refused to give.

"So much the worse for you, then," said I. "You, refuse my first argument, let us now see what the second will bring forth."

"Just such another reply," he interposed, with a sneer, "so spare yourself the trouble of propounding it."

"Steady a minute," replied I. "The first which you scorned was suaviter in modo: the second will be fortiter in re, and as nature has made me twice your size, and endowed me with three times your strength, one may reasonably doubt whether you will find a counter-argument to prevail against it. Jack, find me a cudgel."

Mr. Spencer, nothing loth, looked about for some time before he could find a weapon to his liking, but at last espied one hung up on the wall. It was an old-fashioned walking-staff, seme four feet in length, made of plaited strips of some light metal, and as pliable as cane. The finder handled it lovingly for a moment, and then passed it to me.

"Now," said I to Ellin, trying to look as fierce and determined as possible, "with this stick I'm going to whack you gradually—by degrees, mind you—into the next life, unless you give that promise I asked for."

Either he did not believe I should carry out my threat, or else chose rather to bear the punishment than to resign his dreams of vengeance. Anyhow, he made no sign of relenting, so I gripped his collar and swung him into position. Swish! came the stick through the air with all the force I was capable of, winding itself round his shrinking body in that sickening way which canes have. The blow fairly took away his breath for a moment, and I was just about to repeat it, when he gasped out—

Preciously glad I was of it, too, for playing the part of torturer goes against the grain, somehow, even when the subject has less than a minute before tried to murder you. However, you may be sure I did not let him know this, but said, u So much the better for you. But what pledge have we that you will not betray us, when this "—pointing significantly to my weapon—" is out of sight?"

I looked at Jack inquiringly. He nodded gravely, and I let my captive go. A "word of honour" is sacred among the Nradas. They would never even dream of violating it.

"And now," said Ellin, sulkily, "you had better go and leave me alone. You have humiliated me enough for one day, and by Radoa's life I believe further irritation will make me take leave of my senses,"

Acting on this hint, we left the room; but we did not exactly go on our homeward way rejoicing. Victory was on our side, certainly, but each had a foreboding that the affair had not yet come to an end. Richard Ellin was a man whose motto was—

"Get place and wealth, if possible with grace;
If not, by any means get wealth and place,"

and, as friend Paley remarks in his playful way, it was "contrary to experience" that he should submit to such a facer as we had just meted out to him without a strenuous endeavour to return it in kind. Wherefore it behoved us to be constantly on our guard.

CHAPTER XXII.
A la Mort.

I WAS alone with Mona the morning after our fracas with her cousin, and was trying to muster up courage enough to put my fate to the issue. This sounds a very easy thing to do, but let me inform the uninitiated that it is not so at alL You may prepare pretty speeches beforehand, suitable for every exigency which circumstances may combine to form, but none of them fit in at the right moment. I fear on this particular occasion she must have thought that I had taken leave of my senses, for what with my general nervousness as to the probable outcome of the interview, and my ineffectual endeavours to bring up the subject which I had at heart, I made but a poor listener. Indeed, she told me as much.

"I don't know what has come over you this morning, Tony, but you seem strangely absent-minded." (Here's an opportunity, thought I, but she continued.) "I suppose you were out rioting with Jack last night, I see he has a very choice black eye this morning: he says a chair hit it, which is hardly a satisfactory explanation."

"It is not very satisfactory, certainly," I assented, "but then it is as hard to get truth out of Jack as to extract diamonds from a limpet."

Either the simile didn't please her, or the disparagement of her miserable brother went against the grain, for she deigned no answer, but only yawned slightly, and made as if to rise and go.

"Mona!" I ventured desperately. She has risen to her feet and is looking inquiringly. "Mona! Could you—"

"Bother! Tell him I'm engaged." This, by the way, was exactly what I wished to be. and the thought striking me at the time, I blushed.

"Tony," said Miss Spencer, severely, "don't tell fibs." Then to the servant, "Ask the gentleman to walk in here. Now I'll leave you, Tony, to your business, only do try and gather your scattered senses together, or your visitor will think you have taken leave of them permanently." And with that she left.

"Ah me! another opportunity lost. Well, I'll take it out of somebody, and this unfortunate comes handy. Here he is.

"Oh, Williams, it's you, is it? They did not announce you by name. Hope your business is pleasant, for I'm in the devil of a temper."

"Well, I cannot say that it is altogether pleasant, so I want you to refer me to a friend to transact it for you."

"Thankee kindly, Mr. Williams, but at present I am capable of managing my own affairs. At any rate, what is it?"

"A challenge! What on earth for? To see who can eat most oysters in an hour, or what?'" A challenge to fight, Mr. Haltoun; and let me add, this is not a subject for levity."

This latter observation was, I conclude, intended as a sort of mild censure, for at the word "fight" I had burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. The idea was too funny. A duel on English ground at the close of the nineteenth century! German students, I know, still cut themselves after the manner with knives, and glory in their scars; irate Parisian journalists occasionally, too, take an early morning airing in the faubourgs, but never suffer any injuries save those which the inclemencies of the weather may award impartially to both sides; but no other instance of the duello in a civilised community—and without doubt the Nradas are that—could I remember.

"And suppose I refuse this invitation to come and be killed, Mr. Williams, what then?"

"Oh I" said I, shortly, for this showed the case in a new aspect. "Well, I shall consult Mr. Spencer, and act on his advice."

"You may do so. And now go, if you value your personal safety," which he did with alacrity.

Here's a pretty coil, thought I. Well, Jack will be my best resource, so I had e'en best go and consult him. Halloa, though, here he is.

"Ah! the very man. Think of angels, and up they'll pop. I say, Mr. Spencer, I've just received a challenge to meet your sainted cousin, Richard Ellin, in mortal combat."

"On the contrary, Tony, duelling is quite a recognised custom here, and if he has challenged you, I'm afraid you must go out."

"Oh, right you are, I don't care. As the challenged, the choice of weapons will rest with me, and I fancy Master Ellin will look rather foolish when I select fists."

"But, unfortunately, that is not the case," said my second, gravely. "Our code admits but of one class of weapons. See, there is a pair in this cupboard."

"Spring-guns and darts!" exclaimed I, contemptuously. "Make it squirts and ink whilst you are about it, and then we shall stand some chance of damaging one another."

"Those tiny darts are all charged with poison," replied Jack, and he looked more serious than I had ever seen him before, so I began to think there was something in his projectile, after all. "And," he continued, "the least scratch is fatal." Evidently he was in earnest and not hoaxing this time.

"And is my antagonist that-is-to-be an expert shot with these things?" pointing to the lethal weapons contemptuously.

"No, practice is of no account," was his somewhat enigmatical reply. "Wait for me here a short time till I go and make arrangements with Williams."

Two hours afterwards we were on the "field," if such a term may be applied to a small hemispherical cavern some twenty feet in radius, and my opponent and his friend were awaiting us.

Jack was terribly agitated; indeed, he was in a perfect bath of cold perspiration, and although I myself felt far from comfortable, I had sufficient self-command to hide my emotions under a calm exterior. Ellin's second took upon himself the whole of the arrangements.

"You will stand blindfolded," he said, "here and here," pointing to two marks on the ground twelve feet apart, "and fire when and how you please. The click of the spring in your adversary's weapon will indicate the direction. And now another thing. One of you will fall, and to prevent difficulties for the survivor and witnesses, it is necessary that his body should be disposed of. That chasm," pointing to an awful rift in the ground that I had not previously noticed—"that chasm will effectually swallow it up. Do you both agree to this?"

Jack nodded, and silently gripped my hand. Then as I was moving off to take up the allotted position, he said in a low, husky voice, "Tony, that man is my cousin, but kill him, or he'll do the same by you. Mind, now, no Quixotic notions of firing wide. Promise me, now."

"All right, Jack, I promise. Have no fear." And if I spoke with cheerfulness it must have been very forced, for, to tell the truth, I was, to use a familiar expression, in a "blue funk." My antagonist looked so confoundedly triumphant. Had he been tampering with the weapons beforehand? I whispered this doubt to my second, but he shook head confidently, and told me to have no fears on that score. Indeed, Williams' next action set all my unjust suspicions at rest.

"I have here," he said, "two sheaths of darts, and two spring tubes for projecting them. They are, as far as I know, precisely similar; but perhaps"—turning to me—"you will make the first choice."

"By pressing this lever, the spring is contracted. Place the dart in so. Now, by pulling this catch so, the missile is shot out. You both understand clearly?"

"Well, then, Mr. Spencer, will you bind this handkerchief across Mr. Ellin's eyes, whilst I blindfold Mr. Haltoun. There, I think that's all right"—stepping back to admire his handiwork—" and now let me lead you into position. Step back when you are ready, Mr. Spencer."

In spite of the gravity of the position, I almost laughed at this command. It sounded as if we were in for a lengthy tournament. However, the whiz of Ellin's projectile unpleasantly close to my ear recalled me to a fit sense of the grim position I occupied, and my arrow quickly sped on its course. Three others followed, and if their aim was as good as my antagonist's, they must have missed their mark by but a little. One of his actually passed through my hair, and for an instant visions of that awesome abyss loomed visibly before me.

The suspense of these chance shots, any one of which might carry death with it, was something dreadful. I would have given anything to have been able to decide the affair one way or the other instantly.

We shot on, and still we shot, neither, as far as I could tell, being one wit the worse, till at length a sharp pain in the arm told me I was wounded. Death in all its horrors was before me, but I loaded and shot desperately in the hopes of bringing down my foe before the poison had done its fatal work.

A yell! Ha! that is good. Vengeance is sweet, and now I shall not cross the Styx alone.

But I am growing weaker and weaker. The weapon drops to the ground from my nerveless hand, and I follow it—inanimate.

"Halloa, Jack! Why, I thought—I thought—I was dead. What was I doing just now? Oh, I remember." And then with a shudder I noted that the cave had but three occupants now—Williams, Jack, and myself. Ellin was gone, and I recollected where.

Jack gave a slight laugh, rather hysterical in its merriment, as he said, "One dart struck you. but your clothes scoured off its venom. What made you faint?"

"Sheer fright, I suppose. Imagination is a powerful aid when you expect to die. I suppose we shall have to make ourselves scarce after this, Mr. Williams?" I added, turning to the other bystander, who was busily occupied in putting up his "peacemakers" in their case.

He looked rather surprised at the question, I thought, but answered politely, "There is no need for us to inconvenience ourselves in the least. Poor Ellin will be missed from his usual haunts, and though people may guess his fate, none will ask questions about it. The duel, you must know, is quite a recognised thing among the Nradas."

Nevertheless, I felt far from comfortable about my share of the transaction. True, the encounter had been forced on me by one who had actually attempted my own life, and whom I had killed purely in self-defence; but still the fact remained that by the laws of England and of most other civilised countries, I was nothing more or less than a murderer, and as such liable to be hanged. It was by no means a pleasant retrospect, that meeting.

CHAPTER XXIII.
The All-Absorbing Question.

"Why did she love him?
Curious fool, be still;
Is human love the growth of human will?"

IT was some time before I got over the shock, mental and physical, dealt me by the event treated of at the close of the last chapter. That Mona Spencer was its real initial cause, I could not disguise from myself; and in answer to the question, "Would I undergo the same again for a similar reason?" the unhesitating response was "Yes." She had come to be an ingredient of my very existence, and the bare thought of her being the prize of another was unendurable. But still, up to now I had never asked her to link her lot with mine. No, but I intended to do so on the first suitable opportunity.

I certainly had made several attempts, but they had all been futile. One, as before mentioned, had been interrupted by Ellin's emissary on the day of our fatal encounter; and some other deus ex machina had been equally effective with the others.

But at last an opportunity came. Jack was going away for the day, and I escaped his invitation to go too by some trivial excuse, for I knew Mona would remain at home, and hoped for a tete-a-tete. Which I got. But do what I could, our conversation refused to turn itself in the channel I longed for. We got quite animated over a new novel lately imported from the world above, spoke learnedly on an improvement in electric lighting, and gravely discussed the appearance of a devastating bug that made havoc among the potatoes. We even conversed about our respective healths, which is always a last resort, corresponding in fact to that never-failing topic, the weather, that one can always fall back on in countries where it varies, which it does not in Nrada-land. Then conversation languished altogether, and Mona actually yawned!

Still I lack the moral courage to broach the subject which lies nearest my heart. However,

I shall not be happy till it is settled one way or the other, so here goes for a brave effort, for which I clear my throat so as to start fair.

"Mona—er—I—er—can you—that is, may I—may I have a few minutes' conversation with you?"

The young lady addressed looted up surprised at this strange method of exhortation, and evidently thought the speaker had taken leave of his senses.

"What do you mean, Tony? Haven't we been chatting for the last two hours, and didn't we stop because you had absolutely nothing to say?"

Encouraging this, but I won't be beat. "Yes, but I—er—want to speak to you of—er—well, something else—something that we haven't been talking about before."

"Well, if we have not been talking about it before, I conclude it must be 'something else,' as you term it. Tony," severely, "are you trying to be funny?"

Oh, bathos 1 so much for endeavouring to get pathetic. Well, never say die; try again.

"For a long period of time, Mona, I have been endeavouring to find an opportunity for—"

"Oh, Tony, Tony," broke in this irritating young woman, with a merry laugh, "don't try grandiloquence. It does not come natural to you a bit. You had much better use Cambridge slang again, and be intelligible."

Mental comment: Why can't she see what I'm driving at, and give me a helping hand? Awful foreboding: I've got hiccoughs coming on! There was cucumber in my lunch, and I resisted not its alluring wiles. Now inevitable Nemesis, cruel granddaughter of Chaos, is about to overtake me, and bright Venus will be put to unutterable rout. For pure, unadulterated fickleness, commend me to my own individual share of Fortune's personality.

"Excuse me a minute, Mona, just to fetch a pencil," and with this feeble lie I bolted precipitately to apply any remedy my limited pharmacopoeia would suggest. When I returned, she was on the point of leaving the room, but I blocked the doorway, and blurted out desperately, u Mona, just wait half-a-minute, and you shall be pestered no more. This was what I have been trying to say to you. I have been sweet—that is, I mean, in love with you ever since we first met, and now the murder's out."

It was by no manner of means a formal declaration of affection, this, after any of the recognised canons which novelists set down on paper, but it had the desired effect. For the life of me I could not say how I discovered that my love was reciprocated, but it was done somehow, and twenty seconds after the avowal we were seated together on a lounge, and—well, I dare say you can guess. In days of yore, when I had seen Mona lavishing kisses on that unappreciative imp of a brother of hers, I had always hungered for my turn to come.

There was no strain on the conversation now. It flowed as freely and as fast as if we had been a couple of old friends meeting after a separation of years; but as it would have no especial interest to the general reader, I shall take upon myself to omit it.*

* The conversation is given in full in Mr. Haltoun's copy, but it would not print. I do not believe any compositor would set it up.—Transcriber.

