Изображения страниц
PDF
EPUB

Well," said she, at last, looking round us with a lofty air, which seemed half defying, "force and courage are always fascinating, even when they are quite in the wrong. I go with the world, because the world goes with me; if it did not- Here she stopped for a moment, clenched the firm white hand, and then scornfully waved it, left the sentence unfinished, and broke into another.

[ocr errors]

returned to Aleppo on hearing the tragic events And we all drew closer round our hostess, I have related, and was busied in collecting who remained silent some moments, her brow such evidence as could be gleaned, and insti- thoughtful, her work suspended. tuting inquiries after our missing countryman at the time that I myself chanced to arrive in the city. I assisted in his researches, but without avail. The assassins remained undiscovered. I do not myself doubt that they were mere vulgar robbers. Sir Philip had a darker suspicion, of which he made no secret to me, but as I confess that I thought the suspicion groundless, you will pardon me if I do not repeat it. Whether, since I left the East, the Englishman's remains have been discovered, I know not. Very probably; for I understand that his heirs have got hold of what fortune he left-less than was generally supposed. But it was reported that he had buried great treasures, a rumour, however absurd, not altogether inconsistent with his character."

"What was his character?" asked Mrs. Poyntz.

"One of evil and sinister repute. He was regarded with terror by the attendants who had accompanied him to Aleppo. But he had lived in a very remote part of the East, little known to Europeans, and, from all I could learn, had there established an extraordinary power, strengthened by superstitious awe. He was said to have studied deeply that knowledge which the philosophers of old called 'occult,' not, like the Sage of Aleppo, for benevolent, but for malignant ends. He was accused of conferring with evil spirits, and filling his barbaric court (for he lived in a kind of savage royalty) with charmers and sorcerers. I suspect, after all, that he was only like myself, an ardent antiquarian, and cunningly made use of the fear he inspired in order to secure his authority, and prosecute, in safety, researches into ancient sepulchres or temples. His great passion was, indeed, in excavating such remains in his neighbourhood, with what result I know not, never having penetrated so far into regions infested by robbers and pestiferous with malaria. He wore the Eastern dress, and always carried jewels about him. I came to the conclusion that for the sake of these jewels he was murdered, perhaps by some of his own servants, who then at once buried his body, and kept their own secret. He was old, very infirm; could never have got far from the town with out assistance."

"You have not yet told us his name," said Mrs. Poyntz.

"His name was Grayle."

[ocr errors]

"Grayle!" exclaimed Mrs. Poyntz, dropping her work, "Louis Grayle ?"

"Yes; Louis Grayle. You could not have

known him ?"

"Known him! No. But I have often heard my father speak of him. Such, then, was the tragic end of that strong dark creature, for whom, as a young girl in the nursery, I used to feel a kind of fearful admiring interest ?"

"It is your turn to narrate now," said the traveller.

[ocr errors]

Going with the world, of course we must march over those who stand against it. But when one man stands single-handed against our march, we do not despise him; it is enough to crush. I am very glad I did not see Louis Grayle when I was a girl of sixteen." Again she paused a moment-and resumed: "Louis Grayle was the only son of an usurer, infamous for the rapacity with which he had acquired enormous wealth. Old Grayle desired to rear his heir as a gentleman; sent him to Eton; boys are always aristocratic; his birth was soon thrown in his teeth; he was fierce; he struck boys bigger than himself-fought till he was half-killed. My father was at school with him; described him as a tiger whelp. One day he still a fag— struck a sixth form boy. Sixth form boys do not fight fags; they punish them. Louis Grayle was ordered to hold out his hand to the cane; he received the blow, drew forth his schoolboy knife, and stabbed the punisher. After that, he left Eton. I don't think he was publicly expelled-too mere a child for that honour-but he was taken or sent away: educated with great care under the first masters at home: when he was of age to enter the University, old Grayle was dead. Louis was sent by his guardians to Cambridge, with acquirements far exceeding the average of young men, and with unlimited command of money. My father was at the same college, and described him again-haughty, quarrelsome, reckless, handsome, aspiring, brave. Does that kind of creature interest you my dears ?" (appealing to the ladies).

