From this the talk branched into other subjects, and I told her
much about my lonely and wandering existence; she, for her part,
giving ear, and saying little.  Although we spoke very naturally,
and latterly on topics that might seem indifferent, we were both
sweetly agitated.  Too soon it was time for her to go; and we
separated, as if by mutual consent, without shaking hands, for both
knew that, between us, it was no idle ceremony.

The next, and that was the fourth day of our acquaintance, we met
in the same spot, but early in the morning, with much familiarity
and yet much timidity on either side.  When she had once more
spoken about my danger - and that, I understood, was her excuse for
coming - I, who had prepared a great deal of talk during the night,
began to tell her how highly I valued her kind interest, and how no
one had ever cared to hear about my life, nor had I ever cared to
relate it, before yesterday.  Suddenly she interrupted me, saying
with vehemence -

"And yet, if you knew who I was, you would not so much as speak to
me!"

I told her such a thought was madness, and, little as we had met, I
counted her already a dear friend; but my protestations seemed only
to make her more desperate.

"My father is in hiding!" she cried.

"My dear," I said, forgetting for the first time to add "young
lady," "what do I care?  If he were in hiding twenty times over,
would it make one thought of change in you?"

"Ah, but the cause!" she cried, "the cause!  It is - " she faltered
for a second - "it is disgraceful to us!"



CHAPTER IV - TELLS IN WHAT A STARTLING MANNER I LEARNED THAT I WAS
NOT ALONE IN GRADEN SEA-WOOD



This was my wife's story, as I drew it from her among tears and
sobs.  Her name was Clara Huddlestone:  it sounded very beautiful
in my ears; but not so beautiful as that other name of Clara
Cassilis, which she wore during the longer and, I thank God, the
happier portion of her life.  Her father, Bernard Huddlestone, had
been a private banker in a very large way of business.  Many years
before, his affairs becoming disordered, he had been led to try
dangerous, and at last criminal, expedients to retrieve himself
from ruin.  All was in vain; he became more and more cruelly
involved, and found his honour lost at the same moment with his
fortune.  About this period, Northmour had been courting his
daughter with great assiduity, though with small encouragement; and
to him, knowing him thus disposed in his favour, Bernard
Huddlestone turned for help in his extremity.  It was not merely
ruin and dishonour, nor merely a legal condemnation, that the
unhappy man had brought upon his head.  It seems he could have gone
to prison with a light heart.  What he feared, what kept him awake
at night or recalled him from slumber into frenzy, was some secret,
sudden, and unlawful attempt upon his life.  Hence, he desired to
bury his existence and escape to one of the islands in the South
Pacific, and it was in Northmour's yacht, the RED EARL, that he
designed to go.  The yacht picked them up clandestinely upon the
coast of Wales, and had once more deposited them at Graden, till
she could be refitted and provisioned for the longer voyage.  Nor
could Clara doubt that her hand had been stipulated as the price of
passage.  For, although Northmour was neither unkind nor even
discourteous, he had shown himself in several instances somewhat
overbold in speech and manner.

I listened, I need not say, with fixed attention, and put many
questions as to the more mysterious part.  It was in vain.  She had
no clear idea of what the blow was, nor of how it was expected to
fall.  Her father's alarm was unfeigned and physically prostrating,
and he had thought more than once of making an unconditional
surrender to the police.  But the scheme was finally abandoned, for
he was convinced that not even the strength of our English prisons
could shelter him from his pursuers.  He had had many affairs with
Italy, and with Italians resident in London, in the later years of
his business; and these last, as Clara fancied, were somehow
connected with the doom that threatened him.  He had shown great
terror at the presence of an Italian seaman on board the RED EARL,
and had bitterly and repeatedly accused Northmour in consequence.
The latter had protested that Beppo (that was the seaman's name)
was a capital fellow, and could be trusted to the death; but Mr.
Huddlestone had continued ever since to declare that all was lost,
that it was only a question of days, and that Beppo would be the
ruin of him yet.

I regarded the whole story as the hallucination of a mind shaken by
calamity.  He had suffered heavy loss by his Italian transactions;
and hence the sight of an Italian was hateful to him, and the
principal part in his nightmare would naturally enough be played by
one of that nation.

"What your father wants," I said, "is a good doctor and some
calming medicine."

"But Mr. Northmour?" objected your mother.  "He is untroubled by
losses, and yet he shares in this terror."

I could not help laughing at what I considered her simplicity.

"My dear," said I, "you have told me yourself what reward he has to
look for.  All is fair in love, you must remember; and if Northmour
foments your father's terrors, it is not at all because he is
afraid of any Italian man, but simply because he is infatuated with
a charming English woman."

She reminded me of his attack upon myself on the night of the
disembarkation, and this I was unable to explain.  In short, and
from one thing to another, it was agreed between us, that I should
set out at once for the fisher village, Graden Wester, as it was
called, look up all the newspapers I could find, and see for myself
if there seemed any basis of fact for these continued alarms.  The
next morning, at the same hour and place, I was to make my report
to Clara.  She said no more on that occasion about my departure;
nor, indeed, did she make it a secret that she clung to the thought
of my proximity as something helpful and pleasant; and, for my
part, I could not have left her, if she had gone upon her knees to
ask it.

