New Arabian Nights

The Adventure of the Hansom Cab

Lieutenant Brackenbury Rich had greatly distinguished himself in

one of the lesser Indian hill wars. He it was who took the

chieftain prisoner with his own hand; his gallantry was universally

applauded; and when he came home, prostrated by an ugly sabre cut

and a protracted jungle fever, society was prepared to welcome the

Lieutenant as a celebrity of minor lustre. But his was a character

remarkable for unaffected modesty; adventure was dear to his heart,

but he cared little for adulation; and he waited at foreign

watering-places and in Algiers until the fame of his exploits had

run through its nine days' vitality and begun to be forgotten. He

arrived in London at last, in the early season, with as little

observation as he could desire; and as he was an orphan and had

none but distant relatives who lived in the provinces, it was

almost as a foreigner that he installed himself in the capital of

the country for which he had shed his blood.

On the day following his arrival he dined alone at a military club.

He shook hands with a few old comrades, and received their warm

congratulations; but as one and all had some engagement for the

evening, he found himself left entirely to his own resources. He

was in dress, for he had entertained the notion of visiting a

theatre. But the great city was new to him; he had gone from a

provincial school to a military college, and thence direct to the

Eastern Empire; and he promised himself a variety of delights in

this world for exploration. Swinging his cane, he took his way

westward. It was a mild evening, already dark, and now and then

threatening rain. The succession of faces in the lamplight stirred

the Lieutenant's imagination; and it seemed to him as if he could

walk for ever in that stimulating city atmosphere and surrounded by

the mystery of four million private lives. He glanced at the

houses, and marvelled what was passing behind those warmly-lighted

windows; he looked into face after face, and saw them each intent

upon some unknown interest, criminal or kindly.

"They talk of war," he thought, "but this is the great battlefield

of mankind."

And then he began to wonder that he should walk so long in this

complicated scene, and not chance upon so much as the shadow of an

adventure for himself.

"All in good time," he reflected. "I am still a stranger, and

perhaps wear a strange air. But I must be drawn into the eddy

before long."

The night was already well advanced when a plump of cold rain fell

suddenly out of the darkness. Brackenbury paused under some trees,

and as he did so he caught sight of a hansom cabman making him a

sign that he was disengaged. The circumstance fell in so happily

to the occasion that he at once raised his cane in answer, and had

soon ensconced himself in the London gondola.

"Where to, sir?" asked the driver.

"Where you please," said Brackenbury.

And immediately, at a pace of surprising swiftness, the hansom

drove off through the rain into a maze of villas. One villa was so

like another, each with its front garden, and there was so little

to distinguish the deserted lamp-lit streets and crescents through

which the flying hansom took its way, that Brackenbury soon lost

all idea of direction.

He would have been tempted to believe that the cabman was amusing

himself by driving him round and round and in and out about a small

quarter, but there was something business-like in the speed which

convinced him of the contrary. The man had an object in view, he

was hastening towards a definite end; and Brackenbury was at once

astonished at the fellow's skill in picking a way through such a

labyrinth, and a little concerned to imagine what was the occasion

of his hurry. He had heard tales of strangers falling ill in

London. Did the driver belong to some bloody and treacherous

association? and was he himself being whirled to a murderous death?

The thought had scarcely presented itself, when the cab swung

sharply round a corner and pulled up before the garden gate of a

villa in a long and wide road. The house was brilliantly lighted

up. Another hansom had just driven away, and Brackenbury could see

a gentleman being admitted at the front door and received by

several liveried servants. He was surprised that the cabman should

have stopped so immediately in front of a house where a reception

was being held; but he did not doubt it was the result of accident,

and sat placidly smoking where he was, until he heard the trap

thrown open over his head.

"Here we are, sir," said the driver.

"Here!" repeated Brackenbury. "Where?"

"You told me to take you where I pleased, sir," returned the man

with a chuckle, "and here we are."

It struck Brackenbury that the voice was wonderfully smooth and

courteous for a man in so inferior a position; he remembered the

speed at which he had been driven; and now it occurred to him that

the hansom was more luxuriously appointed than the common run of

public conveyances.

"I must ask you to explain," said he. "Do you mean to turn me out

into the rain? My good man, I suspect the choice is mine."