"La!" said Miss Brabazon; "a horrid usurer's son!"

6

[ocr errors]

Ay, true; the vulgar proverb says it is good to be born with a silver spoon in one's mouth; so it is when one has one's own family crest on it; but when it is a spoon on which people recognise their family crest, and cry out, Stolen from our plate chest,' it is a heritage that outlaws a babe in his cradle. However, young men at college who want money are less scrupulous about descent than boys at Eton are. Louis Grayle found, while at college, plenty of well-born acquaintances willing to recover from him some of the plunder his father had extorted from theirs. He was too wild to distinguish himself by academical honours, but my father said that the tutors of the college declared there were not six undergraduates in the University who knew as much hard and dry science as wild Louis Grayle. He went into the world, no doubt, hoping to shine; but his father's name

The

what had become of him. And so in his old age this creature, brilliant and daring, whom if born under better auspices we might now be all fawning on, cringing to—after living to old age, no one knows how-dies, murdered at Aleppo, no one, you say, knows by whom."

was too notorious to admit the son into good He escaped to the Continent; hurried on to society. The Polite World, it is true, does some distant uncivilised lands; could not be not examine a scutcheon with the nice eye of traced; reappeared in England no more. a herald, nor look upon riches with the stately lawyer who conducted his defence pleaded skilcontempt of a stoic-still the Polite World has fully. He argued that the delay in firing was its family pride and its moral sentiment. It does not intentional, therefore not criminal-the not like to be cheated-I mean, in money effect of the stun which the wound in the temple matters-and when the son of the man who has had occasioned. The judge was a gentleman, emptied its purse and foreclosed on its acres, and summed up the evidence so as to direct rides by its club windows, hand on haunch, the jury to a verdict against the low wretch and head in the air, no lion has a scowl more who had murdered a gentleman. But the jurors awful, no hyæna a laugh more dread, than were not gentlemen, and Grayle's advocate that same easy, good-tempered, tolerant, polite, had of course excited their sympathy for a son well-bred world which is so pleasant an acquaint- of the people whom a gentleman had wantonly ance, so languid a friend, and-so remorseless insulted-the verdict was manslaughter. But an enemy. In short, Louis Grayle claimed the the sentence emphatically marked the aggravated right to be courted he was shunned; to be nature of the homicide-three years' imprisonadmired he was loathed. Even his old col- ment. Grayle eluded the prison, but he was lege acquaintances were shamed out of know- a man disgraced and an exile; his ambition ing him. Perhaps he could have lived through blasted, his career an outlaw's, and his age not all this, had he sought to glide quietly into yet twenty-three. My father said that he was position; but he wanted the tact of the well-supposed to have changed his name; none knew bred, and strove to storm his way, not to steal it. Reduced for companions to needy parasites, he braved and he shocked all decorous opinion by that ostentation of excess, which made Richelieus and Lauzuns the rage. But then Richelieus and Lauzuns were dukes! He now very naturally took the Polite World into hate-gave it scorn for scorn. He would ally himself with Democracy; his wealth_could not get him into a club, but it would buy him into parliament; he could not be a Lauzun, nor, perhaps, a Mirabeau; but he might be a Danton. He had plenty of knowledge and audacity, and with knowledge and audacity a good hater is sure to be eloquent. Possibly, then, this poor Louis Grayle might have made a great figure, left his mark on his age and his name in history; but in contesting the borough which he was sure to carry, he had to face an opponent in a real fine gentleman whom his father had ruined, cool and high bred, with a tongue like a rapier, a sneer like an adder. A quarrel of course; Louis Grayle sent a challenge. The fine gentleman, known to be no coward The sun of Homer shines upon us still." (fine gentlemen never are), was at first disposed to refuse with contempt. But Grayle had made "But it does not shine upon Homer; and himself the idol of the mob; and at a word learned folks tell me that we know no more from Grayle the fine gentleman might have been who and what Homer was; if there was ever a ducked at a pump, or tossed in a blanket-that single Homer at all, or rather a whole herd of would have made him ridiculous-to be shot at Homers, than we know about the man in the is a trifle, to be laughed at is serious. He there-moon-if there be one man there, or a million. fore condescended to accept the challenge, and my father was his second.