I reached Graden Wester before ten in the forenoon; for in those
days I was an excellent pedestrian, and the distance, as I think I
have said, was little over seven miles; fine walking all the way
upon the springy turf.  The village is one of the bleakest on that
coast, which is saying much:  there is a church in a hollow; a
miserable haven in the rocks, where many boats have been lost as
they returned from fishing; two or three score of stone houses
arranged along the beach and in two streets, one leading from the
harbour, and another striking out from it at right angles; and, at
the corner of these two, a very dark and cheerless tavern, by way
of principal hotel.

I had dressed myself somewhat more suitably to my station in life,
and at once called upon the minister in his little manse beside the
graveyard.  He knew me, although it was more than nine years since
we had met; and when I told him that I had been long upon a walking
tour, and was behind with the news, readily lent me an armful of
newspapers, dating from a month back to the day before.  With these
I sought the tavern, and, ordering some breakfast, sat down to
study the "Huddlestone Failure."

It had been, it appeared, a very flagrant case.  Thousands of
persons were reduced to poverty; and one in particular had blown
out his brains as soon as payment was suspended.  It was strange to
myself that, while I read these details, I continued rather to
sympathise with Mr. Huddlestone than with his victims; so complete
already was the empire of my love for my wife.  A price was
naturally set upon the banker's head; and, as the case was
inexcusable and the public indignation thoroughly aroused, the
unusual figure of 750 pounds was offered for his capture.  He was
reported to have large sums of money in his possession.  One day,
he had been heard of in Spain; the next, there was sure
intelligence that he was still lurking between Manchester and
Liverpool, or along the border of Wales; and the day after, a
telegram would announce his arrival in Cuba or Yucatan.  But in all
this there was no word of an Italian, nor any sign of mystery.

In the very last paper, however, there was one item not so clear.
The accountants who were charged to verify the failure had, it
seemed, come upon the traces of a very large number of thousands,
which figured for some time in the transactions of the house of
Huddlestone; but which came from nowhere, and disappeared in the
same mysterious fashion.  It was only once referred to by name, and
then under the initials "X. X."; but it had plainly been floated
for the first time into the business at a period of great
depression some six years ago.  The name of a distinguished Royal
personage had been mentioned by rumour in connection with this sum.
"The cowardly desperado" - such, I remember, was the editorial
expression - was supposed to have escaped with a large part of this
mysterious fund still in his possession.

I was still brooding over the fact, and trying to torture it into
some connection with Mr. Huddlestone's danger, when a man entered
the tavern and asked for some bread and cheese with a decided
foreign accent.

"SIETE ITALIANO?" said I.

"SI, SIGNOR," was his reply.

I said it was unusually far north to find one of his compatriots;
at which he shrugged his shoulders, and replied that a man would go
anywhere to find work.  What work he could hope to find at Graden
Wester, I was totally unable to conceive; and the incident struck
so unpleasantly upon my mind, that I asked the landlord, while he
was counting me some change, whether he had ever before seen an
Italian in the village.  He said he had once seen some Norwegians,
who had been shipwrecked on the other side of Graden Ness and
rescued by the lifeboat from Cauldhaven.

"No!" said I; "but an Italian, like the man who has just had bread
and cheese."

"What?" cried he, "yon black-avised fellow wi' the teeth?  Was he
an I-talian?  Weel, yon's the first that ever I saw, an' I dare say
he's like to be the last."

Even as he was speaking, I raised my eyes, and, casting a glance
into the street, beheld three men in earnest conversation together,
and not thirty yards away.  One of them was my recent companion in
the tavern parlour; the other two, by their handsome, sallow
features and soft hats, should evidently belong to the same race.
A crowd of village children stood around them, gesticulating and
talking gibberish in imitation.  The trio looked singularly foreign
to the bleak dirty street in which they were standing, and the dark
grey heaven that overspread them; and I confess my incredulity
received at that moment a shock from which it never recovered.  I
might reason with myself as I pleased, but I could not argue down
the effect of what I had seen, and I began to share in the Italian
terror.

It was already drawing towards the close of the day before I had
returned the newspapers at the manse, and got well forward on to
the links on my way home.  I shall never forget that walk.  It grew
very cold and boisterous; the wind sang in the short grass about my
feet; thin rain showers came running on the gusts; and an immense
mountain range of clouds began to arise out of the bosom of the
sea.  It would be hard to imagine a more dismal evening; and
whether it was from these external influences, or because my nerves
were already affected by what I had heard and seen, my thoughts
were as gloomy as the weather.

The upper windows of the pavilion commanded a considerable spread
of links in the direction of Graden Wester.  To avoid observation,
it was necessary to hug the beach until I had gained cover from the
higher sand-hills on the little headland, when I might strike
across, through the hollows, for the margin of the wood.  The sun
was about setting; the tide was low, and all the quicksands
uncovered; and I was moving along, lost in unpleasant thought, when
I was suddenly thunderstruck to perceive the prints of human feet.
They ran parallel to my own course, but low down upon the beach
instead of along the border of the turf; and, when I examined them,
I saw at once, by the size and coarseness of the impression, that
it was a stranger to me and to those in the pavilion who had
recently passed that way.  Not only so; but from the recklessness
of the course which he had followed, steering near to the most
formidable portions of the sand, he was as evidently a stranger to
the country and to the ill-repute of Graden beach.

