"THUS CONSCIENCE DOTH MAKE COWARDS OF US ALL." At his unexpected discovery Charles sprang to his feet, and at first seemed as though about to draw back to wards the door of the room. Immediately, though, he regained his presence of mind, and seizing the lamp from the table, he boldly stepped forward towards the secret entrance, to ascertain whither it might lead. Holding the light within, he discovered a large recess leading to a flight of winding steps, which, from their sombre and dust-covered appearance, seemed as though they had remained unused for generations. He bent down his head, and entering the recess, he began to descend the steps, holding the lamp as high as possible, and peering keenly forward into the utter darkness, in which the rays of the light seemed entirely lost. All trace of emotion had fled from his face, and he firmly descended, pausing upon each step to listen for any sound, and ever and anon carefully scanning the wall that surrounded him. For some time he continued thus to advance, and seeing nothing but the narrow stone steps winding round a wall of solid masonry, black with age, and covered here and there with cobwebs. Presently, however, as he reached the lower storey of the house, he began to perceive a sensation of damp, and the wall grew gradually moister, while spots of green moss and many-coloured fungi appeared, while the steps became cold and slippery. Then, too, he suddenly descried a glimmering of light immediately below him, and paused in hesitation whether to proceed or not; but hearing not the slightest sound, he cautiously continued his descent for a few steps, until he found himself at the foot of the staircase in front of a massive oaken door, strengthened with bars of iron, as though forbidding all further progress, and faintly illuminated by a ray of moonlight which shone in through a narrow loophole in the wall. On pressing against this door, however, Charles felt it move; and continuing the pressure, it swung suddenly backward against the wall behind, with a loud clang that echoed like thunder through the darkness that its opening revealed. Before, too, the reverberations had ceased, Charles felt sure he heard the sound of footsteps receding in the distance. The clergyman's mind was cast in too firm a mould to be easily terrified; and though at that midnight hour, in that mysterious abode of gloom, and among those weird shadows which had of late so darkened his life, he might have well excused himself from further investigation; yet he flung aside all thought of retreat, and remained boldly on the threshold of the doorway, endeavouring to see what manner of place he had now reached. He could discern but little; and as far as he made out, he seemed to be looking into a lofty vault, the sides and roof of which were wholly in structure. visible, and in the centre of which was dimly discernible the outlines of a huge column supporting the superTwo steps led down to the floor of this vault, and descending there, Charles stepped forward towards the opposite side of the chamber, whence had seemed to proceed the footsteps he had heard. A low arched passage here appeared, built of huge rough stones, and as the flickering lamplight fell upon the sides of the opening, some terrible overwhelming thought seemed to rush across the clergyman's brain, for he stopped abruptly and while his face grew pale as the mists of midnight, and large drops of sweat started out from his brow, he glanced around him hurriedly from side to side with an expression of startled horror, as though recognising some fearful spectacle. For a few moments he remained breathless; and then, with a convulsive grasp he ejaculated, in a husky voice 66 Surely my senses mock me! And yet how like-how like!God !" This latter exclamation was caused by his hearing a muffled sound at the extremity of the passage; and as he bent forward eagerly to listen, a stern voice issued forth from the depths, exclaiming, in accents that resounded hollowly through the archway "Murderer, begone!" The lamp fell from Charles's hand, and struck the floor with a clatter made more hideous and appalling by the light being at once extinguished. Frenzied with fear, the clergyman clasped his hands tightly to his ears, as though to shut out the tremendous greeting he had just heard, and rushed madly back towards the door through which he had entered the vault. Fortunately making straight to the place in spite of the darkness, he sprang up the steps, and ascending the staircase at his utmost speed, he scarce knew how he regained the precincts of his study before he durst pause. Even then he stayed not, but hurriedly wheeling the statue back into its place, he rushed from the room, closing and locking the door behind him. Littlemore's chamber was situated at the other side of the house, and on a lower floor, and thither Charles proceeded. He abruptly entered, and found his friend, who had not yet retired to rest, sitting in front of the fire, musing deeply. Littlemore looked up in surprise at this unexpected visit; but his surprise was vastly increased when he observed Charles's agitated frame, the pallor of his countenance, and the wild expression of terror in his glance. "Good heavens, Charlie! what's the matter?" he asked. Can I be mad?" was the reply, as Charles seized Littlemore's