Chapter IV: Part 4

"The man who shall dare to do what I have done, must fight thus, with, not against, his body; must let it rule him at times, so that he may rule it more completely. The reason why Britain keeps her greatness, is owing more to her sportsmen than to her merchants, statesmen, philosophers, or divines. But let us go and rest; I will send you to sleep, and you shall see as in your dreams what I saw lying insensible after Mr. Soudin left me in my room. It will save me the trouble of talking, and at the same time be more interesting to you. But before doing so, I will ring for some coffee."

Saying this he touched a bell, and in two or three minutes went to one of the panels, slipped it aside, and brought out a tray of refreshments.

"I do not care," he said, "to let any one come in here, so I have a lift, and if I wish to stop in this part of the house all day I can do so undisturbed."

When we had finished our coffee, we both lay down on the couches in the recess, and the following scenes came to me while resting.

The first picture was very beautiful. I looked out into a bright moonlight night; some fleecy clouds were hanging across the sky, seen through trees that were now nearly bare of foliage. There was a pleasant sound of wind passing over the forest; the rustling of withered leaves. I stood close by a footpath, and could hear steps approaching; the crack of some withered branch trodden underfoot, the rustling of a dress, the whispering of voices. In another moment two figures became indistinctly visible; they were coming toward me. As they approached I caught part of their conversation. The girl was speaking.

"I don't like it at all," she said; "I am frightened. Why could not we be married in the ordinary way? It is horrid not having a proper wedding."

"But, dearest," the man answered, "you see it is impossible. Your father, you say, has told you that he will not hear of your marrying me because he has got into his mind that I am poor, and he insists on your marrying that fool Sydney, whom he thinks to be as rich as Croesus."

"But," questioned the girl, "could we not try to get his consent? Could you not convince him that after all you are well off? I am sure he would rather I married a lord, if only he did not think you were quite poor. Besides, as he is rich, it would not really matter very much."

"It will be much easier, darling, to bring him round after the wedding, when he sees there is no help for it. He will be as right as possible when once it is all over, and I introduce his daughter to him as Lady Vancome."

They were passing as he spoke, but it caused me no feeling of surprise that as they came near they took no notice of me. I was conscious that though present I was invisible, and though a witness, powerless to act. I recognized them before they came near, and thought Vera's face more ethereally lovely seen in this pale moonlight than it seemed possible for an earthly face to be. The lower and weaker feature were in shadow, the eyes that looked up to her companion were ennobled by a sadness which added to their depth.

Vancome, who had his arm round the girl, was evidently somewhat agitated. Cowardice and weakness were expressed in every feature. He was more what people used to call handsome, than what in the present day would be considered worthy of admiration.

The girl looked round into the wood, and visibly trembling, said--"I don't like it at all. Suppose some one were to see us at the station, what would they think? Oh, Frank, let us go back."

She stopped just opposite where I stood, and looking straight through me, cried--"It is horrible here! There is something there!" And she stretched out her arm and pointed to where I stood, and her hand seemed to go into my heart and cut me as though her outstretched finger had been a poignard.

The man turned, and they both stood facing me. "Don't be foolish!" he said, looking, however, somewhat scared. "There is nothing but a light patch where the moonlight falls through the opening in the trees."

"I thought for a moment," the girl replied, "that Alan Sydney was standing quite close to us."

Vancome laughed. "I fancied you meant a ghost," he replied. "It would be a new experience to see the spirit of a living man, who probably at the same time is enjoying himself behind the scenes of some London theatre. Take my word for it, Sydney's spirit is not likely to forsake the limelight goddess to come wandering after the moonlight one. But we shall miss our train if you stand looking for ghosts, and it will not take us long now to get out of this wood if we walk quickly."

As they passed the girl said--"You are quite sure we shall have no difficulty about the licence when we get to Liverpool?" But the man's reply was lost in the distance, and the scene vanished.

Then there was, as it seemed, a long pause of darkness, till all of a sudden I found myself in a brightly lighted room alone. I went to the window and looked out upon a big city; the church clock struck the hour of eight, and the streets were full of clerks and workpeople, evidently on their way to business; a newsboy was shouting out, "Post!"--"Mercury!"

While standing thus wondering, the door behind me opened, and some persons entered the room. I tried to turn round and look at them, but could not. The man, whom I recognized by his voice as Vancome, said---"Yes, this will do very well, get some breakfast for two as soon as possible. We shall not stop the night, as we leave this evening by the nine o'clock boat for America."

While listening to these words I became conscious that I was asleep, and that for some reason it was most important for me to get up at once. I struggled to open my eyes, to turn, or do anything to rouse myself. At last with a desperate effort I struck out my arm, and hitting it smartly against some object, awoke.