Step by step I followed the prints; until, a quarter of a mile
farther, I beheld them die away into the south-eastern boundary of
Graden Floe.  There, whoever he was, the miserable man had
perished.  One or two gulls, who had, perhaps, seen him disappear,
wheeled over his sepulchre with their usual melancholy piping.  The
sun had broken through the clouds by a last effort, and coloured
the wide level of quicksands with a dusky purple.  I stood for some
time gazing at the spot, chilled and disheartened by my own
reflections, and with a strong and commanding consciousness of
death.  I remember wondering how long the tragedy had taken, and
whether his screams had been audible at the pavilion.  And then,
making a strong resolution, I was about to tear myself away, when a
gust fiercer than usual fell upon this quarter of the beach, and I
saw now, whirling high in air, now skimming lightly across the
surface of the sands, a soft, black, felt hat, somewhat conical in
shape, such as I had remarked already on the heads of the Italians.

I believe, but I am not sure, that I uttered a cry.  The wind was
driving the hat shoreward, and I ran round the border of the floe
to be ready against its arrival.  The gust fell, dropping the hat
for a while upon the quicksand, and then, once more freshening,
landed it a few yards from where I stood.  I seized it with the
interest you may imagine.  It had seen some service; indeed, it was
rustier than either of those I had seen that day upon the street.
The lining was red, stamped with the name of the maker, which I
have forgotten, and that of the place of manufacture, VENEDIG.
This (it is not yet forgotten) was the name given by the Austrians
to the beautiful city of Venice, then, and for long after, a part
of their dominions.

The shock was complete.  I saw imaginary Italians upon every side;
and for the first, and, I may say, for the last time in my
experience, became overpowered by what is called a panic terror.  I
knew nothing, that is, to be afraid of, and yet I admit that I was
heartily afraid; and it was with a sensible reluctance that I
returned to my exposed and solitary camp in the Sea-Wood.

There I ate some cold porridge which had been left over from the
night before, for I was disinclined to make a fire; and, feeling
strengthened and reassured, dismissed all these fanciful terrors
from my mind, and lay down to sleep with composure.

How long I may have slept it is impossible for me to guess; but I
was awakened at last by a sudden, blinding flash of light into my
face.  It woke me like a blow.  In an instant I was upon my knees.
But the light had gone as suddenly as it came.  The darkness was
intense.  And, as it was blowing great guns from the sea and
pouring with rain, the noises of the storm effectually concealed
all others.

It was, I dare say, half a minute before I regained my self-
possession.  But for two circumstances, I should have thought I had
been awakened by some new and vivid form of nightmare.  First, the
flap of my tent, which I had shut carefully when I retired, was now
unfastened; and, second, I could still perceive, with a sharpness
that excluded any theory of hallucination, the smell of hot metal
and of burning oil.  The conclusion was obvious.  I had been
wakened by some one flashing a bull's-eye lantern in my face.  It
had been but a flash, and away.  He had seen my face, and then
gone.  I asked myself the object of so strange a proceeding, and
the answer came pat.  The man, whoever he was, had thought to
recognise me, and he had not.  There was yet another question
unresolved; and to this, I may say, I feared to give an answer; if
he had recognised me, what would he have done?

My fears were immediately diverted from myself, for I saw that I
had been visited in a mistake; and I became persuaded that some
dreadful danger threatened the pavilion.  It required some nerve to
issue forth into the black and intricate thicket which surrounded
and overhung the den; but I groped my way to the links, drenched
with rain, beaten upon and deafened by the gusts, and fearing at
every step to lay my hand upon some lurking adversary.  The
darkness was so complete that I might have been surrounded by an
army and yet none the wiser, and the uproar of the gale so loud
that my hearing was as useless as my sight.

For the rest of that night, which seemed interminably long, I
patrolled the vicinity of the pavilion, without seeing a living
creature or hearing any noise but the concert of the wind, the sea,
and the rain.  A light in the upper story filtered through a cranny
of the shutter, and kept me company till the approach of dawn.



CHAPTER V - TELLS OF AN INTERVIEW BETWEEN NORTHMOUR, CLARA, AND
MYSELF



With the first peep of day, I retired from the open to my old lair
among the sand-hills, there to await the coming of my wife.  The
morning was grey, wild, and melancholy; the wind moderated before
sunrise, and then went about, and blew in puffs from the shore; the
sea began to go down, but the rain still fell without mercy.  Over
all the wilderness of links there was not a creature to be seen.
Yet I felt sure the neighbourhood was alive with skulking foes.
The light that had been so suddenly and surprisingly flashed upon
my face as I lay sleeping, and the hat that had been blown ashore
by the wind from over Graden Floe, were two speaking signals of the
peril that environed Clara and the party in the pavilion.

It was, perhaps, half-past seven, or nearer eight, before I saw the
door open, and that dear figure come towards me in the rain.  I was
waiting for her on the beach before she had crossed the sand-hills.

"I have had such trouble to come!" she cried.  "They did not wish
me to go walking in the rain."

"Clara," I said, "you are not frightened!"

"No," said she, with a simplicity that filled my heart with
confidence.  For my wife was the bravest as well as the best of
women; in my experience, I have not found the two go always
together, but with her they did; and she combined the extreme of
fortitude with the most endearing and beautiful virtues.

I told her what had happened; and, though her cheek grew visibly
paler, she retained perfect control over her senses.

"You see now that I am safe," said I, in conclusion.  "They do not
mean to harm me; for, had they chosen, I was a dead man last
night."

She laid her hand upon my arm.

"And I had no presentiment!" she cried.

Her accent thrilled me with delight.  I put my arm about her, and
strained her to my side; and, before either of us was aware, her
hands were on my shoulders and my lips upon her mouth.  Yet up to
that moment no word of love had passed between us.  To this day I
remember the touch of her cheek, which was wet and cold with the
rain; and many a time since, when she has been washing her face, I
have kissed it again for the sake of that morning on the beach.
Now that she is taken from me, and I finish my pilgrimage alone, I
recall our old lovingkindnesses and the deep honesty and affection
which united us, and my present loss seems but a trifle in
comparison.