arm tightly, as though to assure himself he was in human company. "You look very much like it, old fellow," returned the barrister-" but come, tell me what has happened. Quick! I may be of use." "No! No use! No use now!" said Charles, in a hoarse voice, and, as it were, through his friend, at something in the distance. Littlemore was startled, but shaking the clergyman's shoulder he said Recover your senses, man! See, sit down here, and tell me what has startled you!" Charles sat down in the chair which Littlemore offered him, and then passing his hand across his forehead, he seemed gradually to brace up his energies; whereupon his friend poured out a glass of some cordial that stood on a side table, and made him swallow it. "Tom," said he, after remaining silent for a minute, "what Millow said is true!" "Eh! What the deuce do you mean?" replied Littlemore, fairly bewildered. "There's something here more "Tut, tut, man! Your're upset by what occurred at dinner. But what matters it? everybody will think your father mad." "It's what has occurred since that which troubles me, Tom !" rejoined the clergyman, in solemn and almost despairing accents. "Tell me, then, what it is, and let me assist you!" Charles rose to his feet, and laying his hand on Littlemore's arm, he looked steadfastly into his eyes, and said, in a whisper that thrilled strangely through his hearer"Tom, I have seen-nay, that I could not have borne. -I have heard-" Here he paused a few -seconds, and then suddenly adding -"the Dead !" he buried his face in his hands. Littlemore started and glanced sharply and quickly at his friend for a moment, as though to satisfy some doubt that had flashed across his mind. Almost immediately, however, an incredulous smile flitted over his features, and he said to himself, in abrupt, low tones "Pooh! Nonsense! the young fellow's sound enough on that score, I warrant!" Then, addressing Charles he added "I can't for the life of me understand you!" "Accompany me to my room, Tom, if you please," was the only reply; and Charles at once quitted the chamber, and proceeded to his own bedroom, without saying a word more. Littlemore shrugged his shoulders, and did as he had been requested; then bidding Charles "Good-night,' he returned to his fireside, and, full of strange fancies, retired to rest. CHAPTER XI. RUE AND JASMINE. CLARA had risen betimes, and was slowly pacing the garden walks, breathing the soft fragrance of the early morning, and listening to the musical matins of the sylvan choir. The golden glories of the eastern sky had barely given place to the still brighter effulgence of the fullorbed sun; the flowers were busily -shaking off the last sparkling gems with which the zephyrs of the night had decked them; the fast-ripening fruits upon the trees were coyly hanging down their heads and blushing, as they encountered the ardent glances of the King of the Day; and here and there, peeping playfully through the trees, danced the merry wavelets of the brook. The lovely autumn morning was evidently a determined wooer of beauty and hap piness. A little bouquet was placed in the bosom of Clara's dress. It had been given her on the previous evening, and the flowers were drooping. Perhaps they were sad at the thought of dying, when all was so beautiful around them. Perhaps they were merely bending down to listen to the tuneful throbbing of the gentle heart on whose soft threshold they reposed. What music did that heart discourse! Sweet melodies of olden days mingled, at times, with wild, discordant strains of later birth. Exquisitely pathetic snatches of sorrow-laden harmonies rose and fell amidst the solemn chords of the heaven-born souls' refrain. Now majestic, now fitful and irregular, now supremely soft, now impetuous as the storm-swayed wave, well might those sounds subdue all who listened! Tears were in Clara's eyes as she paused by a sundial that stood at the edge of the lawn skirting the brook. And yet her cheeks were flushed, and she impatiently tapped the stone upon which her arm rested, as though she were vexed that her thoughts should lead to sadness. Presently she took the bouquet from her bosom and gazed fixedly upon it for a while; and then slowly holding up her hand, after a moment's hesitation, she, as it were, reluctantly unclosed her fingers and allowed the flowers to fall to the ground. "Clara!" said a low, soft voice behind her. With a cry of affright she turned round, and found herself face to face with Mr. Littlemore. They looked at each other for a moment, and then Clara's eyes sank, while her face became suffused with blushes, and her hands toyed timidly with her dress. Littlemore noticed her agitation, and smiled in a peculiar manner, as, with the slightest shrug of the shoulders, he took one of her hands, and said almost in a whisper, "Look !" Clara glanced up, and saw that he was pointing at the bouquet that lay on the ground. Again the colour came and went in her cheeks, but she replied very quietly and calmly, "Well ?" "Why have you thrown those harmless flowers from you?" "I was not sure that they were harmless." It was now Littlemore's turn to look up at Clara. She was speaking with her face a little averted, but he could see, from her tightly compressed lips, from the rapid rising and falling of her bosom, and by the nervous trembling of her hand, that she was painfully agitated. "But I gave them to you," he said, sadly. Still was her face averted, and she nothing answered. "May I replace them ?"