"It was settled, of course, according to English custom, that both combatants should fire at the same time, and by signal. The antagonist fired at the right moment; his ball grazed Louis Grayle's temple. Louis Grayle had not fired. He now seemed to the seconds to take slow and deliberate aim. They called out to him not to fire -they were rushing to prevent him-when the trigger was pulled and his opponent fell dead on the field. The fight was, therefore, considered unfair; Louis Grayle was tried for his life; he did not stand the trial in person.

"I saw some account of his death in the papers about three years ago," said one of the party, “but the name was misspelt, and I had no idea that it was the same man who had fought the duel which Mrs. Colonel Poyntz has so graphically described. I have a vague recollection of the trial; it took place when I was a boy, more than forty years since. The affair made a stir at the time, but was soon forgotten."

66

Soon forgotten," said Mrs. Poyntz; "ay, what is not? Leave your place in the world for ten minutes, and when you come back somebody else has taken it: but when you leave the world for good who remembers that you had ever a place even in the parish register!"

[ocr errors]

66

Nevertheless," said I, a great poet has said, finely and truly,

Now, my dear Miss Brabazon, it will be very kind in you to divert our thoughts into channels less gloomy. Some pretty French air-Dr. Fenwick, I have something to say to you." She drew me towards the window. So, Anne Ashleigh writes me word that I am not to mention your engagement. Do you think it quite prudent to keep it a secret ?"

66

"I do not see how prudence is concerned in keeping it secret one way or the other-it is a mere matter of feeling. Most people wish to abridge, as far as they can, the time in which their private arrangements are the topic of public gossip."

[ocr errors][ocr errors]
[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

will write to Lilian ?"

Certainly."

"Do so, and constantly. By the way, Mrs. Ashleigh, before she went, asked me to send her back Lady Haughton's letter of invitation. What for? to show to you?"

"Very likely. Have you the letter still? May I see it p

"Not just at present. When Lilian or Mrs. Ashleigh write to you, come and tell me how they like their visit, and what other guests form the party."

Therewith she turned away and conversed apart with the traveller.

Her words disquieted me, and I felt that they were meant to do so. Wherefore, I could not guess. But there is no language on earth which has more words with a double meaning than that spoken by the Clever Woman, who is never so guarded as when she appears to be frank.

As I walked home thoughtfully, I was accosted by a young man, the son of one of the wealthiest merchants in the town. I had attended him with success, some months before, in a rheumatic fever; he and his family were much attached to me.

"Ah, my dear Fenwick, I am so glad to see you; I owe you an obligation of which you are not aware-an exceedingly pleasant travelling companion. I came with him to-day from London, where I have been sight-seeing and holidaymaking for the last fortnight."

"I suppose you mean that you kindly bring me a patient ?"

"No, only an admirer. I was staying at Fenton's Hotel. It so happened one day that I had left in the coffee-room your last work on the Vital Principle, which, by-the-by, the bookseller assures me is selling immensely among readers as non-professional as myself. Coming into the coffee-room again I found a gentleman reading it. I claimed it politely; he as politely tendered his excuse for taking it. We made acquaintance on the spot. The next day we were intimate. He expressed great interest and curiosity about your theory and your experiments. I told him I knew you. You may guess if I described you as less clever in your practice than you are in your writings. And, in short, he came with me to L-, partly to see our flourishing town, principally on my promise to introduce him to you. My mother, you know, has what she calls a déjeuner tomorrow; déjeuner and dance. You will be

there?"

"Thank you for reminding me of her invitation. I will avail myself of it if I can. Your new friend will be present? Who and what is he? A medical student ?"