We may have thus stood for some seconds - for time passes quickly
with lovers - before we were startled by a peal of laughter close
at hand.  It was not natural mirth, but seemed to be affected in
order to conceal an angrier feeling.  We both turned, though I
still kept my left arm about Clara's waist; nor did she seek to
withdraw herself; and there, a few paces off upon the beach, stood
Northmour, his head lowered, his hands behind his back, his
nostrils white with passion.

"Ah! Cassilis!" he said, as I disclosed my face.

"That same," said I; for I was not at all put about.

"And so, Miss Huddlestone," he continued slowly but savagely, "this
is how you keep your faith to your father and to me?  This is the
value you set upon your father's life?  And you are so infatuated
with this young gentleman that you must brave ruin, and decency,
and common human caution - "

"Miss Huddlestone - " I was beginning to interrupt him, when he, in
his turn, cut in brutally -

"You hold your tongue," said he; "I am speaking to that girl."

"That girl, as you call her, is my wife," said I; and my wife only
leaned a little nearer, so that I knew she had affirmed my words.

"Your what?" he cried.  "You lie!"

"Northmour," I said, "we all know you have a bad temper, and I am
the last man to be irritated by words.  For all that, I propose
that you speak lower, for I am convinced that we are not alone."

He looked round him, and it was plain my remark had in some degree
sobered his passion.  "What do you mean?" he asked.

I only said one word:  "Italians."

He swore a round oath, and looked at us, from one to the other.

"Mr. Cassilis knows all that I know," said my wife.

"What I want to know," he broke out, "is where the devil Mr.
Cassilis comes from, and what the devil Mr. Cassilis is doing here.
You say you are married; that I do not believe.  If you were,
Graden Floe would soon divorce you; four minutes and a half,
Cassilis.  I keep my private cemetery for my friends."

"It took somewhat longer," said I, "for that Italian."

He looked at me for a moment half daunted, and then, almost
civilly, asked me to tell my story.  "You have too much the
advantage of me, Cassilis," he added.  I complied of course; and he
listened, with several ejaculations, while I told him how I had
come to Graden:  that it was I whom he had tried to murder on the
night of landing; and what I had subsequently seen and heard of the
Italians.

"Well," said he, when I had done, "it is here at last; there is no
mistake about that.  And what, may I ask, do you propose to do?"

"I propose to stay with you and lend a hand," said I.

"You are a brave man," he returned, with a peculiar intonation.

"I am not afraid," said I.

"And so," he continued, "I am to understand that you two are
married?  And you stand up to it before my face, Miss Huddlestone?"

"We are not yet married," said Clara; "but we shall be as soon as
we can."

"Bravo!" cried Northmour.  "And the bargain?  D-n it, you're not a
fool, young woman; I may call a spade a spade with you.  How about
the bargain?  You know as well as I do what your father's life
depends upon.  I have only to put my hands under my coat-tails and
walk away, and his throat would he cut before the evening."

"Yes, Mr. Northmour," returned Clara, with great spirit; "but that
is what you will never do.  You made a bargain that was unworthy of
a gentleman; but you are a gentleman for all that, and you will
never desert a man whom you have begun to help."

"Aha!" said he.  "You think I will give my yacht for nothing?  You
think I will risk my life and liberty for love of the old
gentleman; and then, I suppose, be best man at the wedding, to wind
up?  Well," he added, with an odd smile, "perhaps you are not
altogether wrong.  But ask Cassilis here.  HE knows me.  Am I a man
to trust?  Am I safe and scrupulous?  Am I kind?"

"I know you talk a great deal, and sometimes, I think, very
foolishly," replied Clara, "but I know you are a gentleman, and I
am not the least afraid."

He looked at her with a peculiar approval and admiration; then,
turning to me, "Do you think I would give her up without a
struggle, Frank?" said he.  "I tell you plainly, you look out.  The
next time we come to blows - "

"Will make the third," I interrupted, smiling.

"Aye, true; so it will," he said.  "I had forgotten.  Well, the
third time's lucky."

"The third time, you mean, you will have the crew of the RED EARL
to help," I said.

"Do you hear him?" he asked, turning to my wife.

"I hear two men speaking like cowards," said she.  "I should
despise myself either to think or speak like that.  And neither of
you believe one word that you are saying, which makes it the more
wicked and silly."

"She's a trump!" cried Northmour.  "But she's not yet Mrs.
Cassilis.  I say no more.  The present is not for me."  Then my
wife surprised me.

"I leave you here," she said suddenly.  "My father has been too
long alone.  But remember this:  you are to be friends, for you are
both good friends to me."

She has since told me her reason for this step.  As long as she
remained, she declares that we two would have continued to quarrel;
and I suppose that she was right, for when she was gone we fell at
once into a sort of confidentiality.

Northmour stared after her as she went away over the sand-hill

"She is the only woman in the world!" he exclaimed with an oath.
"Look at her action."

I, for my part, leaped at this opportunity for a little further
light.

"See here, Northmour," said I; "we are all in a tight place, are we
not?"

"I believe you, my boy," he answered, looking me in the eyes, and
with great emphasis.  "We have all hell upon us, that's the truth.
You may believe me or not, but I'm afraid of my life."

"Tell me one thing," said I.  "What are they after, these Italians?
What do they want with Mr. Huddlestone?"