"Well," said Sydney, "as we have had some rest, I will go on with my story. You have just seen what passed whilst I lay unconscious in my room; and it was a little after eight on the following morning that I awoke with an effort similar to that which you have just experienced, only of course the scenes affected me far more than they did you; and I roused myself with the distinct intention of hastening to Liverpool, and trying if possible to rescue the girl.

"While in the act of giving instructions for my things to be packed up, Mr. Soudin in a great state of excitement dashed into the room. He had just had a telegram from his wife, saying that Vera had on the afternoon of the previous day walked over to see some friends. The carriage had been sent to fetch her, but the coachman brought back word that she had started to walk home about seven o'clock; and since that nothing had been seen or heard of her.

"'I am going to the north at once,' he said. 'Will you come and help?'

"I replied that though anxious to help, I expected to be of more service in taking steps independently.

"He tried to persuade me to alter my determination, but seeing that I was fixed upon it, left to catch his train.

"'It is possible,' I said, 'that you may see Vera back to-morrow about this time; and if she comes, deal kindly with her, and remember that nothing which has happened will make any difference to my intentions.'

"'I believe,' he replied, 'either that you are mad, or know something of this.'

"'I may be mad,' I answered, 'but don't forget.'

"I arrived at Liverpool later than I expected, and having no knowledge of the town, thought it would be safer to discover which boat started at nine, and watch that rather than risk hunting for the hotel. I, however, drove first to the house of a friend of mine, Mrs. Freshfield, who lived at Woolton, a suburb a few miles outside the city. I briefly explained my position, also that of the girl, and her kindly heart was soon roused to help me if possible.

"'Why don't you communicate with the police?' she said.

"'I shall,' I replied, 'as a last resource, but hope to be able to work without their assistance, so as to avoid making any scandal.'

"She was also very anxious to know how the plot had been discovered, but, not wishing to tell her, I excused myself on the ground of time, and receiving her promise to wait for me at a certain place near the docks from eight to nine, I left, and hurried back to the city to complete my arrangements.

"It was now past five, and already growing dusk, as I went to a private detective office, and requested to see the chief officer. When told briefly the facts of the case, he seemed very doubtful whether the law could help me if the girl was leaving of her own will.

"I replied that if so the law was iniquitous, which he seemed to think very probable; at the same time the fact did not help us. But when I pointed out that this was a case in which money was of no consequence, and that if it should cost L5000 it must be done, he immediately altered his tone.

"'You have come to the right place,' he said, his face visibly brightening, 'for we act for the public, not for the Government, and money can do pretty well anything. Are you prepared to swear, if necessary, to an indictable offence against this man?'

"I told him I would swear anything rather than that harm should happen to the girl.

"'You will not mind leaving a guarantee in the way of money?' he asked.

"I satisfied him on this point also.

"Finally it was arranged that if I could not get Vera away secretly, he should be prepared to have Vancome arrested. He, however, warned me that we were running a considerable risk, and let me fully understand that he intended to deny all knowledge of my real motives.

"Having settled this matter, I went down to the docks, found out the vessel and waited.

"It was a beautiful night, calm and clear, with a slight mist lying over the Mersey. As I waited watching the vessels pass and repass, the moon rose and lit up the broad expanse of water. The sands in the direction of Waterloo were nearly covered, and looking westward the river spread out as if to welcome the opening sea. I cursed the ocean as I thought that it might so soon have been the means of bearing away one I loved from every helping hand. I pictured Vera when she realized the truth, looking out over the cruel waste of water, helpless, compromised, and too weak to struggle against her fate; a fate which probably she would only half comprehend or realize. Some passengers were already on the steamer. She might even now be there. I walked across the landing-stage to the vessel, but could see no sign of either of the fugitives.

"The time passed; I grew anxious. Could there be some mistake? At last, utterly unnerved, I sat down, and my heart cried out, 'Vera! Vera! come, oh, come! that I may save you.'

"A hand touched me on the shoulder. I looked up, the girl was standing over me; she had in her eyes a strange far-away look as though she were walking in her sleep.

"'You called me,' she said, 'but I must not wait, for my husband told me on no account to leave the berth until the ship had started.'

"I made no audible reply, but willing her to follow me, left the ship. Passing across the bridge I saw my detective waiting.

"'Keep the money,' I whispered.

"He saluted, and we passed on, the girl still following close behind me. I led the way to where Mrs. Freshfield had promised to wait, and found her in a state of great excitement. When, however, she saw Vera a look of relief passed over her face, and the kind-hearted woman went up, took the girl in her arms and kissed her as if she had been a long-lost child of her own.

"'Vera,' I said, bringing all my power to bear upon her, 'I want you to go home with this lady at once; do you understand?'

"'Yes, go home,' she answered in a weary, uninterested voice.

"I took her hands in mine, bent over and kissed her. 'Forget,' I whispered, 'all that has happened in the last thirty hours, and hate, hate, hate Vancome.'