Jack, of course, had to be informed of the arrangement his sister and I had come to, and although I anticipated not the slightest opposition on his part, there was every reason to expect a goodly amount of chaff. "Oh," said he, when I told him; "so, having cleared the coast by your bow and spear, you are going to marry Mona Spencer, are you? Well, I suppose it is a case of La reine est morte, and I must cry, Vive la reine!"

"I say, Jack, it's hardly good taste to remind me of Laura Crame! I care as little for her now as I do for the first pipe I smoked at school."

"Yes, old man, but both bring back unpleasant recollections, eh? However, we'll drop that subject now."

"Thanks; and, I say, you needn't chaff me about it before Mona. I told her all about that piece of foolishness, and. she doesn't care a bit now."

"Well, we haven't exactly settled that yet, but it will be as quickly as possible. By the bye, old man, do you consider it too soon after—after—"

"After the poor old guv'nor's death, you would say, to get married? Well, I don't think so, and more especially for this reason. You have arranged between yourselves without the slightest hint from anybody, exactly what he had wished you should do. The guv'nor took a great fancy to you, Tony, and he had set his heart on your marrying Mona. I may tell you so now that it is all settled. Not that I ever had much doubt as to how affairs would turn out: your sentiments on one particular subject have been a deal too open for any one gifted with the ordinary modicum of common-sense not to read them."

"Look here now, I say, my brother-in-law in prospective, just hold your impudent tongue, or else there will be warfare between us."

"I hear and obey, most potent. Unclothed truth shall no more offend your modest ear, and mendacity shall reign supreme. Listen now: never in the whole course of a chequered career have I been so utterly surprised as I was just now when you announced your engagement to ray sister. That such a thing could come to pass never entered my thoughts." And Mr. Spencer leaned back in his chair with the air of one who has done his duty.

11 What a dissatisfied animal it is!" growled that individual, with a look of comic despair. "What in the name of everything that's absurd do you want of me?"

"You may become a Benedick whenever your Beatrice pleases. To-morrow, for aught I care. Will that suit you?"

"Oh, all right, then. And—ough! Tony!" severely, "if you ever crush my hand again like that, I'll forbid the banns."

CHAPTER XXIV.
Invention.

"I had a dream the other night—
A vision, I should rather say—
In which I climbed to Fortune's height
In quite a sudden sort of way.
When half asleep, and half awake,
A flash of inspiration came,
And showed me something that would make
A boundless wealth and lasting fame."

AS you may imagine, my time, which lately had never hung heavily on hand, was now more fully occupied than ever. Every moment which was not taken up by lecturing and preparation—and my office was the reverse of a sinecure—was devoted to the society of a young woman who shall be nameless. She really was most exacting, and I—well, could not have wished her otherwise. But these are times when of necessity one is in solitude. During the night watches, for instance, when tired nature imperatively demands restoration in sleep; and it was then that something occurred to my mind which bade fair to give me a strong fillip on the upward grade of prosperity.

One morning, I woke up with the distressing consciousness that a scheme had worked itself fully out before my fast-closed eyes, which would form a decent pavement for the high-road to a prodigious fortune. What it was I had not the vaguest notion, and as the damsel, the aforesaid, chided me severely for being silent and distrait, and as the amount of regular work I got through during the day was absolutely nil, the reasonable sequitur is, that this dream should haunt my waking thoughts. Which it did, and probably this is the reason why I was favoured with a repetition of it, in tote, on the following night. But the waking hour arrived with no more satisfactory result than its immediate predecessor. As Jack once said of a piece of poetry, "I couldn't remember a blessed inch of it," and mourned accordingly. Indeed, so gloomy and morose did this irritating evasion make me that I forsook the haunts of men (or rather women), and alleging business as an excuse, betook myself to a vast desert cavern without the precincts of Flangerrode. But no; memory refused to be wooed, and I was e'en constrained to return whither I came, a disappointed man and tired and snappy withal.

A jovial friend who chanced to come across me on the road, found this out to his cost, for my temper usually vents itself in cutting sarcasm against any one that comes handy. This unlucky wight, however, was so far proof against my gibes as to recommend a good strong dose of alterative medicine as an invaluable specific, and got fairly scorched for his pains.

But even this blow-off did not thoroughly relieve my pent-up feelings. So, knowing myself to be unfit for human society, I communed only with that ill-conditioned brute, Mr. A. M. Haltoun, and in bed. But this time not without precautions. A sheet of paper and a pencil lay on a convenient table at my side—in hopes.

As might have been expected after all this feverish expectation, I could not sleep a single wink. I racked my brain for remedies. Countless imaginary sheep leaped before me over nonexistent hurdles; but when the flock reached four figures I started a phantom pigeon-cote, and kept one wretched bird constantly coming in and out. But though at last the feathered biped tired of his aimless task and went in to roost, the human one was fain to confess that he was more wide awake than ever; in fact, that he had never felt less sleepy during the whole of his life.

This stage however, must have been climacteric, for directly afterwards my eyes closed without compulsion, and speedily locked themselves under the longed-for influence. After an interval, of how long I am utterly unable to state, the blank unconsciousness of dreamless sleep was interrupted, and in the way, too, that I had so earnestly desired. Probably this may again be accounted for by the trending of my waking thoughts towards one idea; perhaps it was a special ordinance of what Mussulmans term "Fate"—who shall say?—any way, the details of that invention were once again vividly depicted before my eyes, and this time I determined they should not be lost. By an awful wrench—and the exertion was almost Titanic—I woke up, scribbled and sketched away as rapidly as possible on the paper at my bedside, and then—oh, I suppose dosed off again.

In the morning when I woke, the memory of this piece of carefulness had totally escaped me, and I recollected only that that slippery vision had once more been vouchsafed to me, and once more winged its flight into the mists of forgetfulness. As a true Briton it behoved me to rail at my ill-luck, and grumble at things in general, which I did without stint, lying in bed the while so as to do it comfortably. Tiring after a time of this kind of consolation, I rose to a sitting position, preparatory to getting up. Then my eyes fell upon those midnight literary labours, and my heart was gladdened with joyful anticipation. In a moment their import flashed across me, but a closer inspection somewhat damped my original ardour. A more villainous specimen of crabbed calligraphy never maddened postman. Half the words were superimposed on the other half, and all reminded one of the first attempt at handwriting of an aboriginal Australian. This literary triumph was illustrated by a sketch of peculiarly drunken appearance; but then I never could draw, even in the most lucid intervals, so that was understandable.

To decipher this hieroglyphical effusion was my constant task during the two ensuing days, and at their completion my labours were crowned with success. There had been evolved from my dreams, or from the fantastic thoughts which haunted them, a boring machine, the like of which had never been seen in Nradaland.

Actuated by electricity drawn from the never-failing source, a piston, shod with diamonds to prevent wear against the rock it penetrated, was driven forward and back with rotary movement, in such a manner that I judged it would prove more than twice as effective as any of those in daily use. I communicated this discovery to Jack, who seemed far from enthusiastic over it.

"It's all very well on paper, I dare say," he remarked, "but don't be too cock-a-hoop till you see how it acts in practice. And, by the way, I wouldn't tell every one about it if I were you, or some ingenious thief will do a steal, and leave you in the lurch."

"But, my dear Mr. Spencer, you know as much about mechanics—pardon my plain speaking—as you do of astronomy; and I know rather less."

"But it would be a labour of a lifetime, and I have not the leisure to devote to it."

"Nothing," said I, hopelessly. Then as a brilliant idea struck me, "Let's go and ask Mona."

"Mona!" repeated her brother, contemptuously. "What earthly use can it be mixing her up in it? She'll only go and get so tremendously proud of you, that every one in the town will hear you are an inventor (save the mark), and they will quickly worm from her, of what."

"Rubbish," ejaculated the maligned young lady's fiancé, as he rose to carry his project into practical effect.

"Oh, I'll turn in later, when the rapture business is over, you know." He was saying something else, probably in the same idiotic strain, but I did not stay to listen. Jack used to be a very decent fellow at one time, but since I have been engaged to his sister, his vulgar attempts at wit are becoming positively sickening. I am sure Mona and I never "gush," as he is always accusing us of doing, and as for making ourselves absurd—well, he might look nearer home for that. When a certain Miss Freda Wilde is about, to use one of his own slangy expressions, "Oh my hat I

Still, arguing with Jack on such subjects is but an unprofitable amusement, for he is artful as a painter, and invariably turns round one's words to suit his own vile ends.

However, between us all it was settled that skilled workmen should be entrusted with each little part of my machine, and in order that there might be no collusion among them, they were to be selected from as wide a radius as possible. The plan acted, the various portions were fixed together between us, and the whole voted a success.

"And so you shall, my dear," answered her brother, "to-morrow morning, at the back of your own house. Everything will be in readiness by then."

And I am sure she was every bit as pleased as we were to find the machine a signal success. It ate away the solid rock with more celerity than I could have dug soft loam, and its diamond-faced surface sustained not the slightest scratch.

"You've made your fortune, sir," quoth Jack, "and have to look forward to something else, that most inventors in Nradaland prize more."

"Whatever is that?" cried I, totally at a loss to grasp his meaning, for I knew he was not referring to marriage, as that was settled long ago.

"Wait and see. I don't know exactly of what nature, but there is a treat in store for you that will surpass your most sanguine expectations. It is one only vouchsafed to those who give their fellow-countrymen some brain-product which materially helps them in their daily labours."

I cannot say that this enigmatical promise gave me much anticipatory enjoyment. Perhaps one reason was, I was somewhat sceptical of the reality of such a boon. Anyhow, I dismissed it for the nonce from my thoughts.

CHAPTER XXV.
An Execution.

"See they suffer death;
But in their deaths, remember they are men;
Shun not the laws to make their tortures grievous."

DURING our researches into the world of mechanical life, Jack and I had come across many curiosities both in men and material; and amongst others one Joseph Joggetts. As might be reasonably expected in one bearing such an extraordinary name, he was by no means a commonplace mortal. Jack did not like him; I, on the contrary, did; but for the life of me I could give no reason for such a feeling.

He was ugly, phenomenally so; he was bad-tempered—" cross-grained as the rib of a racing eight," Mr. Spencer said; he seldom spoke, he never laughed; and he was a social pariah from one of the lowest grades of society; and yet somehow I liked him. I believe, too, the feeling was reciprocated, though, mind you, he did not alter his general suavity of manner one whit in consequence. No, he was every bit as bearish to me as he was to every one else.

"I suppose you'll be a great man now, Mr. Haltoun, through this boring machine," he remarked one day, after a long silence.

"Bound to be, sir, so long as you live." And then he added thoughtfully, "But we must all die some day, mustn't we? Do you ever think of dying, Mr. Haltoun?"

"Oh, I don't know, Joe, perhaps I do. But what a horribly gloomy subject to talk about just now!"

"Did you ever see a man executed?" he asked, leaning his elbows on the bench and looking at me intently, without taking the least notice of my remonstrance.

"Oh," he said disappointedly, "I thought you might have done. They say you've travelled a deal up there," and an upward jerk of his thumb indicated that he was referring to the world over our heads. "Should you like to see an execution, Mr. Haltoun?"

This was coming to the point with a vengeance. The passion for going to see a man hanged used to be rife amongst our grandfathers, and if they were not ashamed of it, why should we be? Of course in England now we never get treated to such an edifying spectacle as a public execution, and only a few officials witness our criminals' last jump into space. Other countries, too, are following the same prudish example. True, in

America, Judge Lynch does occasionally make a public example, and I once just missed seeing him operate on an unpopular wife-murderer at

"You remember that mob orator that Mr. Ellin and the rest of you brought home from Golingor?"

"Meet me here to-morrow morning and I'll take you to see him—er—put away. There has been more unquietness in his neighbourhood, and some one has to be made an example of."

As might be reasonably expected, I did not inform Mona and her brother of the precise nature of my pressing engagement on the following day, not being remarkably proud of it. In fact, my arrival at Mr. Joggetts's residence would have reminded an onlooker of the entrance of a thief to a house where he knew the owner to be awaiting him with a brace of pistols and a bowie. My .cicerone, on the contrary, appeared quite festive.

"You are rather late," he remarked, "and to get a good position, we must hurry."

But we did not go too fast to prevent him giving me gruesome details by the way of former expeditions he had undertaken for a similar purpose. What a splendid manager that man would make for a waxwork chamber of horrors! Crowds of other folk were going our way, but happily (or was it unhappily?) the peculiar arrangement of the floor of the place of execution allowed most to have a view. We found ourselves near the outskirts of the mob, but Joggett, with the foresight of an habitué, had a little shut-up stool in his pocket, on which he perched himself. My natural height made me indifferent to such adventitious aid.

Before us, over the vast sea of heads, and at a considerably lower level than that at which we stood, was a railed-off space, and across it a chasm some twenty feet wide. Into the middle of this a plank projected, on which the culprit was to take his stand. Presently he did so, and the light, which before was white, now of a sudden turned green and ghastly. The effect was startling. The buzz of voices—every one seemed to be Expressing his own particular views to his neighbour—suddenly ceased, and was succeeded by a silence so profound that one might have heard the fall of an eyelash. It was quite weird in its intensity.

Then a voice broke it—the deep, sonorous voice of an officer of justice reading out the accusation and sentence of the prisoner, but I cannot claim to have paid much attention to him. The sight of the unfortunate being balanced on that narrow plank over the giddy gulf fairly fascinated me, and I had neither eyes nor ears for anything else. He was on the opposite side of the chasm facing us, and being blessed with good eyes, I could trace every movement of his terror-stricken face. I remember wondering at the time whether he had devoured the M hearty breakfast" universally ascribed to those in his station of life by the daily journals. Anyway, he did not exhibit a "firm demeanour on the scaffold," for a better instance of cowardice personified could not well be imagined. And accountably so. Poor devil! probably I should have been the same, had I been in his slippery shoes.

But now the peroration has finished, and the "performance commences." But not in the way I had expected. Instead of the fastening of the plank being at once withdrawn, so as to give its living freight an instantaneous plunge into eternity, with what might be considered a refinement of cruelty, it was attached to a rope paid out by inches. Inches! did I say? Barleycorns were more appropriate, or even millionths of barleycorns. The motion was almost imperceptible, yet none the less sure.

As the angle between the unfortunate wretch's body and its insecure standing-ground grew less and less, so did the difficulty of sticking there grow greater, and in a ratio highly geometrical. I began to wish heartily that I had stayed at home. The sight was too awful, but if I turned my head away, its fascination literally compelled me to look round again.

"Why ever doesn't he walk up the plank backwards?" I whispered to Joggetts, who was bathed in a cold perspiration, and by no means, to outward appearance, enjoying himself.

"Can't he hop backwards? Anything would be better than standing still helplessly."

"Oh, yes, so there is. Then I would jump, if I were he, and get it over. It's only prolonging the agony to stay on."