"Don't you know?" he cried.  "The black old scamp had CARBONARO
funds on a deposit - two hundred and eighty thousand; and of course
he gambled it away on stocks.  There was to have been a revolution
in the Tridentino, or Parma; but the revolution is off, and the
whole wasp's nest is after Huddlestone.  We shall all be lucky if
we can save our skins."

"The CARBONARI!" I exclaimed; "God help him indeed!"

"Amen!" said Northmour.  "And now, look here:  I have said that we
are in a fix; and, frankly, I shall be glad of your help.  If I
can't save Huddlestone, I want at least to save the girl.  Come and
stay in the pavilion; and, there's my hand on it, I shall act as
your friend until the old man is either clear or dead.  But," he
added, "once that is settled, you become my rival once again, and I
warn you - mind yourself."

"Done!" said I; and we shook hands.

"And now let us go directly to the fort," said Northmour; and he
began to lead the way through the rain.



CHAPTER VI - TELLS OF MY INTRODUCTION TO THE TALL MAN



We were admitted to the pavilion by Clara, and I was surprised by
the completeness and security of the defences.  A barricade of
great strength, and yet easy to displace, supported the door
against Any violence from without; and the shutters of the dining-
room, into which I was led directly, and which was feebly
illuminated by a lamp, were even more elaborately fortified.  The
panels were strengthened by bars and cross-bars; and these, in
their turn, were kept in position by a system of braces and struts,
some abutting on the floor, some on the roof, and others, in fine,
against the opposite wall of the apartment.  It was at once a solid
and well-designed piece of carpentry; and I did not seek to conceal
my admiration.

"I am the engineer," said Northmour.  "You remember the planks in
the garden?  Behold them?"

"I did not know you had so many talents," said I.

"Are you armed?" he continued, pointing to an array of guns and
pistols, all in admirable order, which stood in line against the
wall or were displayed upon the sideboard.

"Thank you," I returned; "I have gone armed since our last
encounter.  But, to tell you the truth, I have had nothing to eat
since early yesterday evening."

Northmour produced some cold meat, to which I eagerly set myself,
and a bottle of good Burgundy, by which, wet as I was, I did not
scruple to profit.  I have always been an extreme temperance man on
principle; but it is useless to push principle to excess, and on
this occasion I believe that I finished three-quarters of the
bottle.  As I ate, I still continued to admire the preparations for
defence.

"We could stand a siege," I said at length.

"Ye-es," drawled Northmour; "a very little one, per-haps.  It is
not so much the strength of the pavilion I misdoubt; it is the
doubled anger that kills me.  If we get to shooting, wild as the
country is some one is sure to hear it, and then - why then it's
the same thing, only different, as they say:  caged by law, or
killed by CARBONARI.  There's the choice.  It is a devilish bad
thing to have the law against you in this world, and so I tell the
old gentleman upstairs.  He is quite of my way of thinking."

"Speaking of that," said I, "what kind of person is he?"

"Oh, he!" cried the other; "he's a rancid fellow, as far as he
goes.  I should like to have his neck wrung to-morrow by all the
devils in Italy.  I am not in this affair for him.  You take me?  I
made a bargain for Missy's hand, and I mean to have it too."

"That by the way," said I.  "I understand.  But how will Mr.
Huddlestone take my intrusion?"

"Leave that to Clara," returned Northmour.

I could have struck him in the face for this coarse familiarity;
but I respected the truce, as, I am bound to say, did Northmour,
and so long as the danger continued not a cloud arose in our
relation.  I bear him this testimony with the most unfeigned
satisfaction; nor am I without pride when I look back upon my own
behaviour.  For surely no two men were ever left in a position so
invidious and irritating.

As soon as I had done eating, we proceeded to inspect the lower
floor.  Window by window we tried the different supports, now and
then making an inconsiderable change; and the strokes of the hammer
sounded with startling loudness through the house.  I proposed, I
remember, to make loop-holes; but he told me they were already made
in the windows of the upper story.  It was an anxious business this
inspection, and left me down-hearted.  There were two doors and
five windows to protect, and, counting Clara, only four of us to
defend them against an unknown number of foes.  I communicated my
doubts to Northmour, who assured me, with unmoved composure, that
he entirely shared them.

"Before morning," said he, "we shall all be butchered and buried in
Graden Floe.  For me, that is written."

I could not help shuddering at the mention of the quicksand, but
reminded Northmour that our enemies had spared me in the wood.

"Do not flatter yourself," said he.  "Then you were not in the same
boat with the old gentleman; now you are.  It's the floe for all of
us, mark my words."

I trembled for Clara; and just then her dear voice was heard
calling us to come upstairs.  Northmour showed me the way, and,
when he had reached the landing, knocked at the door of what used
to be called MY UNCLE'S BEDROOM, as the founder of the pavilion had
designed it especially for himself.

"Come in, Northmour; come in, dear Mr. Cassilis," said a voice from
within.

Pushing open the door, Northmour admitted me before him into the
apartment.  As I came in I could see the daughter slipping out by
the side door into the study, which had been prepared as her
bedroom.  In the bed, which was drawn back against the wall,
instead of standing, as I had last seen it, boldly across the
window, sat Bernard Huddlestone, the defaulting banker.  Little as
I had seen of him by the shifting light of the lantern on the
links, I had no difficulty in recognising him for the same.  He had
a long and sallow countenance, surrounded by a long red beard and
side whiskers.  His broken nose and high cheekbones gave him
somewhat the air of a Kalmuck, and his light eyes shone with the
excitement of a high fever.  He wore a skull-cap of black silk; a
huge Bible lay open before him on the bed, with a pair of gold
spectacles in the place, and a pile of other books lay on the stand
by his side.  The green curtains lent a cadaverous shade to his
cheek; and, as he sat propped on pillows, his great stature was
painfully hunched, and his head protruded till it overhung his
knees.  I believe if he had not died otherwise, he must have fallen
a victim to consumption in the course of but a very few weeks.

He held out to me a hand, long, thin, and disagreeably hairy.

"Come in, come in, Mr. Cassilis," said he.  "Another protector -
ahem! - another protector.  Always welcome as a friend of my
daughter's, Mr. Cassilis.  How they have rallied about me, my
daughter's friends!  May God in heaven bless and reward them for
it!"

I gave him my hand, of course, because I could not help it; but the
sympathy I had been prepared to feel for Clara's father was
immediately soured by his appearance, and the wheedling, unreal
tones in which he spoke.

"Cassilis is a good man," said Northmour; "worth ten."

"So I hear," cried Mr. Huddlestone eagerly "so my girl tells me.
Ah, Mr. Cassilis, my sin has found me out, you see!  I am very low,
very low; but I hope equally penitent.  We must all come to the
throne of grace at last, Mr. Cassilis.  For my part, I come late
indeed; but with unfeigned humility, I trust."

"Fiddle-de-dee!" said Northmour roughly.

"No, no, dear Northmour!" cried the banker.  "You must not say
that; you must not try to shake me.  You forget, my dear, good boy,
you forget I may be called this very night before my Maker."

His excitement was pitiful to behold; and I felt myself grow
indignant with Northmour, whose infidel opinions I well knew, and
heartily derided, as he continued to taunt the poor sinner out of
his humour of repentance.

"Pooh, my dear Huddlestone!" said he.  "You do yourself injustice.
You are a man of the world inside and out, and were up to all kinds
of mischief before I was born.  Your conscience is tanned like
South American leather - only you forgot to tan your liver, and
that, if you will believe me, is the seat of the annoyance."

"Rogue, rogue! bad boy!" said Mr. Huddlestone, shaking his finger.
"I am no precisian, if you come to that; I always hated a
precisian; but I never lost hold of something better through it
all.  I have been a bad boy, Mr. Cassilis; I do not seek to deny
that; but it was after my wife's death, and you know, with a
widower, it's a different thing:  sinful - I won't say no; but
there is a gradation, we shall hope.  And talking of that - Hark!"
he broke out suddenly, his hand raised, his fingers spread, his
face racked with interest and terror.  "Only the rain, bless God!"
he added, after a pause, and with indescribable relief.

For some seconds he lay back among the pillows like a man near to
fainting; then he gathered himself together, and, in somewhat
tremulous tones, began once more to thank me for the share I was
prepared to take in his defence.

"One question, sir," said I, when he had paused.  "Is it true that
you have money with you?"

He seemed annoyed by the question, but admitted with reluctance
that he had a little.

"Well," I continued, "it is their money they are after, is it not?
Why not give it up to them?"

"Ah!" replied he, shaking his head, "I have tried that already, Mr.
Cassilis; and alas that it should be so! but it is blood they
want."

"Huddlestone, that's a little less than fair," said Northmour.
"You should mention that what you offered them was upwards of two
hundred thousand short.  The deficit is worth a reference; it is
for what they call a cool sum, Frank.  Then, you see, the fellows
reason in their clear Italian way; and it seems to them, as indeed
it seems to me, that they may just as well have both while they're
about it - money and blood together, by George, and no more trouble
for the extra pleasure."

"Is it in the pavilion?" I asked.

"It is; and I wish it were in the bottom of the sea instead," said
Northmour; and then suddenly - "What are you making faces at me
for?" he cried to Mr. Huddlestone, on whom I had unconsciously
turned my back.  "Do you think Cassilis would sell you?"

Mr. Huddlestone protested that nothing had been further from his
mind.

"It is a good thing," retorted Northmour in his ugliest manner.
"You might end by wearying us.  What were you going to say?" he
added, turning to me.

"I was going to propose an occupation for the afternoon,'' said I.
"Let us carry that money out, piece by piece, and lay it down
before the pavilion door.  If the CARBONARI come, why, it's theirs
at any rate."

"No, no," cried Mr. Huddlestone; "it does not, it cannot belong to
them!  It should be distributed PRO RATA among all my creditors."

"Come now, Huddlestone," said Northmour, "none of that."

"Well, but my daughter," moaned the wretched man.

"Your daughter will do well enough.  Here are two suitors, Cassilis
and I, neither of us beggars, between whom she has to choose.  And
as for yourself, to make an end of arguments, you have no right to
a farthing, and, unless I'm much mistaken, you are going to die."

It was certainly very cruelly said; but Mr. Huddlestone was a man
who attracted little sympathy; and, although I saw him wince and
shudder, I mentally endorsed the rebuke; nay, I added a
contribution of my own.

"Northmour and I," I said, "are willing enough to help you to save
your life, but not to escape with stolen property."

He struggled for a while with himself, as though he were on the
point of giving way to anger, but prudence had the best of the
controversy.

"My dear boys," he said, "do with me or my money what you will.  I
leave all in your hands.  Let me compose myself."

And so we left him, gladly enough I am sure.  The last that I saw,
he had once more taken up his great Bible, and with tremulous hands
was adjusting his spectacles to read.



CHAPTER VII - TELLS HOW A WORD WAS CRIED THROUGH THE PAVILION
WINDOW



The recollection of that afternoon will always be graven on my
mind.  Northmour and I were persuaded that an attack was imminent;
and if it had been in our power to alter in any way the order of
events, that power would have been used to precipitate rather than
delay the critical moment.  The worst was to be anticipated; yet we
could conceive no extremity so miserable as the suspense we were
now suffering.  I have never been an eager, though always a great,
reader; but I never knew books so insipid as those which I took up
and cast aside that afternoon in the pavilion.  Even talk became
impossible, as the hours went on.  One or other was always
listening for some sound, or peering from an upstairs window over
the links.  And yet not a sign indicated the presence of our foes.

We debated over and over again my proposal with regard to the
money; and had we been in complete possession of our faculties, I
am sure we should have condemned it as unwise; but we were
flustered with alarm, grasped at a straw, and determined, although
it was as much as advertising Mr. Huddlestone's presence in the
pavilion, to carry my proposal into effect.

The sum was part in specie, part in bank paper, and part in
circular notes payable to the name of James Gregory.  We took it
out, counted it, enclosed it once more in a despatch-box belonging
to Northmour, and prepared a letter in Italian which he tied to the
handle.  It was signed by both of us under oath, and declared that
this was all the money which had escaped the failure of the house
of Huddlestone.  This was, perhaps, the maddest action ever
perpetrated by two persons professing to be sane.  Had the
despatch-box fallen into other hands than those for which it was
intended, we stood criminally convicted on our own written
testimony; but, as I have said, we were neither of us in a
condition to judge soberly, and had a thirst for action that drove
us to do something, right or wrong, rather than endure the agony of
waiting.  Moreover, as we were both convinced that the hollows of
the links were alive with hidden spies upon our movements, we hoped
that our appearance with the box might lead to a parley, and,
perhaps, a compromise.

It was nearly three when we issued from the pavilion.  The rain had
taken off; the sun shone quite cheerfully.

I have never seen the gulls fly so close about the house or
approach so fearlessly to human beings.  On the very doorstep one
flapped heavily past our heads, and uttered its wild cry in my very
ear.

"There is an omen for you," said Northmour, who like all
freethinkers was much under the influence of superstition.  "They
think we are already dead."

I made some light rejoinder, but it was with half my heart; for the
circumstance had impressed me.

A yard or two before the gate, on a patch of smooth turf, we set
down the despatch-box; and Northmour waved a white handkerchief
over his head.  Nothing replied.  We raised our voices, and cried
aloud in Italian that we were there as ambassadors to arrange the
quarrel; but the stillness remained unbroken save by the sea-gulls
and the surf.  I had a weight at my heart when we desisted; and I
saw that even Northmour was unusually pale.  He looked over his
shoulder nervously, as though he feared that some one had crept
between him and the pavilion door.

"By God," he said in a whisper, "this is too much for me!"

I replied in the same key:  "Suppose there should be none, after
all!"

"Look there," he returned, nodding with his head, as though he had
been afraid to point.

I glanced in the direction indicated; and there, from the northern
quarter of the Sea-Wood, beheld a thin column of smoke rising
steadily against the now cloudless sky.

"Northmour," I said (we still continued to talk in whispers), "it
is not possible to endure this suspense.  I prefer death fifty
times over.  Stay you here to watch the pavilion; I will go forward
and make sure, if I have to walk right into their camp."

He looked once again all round him with puckered eyes, and then
nodded assentingly to my proposal.

My heart beat like a sledge-hammer as I set out walking rapidly in
the direction of the smoke; and, though up to that moment I had
felt chill and shivering, I was suddenly conscious of a glow of
heat over all my body.  The ground in this direction was very
uneven; a hundred men might have lain hidden in as many square
yards about my path.  But I had not practised the business in vain,
chose such routes as cut at the very root of concealment, and, by
keeping along the most convenient ridges, commanded several hollows
at a time.  It was not long before I was rewarded for my caution.
Coming suddenly on to a mound somewhat more elevated than the
surrounding hummocks, I saw, not thirty yards away, a man bent
almost double, and running as fast as his attitude permitted, along
the bottom of a gully.  I had dislodged one of the spies from his
ambush.  As soon as I sighted him, I called loudly both in English
and Italian; and he, seeing concealment was no longer possible,
straightened himself out, leaped from the gully, and made off as
straight as an arrow for the borders of the wood.

It was none of my business to pursue; I had learned what I wanted -
that we were beleaguered and watched in the pavilion; and I
returned at once, and walking as nearly as possible in my old
footsteps, to where Northmour awaited me beside the despatch-box.
He was even paler than when I had left him, and his voice shook a
little.

"Could you see what he was like?" he asked.

"He kept his back turned," I replied.

"Let us get into the house, Frank.  I don't think I'm a coward, but
I can stand no more of this," he whispered.

All was still and sunshiny about the pavilion as we turned to re-
enter it; even the gulls had flown in a wider circuit, and were
seen flickering along the beach and sand-hills; and this loneliness
terrified me more than a regiment under arms.  It was not until the
door was barricaded that I could draw a full inspiration and
relieve the weight that lay upon my bosom.  Northmour and I
exchanged a steady glance; and I suppose each made his own
reflections on the white and startled aspect of the other.

"You were right," I said.  "All is over.  Shake hands, old man, for
the last time."

"Yes," replied he, "I will shake hands; for, as sure as I am here,
I bear no malice.  But, remember, if, by some impossible accident,
we should give the slip to these blackguards, I'll take the upper
hand of you by fair or foul."

"Oh," said I, "you weary me!"

He seemed hurt, and walked away in silence to the foot of the
stairs, where he paused.

"You do not understand," said he.  "I am not a swindler, and I
guard myself; that is all.  It may weary you or not, Mr. Cassilis,
I do not care a rush; I speak for my own satisfaction, and not for
your amusement.  You had better go upstairs and court the girl; for
my part, I stay here."

"And I stay with you," I returned.  "Do you think I would steal a
march, even with your permission?"

"Frank," he said, smiling, "it's a pity you are an ass, for you
have the makings of a man.  I think I must be FEY to-day; you
cannot irritate me even when you try.  Do you know," he continued
softly, "I think we are the two most miserable men in England, you
and I? we have got on to thirty without wife or child, or so much
as a shop to look after - poor, pitiful, lost devils, both!  And
now we clash about a girl!  As if there were not several millions
in the United Kingdom!  Ah, Frank, Frank, the one who loses this
throw, be it you or me, he has my pity!  It were better for him -
how does the Bible say? - that a millstone were hanged about his
neck and he were cast into the depth of the sea.  Let us take a
drink," he concluded suddenly, but without any levity of tone.

I was touched by his words, and consented.  He sat down on the
table in the dining-room, and held up the glass of sherry to his
eye.

"If you beat me, Frank," he said, "I shall take to drink.  What
will you do, if it goes the other way?"

"God knows," I returned.

"Well," said he, "here is a toast in the meantime:  'ITALIA
IRREDENTA!'"

The remainder of the day was passed in the same dreadful tedium and
suspense.  I laid the table for dinner, while Northmour and Clara
prepared the meal together in the kitchen.  I could hear their talk
as I went to and fro, and was surprised to find it ran all the time
upon myself.  Northmour again bracketed us together, and rallied
Clara on a choice of husbands; but he continued to speak of me with
some feeling, and uttered nothing to my prejudice unless he
included himself in the condemnation.  This awakened a sense of
gratitude in my heart, which combined with the immediateness of our
peril to fill my eyes with tears.  After all, I thought - and
perhaps the thought was laughably vain - we were here three very
noble human beings to perish in defence of a thieving banker.

Before we sat down to table, I looked forth from an upstairs
window.  The day was beginning to decline; the links were utterly
deserted; the despatch-box still lay untouched where we had left it
hours before.

Mr. Huddlestone, in a long yellow dressing-gown, took one end of
the table, Clara the other; while Northmour and I faced each other
from the sides.  The lamp was brightly trimmed; the wine was good;
the viands, although mostly cold, excellent of their sort.  We
seemed to have agreed tacitly; all reference to the impending
catastrophe was carefully avoided; and, considering our tragic
circumstances, we made a merrier party than could have been
expected.  From time to time, it is true, Northmour or I would rise
from table and make a round of the defences; and, on each of these
occasions, Mr. Huddlestone was recalled to a sense of his tragic
predicament, glanced up with ghastly eyes, and bore for an instant
on his countenance the stamp of terror.  But he hastened to empty
his glass, wiped his forehead with his handkerchief, and joined
again in the conversation.

I was astonished at the wit and information he displayed.  Mr.
Huddlestone's was certainly no ordinary character; he had read and
observed for himself; his gifts were sound; and, though I could
never have learned to love the man, I began to understand his
success in business, and the great respect in which he had been
held before his failure.  He had, above all, the talent of society;
and though I never heard him speak but on this one and most
unfavourable occasion, I set him down among the most brilliant
conversationalists I ever met.

He was relating with great gusto, and seemingly no feeling of
shame, the manoeuvres of a scoundrelly commission merchant whom he
had known and studied in his youth, and we were all listening with
an odd mixture of mirth and embarrassment when our little party was
brought abruptly to an end in the most startling manner.

A noise like that of a wet finger on the window-pane interrupted
Mr. Huddlestone's tale; and in an instant we were all four as white
as paper, and sat tongue-tied and motionless round the table.

"A snail," I said at last; for I had heard that these animals make
a noise somewhat similar in character.

"Snail be d-d!" said Northmour.  "Hush!"

The same sound was repeated twice at regular intervals; and then a
formidable voice shouted through the shutters the Italian word
"TRADITORE!"

Mr. Huddlestone threw his head in the air; his eyelids quivered;
next moment he fell insensible below the table.  Northmour and I
had each run to the armoury and seized a gun.  Clara was on her
feet with her hand at her throat.

So we stood waiting, for we thought the hour of attack was
certainly come; but second passed after second, and all but the
surf remained silent in the neighbourhood of the pavilion.

"Quick," said Northmour; "upstairs with him before they come."



CHAPTER VIII - TELLS THE LAST OF THE TALL MAN



Somehow or other, by hook and crook, and between the three of us,
we got Bernard Huddlestone bundled upstairs and laid upon the bed
in MY UNCLE'S ROOM.  During the whole process, which was rough
enough, he gave no sign of consciousness, and he remained, as we
had thrown him, without changing the position of a finger.  His
daughter opened his shirt and began to wet his head and bosom;
while Northmour and I ran to the window.  The weather continued
clear; the moon, which was now about full, had risen and shed a
very clear light upon the links; yet, strain our eyes as we might,
we could distinguish nothing moving.  A few dark spots, more or
less, on the uneven expanse were not to be identified; they might
be crouching men, they might be shadows; it was impossible to be
sure.