"The choice is certainly yours," replied the driver; "but when I

tell you all, I believe I know how a gentleman of your figure will

decide. There is a gentlemen's party in this house. I do not know

whether the master be a stranger to London and without

acquaintances of his own; or whether he is a man of odd notions.

But certainly I was hired to kidnap single gentlemen in evening

dress, as many as I pleased, but military officers by preference.

You have simply to go in and say that Mr. Morris invited you."

"Are you Mr. Morris?" inquired the Lieutenant.

"Oh, no," replied the cabman. "Mr. Morris is the person of the

house."

"It is not a common way of collecting guests," said Brackenbury:

"but an eccentric man might very well indulge the whim without any

intention to offend. And suppose that I refuse Mr. Morris's

invitation," he went on, "what then?"

"My orders are to drive you back where I took you from," replied

the man, "and set out to look for others up to midnight. Those who

have no fancy for such an adventure, Mr. Morris said, were not the

guests for him."

These words decided the Lieutenant on the spot.

"After all," he reflected, as he descended from the hansom, "I have

not had long to wait for my adventure."

He had hardly found footing on the side-walk, and was still feeling

in his pocket for the fare, when the cab swung about and drove off

by the way it came at the former break-neck velocity. Brackenbury

shouted after the man, who paid no heed, and continued to drive

away; but the sound of his voice was overheard in the house, the

door was again thrown open, emitting a flood of light upon the

garden, and a servant ran down to meet him holding an umbrella.

"The cabman has been paid," observed the servant in a very civil

tone; and he proceeded to escort Brackenbury along the path and up

the steps. In the hall several other attendants relieved him of

his hat, cane, and paletot, gave him a ticket with a number in

return, and politely hurried him up a stair adorned with tropical

flowers, to the door of an apartment on the first storey. Here a

grave butler inquired his name, and announcing "Lieutenant

Brackenbury Rich," ushered him into the drawing-room of the house.

A young man, slender and singularly handsome, came forward and

greeted him with an air at once courtly and affectionate. Hundreds

of candles, of the finest wax, lit up a room that was perfumed,

like the staircase, with a profusion of rare and beautiful

flowering shrubs. A side-table was loaded with tempting viands.

Several servants went to and fro with fruits and goblets of

champagne. The company was perhaps sixteen in number, all men, few

beyond the prime of life, and with hardly an exception, of a

dashing and capable exterior. They were divided into two groups,

one about a roulette board, and the other surrounding a table at

which one of their number held a bank of baccarat.

"I see," thought Brackenbury, "I am in a private gambling saloon,

and the cabman was a tout."

His eye had embraced the details, and his mind formed the

conclusion, while his host was still holding him by the hand; and

to him his looks returned from this rapid survey. At a second view

Mr. Morris surprised him still more than on the first. The easy

elegance of his manners, the distinction, amiability, and courage

that appeared upon his features, fitted very ill with the

Lieutenant's preconceptions on the subject of the proprietor of a

hell; and the tone of his conversation seemed to mark him out for a

man of position and merit. Brackenbury found he had an instinctive

liking for his entertainer; and though he chid himself for the

weakness, he was unable to resist a sort of friendly attraction for

Mr. Morris's person and character.

"I have heard of you, Lieutenant Rich," said Mr. Morris, lowering

his tone; "and believe me I am gratified to make your acquaintance.

Your looks accord with the reputation that has preceded you from

India. And if you will forget for a while the irregularity of your

presentation in my house, I shall feel it not only an honour, but a

genuine pleasure besides. A man who makes a mouthful of barbarian

cavaliers," he added with a laugh, "should not be appalled by a

breach of etiquette, however serious."

And he led him towards the sideboard and pressed him to partake of

some refreshment.

"Upon my word," the Lieutenant reflected, "this is one of the

pleasantest fellows and, I do not doubt, one of the most agreeable

societies in London."

He partook of some champagne, which he found excellent; and

observing that many of the company were already smoking, he lit one

of his own Manillas, and strolled up to the roulette board, where

he sometimes made a stake and sometimes looked on smilingly on the

fortune of others. It was while he was thus idling that he became

aware of a sharp scrutiny to which the whole of the guests were

subjected. Mr. Morris went here and there, ostensibly busied on

hospitable concerns; but he had ever a shrewd glance at disposal;

not a man of the party escaped his sudden, searching looks; he took

stock of the bearing of heavy losers, he valued the amount of the

stakes, he paused behind couples who were deep in conversation;

and, in a word, there was hardly a characteristic of any one

present but he seemed to catch and make a note of it. Brackenbury

began to wonder if this were indeed a gambling hell: it had so

much the air of a private inquisition. He followed Mr. Morris in

all his movements; and although the man had a ready smile, he

seemed to perceive, as it were under a mask, a haggard, careworn,

and preoccupied spirit. The fellows around him laughed and made

their game; but Brackenbury had lost interest in the guests.