"I said good-bye to my friend, made her promise to take Vera to her home at once, and left them.

"A frenzy of delight passed through me; for the moment I was mad. Though I had touched no food for thirty hours, I did not experience any feeling of hunger. I was hungry only for revenge. I would go back to the ship, would see the man's look of baffled rage and anger; would laugh at him, mock him, torture him. I began to run, and still in this mood regained the landing-place, and pressing my way past a crowd of people, who were leaving the vessel, went on board. Where was he? I thought of nothing else, cared for nothing, but to look at his face, to taunt him. I heard whistles blowing, shouts, the motion of the engine, but cared for nothing. I would find him. If the worst came to the worst it would be possible to get off at Queenstown. What did anything matter now that Vera was safe!

"But with regard to Queenstown I was mistaken. Vancome had planned his elopement some little time before, and with more forethought and care than I should have expected of him. The vessel he had chosen was making an experimental time journey, with special pilots on board, and did not stop anywhere this side of the Atlantic.

"While I was thus frantically searching for the enemy, he was quietly enjoying a cigar in the smoking-saloon, in the full confidence that Vera was in hiding, according to instructions, in the state cabin, which he had engaged. When his cigar was finished and the ship well on its way, he walked over to the cabin with the intention of releasing his captive; but finding she had already gone, and supposing that, the ship being in motion, she had considered herself free, he sauntered quietly up the ladder expecting to find her on deck. Thus it happened that we met at last face to face.

"The moment I saw him my excitement left me, and I became calm and collected. He evidently knew nothing as yet, and I enjoyed the pleasure of playing with him before dealing the final blow. Besides, it would be safer to keep him from knowing the worst till we were out of the Mersey and in the open sea, for I thought that probably the river pilot would leave before long, and my foe might get permission to accompany him on shore, in which case the safety of my plans might be slightly endangered. Assuming, therefore, a natural surprise, I said--

"'Well, who would have expected to meet you here?'

"He glared at me for a moment, then, feeling that it was necessary to say something, answered, 'You cannot be more surprised than I am to see you, for I thought you were in London. But you must excuse me a moment.' He hurried forward, and I saw him looking intently across the deck, scanning all the passengers with the evident expectation of seeing Vera.

"I watched, with a smile on my face. Having satisfied himself that she was not on deck, he came back to me, and I suggested that we should go into the smoking-room.

"He thought for a moment, and then, evidently fancying that it would be the safest plan to keep me out of the way of discovering anything for the present, assented.

"The room was unoccupied, and we sat down opposite each other. He was evidently debating as to which was the best course to pursue. He could not keep Vera in hiding through the voyage, and therefore was certain to be found out. I could hardly restrain my laughter at his view of the position. What would he say when he discovered that her place had been taken by me? This suggested an idea.

"'I suppose,' I said, 'you cannot help me? I came on board at the last moment and have not yet engaged a berth. There is not a spare one in your cabin?'

"'_Damned if there is!_' he thought; but he only said after a little hesitation, 'No, it is occupied.'

"'Now look here,' I continued, 'you will never guess why I came here; it is such fun, you will enjoy the situation, but you must keep it quiet. I have run off with some one else's wife!' and I burst out in loud laughter.

"He looked relieved, patted me on the back, and began to whistle. 'What about the cabin?' he said, laughing.

"'Oh!' I replied (having in truth forgotten all about it), 'that was my little joke.'

"'_Then,_' he thought, '_I need not mind about him now, and may as well make a dean breast of it!_' 'I hope you have not run off with mine,' he said. 'You see I cannot now quite approve of these actions, I am a married man myself.'

"'A married man!' I exclaimed, trying to look more surprised than I felt, at what I supposed was a lie.

"'Look at that,' he continued, and drew from his pocket a copy of a marriage-licence dated that day at a registry office in Liverpool.

"It was--I could not be mistaken, the names and particulars were clear, though Vera's age had been inaccurately stated as twenty-one. I can see the paper distinctly at this moment, every cursed line. My brain reeled, and shouting out,--'My lie is true. I have run away with some one else's wife--your wife,' I fell forward on the floor insensible.

"On recovering I found that I had been placed in a cabin by myself, and was under the doctor's hands. It required but little power of thought-reading to discover that he regarded me as an escaped and rather dangerous lunatic, an opinion which I felt to be not far from correct. The position was ridiculous in the extreme. Following the dictates of my partially-developed powers, I had formed an erroneous view; rescued a girl against her will from her own husband, and was now taking a needless voyage in her place to America. I wondered what Vancome thought of it all, and had not long to wait before discovering, as he, having obtained permission from the doctor, appeared later on in the day.

"I hated him more than ever, but at the same time was anxious to discuss matters.

"After closing the door, he sat down, saying, 'What in the devil's name is the meaning of all this?'

"'Perhaps,' I said, 'you will tell me first of all what you have done, then I will tell you what I have done, and possibly the meaning may come.'

"'Firstly,' he exclaimed, 'will you explain how you can have run off with my wife when you are here, and she is not? Where is she?'

"I felt aggravated, and therefore inclined to be aggravating. 'I left her,' I answered, 'as you know is generally the end of man's inconsistency in this case.'

"'This is ridiculous!' he replied, a dangerous light coming into his eyes. 'If you don't take care you will tempt me too far!'

"I felt nothing would please me more than to get him to murder me, then after he had been hanged Vera might go free.

"'I hope,' I said, 'you like your wedding trip, you coward. Who, half drunken with the father's wine, made a stage-play scene for the benefit of his child, when her very innocence should have protected her? Who lied about his private property, when he was in reality a beggar and will soon be a bankrupt? Who at last decided to marry in the hope of living on his wife's fortune?'

"He had come nearer and was now standing over me; his hand was on my throat; but for his natural cowardice he would have strangled me. His eyes glared down with fiendish anger!

"'You devil!' he cried, 'for devil I believe you are! Curse you! Curse you!'

"'I have still a trifle of news left, it may be a comfort for you to reflect upon it,' I said. 'Mr. Soudin is as badly off as you are. I heard the newsboy shouting that an unlimited bank has failed in which he is considerably interested. Probably if your mortgagees are merciful he may be bankrupt before you even now!'

"Vancome looked at me for a moment, then, seeming satisfied that as I knew so much it might be safe to rely upon me even in this, sank back in his chair. The last blow had tamed him. He was not only robbed of his wife, but what to him seemed far worse, utterly ruined, with or without her; cut off from his long-cherished hope of redeeming his fortune by marriage. I felt toward him almost a sensation of pity.

"After a pause he muttered, 'I cannot believe it! Some one told me that Soudin was very wealthy--a regular miser, rolling in gold! Look here,' he continued, turning to me, but the anger had left his face. 'Tell me plainly, how do you know all these things? How did you know we were here? What have you done with Vera? And why in the name of fortune are you travelling with me to America?'

"I should have been a good deal puzzled to reply to the last question, and had no intention of answering the three others, so I remained silent. At this moment the doctor entered, and I expressed a wish to speak to him alone. Vancome left us evidently unwillingly.

"'I see from your manner,' I said to the doctor, 'that you believe me to be insane. I must therefore try to convince you that this is not the case, though you were quite justified in accepting the view you did. I came on board this ship hoping to find out something of great importance. During my search the vessel started. I then heard very bad news, and having in my excitement not tasted food for many hours, I fainted. Will you let the captain know, however, that I am well provided with money, and willing to pay for the best accommodation possible?'

"I took out my pocket-book and handed him a card, and at the same time drawing out a roll of notes which represented over L2000. I had brought this money with me for the purpose of bribery, for had I found it necessary to resort to that expedient, ready cash would have been required.

"The sight of the money had more effect in satisfying the doctor that he had not to deal with an escaped lunatic than any words could have done; but I noticed he was meditating on the probability of my being an escaped thief instead. However, having apparently decided that such matters were out of his line of business, and seeing a good chance of being paid for his services, his manner changed, and he became the friendly practitioner.

"I was soon supplied with a few requisites for the journey and also moved to very comfortable quarters; but I was most anxious to get an opportunity of returning at once to England. In the evening I consulted the captain, but though I offered a large reward if he could put me on a homebound vessel, he declined to stop the ship on her trial trip.

"Fortune nevertheless favoured me. We had been talking for some time, and it was well on into the night. The sea was smooth, though a gentle westerly breeze was blowing. The passengers had retired for the night.

"'How much did you say you were prepared to give?' he asked presently.

"I saw he was wavering, and doubled the sum.

"'Well,' he said looking out, 'if I am not mistaken, that is a Southampton schooner in the distance. Will you swear to keep the matter dark if I get you on board?'

"I assented.

"'Do you know any one on this vessel?' he then asked.

"'Only one man,' I replied, 'and he will be less surprised at my disappearance than he was at my appearance. He believes I am a magician.'

"'We will chance it,' he said. 'You are not a passenger, and the whole business can be done in ten minutes.'

"He gave some instructions and signalling went on. Then he crossed to one of the mates, with whom he had a private conversation, which led to a boat being got ready. The schooner had tacked and was coming quickly towards us.

"'It is all right,' the officer said. 'I know the Captain of this ship, and my mate will explain to him that you are willing to pay L100 for your trip to Southampton. He will keep the matter dark. Good-bye!'

"The steamer had slackened, and we glided noiselessly toward the sailing ship. As the boat was lowered I handed the speaker a handful of notes. In less than five minutes I was on board the schooner, and before the week was out, in London."

*CHAPTER VI*

"I found among the letters waiting attention, one from Mr. Soudin, thanking me most warmly for my action in saving his daughter from Lord Vancome, to whom he referred in language that hardly bears repetition. It was a diplomatic letter, striving to shield Vera as much as possible, and endeavouring to make out that she had not only left home against her will, but even hinting that she had been drugged, as he said that since her return with Mrs. Freshfield she had been unable to give any account of what had happened, and that she evidently looked upon Vancome with absolute detestation. This satisfied me that the influence which I had exercised had been successful, and the girl remembered nothing about the marriage. It was also plain that her father had no idea of the truth. You may well conceive that my position was both a painful and difficult one. I decided to go at once to Scotland, and hoped that during the journey I might be able to form some plans for future action.

"There was also a note from Mr. Marsden, saying that his scheme was progressing favourably, and that he considered it would be better to make Lord Vancome a bankrupt; he had got possession of all his bills, and now only awaited instructions before taking final action.

"Without replying to either of the letters, I started for the North by the night train, and slept nearly the whole time, instead of devoting it to unravelling the entangled skein, which was probably the better plan, for I was thoroughly tired. Consequently I arrived at Heather Lodge refreshed, but without having the least idea of what course to pursue.

"Mr. Soudin had gone out, and I found Vera sitting alone, engaged in reading a novel. She seemed pleased to see me, and we sat for some time talking on trivial matters, which gave me an opportunity of reading her thoughts, and thus finding out whether the memory of her journey to Liverpool had returned. With some relief I soon discovered that, though she had a dim remembrance of having intended to run away from home with Vancome, and of a journey with some unknown lady, the intervening period was still a blank; and, moreover, that she had been persuaded even this remembrance was but a delusion owing to illness. After her return she had suffered from a slight fever, brought on no doubt by the excitement; and during recovery it was easy to make her believe that what remembrance she retained was simply the effect of delirium. Though she now disliked Vancome, it was not difficult to perceive that she had not forgotten our former quarrel. Her father had apparently been urging her strongly to accept my suit and had prevailed, but there was no sign that she loved me; and this fact, considering the strange position in which we were placed, ought to have caused me more relief than it did.

"I found it impossible to convince my heart that, considering the circumstances, such a husband had any right over this girl; though at the same time I fully realized how all hope of my marrying her was at an end, and that my love must in future be unselfish, desiring neither any return of affection nor other reward.

"You may think that from the time I became acquainted with the marriage, it was my duty to stamp out all feeling of affection and accept this as a sign that I had previously been mistaken in supposing our lives were for all time to influence each other, or that I was still responsible for the girl's future. In fact, considering her character, one so placed might well, from a selfish point of view, have rejoiced in regaining freedom from a burden that could only bring pain and trouble through life. Such views have become the accepted canons of society, and in most cases it would be foolish to fight against them. Marriage in itself is a wise law fitted to the present condition of our lower animal natures, and to tamper with it is not only a dangerous, but a retrograde step. For it shadows forth the nobler union of souls, and in some few cases may even bring a foretaste of future joy.

"On the other hand, it is equally false to assume that this legal or so-called religious tie has any necessary spiritual significance; and while at the present day the bond is often held too lightly, there are some, who, conscious of nobler feelings and aspirations, regard wedlock as a divine union of souls. This view, though correct as an ideal, finds too seldom its realization; hence arises no little confusion of ideas and much unnecessary trouble of heart. The scoffers ask, with the Sadducees of old, which man's wife shall such a one be in the resurrection, forgetting that the body is nothing, and that the passions of the body are nothing but the trivialities of a transitory condition. Such things are intended to seem important to us whilst on earth; and bear an apparent significance out of all proportion to their spiritual importance. Thus we live in a world full of heaven-sent delusions. No observation of other lives can destroy them, for each man or woman must learn the lesson by experience.

"Think of all that has been written and all that has been said about love, and yet how year by year we see the same picture reproduced. When first a girl attracts a youth, or may be a man of mature years, what are his feelings? If only he can get her to consent to be his wife, he believes that his whole existence must be changed to one of joy; that in her company all other interests will be as nothing; that it must be impossible to tire of her presence, to be a moment absent from her without pain, that they will in fact continue lovers to the end. If he looks round on his married acquaintances it is nothing to him that he can find no such state of existence; others can never have felt as he feels, for no one had like cause. He may be half conscious that he is being tricked by his emotions, but he prefers not to question his mind on the subject. Nature is too strong for reason, and having her work to accomplish, fulfils her mission."

I was surprised to hear Sydney speaking in this way, and interrupted him by asking if he did not believe in the possibility of an enduring and true love on earth.

"Yes," he replied, "most certainly; but not in this fascination lasting. True love can only be tested by those who have learned the lesson of self-renunciation. If you wish to know whether you love or not, face these questions--Is it for myself this possession is desired, or am I striving only for the happiness of the one beloved? Should she change, and the beauty, if there is beauty, turn to the most repulsive ugliness; her apparent saintliness to sin; her affection to hatred, or her sanity to madness, should I still love her? If you can truly say this, and have sufficient imagination to realize fully the meaning of the change, yours is love; and if in after times, when trial comes, your self-confidence leaves you, such love may even then rest assured it is eternal, because it is of God. But we see this devotion more often exhibited in the passion of parent for child than in love between man and wife. The reason of this being that the latter relationship begins with the expectation of a love to be returned, and the former with a ministry of tenderness which can at the time receive no active response. It is ever owing to seemingly adverse circumstances that the finer qualities of man's nature are drawn forth, and I have more reason to be thankful for the misery and perplexity which my love for Vera brought into my life than for all the hours of happiness which I have known. Much, however, as we may appreciate these disguised blessings in retrospect, it does not make them more agreeable to pass through; and this time which I spent at Heather Lodge was perhaps, with one exception, the most miserable period of my life.

"I felt that it was absolutely necessary to take the first opportunity of letting Mr. Soudin know the truth. As soon as he returned, and I had a chance of speaking to him alone, I started on the unpleasant task. He listened patiently to the outline of the story till I came to the marriage-licence, then turning livid with anger he lost all self-control.

"'I don't believe it!' he said. 'It is outrageous--monstrous! Why, the girl's not of age. He would have been bound to get my consent. You must know that the thing's out of the question!'

"When I explained that the age had been altered, he grew still more furious.

"'I'll have him up for perjury!' he cried. 'Get the marriage annulled, for after all it was never consummated; the thing's preposterous. He drugs the girl, gets her into his power, commits perjury, and hopes thereby to live on me for the rest of his life; but he is mistaken; the thing shall be put right at once!'

"As soon as he was a little calmer I tried to reason with him, and show that it would be no easy matter to prove that Vera was not a consenting party.

"'Had you not better,' I asked, 'go to Liverpool, and see the registrar before whom the marriage took place, and also examine the signatures? A prosecution for perjury might possibly fall upon your daughter if you are not careful how you act.'

"At last he consented to take the course suggested, on the condition that I did not leave until his return, and the following morning he started for Liverpool.

"I was left practically alone with Vera, her mother being still confined nearly all day to her room. I decided to let my powers, as far as possible, lie dormant, and to watch her only as I should have done before the development of my new sense; to see her as any other man might, and endeavour to judge how much of her inner character was obvious to those who came in contact with her in ordinary life.

"It is always easy thus to throw off a possession that has been recently acquired, and it is often a relief to do so. My animal nature gained in strength the moment it was released from the new spiritual bondage. Moreover, my companion seemed conscious of a similar relief; I had never seen her so bright and happy; she became at once a merry, playful child, recklessly mischievous and fascinatingly coquettish.

"In the afternoon, the day after my arrival, we walked together over the moors to a little village by the sea. Though the autumn was now far advanced, it was one of those Indian summer days in which each act of breathing becomes a separate joy, when every soft breath of wind helps to intoxicate the brain. I felt as if with every mile I walked a year of life dropped from me, till, when we reached the seashore, I had arrived at boyhood and had cast away all care, all thoughts of the past.

"The girl beside me was no longer the wife of an enemy, but my child-playfellow; our spirits acted and reacted upon each other. We were alone with the seagulls and the waves. The cries of the former and the music of the latter harmonized with the reckless exultation that overwhelmed us. Barefooted we waded in the chilly water, or chased each other over the warm sand with laughter and shouting. Among the rocks and caves we hunted for curious sea-creatures, sadly missing our childhood's buckets in which to place the captives. Near at hand was a rocky basin, which became our aquarium; hither we brought, with mingling sounds of exultation and fear, the wriggling captives, pride in each new treasure demanding appreciation from the less fortunate.

"The clear pool was soon teeming with live creatures thus reluctantly brought into close contact, and through the forest of delicate seaweed we watched some fierce and deadly battles; whilst the more lymphatic species lay around, allowing their bodies with equal complacency to be made the stepping-stones to victory or the shelter from defeat.

"Thus in childish pleasure the hours went by, till, tired out with our play, we sat down side by side to rest.

"'Whatever would people think if they could see us?' Vera said, covering up her bare feet in the warm sand.

"It may have been her action, or something in the tone of her voice. In a moment the happy, boyish feeling left me. The years began to hurry back, the innocent pleasure to fade, and in its place the passion of manhood came with overwhelming power, baffling and mocking me. I looked at my companion--child-playmate no longer. Her face was flushed, her uncovered head a mass of soft, light, waving curls; her eyes sparkled with merry mischief, but beneath the mischief there was that look I had surprised before, the reflection of my own feeling on the girl's nature; but how differently did it affect me now! When first I had seen it, Vera had promised to be my wife; now she was the wife of another. It seemed almost incredible that a mere legal formality, such as her marriage had been, could so entirely alter our relationship; but still stranger how the knowledge of this alteration strengthened all the lower passions of my nature, at the expense of the higher. Every feeling that had hitherto been sanctified by love was now sacrilege against that love. I made a desperate effort to regain the mastery over my weakness; but, alas! I had kindled a new fire of temptation.

"Vera came close to me, and laying her hand on mine, said--'Alan, I think that I will forgive you, after all. I like you better to-day than ever before.'

"What had I done? My object having been to help this girl, my want of success was pitiable. Having deprived her of the knowledge of her marriage, and caused her to hate her husband, I was now bringing her once more beneath the influence of a passion which could only end in misery and degradation. Yet, as I looked at her, it seemed impossible to withstand the temptation of taking her once more, if only once, into my arms. She was waiting for my kiss of reconciliation; and more than this, of the torrent of love long restrained. I was powerless, and knowing that no strength of my own could save me, with one last cry for help, I gave over the contest. At the same instant I was free.

"Of all the strange mysteries connected with our nature, nothing is more remarkable than what is called the efficacy of prayer. As long as a man fights against his temptations he but increases their force, especially in such a contest as this. But should his will be really against the temptation, a path is always open. Let him once acknowledge his own weakness, and allow for a moment his spirit to cry for assistance, and he will find himself lifted from the burden of the body, in a way that those who have never experienced the sensation would think impossible. One thing only is necessary, but that is essential: the cry must be an honest desire of the heart, and not a weak prompting of habit.

"It is not that strength to resist the evil is sent as an answer to the prayer, but that the temptation is utterly removed, the force of the body being, as it were, for the time annihilated; so at least have I ever found it, and so it proved in this case. I could look now at my companion without fear, and love her with a love that I knew was innocent. The very remembrance of my past thoughts filled me with a wondering horror. Summoning all my strength of will, I strove to recall to her mind the page which had been obliterated, and to bring back her natural feeling towards Vancome, which had changed to hatred.

"Whilst doing this, I repeated the story, hoping thereby to assist her memory, but, from a then unknown reason, I failed utterly, and the only impression which she formed was that I had gone mad. When I tried to take her hand in mine so as to gain more influence over her will, she rose and left me.

"I could see her in the distance evidently getting ready to start for home. I dared not follow her, knowing that had I done so, she would in her fear have run bare-headed and bare-footed over the moor, rather than let me come near her.

"She, however, seemed undecided in her mind, and for the first time that day I began to be conscious of her thoughts. Seeing that I had made no attempt to follow her, or to exhibit any further signs of insanity, the sudden fear had evidently diminished, and she began to fancy that probably I had only been fooling her for the pleasure of seeing if she could be made to believe the story. At length, being satisfied that this was the explanation, she began to walk slowly towards the place where I was sitting, and then called to me, saying that it was time to go back. I answered that I was quite ready, but that it seemed a pity to go so soon. My voice still further reassuring her, she came and looked over the rock, saying--

"'So you thought you could take me in with that rubbish, did you?'

"'Well,' I replied, 'that was my intention, but as it's evidently of no use, I must give in. Your imagination is not so easily influenced as I thought.'

"'I should think not,' she said. 'But you acted very well, and I really thought for the moment you had gone mad. It was very nasty of you to spoil our happy day in that manner. I suppose you did it in revenge.'

"'No, I did not, dear,' I answered. 'But come and sit down. We will say no more about it.'

"She did as I asked her, protesting all the while that I was a brute; but in five minutes I had managed to change the subject, and to get her to take my hand. Then without speaking I willed her to sleep. Slowly she leant further back; her head sank down, and in less than a minute she was quite unconscious.

"There would, I now knew, be no difficulty in impressing on her mind what had previously been obliterated, and moreover, there was plenty of time to consider whether it might not be well to keep her still in ignorance of some part of her experience with Vancome. But thinking the matter over, I decided it would not under the circumstances be right to interfere with the past. So I willed her to remember all, and to awake with the same feelings towards her husband as those which she felt before she left the ship; moreover, that she should not only understand what course I had pursued, but my reason for pursuing it, and my ignorance of the marriage.

"In her hypnotic condition she was able to answer my questions, and I felt satisfied that when she recovered, she would be able clearly to recall the past.

"Once more I laid my hand over her eyes, and bade her sleep, it being easier and safer to recall the patient to a natural condition, from a state of placid, rather than active, mesmerism. But on trying to rouse her, I was again destined to failure. It was impossible to bring her back to consciousness, or even to influence her now in any way. She lay in one of those cataleptic trances, which no power then known could break, and which form the chief danger connected with all such experiments. Even now, though I should have little difficulty in dealing with a case of this kind, I should be loath, except in emergency, or where the life of the body was endangered, to recall the spirit which is for the time free from its bodily trammels. But in those days I was unable to do so.

"At length alarmed, I took her in my arms and carried her to the little fishing village, where with some difficulty I managed to find a vehicle to drive back to Heather Lodge. It is not necessary for me to go into the details of the two anxious days which followed. During this time all the efforts, not only of the local doctor, but of two consulting physicians, had no effect in rousing Vera from her unnatural sleep. On the third day, however, she awoke, and seemed little the worse for her experience.

"Mr. Soudin had, in the meantime, returned in a state of the greatest despondency, and as soon as the news of his daughter's recovery had relieved my mind of an anxiety, which had made it impossible for me to think of other matters, I had a long talk with him.

"His pride and reserve were broken, and I was relieved to find that he intended to make a full confession of his present monetary difficulties. In Liverpool his worst fears were realized. Not only had he seen Vera's signature, but the registrar had told him that as far as it was possible to judge, his daughter acted without the slightest constraint, and had seemed perfectly reasonable and collected. 'She had given her age as twenty-one, on oath, and had answered all his questions rationally. A solicitor, when consulted, had given Mr. Soudin little hope of the marriage being annulled, and had warned him that while the action would probably lead to no good, it might possibly end in his daughter and son-in-law being arrested for perjury. If, however, he continued, she possessed means of her own, it might be wise to make an application to have this money settled upon her.

"'Money!' cried Mr. Soudin, after repeating the lawyer's words, 'it is little use troubling about that. Not only has she not a penny, but I may as well tell you at once she never will have. I am ruined!' and saying this he broke down, burying his face in his hands.

"'I knew this,' I replied, 'some time ago. You might as well have shown sufficient confidence in me to mention it before; knowing that I should, for your child's sake, have been only too glad to help you. But I suppose it seemed safer to let the marriage take place first.'

"'It's all very well,' he gasped, still shaken with the sobs which he could not suppress, 'for you to talk in that way now that the marriage is impossible, and you are free to leave us all in our misery! Generosity, I have found, is only to be trusted when the personal interest of the giver is securely tied up with that of the recipient.'

"I felt inclined to retort that he, in common with most men, judged others from the standpoint which he had adopted for personal usage, but the abject misery of the man, and the fact that he was the father of Vera, restrained me, and I said--

"'It is useless to talk of the past, which is irrevocable. The question to decide is what can be done in the future.'

"'The workhouse is open,' he muttered, 'and I can hardly see how the matter can interest you. Vancome is a beggar--we are all beggars. A curse has come upon us since you first entered the house, and I sometimes think that you brought it. You seem to possess some damnable power which I neither understand nor wish any longer to experience. It will be a relief to know that you have left the house.'

"'I feel sure you will later on regret such an accusation,' I answered, 'considering that you bought your bank shares before you ever saw me, and that the bank has been insolvent for years. Moreover, as you know, I did all in my power to prevent your daughter from marrying Lord Vancome. I have, however, a proposition to make. It seems quite clear that I cannot marry Vera, but there is no reason why I should not be able to help her. She is now Lady Vancome, and though her husband is penniless, the property which he once owned is in my hands, and will before long be legally transferred to me. I have thought the matter carefully over, and decided on certain conditions to settle these estates upon your daughter for life. The income which she will derive from them will be sufficient not only to enable her to keep up Vancome's late home, but also to live there very comfortably.'

"My companion was staring at me in blank amazement, and at last he said--'But to be candid, what are you to gain by this sacrifice? You can hardly expect me to believe that you intend to hand over property worth L100,000 for the benefit of a man you hate.'

"I did not reply for a moment; it was not the man's words but his thoughts which made me mad with rage; for I saw that he had not only placed the worst motive on my action, but that in his extremity he was prepared to accept my offer even at the price of his daughter's honour.

"Seeing that I was silent, he continued--'Of course you will have to pay Vancome an allowance for keeping out of the way.' Then a bright idea seemed to strike him, and he continued--'Why not pay him a good round sum to run off with some one else, and let us get a divorce? It is only a matter of price, and desertion is as good a plea as cruelty.'

"'This may be your idea of what is best,' I said, 'but somehow it does not appeal to me, nor would it fit in with my plans. I am going to consult my lawyer; and if it should be necessary, so as to make it easy for your daughter to protect herself, as well as the property, from her husband, I may have to make Vancome an allowance. But should Vera desire it, I shall place no obstacle in the way of his returning to his old home; my only wish is to leave her independent. As soon as these arrangements are made, I shall go abroad, and it is hardly probable you will see me again for some years.'

"Having said this, and feeling it would be impossible to restrain my temper any longer, I left the room. Had I remained with Mr. Soudin I should most likely have read some of the plans which he doubtless then was formulating, and so have been able to guard Vera more wisely, and prevent much of the evil which followed.