CHAPTER XXIII.

It was late in the afternoon of the following day before I was able to join the party assembled at the merchant's house; it was a villa about two miles out of the town, pleasantly situated, amidst flower-gardens celebrated in the neighbourhood for their beauty. The breakfast had been long over; the company was scattered over the lawn; some formed into a dance on the smooth lawn; some seated under shady awnings; others gliding amidst parterres, in which all the glow of colour took a glory yet more vivid under the flush of a brilliant sunshine, and the ripple of a soft western breeze. Music, loud and lively, mingled with the laughter of happy children, who formed much the larger number of the party.

Standing at the entrance of an arched trellis, that led from the hardier flowers of the lawn to

a rare collection of tropical plants under a lofty glass dome (connecting, as it were, the familiar vegetation of the North with that of the remotest East), was a form that instantaneously caught and fixed my gaze. The entrance of the arcade was covered with parasite creepers, in prodigal luxuriance, of variegated gorgeous tints-scarlet, golden, purple-and the form, an idealised picture of man's youth fresh from the hand of Nature, stood literally in a frame of blooms. Never have I seen human face so radiant as that young man's.

There was in the aspect an indescribable something that literally dazzled. As one continued to gaze, it was with surprise, one was forced to acknowledge that in the features themselves there was no faultless regularity; nor was the young man's stature imposing-about the middle height. But the effect of the whole was not less transcendent. Large eyes, unspeakably lustrous; a most harmonious colouring; an expression of contagious animation and joyousness; and the form itself so critically fine, that the welded strength of its sinews was best shown in the lightness and grace of its movements.

He was resting one hand carelessly on the golden locks of a child that had nestled itself against his knees, looking up in his face, in that silent loving wonder, with which children regard something too strangely beautiful for noisy admiration; he himself was conversing with the host, an old grey-haired gouty man, propped on his crutch-stick, and listening with a look of mournful envy. To the wealth of the old man all the flowers in that garden owed their renewed delight in the summer air and sun. Oh, that his wealth could renew to himself one hour of the youth that stood beside

[ocr errors]

Charles Dickens.]

chant's son:

[ocr errors]

SUTTEE IN CHINA.

him, lord, indeed, of Creation; its splendour month of January, eighteen hundred and sixty-
The Chinese Suttee, when it occurs, is the
woven into his crown of beauty, its enjoyments one, was a few days ago an eye-witness.
subject to his sceptre of hope and gladness!
I was startled by the hearty voice of the mer- self-sacrifice of widows, who are also orphans
Ah, my dear Fenwick, I was and childless; who consider themselves useless,
afraid you would not come-you are late. and, as it were, lost in the world; and who seek
There is the new friend of whom I spoke to you death, not only as a means to show their affection
last night; let me now make you acquainted for the deceased husband, but of escape from
with him." He drew my arm in his and led the evils of a very wretched and isolated posi-
me up to the young man, where he stood under tion. It is commonly a suicide of the desperate,
the arching flowers, and whom he then intro- put forth as a public and glorious act of devo-
tion. Highly praised by Chinese moralists, both
duced to me by the name of Margrave.
ancient and modern, many instances of this kind
of solemn self-destruction are recorded in his-
tory and romance, though of late years there has
been scant resort to it in practice.

Nothing could be more frankly cordial than In a few minutes I Mr. Margrave's manner. found myself conversing with him familiarly, as if we had been reared in the same home, and sported together in the same playground. His vein of talk was peculiar, off hand, careless, shifting from topic to topic, with a bright rapidity.