"This Morris," thought he, "is no idler in the room. Some deep

purpose inspires him; let it be mine to fathom it."

Now and then Mr. Morris would call one of his visitors aside; and

after a brief colloquy in an ante-room, he would return alone, and

the visitors in question reappeared no more. After a certain

number of repetitions, this performance excited Brackenbury's

curiosity to a high degree. He determined to be at the bottom of

this minor mystery at once; and strolling into the ante-room, found

a deep window recess concealed by curtains of the fashionable

green. Here he hurriedly ensconced himself; nor had he to wait

long before the sound of steps and voices drew near him from the

principal apartment. Peering through the division, he saw Mr.

Morris escorting a fat and ruddy personage, with somewhat the look

of a commercial traveller, whom Brackenbury had already remarked

for his coarse laugh and under-bred behaviour at the table. The

pair halted immediately before the window, so that Brackenbury lost

not a word of the following discourse:-

"I beg you a thousand pardons!" began Mr. Morris, with the most

conciliatory manner; "and, if I appear rude, I am sure you will

readily forgive me. In a place so great as London accidents must

continually happen; and the best that we can hope is to remedy them

with as small delay as possible. I will not deny that I fear you

have made a mistake and honoured my poor house by inadvertence;

for, to speak openly, I cannot at all remember your appearance.

Let me put the question without unnecessary circumlocution -

between gentlemen of honour a word will suffice - Under whose roof

do you suppose yourself to be?"

"That of Mr. Morris," replied the other, with a prodigious display

of confusion, which had been visibly growing upon him throughout

the last few words.

"Mr. John or Mr. James Morris?" inquired the host.

"I really cannot tell you," returned the unfortunate guest. "I am

not personally acquainted with the gentleman, any more than I am

with yourself."

"I see," said Mr. Morris. "There is another person of the same

name farther down the street; and I have no doubt the policeman

will be able to supply you with his number. Believe me, I

felicitate myself on the misunderstanding which has procured me the

pleasure of your company for so long; and let me express a hope

that we may meet again upon a more regular footing. Meantime, I

would not for the world detain you longer from your friends.

John," he added, raising his voice, "will you see that this

gentleman finds his great-coat?"

And with the most agreeable air Mr. Morris escorted his visitor as

far as the ante-room door, where he left him under conduct of the

butler. As he passed the window, on his return to the drawing-

room, Brackenbury could hear him utter a profound sigh, as though

his mind was loaded with a great anxiety, and his nerves already

fatigued with the task on which he was engaged.

For perhaps an hour the hansoms kept arriving with such frequency,

that Mr. Morris had to receive a new guest for every old one that

he sent away, and the company preserved its number undiminished.

But towards the end of that time the arrivals grew few and far

between, and at length ceased entirely, while the process of

elimination was continued with unimpaired activity. The drawing-

room began to look empty: the baccarat was discontinued for lack

of a banker; more than one person said good-night of his own

accord, and was suffered to depart without expostulation; and in

the meanwhile Mr. Morris redoubled in agreeable attentions to those

who stayed behind. He went from group to group and from person to

person with looks of the readiest sympathy and the most pertinent

and pleasing talk; he was not so much like a host as like a

hostess, and there was a feminine coquetry and condescension in his

manner which charmed the hearts of all.

As the guests grew thinner, Lieutenant Rich strolled for a moment

out of the drawing-room into the hall in quest of fresher air. But

he had no sooner passed the threshold of the ante-chamber than he

was brought to a dead halt by a discovery of the most surprising

nature. The flowering shrubs had disappeared from the staircase;

three large furniture waggons stood before the garden gate; the

servants were busy dismantling the house upon all sides; and some

of them had already donned their great-coats and were preparing to

depart. It was like the end of a country ball, where everything

has been supplied by contract. Brackenbury had indeed some matter

for reflection. First, the guests, who were no real guests after

all, had been dismissed; and now the servants, who could hardly be

genuine servants, were actively dispersing.

'"Was the whole establishment a sham?" he asked himself. "The

mushroom of a single night which should disappear before morning?"

Watching a favourable opportunity, Brackenbury dashed upstairs to

the highest regions of the house. It was as he had expected. He

ran from room to room, and saw not a stick of furniture nor so much

as a picture on the walls. Although the house had been painted and

papered, it was not only uninhabited at present, but plainly had

never been inhabited at all. The young officer remembered with

astonishment its specious, settled, and hospitable air on his

arrival

It was only at a prodigious cost that the imposture could have been

carried out upon so great a scale.

Who, then, was Mr. Morris? What was his intention in thus playing

the householder for a single night in the remote west of London?

And why did he collect his visitors at hazard from the streets?

Brackenbury remembered that he had already delayed too long, and

hastened to join the company. Many had left during his absence;

and counting the Lieutenant and his host, there were not more than

five persons in the drawing-room - recently so thronged. Mr.

Morris greeted him, as he re-entered the apartment, with a smile,

and immediately rose to his feet.

"It is now time, gentlemen," said he, "to explain my purpose in

decoying you from your amusements. I trust you did not find the

evening hang very dully on your hands; but my object, I will

confess it, was not to entertain your leisure, but to help myself

in an unfortunate necessity. You are all gentlemen," he continued,

"your appearance does you that much justice, and I ask for no

better security. Hence, I speak it without concealment, I ask you

to render me a dangerous and delicate service; dangerous because

you may run the hazard of your lives, and delicate because I must

ask an absolute discretion upon all that you shall see or hear.

From an utter stranger the request is almost comically extravagant;

I am well aware of this; and I would add at once, if there be any

one present who has heard enough, if there be one among the party

who recoils from a dangerous confidence and a piece of Quixotic

devotion to he knows not whom - here is my hand ready, and I shall

wish him good-night and God-speed with all the sincerity in the

world."

A very tall, black man, with a heavy stoop, immediately responded

to this appeal.

"I commend your frankness, Sir," said he; "and, for my part, I go.

I make no reflections; but I cannot deny that you fill me with

suspicious thoughts. I go myself, as I say; and perhaps you will

think I have no right to add words to my example."

"On the contrary," replied Mr. Morris, "I am obliged to you for all

you say. It would be impossible to exaggerate the gravity of my

proposal."

"Well, gentlemen, what do you say?" said the tall man, addressing

the others. "We have had our evening's frolic; shall we all go

homeward peaceably in a body? You will think well of my suggestion

in the morning, when you see the sun again in innocence and

safety."

The speaker pronounced the last words with an intonation which

added to their force; and his face wore a singular expression, full

of gravity and significance. Another of the company rose hastily,

and, with some appearance of alarm, prepared to take his leave.

There were only two who held their ground, Brackenbury and an old

red-nosed cavalry Major; but these two preserved a nonchalant

demeanour, and, beyond a look of intelligence which they rapidly

exchanged, appeared entirely foreign to the discussion that had

just been terminated.

Mr. Morris conducted the deserters as far as the door, which he

closed upon their heels; then he turned round, disclosing a

countenance of mingled relief and animation, and addressed the two

officers as follows.

"I have chosen my men like Joshua in the Bible," said Mr. Morris,

"and I now believe I have the pick of London. Your appearance

pleased my hansom cabmen; then it delighted me; I have watched your

behaviour in a strange company, and under the most unusual

circumstances: I have studied how you played and how you bore your

losses; lastly, I have put you to the test of a staggering

announcement, and you received it like an invitation to dinner. It

is not for nothing," he cried, "that I have been for years the

companion and the pupil of the bravest and wisest potentate in

Europe."

"At the affair of Bunderchang," observed the Major, "I asked for

twelve volunteers, and every trooper in the ranks replied to my

appeal. But a gaming party is not the same thing as a regiment

under fire. You may be pleased, I suppose, to have found two, and

two who will not fail you at a push. As for the pair who ran away,

I count them among the most pitiful hounds I ever met with.

Lieutenant Rich," he added, addressing Brackenbury, "I have heard

much of you of late; and I cannot doubt but you have also heard of

me. I am Major O'Rooke."

And the veteran tendered his hand, which was red and tremulous, to

the young Lieutenant.

"Who has not?" answered Brackenbury.

"When this little matter is settled," said Mr. Morris, "you will

think I have sufficiently rewarded you; for I could offer neither a

more valuable service than to make him acquainted with the other."

"And now," said Major O'Rooke, "is it a duel?"

"A duel after a fashion," replied Mr. Morris, "a duel with unknown

and dangerous enemies, and, as I gravely fear, a duel to the death.

I must ask you," he continued, "to call me Morris no longer; call

me, if you please, Hammersmith; my real name, as well as that of

another person to whom I hope to present you before long, you will

gratify me by not asking and not seeking to discover for

yourselves. Three days ago the person of whom I speak disappeared

suddenly from home; and, until this morning, I received no hint of

his situation. You will fancy my alarm when I tell you that he is

engaged upon a work of private justice. Bound by an unhappy oath,

too lightly sworn, he finds it necessary, without the help of law,

to rid the earth of an insidious and bloody villain. Already two

of our friends, and one of them my own born brother, have perished

in the enterprise. He himself, or I am much deceived, is taken in

the same fatal toils. But at least he still lives and still hopes,

as this billet sufficiently proves."

And the speaker, no other than Colonel Geraldine, proffered a

letter, thus conceived:-

"Major Hammersmith, - On Wednesday, at 3 A.M., you will be admitted

by the small door to the gardens of Rochester House, Regent's Park,

by a man who is entirely in my interest. I must request you not to

fail me by a second. Pray bring my case of swords, and, if you can

find them, one or two gentlemen of conduct and discretion to whom

my person is unknown. My name must not be used in this affair.

T. GODALL."

"From his wisdom alone, if he had no other title," pursued Colonel

Geraldine, when the others had each satisfied his curiosity, "my

friend is a man whose directions should implicitly be followed. I

need not tell you, therefore, that I have not so much as visited

the neighbourhood of Rochester House; and that I am still as wholly

in the dark as either of yourselves as to the nature of my friend's

dilemma. I betook myself, as soon as I had received this order, to

a furnishing contractor, and, in a few hours, the house in which we

now are had assumed its late air of festival. My scheme was at

least original; and I am far from regretting an action which has

procured me the services of Major O'Rooke and Lieutenant

Brackenbury Rich. But the servants in the street will have a

strange awakening. The house which this evening was full of lights

and visitors they will find uninhabited and for sale to-morrow

morning. Thus even the most serious concerns," added the Colonel,

"have a merry side."

"And let us add a merry ending," said Brackenbury.

The Colonel consulted his watch.

"It is now hard on two," he said. "We have an hour before us, and

a swift cab is at the door. Tell me if I may count upon your

help."

"During a long life," replied Major O'Rooke, "I never took back my

hand from anything, nor so much as hedged a bet."

Brackenbury signified his readiness in the most becoming terms; and

after they had drunk a glass or two of wine, the Colonel gave each

of them a loaded revolver, and the three mounted into the cab and

drove off for the address in question.

Rochester House was a magnificent residence on the banks of the

canal. The large extent of the garden isolated it in an unusual

degree from the annoyances of neighbourhood. It seemed the PARC

AUX CERFS of some great nobleman or millionaire. As far as could

be seen from the street, there was not a glimmer of light in any of

the numerous windows of the mansion; and the place had a look of

neglect, as though the master had been long from home.

The cab was discharged, and the three gentlemen were not long in

discovering the small door, which was a sort of postern in a lane

between two garden walls. It still wanted ten or fifteen minutes

of the appointed time; the rain fell heavily, and the adventurers

sheltered themselves below some pendant ivy, and spoke in low tones

of the approaching trial.

Suddenly Geraldine raised his finger to command silence, and all

three bent their hearing to the utmost. Through the continuous

noise of the rain, the steps and voices of two men became audible

from the other side of the wall; and, as they drew nearer,

Brackenbury, whose sense of hearing was remarkably acute, could

even distinguish some fragments of their talk.

"Is the grave dug?" asked one.

"It is," replied the other; "behind the laurel hedge. When the job

is done, we can cover it with a pile of stakes."

The first speaker laughed, and the sound of his merriment was

shocking to the listeners on the other side.

"In an hour from now," he said.

And by the sound of the steps it was obvious that the pair had

separated, and were proceeding in contrary directions.