"He is hoping for a reprieve. They are sometimes given at the last moment. Not that," he added as an afterthought—" not that he will get one. Don't talk now."

he was, at any rate, being made an example of for his country's good. But, somehow, I derived small comfort therefrom. When one remembered the insipid bestiality of his congeners, there was reason to doubt whether this semi-savage's organism permitted him to feel the full horrors of the situation as acutely as anyone drawn from a higher grade, but all would not agree in this. There are people who hold out that the Bosjesman of Central Africa has a soul constituted similarly to that of the most highly educated European—people, that is, who have not had the felicity of meeting with him face to face in his native wilds.

The plank has just passed the angle of forty-five degrees, as near as one can judge, and foothold on it is more than precarious. Its agonised burden knows that if respite does not come now, it will come too late, and looks appealingly at him whom he imagines may hold Radoa's mandate. But he might as well look to the yawning abyss beneath him for mercy as to that unmoved official.

A slip. Ha I it must be over now. But no, a quiver passes down his back, and by a supreme effort the balance is maintained. Surely they will give him a coup de grâce. No such thing. The plank seems to tilt more slowly than ever, but still it does not stop.

The multitude is holding its breath now. It is a case of seconds. So, too, thinks the cynosure of all their eyes, for he collects himself for a final effort, and, bound hand and foot as he is, makes a desperate leap for the opposite side of the chasm. For a moment his head appears above the brink, and then, probably stunned by the impact, he rolls helplessly off into the hidden and awesome depths below.

No one seemed inclined to linger after this. As if somebody had cried out, "Ladies and gentlemen, this show is over," they turned to move away, and I for one was glad of it.

If we in England deal out the last penalty of our law with less salutary and deterrent effect on intending criminals who may be witnesses, at any rate we have more regard than the Nradas for the possible result on the nerves of harmless people.

CHAPTER XXVI.
The Kamri.

"All mortal pleasures carry in their train
A touch of an antithesis call'd pain.
There is but one exception to this law,
... The Kamfri."

MECHANICIANS or scientists in England, when they discover anything that hits the public's taste, and received its approbation in the comfortable form of pecuniary emolument, usually have other prizes conferred upon them. They are made Fellows of the Royal Society; they are elected to honorary membership of the Athenaeum Club; or maybe they are dragged up, with a variegated assortment of princes from each and every zone, a few Colonial magnates, a stray Lord Mayor, some mixed statesmen, and a successful brewer or two, into the Cambridge Senate-house, and amid the ribald hoots of the merry undergraduates in the gallery, have conferred upon them the degree of LL.D., Mus.Doc., or what not—all, so it please you, honoris causa, which is as well, for probably examinations would not be in their line.

Nay, some of them, in the goodly company of successful spinners, grocers, dyers, and shoddy manufacturers, are even admitted to the orders of knighthood. And this, no one will deny nowadays, is indeed a proud distinction.

The great B.P. is constantly reminded of the bestowal of these dignities, by hearing their recipient addressed with a handle in front of his name, or by seeing it written or printed with a tag of letters behind it. But then the B. P. always likes titles, and heads its prospectuses with gentlemen who have expended their five-pound notes in buying those fellowships of learned societies which may be attained by giving no other evidence of eligibility than the requisite amount of pecuniary treasure. In fact, I believe dentists—that is, those who are the proud possessors of more than twenty letters in their signatures above and beyond those which parents and sponsors provided them with—are alone without the pale of the B.P's slavish adulation. And this is because some evil-minded person, wishing to see himself in print, has told the papers that these large-sounding titles of the tooth torturer can be purchased from America at a reduced rate by taking a quantity.

Now, of titles, good, bad, or indifferent, the Nradas have not a single one. A man's name goes plain, unvarnished, and unincreased by such dubious aid. If the owner of the name deserves it, folk know of him, and probably are acquainted with him personally. If he is of no account, he lingers in obscurity—I am not taking into regard social attributes. Very well, then; but to what, you are asking, does all this rigmarole trend? Merely this, a Nrada inventor has not only as much substantial honour dealt him as his British confrere, but he enjoys the Kamfri to boot.

And what in the name of chaos is the Kamfri? you naturally inquire. That, as a practical enjoyer of its bliss, I shall proceed to explain.

"Anthony Merlwood Haltoun, of Flangerrode, is hereby informed that on Tuesday next he will have the pleasures of the Kamfri accorded to him.

This was a document which I received one day. The whole matter had escaped my memory; in fact, the few stray hints which had been let drop of the Kamfri's bare existence, had excited little interest in me. I thought it was some empty ceremonial.

Mona saw the announcement thrown carelessly down on my table amongst other papers, and picked it up with an exclamation of joy.

"I must indeed congratulate you, Tony. This is the highest reward the State can confer upon you."

"Oh, is it?" I rejoined indifferently. "Well, my dear, since you are so keen about it, I wish you would be my proxy. For myself, I am not desirous of figuring as the centrepiece of a procession, or even as the chief ornament at a pompous gathering in that everlasting temple. My boring machine will bring me in a certain amount of money which we may be thankful for, and perhaps some fame, which I don't want, and for the rest I would rather be without it."

"Tony, I shall be absolutely angry with you if you go on in that ridiculous strain. Wait and see,,sir, and if you do not go into raptures over this 'rest,'as you so contemptuously term it, may I never—"

"Hush, my dear, ladies should never swear, remember that always. And now, as you seem in such deadly earnest, I'll scoff no more."

On Tuesday I betook me to the offices of the Invention Board, but did not find it necessary to state my business. Evidently that was sufficiently notorious to need no telling, for a clerk promptly requested me, with much deference, to "step this way," and ushered the man whom he considered the most favoured of mortals, to judge from his envious glances, into the august presence of his superior.

"Ah, Mr. Haltoun, glad to make your acquaintance, and to offer my humble congratulations on the errand which has brought you here. Do you wish to enjoy the Kamfri at once r

"I wish, Mr. Drake, you would explain to me what this mysterious Kamfri is. Everybody either presupposes that I know, or tells me that time will show—refuses to enlighten my ignorance, which is profound."

The head of the Invention Board smiled rather pityingly, just as one would at a savage who had never heard of gunpowder, but he too, made his information so ambiguous as to be of little avail.

"Kamfri itself," he said, "is a powder which is sublimed from a gaseous spring within the precincts of this building. Of its composition I know nothing, nor do others. It defies analysis. Its composition is a problem that the chemist has never solved either by reagent or spectroscope. So we are as unable to compound it synthetically as we are to find a second natural source. This being so, the supply is limited—very limited. In fact, so scant is it that we can afford to give to hut very few, so you must deem yourself more than ordinarily fortunate. Now let me show you this powder."

So saying, he unlocked a safe let into the wall, and swinging back its massive door, disclosed a few—certainly less than half-a-dozen—small glass stoppered bottles. I took one and examined it. Its contents resembled in texture—if such a word is allowable, and I am open to correction—powdered talc. Their colour was that of a still sea unflecked by spume flakes on a muddy shore. Call it dirty-greyish-green, and you will not be far out."

"Now, it is rather bitter so, and I think you will find a drop or two of saccharine an improvement. Try that."

I drank off the mixture, and found it to taste very much as 126 port does to my untutored palate—remarkably like sugar and water.

11 And now," said Mr. Drake, "probably you will like to dispense with my company for a few hours. In the next room you will be disturbed by no one,"

* * * * *

In youthful days—I speak comparatively—it had been my whim to subject myself to every influence which others accredited with the power of giving a new sensation. I had tried various anaesthetics, mesmerism included; opium, and voted the intellectual pleasures which De Quincey assigns to it mythical—probably owing to a deficient education; hashish, which nearly dealt me a quietus; and I had inhaled a drop of chloroform from the plug of a lighted meerschaum pipe, which probably metes out to mortals the most transcendent bliss this upper earth holds amongst its known stores. Each and all of these, however, contrive to make their memories linger. They set about it in different ways, perhaps, but the majority may be described as headachy, and these more than counterbalance, to my mind, the value received.

Now, with Kamfri there are no such after-consequences. Its insidious pleasures are unalloyed by nausea, inertness, racking shooting pains in the skull, general hatred of all things created, or insatiable longing for something wholly indefinite. But what they really are beggars description. At the present moment I am scratching my head (or rather I was till I caught myself in the act, and stopped it in disgust), in the vain endeavour to reduce to words the sensations which cause such infinite happiness, although it seems almost a desecration to do so. But the oracle is nearly dumb, perhaps because the method of appeal is distasteful. However, this much I can formulate. Kamfri does not send those under its influence to sleep; they remain as wide awake as a poor devil who feels that there is toothache in the air. It does not deprive them of any of their senses; on the contrary, each one is sharpened as if some emergency—danger, for instance—had called for the output of every power. The imagination, perhaps, chiefest of all, is heightened, for when under the drug's influence one can not only view in fancy those things which before time were well known or dreamed of, but also visions of persons and objects never previously seen, eVen in the maddest, wildest, most outré efforts of vivid mental delirium. These phantoms seem to assume material shape, and if in the semblance of the human form divine, they are gifted with powers of speech most ravishing in their bewitching pleasantry. Not one, either animate or inanimate, is capable of raising a pessimistic thought. Their motto is, "Hence, loathed melancholy," and they raise one to the acme of self-satisfaction and complacency.

And I believe in this lies the secret of the whole.' Even in our most joyous moments at other times there will creep in an arrière pensée which will mar perfect happiness.

After this initiation, as may be guessed, I was eagerly anxious for another dose of the Kamfri; and good fortune again put me in the way of earning it. '

The Nradas have several boring machines, among which the newest stood pre-eminent, but they possessed no means of blasting the rock so perforated. The ordinary agents, gunpowder, dynamite, quicklime, or what not, are for one reason and another undesirable, and under a new stimulus I set to work to find some other. Discovery answered my call, and an alloy of silver, tin, uranium, and another metal unknown at present to outer-air scientists, was laid before the Invention Board, which, when subjected to the action of a powerful current of electricity, would bristle like the "quills of a fretful porcupine," and swelling out with the resistless force of congealing water, burst asunder any mass of rock it might be called to act upon.

For this I requisitioned another of Mr. Drake's little stoppered phials, and but for subsequent events, who knows but what I might have laid claim to a third, or even a fourth?

CHAPTER XXVII.
My Marriage.

"Well, I'm very sorry, old chap, and I hope you will bear the bad news well; it shall be broken to you as gently as possible."

"Pardon me," Mr. Spencer said, interrupting what promised to be an angry speech, "but I fear you mistake my meaning. I was merely going to add, when you so rudely interposed, that I personally could not be your bride."

"Whoever asked you, intolerable idiot? Comfort yourself by knowing that you gave me "a turn," as the women call it, that I shall not forget in a hurry, so look out for squalls."

"I say, Tony," said my tormentor, utterly ignoring the threat, "wouldn't it be jolly for us both to be married on the same day?"

"Phe—ew! So you are an engaged man, too, then? By Jove, I should never have thought it. When did you make confession? Come, let's hear all about it."

"That's just the worst of it, I haven't been able to manage it. Tony, be a good fellow, and tell me how to 'pop.'"

"Ah, but you've had experience," rejoined Mr. Spencer, viciously—and it was a nasty jar—"an unpractised amateur such as I am cannot be expected to be so proficient "as a past-master like Mr. Haltoun!" And the brute made a bow of mock deference.

"Well, Tony, if you employ your small wit in lacerating my feelings after this fashion, you can't expect me to offer you any material assistance. Now listen, here's a chance. Shall I propose for you?"

Needless to add, this was not intended to be taken seriously; but, to my horror, Jack sprang up, seized my hand, shook it (till I squeezed his, and made him leave go), and then ejaculated enthusiastically, "Old man I The very thing; you couldn't have hit on a better dodge. Go and do it now; she's upstairs with Mona."

"Oh, hang it, man, you know. Tell her I'm awfully sweet on her, and all that. Cut along." And with these shadowy instructions I reluctantly left the room.

"Jack wants you downstairs, if you could spare him a couple of minutes, Mona; something important, I believe."

(There's nothing like a good lie to start with, it clears one's head wonderfully.) But having cleared the coast of the audience, and being face to face with Miss Wilde, I felt an almost unconquerable desire to laugh. The situation was too ludicrous. Here was I, the ambassador of a man of double my self-assurance, about, on his behalf, to lay before a young lady a project which I had made a hopeless bungle of when proposing it to another young lady on my own behalf. I was morally certain to be laughed at for my pains, and to cause a coolness between the amorous couple—for I felt sure she liked him—but then the Rubicon was past, for Jack was sure to have told his sister what I was after, and there was no retreat.

"Oh, call me Freda, by all means. You do not speak of me to Jack as Miss Wilde, I suppose?"

This was a poser, but I answered honestly, "No, I don't. But then you never give me my Christian name."

"For the very simple reason that you never asked me to. However, for the future we will be Tony and Freda."

Confound the girl! was my mental comment; she's getting precious gushing, all of a sudden. Hang it all, she can't think I am going to propose to her I Perish the thought, and shade of the North Pole lend me your chill.

"I came—that is, I am come; in fact, Jack told me to say that—oh, bother it! Look here, he wants to know if you'll marry him, and he hasn't the pluck to ask you himself."

She had been smiling enough at the commencement of this bungling harangue, but she blushed angrily, and wanted to know whether it was an ill-timed practical joke I was trying to play; and on hearing that it was not, remarked frigidly that this was a matter in which no third person should interfere. Whereupon 1 retired precipitately.

"Jack, old man," I cried, rushing in upon him like a cannon shot, "congratulate you."

"Tony, you're an angel," he exclaimed, getting up and shooting from the room like a rocket.

Then I told Mona what had happened—she had heard the cause of my embassy previously—and we laughed over it till I know my sides fairly ached. In fact, we were still occupied in giving vent to our machinations when the causes of them entered the room, both looking very sheepish, but supremely happy withal. My prospective brother-in-law shook his fist in my face, and called the "villain," and his fiancée—for such there was little room for doubt Miss Wilie now was—shook her head coquettishly and inquired "How could I?" Then, after finally disemburdening her conscience by remarking that it was "a shame," she went up to Mona and kissed her with effusiveness.

So we were both to be married on the same day, and this is how it was done. Jack and I marched into the temple, which was crowded,—partly on his account, because he is very popular; partly on mine, since I am what he is pleased to designate "rather a pot," which I take as symbolical of usefulness; but mostly to take a last view of one of the brides-elect, who was beyond doubt

"The pick of the basket, the show of the shop," before she changed her state. And well might they come if this last reason gives their object. Never had I, who have known her now for long, seen Mona look so transcendentally lovely. A tight-fitting dress of creamy-white set off to perfection her splendid figure, but no covering obscured the view of her ruddy auburn hair. Her hands, and feet too, fairy-like in their proportions, were bare, for it is part of the Nrada marriage custom that their maidens should go shod only with a light sandal on this, which would be their last trip as such. As for Freda Wilde—well, to tell the truth, with so beautiful a foil, she did not show off to advantage. Natheless, she too was looking her best. And now that all those who were to take part in it had arrived, the imposing ceremonial commenced—as usual with music.

What Nrada music is, you know—grand, impressive, descriptive, unsurpassable, inimitable, sublime, almost unreal in its ideal perfection; so no coarse description of mine is needed to picture it more vividly to your imagination. When it came to an end—and the cessation seemed to strike a chord of melancholy on the hearers, like the sudden stoppage of a delicious dream by a rude awakening—with the celestial harmonies still lingering in the arched roof, the marriage service—if such a term would apply, for it was partly civil, partly religious—commenced.

First there was a discourse droned out through the preacher's nose, to which I, for one, paid little attention, although it was delivered by one of the great guns—maybe he was a canon of the temple. Jack, too, confessed afterwards a similar inability to listen, saying his sensations at the time were very like those he experienced when taking his degree in the Cambridge Senate-house, an awful scare lest something—indefinite—might turn up at the eleventh hour to nullify the culminating effect of his three years' study. I had not undergone that ordeal, for reasons which need not be repeated, but I could understand its horrors—the earnest endeavour to keep a smiling face for noisy friends in the gallery; the fear lest the dons should judge such merriment unseemly and mistimed, and issue a non placet; the dread of duns, whom tradition affirms have the option of stopping the degrees of their debtors; the alas! too well-known sphinx-like gaze of the proctors standing beside the vice-chancellor, as he sits in state, almost able to turn into stone the unhappy delinquent they know so well—and my present position seemed a well-drawn parallel. I was as nervous as a girl—as nervous, ye god of Tremors, whoever thou art, as Mona was herself.

But by the time the sermonising was over—and we had to stand the whole while, which, as the orator was somewhat long-winded, was a trifle tiring—I think the whole party of us centre-pieces had regained a certain amount of self-possession, and the signing of the marriage contracts went off without hitch.

Though honeymoons are unknown among the .Nradas, Jack and I were too much imbued with English customs to forego this, the chiefest of nuptial enjoyments. It was Freda's fancy to go South, whilst Mona was extremely anxious to visit the cave where I received my first introduction to any members of the Nrada nation in their own domain, so she and I journeyed into Yorkshire. We even penetrated to the foot of that funnel-like shaft which gave so perilous an access to the lower world, but found it filled up, probably to keep back other would-be explorers. However, there were sufficient evidences of what it had been, to show that my escape was little short of miraculous.

"I don't want to stay here any longer," quoth my spouse, a trifle awed by her gruesome surroundings; "do let us go back to Flangerrode."

"But, my dearest Mona, we have not been away three days. Surely you are not tired of your company yet. People never feel bored till the honeymoon has lasted a month."

"I do not 'feel bored,' sir," said Mrs. Haltoun, making a pretty little moue "but I want to go home—home—home. Recollect it is not an English girl that you have married, and we Nradas know nothing of your English custom of honeymooning. I'll stay, though, if you wish it."

"Not an instant on my account!" And we returned there and then, to find Mr. and Mrs. Jack, as Mona laughingly termed them, awaiting us.

"It wouldn't do," said my old chum, grinning. "You can't start new customs in Nradaland all in a hurry. Before we had gone twenty miles on our journey we agreed to come back again."

CHAPTER XXVIII.
The Penalty For Peeping.

NOW, any one but a first-class fool, having married the girl he loved, and being supremely happy after so doing, would have been content with remaining quietly at home, instead of prowling abroad with the set intention of running his head against a metaphorical brick wall. But I being one of those undesirable individuals, set off one evening after dinner—and one does get valiant after a good feed—with the fixed intention of finding out for myself more about the mysteries of Radoa's temple than the general public was intended to know. I had mooted the project long before to Jack, but he did not look kindly on it.

"If you indulge in such hair-brained schemes as that, my friend," he had remarked, "you will be waking up some morning, like Charles

Peace, to find yourself famous. And the kudos you will gain," he added significantly, "will be shared by your friends."

But then Cyril Spencer was a Nrada, and as such, prejudiced. For his countrymen considered their ruler-deity, from what I had gathered, as unapproachable as the Grand Llama, as autocratic as the Czar of all the Russias, recking the consequences of his acts as little as did the late Sultan Haroun Alraschid, infallible as the Pope, strict as Mahommed, successful as Alexander or Tamerlane, coeval with the hills, handsome as Apollo, majestic as the sphinx, immaculate as a new-born babe; and as such, and a good many more things combined, they stood in no little awe of him. And quite naturally so, for such was the spirit of their bringing-up. Now, I being English by parentage, Italian by birthplace, and cosmopolitan by education, like Galileo cared for none of these things; and so I went to explore. A strict jury would probably have found curiosity as the motive, whatever excuses I may have privately alleged to myself. Indeed,

"Since Eve her old hand at pomology tried,
Unless our race is much belied,
We've all been most inquisitive." *

* Why "pomology"? Who says that the fruit our great ancestress laid thievish hands on was an apple, and what is his authority?—Transcriber.

But that is neither here nor there. Suffice it that I went to the grand temple that lords it over all the other buildings of Flangerrode, and we will say, like Lothair, meditated on the influence of architecture on religion, which, proving a dry theme for a feeble brain, was dismissed promptly. Then my familiar evil spirit assumed the reins, and led me into that part of the building consecrated to the priests alone. I made the circuit of its walls, admired the cameos leisurely, but saw nothing worthy of special comment. Indeed, except that there were fewer seats, it was a precise counterpart, on a smaller scale, of the body of the temple itself.

Then the guiding spirit the aforesaid—a demon of the darkest dye he must have been—must needs call my attention to the little alcove perched up high in the wall, which

Radoa reserved for himself alone. But it was out of reach—my upstretched fingers were more than a yard below its floor. However, I recollected seeing, close outside the chief entrance of the fane, a lot of cleaning tackle in a recess, and amongst it some stools, presumably to assist the servants in reaching parts of the building which required scrubbing, and which their low stature placed them out of reach of. They were rather rickety, these pedestals, but I carefully chose out a couple of the strongest, and balanced them, one a-top of the other, just beneath the alcove. The first attempt at climbing was a failure, for, not being learned in the art of balancing, I came down by the run, and tested the hardness of the floor with the back of my head. Any one wishing for a certificate thereof may have one on application.

The next trial was more successful, for I got my hands on the ledge before the unsteady scaffold subsided, and speedily drew the rest of my body up to them. The portable lamp 1 had with me was stuck in my pocket for safety's sake whilst doing this, but now I drew it out and switched on the current. The soft light showed up everything plainly. There, before me, was the secret of Radoa's sudden and mysterious entrances and exits—merely an arrangement of mirrors! What a consummate set of asses we all—meaning myself and my naturalised fellow-countrymen—had been, not to have discovered the dodge before! Why, it is as old as the hills, coeval with Pepper's ghost and the three-card trick.

I set myself behind one of the mirrors, in search-of properties—grease, paints and a pot of vaseline would have in no way astonished me—but found emptiness. The space behind the other, however, afforded a startling revelation, if not altogether a satisfactory one. The floor, consisting of a single slab of marble, turned on an unseen pivot, and depositing me in a hollow beneath it, swung rapidly back into its place with a vicious snap.

"Trapped, by all that's unlucky! and in a snare purposely set to catch fools who will meddle with other folks' business." The lamp had come to smash in the fall; so, deprived of its light, and ergo being in total darkness, I proceeded to grope around my prison in search of a possible exit. But no such luck. There were four walls, each about eight feet in length, and each with as little break in them as the floor of a new skating-rink. The ground—and I carefully grovelled over the whole of it—was equally unsatisfactory; and the roof I could not touch, so the chamber was over eight feet high.

So there was no chance of escaping unannounced, and I must stay till he whose dwelling I had so rudely invaded chose to set me free. Not that I supposed for an instant that he would do so. A man so utterly untainted with scruples of any kind as Radoa was would not be likely to accord life and liberty to one who already knew so many of his secrets. A knock on the head from a club, or maybe a quick stab with a knife, and my widowed wife would never learn who was her husband's murderer. The thought of resisting omnipotent Radoa did not occur to me for a moment then—I was too much of a Nrada to dream of that.

However, I was not kept long in suspense. Footsteps made themselves heard without, a catch was pressed back, part of the wall opposite me showing itself to be a door, and Radoa stood before his prisoner.. An open dagger clearly evinced his original intention, but as the light shone on me from a lamp down the passage in front, he seemed to exclaim to himself, "Oh, it's you, is it?" and drew back a pace or two as if to consider.

For a few moments my fate hung in the balance, but if at the end of them the arbitrator had not inclined towards mercy, I fear me much he would not have found a passive victim.

However, the order came at last, brief and curt, "Go before me down that passage. Do not fear," he added, with a half-sneer, seeing that I still looked suspiciously at his naked blade, "I shall not kill you—yet."

So I proceeded, reassured somewhat, and made for a curtained doorway, from which a bright light was streaming.

"Not that way. Straight on. Now to the left. Well, sir," he exclaimed angrily, as we both emerged into a luxuriously furnished room, u and to what do I owe this intrusion?" Seeing that I hesitated to answer, he went on, "Ah, curiosity, I suppose, with a weak desire to expose what you consider a sham. Have I not deserved better at your hands? Did I not grant you life when first you intruded amongst us? and have I not advanced you since—that is, through my agents? Yet you, like a viper that is nourished by a kind-hearted fool, have turned against your preserver. What mercy can you expect? None" (he answered for me, or I might have put in claim for a little). "However, for reasons of my own I do not choose to deal to you now that death you so justly deserve, but prefer to keep you with me in constant attendance on my person."

"Then how long, your holiness" (the title was a vague shot), "am I to remain a prisoner?"

"But I have just taken a wife, I have man) friends among the Nradas, I hold an important public position, and this is a piece of tyranny that I shall nut put up with, to be cut off from these eternally."

The great man smiled grimly at this outburst, but all the same his hand stole towards the dagger, to be ready in case of emergencies. "What redress have you?"

"I shall escape on the first opportunity, and let your dupes know the chicanery and fraud by which you keep up your mendacious position." He winced perceptibly at this. "If, on the contrary, you set me free, I promise most solemnly never to reveal one jot of the discoveries I have so inadvertently made, and to uphold your power and authority by every means in my power."

"I do not doubt your good intentions, Mr. Haltoun, but since if I set you free there is always the remote chance of my private affairs being made common property by a chance slip on your part, or, perhaps, in case of a fever, in the ravings of delirium, I prefer to err on the side of caution, and keep you here. As for your notions of escape, I may tell you at once they are futile. Were you to expend a hundred years in the attempt, you would never find other avenue than death, and that, let me add, 1 shall present to you without the asking, at the least sign of insubordination. And now do we understand one another?"

"Perfectly, so far as I am concerned," I answered, with a calmness warranted to make any man suspicious after the previous tirade. But then a thought had just flashed across my mind—"Dissemble, make believe you are satisfied, or at any rate resigned to your lot, and your opportunities of escaping will be increased a thousandfold. Nay, your very life depends upon your seeming acceptance of this man's propositions," and the warning voice was obeyed.

"Very well, then," rejoined Radoa. "For to-night I shall leave you here; to-morrow your duties will be settled on, and commenced. Are you hungry?"

Then bidding me good-night, he went out, locking the door behind him, with the evident intent of discouraging the rash explorer he left in the room from further premature discovery. There was no disguising from myself that the trouble was a serious one. I was between the devil and the deep sea with a vengeance; and a long way off the water. Even on the supposition I were to effect an escape—and I was quite prepared to put my fate to the issue, were there the vaguest chance of success—how much better off should I be? The ruler of the Nradas had a far-reaching hand—that, every one knew—and it stood to reason that he would not allow an escaped prisoner of his own, to go scot-free. Wild dreams occurred to me of departing to some distant rocky fastness and of there setting his power at defiance; of stirring up rebellion among his subjects by informing them of their ruler s something-or-other—to be fabricated as occasion should demand; or of taking Mona with me, and obtaining a passage, by force if need be, to the open air by the same shaft Jack and I before ascended. But one and all these mad projects contained some radical obstacle to success, and alike one and all they had to be discarded.

There was nothing to be done but to "grin and bear it," trusting that the "event of affairs" would suggest some plan more feasible and more hopeful.

Meanwhile, what would the home circle think of my prolonged absence? Not the smallest hint had I given, as you may guess, of my hair-brained errand; in fact, I had left the house stealthily, like a "thief in the night." Mona would be the first to get uneasy at my non-arrival, and she would communicate her fears to the rest; but not till very late, for my outgoings and in-comings were mighty irregular, and both Jack and I invariably left home on the understanding, "Don't expect me until you see me." m

But after the lapse of an hour, two hours, three hours after the extreme time she could set down for reasonable absence, Mona would be sure to acquaint her brother of the fact, and what then? They would await me anxiously, every minute getting more and more fearsome.

Probably messengers would scour my accustomed haunts in the hope of gleaning news. Their efforts would be futile, unavailing. Hours would grow into days, and days into weeks, but still no sign. Jack would probably suspicion a duel, and a quiet "putting away" of the victim; but Mona, what would she think? Would she in time give up all hope, and, blotting out the image of Tony Haltoun from her heart, or at any rate forgetting him, see some other man who pleased her eye, and maybe gained her affection, and wed him? A terrific supposition verily, but it disquieted me but little. I trusted and believed in my wife implicitly. Whatever others might do, she at least would never forget him who had been—nay, who was—her husband, and would be true to his memory.

Ah me! They were dreary thoughts these, but bidden or unbidden they were there, and thankful was I that hope, bright hope, and faith, unswerving faith, gave optimistic answers to their questionings. Had it been otherwise, I know not how I should have comported myself. Certainly not with the resignation which caused me to be received by Radoa in the way which is hereinafter set forth.

CHAPTER XXIX.
En Famille With A God.

WITHIN a week of this rude and informal introduction, Radoa and I were on the best possible terms—outwardly. True, I had to exercise great forbearance at times to prevent my temper getting the better of my prudence, for his manner was often overbearing, and my allotted tasks far from congenial; but in the evenings he would unbend, when in the bosom of his family, and be the best company imaginable. Yes, by the way, the family, I forgot that. There was a Mrs. R. and two children, a boy and a girl. I was a trifle startled on first coming into their presence, and Radoa noticed it.

"As you have probably guessed already," he said, "I am merely a mortal like yourself, and that youngster"—pointing to his son—"will step into my shoes when I join the great majority, even as I now stand in my father's. His mother "—she was a comely-looking body of about eight or nine and twenty, tall and well made, with refined intellectual features and full matronly figure—"his mother is a Nrada, chosen by my father, and married to me just ten years ago. In course of time I shall choose a wife for my son, from the same community, unless indeed, as we have sometimes thought of doing, one is selected for him from the world above."

"Oh, the ways and means are handy enough; the only question I am debating over, is which race is the more preferable. We have imported people who would prove useful to us before now."

I remarked on the advertisements one sees sometimes concerning "missing" young men or young women, and wondered whether any of them were traceable to Nradaland; whereon Radoa remarked, "Very likely."

Amongst my other duties, the task of assisting Mrs. R.—Mary her husband called her; I, Madam—was by no means the least onerous, as she kept me to my work with a carefulness worthy of an Egyptian taskmaster. And, by the way, the writer of these pages was not the only person she ruled. Being a bit of a termagant, she lorded it over her worser half in a way that was ludicrous to behold, especially when one called to mind his despotic rule over the rest of the nation. And he submitted to it mildly, working for her like a slave, which was rather surprising, seeing that he was by nature decidedly lazy and apathetic. Indeed, Charles Kingsley's definition of genius, namely, "an infinite capacity for taking pains," was never more clearly disproved; for the man decidedly had genius, as his power of retaining a difficult rule sufficiently demonstrated, but as for overcoming an obstacle by sheer painstaking—well, it was not in him. He would trust to chance and a bold move on the chessboard of Fate.

I had a good deal of his work to perform as well as his wife's. There were the reports of his deputies—men of the world, trained to govern their fellows by the versatility of their sympathies—to receive and acknowledge—by telephone; statistics to revise and keep up to date; the preparation of speeches for Radoa to deliver in the temple; and last, but by no means least, the most perfect system of espionage, worked by some acoustic apparatus similar to the telephone, to attend to, that was ever created. So, on the whole, my days were pretty fully occupied, and I was by no means sorry when evening arrived, and brought with it a meal, which was the signal to knock off work. After its completion we adjourned to a room whose walls and fittings were all of speck-less white marble, chased and carved with an almost superhuman art, and by no means affording that appearance of cold comfort which such a material generally carries with it. With myself and the other three listening with rapt attention to Radoa's utterances, powdered as they were with stars of epigrammatic brilliance, and overflowing with wit and humour—for he was by no means the same man here who awed a Nrada congregation with his powerful oratory—the whole made up one of those scenes that Alma-Tadema loves to immortalise with his brush—a view of one mind holding others enthralled, amid chaste and classic surroundings.

In the full enjoyment of these intellectual treats, to my shame be it said, I often forgot those cravings to be back again with my relatives which were never absent in the daytime, but the remorse such brief oblivion called for afterwards was a full atonement for the fault.

There was one trait of these evening meetings that could very well have been dispensed with, and that was Radoa's invariable habit of "making a wet night of it;" sometimes on a decoction of fermented beastliness, the product of a Nrada still, but more often on a brand of good Scotch whisky. He would, as regularly as the days came round in unchanging order, drink himself into that condition known to experts as "muddled;" though now and then, by way of a treat, he would pass these comparatively sober limits, and soak himself into a happy, maudlin oblivion. Now, had these bouts been attended with no other consequence than personal inconvenience in the shape of headaches et ea omnia to himself after they were over, they would have troubled me but little. Indeed, I might have seen in them a momentary release from a strict surveillance, and rejoiced in the prospect of increased freedom. But my gaoler was too wily; he commanded me, forced me, compelled me to indulge with him, and had a great notion, moreover, of "drinking fair." Fortunately, one of the few good things Cambridge had done, was to give me a "hard head," so these copious potations had not so much effect on me as they had on the less-seasoned "god," for Radoa never indulged in strong liquors till he had me to fall back upon. Still, none the less, I disliked them mightily, and strained every nerve to shirk my share. My boon-companion, in spite of repeated warnings, was getting enslaved more and more. The thirst engendered in the mornings by over-night dissipations called for more liquor, and, as a natural consequence, he was rarely sober. The whole of the work fell upon my shoulders, instead of only part of it, as heretofore; but as this employed me in the evenings, and allowed no time for soaking, I did not grumble.

Any one could see that things would shortly come to a climax, but the anxious wife and mother suffered most. I had nothing to lose, and all to gain; the children were too young to understand the full significance of what their father's downfall would mean for them, and the father himself was too happily miserable to care.

The wretched woman had appealed to her husband in vain, and at last, mastering her natural dislike to converse on such a home subject with an alien, she broached it to me.

"Is there any means of stopping the supplies? That is the only remedy I can think of. So long as he can get drink he will consume it."

"None that I know of," she rejoined de-sparingly. "They are sent in from without, and he receives everything himself. Have you ever helped?"

"No more have I. I do not even know how they come. That is the one secret," sighed the poor woman, "that my husband has not shared with me."

And we talked a great deal more in this strain, but arrived at no satisfactory conclusion. The next day Radoa appeared in the temple when decidedly drunk, and narrowly escaped a fiasco. Undeterred by this, he kept on exactly the same as before, and two days afterwards, when the appointed hour arrived, he was so bad that his state could not possibly escape notice.

"You had better not show up to-day, sir." (By the way, I had rung the changes on "your holiness," "your highness," "your lordship," and every other title that occurred to me, and finally settled on "sir," by request.) "I will not answer for the consequences if you do."

But by the way he boggled over the "quite capable," I could see he was not so, by any means, and made one final appeal, standing in front of him.

"Really, sir, you had better stay away. You will only break down, and that means ruin, not only to yourself and family, but to the dynasty as well."

"Stand aside,"he repeated viciously, "or—" and he disclosed the hilt of a dagger hidden beneath his robe.

"Go, then, you self-willed fool," I mentally ejaculated. "I have already exceeded my duties, though your downfall would bring me liberty, and a return to my friends. Go, and bad luck attend you."

Radoa's little niche in the temple was not entered by the road I had so unceremoniously and unexpectedly taken, but through a hinged slab, invisible from the outside, behind one of the concealing mirrors. At the back of this I took my stand, listening attentively, and peeping meanwhile through a tiny slit.

There was something grotesquely comic in the appearance of this great deity, this powerful potentate, this immaculate paragon appearing before his devotee-subjects as drunk as that much-maligned bird, the owl. But the serious element was greatly mixed up in it as well. The worshippers could not fail to note, if they used any of their senses, that he who addressed them was profoundly agitated, and if they discovered by any chance the cause of that agitation, there would be a revolution, doubtless a bloody one, and Nradaland would be initiated into a new form of government

Already all heads are gazing fixedly in one direction, attracted thereto by the sudden in-coherency of the once powerful and striking speaker. Some one notices that he reels and staggers, and rises from his seat. Others follow the example set them, and in a moment a surging crowd has invaded the priestly sanctuary and is dashing its troubled waves at the very foot of the alcove itself.

Its occupant vaguely grasps the fell significance of the act, and steps aside out of sight; and the mob, terrified at its own temerity, shrinks back awe-struck, and departs trembling from the sacred precincts. The culprit, for assuredly he was no less, completely sobered by the shock, motioned me to accompany him to his study, the room where we had our first unwelcome interview.

"Just so; then I have; listen. No one, now, is better aware of the consequences of the scene we have just witnessed than myself, and probably no one has a better idea of its real cause. You are the cause, and unless you undo the evil you have occasioned I shall remove you to avoid a repetition."

The bloodthirsty look that accompanied this threat of "removal," there was no mistaking; but how could I, however innocently, have been the cause of Radoa's misfortune? I asked, with real and genuine wondering surprise.

"It is in this way," he said. "Before your prying curiosity brought you here as an unwelcome intruder, I was perforce compelled to perform all the labour of my office alone and unaided. The demon of laziness pointed to you as a competent assistant sent by Providence to lighten my too often unwelcome tasks, and I accepted the favour. Witness the result: you toiled, I rested. At first I made you share in my revels, but as they daily grew more and more alluring, so did your participation in them decrease, little by little, till you assumed the whole of my aforetime duties, whilst I was wholly occupied with destroying my faculties with drink. Had you not come, such a course would have been impossible. So, I propose to you: extract me from the difficulty, make my name as great or greater than it was before, remove this stain, or—you know the alternative. And now I will leave you here alone—to think.

CHAPTER XXX.
How To Quell A Rebellion.

"O pity, God, this miserable age!
What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly,
Erroneous, mutinous and unnatural,
This deadly quarrel... doth beget."

IT is, I believe, a universally recognised fact that nothing quickens the inventive faculties like necessity. It is a stimulus that incites the highest tension of brain power as naturally as the excitement of a boat race lays bare hitherto undiscovered stores of thew and sinew. Necessity alone will call into action powers which, but for it, would lie dormant to all eternity—that is, always supposing those said powers exist.

That the faculty of invention was in my composition had already been clearly demonstrated to me on more than one occasion; but in this, my hour of urgent need, its oracle was dumb, and woe was me, for I could not work it. Mere speech, however powerful and eloquent, would never reinstate Radoa on that pinnacle of fame and worship on which he was now so insecurely tottering. Words could never explain away the awful fiasco which had well-nigh shattered his power. Were every other man in the nation to get up and address his neighbour with heartfelt eloquence, and to assure him that his scepticism in their ruler's divinity was unfounded, neither speakers nor hearers would be persuaded. Nothing short of some, to them, supernatural phenomenon would effect a cure, and oh, for even a moiety of the combined brain of Messrs. Maskelyne and Cook to help me think of one! But a carven figure of wood or stone could not have been gifted with less imagination than I had just then.

In vain did I rack my brain in the hopes of finding a hidden store in some obscure corner, but hour after hour went by without anything coming to light. And each minute, too, brought into more substantial shape the dread of that alternative which would be given without the slightest compunction or remorse.

Naturally you ask why did I look forward to it thus hopelessly? Why did I not make at least some struggle for the mastery against this man, who so ruthlessly tyrannised over me? I answer that there was not the least fear of Radoa having an unresisting victim to exercise his talents upon, for I had every intention of not resigning my place in this world without a struggle; but of the issue there could be little doubt. I am strong, certainly, and was desperate, but Radoa was infinitely my physical superior; he would be on the qui vive for a possible outburst, and he was armed with a sharp dagger to encounter it, which I was not, for there was no weapon of any kind about the room. So, on the whole, things were looking blue—blue as the Mediterranean.

Hark! a footstep without. Here he comes. Not the Radoa of yesterday—a drunken . sot. leering stupidly from bloodshot eyes, but the Radoa whom first I knew—stern, handsome, and commanding—the former man revived, as if by magic.

(This, as the reader may conjecture, was as rank a lie as ever choked sinner, but it gained time.)

"I haven't had time to mature my plan fully yet. Let me have a little while longer."

The chasm! Ha! got it at last. He referred to a yawning and apparently bottomless gulf, into which all the household débris was thrown, a duty which frequently fell to my lot. It ran beneath the chancel of the temple, which strode over it upon arches.

"It is this—to undermine the supports of the arches on our side of the chancel, so that at a given moment a little extra manipulation would precipitate the whole flooring into the gulf below."

"It would be a grand coup"—musingly—u and though dangerous, still practicable. Let us go and examine the place carefully. After you."

"The preparations will take a considerable time," he went on, after looking around him in silence for several minutes, "but that can be arranged for. An order shall be given that every one is to appear on the fourth day from this—I dare delay no longer—to hear sentence pronounced on those who have rebelled. Meanwhile the task before us is colossal, A gallery must be driven through the rock, which is luckily soft and yielding, alongside the foot of the arch, and from it we can attack the stonework. Commence now, and I will join you shortly. There are all the necessary tools in the store-room behind my study. Your brave drill would have done good service here, but to get one would be to excite suspicion, so we must e'en set to with our hands."

He left me, and I started work on one side of our pathway, which abutted on the chasm as nearly as I can guess just beneath the middle of the chancel. Returning presently, he commenced work on the opposite side, and for some time the only sound was that of our pickaxes ringing together in unison. Clink, clink, clink, they went almost incessantly, with only here and there a short respite to clear away the debris, and heave it over the ledge into the hungry abyss beyond.

Though we were both stripped to the waist, perspiration exuded from every pore. My coworker was the first to speak.

"No more we shall, but I can work no harder, and nor can you. Moreover, we shall be compelled to knock off soon for a spell of rest."

"My wife and the children must take our places. Their services will not be of much avail, but every ounce they remove .will leave so much the less for us."

And so we toiled on, scarce taking any rest—work, work, work, with blistered hands and aching arms, men, woman, and children alike. But in the allotted time the task was completed, and utterly wearied as all were, we could not but help brightening up with a sort of hysterical access of strength in prospect of the grand culmination of our labours. Radoa is sans peur, at any rate, if not sans reproche, and he stood out there in the accustomed place before his rebellious subjects, as cold and unimpassioned as if nothing out of the common were about to happen Yet he knew full well that within a space of time that could be measured by minutes, a considerable portion of the magnificent fane before him, the grandest the world has ever produced, would be laid in ruins, and quite possibly the destruction intended only for part might overwhelm the whole.

"When you hear me say,; Prepare to meet your doom,'" he had said to us—that is, his wife and myself—beforehand, "knock away the supports. All rests upon two points, so you may take one apiece. And be careful," he added, addressing me more particularly, "not to be tardy in the execution of this duty, for all the good results which will accrue from it, may possibly be endangered by an unlooked-for delay."

"Now mind, no mistakes. You will hear me perfectly through this telephone, and 'Prepare to meet your doom' is the cue."

On his first appearance he was met by an angry murmur from the vast congregation, indistinct and inarticulate, it is true, but none the less significant from worshippers who were accustomed not only to meet their deity in silence, but even to receive him with downcast eyes, as if fearing that his gaze, sphinx-like, might turn them to stone. But he on whom all their looks were cast took no notice whatever of this stormy outburst. He simply held his peace and gazed straight before him, and like a pack of erring school-children before a strict master, they felt their courage oozing out at their finger-ends, and their bravado utterly cowed; and they were silent as statues. Then, and not till then, did he whose voice had so often filled the temple speak. Never to my dying day shall I forget his words. They are as ineffaceably impressed on my memory as was Histiasus' letter on his unfortunate slave's head: they were burnt in with the white-hot branding-iron of horror.

"Nradas," he began, and in the first word they could perceive that the old sonorous ring had returned to his voice, the old force to his diction—"Nradas, it is now four days since last I stood before you—an interval in my concourse with my subjects such as has not occurred since the world was young, and one which will be attended by the most serious consequences, fraught with danger to you all.

"For many months an undercurrent of scepticism and unbelief has been noticeable, fondly believed by those who nurtured and nourished it to be hidden within the inner consciousness of themselves and their confidants. But let them know that nothing can be hidden from omniscience, no more than can the vengeance of omnipotence be avoided by those who sin. The would-be rebels might have been wiped out of existence, and hurried into eternity by the mere upraising of a single finger, but that they might have a last chance of repentance, and in the event of their spurning it, that their expiation might have a salutary effect on the survivors, a test was prepared. You all know what it was. Never has this sacred building witnessed a scene such as that which was enacted within its walls only a few days ago, and never will it see crime so awfully atoned for. Let those misguided ones who rushed forward before, again come forth, that they may hear their sentence."

There was no response to this invitation. Like "Ducky! ducky! come and be killed," of farmyard memory, it had the effect of making one or two wary ones move towards safer quarters. But Radoa was equal to the emergency. Again his trumpet voice pealed forth.

"Listen!" said he. "The first who crosses the portal signs the death-warrant of all, innocent and guilty alike. The roof shall fall, and the ruins of the great temple of Flangerrode will cover the holocaust of every mortal now beneath it."

Such was the power the man held over his subjects, that this threat, empty though many of them must have known it to be, had the desired effect; and one and all, as if petrified by the command, they stood or sat perfectly motionless.

"And now, for the last time," he went on, "I ask the transgressors to stand forth. Force I will not use. An they obey not the mere request, every man, woman, and child around them shall share a like fate."

This exhortation had the desired effect. Some went willingly on their own accord; others through the pressing inducement of near neighbours who feared for their own skins; but in all about two hundred poor wretches marched v to within the sacred precincts of the chancel and stood there in different attitudes of expectation, awaiting future development.

This was our cue, but Radoa's wife alone acted on it: her assistant, paralysed with horror, and streaming with its cold perspiration, stood motionless and inactive before the slender pier he had been deputed to demolish. With the idea that Radoa's project was merely to place an impassable gulf between himself and his rebellious subjects, I had entered into the scheme with avidity—nay, it was the outcome of my own brain. But this new development I was in no wise prepared for. To be instrumental in launching two hundred souls into eternity! Why, the most hardened of murderers would have quailed at the very thought, even had every individual one of the victims been an utter stranger to himself. And here it was different. I had many, many friends among the Nradas, and still more acquaintances—nay, to some of them I was related. And what more likely than that Cyril Spencer, with his outer-world ideas, and his at times undisguised contempt for Radoa, should be among the intended victims? If he were a member of the congregation at the time of the outbreak, his being amongst the rioters was a moral—no less. And his sister too, Mona, my wife, what of her? My teaching during the whole of our intercourse had not been calculated to inspire respect for one whom I tried to make her regard as a rank impostor. Maybe she, too, was amongst the crowd I was called upon to slay.

How needless to say, then, that no thought of destroying the frail support occurred to me! Better, far better, incur the inevitable wrath of Radoa and its equally inevitable consequences than stain one's hands with such a frightful crime.

"Prepare to meet your doom!" rang out a second time, and in a louder key, as if the speaker feared his voice had not carried to those whom it was intended to reach. My mental query, How will he meet this emergency?

Will he be equal to it? Yes. He looks round, from one side to the other, scanning the faces before him. "All," he cries, "all are not here of those that sinned. None may escape. Should one be harboured by his friends, then shall both he and they suffer alike."

I could see his idea. He knew that the chancel floor trembled in the balance, and that but little was required to start it on its journey. That small additional weight, the new-comers would furnish. One by one they came, slowly and unwillingly, the inexorable judge standing stern and silent, though inwardly terribly anxious withal. Surely the fretted arch can bear no further strain! The next comer must start it. No! The next, then. No! Other two; one more. Yes; he was the last straw.

With a sickening crash the solid masonry crumbled into its component dust, and a plat form of unbroken stone carried a living freight of nearly two hundred and fifty human beings on a voyage to the shades below.

There was a terrified murmur among the survivors, but Radoa, intoxicated with the subtile fumes of success, raised his voice far above it.

"See," he exclaimed, "the fate of those who dared even to think rebellion, and learn a lesson from it. Earth, at my command, has opened her mouth to swallow them up. The gulf shall remain as a memory of this day. Should occasion arise to repeat the punishment, I shall imagine that the salutary effect of this one is insufficient, and not half the temple, but a half of all Flangerrode itself shall be similarly involved in overwhelming ruin."

And having given utterance to this awful threat, he disappeared, and the decimated congregation, glad of an opportunity of quitting the terrific spot, followed the example set them with almost marvellous celerity.

CHAPTER XXXI.
The Cuticle Of A Tooth.

"He that stands upon a slippery place
Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up."

WHEN the platform of stone, with its unhappy freight, descended, it did so intact, and compressed the air beneath it like a piston. To this I owed my salvation, for the vapoury force pressed me violently against the-back of the cavity wherein I crouched, and so shielded me from being sheared away by the gigantic planing machine as it descended. The tunnel which gave access to my roost fared worse, however, being "wiped out" into the gloom below. So that voluntary retreat was cut off. But of this I thought little. With nerves strung at top tension by the expectation of the event which had just happened, and physical powers at their lowest ebb through overwork and want of rest the mental shock—one that would have acted on even Mr. Rider Haggard, accustomed as he must be to scenes of slaughter from his own writings—was too much for me. There was a singing in my ears, and a dancing of lights before my eyes. Then sight was taken away, darkness supervened, and I collapsed inanimate in a dead faint.

How long this continued I have no means of knowing, and why the narrow ledge—it was scarcely two feet wide—did not reject me into the fathomless gulf below will also for ever remain a mystery. This only I know, that on the first shuddering return to consciousness it was with difficulty I restrained a slightly insane tendency to add myself to the seething mass of festering humanity which imagination showed dimly limned in the latent depths below. The abyss exercised a fascination over me, much the same as a snake does over its bird victim, inexplicable, but almost impossible to resist. But exercising all my powers of will, I managed it in the end, and began to sum up the situation. This operation did not take long. To free myself was impossible, but Radoa could haul me up, though, from above.

I wondered intensely that he had left me so long unrescued, and waited anxiously till he should do so. Time on occasions such as these does not skip along on winged foot as it does in a ball-room with a fascinating partner. On the contrary, each hour is divided into sixty parts, which correspond to the weeks of every-day life, and the seconds here spin themselves out into extremely long days—midsummer ones. So it may rightly be judged I rapidly got tired of . waiting, and though conscious that such a proceeding would be eminently distasteful to Radoa, I resolved on hailing him to call attention to the pressing need of his assistant.

said Hamlet, and I also, with another place almost equally dangerous and terrific yawning before me, lifted up my voice in speech. It was a crescendo movement. At first I indulged only in those loud and concentrated whisperings which are popularly supposed to be audible only to him (or her) they are intended for. These zephyrs proving of no avail, a lusty breeze next rattled mouthwards through my larynx, causing a hubbub distinctly audible at a considerable distance, which in its turn gave place to full gale and hurricane, as the storm, collecting all its energies for a final effort, verged into a perfect tornado of yells that made the vaulted echoes ring again.

But it is both a tiring and a painful occupation, shouting for long, especially if you are not in the very best of training to commence with, it makes one ache all over, and those muscles, which work the bellows become pre-eminently painful. The back of the throat feels as if a hail of sand-shot, earned along by the stream of wind impinged against, scarified, and desiccated, the wounded surface. In time one portion or other of the machine grows so feeble that the whole works with less and less power, and its speed gradually dwindles to a standstill.

"When my voice reached this state—that is, when it ceased to exist—I set myself a-thinking. Clearly Radoa must have heard the row equally clearly he did not intend to render me any assistance, but proposed to himself that I should remain where I was so long as the position pleased me, and then change it for another down below, which was easily accessible. But the scheme was an unpleasant one for its chief actor. And I had a better idea, which was to await the next daily service in the temple, and then to use my lungs with more effect. If the Nradas knew all I could disclose, they would rescue me to help them wreak a dreadful vengeance on their tyrant.

So with this and other amiable projects for the welfare of my late gaoler and employer coursing through my brain, I spent the next few hours with less tedium than their predecessors.

With no precise means of calculating the passage of time, it is difficult to know to a nicety exactly how far it has progressed; thus when the hour, which in my own private opinion I considered "service-time" went by without any evidence even of preparation, it caused me no serious uneasiness. But when several of its fellows followed on, all alike unprolific of the desired result, the unpleasant thought began gradually to protrude itself, that maybe Radoa had foreseen my amiable plan, and had forestalled me by issuing an edict that there would be no meetings in the temple, and that no one was to enter it.

Other two hours dragged their weary length through, and I was certain of it, and so fell to shouting again. But this time the human foghorn would only work for a very short spell. I felt it, and only put on steam at intervals.

"Who—whoop" was the sound it uttered, an old Cambridge club call, very penetrating and ear-splitting.

"Who—whoop!" Surely some passer-by must hear that and wonder what it may be. His prudence, though, seems to get the better of his curiosity when he remembers how the curiosity of many of his friends, recently deceased, was discouraged.

"Who—whoop!!" By Jove, that was a good one: it made the temple ring like a bell, and retain its resonance for fully a minute. When silence supervenes it is almost painful after such loquacious company. Stay, though, it does bring one consolation—facility for hearing other sounds. And yes—no—yes, there is something to be heard. A footstep, stealthy, cautious, and cat-like, getting at every beat more distinct, and therefore nearer. Suddenly it stops, and I fancy I can hear the pulsations of a breath on the opposite side of the chasm. The Stygian darkness prevents a sight of anything, so I venture on a quiet "Halloa?"

11 Tony I is that really you? I am Cyril Spencer." (He needn't have added that: I recognised the voice that exclaimed "Tony!" instantly.) "I'll go and fetch a light."

I briefly recapitulated the part which it had been my fate to act in the drama of the last few days, describing the exact position which socially and bodily I occupied, and then asked if he could extricate me.

"H'm; that's a bit over five-and-twenty in a straight line, isn't it? I'm bothered if I know how to bridge it."

"Not of that length; besides, if I could, it would attract the attention of the whole town."

"Wait a minute. Get a stout iron spike and a hammer, and something to muffle it as well."

Returning presently, he whispered across, "Look out, I've got a small cord with a ball at the end to pull the other one over with. Catch! Missed it? Here you are again! Oh, bother! Well, third time does it: that's well. Now haul on that, and you'll get the thicker one. Now mind again: I've slung the hammer on to it, and am going to let it slip down. Got hold? Well, look out for the spike. Drive him in firm, and I'll fasten the other end of the rope on to one of these seats. Now can you shin up?"

I doubted it, but offered to try. The rope was one of wire, about as thick as my thumb, but pliable as manilla. Reaching upwards at an angle of forty-five, no amount of tension we could bring to bear upon would keep it tight, and it bagged out most inconveniently.

"I say, before you start, just tie a loop round yourself and the rope, so if you get giddy and lose hold, no great harm will be done. Even if you don't feel its need, it will give you confidence; and being suspended on a cobweb like this over that hole is rather squeamish work."

"Oh, sorry, 1 forgot. Look out, and I'll sling some nippers down to you. I put 'em in my pocket, thinking they'd be useful."

"Top side of the rope with your back up the hill, if you can, otherwise it will be awkward work landing on this bank."

"All right then, I'm off." For the benefit of any benighted reader who has never shinned along a thin wire rope suspended over an awful abyss into which a short time before he (or she) has seen a large crowd of people hurled to their death, let me say that the sensations it causes are highly disagreeable, though possibly unique. I could not analyse them if I would, so if any one of the small minority referred to is of an inquiring turn of mind, my only advice is, try it in person. Before starting, though, it is advisable to see that the fastenings of the rope are secure. I fancied that I had done this, but when half through my perilous journey, discovered my mistake. The rope was getting baggier and more baggy, which signified either that Jack's end was drifting, in which case I should subside head-downwards, or that the iron spike which had been my own particular care was "drawing;" which was the case.

I felt it move a little every time I made an upward jerk, and accordingly endeavoured to squirm along with gentler motion. But one cannot fight against fate; nobody can escape his Kismet. The spike gave, as it was ordained it should, and I fulfilled my destiny by swinging, an inert mass, against the wall, from whose top I was suspended. Though well prepared for such a catastrophe, the bang against the hard rock knocked me completely breathless, and took away the power of keeping a firm grip on the rope. For a moment or two it slipped through my fingers, and bub for the iron which was still on the end, I must have shot off into the depths below.

"Hold on a minute. Now look out. I've let down another rope, with a loop at the end; slip your head and shoulders through, and I can give you a help. Oh, you're coming along grandly now. Mind your claws on the edge; here, take my hand; steadily now, don't jerk, or you'll pull me over. That's it grandly. Well, Tony, I'm glad to see you. Shake hands, old man."

"Well, to tell the truth, Mona is not in such good health as she might be. You see, when a young woman has the bad taste to be rather in love with the man she has just married, and he takes it into his head to disappear one fine day without leaving an address, she is apt to get alarmed as to his personal welfare, and to imagine all sorts of dreadful things about him, which has a direful effect on the health. In fact," he added, dropping the bantering strain, and speaking quite seriously—" in fact, Freda and I have been quite alarmed about her. Poor girl, she had to take to her bed a week after your disappearance with a nasty touch of brain fever, and nothing but a rattling good constitution would have pulled her through. But there's no time to chatter now. Let's pull up the rope and quit."

"Because, my friend, you were evidently not intended to come on this side, and we may as well let your late host think his kind plans have been carried out."

"Very well, as you like. But let us go along home, then: I am rather anxious, as you may guess, to get there."

On the road thither, my companion suddenly stopped me with, "I say, look here, you ought to know. Hasn't Radoa got some infernal system of espionage by which he will know of your presence at the house, or is the tradition we have always held to that effect a mere fable?"

"No, it's true enough, and a good thing you spoke, for it had slipped my memory entirely. However, I am sufficiently behind the scenes to know an antidote. I will sever the connection with part of the house, leaving it on with just a few rooms, so as to allay any suspicion he may have of my presence."

"Bravo," said Mr. Spencer, admiringly. "You are getting clever in your old age. Here we are now; you set to work cutting the wires, or whatever you are going to do, and 111 just break your resurrection gently to the girls."

My work was comparatively simple, and I had finished it long before Jack's diplomacy—which is not his highest attribute—had brought him within reasonable distance of what he was driving at. I met him rushing out of the room where his sister lay.

"Of course, I've put my foot in it and made her bad. You'd better go and try your hand," he said, and in another minute a head crowned with an aureole of ruddy auburn hair was lying on my breast, and my wife's tiny hands were clasping me convulsively to her as if they would never release the unworthy being who had so unwillingly forsaken her. But there are scenes which should be sacred to those who create them. To share them with a third person—be it even you, my lord reader—is a profanation. Hence end the chapter and start afresh.

CHAPTER XXXII.
A Crucial Question.

"When any great design thou dost intend,
Think on the means, the manner and the end."

"JOY never kills." Indeed, to Mona it proved a most excellent tonic, and under its exhilarating influence she recovered her strength with almost marvellous celerity. Her illness, you see, had been more mental than anything else, and convalescence was retarded by the initial cause of the malady still being extant. But for days after our reunion I was not allowed out of her sight.

"Don't leave me, Tony," she would say, "or I shall be on thorns the whole time, lest you should be spirited away once more."

But obviously I could not go on living en cache for ever, and one day when Mona had recovered her full health and spirits we held a grand council meeting. There were present Mr. and Mrs. Jack and Mr. and Mrs. Me, with my brother-in-law in the chair, or rather, to be strictly accurate, perched in his favourite posture on a corner of the table. The proceedings were quite informal, although their import was grave, and I shall endeavour to reproduce them as such.

The chairman's opening speech was, "You're, pretty nigh fit again now, Mona, ain't you?"

"That's good business, for I want to ask what you and Tony intend to do. To stay here cabined, cribbed, confined, in two or three small rooms for ever, is impossible; besides, sooner or later the facts must leak out, and then there'll be an explosion. Furthermore, for Tony to march out into the public streets is, I need scarcely say, nothing short of sheer suicide. He would be snapped up straightway by the powers that be, and put conveniently out of the road, on the principle that dead men excel all others in the art of keeping silent on things which don't concern them. Have you made any plans for the future?"

"To tell the honest truth, no," said I, speaking as senior partner of the interested firm; "can you suggest any feasible ones?"

He answered somewhat jesuitically, "I would rather hear your own ideas first. Make some, if there are none already manufactured."

"H'm, well, it isn't a thing to be decided on hurriedly. Mona and I had once some scheme of bolting to a region yet to be settled on, which would be beyond the range of Radoa's rule, where we might found a little Eutopia of our own, and welcome other unfortunates who made Flangerrode and the other big towns too hot to hold them. But I fancy it would only degenerate into a refuge for impenitent thieves and unsuccessful rogues of every species."

"I should say decidedly not; but leaving that question alone for a moment, let us look at another. How would you live? What do you personally know about agriculture or pisciculture? Why, man alive, you couldn't grow a turnip or manage trout spawn in open daylight, let alone when both have to assume the etiolated habit, which is contrary to their original nature, and therefore only brought about by judicious humouring."

"Oh, but you can pick up some hints, and then impart them to me at second-hand."

"Nothing of the kind. It is a life's labour to learn how to do these things. The Nrada market gardener has lived among his cabbages from his very babyhood, and has carefully studied all their whims and eccentricities. The fisherman culls his knowledge from the immense stock which his forefathers have collected, and is never reckoned sufficiently proficient to put his theory into practice till his experience has been of many years' duration. And then, again, you would not expect to find your squatment ready supplied with electricity for lights and motors, and without the assistance of specialists and experts you would never get it. The Elysian fields that Mona has, I'm afraid, pictured to you, could not by any possibility be better than some narrow cavern, dank and unwholesome, slimy and full of evil gases, wet, barren, lonely, horrible, ghastly, awful. And besides, on your own showing, such an exodus could not be made without Radoa's knowledge, and you can hardly suppose that he would for one moment permit it. Even supposing that you managed to reach the goal, it would only be to be dragged back with ignominy to an awful death. No, Tony, you must give up that idea."

"Well, I see nothing for it but to break down an ideal, to shatter an idol, or whatever you choose to term it, and to let the Nradas see Radoa in his true colours."

"Convene a meeting in my old lecture theatre, nominally for some other purpose, so as not to be interrupted, and address it myself, If I can get as far as that room incognito Radoa's rule will be over. His subjects shall hear everything I have learnt during a long residence with him—how his boasted antiquity is a mere fraud; how his supernatural powers may one and all be explained away by any one who knows 'how it's done;' how his immaculateness is as mythical as that of most other self-canonised saints; how in private life he indulges in petty sins and sensual luxuries as much as the most abandoned of those he rules over; how he spies on his subjects by a detestable system of espionage which they are never safe from; how he preserves his power by a secret society of devotees, who, like his priests, mingle with their fellow-men only to betray them at a fitting moment, without themselves receiving the odium due to them for their act—how, in fact, his whole life is one tissue of lies, one deep mass of deception."

"Bravo, Tony! Nothing like vilifying a man thoroughly whilst you're at it, is there, Freda? And supposing you were to, get all that out, it possibly might have the desired effect. Mind, I say 'supposing,' as personally I don't think you would."

"Because the lesson which would-be mutineers learnt the other day from the fate of those who actually did rebel, has burnt itself in pretty deeply, and before you got out half-a-dozen words your audience would simply strangle you off-hand, just to show their loyalty."

"Don't agree with you there. Remember, I'm not unknown, and many people will be curious to learn what has become of me all this long time. Besides, I have always carefully refrained heretofore from having any arguments whatever about our rulers and governors. Hence, when I speak on such a subject for the first time, my words will have all the more weight. When Von Moltke speaks, the Reichstag is all ears."

Mr. Spencer made some impudent remark about the modesty of the comparison, and then continued his objections. "There's another thing," he said; "it may be that if you explain fully your participation in the other day's holocaust, the audience may not share your views on the subject. They may say that it was originally your idea, and so hold you guilty of the consequences, in which case you would be decidedly out of the frying-pan into the fire. They could not only execute Radoa's vengeance for him, and so curry favour with those in high places, but also manage a small private one of their own. D'ye take?"

"Yes, partly, though I don't accept your deduction. But any way the remedy is simple—merely leave out that little episode altogether."

"Wrong again, my boy, as the schoolmaster said. You must tell the whole truth, or none at all. Don't you see that if Radoa were arraigned before his peers—as you say we all are—this would certainly crop up, and be twisted round to your disadvantage."

We all four discussed the matter for a long time, looked at it from every aspect, weighed all the chances—they were, without exception, 1 cons"—carefully, and were reluctantly forced to the conclusion that our project was futile.

Jack, like the timorous war-horse, had "scented danger from afar," and if our olfactory nerves were less accurate at long range, they were reliable for point-blank shooting.

"No, you people," said the chairman, u that fish won't fight; you must catch another and try him."

But the medium in which the rejected animal had swum, and from which he had been drawn, was thinly populated, and not another of its denizens could we draw forth. We sat there a-twiddling our thumbs for ever so long in silence, thinking, thinking, vainly thinking; one or two of us maybe almost despairing. It was Mona who broke the silence.

"Nradaland is no place for Tony: he must leave it, and you, Jack, shall find out how!"

If the devil himself had appeared through a crack in the floor and tried to take us back home with him, I scarcely think it would have startled us so much as did this proposition. . It's mover herself, was mightily agitated.

And was I to seek this involuntary exile alone? I asked, and was answered. Ah I no; history repeated itself once more. The bride of Abydos was again a reality, and my Mona might have been her who said:—

"Ah, were I severed from thy side,
Where were my friends, and who my guide?
Years have not seen, time shall not see
The hour that tears my soul from thee."

I clasped the taper fingers of her tiny hand in silence, fully appreciating the proffered sacrifice. Voluntarily and of her own free will, my wife had offered to leave friends, relations, house, country, fortune, the surroundings she had always lived amongst, all those of her own nationality, in order that she might cleave to her husband. Nor was it an improvement of state that she might look forward to. It was a forlorn hope she would partake in, first of all—a journey which, if it were known, would bring down a whole nation jealous of the secret of their existence, and vindictive .enough to take any vengeance on those whom they fancied might betray it. Supposing the passage, fraught with every conceivable danger and obstacle, to be forced, what would be her position? A stranger in a strange land, mated to a man who certainly was a native of it, but whose former life had been an unmitigated failure—a pauper without a single sixpence.

I told her all this. I painted to her, in the vivid colours only known on the palette of him who has experienced it, the damning horrors of grinding poverty, and begged her, besought her—nay, implored her not to force me into it. Nradaland I would not leave. If ill befell me there, she had friends who would tend her carefully when I was gone. In England she would have none save the Poor-law Guardian with his ever-attendant workhouse, or—but I dare not frame, even to myself that other alternative. Besides, it would have been useless to do so: she could not have understood me. Such things are not known in Nradaland.

But my words were of no avail. She said, "I cannot force you to go, Tony, or I would. To stay here means certain death for you, and is equally hopeless for me, for I cannot live alone now."

She spoke quietly, but there was a look about her face which showed that these words strong as they were, were spoken under the influence of no momentary excitement. They were heartfelt and true—I swear it.

CHAPTER XXXIII.
"Aut Vincere Aut Mori."

"He who fights and runs away,
May live to fight another day,
But he who is in battle slain,
Can never rise to fight again."

EITHER to succeed in getting out of the confines of Nrada territory or to die in the attempt, so we resolved. As to how the stern project should be carried out—well, there we differed.

"Mona," I said, directly we were alone, "it won't do for Jack or Freda to be implicated in-this, at alL Supposing we come to grief we should involve them in the common ruin. We must get away without their knowledge: we must part for ever, without even saying goodbye."

"Yes, you are right, I suppose. It will be a wrench, but better so than always be haunted with thoughts—if we do make good our escape

—of leaving dear friends to bear the brunt of the blame which they certainly would get, if folk knew they had assisted a Nrada to leave her country."

She asked how, and I narrated all the circumstances, omitting only those awkward after-con sequences in which I had such a narrow escape from being sent to my death by her cousin's hand. She listened with breathless interests asking questions when I had finished on one or two principal points, so as to acquaint herself thoroughly with every detail.

"Now, what I propose is, that we should go to Oroon and force the guardians of the lift to give us a passage under pain of instant death."

"It couldn't be done, Tony; your height would betray you instantly. Remember, you are a head and shoulders taller than nearly everybody in Nradaland."

"But we can set out when people are in bed, and every one, without exception, turns in before twelve, or at the latest one o'clock."

"The rope-railway cars do not run at night; besides, they are being cleaned, and we cannot, therefore, get at them."

"Day will overtake us long before Oroon is reached, and people will be stirring again. No, Oroon will not do: we must find some other place; but who will tell?"

"Oh, he is Joe Joggetts, a mechanical acquaintance of mine: the boring machine brought us together first. He is a peculiar character, so you must be careful how you set to work. Oh, happy thought! I know. Tell him you think I have made a bolt of it up aloft, and you want to inquire at some of the depôts down here if they can give any clue to my disappearance."

I do not know whether my quondam friend knew what object Mona had in view when she so narrowly cross-questioned him, but he yielded up his information as easily as a newly-calved cow gives her milk. There was, according to him, hardly a large town in the country but what had its vertical connecting shaft with the world below. But of all of them none seemed more suitable for our present purpose than London, and for this reason. The road between it and Flangerrode was for the most part artificial—I mean to say consisted of tunnels driven by man through the solid virgin rock. And there were no bye-paths. Ergo, block up the main one and pursuit was cut off. I mentioned this to Mona.

"Blow up the tunnel if we find any one coming after us. Til make some nitro-glycerine."

"But, Tony dear, if we can leave Flangerrode unperceived, there will be no danger, for no one lives on the road."

"Yes; and its attendants have finished all their work by eight o'clock at the latest."

"Good. Then we need only tramp to its commencement. Luckily it needs no special skill to drive the engines, and supposing there is one we can lay hands on, the journey is as good as over."

Everything turned out prosperously. We each bade Jack and Freda farewell, as if for the night—though I noticed Mona put more warmth into her adieux than was perhaps judicious—and then retired, to all appearances, to bed. My wife really did lie down, much against her will, and only at my urgent request; but, somewhat naturally, could not snatch a wink of sleep. I busied myself in making a few preparations. Nrada costume would excite attention in the streets of London, so cloaks of some kind were necessary to hide it; and they were difficult to discover. And there was another thing. It had suddenly occurred to me that when experimenting on the boring machine, I had laid in a stock of diamonds for shoeing its cutting edge, and that but few of them had been used. Cautiously and quietly I crept towards the room in which they had lain, and after a long search, found them stowed away carelessly in a drawer, along with numerous other souvenirs of my brief occupation as mechanic. There were three or four good double handfuls of them, and returning as softly as I came, I made Mona take half and distribute them about her person, so that in case she escaped, and I came to grief, the means of subsistence would not be wanting to her.

These proceedings occupied us till after midnight; so, taking one last look at the house which sheltered us, and leaving a note on a, table to explain our hasty departure, we set out, never to return. Avoiding the principal streets, we passed along bye-ways deserted as the South Pole, and reached the rope-railway depôt without meeting a soul. A car was standing there, as if especially intended for us, and taking the semblance for the fact, we boarded it: I pushed a switch across, and we were fairly under weigh. An hour's ride without stoppage brought us to the terminus, where my ignorance of the locality nearly caused us a grave mishap, by reason of the sudden jar which the buffers gave the car when they brought it up. However, as they were specially adapted for such eventualities, there was no great harm done to either carriage or freight, above and beyond a goodly shaking. On getting out, there was not any cause for hesitation as to how to proceed. The small cavern we stood in was tenanted by but one building, which in its turn was occupied by two persons; and if one might judge from two distinct sets of snores in different keys, they were both asleep. Motioning Mona to stay where she was, I opened the door cautiously. Right before me lay the lift, or rather the shaft down which it descended, for the vehicle itself was out of sight—probably at the other end of its tether. To the right lay a door, within which its guardians were sleeping, with a key fortunately—for me—on the outside. I locked it, and peeped within the opposite doorway. Machinery, winding machinery, mechanical tools, etc, etc, nothing else.

Now to lower the lift. There was a switch lever in the engine-room, which looked as if it should serve that purpose, so I pulled it, saw the machinery start into motion, and listening at the bottom of the shaft, heard the cage descending. Presently it came to the bottom, and I reversed the engine prior to ascending.

"You must tie a rope to it. Be quick and find one, they are moving about in the next room."

"There isn't a scrap anywhere; I've been looking. We must tear a strip off one of these cloaks. Murder I how tough they are! There, that'll do; get in. Tipping! now we're off, and unless those beggars manage to break gaol down below, they can't stop us."

"Yes, and we must look out for squalls. Now, look here, Mona, in case of a row, promise me, whatever happens, to think first of making your own escape. They'll probably go for me, and I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

"You'll use no unnecessary violence, will you, Tony? Remember, the poor fellows will only be doing their duty if they attempt to stop us, as every instinct of their nature will compel them to do."

"Don't you fret on that score. All I am anxious for is to tread London streets once more, and to expend as little energy as possible in getting to do it. Here we are; hop out."

The cage had automatically come to a standstill: we found ourselves in a small room, pitchy dark, and closed in by stone walls and a heavily barred door, which was locked.

"The cage moving down again. I was standing close beside it. They must have broken out below there."

"Yes, and unless we look alive we shall have the whole rookery down about our ears. What a nuisance it is there is no light! Feel about for something to smash the lock with."

"Grandly. Try and move towards my voice. I am at the door now, and don't want to lose it. Oh, there you are! Thanks. Why, it is a crowbar—just the very thing I wanted. My word, this door is tough; it must have been made to stand a siege!"

"There is some one coming down the steps behind it, Tony. Don't let him hear you."

The crowbar ceased from trying to insinuate itself into the chinks, and presently a voice from the other side inquired, "Who's there?" '

The lock shot from the staple, the massive door swung on its hinges, arid there stood before us a man whose deshabille bore evidence to a hurried rising from a midnight couch. He saw there was something wrong, and attempted to parley, but on his disregarding my pretty plain hint of "By heaven! I'll make a ghost of him that lets me!" I knocked him flat, and together Mona and I rushed the stairs.