There is a small book-uncivilly small-purporting to be the history of all the celebrated divisions, each of which contains the lives of beauties of China. The work is arranged in those ladies notorious for some particular virtue or vice, whether for chastity or its opposite, for heroism physical or moral, for kindly gratitude or cruel hate. The woman whom the Chinese author thought entitled to the first place in Her husband was a private soldier in the imesteem, was one whose story is as follows:

He said that he liked the place; proposed to stay in it some weeks; asked my address, which I gave to him; promised to call soon at an early hour, while my time was yet free from professional visits. Iendeavoured, when I went away, to analyse to myself the fascination which this young stranger so notably exercised over all who approached him; and it seemed to me, ever seek-perial army. On his return from service, away ing to find material causes for all moral effects, that it arose from the contagious vitality of that rarest of all rare gifts in highly civilised circles -perfect health; that health which is in itself the most exquisite luxury; which, finding happiness in the mere sense of existence, diffuses round it, like an atmosphere, the harmless hilarity of its bright animal being. Health, to the utmost perfection, is seldom known after childhood; health to the utmost cannot be enjoyed by those who overwork the brain, or admit the sure wear and tear of the passions. The creature I had just seen gave me the notion of youth in the golden age of the poets-the youth of the careless Arcadian, before nymph or herdess had vexed his heart with a sigh.

SUTTEE IN CHINA.

from his comrades, in a distant province, he was told by his wife how, during his absence, she had been annoyed by the persecutions of the officer of his regiment. The poor soldier sought then He failed in the attempt, and military law to revenge himself on the libertine by taking his life. claimed his own life as penalty for the attack on a superior. In vain he pleaded provocation; justice was inexorable, and, despite the intercessions of his friends, he was condemned to die. His loving wife, on seeing how sad a calamity her beauty had brought upon her unoffending spouse, determined that since she could not save him she would not survive him. She provided, selling them into the families of wealthy neighshep-therefore, for the welfare of her two children by bours where she knew they would be well cared for. This done, she went to a rapid stream, and, casting herself in where the current was The current, though THE Indian Suttee, or voluntary sacrifice of strongest, perished beneath the waters. Now a living wife by burning on one pyre with the followed her reward. corpse of her husband, is abolished throughout so strong, refused to convey her body from the British dominions, and is supposed to be the spot at which her act of piety had been rare in the outlying provinces. The act of self-performed, and there it was soon discovered by This officer, at once immolation was often most determined. Of one the passers-by, who reported to the district widow it is said that she not only set at nought magistrate the miracle of a dead body lying unall admonitions to relent from her purpose, but moved on a running river. A statement was then laid before the that she put a finger into the fire and held it hastening to the river-side, took charge of the there for some time as a proof of fortitude; also, corpse. that she took up some of the fire with one hand, higher authorities, and a further investigation to place it in the other, where she held it while made. The end of it was that the condemned she sprinkled incense on it to fumigate the at- soldier was pardoned, a public funeral was tendant Brahmins. We have all heard of the granted to the wife, and an arch, inscribed with custom of Suttee, while the existence of a simi- the words "Ardently chaste," was erected to lar practice in China is almost unknown in Eng- her honourable memory. Moreover, the chillaud, unknown even to many Englishmen in dren were returned to the arms of their father, China who have resided there for years. Of such and he, feeling the deep debt of gratitude which a scene of public self-immolation by a Chinese he owed to his virtuous partner, refrained for widow, I, writing now at Foo-Chow-Foo in the his whole life from contracting any other mar

riage, lest he should weaken the tender remembrance of one who had proved herself so faithful to his interests.

This is one among many stories of the kind in Chinese literature. But, without any more reference to books, I will proceed to show how a sacrifice is managed in our own times, by relating the facts of the tragedy enacted before my own eyes in the neighbourhood of Foo-ChowFoo.

From this bamboo, under the canopy, and exactly in the middle of the scaffold, hung the fatal rope, covered with a red silk napkin; beneath it was set a chair, to enable the devotee to reach the noose. On the lower platform, was a table of choice meats and vegetables, at which she was to take her last meal in the land of the living. The table was surrounded by the woman's friends, dressed in holiday costumes, and wearing the red cap of Chinese officials. In former times it was the custom for two district magistrates to be in attendance on all these occasions; but since the higher authorities were hoaxed, some years ago, by a lady whose courage failed her at the last moment, they have refused to be present at such exhibitions, and now despatch an inferior officer to superintend the arrangements.