Almost immediately after the postern door was cautiously opened, a

white face was protruded into the lane, and a hand was seen

beckoning to the watchers. In dead silence the three passed the

door, which was immediately locked behind them, and followed their

guide through several garden alleys to the kitchen entrance of the

house. A single candle burned in the great paved kitchen, which

was destitute of the customary furniture; and as the party

proceeded to ascend from thence by a flight of winding stairs, a

prodigious noise of rats testified still more plainly to the

dilapidation of the house.

Their conductor preceded them, carrying the candle. He was a lean

man, much bent, but still agile; and he turned from time to time

and admonished silence and caution by his gestures. Colonel

Geraldine followed on his heels, the case of swords under one arm,

and a pistol ready in the other. Brackenbury's heart beat thickly.

He perceived that they were still in time; but he judged from the

alacrity of the old man that the hour of action must be near at

hand; and the circumstances of this adventure were so obscure and

menacing, the place seemed so well chosen for the darkest acts,

that an older man than Brackenbury might have been pardoned a

measure of emotion as he closed the procession up the winding

stair.

At the top the guide threw open a door and ushered the three

officers before him into a small apartment, lighted by a smoky lamp

and the glow of a modest fire. At the chimney corner sat a man in

the early prime of life, and of a stout but courtly and commanding

appearance. His attitude and expression were those of the most

unmoved composure; he was smoking a cheroot with much enjoyment and

deliberation, and on a table by his elbow stood a long glass of

some effervescing beverage which diffused an agreeable odour

through the room.

"Welcome," said he, extending his hand to Colonel Geraldine. "I

knew I might count on your exactitude."

"On my devotion," replied the Colonel, with a bow.

"Present me to your friends," continued the first; and, when that

ceremony had been performed, "I wish, gentlemen," he added, with

the most exquisite affability, "that I could offer you a more

cheerful programme; it is ungracious to inaugurate an acquaintance

upon serious affairs; but the compulsion of events is stronger than

the obligations of good-fellowship. I hope and believe you will be

able to forgive me this unpleasant evening; and for men of your

stamp it will be enough to know that you are conferring a

considerable favour."

"Your Highness," said the Major, "must pardon my bluntness. I am

unable to hide what I know. For some time back I have suspected

Major Hammersmith, but Mr. Godall is unmistakable. To seek two men

in London unacquainted with Prince Florizel of Bohemia was to ask

too much at Fortune's hands."

"Prince Florizel!" cried Brackenbury in amazement.

And he gazed with the deepest interest on the features of the

celebrated personage before him.

"I shall not lament the loss of my incognito," remarked the Prince,

"for it enables me to thank you with the more authority. You would

have done as much for Mr. Godall, I feel sure, as for the Prince of

Bohemia; but the latter can perhaps do more for you. The gain is

mine," he added, with a courteous gesture.

And the next moment he was conversing with the two officers about

the Indian army and the native troops, a subject on which, as on

all others, he had a remarkable fund of information and the

soundest views.

There was something so striking in this man's attitude at a moment

of deadly peril that Brackenbury was overcome with respectful

admiration; nor was he less sensible to the charm of his

conversation or the surprising amenity of his address. Every

gesture, every intonation, was not only noble in itself, but seemed

to ennoble the fortunate mortal for whom it was intended; and

Brackenbury confessed to himself with enthusiasm that this was a

sovereign for whom a brave man might thankfully lay down his life.

Many minutes had thus passed, when the person who had introduced

them into the house, and who had sat ever since in a corner, and

with his watch in his hand, arose and whispered a word into the

Prince's ear.

"It is well, Dr. Noel," replied Florizel, aloud; and then

addressing the others, "You will excuse me, gentlemen," he added,

"if I have to leave you in the dark. The moment now approaches."

Dr. Noel extinguished the lamp. A faint, grey light, premonitory

of the dawn, illuminated the window, but was not sufficient to

illuminate the room; and when the Prince rose to his feet, it was

impossible to distinguish his features or to make a guess at the

nature of the emotion which obviously affected him as he spoke. He

moved towards the door, and placed himself at one side of it in an

attitude of the wariest attention.

"You will have the kindness," he said, "to maintain the strictest

silence, and to conceal yourselves in the densest of the shadow."

The three officers and the physician hastened to obey, and for

nearly ten minutes the only sound in Rochester House was occasioned

by the excursions of the rats behind the woodwork. At the end of

that period, a loud creak of a hinge broke in with surprising

distinctness on the silence; and shortly after, the watchers could

distinguish a slow and cautious tread approaching up the kitchen

stair. At every second step the intruder seemed to pause and lend

an ear, and during these intervals, which seemed of an incalculable

duration, a profound disquiet possessed the spirit of the

listeners. Dr. Noel, accustomed as he was to dangerous emotions,

suffered an almost pitiful physical prostration; his breath

whistled in his lungs, his teeth grated one upon another, and his

joints cracked aloud as he nervously shifted his position.

At last a hand was laid upon the door, and the bolt shot back with

a slight report. There followed another pause, during which

Brackenbury could see the Prince draw himself together noiselessly

as if for some unusual exertion. Then the door opened, letting in

a little more of the light of the morning; and the figure of a man

appeared upon the threshold and stood motionless. He was tall, and

carried a knife in his hand. Even in the twilight they could see

his upper teeth bare and glistening, for his mouth was open like

that of a hound about to leap. The man had evidently been over the

head in water but a minute or two before; and even while he stood

there the drops kept falling from his wet clothes and pattered on

the floor.

The next moment he crossed the threshold. There was a leap, a

stifled cry, an instantaneous struggle; and before Colonel

Geraldine could spring to his aid, the Prince held the man disarmed

and helpless, by the shoulders

"Dr. Noel," he said, "you will be so good as to re-light the lamp."

And relinquishing the charge of his prisoner to Geraldine and

Brackenbury, he crossed the room and set his back against the

chimney-piece. As soon as the lamp had kindled, the party beheld

an unaccustomed sternness on the Prince's features. It was no

longer Florizel, the careless gentleman; it was the Prince of

Bohemia, justly incensed and full of deadly purpose, who now raised

his head and addressed the captive President of the Suicide Club.

"President," he said, "you have laid your last snare, and your own

feet are taken in it. The day is beginning; it is your last

morning. You have just swum the Regent's Canal; it is your last

bathe in this world. Your old accomplice, Dr. Noel, so far from

betraying me, has delivered you into my hands for judgment. And

the grave you had dug for me this afternoon shall serve, in God's

almighty providence, to hide your own just doom from the curiosity

of mankind. Kneel and pray, sir, if you have a mind that way; for

your time is short, and God is weary of your iniquities."

The President made no answer either by word or sign; but continued

to hang his head and gaze sullenly on the floor, as though he were

conscious of the Prince's prolonged and unsparing regard.

"Gentlemen," continued Florizel, resuming the ordinary tone of his

conversation, "this is a fellow who has long eluded me, but whom,

thanks to Dr. Noel, I now have tightly by the heels. To tell the

story of his misdeeds would occupy more time than we can now

afford; but if the canal had contained nothing but the blood of his

victims, I believe the wretch would have been no drier than you see

him. Even in an affair of this sort I desire to preserve the forms

of honour. But I make you the judges, gentlemen - this is more an

execution than a duel and to give the rogue his choice of weapons

would be to push too far a point of etiquette. I cannot afford to

lose my life in such a business," he continued, unlocking the case

of swords; "and as a pistol-bullet travels so often on the wings of

chance, and skill and courage may fall by the most trembling

marksman, I have decided, and I feel sure you will approve my

determination, to put this question to the touch of swords."

When Brackenbury and Major O'Rooke, to whom these remarks were

particularly addressed, had each intimated his approval, "Quick,

sir," added Prince Florizel to the President, "choose a blade and

do not keep me waiting; I have an impatience to be done with you

for ever."

For the first time since he was captured and disarmed the President

raised his head, and it was plain that he began instantly to pluck

up courage.

"Is it to be stand up?" he asked eagerly, "and between you and me?"

"I mean so far to honour you," replied the Prince.

"Oh, come!" cried the President. "With a fair field, who knows how

things may happen? I must add that I consider it handsome

behaviour on your Highness's part; and if the worst comes to the

worst I shall die by one of the most gallant gentlemen in Europe."

And the President, liberated by those who had detained him, stepped

up to the table and began, with minute attention, to select a

sword. He was highly elated, and seemed to feel no doubt that he

should issue victorious from the contest. The spectators grew

alarmed in the face of so entire a confidence, and adjured Prince

Florizel to reconsider his intention.

"It is but a farce," he answered; "and I think I can promise you,

gentlemen, that it will not be long a-playing."

"Your Highness will be careful not to over-reach," said Colonel

Geraldine.

"Geraldine," returned the Prince, "did you ever know me fail in a

debt of honour? I owe you this man's death, and you shall have

it."

The President at last satisfied himself with one of the rapiers,

and signified his readiness by a gesture that was not devoid of a

rude nobility. The nearness of peril, and the sense of courage,

even to this obnoxious villain, lent an air of manhood and a

certain grace.

The Prince helped himself at random to a sword.

"Colonel Geraldine and Doctor Noel," he said, "will have the

goodness to await me in this room. I wish no personal friend of

mine to be involved in this transaction. Major O'Rooke, you are a

man of some years and a settled reputation - let me recommend the

President to your good graces. Lieutenant Rich will be so good as

lend me his attentions: a young man cannot have too much

experience in such affairs."

"Your Highness," replied Brackenbury, "it is an honour I shall

prize extremely."

"It is well," returned Prince Florizel; "I shall hope to stand your

friend in more important circumstances."

And so saying he led the way out of the apartment and down the

kitchen stairs.

The two men who were thus left alone threw open the window and

leaned out, straining every sense to catch an indication of the

tragical events that were about to follow. The rain was now over;

day had almost come, and the birds were piping in the shrubbery and

on the forest trees of the garden. The Prince and his companions

were visible for a moment as they followed an alley between two

flowering thickets; but at the first corner a clump of foliage

intervened, and they were again concealed from view. This was all

that the Colonel and the Physician had an opportunity to see, and

the garden was so vast, and the place of combat evidently so remote

from the house, that not even the noise of sword-play reached their

ears.

"He has taken him towards the grave," said Dr. Noel, with a

shudder.

"God," cried the Colonel, "God defend the right!"

And they awaited the event in silence, the Doctor shaking with

fear, the Colonel in an agony of sweat. Many minutes must have

elapsed, the day was sensibly broader, and the birds were singing

more heartily in the garden before a sound of returning footsteps

recalled their glances towards the door. It was the Prince and the

two Indian officers who entered. God had defended the right.

"I am ashamed of my emotion," said Prince Florizel; "I feel it is a

weakness unworthy of my station, but the continued existence of

that hound of hell had begun to prey upon me like a disease, and

his death has more refreshed me than a night of slumber. Look,

Geraldine," he continued, throwing his sword upon the floor, "there

is the blood of the man who killed your brother. It should be a

welcome sight. And yet," he added, "see how strangely we men are

made! my revenge is not yet five minutes old, and already I am

beginning to ask myself if even revenge be attainable on this

precarious stage of life. The ill he did, who can undo it? The

career in which he amassed a huge fortune (for the house itself in

which we stand belonged to him) - that career is now a part of the

destiny of mankind for ever; and I might weary myself making

thrusts in carte until the crack of judgment, and Geraldine's

brother would be none the less dead, and a thousand other innocent

persons would be none the less dishonoured and debauched! The

existence of a man is so small a thing to take, so mighty a thing

to employ! Alas!" he cried, "is there anything in life so

disenchanting as attainment?"

"God's justice has been done," replied the Doctor. "So much I

behold. The lesson, your Highness, has been a cruel one for me;

and I await my own turn with deadly apprehension."

"What was I saying?" cried the Prince. "I have punished, and here

is the man beside us who can help me to undo. Ah, Dr. Noel! you

and I have before us many a day of hard and honourable toil; and

perhaps, before we have none, you may have more than redeemed your

early errors."

"And in the meantime," said the Doctor, "let me go and bury my

oldest friend."

(And this, observes the erudite Arabian, is the fortunate

conclusion of the tale. The Prince, it is superfluous to mention,

forgot none of those who served him in this great exploit; and to

this day his authority and influence help them forward in their

public career, while his condescending friendship adds a charm to

their private life. To collect, continues my author, all the

strange events in which this Prince has played the part of

Providence were to fill the habitable globe with books. But the

stories which relate to the fortunes of THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND are of

too entertaining a description, says he, to be omitted. Following

prudently in the footsteps of this Oriental, we shall now begin the

series to which he refers with the STORY OF THE BANDBOX.)