Tales of the Wonder Club, Volume II

  TALES OF THE WONDER CLUB.

  by

  DRYASDUST.

  VOL. II.

  [Decoration]

  Illustrated by John Jellicoe and Val Prince,After Designs by the Author.

  Harrison & Sons, 59, Pall Mall.Booksellers to the Queen and H.R.H. the Prince of Wales.

  All rights reserved.

  London:Printed By A. Hudson and Co.,160 Wandsworth Road, S.W.

  CONTENTS Page CHAPTER I. 5 Buried Alive.--The Landlord's Story.

  CHAPTER II. 61 Der Scharfrichter.--The Artist's Second Story.

  CHAPTER III. 154 The Three Pauls.--The Artist's Third Story.

  CHAPTER IV. 238 The Waxen Image.--The Hostess's Story.

  CHAPTER V. 322 In which occurs Mr. Parnassus' Ballad--The Chieftain's Destiny.

  CHAPTER VI. 338 A Tale of the French Revolution.--The Barber's Story.

  LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

  PAGE

  ARTIST AND MODEL _Frontispiece_

  PERSIAN GULF _Title Page_

  BURIED ALIVE 5

  EXECUTION 61

  THE THREE PAULS 154

  THE WAXEN IMAGE 238

  CHIEFTAIN'S DESTINY 322

  THE BASTILLE 338

  CHAPTER I.

  BURIED ALIVE.--THE LANDLORD'S STORY.

  "Bravo, Oldstone! A very capital story!" cried several members at once."It is a pity our host isn't here to have heard it."

  "I heard a good part of it, though, gentlemen," said a voice from a darkcorner of the room (for the lights had been extinguished, though it wasstill murky without).

  "What, are you there, Jack?" cried Mr. Crucible. "We none of us sawyou."

  "Well, sir," said the landlord, "finding that I was not wanted outsideas I thought, I ventured to enter the room quietly, so as not to disturbthe story."

  "Well done, Jack," said Hardcase, "and so you heard all, eh? Well, whatdo you think of it?"

  "Pretty nearly all, I guess, sir," replied the landlord, "and a curiousone it is, too, and no mistake. But talk of being buried alive, I couldtell you a queer adventure that happened to myself, if you gentlemenwould care to hear it."

  "Only be too glad, Jack," said Oldstone. "Out with it; there is nothinglike a good story to beguile the time in weather like this."

  Our host, thus encouraged, drew his chair close to the fire, and hisexample was immediately followed by his guests. Then, refilling his yardof clay and lighting it in the fire, he gave one or two preliminarywhiffs, and commenced his story thus:--

  Well, gentlemen, when I was a youngster, that is to say, a lad ofnineteen, I fell deeply in love with my Molly, who, though I say it, wasthe finest lass in the village and for miles round it. For all the worldlike my Helen, at her age, bless her dear heart! She was the daughter ofa rich miller--his only child. Well, it had been a long attachment, forMolly and I were play-mates when we was little, but when I grew to beabout nineteen, and my father began to see that I was head over ears inlove with Molly, he forbade me to see any more of her, because he andold Sykes--leastways, Molly's father, the miller--wasn't friends, d'yesee.

  Nevertheless, Molly and I used to get a peep at each other on the slylike, and often took long walks together when no one was near.

  Well, old Sykes also objected to me keeping company with his daughter,and sometimes suspecting what was up, used to lie in wait for us, andcatch us in the lane as we was coming home from our walk. Then he'd giveus both a "blowing up," for old Sykes wasn't partickler nice in hislanguage, and Molly was locked up in her room while he went to complainof me to my father. This sort of thing occurred more than once, andSykes, not knowing how to put a stop to it in any other way, sent hisdaughter on a visit to an aunt of hers some distance off.

  I didn't know nothing of this for some time, and still went hoveringround the house, expecting to see Molly at the window. Now, therehappened to be at that time an epidemic running through the village, asproved fatal to many, carrying off both the young and the old, and whenmy father saw how pulled down I was in health and spirits, which was allalong of my not having seen Molly for many a week, he took it into hishead that I had caught the epidemic, and sent for a doctor. The doctorcame, felt my pulse, and looked at my tongue, and pronounced me verybad, but said that he did not see the usual signs of the epidemic.

  He ordered me, however, to be put to bed, and prescribed me some physic.Instead of doing me any good, it only made me worse, for the doctor wasignorant of the true cause of my low spirits. I was forced to keep inbed, and could do nothing night or day but think of Molly. My father,seeing me rapidly grow worse, but still ignorant of the cause--though heknew that I had been very much cut up about Molly--began to take onso--I being his only son--that the doctor was afraid that he would haveto take to his bed. Once, shortly after Molly's disappearance, he toldme that she had caught the epidemic and had died.

  He hoped by this tale to bring me to my senses, and that I should soonforget her, and begin courting some other girl, but it had a verydifferent effect upon me, and I rapidly sunk from worse to worse. Whenthe doctor called again, he found me in a dangerous state, and he cameto the conclusion that it must be the epidemic after all. Whether Ireally had caught the epidemic in addition to my love-sickness I can'ttell. All I know is that I felt so bad that I didn't expect to live, andeven the doctor said it was all over with me.

  My death was expected daily, and when one morning the doctor came andfound me stiff and cold, he gave out to my parents that I was dead. Iwas no more dead than I am at the present moment. It is true that Icould not budge an inch, and I have no doubt that I looked thoroughlydead, but my mind was as clear and as sharp as possible.

  "Poor young man," I heard the doctor say. "So hale and strong, too.Who'd have thought it?"

  "Oh, my poor son! my poor son!" wept my father. "You whom I thought torear to be the prop of my old age, now you are torn from me for ever."

  "Calm yourself, sir," said the doctor, "else you will make yourselfill."

  "How can I calm myself?" cried my father, in agony. "Was he not my_only_ son? and I--I--fool, wretch, that I was--_I_ killed him!"

  "_You_ killed him!" cried the doctor. "How? Surely you rave, sir."

  "Yes," persisted my father; "the poor boy was in love with a maid whosefather is my enemy. I objected to his marrying her, as did also thegirl's father, who wishing to save his daughter from my son sent heraway to live at the house of an aunt in the village of H---- in----shire. As my son knew nothing of this, I told him, thinking to makehim forget her, that the maid was dead, but the poor boy took on sodreadful about it, that it has been his death, and I--yes I am hismurderer!" and I thought his sobs would choke him.

  "It was very wrong and foolish of you," said the doctor, "to tell himso, when you saw him so weak and ailing, yet you did it with a goodintent, and I do not see that you can justly accuse yourself of beinghis murderer."

  "Yes, yes," sobbed my father, bitterly, "I have killed him--my son, my_only_ son!"

  Now I had discovered a secret. Molly was not dead, but living at heraunt's. I knew her address; if I could but be restored to life, I mightsee her once again. I longed to be able to call out: "Father, I am notdead--comfort yourself," but my tongue refused utterance.
I tried tomove my limbs, and did all that was in my power to show signs of life,but I still lay powerless--paralysed, for I was in a trance. Oh! theagony I suffered! How long would it last? Should I be really nailed upin a coffin and buried alive? Oh, horror!

  Some of my friends the neighbours were called in to see me and mournedover my corpse.

  "Poor Jack!" one of them said; "if lads of his kidney are not proofagainst the epidemic, who may hope to escape?"

  The next day an undertaker was sent for to measure me for my coffin.

  "Where will all this end?" thought I. "Shall I awake before the coffinis made?"

  This was my only hope; but if not, all was lost. Once nailed down,nailed down for ever. The thought was agony.

  Here I was, struck down in the flower of my youth, to all appearancesdead, yet with my mind keenly alive to all that was going on around me.Oh, that I could become insensible! I knew not how long this dreadfultrance would last; all I knew was that if it lasted more than a day ortwo longer it would be all up with me. I was laid out in state, and allthat day and the next friends poured in to gaze upon my corpse.

  As the time grew nearer for my funeral the more despairing I got. Atlength the coffin arrived. I shuddered. Had my last moment actuallycome? What could I do? Nothing.

  "Oh, Heaven!" I cried within myself, "for what fell crime am I doomed tobear this agony of soul?"

  Two undertakers now lifted me from my bed, one of them seizing me by theshoulders, the other by the feet, and I felt myself placed within aleaden coffin supported upon trestles. I did my utmost now to make onelast desperate effort to rouse myself out of my trance, but in vain.

  "Oh, if they should nail me up!" I thought.

  Then I was left alone all day, and remember a great bustle andwhispering going on in the house. All were talking of my funeral. Atlength the fatal hour arrived! The undertakers entered my room again.Good Heavens! they were actually going to solder me down. The nextinstant the leaden lid was down upon me, and I was soon tightly secured.Then commenced the knocking in of the nails of the outer coffin. Howpainfully distinct was the sound of the hammer! I remember counting eachnail as it was driven in. At length the task was completed, and I onlyawaited the hearse to carry me to my last home.

  Then there was more bustle, the meeting of friends, etc., when afterwaiting a little longer, I heard the footsteps of the bearers. I feltmyself lifted upon the shoulders of the men and carried downstairs. Acrowd had evidently collected round the door, for I heard the muffledsound of voices gossipping, but could not distinguish what they said.Only the tolling of the church bell jarred upon my ears. Then theprocession began. How slowly it moved along!

  "Oh! if I could even now awake!" thought I, "it might not be too late.If I could make sufficient movement with my limbs to overturn thecoffin, or even had strength to call out, I should even now be saved."

  But all in vain--rigid, motionless as ever, in spite of my earnestprayers to be restored to life. I felt myself borne leisurelyon--whither? Oh, horror! to the cold and narrow grave--to the abode ofthe dead. My last hope died within me when I felt the procession stop,and I knew that it was already arrived at the cemetery. I rememberhearing faintly the tones of the parson's voice as he read the ceremonyfor the burial of the dead. The coffin was now lowered into the grave,and I heard with awful distinctness the words "earth to earth, ashes toashes, dust to dust," followed by the rattling of the three handfuls ofearth upon my coffin lid. My last hope was now gone. In another moment Ishould be covered up with mould and left alone to die miserably.

  "Oh!" groaned I, in spirit, "it is all over with me!" as I heard themould tumbling heavily upon me.

  I knew that the grave was now covered up, for the voices of my friendswere quite inaudible, and all was silent.

  What a terrible feeling of isolation was mine! Cut off completely fromthe rest of the world by some feet of earth, alive, yet supposed to bedead, deserted by friends and doomed at length to awaken only to suffera death of all deaths most horrible! Had I still believed Molly to bedead, it would have been some consolation to me to die; nay, how gladlywould I have welcomed death that I might meet her in a better land. But,alas, I knew that Molly still lived, and after death I should be furtheraway from her than ever. This thought was agony to me. One thing,however, somewhat consoled me, though it was but poor consolation.

  "We must all die," I thought.

  Molly must die, too. It might be years before she left this earth,still I should see her again sooner or later. But then came another,thought which, do all I could, I was unable to banish from my mind. Inthe meantime Molly might marry someone else, and rear up a large familyof children, and what could I be to her then if I ever chanced to meether in the other world? If ever human soul knew agony, mine knew itthen. I longed for no eternity without Molly, and I remember prayingthat my spirit might be utterly annihilated and become as insensible asthe clay that I was about to leave behind me. It was a dreadful and animpious prayer, but when during life, one dear idol has monopolised theheart and there reigns supreme, even the fear of eternal damnation isinsufficient to drive it from its throne.

  "Oh, that I could die quickly and be at rest for ever!"

  Then I prayed fervently a long, heartfelt, earnest prayer, after which Ifelt more calm, more resigned to my fate. I had no hopes of beingrescued and being brought back to life--that hope had quite left me. Inow only wished for a speedy and peaceful death. Many weary hours I layon my back within my narrow prison--rigid--immovable--a living soulamongst the dead. The silence that reigned around was intense, almostinconceivable to those accustomed to the busy world without.

  I missed the rustling of the leaves, the chirping of the birds, thedistant lowing of cattle, the hum of human voices, every sound of life;all was still, for it was _the silence of the grave_. The only sound atall audible, and that was so indistinct and muffled from the pile ofearth that covered me that, had my sense of hearing not been excited toan abnormal pitch, I should not have heard it, and that was the sound ofthe church clock as it struck the hour. I had been buried in the morningat about ten o'clock, and I remember counting the hours until teno'clock at night. Every hour appeared to me a century, until, exhaustedwith the agony of mind I had endured, I fell asleep and dreamed ofMolly. I thought that I was by her side walking under the trees in apart of the country that I had never seen before.

  There was a house at some distance, which she said belonged to her aunt.I was telling her all about how I came to be buried alive, and she waslistening to me and looking up in my face with tearful eyes, for she hadheard that I was dead. I also dreamed that I saw a serpent moving in thegrass at her feet. I sprang up and beat it severely with my cane. Atfirst it attempted to defend itself, but at length it escaped from meseverely bruised.

  The dream then changed from one subject to another, but Molly was by myside throughout. It was exceedingly vivid, and I doubted not at the timebut that I was by her side in reality.

  I know not how long I had been asleep when I heard a confused noisewhile still in a dreaming state, and I awoke to find myself once more inmy coffin.

  "Oh, why was not this dream allowed to last?" I groaned to myself, andtried to fall asleep again, hoping to take up the thread of my dream atthe point that I had lost it, but in vain, for now I heard the samenoise in reality over my head. It was the sound of men's voices. Whocould they be? Was I still dreaming? No!

  They were the resurrectionists, or the "body-snatchers," as we generallycall them. They had come to rob my body in order to sell it to somedoctor. How my heart beat for joy!

  "I shall be saved! I shall be saved!" said I to myself.

  "O merciful God!" I prayed in spirit, "who scornest not to make themeanest of thy creatures thine instruments, I thank Thee for havingheard my prayers and delivered me from this fearful death. I am unworthyof all thy mercies, O God! Perform thy miracles on men more worthy."

  The body-snatchers had now shovelled all the earth away that covered me,and they began to
lift the coffin out of the grave. Had it been myfriend's coffin instead of my own, I should have stigmatised the men whoattempted to disinter his body as thieves, robbers, a set of midnightmarauders; but in the present instance I blessed them as my deliverers,as my brothers. My heart yearned towards them, for my hopes began torevive.

  It would be discovered that I was not dead, at least, I hoped so, andwhen my trance should pass off I should be able to find some way ofseeing Molly again. The next moment the outer coffin was wrenched open;then they proceeded to force the leaden one. This was soon done, and Inow felt the chill night air. To lift me out, thrust me headfirst into asack, and shovel the earth into the grave again, was the work of amoment, and I now felt myself laid across the shoulder of one of themen, and carried off.

  "Where was I bound for?" I asked myself.

  The men began talking together, so I resolved to listen--to learn, ifpossible, what they were going to do with me.

  "A fine corpse, Bill," said one body-snatcher to the other.

  "Aye, my word," replied Bill, "but what a weight he be!"

  "Ah! I dare say; these youngsters are so full of blood and muscle," saidthe other.

  "Tell you what it is, Tom," said my bearer, "you must lend me a hand orI shall never bring him safely to the doctor's to-night. Here, just takehim on your shoulders a bit!"

  I then felt myself transferred from the shoulders of Bill to those ofTom.

  "Begad! you're right," said the latter. "He be a load, sure_ly_."

  "Well," said Bill, "the doctor has got the full worth of his money, andno mistake. For less than ten guineas I wouldn't have undertaken thetask on such a night as this. Hark! how the wind howls. My teeth chatterin spite of myself. Poor Jack! Many's the good draught of malt he hasdrawn for me in his father's tap-room!"

  "Peace, you fool!" cried Tom; "don't talk so loud, or the thing will getwind in the village, and we shall get torn to pieces. Hush! there issomeone behind the hedge."

  Then they walked on in silence for some time, and on the way I was oncemore hoisted on to the shoulders of Bill.

  "Oh, you beggar, what a weight you be!" said Bill, addressing me. "Well,we're paid for it, so I suppose I must carry you," and off we trudgedagain.

  "This is the way to Dr. Slasher's house," said Tom. "I see a light inthe windows; he is awaiting us."

  "Well," said Bill, "we've been pretty punctual. It is not much pasttwelve o'clock. Here we are at last."

  The two men stopped, and one threw some earth against the doctor'swindow. The next moment I heard footsteps within, and the door wasopened noiselessly.

  "Hush!" said the doctor's voice.

  The two men entered the house, when I was taken out of my sack anddeposited upon a table in the doctor's study. It was the same doctor whohad attended me during my illness.

  "Fine specimen, sir," said Bill, "and tough work enough we've had toget him, neither; the ground's as hard as a brick-bat."

  "Ah!" said the doctor, abstractedly, feeling me all over.

  "Yes, sir," said the other; "and how heavy he be too!"

  "Humph!" said the doctor.

  "It is a bitter cold night," said Bill. "The wind howled among the treeswhile we was at work enough to make one's blood curdle."

  "Ha!" said the doctor; "I know what that means. A glass of grog wouldn'tbe unacceptable, unless I mistake."

  "Well, sir, you've just guessed about right," said Bill. "A glass ofgrog now and then, just to keep out the cold is a very fine thing, asyou, being a doctor, sir, I've no doubt are well aware."

  "Ha! ha!" laughed the doctor. "I perceive you understand the theory ofthe circulation of the blood. Well, as you have done your work well,I'll just put the kettle on the hob, and you shall have a good stiffglass apiece."

  "That's the sort of thing, eh, Tom? The doctor is a real gentleman, andno mistake."

  Tom acquiesced, and soon the doctor produced a tall bottle of brandy,and more than half filling two tumblers, and popping a couple of lumpsof sugar into each glass, he lifted the kettle from the hob and filledthem up to the brim. Then, stirring up the sugar at the bottom with thehandle of his dissecting knife, he handed a glass to each of hiscreatures across my body.

  "Here's luck, sir," said one of them, nodding.

  "I looks towards you, sir," said the other, sipping his grog.

  "Thanks, my man, thanks," said the doctor.

  "A----h!" gasped Bill, after a deep draught, and smacking his lips,"this is something like a glass of grog. I feel myself again. I'd aslief set out again after another subject to-night as not."

  "Well, mate," said Tom, draining his glass, "I guess we'd bettertoddle."

  The doctor then counted out twenty guineas, and gave the men ten apiece.

  "Thank ye kindly, sir," said they, "and when again you be in want of ourservices, your honour knows where to find us. Good-night, sir."

  "Good-night," responded the doctor, as he showed them out and closed thedoor.

  I was left alone for a moment, but when he returned he might begindissecting me at once, and that would be horrible, for I was still in mytrance. I hoped he would defer operations until the morrow. In themeantime I hoped to come to. Then I heard the doctor's footsteps in thepassage, and here he was again. Would he really cut me up before I couldcall out or defend myself? Good Heavens! What was he about now? He hadtucked up his shirt sleeves and seized his dissecting-knife!

  All was lost. My hopes had been raised only to be dashed to the ground.My last hour had come. Already I felt the point of the murderousinstrument against my chest. Rip!--an incision had been made!

  "Hullo!" cried the doctor, dropping his dissecting-knife. "What is this?Why the man's not dead!"

  The fact was, I was gradually recovering, and my blood had already begunto flow. The intense mental agony I had endured had caused a cold sweatto break out on my forehead. The incision luckily was not very deep, butI bear the mark of the wound to this day.

  The doctor staunched the blood with his handkerchief, muttering tohimself, "And have I been obliged to pay twenty guineas for a livingsubject? Humph! I've a good mind to cut him up all the same, no onewould be any the wiser for it."

  I began to fear lest he might do so in real earnest; however, he boundup my wound and carried me into his own bedroom, where he placed me on amattress on the ground. He wiped the perspiration from my forehead andfelt my pulse.

  "He'll come round," he muttered to himself; "already he shows signs oflife. I would not for the world, though, that this got known in thevillage. I should lose all my practice, and yet I don't know how to keepthe matter quiet, it _must_ ooze out."

  Life was rapidly returning. I began to open and shut my eyes and tobreathe, though with some difficulty. By degrees, however, I managed tobreathe more freely.

  "Ah, ha!" said the doctor, noticing the rapid change, "getting allright, now--eh?"

  I remained in the same state for about an hour more, when the doctorbegan undressing and preparing to turn in for the night. In anothermoment he was between the sheets and snoring loudly. Soon after I fellasleep myself.

  The following morning on awaking, I felt almost myself again. I couldmove my limbs and sit up in bed, though I still felt very weak.

  "Well, how are we now?" asked the doctor, seeing that I moved withcomparative ease. "A nice trick you've played me. Do you know that youhave done me out of twenty guineas--by coming to life again--eh? I hopedto have cut you all up by this time--and I might have done so, too,easily enough at the time, but I suppose if I were to try it on nowyou'd halloa."

  Then he began to ask me all sorts of questions, to which I answeredfeebly. In reply to a question of his as to whether I felt hungry, Inodded my head, and the doctor went to prepare me a cup of broth. Whenhe returned and I had partaken of it, new strength came back to me, andI was able to relate to him all my sufferings while he listenedattentively. Well, day after day I improved in health under the doctor'scare, till I at length completely recovered. One morning after I was up
and dressed, and breakfasting with the doctor (N.B.--Nobody, not eventhe doctor's servant, knew anything about either the removal of my bodyfrom the grave or of my coming to life again, for the doctor took goodcare to keep me locked up for a time in his bedchamber.) Well,breakfasting one morning with the doctor, I noticed that he lookedrather thoughtful and confused.

  "Now, I'll tell you what your thoughts are, doctor," said I, "and yousee if I haven't guessed right."

  "Well," said he, somewhat surlily.

  "You are afraid that the affair about digging up my body may get known,and will damage your reputation, and you do not know how to keep itsecret. Is it not so?" I asked.

  "Well, sir," said he, "you've just guessed about right, but what is tobe done?"

  "Listen to me," said I. "I have a plan."

  "Indeed!" said he, opening his eyes.

  "Yes, a plan to kill two birds with one stone," I said. "It is to yourinterest that this affair should not be known--eh? Well, it is to myinterest, too. All will go well if you do as I propose."

  "What is that?" asked he, with eagerness.

  "First you must lend me a complete disguise, consisting of one of yourold wigs, a pair of tortoiseshell spectacles, and one of your suits ofclothes. Secondly, you must lend me a certain sum of money to keep mefor, say, a fortnight. I'll pay you back in due time, when my plan hassucceeded. You needn't be afraid. You can trust Jack Hearty--eh?"

  "Yes, certainly," said he, with some hesitation. "But how? I don'tunderstand."

  "Never mind that," said I; "you will know all in good time."

  "Well, Jack," said he, "I know you for a sharp fellow and an honest--soI will trust you. I don't know what your scheme is; but if it fail, andthe worst comes to the worst, why I can but be exposed, and there is anend of it."

  "Well said, doctor," said I; "now let us commence to put the scheme intopractice."

  He then took from his wardrobe rather a threadbare suit of blackclothes, which I immediately donned. Then I tried on an old powdered wigwith a pigtail and a pair of lace ruffles, next a pair of tortoiseshellspectacles with glasses as big as a crown piece. I next corked myeyebrows, slightly stained the tip of my nose with red and made a fewfalse wrinkles in my forehead. The doctor placed a gold-headed cane inmy hand and a large signet ring on my forefinger. I then took a bookunder my arm, and at parting the doctor gave me a purse of gold to putin my pocket, and off I started. The doctor laughed immoderately at mysuccessful disguise, and I heard him say as I was leaving the house, "Idon't know what he means to be up to, but some devilry, _I'll_ lay afarthing."

  Well, gentlemen, the next thing I did was to walk straight off to catchthe stage, which would pass by the village of H----, where Molly wasstaying with her aunt. I remember I had to run for it, and pretty hard,too, but I caught it up. Tearing along as fast as my legs could carryme, I passed by a group of villagers, some of my friends amongst them,and I heard the following remarks:

  "Here comes the doctor, running for his life!"--"Go it doctor, you'llcatch it up!"--"My eyes, don't he run!--who'd have thought the old boyhad so much life in him?"

  "It ain't the doctor, though; it's another man. I don't know him, Jim,do you? I wonder how long he has been in the village. I never see himbefore."

  As I was stepping into the coach I heard a voice behind me say, "Ithought it was Dr. Slasher, Bill, didn't you?"

  "Yes, at first," said another; "he's like him--leastways the clothesis."

  "By the way," said the first, "I wonder when the doctor will be readyfor another subject. I suppose poor Jack's cut up long since."

  "Hush! you fool," said the other.

  By this time I had taken my seat in the coach, and looking in thedirection of the voices, I recognised my friends of the other night, Tomand Bill. Off we then started. The coach was full of men I knew as wellas my own father, most of them my customers. I appeared absorbed in mybook, so as not to get entangled in conversation with anyone, for fearthat my voice might betray me.

  Two men, who appeared to be strangers to each other, began entering intoconversation.

  "Dreadful business this epidemic, sir," said the younger of the two tothe elder.

  "Yes, it is indeed," replied the elder; "the young fare the same as theold, they say, but I am a stranger in the place."

  "Oh, indeed, sir," said the first speaker; and then added, "Yes,sir--that's true enough--the young die as soon as the old. Hardly a weekago died young Jack Hearty, son of old Hearty, as keeps the HeadlessLady--a lad of nineteen, and as hale a young fellow as ever you'd findin a day's march. He was taken suddenly ill, and died in a very fewdays.

  "Poor young fellow! who'd have thought that he would have gone alongwith the rest? He was an only son, too, and they say his father isdevilish down in the mouth about it."

  "Dear me! dreadful, to be sure," replied the elder.

  The conversation then changed to various topics, and became general, theonly one not joining in it being myself. I still pored over my book,appearing not to take an interest in anything that was being said,although my ears were open to catch every word.

  "Who's that cove?" I heard one say to his neighbour.

  "Oi doan't knaw, Oi'm sure," replied the one addressed, being a lustyfarmer. "Oi never see'd un in these parts afore--looks loike a doctor."

  "Why don't he speak?" said the other. "He won't talk to no one."

  "Maybe un's too proud," said the former.

  "I'd like to kick the surly devil," said his companion.

  "What'll you bet Oi doan't make un speak?" said the countryman.

  "Bet you a halfpenny you don't get a word out of him," said the firstspeaker.

  "Done," said the farmer, and turning suddenly upon me, accosted methus:--

  "Oi zay, governor, you bes a doctor, b'aint ye?"

  I drew myself up with an air of dignity, and said with a frown, and in afeigned voice: "Did you address _me_, sir?"

  "Ees," said the bumpkin, unawed by my assumption of dignity; "and Oiaxes ye if ye b'aint a doctor."

  "Well, sir," I said; "and if I am!"

  "Ha! ha! ha!" he laughed coarsely. "Oi knowed ye was. Oi thought Oiknowed the breed. Vell, you doctors has made a pretty harvest of late,Oi reckon," said the farmer, bluntly.

  "How so, sir," I asked. "I do not understand you."

  "Vhy, vith the patients as has died in this here hepidemic," said he."They must have brought grist to your mill, if Oi'm not mistook."

  "What epidemic?" I asked, feigning surprise. "I am a stranger in theseparts, and know nothing of the epidemic."

  "Vhy, ye doan't mane to zay that ye never heard of th' epidemic as allth' vorld is a talking of," said he.

  "All the world!" I cried, in astonishment. "All your little village, Isuppose you mean--no, I am entirely ignorant of this malady."

  "Vell then, doctor," said the boor, "if ye'd only set up in our village,there's a snug little business going on for the loikes of you."

  "Humph!" I grunted, not deigning to make other reply.

  "Yes, indeed, sir," said a man in the opposite corner of the coach,joining in the conversation, but more respectfully than my friend thefarmer. "I assure you that a doctor's services are very much needed inthese parts. They say the malady is spreading."

  The last speaker was a man I knew as well as I know my own face in alooking-glass, and whom I had served to innumerable pints of ourhome-brewed ale--a crony of mine, in fact, yet he failed to see throughmy disguise.

  "Dear me!" said I. "I hope it will be nothing very serious. I regret notbeing able to make myself useful, as I have several important cases toattend to a long distance off."

  "Oh, it has been very bad indeed, sir, hereabouts," said the same man."Most cases have been fatal. The death that has been most talked of inthe village is that of poor Jack Hearty, a lad of nineteen, as strongand as good looking a young fellow as any in the village. He was tookbad, as it might be, yesterday, and struck down to-day in the veryflower of his youth."

  "You don't say
so?" said I.

  "Yes, sir," he resumed; "and I'll be bound to say you wouldn't find afiner young fellow in all England."

  "Really!" said I, inwardly feeling flattered.

  "Ah!" said another, with a sly wink. "I think I could tell you whathastened Jack's death as much as anything."

  "What was that?" I asked.

  "There was a young woman in the case, they say," said the man, whom Ialso knew intimately.

  "Well, sir," said I, with a well-feigned innocence; "and this youngwoman----?"

  "Well, I believe he died pining for her, and folks say as how it was thehepidemic."

  "Ah!" I said with a sigh. "That is an epidemic we all catch some time orother, but most folks get over it, I fancy."

  "Well, yes," said the man; "most folks, as you say, do, but poor Jackwas very hard hit indeed, sir. I happen to know the young woman, too--asfine a wench as you'll meet with in the whole kingdom."

  "Ah! indeed," I said. "They would have been well matched then, had theymarried?"

  "They would indeed, sir," was the reply. "They'd have made a pair as youwouldn't meet every day. Well, well," he sighed; "he's gone now, poorfellow, so the wench must look out for someone else."

  "Did the girl take it much to heart, think you?" said I.

  "Aye, I'll warrant she did, sir," said he, "though I can't say forcertain, seeing as how her father sent her away from home to get her outof Jack's way. But she'll have heard all about it by this time. Poorgirl! I am sorry for her. She'll have to wait a long time before shefinds another like Jack."

  "Perhaps she may never marry," I suggested; "that is if she really lovedhim."

  "Can't say I'm sure, sir. You see the maid is quite young yet, and hasgot lots of admirers; what with one and what with another, she may intime forget Jack and take to someone else," said my friend.

  "You have heard no rumours as yet, I suppose, of her showing anypartiality towards anyone," I demanded, timidly.

  "No, sir, I can't say that exactly, but then it is so shortly afterJack's death, that it isn't likely she would just yet. Still there's ayoung fellow, the son of a squire, as is very sweet upon her, and isalways following of her about. If she could manage to catch him, she'ddo well, but the young gent's father don't approve of it, and is like tocut him off to a shilling if he marries her. Folks say that the youngsquire is a bit of a scamp, and don't mean marriage. It'll be a pity ifthe maid goes wrong, for she is a good girl, and no mistake."

  Now this was gall and wormwood to me. I knew that that rascal youngRashly had been hovering about Molly's house for some time. He had oftencrossed me in my walks with Molly, and we hated each other like poison,but I also knew that Molly couldn't bear the sight of him, for she wasreally and truly in love with me, yet the very mention of his namecoupled with hers made my blood boil. Mastering my emotion, however, Iasked with as much apparent indifference as possible, "And this younggentleman, where is he now?"

  "Oh, up to his larks, I'll warrant," said the man, with a laugh. "Thegirl's father has sent her away to live with her aunt, to get her out ofJack's way, as he is not friends with Jack's father, and I guess out ofthe way of the young squire, too; but young Rashly has been absent nowsome time from the village, and I'll be bound he has found her out bythis time. Now that poor Jack's dead he'll have the way all clear beforehim."

  "The devil take him," I muttered to myself. I was bursting with rage,and to conceal my emotion, I affected to stare out of the window at someobject, while my heart beat underneath my borrowed waistcoat, and musthave been audible but for the coach wheels. I appeared again absorbed inmy book while the rest of the passengers discoursed upon general topics.

  "Give us the halfpenny," I heard my bluff fellow-traveller say to hisfriend; "it's been fairly von." His friend's hand was buried for aninstant, and the coin was transferred from his to the farmer's breechespocket.

  "That's zum business, onyrate," said the countryman, receiving thepayment of the bet with a chuckle.

  The stage then rolled on for some distance further, till some passengercalled out:

  "There is H----, any passenger for H----?"

  "Yes, sir," said I; "I am for H----."

  The stage stopped, and with trembling hands and beating heart I squeezedpast the other passengers.

  "Good morning, gentlemen," said I, as I walked off.

  The stage was set in motion again. There was no other passenger butmyself for the village of H----, so I strolled off with light step tothe nearest inn.

  Having refreshed myself with a light luncheon, I strolled about thecountry a bit until I came across--you may be surprised, gentlemen--butI actually came across the very same house with the very identicalcountry round about it, including the wood, that appeared in my dream. Icertainly _was_ startled.

  "Yonder, then, is the house of Molly's aunt," I thought, and I walkedtowards it, thinking all the while how I should introduce myself.

  Before I reached the house, however, two figures in the distance underthe trees of the wood attracted my gaze. I looked again. One of thefigures, I was sure, could be no other than Molly herself, and the otherI was equally certain was young Rashly.

  I hastened my steps, but by a route so as not to come directly in frontof them, for I wished to overhear their conversation. Having made aroundabout cut, I concealed myself behind some brushwood, where I couldboth see them distinctly, and hear all they said without being seen bythem.

  "Come, Molly," I heard young Rashly say, "enough of this. What is thegood of making yourself miserable about young Hearty? He's dead now,poor fellow--he was a great friend of mine, but now that he is gone andcan never come back to you, try to forget him. I wish to console you andto raise your spirits. Now, my dear girl, do try and forget him."

  "Oh, never, never!" sobbed Molly, "I never _can_ forget him. I shallnever be able to love anyone else. Poor fellow! He died out of love forme, I know he did. Oh, Jack, Jack, I never can forget you--never,never!" and she sobbed as if her heart would break.

  "Now, Molly, this is nothing but obstinacy; you can't call him back,however you may mourn for him. Just look at the position _I_ offer you._I_ shall be able to make you more comfortable than Jack would have beenable to make you. Is it nothing to be made a lady of? Don't be a fool,girl, and throw such a chance away. Hundreds in your place would jump atit."

  "How can I accept such terms from a man I do not love?" cried Molly."Would I not be one of the basest of women to persuade you that I lovedyou just to become your wife, when my heart is another's?"

  "How can your heart be another's when Jack is no more?" asked he.

  "Yes, yes; in death my heart shall still be his," Molly cried.

  "Come, now, you're talking like a mad girl. Just listen to reason a bit.I will settle a good round sum a year upon you to keep you as a lady ina nice little cottage with a garden, where I shall always be able tocome to pay you a visit in secret, when my father is out of the way."

  "Then you never from the first intended to _marry_ me," interruptedMolly, "you only--only--wanted to----"

  "Why, actually _marry_ you, no; I never intended that. _That_ would beimpossible, but----"

  "Exactly; I understand you," answered Molly, proudly, "but I scorn yourbase proposals. If you were to lay the wealth of the universe at myfeet, I would never barter my good name. So _this_ is what you have beentrying at all this time, to make me your minion.

  "When first you visited me, you gave me to understand that yourintentions were honourable, and though I loved you not, and never could,yet I respected you and felt compassion for you and tried to think ofyou as a friend. Now I neither pity nor respect you, but _despise_ you.Go, sir, and never dare to speak to me again!"

  "What a trump of a girl!" I muttered to myself.

  "Molly! Molly!" cried Rashly, starting backward in amazement, "are youmad?"

  "I should be mad to accept your proposals," replied Molly, calmly, butfirmly. "Go, sir--all friendship between us is at an end."

  "My dear Mol
ly," began Rashly, "I beg of you, I entreat you to calmyourself--to take a more reasonable view of the matter. Come, let mepersuade you, dear," said he, advancing and attempting to put his armround her waist, but he was instantly repulsed.

  He essayed again.

  "Dare to touch me once more, sir, and I'll scream--I'll rouse theneighbourhood and expose you."

  "Hush, hush!" said Rashly, nothing daunted, "be reasonable, there's agood girl, I'll do you no harm," and he ventured to touch her again.

  "Back, sir, I say!" and she lifted up her voice to scream, but instantlyhis hand was on her mouth.

  I could endure it no longer, but bursting from my hiding-place, andgrasping firmly my gold-headed cane, I sprang to the spot.

  "Who are you, sir?" I cried, boiling with rage, "that dare offer toinsult my niece? Begone! or it will be the worse for you."

  Both started, and Rashly turned livid and trembled.

  "I thank you, sir," said Molly, "for interfering."

  Then thrusting Rashly aside, I cried; "Molly! I am your uncle, do younot know me?" trying to disguise my voice all the while, which wasrather a difficult matter, boiling with passion as I was then.

  "I do not know you, sir, though I believe your intentions to be good,"said Molly.

  Then seizing Molly by the hand, I whispered in her ear; "Silence!--nota word--I am Jack risen from the grave."

  A piercing shriek, and Molly fell fainting against a tree.

  "Who are you, you vagabond?" cried Rashly, now for the first timerecovering from his surprise. "She does not know you. What have you beensaying to the poor girl to frighten her so? You are an impostor, sir. Beoff and mind your own business!"

  "Impostor! eh?--vagabond, eh? I'll show you who is a vagabond, youscoundrel!" said I, and lifting my cane, I laid it about him with all mymight and main like a cavalryman cutting down his foe.

  Rashly at first attempted to defend himself, and flew at me like atiger; he tried to snatch the cane from my hand, but I hit him soseverely across the knuckles that I made him howl out in spite ofhimself. I cut him right and left over head, shoulders, arms and legs,hacking and slashing with the force of an infuriated madman,accompanying each blow with such epithets as "scoundrel," "blackguard,"till he burst out in a piteous cry and took refuge in flight. He nevertroubled Molly again.

  The doctor's gold-headed cane had been broken with the force of theblows I had dealt my rival, for which afterwards I had to pay, but toreturn to Molly. She gradually recovered her senses, and gazed at mewonderingly and full of fear.

  "Be calm, Molly," I said in my natural voice, "it is I--Jack, risenfrom the grave, but still in the flesh and no spirit." Then taking offmy spectacles and wig, I said, "Molly, do you not recognise these eyesand these locks, in spite of the rest of my disguise?"

  She still looked fearful and distrustingly at me, but at lengthconvinced that it was myself--and no one else--by my voice, she flew tomy arms crying, "Oh, Jack, Jack!--is it really you?"

  Of course, she wanted an instant explanation of my resurrection, which Iby degrees gave; and having given it, I began to unfold to her my plan,thus.

  "Molly," I said, "what I have told you and am about to tell you now mustremain a secret between ourselves, otherwise my plan will fail. Wellthen, in the first place you must get me acquainted with your aunt, andgive out that I am an elderly gentleman you have known some time, andthat you have met me quite unexpectedly here. You must invite me to callat the house. I shall adopt the name of Dr. Crow. You must feign illnessand send for me. Thus we shall be able to see a good deal of each other.I will also persuade your aunt that she is ill, so that we shall seestill more of each other. I'll worm myself into her good graces andafter about a fortnight or so, I shall ask your aunt's consent to ourmarriage. I shall tell her that I am a doctor in good practice, andshall be able to keep you well, and when I once get the right side ofher, I doubt not that I shall obtain her consent. She will then write toyour father, who will hardly say anything against a match soadvantageous, although our ages may be apparently unequal.

  "It is not likely that he will trouble himself to come down here to havea look at me, as he is at present laid up with the gout. He will in allprobability write his consent. That once obtained, I shall make allnecessary preparations for the marriage, and as for obtaining myfather's consent--leave that to me."

  "Oh, but, Jack! if your plan should fail--if your disguise should beseen through," began Molly.

  "Leave all to me," said I. "So far I have been successful, for I havenot been recognised yet. Fortune seems on my side. You must aid me inevery possible way to carry out my plan."

  "I will, Jack!" said she.

  "Well, then," said I, "you must go home now to your aunt, and say youhave met an old friend of yours quite by chance here--a certain Dr.Crow. Say also that I should like to call and make her acquaintance.Meet me again to-morrow in the wood, and invite me to the house. Intime, I've no doubt, all will go well."

  Molly promised to follow my instructions, and we parted.

  It was then late in the afternoon, so I returned to my inn. There Ifound a snug little parlour, with a bookcase, so I beguiled the time aswell as I could by reading until the clock struck the dinner hour. Aftera comfortable meal, I smoked a pipe of tobacco, strolled about thestreets a little in the twilight, and turned into bed.

  Next morning, after breakfast, I strolled out again into the wood. Iwalked about for an hour, perhaps, without meeting anyone, castinganxious glances all the while towards the house where Molly lived.

  At length she made her appearance; not alone this time, but with anotherfemale. This must be the aunt, I thought--so much the better. Feelingthe necessity of an excuse for hovering about so near the house, Ifeigned to be gathering wild flowers.

  "Oh, aunt!" I heard Molly say as she came up, "here is Dr. Crow, thegentleman that I spoke to you about yesterday."

  "Ah, Miss Sykes!" said I, lifting my hat in the most polite manner, "Ihope I see you well this morning."

  Molly gave me her hand, and introduced me to her aunt, who curtseyed andsmiled.

  I said that I had come down here for a change of air, and that I wasamusing myself with botanising.

  "Oh, indeed!" said the aunt. "So that is your hobby, is it, Dr.Crow--well, and a very delightful one, too. I am very fond of flowersmyself, and only wish I knew more about them. I do envy you scientificmen. You always seem so happy and contented."

  "Well, madam," said I, "there is nothing like having a hobby in life. Itfills up many a weary hour and makes us forget the din and the bustle ofthe busy world around us. For my part, when I have no patients to attendto, I am always occupied in some way or other."

  "Dear me," said the aunt. "How very delightful!"

  We walked on together, conversing agreeably as we went, and afterwards Iwas invited into the house. Need I say that I praised to the utmost thegood taste of everything I saw there, her paperhangings, her worstedwork, her crochet, etc. I was then shown some specimens of ferns andwild flowers that she had dried in a book, and she begged of me to writetheir classical names under them.

  This was indeed a trial, as I had never learnt a single word of Latin,but it would not do to back out, so I exerted all my ingenuity to inventsome crackjaw names. Among the rest I remember inscribing the words"_Rodus sidus_," "_Stenchius obnoxious_," and "_Herbus unnonus_." Thesenames delighted Molly's aunt immensely, who believed she was already aLatin scholar. I found my way so well into the aunt's good graces that Iwas invited to call whenever I liked, and frequently asked to dinner.

  As I did not like to call every day, for fear it should look bad, eitherMolly or Molly's aunt managed to feel unwell on the days that I did notcall, and they found it necessary to send for me, so it came to much thesame thing, as I saw Molly every day. Molly's aunt was one of that classof females who are always imagining that something or other is thematter with them. I soon saw, therefore, that to get thoroughly into hergood graces, I must humour her in her whims.

&
nbsp; Accordingly, I made out that she had this, that, or the other--indeed,I forget what it was exactly that I said ailed her--and promised tobring her some physic. This quite won her heart, so I at once set aboutmaking some liquorice water, endeavouring to disguise the taste of theliquorice as much as possible by adding salt, pepper, a little soap,some tobacco, and other nauseous ingredients. I wonder the mess didn'tpoison her, but so far from causing ill-effects, she informed me that ithad really done her good.

  Whether the good it had done her only lay in her imagination or whetherthe strange compound really did possess a medicinal property I cannottell (I can hardly think the latter), but certain it was, she _did_ seembetter. I believe the real fact of the matter to be this. Molly's auntwas the daughter of a well-to-do retired butcher, and like many of herclass, had over-indulged in high feeding, and consequently was alwayssuffering from overloaded stomach. The mess that I gave her made hersick, and that, in reality, and not merely in imagination, effected acure.

  I then put her on a lower diet, recommended her plenty of walkingexercise, and in a very short time there was a complete change in herconstitution. She no longer felt dyspeptic and desponding, suffered nolonger from nervous headaches, in fact, in her own words, she "feltquite a girl again." All the effect of my wonderful medicine. This, ofcourse, was a feather in my cap, and she looked up to me more than ever.

  A week and then a fortnight passed away, and I now thought it high timeto break to the aunt my love affair with her niece, and ask her consentto our union. So I called upon her one morning and requested to speakwith her alone. She received me in the back parlour, and begged me totake a seat. I did so, and began thus:--

  "Ahem! Madam, I wished to talk to you upon a matter of some delicacy."

  "Good gracious, doctor! What can have happened?" she exclaimed,observing a look of unwonted gravity in my face.

  "Oh, nothing, nothing," I said; "at least, nothing of any greatimportance. Hear me. I am a physician of a certain age and in very goodpractice." I paused.

  "Well, Dr. Crow," said the aunt.

  "And I am still a bachelor," I continued.

  "Well, sir," said she, wriggling about in her seat and looking coy, asif she guessed I meditated a proposal, and took the compliment toherself.

  "Well, madam," said I, impatient to get through this painful duty, "tocut a long story short, I am in love with your charming niece."

  "_Oh!_ doctor," she exclaimed.

  The "_Oh!_" was jerked out with a spasm truly painful, and hercountenance fell visibly.

  "I dare say you were not prepared for such a surprise, but I have knownMiss Sykes now a long time, and I never saw anyone who could suit mebetter as a wife. Miss Sykes and I have talked the matter overtogether, and she only awaits her aunt's consent. Thank you, thank you,madam," said I seizing her hand, "I knew you would give it," beforegiving her an opportunity either to consent or refuse.

  "Molly!" I cried, "come and thank your kind aunt for having given herconsent to our happy union."

  Molly entered, blushing and giggling.

  "Come, Molly," said I, "come and thank aunt, for now we shall be ashappy as two birds in a nest. I'll go and see about the licence, andwe'll get married as soon as ever we can."

  I laughed and appeared very merry, repeatedly seizing the aunt by thehand and patting her on the shoulder before she had time to get a wordout.

  "Stay, sir," said she, at length, "I can do nothing without the consentof my niece's father."

  "Oh, that will be easily obtained, I am quite sure," said I, hopefully."We will at once write a note, and all will be settled."

  I brought her her desk, opened it, took out pen, ink, and paper, andplacing a chair for her, induced her to write.

  "Yes," I said, looking over her shoulder as she wrote, "that willdo--not _too_ cold. Say I am in a position to make his daughtercomfortable, and that you think it is a very desirable match--yes,that's the sort of thing. Give it to me, I'll take it to the post." Sosaying, I snatched up the epistle, bounded from the house, and returnedshortly, as happy as if everything were already settled.

  In due time came a reply from old Sykes, to the purport that, though hewould have chosen a younger man for his daughter, yet on the whole,considering that I had a pretty good business as a doctor, and couldkeep her well, he saw no reason why he should withhold his consent.Furthermore, he begged the aunt that if his daughter were to be marriedto hasten the marriage as much as possible, as young Rashly had beenmissing for some time, and folks said that he was down at H---- afterher.

  "Bravo! old Sykes," said I to myself, "Fortune seems to favour meindeed."

  The next step that I intended to take was to obtain the consent of myfather. Accordingly, I took leave of Molly for a time, stating that Ihad to absent myself on business, and promising a speedy return. Ientered the stage and arrived at our village, where I put up at myfather's inn. It was towards evening when I arrived.

  "Landlord!" I cried, disguising my voice, "I wish to dine inhalf-an-hour."

  "Yes, sir," said my father, coming towards me, bowing, and rubbing hishands.

  "Have you got a good bed?" asked I, "for I wish to sleep here to-night."

  "Yes, sir, capital beds, sir," said my father, "both clean and wellaired."

  "Very well, then, make me up one," said I, pompously.

  "It shall be done, sir," said my father, obsequiously.

  I occupied myself with reading until dinner-time. At length the dinnercame up.

  "A pint of your best port, landlord," I cried, magnificently.

  My father returned with the port, crusted and cob-webbed, from thecellar, and I began my dinner. Having finished, I filled my pipe, andwhilst my father cleared the table, I deigned to enter into conversationwith him.

  I began by asking him the number of inhabitants in the village, and thenbrought him out upon the subject of the epidemic.

  "Ah! sir," said my father, deeply moved, "it carried off my only sonsome three weeks ago, and a finer lad you wouldn't see in all England. Ihoped that he would have been the prop of my old age, but he was carriedoff, sir, along with the rest--struck down in the very spring of hisyouth, as you may say. Only nineteen was my poor boy when he was takenfrom me," and my father's eyes moistened as he spoke.

  "Only nineteen!" I exclaimed. "Was he not strong?"

  "Strong, sir! I believe you--strong as a lion," said my father.

  "Dear me!" I said, "it is very strange that his youth and strength didnot resist the malady."

  "So everyone said, sir," replied my father, "but--but he had been ailingfor some time before."

  "What was his complaint before he caught this disease?" I asked.

  "Ah! sir, that's just the point," answered my father. "I sadly fear thatit was an epidemic of a more dangerous sort."

  "How so?" asked I. "What do you mean?"

  "Well, sir, my real opinion is now that the young man was too stronglyattached to a maid whom he couldn't marry, and that undermined hishealth. Then came the epidemic, which he had not sufficient strength toshake off."

  "Ah!" said I, "and why could he not marry her? Was the maidunrelenting?"

  "Not that, exactly, sir. Indeed, I believe she was as much in love withhim, but----"

  "But what?"

  "Well, the fact of the matter is, sir, the girl's father and I ain'tfriends, and neither of us was willing to give our consent. The girl wassent off by her father to live at her aunt's, just to get her out of myson's way. I knew all about this, but I wasn't going to tell the youngman, lest he should take it into his head to run after her, so, thinkingto blunt his passion, I invented the story of her death, saying that shehad been carried off by the epidemic, hoping that after a time, findingshe was no more, that he would cease to think of her. But instead ofthat, he grew worse and worse, and I attribute his death to the lie Itold about his sweetheart's decease."

  "You did very wrong," said I, "not to give your consent."

  "Well, but, sir, if I _had_ given _mine
_, the girl's father would nothave given _his_," replied my father.

  "If you had been the first to make up the quarrel, I have no doubt thathe would have given his consent," said I.

  My father seemed stung with this reproach, and took out his handkerchiefto wipe his eyes.

  "Ah, my poor son! my poor son!" sobbed my father. "What wouldn't I giveto have him back again?"

  "Would you give your consent to his marriage with the girl he loved ifhe could come to life again?" I asked.

  "Ay, sir, that would I, only too gladly," replied my father, "but what'sthe use of talking now that he has gone from me for ever?"

  "You speak like a man without faith," said I. "Have you no belief in anafter life? Have you no hope of meeting him in Heaven?"

  "That is the only hope I have left, sir," said my father, "but in themeantime----"

  "Ah!" said I, "you cannot make up your mind to be consoled for his lossfor the few short years that you have to remain upon earth."

  "Well, sir, it's very hard to bear," said my father.

  "Have you ever prayed?" I asked.

  "Yes, sir," said he, "I say my prayers regularly."

  "But do you say them earnestly?" said I. "Do you believe that if you aska thing that you will receive what you ask for? For instance, if youwere to pray for your son to be restored to life, do you believe that hereally _would_ be restored to life?"

  My father stared in surprise.

  "Well, to tell you the truth, sir, no," he said; "for we all know thatwhen a man has been buried three weeks that he rarely returns. EvenLazarus was but four days under the earth. In fact, the thought ofpraying for his return after his spirit had once been yielded up neveroccurred to me. When David was bereaved of his child by Uriah's wife, hehumbled himself whilst the child was yet alive with sackcloth and ashes,but when he heard that the child was dead, he rose and ate bread. Whatinstance is there on record of one returning to life after being buriedthree weeks?"

  "Pray, nevertheless," said I; "the mercy of God is boundless. Who knowsbut that----"

  "Oh, sir, sir," said my father, shaking his head, "you but mock me; itcannot be."

  "It is impious of you to say it cannot be. Nothing is impossible withGod," said I.

  My father smiled faintly. I saw that he regarded me as a kind of wellmeaning madman, and after lighting my candle, he showed me the way to myroom and shut me in for the night.

  My room was some few doors off from my father's. I undressed and went tobed. I had not been in bed more than an hour when I heard my father'sfootsteps on the stairs. He, too, was going to bed. There was no otherguest in the inn then, and all was quiet.

  I allowed my father a quarter of an hour to get into bed. Then I openedmy chamber door, and listened to hear if he was praying, for he alwaysprayed aloud. I was satisfied that he was praying; what the precisewords were I could not quite distinguish, but I fancied I heard my namementioned once or twice. I returned to my chamber and closed the door. Iallowed my father another hour to go to sleep. When the time hadexpired, I stepped on tip-toe across the passage and turned the handleof his bedroom door noiselessly. I peeped in. All was silent, or ratherhe was snoring loudly. Leaving the door ajar, I went back cautiously tomy chamber to fetch the candle, and then softly and noiselessly Ientered the room where my father lay asleep. I had provided myself witha pinch of salt, which I sprinkled in the flame, so as to give a look ofghostly pallor to my face. Then, tapping my father lightly on theshoulder, he started up in bed.

  "Good heavens!" he cried, with every hair erect on his head--

  "Jack! is it you?"

  He spoke huskily, and his teeth chattered.

  "Hush!" said I, in a sepulchral voice; "listen to me. Because you haveprayed fervently, I have risen from my grave to comfort you. Grieve notfor me, father, for I am happy. I have returned to thank you for havinggiven your consent to my marriage. Molly is now mine in spirit, and Ishall henceforth rest peacefully in my tomb. Farewell."

  I strode towards the door, with long, silent, majestic strides, andclosed it carefully after me, leaving my father staring after me intospace and speechless with terror.

  I was a very young man then, and a reckless devil-may-care sort offellow, otherwise I should not have attempted such a dangerous practicaljoke. The consequences might have been fatal; as it was, my father'snerves were terribly shaken, and I spoilt all his night's rest. When hebrought up my breakfast the next morning in the parlour he looked paleand haggard.

  "What is the matter, good man?" said I, patronisingly, in my usualfeigned voice.

  "Oh, sir!" said my father, excitedly, "I saw him last night!"

  "Saw him!" I exclaimed. "Saw whom?"

  "My son, Jack, sir. Oh, who would have believed it?"

  "What! and has he returned to life, or was it his spirit?"

  "Yes, sir, his ghost," said my father, with a look of awe, and then hebegan relating to me the whole particulars of his son's spiritualapparition.

  "Then you followed my advice, and have been praying?"

  "That I did, sir, with all my heart and soul," said my father.

  "You told me last evening," said I, "that if your son should come tolife again you would give your consent to his marriage. If you reallyrepent having withheld your consent during his lifetime let me see thatyour repentance is true by writing me the following words and affixingyour signature."

  "What words, sir, must I write?" he asked.

  "Write," said I, "'If my son is restored to me I will give my consent tohis marriage, with the girl of his choice,' that is what you have towrite."

  "But--but--" began my father.

  "Write what I tell you, and affix your signature," said I, gruffly.

  "As you like, sir," said he, complying with my request. I blotted thesheet of paper, and placed it in my pocket.

  "Now, sir," said I to my father, "I have a secret to tell you. Do notfaint, but be prepared for a shock."

  My father looked at me in astonishment.

  "Your son lives," said I.

  "What do I hear?--my son--my son lives?" he exclaimed, staggeringbackwards. Then recovering somewhat his composure, he asked, "But how? Imyself saw him laid in the ground; besides, I tell you I saw his ghostlast night."

  "That was nothing but a distempered dream brought on by our conversationbefore you retired to rest," said I. "I tell you your son lives--he isin my care. Listen; but what I am about to tell you, you must keep toyourself, otherwise it will damage my reputation. Hearing that your sonhad been buried, I, being a doctor and in want of a subject fordissection, employed resurrectioners or body-snatchers to procure meyour son's body. They stole it from his grave and brought it to myhouse. When I began to dissect I found that he was not yet dead. He hasbeen at my house ever since, still very weak from his recent illness. Hehas related to me his love affair, and knows of the deception that youpractised upon him. He begged me to procure for him his father's consentto his marriage, otherwise, he said he might die in real earnest."

  "Oh, doctor, doctor!" cried my father, "can it be true? Oh, say that youare not jesting with me. Do not trifle with the feelings of a poor man!"

  "I never trifle," I replied, with dignity.

  "Then it is true, doctor, really true! O God be praised," and he claspedhis hands convulsively, whilst the tears ran down his cheeks.

  Suddenly his ecstasy abated, and he grew serious.

  "What is the matter?" I asked.

  "Oh, but, doctor, if--if after all what I saw last night were not adream--if whilst during your absence from home, my son really has died,and appeared to me last night to let me know. What proof have you thatthe vision of my son last night _was_ a dream?" he asked.

  "What proof?" I exclaimed. "_This_ proof," I cried, throwing off mydisguise and speaking in my own natural voice again. "Behold me, father,risen from the dead!"

  My father's surprise, consternation and joy was beyond all description.

  "What!" he cried, "and are you really Jack risen from the
grave? Come,let me touch you to be sure you are no ghost.

  "Ha! ha! Ha! ha! ha!" he laughed, hysterically. "What! Jack, my boy, Isee it all. Ha! ha! ha! ha!" and he wept upon my shoulder till I thoughthe'd go off in a fit.

  "Hush! father," I cried, "and calm yourself. My resurrection must be asecret between us two, for motives of policy. Do you understand?"

  "Why a secret?" he asked.

  "Never mind now; that is part of my plan. If you tell a single soulyou'll spoil all, and I am a ruined man," I said.

  "I understand nothing of all this, Jack," said my father, "but you maycount upon my secrecy; but I say, Jack, how long must I keep the secret,for I am burning to tell everyone in the village?"

  "For Heaven's sake, hold your tongue," said I, "until I give youpermission to let it out, or I am ruined for life."

  "Well, well, Jack, mum's the word," said my father.

  I then resumed my disguise and prepared to leave the inn.

  "Why, what the devil are you going to be up to now?"

  "Mum's the word," said I. "You shall know all when I return. Good-bye,father," and off I started.

  I busied myself a good deal about getting everything in order for thewedding, and returned to H----, where without further bother I wasmarried at the village church.

  Fearful that if I threw off my disguise before the wedding thatsomething or other, I could not tell what or from what quarter, wouldmar all and prevent the marriage just at the last moment, after havingbeen so successful up to this time, this feeling, or presentiment ofharm, vague as it was, induced me to keep on my disguise all through theceremony, but when it came to signing my name in the register, I signedmy real name--"John Hearty."

  This created some sensation.

  The aunt wanted me to explain myself. However, we hurried back to theaunt's house, where we at once threw off my disguise, explained all, andcraved pardon for the deception I had practised upon her.

  At first the aunt seemed a little cold. She was hurt at the deceptionbeing carried on so long.

  There was no necessity for such tricks, she said, if she had been toldall at the beginning; nothing would have been known to anyone else.

  "Do you think I would trust a woman's tongue?" I said. "Come, now,aunt," I said, "though I am not a doctor, I did you quite as much goodas a court physician could have done you. Yes, although the medicine wasonly liquorice water mixed up with other harmless filth."

  "In that, too, I've been imposed upon, then," murmured the aunt.

  "Nevertheless, I cured you," retorted I; "you yourself admitted it, andwhat is more, I took no fee."

  Soon, however, Molly's aunt recovered her good humour, and all passedoff with a hearty laugh.

  The only difficulty now was to reconcile ourselves with Molly's father.The comedy was nearly at an end. I donned my disguise once more, and westarted off together after the wedding breakfast to our native village,and driving up to old Sykes' house, we knocked at the door.

  We entered, and I introduced myself as his son-in-law. He received uswell, and wished us both health and prosperity. I did not know exactlyhow to break the ice, so I reflected a moment.

  "Mr. Sykes," said I, still in my feigned voice, "I shall expect you thisevening to dine with me at six o'clock at the 'Headless Lady.' Come, Iwill take no refusal. If we are to be friends together, I shall expectyou, if not----"

  He began to make an excuse about his gouty leg, saying that he neverleft the house.

  "Oh, nonsense," said I, "that is just the reason you never get well.Going out now and then will do you good. I am a doctor, you know, and Iadvise you for your good. If you do not like to walk, make use of ourcoach."

  He still hesitated, and at length said, "Well, the fact is, I never goto that house. The landlord and I are not friends. We have had somedifferences together of long standing, and----"

  "Nonsense," said I, "that is no excuse at all. All men have differencesnow and then, but we must learn to forget and forgive."

  "No," said Sykes; "he was very much in the wrong."

  "Well, I've no doubt that he thinks you are in the wrong," said I. "Dinewith me this evening there, and I'll undertake to make matters straightfor you both. Hearty is a good and honest man, and is one of my bestfriends. I have known him these nineteen years. If you refuse to come,it will be an offence to me, mind that."

  After a time I succeeded in softening him down a little, till I atlength drew from him a reluctant consent, and, according to his word, heappeared that evening at our inn.

  A grand dinner was prepared, before partaking of which I succeeded injoining the hands of the two bitter enemies.

  Seeing that the hour had arrived for the divulging of the secret Iexplained all in a few words, threw off my disguise and craved hisblessing.

  Old Sykes was a crusty sort of a cove, and I expected that there wouldhave been a scare, but we had got him into a good humour previously, andhe was so much amused, in spite of himself, at the whole scheme that hewrung my hand heartily and laughed much over my odd adventures.

  Dinner passed off gaily, and I secretly put the doctor in possession ofhis old clothes again. I paid him the money I owed him, and for everkept secret the name of the doctor who had brought me to life again socleverly.

  * * * * *

  "Why, Jack," said Mr. Oldstone, at the conclusion of our host's recital,"you can tell a story like the best of us."

  "Ay, that he can indeed," chimed in Mr. Crucible and Mr. Hardcase.

  "There is a great deal of poetry in Jack's story," remarked Mr.Parnassus.

  Mr. Blackdeed said that it ought to be adapted to the stage.

  "And was it ever discovered who unearthed you, Jack?" inquired Dr.Bleedem, who had a fellow feeling for the Dr. Slasher of Jack'snarrative, as he could imagine what his own feelings would have been hadhe fallen a victim to the infuriated villagers.

  "No, sir," replied our host, "I never let out the truth, although I waspestered with questions all day long by every one in the village. Atlength, however, an old doctor in these parts died from the epidemic,and after his death, I gave out to the villagers that he was the man whohad dug me up."

  "Ah!" said Dr. Bleedem, "there was no harm in that."

  "And the two body-snatchers, did you ever see _them_ again?" askedProfessor Cyanite.

  "Ha! ha!" laughed our host, "and that _was_ a joke, surely. One evening,shortly after my resurrection, leastways before everyone knew that I hadcome to life again, I was strolling through the cemetery alone where Ihad been buried, and sitting down upon my own grave, I began meditatingupon my miraculous escape from death, when who should pass by but my twofriends, Tom and Bill. I looked up as they passed. You should have seenhow they took to their heels. My eyes! I shall never forget it."

  "That was a rare joke, indeed," said our artist, "and that other youngfellow, young Rashly, did you see any more of him?"

  "Ay, sir," replied our host, "and that was another good joke. The Sundayafter our marriage I appeared in the village church with Molly. How thepeople did stare, to be sure! I recognised young Rashly in the Squire'spew with his father. He could not see me, as I was behind a pillar, andhe had not yet heard of my coming to life again. Seeing that he waswithout a hymn book, I stepped out suddenly from my pew, and crossingthe aisle, offered him mine. I never shall forget his face. He turned aspale as a ghost, and was obliged to support himself against the back ofthe pew. He was nigh fainting, and his father was obliged to lead himout of church."

  "Your resurrection must have made quite a sensation in the villagethen," said McGuilp.

  "My word, it did, sir, and no mistake," answered the landlord."Everybody in the village and for miles round it wanted to shake me bythe hand and welcome me back to life. People used to come from longdistances to hear me recount my adventures, till I grew quite sick ofit, and shut myself up and wouldn't see nobody."

  "Ay, ay, tedious work I've no doubt, telling the same story over andover again to every new come
r," said Mr. Oldstone. "But tell us, Jack,did young Rashly ever discover who it was that gave him the thrashing?"

  "Yes, sir, that, too, came out in time," said our host, "and devilishsheepish he looked, so they said, when he heard it was his old rival indisguise. He would have liked to have had me up about it before theassizes, but he didn't like the idea of exposing himself, and so thematter dropped. After a time, however, finding that all the boys in thevillage laughed at him whenever he walked abroad, he went to London, andI have never heard anything more of him."

  At this moment someone knocked at the door.

  "Come in!" called out several voices at once.

  The door opened ajar, and the head of our hostess timidly appeared atthe aperture.

  "Beg pardon, gentlemen," said that worthy dame, "but could Helen bespared a little just to help me a bit?"

  "Oh! how very annoying!" cried our artist, "just as the weather isclearing up and I was making up my mind for a long sitting."

  "I am afraid I can't do without her, sir, just now," said our hostess,"but if you wouldn't mind waiting an hour or so, she will be atliberty."

  "An hour without Helen!" exclaimed several members at once. "Oh,impossible! and then to be snatched from us again so soon!"

  "I'll tell you what it is, Mr. McGuilp, and you, too, Dame Hearty," saidMr. Oldstone, "you are to blame, both of you. Such conduct can't besuffered to go unpunished; therefore, in the name of the club I condemnyou both to contribute to the common entertainment by telling a story,each of you, when next called upon."

  "Hear, hear!" cried several voices.

  "Yes, a story from Dame Hearty, and a still longer one from Mr. McGuilpfor having robbed us of Helen--a most just sentence!"

  "Oh, gentlemen!" said our hostess modestly. "You wouldn't care to hearany of my stories; besides, I've forgotten them all long ago."

  "Come now, Dame Hearty, there is no backing out," said Mr. Oldstone. "Asentence is a sentence."

  "Well, sir, if it must be so, I'll try and think of one whenever thegentlemen of this respectable club choose to command my services. Come,Helen!" And our hostess led away her fair daughter by the hand amidstthe groans of her ardent admirers.

  "Now, Mr. McGuilp," said Mr. Oldstone as the door closed after Helen andher mother, "we have a full hour before us. I call upon you to fill upthat period to the satisfaction of the club."

  "Yes, yes!" shouted a chorus of voices; "out with it; no mercy on him.Let justice be done."

  "Well, gentlemen, if you will allow me a moment to compose myself, I'llendeavour to satisfy you," said our artist. Then resting his head on hishand as if to call up from the depths of his memory some long-forgottentale or legend, he said, "Gentlemen, I recollect a story in our family,handed down to me from some remote ancestor. I used to be frightenedwith it in my childhood. It is long ago now since I heard it related,but I will endeavour to give it you as perfectly as possible after thelapse of so many years."

  "Well, we're all attention," said one of the members.

  Then our artist, after stretching himself, folded his arms and commencedthe following tale--