The scaffold was raised in the midst of a large expanse of fields, at the time lying fallow, and was surrounded by a crowd numbering some thousands. Benches from which a better view could be had, were so much in demand, that we were obliged to pay a dollar (four and ninepence) before we could obtain one for myself and another for my companion; I use the singu lar number, because we had lost the third member of our party in the crowd.

The first notification I had of what was about to take place was the parading of a handsome wedding chair about that suburb of the provincial capital in which our foreign settlement is situated. The chair was accompanied by all the pomps and gaieties of a wedding-music, gay streamers, and so forth. There was, however, one thing most unusual in this procession. The occupant of the chair was exposed to public gaze, instead of being, as in weddings is invariably the case, closely screened. On making inquiry among our Chinese servants as to what this extraordinary departure from established customs might portend, I was informed that the lady was no bride, but a disconsolate widow, recently bereaved, who, finding herself unprovided for and unprotected, and having, moreover, neither father nor mother, son nor daughter, father-in- The chief actress in this extraordinary scene law nor mother-in-law, was determined upon appeared at first to be far less excited than any following her husband to the unknown world, one in the vast concourse assembled. She where she might serve and wait upon him as was dressed in red bridal robes, richly embecame his dutiful and loving wife. Having broidered with coloured silk, and her head was accordingly made known her intention to her adorned with a handsome gilt coronet. Her friends, and having fixed the day for her de- decidedly plain face betrayed not the slightest parture, she was now taking leave of all she emotion, and she sat down at the table with as knew, and parading the streets as a pattern to much apparent good will as if it had been her her sex. The object of her death being to re-bridal, rather than her funeral, feast. While she join her husband, the ceremony was a sort of wedding; she was arrayed and adorned as a bride, and seated in a wedding chair.

was eating, we made some inquiries among the crowd, and ascertained, in addition to the fact of her being childless, that she was twenty-five years of age, and that her only surviving relations were a brother in poor circumstances, and his infant child, her nephew. We were further informed that she had resided in a village which was pointed out to us at a little distance from the spot.

I ascertained the time and place appointed for the closing ceremony, and on the morning of Wednesday, the 16th of January, proceeded, accompanied by two friends, to a spot some four miles distant from Nantae, the seat of the foreign settlement and southern suburb of Foo-Chow-Foo. Everybody we passed appeared as well ac- After the lapse of about half an hour, the poor quainted with the object of our journey as we woman having apparently satisfied her appetite, ourselves were. As we approached the scene of rose from her seat, and, still standing on the lower action we found ourselves in a stream of people, platform, addressed the surrounding crowd in chiefly women and girls, the greater part of whom a set speech, thanking them for their attendwere small footed, and were hobbling along lean-ance, and explaining why she acted as she did. ing one against another for support, or assisting their tottering footsteps, by means of the shoulders of dutiful sons or brothers.

When she had finished speaking, she took from a bowl on the table, several handfuls of uncooked rice, which she scattered among the crowd, and We arrived only just in time to see the chair eager was the scramble to get a few grains as of the victim carried on the ground, and her- her virtuous blessing. This done, she fondled self ascend the scaffold which had been pre- her baby nephew, and bade an affectionate pared for her. The chair was the bridal chair farewell to her brother, who stood by her on the in which she had been carried about the streets; scaffold; then, stepping upon the upper stage of and the scaffold consisted of two stages, one the platform, she bowed gracefully to the surraised a few feet from the ground, and the rounding multitude, and addressed to them a other about a foot higher. The whole was few last words. It struck me at this moment covered with a dark cloth canopy, supported by that she might be under the influence of opium, a framework of bamboos, within which was set for her laughing countenance and rapid gestures a gallows of one very thick cross piece of bamboo, were too highly excited, to be natural, except fastened at either end to a stong upright pole. | under the influence of some such stimulants. It

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »