Five Cent Wide Awake Library (vol. 1) (1879 03 10)
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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1819, by FRANK' TOUSEY, tm the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. @. THEFIVE CENT Entered af the Post Ofice at New York, N, ¥., as Second Class Matter. Vol. I { COMPLETE, } March 10, 1879. FRANK TOUSEY, PUBLISHER, 18 Rosr Srrent, N. Y. Subscription Price $2.50 per year, -ARKAWAY AND THE BLACK” BAND, CHAPTER I. THE CHALLENGE, ___ Hanxawax had been accustomed to some wild scenes *~Guring his life, but the confusion that reigned in his pen: ed all his experience. PRICE 5 CENTS, i monks of old, what a jovial crew were they; for they laughed ha! ha! and they quaffed ’—“ Wine, sir, is the root of all evil. If there were no wines at this univer- sity, Oxford would be’’—“ The worst place in the world for aman to goto. I haye no hesitation in saying that London isa sink of iniquity, in which revel”—“ Tha bishops of the church are the defenders of the faith, and he of Oxtord—I mean the immortal Wilberforce, has | truly said ”’— Champagne Charlie is my name,’ etc., Jack dextrously struck the sword from his opponent’s hand and inflicted a severe wound on his lordship. making J _ Malfa dozen men were standing on chairs, speeches one against the other. They fancied they wore at-the “ Union,” taking part a debate. Others again singing songs, and joining in choruses 3 ‘ifasion of tongues. ~ The effect was something like this : _ “Lay, sir, and I will repeat it again and again, with _U the emphasis that such an important subject de- | ands, that William Ewart Gladstone is’’"—‘ The mere aye of the Tory party, for ’’—‘ Many have told of the ES , | they could lay their hands on. ‘tha heartiness that made a sort of small Babel or Por Hb te a ing-gown and putting them over the chimney of the lamp to burn. again burning holes in the carpet. Other men again were doing their little worst to ack’s property. It seemed to be their object to destroy everything g cigarettes by tearing leaves out of is Livy.” y Another was cutting strips of cloth out of his dress- oO A third had the poker red-hot in the fire, and new and A fourth was breaking all the crockery in the cups board with the tongs. The man laughed idiotically at each smash. ui I say, Carden,” exclaimed Jack, “I can’t stand is.” “Tt's rather neat, isn’t it ?” said Carden, laughing. § “Help me to clear the room, will you ?” “Think of the laws of hospitality, my dear fellow.™ “That be panged ; think of my belongings.’ “Very well. How shall we begin ?” said Carden. sh | “Chuck them out, one by one.’’ “Allright. Pitchin. Ill start with the poker cove, You'll want a new carpet to-morrow.” “Bother the carpet,” said Jack, seizing @ man who — boring a hole in the cushion of a chair with a fruit nife, He soon dragged him to the door and deposited bim m the landing. Then he went back for another. He passed Carden on the way, who carried fwo—one in each hand,
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? ‘Lhe men were too far gone to show fight, and took their expulsion very quietly. In about tén minutes the room was cleared. The oak/was sported. =4 Jacks looked round dismally on the scene of devasta- tion. Ruined furniture, broken mirrors, cracked glasses, smashed crockery met his gaze everywhere. f The men outside began to kick at the door, and bo- gan to vociferate loudly, “, “Kick away, you beauties, you don't come in here,” said Carden, with a quiet smile. “No; ’miiggered if they do,” said Jack. “What do you think of your first wine ?” “Not much, Ican tell you. My first shall be my last,” said Jack. “St, Aldate’s is coming to someting,’ remarked Carden. ‘We have the reputation of being the fastest couse in Oxford, and by Jove, we are trying to deserve’ our designation.” . ‘*Hayen’t they made a clean sweap of it, that’s all?” “Rather. Inever saw such havoc, It’s awful,” said Carden, adding, “ Where did you get your stuff from?” “My wine? Oh, it’ssome of the most expensive I sould buy.” : “Thatisit. Youngsters’ nuts are not up to swell wines, and the result of your extravagance is a smash up. Hark at the beggars. What a row they are making.” : “Can't we duck them or something ?” “Let's try. I'll open the oak while you send a pail of water over them,”’ “Suppose they storm the castle and get in again?” = “They shan’t do that,” said Carden, - “I'll guard the oor.” ~ Jack saw a large pail of dirty water, left by the scout, after washing up some things. Seizing itin his vigorous grasp, and getting his hand well under the bottom, he followed Carden, The door was opened and as quickly shut. But, short as had been the interval, Jack had dis- charged the contents of the pail full in the face of a mob of howling men, There was a rush backwards. j Then a renewed attack on the solid oak. This was accompanied with naughty words and a fierce yelling, - “Vire away,’’ said Jack, adding: a All right. Will you have the bed? and I'll take the rug.!’ “Don't put yourself outon my account. Give mea blanket, and I shall be as jolly asa sandboy in less than no time.” Jack speedily rugged him up on the sofa, and by degrees the noisy men outside dispersed, retiring to their rooms. a a short time both Harkaway and Carden were asleep. : They did not turn up at chapel in the morning. Tha no unusual occurrence with the fast set. Monday and Buster groaned when they entered the room and saw the hayoc that had been done. The scout was used to that sort of thing. : He had seen what we may call several generations of university men. “i a a rule, young men at Oxford are very much alike. 3 What is done in one man’s time is done in an- other's. . ; : So Buster set to work like a Philosopher to put things straight. " Hoe emptied the wine out of the boots and the clock, cleared away the remains of the orgie, turned the carpet, so that the burnt holes would not be seen, put the injured chairs in the background, and ina couple of hours the room looked as if nothing extraordinary had happened. At ten o’clock a yery decent breakfast stood on the table, consisting of cold game, hot fish, Stras- bourg patties, honey in the comb, tea and coffee, with other trifles. Then he found some soda and brandy, which he gave first to Carden, who drank it eagerly, ; “Did it hiss as it went down, Buster?’ asked Carden. F “Didn't hear it, sir,” said thescout. “Ts Mr. Harkaway up ?’” “Not yet, sir. Soon make him him show a leg.” He went as he spoke with some more soda and brandy to his master, who speedily turned out of ‘‘Here, you Monday, Tuesday,’’ cried Tom Carden, “bring me some soap and water, towels, etc. Isup- pose you haven't got a spare tub ?”” “Only one, sare, and Mist’ Harkaway him in it,” replied Monday. ‘ Hark how um splash about, sare.” “‘In fact, Jack was in his bath, making a noise like a sportive porpoise. r Carden soon dressed himself, and was joined by Jack at the breakfast table, , { f * The London «papers had just arrived, and were laid out on the table. Everything was in excellent order, “Wonderful man, Buster,” exclaimed Jack. “Ho's eleared the wreek away in a marvelous manuer.” “He's used to it. Aren’t you, old villain?’ asked Carden. “Ought to be by this time, sir,” said Buster. “I’ve seen a fow things in my time. Spent almost all my life in the ‘varsity, but this here spree last night was : age ae Aare ES ie Bol fis the way from Stras- ourg, sir. ade of geese’s livers, sir, they’ and werry nice, too,” P p PN AMT SA BO BARKAWAY AND TRE BLACK BAND. \ up. " z ee Ni Cert’ny, sir. Don’t presume to know more than you, sir.” 0 fe * You old humbug, why, I’ll bet that, in your wicked old heart, your are saying to yourself that you have forgotten twenty years ago more than I have ever known.” =F “Yes, sir, wouldn’t like to contradict a gentleman like you, sir. ’Seuse me, sir, knock at the door.’”” “ Answer it then, and keép your confounded tongue quiet. You know I hate you.” ” The scout went to the door, and same back saying: “ Mr. Kemp, sir.’ ° “Kemp ?”? repeated Jack. “Yes, sir.” “Say I won't see him.’? ae “He says he’s come from Lord Tollington, sir. “Tollington?’' repeated Jack, adding to Oarden, “wasn’t he at my wine last night?” e “Of course he was. Don’t you remember what happened?" | “Not much. I was so upset with the attack on Manasses, and the riot afterwards, I am rather fogged.” t “You punched his head, or something.’” “Qh, yes, Precellect now. Ask Mr.Kemp enough to step in,” said Jack, Kemp entered, looking round him defiantly. “Do you want me?’ asked Jack. ‘5 “T suppose so, or Ishould not have called,” replied Kemp. ES Yon needn’t be insolent my good fellow, or you will get out a deuced sight quicker than you came in.”’ T wasn’t drunk to be good “That depends upon circumstances. last night.” “Do you mean to say I was?’ asked Jack. “Draw what inference youlike from my words. I come from Lord Tollington,’’ “What of that?" : “You willknow directly, if you will listen.” “Go ahead,” said Jack. “You insulted his lordship grossly last night and struck him.” “Very possible. Iam rather hazy about the affair, butifIdid hit him, I’ll lay six to four he deserved it.”’ “That is not the question. Lord Tollingtom has sent me to demand satisfaction.” ; “ What?” exclaimed Jack. “ Satisfaction.” ‘ “Do you mean that he wants to'fight a duel with ‘me ?” ‘ “Ido,” answered Kemp. «“ But dueling is illegal in thi country,” « He is willing to chance that.’’ “Ts he?” said Jack, thoughtfully. “If you will not accept the challenge he has sent you by me, he says he will publicly horsewhip you, and brand you as a coward all over Oxford.” “Indeed I” “You may sneer, but you would not like to have bills printed and posted everywhere advertising your cowardice,” said Kemp. . *“ Perhaps you would post them ?’”” “ certainly should have no objection,” replied Kemp coolly. Jack stared at him in a puzzled sort of manner. At length he said: “JT am at breakfast now ; would you have any ob- jection to come back again in an hour?” “Not at all. I will do so with pleasure.” “J will have you an answer then.” «Allright. Iam simply the friend of Lord Tolling- ton, and Lave no wish to ba disagreeable,’ said Kemp. “Open the door for this gentleman,” said Jack. CHAPTER II, s NEGOTIATIONS. -“ Hrem’s a pretty go,” said Jack, “Well, what of it,’” replied Carden. “Fellows go and kick up arow in my room, want to beat a poor old Jew. I punch one man’s head, and I get a challenge to fight a duel.” “Tt isn’t pleasant certainly.” “Not at all.” “Shall you fight 2” : “That's exactly what I want to ask you,” replied Jack. ‘You have been up here longer than J, and you ought toknow the manners and customs of tho place and be able to advise me what to do.’”” “I must confess,” said Carden, “that Inever heard of men fighting duels. Oh! yes, I did, though ; 1 man shot another years ago and bolted to Spain. Tollington is a very proud fellow; he belongs to one of the oldest families in the kingdom. Catholies,I think they are, and he evidently means fighting.”’ The law will take your side, Itis an offense to send achallenge ; the po- lice will have him up in no time. “Can't stand police cases,” said Jack, “ they are low.’” “Now I think of it, Tollington is reckoned a dead shot.” : ~“Tshe? I’m nota bad hand with a gun, but a pistol is a different thing.’’ “Tell you what I saw him do fora wager once,” con- tinued Carden. “He stuck a nine of diamonds on the wall, and at twenty paces he hit each pip im succes- sion.” “That's not bad ; I’m in for it,” replied Jack. “Oan you fence ?” asked his friend. . “Yos.”” we f Well?" ‘ “Pretty well. I know the passes, and can luage in tiérce or quarte, and all that sort of thing. They used ce ni Lmade’rather pretty play with a sword,” replied ack, ¥ “That’s your sort then,” cried Carden, gleefully, ~ “What do you know about it, you vagabond? Shut, ” noe can stand, “ Tollington is not much of a fencer ; Iheard him sa, 4 os dill “7 “But suppose his lordship chooses pistol Sa we ‘(He hagn’t the choice, poconae Tc all usage. You, - 0 vided it is something of a civilized nature.” —— : “Hurrah!” cried Jack ; ‘that will do. Ishan’t ba made cold meat of this time." 2 a geil 8 “ Leave it all tome. I will do theneedful with you) “Will you be my second ?” ¢ “Of course I will; didn’t I say so? Wl get th I know where to spot Just the pair of irons you will want.’’ E A manage the affair forme. As he has Challenged me, { must fight, and I’m glad. it is not with pistols, because swords,” f “SoTthink, Keep yourself quiet, and refer Kemp 80 once.” } ag the challenged, may select yi own weapon, pro- ’ and talk toKemp.”’ swords and igi a couple of Toledes—beauties, “I shall be indebted to you all my life if you will there is less chance of killing one another with to me when he returns. I'll talk to him like a Dutch , uncle,’ said Carden. “Thanks, old: boy ; Ishan’t forget you.” ‘ “You'll pink this fighting sprig of nobility, and take some of the courage out.of him.”” As he spoke, Monday again ushered in Kemp. “Am I too soon?” he asked, “Not at all,” replied Jack. “Oh, I thought you looked as if you conldn’t make your mind up whether to be shot or kicked,” said — Kemp, insolently. t A “This language to me in my own rooms is unpardon- — able, Mr. Kemp,” cried Jack; “and were you not § messenger from Lord Tollington, I should turn you ~ out.” ‘ “An easy way of getting out of a difficulty,” sneered Kemp, “As it is,’’ said Jack, advancing threateningly to- wards Kemp, “I shall request Lord Tollington to send me a gentleman next time, not a swindler.” To Jack’s taunt Kemp replied :\ “Thank you, You can have another duel meif Tollington doesn’t settle you.” “T wouldn’t go out with you.” Sg ea “Really, gentlemen,” exclaimed Carden, “I must in terpose between you. Harkaway, you are wrong to — take any notice of Mr. Kemp, and you, sir, hayo be- haved in a scandalous manner, which I will take care — is reported to your principal.” sey “Didn't mean anything,” said Kemp, abashed at this reproof. ‘Mr. Harkaway never loses an oppor: tunity of snacking at me,’’ ae “ Be good enough to confine yourself to the business in hand.” : “J suppose that’s soon settled. You don’t mean _ fighting. It's against the law, and so on. I'd better go on to the saddler’s, and order Tollington a new whip.” “By Jove! Carden,” he cried, on with — “this is more than I This fellow wants the to hit him.” reg eg got between Jack and Kemp, keeping them — apart. a “Do you refer, Mr. Kemp, to mo in this affair 2” he aaid. ‘ rs ae st ne oblige me by sitting down while we negoti- ate.’ A xX aes Jack sat down in his chair again, lit his’ pipe and smoked sullenly, while he glared savagely at Kemp, aa 2 be would have liked to have half an hour's pounding at him. ale “Now, Myr. Kemp,” continued Carden, “I have the pleasure of informing you that Mr. Harkaway has ac- cepted Lord ToMington’s challenge.” > : “Really 1” said Kemp, evidently surprised. “Perhaps both of you thought he would not listen | to aug 4 proposal. You are mistaken if that was yous. elief.’”* \7 : “ Pistols, I suppose ?” 4 ee ‘On the contrary | we have decided upon swords.” “But Tollington particularly wishes to use hi triggers,”’ said Kemp. a " a “I cannot control his lordship’s inclinations,’ am swered Carden, blandly, “I presume, however, th: you are aware tho choice of weapons lies with m’ friend, Mr. Harkaway ?” “Why?” “Because he is the party challenged.” “ Very well ; I suppose it is all right. Forge aha: “The place must be settled between you and me, well as the time, etc.’” 7 ‘“What do you propose?” said Kemp, who appean Scaratly. crestfallen at the turn of affairs - wel aken. - “Place, a hayfield a mile or so out of Sanford on the highxoad; there is a slack near the gate. Do you know it?” : “Yes, that will do.” os Mc “Time, six o'clock to-morrow morning.” continued Carden. “ Sl “Very well,” said Kemp, “TI will bring weapons, swords, remember, length.” “Do you think Iwould give Tollington # longer’ sword than Harkaway,” said Kemp, with assumed indignation, Sorta: “I don't say anything of the kind, but mistakes are — possible, and Imean to guard againat them,” replied Carden, adding, ‘is there any further matter that we can debate?” “No ; it’s all settled.” Are “Keep it dark then. We don’t want half Oxford looking on. Better bring a doctor with you though.” — “What for? You haven’t killed my man already.” ‘No ; but we mean to have a try for it,” said Carden, “Besides, a doctor is useful to both pawties. Will you bring one, or shall we ?” . “ We will,” answered Kemp. ; or you may do so. The must be measured, and be of equal y
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“That will do. As we shall not utter aword toa smaman being, we shall know that if spectators are present, or the police interfere, that. it is from your side the Snigenation has come; understand that, if you please, Mr. Kemp.” “We mean fighting quite as much as you do,” an- swered Kemp; ‘‘so you needn’t flurry your fat about us splitting.” “ Good-morning. gentleman.” When Kemp was gone, Jack exclaimed : “Tcan breathe again, now that vulgar brute is out of the the room.” ie “SocanI. Open the window; let us purify,” “«Tan’t it odd that when there is anything unpleasant going on with regard to myself, that fellow Kemp is aure to hayo a finger in the pie ?” “Ttis. He manages to get hold of one fellow after another. I heard he was working Lord Tollington, who isa freshman, and getting money out ot him at biHierds and by betting.” “Shouldn't wonder,’ said Jack, * if-he put Tolling- _ ton up to the idea of a duel.” p “* Very likely. Now look here, old man. I’ll go and get the fencing irons, and we'll havea, bout together. You must keep quist. No excitement to-day, mind,” said Card “T don’t want to kill Monday, open the door for this en. “« All right,” answered Jack. my opponent, but I should like to give him a lesson,” “ Tf you do kill him by an unlucky thrust, you will have to bolt abroad,” d “Shall 1?” : “Undoubtedly. Dueling is illegal. Ifa man kill an- ‘other in a duel, the law says itis murder, and you will either be hanged or imprisoned for life.” “Nice prospect, that,’ replied Jack, with a sickly smile. “I begin to think | am in for a good thing.” _ €Deuced nasty wncomfortable thing; but you must pull through it somehow.” “Y’m not funking,” Jack replied. “ Only an affair of this sort makes one rather solemn.” He went for the swords, and returned in about half an hour with two beauties, light, delicate, well-temper- ed, and elastic as whalebone. ; They immedictely had a set-to, and Tom Carden ex- pressed himself satisfied hen, at the expiration of an hour, they left off. ; “TJ learnt fencing when I was at Eton under Angelo, the best man in England,” he answered, “You fence well,” said Jack, ‘‘ andno mistake,’? “Yes, Iwas considered agood hand atit. Iwon the fois in my year.”’ - “IT must really thank you for putting me up to sev- » eral wrinkles,” continued Jack. “That feint of yours in tierce, and the lunge afterwards is splendid.” “ Generally so considered, It lays your adversary open to you; and if you watch your opportunity, you rannot help splitting him through the right arm, near the shoulder-blade,’” R “In Germany, | believe the students always settle their disputes with the sword.” _* Yes, but they only hit in the face. It is not fair to _ tike anywhere else, and that accounts for the hideous "cars so many Germans have on their faces.” ” * Well,” said Jack, “ I look forward with the hope to ~ the future. Shall I make my will ?” “You've got nothing to leave, have you ?”” “ Not till the governor croaks. Oh, yes, there is the monkey,” replied Jack, with a laugh. ‘ “Let him takahis chance. He's all safe with Molo.” “There is just this little portrait ot Emily,” said Jack; “the one in my locket. If anything should hap- _ pen, give it to her, will you?” ; “You are miles off being what doctors and underta- a hi astiff un,” replied Carden. ‘ But I'll think ezO| {7 — ‘ He did not conclude the sentence, Jack's life was in the hands of a merciful Providence. Everything genpaced on the morrow on a cool head endasteady hand, 9 did not wish to frighten him. CHAPTER Mit, THE DUEL, r hall, Jack went out to take aconstitutional. . file he was gone for his walk, Harvey came to Car- prooms, and found him indulging in black coffee | randy, smoking a very big cigar, and lolling lazily ow do, Carden?” said Harvey. “Seen anything a a Yes ; he’s gone for a stroll.” f * Oh, I wondered where he was. Monday said he had not been in since hall, and couldn’t make out where he bad got to.’ ‘ “Do you want him ?” “Well, yes, I do.’’ “Anything important ?” “To him it is,’’ “Well, then, postpone it till to-morrow morning to | oblige me.” “ Why ?” asked Harvey, . “have my,xeasons.”’ ~ *Qan’t you tell a fellow ?”” | “No, not now. » You will-know all at brearfast time / fo morrow morning ; but what is the news 2” “Well, as you are so uncommunicative I don’t see _ why Ishould open my mouth any more than you.” “You are Harkaway’s friend, are you not ?” -_ “Lhopeso. We were schoolfellows together, and I | ion’t suppose itis any secret that if it had not been for A Jack's kindness I should not be up at Oxford now.” ) ‘*Very well, then; you must not excite him to- Spright. 1 te itis all very well:to puzzle a man by talking in ‘his enigmatical manner,” remarked Harvey, peevishly. Al Can't you tell us what's on?” in F a k MARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND. “Can’t you tell me? The thing cuts both ways.” “J won’t speak unless you do.” ; “Tf you'll speak first, I’ll enlighten you afterwards. Will that do, exacting beast ?’’ replied Carden. “All right. A servant has been over here from Oakley Wood. “Where is that?’ “ Oh, a few miles out of Oxford.” «Who lives there? Jamin the dark,” “ thought you knew,’ said Harvey. ‘It is Mr. Traver’s place, and Emily is governess there.”’ “ Who is Emily ?"? «Why, Jack’s young lady. You call yourself a friend of .Harkaway’s, and you hayen’t heard of her.” ‘Perhaps I have. Imay have forgotten ; anyhow, I don’t remember.” “Emily and Jack were engaged a long time ago, be- fore we got wrecked in the China seas ; he saved her from alot of perils; her people are dead, and she has gone outas a governess rather than be dependent on Jack’s people. Now do you see 2” “ Jetwigger—that is to say, I twig,’ said Carden. “Well, Emily has suddenly disappeared, and no one. knows where she has gone to.” ‘ “Der teuffel,’’ exclaimed Carden, who seemed in the humor of making experiments in foreign language. “What may that mean in English ?” Carden pointed to the floor with his finger. “Gentleman down stairs. Name begins with D and ends with L. We never mention him in polite society,” “Oh, I know, the d——- Call him Satan ; it sounds better,” said Harvey. / “ These disappearances are becoming the rage,’’ said Carden, ‘‘First of all Miss Hilda Manasses yanishes from the festive scene, then the gentle Emily is non est. It is a case for the police.” “Won't Jack be upset, that’s all.” “Tshould think so.” “He'll rave and tear like a mad bull,’* “ Enough to make him, and that is just why I don’t want the news to reach him till to-morrow. ho be- sides you saw the messenger from Oakley Wood 2?” ““No one.” “ Are you sure?” “Well, Monday ushered the servant in while I was sittingin Jack’s rooms, but he did not hear a word that passed. Mrs, Travers wished to inquire if Miss Emily had been to Oxford to see Mr. Harkaway, as she knew they were engaged, and Emily had been missing since breakfast time.’’ , “Lsee. It's allright... Not a syllable of this. must reach Harkaway,’s ears.’ “Why ?”? “He is going to fight a duel with swords to-morrow . morning.” Harvey jumped out of his chair in amazement. “Now you're joking,” he exclaimed. “Am 1? I'll take my oath I was never more serious in-my life.” ““Who with 2?” “Lord Tollington.”” “Oh, I heard something about him slipping into Tollington. So they are going to fight, eh?” «“Tollington challenged him.” “Why didnjt you stopit?” . ° “Simply because I could notdoso, His lordship said he would publicly insult him if he did not accept the challenge. Fighting with swords is not always fatal, and I thought that itt was best to let it come off.’’ «Jack can fence a little,” said Harvey, thoughtfully, . “A good deal, you mean; he’s all there atit. Now you see why Ldon't want him upset.” “Of course. Are you his second?” “T have that distinguished honor.” «T wonder he did not come to me,’ said, Harvey, a little hurt. “But I’m pleased to think he isin good hands.”’ “The fact is the whole thing was unexpected. I was sitting in Harkaway’s rooms when Kemp brought in the challenge, and he asked me to manage it for him.” “So Kemp’s in it?” “Yes.” “Then. they have gotit up for Harkaway betweer them; they’ll do him some injury before they have done with him. Ineyer saw such determined enemies as he has got.” e “There shall be nothing unfair on this occasion,” an- swered Carden. ‘I promise you I will see him safely through it.” ; i “Oan I come ?”” “No; Lam sorry to say that wo have pledged our- selves to have no one on the ground but the principals, seconds, and the doctor.” “Tf 1 can’t, I can’t,” said Harvey; “but I should like to see it all. If Tollington hurts Jack, Ill fight him myself.” “So you shall,” replied Carden ; * but I hope it will be the other way.” Harvey stayed alittle longer in Carden’s room, but did not attempt to see Jack that evening. Fighting a duel is a very serious matter. The intelligence he had to communicate would have unnerved Harkaway and given his opponent an adyan- tage over him, Therefore, he felt persuaded that Carden was right in asking him to postpone the delivery of the news until the following day. \ The night passed anxiously for all concerned. Jack woke up more than once, having had bad dreams, but at half-past four, when his second, who had not pttcnpatech to sleep, came to his bedside, he sprang up eagerly. Pr Tsit Bema to make a start?’ he said. “Yos } we haye some distance to drive.” « Where is the trap ?” ; “At the stable. 1 will be ready at fivesharp. How do you feel?” “i “Fresh as paint,” answered Jack, “Stand on one side while I roll into my tub,” 3 Carden got out of the way, and Jack peaget into the invigorating water, sponging himself and splashing . about sportively. In ten minutes he was dressed. It was a lovely May morning. The sun had just risen as they reached the stable, and the air was warm and genial. They found the dog-cart waiting them, got in—Car- den handling the ‘‘ ribbons,” as he playfully called the mala afat they were soon spanking along the Iffley road. é a was half afraid you wouldn’t} wake,” remarked ack. ; j “No more I did.” “Some one called you, then ?”” “Wrong again. I did not go to sleep, There wasa Van John party going on in Seymour's rooms, so I tod- dled over, won a fiver, and left them at it.” “By Jove! Your nerves must be strong,’”” “Thopeso, If they were not they would not be of much use to me,’’ answered Carden, with a smile. As they went along, Tom gave his companion a few words of final instruction and encouragement. “You are both of you young and full of wind,” he said, ‘so the chances, are Tollington will last as long ag you. It’s no use trying to hit hard with a sword, as if you were playing at single-stick. Rely upon skill, and remember all I haye told you.” Jack said he would do his besé. When they reached the field, Carden alighted from the trap, opened 4 gate, led the horse in, pulled him some hay out of the rack, and left him standing in a sheltered place, free from observation, “We are first on the ground,**-he observed. 3% Boaracly had he spoken, before the sound of wheels was heard. : A glance sufficed to show that it held Kemp, Lord Tollington, and a little man dressed in black,who, from a case of instruments he carried under his arm, it was fair to suppose was the doctor. : : “ Got a saw-bories,’’ muttered Jack. Carden and Kemp bowed to each other. . Lord Tollington was smoking a cigar with the utmost nonchalance. He chatted gayly with tho doctor, as if nothing un- usual was about to happen. “ Where are your swords ?’’ asked Kemp. “ Here," replied Carden, producing his case, Kemp examined them carefully, and was satisfied with his inspection, ; “They will do,” he exclaimed. say two words to Harkaway ?” ‘*Certairily not,” answered the other, suspiciously. “T merely wanted to tell him something.” . “Send any message you like through me.’’ “Well, then, tell him Emily has vanished no one knows where,”’ said Kemp. Carden felt a strong inclination to knock the villaix down. ; He felt instantly that this intelligence was intended — to weaken and unnerve Harkaway at the last moment. Putting on a careless air, he replied: : “Oh, that is stale news. We heard that last night.” “Did you ?”” said Kemp, looking at him inquiringly. That's all I wanted to say. Is your man ready 2?” a He will be in two minutes. See after your princi- pal.” : , “Does the first wound stop the fight?” said Carden, Yes, the first serious wound; but nota mere scratch,’? “Of course not; that is understood.” Going over to Harkaway, Tom Carden exclaimed; “‘ Strip, old fellow, and take your sword.” Jack quickly took off his coat, waistcoat and braces. He stood there in his trousers and shirt. Round his waist he tied a belt, sailor fashion,’ Bis slices were very light and elastic, Taking his sword in hand, he walked to the opea spot indicated. % “JT think, Mr. Kemp,” observed Carden, “ that if we place our men north and south, neither will have the advantage of the rising sun.’’ ; “No; I think not,” replied Kemp. Lord Toliington and Harkaway faced one another, * Will the man apologize ?’’ inquired his lordship of Kemp, looking round in a supercilious manner. Kemp repeated the question to Carden, who én- swered: “If his lordship will express his regrot for his extra ordinary conduct, which led to Mr. Harkaway’s chas- tizing him, probably Mr. Harkaway will admit his sor- ze Be having inflicted bodily pain upon Lord Tol- gton,”” “That is absurd. Hngarde, sir,” replied his lord& ship, saluting. The swords clashed in the salute. Then each combatant stepped back; each one’s eyes fixefl upon the other's; every muscle rigid as irom, — each face determined and resolute. In form Tollington was about Jack’s height, and bore some resemblance to him, though the latter was more stontly Hea oe The birds sang merrily in the trees and hedgerows: the kine lowed in the meadows, and a phe oe peeae “By-the-by, may I | wafted the perfume of the hay towards the col« legians. Much as Jack had profited by Carden’s instructions, they did not seem to avail him much, geen tried a feint, Lord Tollington was prepared for Mar) y ‘ If he made a desperate and cleyer thrust, his lord. ship parried it. The fact was that Tollington had also been at Eton, and had»learnt fencing from the sdme master whe, taught Carden; therefore they were both acquainted with the same tricks of fence. For fully ten minutes they continued to fight with- . Ops phan obtaining a sensible eirants x05 he expiration of that time his lordship succeeded in slightly touching Jack in the breast, e $2 Ge ae