"Down that passage to the right now, and unfasten the street door. I'll cover the retreat, and follow on when you're out. Look sharp, now; here they come!"

My late antagonist, none the worse for his blow, had a hurried colloquy with the newcomers—there were three of them—and whilst he departed, evidently in search of something, they advanced boldly to the attack. Luckily for them, I had relinquished my grasp on the iron bar in the cellar, and none of us had weapons other than those with which nature had provided us; and with these we went hard at it, hammer and tongs. Although each individually was much my physical inferior, they were all, for Nradas, heavy, strong men, and between them managed to plant some telling blows. L'union fait la force, you know, and although singly I could have made a meal ofF any one of them, united they seemed inclined to do the same by me.

The inspiration was a happy one, for immediately after the barrier between me and the street was removed, and I made use of it. A turned-down gas-jet lighted the scene of warfare, and by its aid I saw my first antagonist returning—just as I was fleeing from his fellows—with something in his hand. It was one of those terrible spring guns, and its poisoned dart shot out past me into the street.

She sped down the empty street, and I followed. The Nradas pursued us for a short distance, the missiles preceding them at intervals, but finding we gained, they at length gave up the pursuit.

"Here, slip this cloak on, Mona," unstrapping a couple from my shoulders, and putting the other on myself, "or if anyone sees us they will think some cage-door has been left open. Remember, we are not in Nradaland now."

"In the capital of England, in the world's metropolis, in London, but beyond that I haven't the vaguest notion. Have you recovered your breath yet?"

"Well, we'll walk on. Oh, here's a policeman, I'll ask him to direct us. What's the name of this road? It's too dark to -see anything."

Then happened a strange coincidence. Mr. Walter Besant says that coincidences are dealt out at the rate of two per head per diem, so maybe there was nothing particularly strange about it—I am willing to concede that to any carper; but this cannot be denied, it was a very-lucky one. We had just emerged from Bernard Street into the Square, when a house door shut, and a man came along the pavement towards us. His walk seemed familiar, and, just as we met, a gas- lamp showed his features. They were those of my old Cambridge and Wideford chum, Gernstein, those of the only man in England I could with confidence call upon for help. The acquaintance was mutual. He regarded me attentively for a moment or two, and then broke out with" Tony Haltoun, by all that's wonderful! Now, where the—" He was going to say "devil," but seeing a lady at my side, stopped himself just in time, and substituted, "Where on earth have you hidden yourself all this long time, man?"

"Never mind that now; it's a long story, and will keep. Suffice it that my exile was an involuntary one. Help us to an hotel, that's a good fellow; and, by the way, let me introduce you to my wife—Mr. Gernstein."

"I'm staying at 'The Sheffield,' near Aldersgate Station. You had better come with me there."

Several months had passed since that night when I once more "viewed the stars pathing the heavens in ceaseless round," and Mona gazed at them for the first time, during which we had been roaming over field and fell, travelling by railway and water-way, staying here and there, and fairly revelling in the sight of blue skies and lovely scenery. At odd moments I had amused myself in putting on paper, in the usual rude, raw, rough, and rugged style of an amateur, the incidents which fill the foregoing pages, in furtherance of a certain end we both had in view. What this end was may be gathered from the following conversation. It took place at Wideford, at the house of one

Gernstein (where we were paying a long-promised visit), and in the billiard-room thereof. The apartment in question was, as has been aforementioned, one of peculiar comfort, and it maybe reasonably assumed that the small party assembled—Mrs. Haltoun, Mr. Gernstein, jun. and the present veracious one—were reclining at their ease in its luxurious chairs.

And supplemented her husband, "Oh, Mona takes to tobacco like an undergraduate." Then he asked vaguely, "Where is everybody?"

"Oh, I expect after the concert they have all gone to the Roones'—my father-in-law's, you know."

"Thanks for explaining your exact relationship to Mr. Roone. My memory is feeble, I know, but it will carry me back so far."

"One would think that, after your subterranean experiences, everything terrestrial—if that's the proper word to use—would have been totally and utterly forgotten."

"Have you got through that manuscript yet?" inquired the maligned one, scorning to take direct notice of the insult to his mental powers.

"Well, I've been trying to read it, but with ¦ out much success. Your hand is better adapted to holding a pipe, or maybe a tumbler, than the common or garden pen of commerce. Are you going to publish?"

"Then you must get it written out afresh. I know a poor devil who would be glad enough to do it for a few shillings."

"Yes, old man, it is. But then everybody has not the luck to land a cargo of diamonds in the way you did." Here Mona left us to join the others, who had just come in, in the drawing-room. And he added, "Or such a wife."

"My good chap," he said earnestly, "your wife is the most lovely woman I ever set eyes on, and beauty is her lowest and poorest attribute."

"Compliment?" said he. "It's no compliment; it is the universally accepted truth. But about this book?"

"Then take my advice. Weave it together into one continuous tale, with a little judicious garnishing, and call it 1 Romance,' 'Novel,' what you will—anything but history. People will only scoff and refuse to believe, or at least the majority would. You might, perhaps, get some credulous and romantic schoolgirl to force herself to swallow it, in order to enjoy the pleasing sensation of terror lest a Nrada boring-drill should penetrate the boards of her bedroom floor, and give access to a small individual, clad in tight apparel, on burglary intent. Why, man, every precedent is against you! What reliable history of the world, sacred or profane, ever made mention of a race who never saw the sun?"

"Yes, but initiators of an idea' like yours do not, as a rule, meet with universal credit. Can't you establish some better proof than yours and Mrs. Haltoun's bare words? You must remember—pardon my saying it—they won't go down with folks who don't know you."

"The one is filled up, and the others are disturbed past recognition. That was done directly after my arrival in Nradaland. We spent a week there a short time ago, hunting diligently, but failed to locate the spot."

"Why don't you advertise for the detectives who tried to take you to the police-station, so as to finger the reward I offered? They would be able to point out the house they searched, and once there you could easily prove your point by going down below again with a strong party, and establishing communications."

"That was done, too; but one man has bolted, and the other has most inconsiderately taken it into his head to die, and except through a spiritualist, it would be difficult to pump him now."

"And even that method would be a trifle unreliable, I fancy," added my inquisitor, dryly. "Well, another way," he continued, "would be to lay hands on some Nrada who is taking the air up here—surely you will come across one you have met before—and make him turn king's evidence."

"Eminently unsatisfactory. Wild horses—were there any to be got, which I imagine is not the case—would not tear the truth from them. Why, the other day I took Mona up to Cambridge to show her the 'almighty longest station in creation 1 and other pleasing sights which the University shows to strangers, and we met a man I knew at Flangerrode almost as intimately as I know you here. He was marching along Market Street with a tennis racket under his arm and a pipe stuck in his face, for all the world like any other undergraduate, staring hard at every girl he met, and swaggering along as if half the town belonged to him. The different circumstances under which we last met never struck me at the time, and rejoiced to meet once more, I accosted him as one undergraduate would another. "'Halloa, Stodson!'

"'I think you are making a mistake, sir; my name is Robinson—Robinson of Clare.'

"Thunderstruck at the unexpected rebuff, Mona and I both stared in blank amazement; and Robinson, alias Stodson, sauntered slowly along the street, not hurrying himself in the slightest, and to all appearance quite unmoved by the rencontre. It was no case of mistaken identity on my part. But then recollect the hard binding law, which, even had he known of our escape from the land of his fathers, he must perforce have kept to. 'No Nrada shall recognise another in the outer world, unless he be administering the affairs of his own nation.'"

"H'm, well, proofs don't seem forthcoming, and I am sorry for it, for the public will need some aid to digestion before they can swallow your story."

"And I am sorry for it too, for unless many believe it, my object in penning the history will be frustrated. For no one will search for a place whose very existence they do not credit. And think of the inestimable advantages which would accrue to humanity, if the Nrada and British nations were coalesced into one. Each would profit by the admixture of new blood and brains into its constitution, and together they would form a people powerful enough to hold their own against the united forces of the whole world."

"Yes," said Gernstein; "the idea is a very fine one, and philanthropic to boot, and if it comes off, they will give you a dukedom probably for your pains; but I shouldn't reckon too much on it at present, if I were you. And now, changing the subject slightly, what are your plans for the immediate future?"

"Well, we haven't made any definite ones as yet, but I was talking to Mona about Pard this morning, and probably we shall cut across there next week. It's getting, so cold in England now, and she feels it dreadfully after the warmth we are accustomed to in Flangerrode."

"Ah, say it's Mrs. Haltoun, old man; but I shall not believe you. The old vagabond instinct is cropping out again, and you'll wander, wander, wander, wander, I expect, right on to the end of the chapter. Why ever don't you settle down, and become a respectable member of society?"

"Couldn't do it. I should die from lack of occupation. Besides, why not travel? Those diamonds have made me a rich man once more, and both Mona and I want to look around us a little before verging into that state of deadly respectability which would result from what you are pleased to term 'settling down.'"

"Well, I expect you will have your own way, so it's of no use my wasting either breath or eloquence; besides, I have to get up early tomorrow morning for business, and bed is shouting. Good night."

ONE WORD MORE.

At present—that is, when you are perusing these pages—I am in foreign parts, having, as they say of tramps in the police-courts, "no settled residence." This being so, I can give no address to which you may send your inquiries for those "further details" which otherwise it would have given me infinite pleasure to offer; and, as a consequence, must ask you to digest this little book as best you may, without my aid. Do not say at the outset, "Oh, it's perfectly impossible," and think no more about it. Remember that almost everybody said that it was an utter impossibility to bridge the Atlantic with a telegraph wire, and that now it is crossed by dozens. Call to mind that our grandfathers would have attributed the locomotion of a carriage at any pace over twenty miles an hour, to the devil, whilst we know of many trains which travel a mile a minute. Do not forget that at the beginning of this century every one would have predicted a watery grave to an iron ship, had anybody launched one—which no one did—and that soon wooden vessels will be a curiosity; recollect that the ballistas of the Romans hurled stones of a few pounds weight for a few paltry yards, and picture to yourself the incredulity of those unbreeched worthies, had a prophet predicted the birth of a Woolwich infant, whose projectile, measured by hundredweights, would travel with composure for several miles; and having made these efforts of memory, do not stigmatise the contents of these pages as the babblings of a hair-brained idiot. But act thus: Carefully follow the motions of every man of pale complexion with whose antecedents you are unacquainted, and whose source of income is mysterious. If in trade, try to trace the ultimate destination of every parcel of goods you are connected with. And finally, into whatever house you enter, insist on examining the cellar. That, I feel persuaded, is the most probable means of discovering a road to the worlds below. Take no excuse. Penetrate the innermost recesses of the wine-bins; explore every inch of the chamber consecrated to the reception of cold meats; leave no stone unturned. And should you meet with a stern refusal to your request to explore, begin to suspect. The man who refuses to grant this trifling favour, probably fears lest you should discover a passage to a people which lie "Beneath your very Boots."

Wishing you every success in your search, and hoping to hail you as re-discoverer of Nradaland,

THE END

C.J. CUTCLIFFE HYNE

BENEATH YOUR VERY BOOTS

First published by Digby & Long, London, 1889 This e-book edition: Roy Glashan's Library, 2025 Version Date: 2025-09-11 Produced by Matthias Kaether and Roy Glashan All original content added by RGL is protected by copyright. Click here for more books by this author

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER I. Dead Low-Water.

CHAPTER II. The British Waiter.

CHAPTER III. Autobiographical.

CHAPTER IV. Cambridge.

CHAPTER V. On The Down Grade.

CHAPTER VI. On An Office-Stool.

CHAPTER VII. A Legacy.

CHAPTER VIII. My Uncle's Letter.

CHAPTER IX. Reconnoitering.

CHAPTER X. On The Road.

CHAPTER XI. Retrospective And Speculative.

CHAPTER XII. Conversational And Historical.

CHAPTER XIII. The Temple.

CHAPTER XIV. Mona.

CHAPTER XV. An Excursion.

CHAPTER XVI. Diamonds.

CHAPTER XVII. A Temple Of Thespis.

* * * * *

CHAPTER XVIII. Obsequies.

CHAPTER XIX. On Parole.

CHAPTER XX. A Scrap Of Sky.

CHAPTER XXI. A Broil.

CHAPTER XXII. A la Mort.

CHAPTER XXIII. The All-Absorbing Question.

CHAPTER XXIV. Invention.

CHAPTER XXV. An Execution.

CHAPTER XXVI. The Kamri.

* * * * *

CHAPTER XXVII. My Marriage.

CHAPTER XXVIII. The Penalty For Peeping.

CHAPTER XXIX. En Famille With A God.

CHAPTER XXX. How To Quell A Rebellion.

CHAPTER XXXI. The Cuticle Of A Tooth.

CHAPTER XXXII. A Crucial Question.

CHAPTER XXXIII. "Aut Vincere Aut Mori."

ONE WORD MORE.

THE END

First published by Digby & Long, London, 1889
This e-book edition: Roy Glashan's Library, 2025
Version Date: 2025-09-11

Produced by Matthias Kaether and Roy Glashan

All original content added by RGL is protected by copyright.

Click here for more books by this author

CHAPTER I.
Dead Low-Water.

CHAPTER II.
The British Waiter.

CHAPTER III.
Autobiographical.

CHAPTER IV.
Cambridge.

CHAPTER V.
On The Down Grade.

CHAPTER VI.
On An Office-Stool.

CHAPTER VII.
A Legacy.

CHAPTER VIII.
My Uncle's Letter.

CHAPTER IX.
Reconnoitering.

CHAPTER X.
On The Road.

CHAPTER XI.
Retrospective And Speculative.

CHAPTER XII.
Conversational And Historical.

CHAPTER XIII.
The Temple.

CHAPTER XIV.
Mona.

CHAPTER XV.
An Excursion.

CHAPTER XVI.
Diamonds.

CHAPTER XVII.
A Temple Of Thespis.

CHAPTER XVIII.
Obsequies.

CHAPTER XIX.
On Parole.

CHAPTER XX.
A Scrap Of Sky.

CHAPTER XXI.
A Broil.

CHAPTER XXII.
A la Mort.

CHAPTER XXIII.
The All-Absorbing Question.

CHAPTER XXIV.
Invention.

CHAPTER XXV.
An Execution.

CHAPTER XXVI.
The Kamri.

CHAPTER XXVII.
My Marriage.

CHAPTER XXVIII.
The Penalty For Peeping.

CHAPTER XXIX.
En Famille With A God.

CHAPTER XXX.
How To Quell A Rebellion.

CHAPTER XXXI.
The Cuticle Of A Tooth.

CHAPTER XXXII.
A Crucial Question.

CHAPTER XXXIII.
"Aut Vincere Aut Mori."