-he leant forward and whispered this softly in her ear, so close that his breath played upon her neck. Clara trembled very much and half turned towards him; but as he stooped to pick up the bouquet, she with a sudden gesture raised her head proudly, and placed her foot upon the flowers. "Stay, Mr. Littlemore," she said, in a voice which she strove to render firm. "Why do you ask me this ?" "I am sorry you should have crushed those unoffending flowers," was Littlemore's only reply. "They offended me," said Clara. "How so?" "They were dying." "A little care might have preserved them for some time longer." A passing flash in Clara's eye was the only indication she gave of having heard this remark. Did you not care to preserve them?" continued Littlemorej "They were your companions last night, when you looked supremely beautiful. Is it not natural that I should wish them to see your loveliness this morning?" It had never come within the bounds of Clara's nature to resist a compliment. She was still unable to analyse her feelings, and to know whether to be vexed or pleased at Littlemore's addresses; but when he so flatteringly alluded to her beauty, she found him a decidedly agreeable man. "You hardly speak as you think, Mr. Littlemore," she replied, blushing. 66 I am afraid you will not allow me to do so," rejoined he. "On the contrary. Candour is delightful." "Well, then, let me tell you what I think of you," said he, again taking her hand: "I think you deserve to be happy, because I feel sure you would promote the happiness of another if such were in your power. But your eyes are suffused with tears, and you gently shake your head as though such could not be the case. Now, my happiness is in your hands. Will you promote that ? Clara faintly whispered something which sounded like, "How can I do so?" "By letting me promote yours; by letting me take both your hands; by letting my arm support youthus; by letting me say I love you!" As Mr. Littlemore said all this in the most gentle yet fervent tones at his command, he gradually suited the action to the word, and as he concluded, he pressed Clara fondly to his heart, and imprinted a passionate kiss upon her lips. For a minute or two Clara's head rested on Littlemore's shoulder, and during that time the autumn morning wooed not in vain. Then she slowly looked up into his eyes, softly and tenderly, and said, with a world of music sweetening the accents of her voice, "You won't leave me, will you?" The broadside of a seventy-four would not have taken Mr. Littlemore more aback. He started from Clara's side, turned scarlet to the roots of his hair, looked everywhere except straight before him, and for the first time in his life felt thoroughly nonplussed. This, however, lasted but a moment, and then regaining his self-possession as rapidly as he had lost it, he seized Clara's hands and looked full into her amazed face. A single glance was sufficient to show him that whatever made her say what she had done, she had no suspicion of his dealings with Elsie; and feeling re-assured on that score, he exclaimed in tones, the surprise and frankness of which might by a cynic have been thought somewhat forced, "Leave you, Clara ? Never while I have breath to repeat the tale of my love," saying which he again clasped her to his breast, and again showered a soft rain of kisses on the roses of her lips and cheeks. But the spell had been broken. The transient glamour which had effaced from Clara's heart the memory of the past, had vanished, and though, poor girl, she knew nought of her present lover's inconstancy, yet she felt that something other than love had underlain the agitation aroused by her remark. Littlemore, too, felt embarrassed, and considered it prudent to create a diversion. "Breakfast will be ready, Clara," he said; "let us go in, for I wish to communicate to your brother the tidings of my happiness." They accordingly proceeded towards the Hall, and as they approached they descried Charles pacing up and down the terrace. Clara at once went in-doors, and Littlemore approached Charles, who as soon as he saw him seemed to be come a little less moody. "Charlie," said the barrister, "I have some news for you." "For Heaven's sake, no more stories of the other world!" exclaimed Charles. "I'm sorry to see you still so occupied with what I suppose was your nightmare last night.' " "Tom, I leave this house at once," said the clergyman, slowly and gravely, with his face paler even than of late. "I shall accept the Canonry at Leighbury, and reside there. I am a little perplexed, though, as to Clara, and my father and mother." "The very point about which I wished to speak to you," returned Littlemore. "You need be under no uneasiness as regards Clara : we are engaged. I have proposed to her this morning, and she has accepted me." "I am heartily glad to hear of it," said Charles. Littlemore took his friend's arm, and with an unusual gravity in his manner, he said, "Just walk along the terrace with me, Charlie; I want you to do me a service. You know Elsie Dawes. Well, it was I who ran off with her. Nay, don't start-hear me out. I say, I ran off with her; but she fell |