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% HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND, The blood ran down his white shirt, and stained it | knownit you would haye been no good in the duel erimson. : Jack became more wary. He felt that he was not much hurt, and restraining his neryousness, he watched narrowly for an oppor- tunity. , -It came at last. A whistle was heard in the hedgerow. “Some one barges 1 exclaimed incautiously. Lord Tollington did not pay any attention to remark, but kept his eye fixed on his adversary. Jack, by a dexterous turn of the wrist, inflicted a severe wound on his lordship. The unhappy young nobleman fell to the ground with pegroan, deluging the greensward with his blood, as Sack deftly withdrew his blade. In an instant Kemp was supporting him. The surgeon was also by his side, examining the qound, whieh he proceeded to bind up, to stop the hemorrhage. “Eh, lad!” exclaimed a voice. “ Be the Oxford gentle- men 4-foighting wi’ swords ?”’ Carden saw a couutry bumpkin eating some bread and bacon. “ “‘Here’s a half acrown for you,’”’ hesaid. ‘Goto your work, and hold your tongue.” - “Fold my tongue for haafacrown? That's not me. Imun ha’ a suyerin’,” answered the bumpkin, with a knowing look. “That's all you'll get from me,’ said Tom Carden giving him a hearty kick; ‘‘and now be off, unless you want another.” Bumpkin slunk away without another word. After getting to a safe distance he stopped. “Gei oi the -crown ?”’ he said, “See you hanged first.’” Jack had hastily put on his clothes, and going to the Burgeor, anquised enxioushy after his adyersary. “T hope sincerly he is not much hurt,’’ he said. “The wound is not mortal,” said the doctor, “but he will have to lay up tor sometime. Fortunately, the part touched is fleshy, and no important vessels in the this ay. ' er That is jolly,” said Jack. ‘Can we render you any assistance ?” “None, thanks. We must get him back to college as soon as possible, and say he has a fever.” Jack shook the doctor by the hand, and rejoined Oardon, who had already taken the dog-cart into the road, ““He’s not fatally hurt,’ he exclaimed, ‘ Hurrah |” “TL knew that by the way he washit. Jumpin. It’s all right,” said the imperturbable Carden. Jack was soon by his side and rolling back to Oxford. “T shall have an appetite for breakfast now,’ he ob- served, $96 “How about your wound? Did he let the daylight in ?” asked Carden, whipping up the horse. “Ob, no. It’s merely & scratch, The bone stopped the point of the sword. He fenced better than I> ex- _“Iucky for you. pected.” “So I thought. It was my idea, at one time, that he was too good for me.” “You are well out of it, old fellow. I congratulate ou.” me Thanks. It has ended better than I hoped,” re- plied Jack. “Do you remember what Hudibras says?” asked Carden. “No; phn, eee acu \ “* Ah, me! what @eddies with cold iron.’ ” Jack laughed. “Well, it wasn't altogether my fault,” he said, ‘and if fellows will fight, why, they must.” With this philosophical remark, he contented him- self till they reached Oxford, where they arrived in time for chapel. Jack did not attend very much to the service that morning. 5 His thoughts were diverted from religous exercise, and some excuse must be made for him when we consider thé excitement he had passed through. Oar- den linked his arm in his as they left the chapel, and do envirop—the man who aid: é “You will breakfast with mo?” « Thanks,” replied Jack, “I don’t want to trespass on our good-nature. You must be tired, as you’ haye up all night, on my account, too. Isuppose you will shirk lectures and turn in?’ “No ; Ishall go to lectures, and sleep there if I feel tired. You must come with me because I have some- thing to tell you.” “Touching what ?”” “Tshan’t say a word till you've fed. know my secret.” : Totally ignorant of his meaning, and thinking that his friend was only joking with him, Jack went to breakfast, to which he did ploughman’s justice. “Now,” said Carden, lighting a cigar, “we will pro- ceed to revelations. Don’t you smoke?” “Yes;Ishall put ona modest pipe,’ replied Jack, eharging his well blacked meerschaum with Bristol bird’s eye. me “Don’t be alarmed at what Iam going to tell you.’’ “‘Dhat depends. What is it?” “You are spoony on a little girl named Emily, at Oakley Wood.” . “Mrs. Travers’s place, She is governess there. What of her ?’’ cried Jack, excitedly. _“§$he has been missing since yesterday morning.” “ Who told you this ?’” a grab He saw a messenger last night from Oakley wood,” “Why did you not let me know at once? It was wrong of you, very wrong, indeed," said Jack. “No, it was not, and I will tellyouwhy. Ifyou had Then you shall this morning, and got pinked instead of Tollington.” “Tt is very odd,” said Jack, eta « First of all Hilda Manasses vanishes, and then ily. Who can have done it ?” : “T think Mr. Kemp knows more aboutit than he would like to tell.” “Why ?” “ Because he wanted me to mentionit to you just be- fore the duel began. ' “Did he? Then it’s a plot of Davis’s, I'll lay m¢? life,’” exclaimed Jack, adding, “what is tobe done?” Jack threw down his pipe and groaned. His enemies had touched him in a sore point when they had attacked his darling Emily. They had tried to make her jealous through Hilda. They had endeavored to keep him out of the boat in the 'varsity race. Hunston had made an attempt on his life and they had striven hard to get Lord Tollington to kill him. In all these attempts they had failed. But at last they had inflicted a wouud on his heart which would take a long time to heal. » : ' CHAPTER IY. THE CAPTIVE MAIDENS, Tue secret of the duel was well kept. Lord Tolling- ton was reported to be suffering from an attack of low ae not contagious, which in afew weeks would be cured, The authorities of St. Aldates were far from sus: pecting that a desperate duel had been fought by two gentlemen in residence in the college. Jack sent Monday every day to inquire after the health of his injured opponent, and once or twice ven- tured to make him presents of grapes and flowers. These were invariably returned with a polite messege by his lordship’s scout. In every way in his power Jack tried to find out what had become of Hilda and Emily, but without success. | 1 The truth was that the Duke of Woodstock had em- ployed Huuston to carry off the beautiful Jewess. Frank Davis had given him a similar mission with rise to Emily. unston had acquitted himself well of the double area and received handsome payment for his vil- ainly. The two maidens had been taken to a laborer’s cot- tage a few miles out of Oxford. The cottage was situated near the wood, and being ag a in asecluded spot, very few people passed near For a'good round sum, paidin advance, the laborer agreed to guard the girls. He gave them the three rooms at the top of the house, undertaking that they could not escape. His wife brought them their meals, and books were supplied them to beguile the monotony of their cap- tivity. At the bottom of the stairs an unusually fierce mas- tiff dog was chained, and he barked and tore at the pe when either of the prisoners appeared on the stairs. The height of the windows from the ground ren- dered escape impossible in that direction. Hilda had arrived at the cottage some hours before Emily, but agitated and alarmed as she was, she hailed the advent of a companion with joy. After they had been together a few hours, they be- came great friends. : ’ Emily fancied she had seen Hilda somewhere before, and told her so. Then it flashed across their minds that how they had met in the Broad Walk, when Hilda was hanging upen Jack’s arm. ¢ They saw in av instant they both loved the same man, “Mr. Harkaway is your sweetheart, dear,” said Hil- da. “Iwill not think of him any more, If I had known this at first, I would not have been so silly as to love him.” “We cannot control our hearts,” replied Emily, “and I am sure you were not to blame.” “Have you forgiven me for seeming to step between you and your love?” “Long ago. Jack explained it all to me. Let us not think of the pasé ; our common danger is so great that we must be sisters to each other.” “Willingly, dear Emily,’ answered Hilda, kissing her tender! + ‘Iwish Mr, Harkaway knew where we are: “So do I, he would quickly liberate us; but what I want to know is, why we have been taken here, and with what object.” j \ *«Oan you think ofno one who has prosecuted you with his attentions ?”” “There is only Frank Davis from Singapore; he carried me off once before—it may be he; and you, dear, have you no tiresome lover? Surely, with your beauty, you must have many admirers.”” “The Duke of Woodstock has been} paying me at- tentions, but I have given him no encouragement be- cause I fancied he was not honorable. The money-len- der’s daughter, the Jewess, belonging to a despised race is no match for a Duke of England.” “Andif she were, would you wed?” asked Emily smiling. “Perhaps—I know not,” answered Hilda in some confusion. “Now I know Mr. Harkaway can never be mine, I might do worse than marry a handsome young gentleman for his money and title.” “Tfit should be as you suspect,” replied Emily, we will try and frighten his rae into matrimony. T feel persuaded our friends will find us, and perhaps his Jordship would perter the beautiful Hilda, rather than than be publicly prosecuted for what the law calls abduction, As for Mr. Davis, I will not rest sati« fied until the authorities expel him from Oxford. a Hilda regarded her courageous friend with admira- ion. y / “ How brave you are, dear,’”’ she said. 2 30". “Tf you had met with the startling adventures I'did after I was wrecked, you would know how to think and act in an emergency like this,” replied Emily. Then she related several incidents of their stay in Pisang, praising Jack unavoidably for the shate he took in them, till Hilda’s face glowed, and she felt that Harkaway was worthy of any woman's loye, for he was a hero, without fear and without reproach. A week passed without the girls seeihg anyone, or being able to glean any intelligence from the old -woman who attended to their wants. This alarm increased as the time glided by. _ ’ At length their doubts were put an end to by the appearance of the Duke of Woodstock and Frank Da- is, Who entered the little sitting room together. It was about three o’clock in the afternoon. ; The day had been foggy and cloudy. y Rain was falling heavily, and without all was ae cold and dreary as the girl’s hearts. “Pardon ourintrusion upon your charming privacy, young ladies,” said Davis; “we could not keep so much lovliness cooped up any longer without coming to look at it,” : Hilda was too much frightened to speak. But Emily was equal to the occasion, “Our suspicions were correct, it seems,” she said, — “when they pointed to you two as our abductors. eee pentpaen I presume, is the Duke of Wood- stock?” F “Aw—no,” answered the duke. “Fact is, name of Smith. Mr. Smith of London Very common name— aw. ” et “ Whoever you are,’’ answered Emily, ‘‘depend upon it you will have to pay dearly for this outrage.’’ ‘Hope not, aw'm sure,’ said the duke. “Got no money—aw—bad thing to be—aw—without money.” “How long do you mean to keep us here, and what is your object, Mr. Dayis?”’ continued Emily. “You and Tare old enemies. We understand one another, and I can talk to you, but not to that affected and con- ceited nobleman by your side.” ‘ Saint “Bai Jove!" muttered the duko, “little girl’s got a a Fancy she’s giving it me—wather stwong.” : i “ Your question is easily answered,” replied Davia, “You will not leave this place until you are my wife.” “Indeed!” she said, with a scornful curl of the lip. * You choose an agreeable way of courting. If that ie your determination, I fear I shall spend the remainder of my life here ; and Hilda, what is to be her fate ?—tha same, I suppose?”’ “Yes, his grace”—— ; “Smith, my dear fellow. You forget. Say Smith,” put in the duke. : “Nonsense. They know who you are,”’ rejoined Davis, impatiently, “Lhe Duke of Woodstock, I say, Miss Scratchley, is resolved to wed Miss Hilda,’’ “Whether she will or not ?” ; “Exactly.” n } “T suppose you haye some mock marriage in con- templation, and have employed some villain like your- self to play the part of priest.” “No, on my honor,” / “Your honor!” repeated ays satirically, “Do you mean to make me laugh? Honor and you have been on distant terms for some time past.’” “You are severe,”’ said Dayis, biting his lip. “Am 1?’ she replied. “I feel glad you think so. Now hear me, Mr. Davis ; if we are not instantly re- leased, we will raise such a hornet’s nest about both of you, that you shall be in prison before long.” , Davis laughed. “*Tt is very well to threaten, but you must remem- ber that you are in our power. Think of the concern of your friends at your agp dict P “That reflection only em . ” ou. “Perhaps we have behaved rather hatshly,” Davis went on; ‘yet you ought to excuse us when you re- collect how we love you.” F “Love!” (oa “Yes,indeed. yam dying with love for you, and th Duke of Woodstock is so smitten with Hilda's ch: that he does nothing but rave about her all day.” _ “Truth that ; it is, bai Jove!’ replied the duke. “T’ give a thou. now, for a kiss; fact, taaine you.” “We will have nothing to say to you or yourl either,” said Emily. ‘ eit where it will be thoug more of.” f “Perhaps,” said Dayis, bitterly, ‘as the weeks slip away, and the long months of your captivity follow one another, you will speak more civilly.” " “What?” replied Emily ; ‘‘do you think that any- thing would induce us to speak civilly, as you call it,! to such villains as you have proved yourself to be. We are oply polite to gentlemen, and not to ruffians who disgrace themselves by persecuting helpless girls.” “Your very helplessness ought to be an argument in our fayor.”’ Tt is not; and perhaps we are not so utterly de- fenseless as you imagine. Perhaps Mr, Harkaway is not far from this spot now,” said Emily. She did not hope indeed for any such geod luck. Fi It was a random shot, fired with the intention of frightening her visitors. “Have you any reason to expect Harkaway?” said Davis, turning white, ' “T shall answer no questions.” “Jove!” exclaimed the duke. ‘Bettaw be eff; shouldn't like to meet that fellah Harkaway here— deuced—aw—disagweable thing that.” ‘«Pray don't go,” said Emily, laughing in her sleeve, #1 should like to see you face a genuine man.” . fitters me More against saa 4
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' two more not But swiftly as HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND. ee oO eeeeeeeSSSSSSSssssSsSssSsSsSssSsSsSsSssSsSsSssSssssSSSSS “Think bettaw go, come another time—aw’’— cried the duke. ‘He was restless and uneasy. “TJ fancied I saw three fellows following us, andT guspected they were Dawson, Harvey and Harkaway. One was running after us,” remarked Davis. “ Awkward, vewy, if they happen to—aw— spot us.’’ “Well,” continued Davis, “we will go, but you may expect us again to-morrow, ladies.” “Let’s haye—aw—one kiss before we part,’’ said the duke, with an amorous glance in Hilda's direction. “Dash my—aw—buttons, but one kiss.” Hilda had been crouching up in a corner. : He advanced to the lovely Jewess, and tried to kiss er. : She shrieked loudly, and beathim back with her hands, and struggled furiously. “ Can’t do better than follow a good example,” re- are Frank Davis; “ one kiss from your pretty lips, y.” Emily, however, was not inclined to gratify him.. She ran to the window, threw it open, and cried loudly for assistance. “Help, help !"’ she screamed, “ We shall be mur- dered | Help, help 1’ f Davis’s arm was round her waist. She felt his hot breath on her cheek. _“ By heaven !” he cried, “ I will have a kiss, iff die for it.’? Suddenly a voice exclaimed : ~ “ All right, Emily. Hold on a minute, I’m here, and far off.” : Emily uttered a cry of joy. ‘Then she fell dowxz in a swoon. - The man who had answered her desperate appeal for help was Harkaway. He was coming along at the double to the rescue. ui When ho spoke he was only a few yards off the cot- age. . CHAPTER Y, STORMING THE COTTAGE. r Franx DAvis was right when he fancied that heand the Duke of Woodstock were followed as they left Ox- ford. They drove quickly ina phaeton which they had left in the pbk 3 they went, they were not fast enough for Jack. tie bind was in excellent order, and he kept the car- 7 in sight all the way till it stopped. ‘hen he followed its occupant to the cottage, and waited for Sir Sydney Dawson and Harvey to come up. He would have gone to the cottage at once, had he not feared to doso single handed, Pie Hes consideration, his suspicions pointed to avis. / * Wateh him,’’ said Dawson. Harvey agreed with this opinion. a ‘The consequeuces was that Davis and the Duke were seen toleaye thecollege together, and pursued with the successful result we have indicated. Jack would not have made his presenoe known un- less Emily had Sppealed for help as she did, Then he could bear the suspense no longer. Dawson and Harvey, not being such good runners, were.a little way behind, But they too heard the piteous scream, and rushed en with renewed vigor. The two sons of the laborer to whom the cottage be- longed had just come home from work. As it was such a wet and miserable day they left off earlier than usual. Dayis saw the danger in which he was placed. “ Mind the girls,” he exclaimed to Woodstock, and rushed down stairs. «Barricade the doors back and front,” he called to the men. ‘You shall haye five pounds a-piece if you will do what I tell you.” This was a large sam of money to people in their position, They obeyed his commands with alacrity. The doors were made safe from an attack from with- out by heavy iron bars. \ In a short space the windows were also secured, and ehairs placed against them, backed up with bedding to prevent the entrance of stones and bricks. “Now, my fine fellows, kick it out till you aro tired,” said Davis, looking round complacently. Bes sg joined by the ‘Sia “ Both—aw—women fainted, Thought it best to— aw—leave them,’’ he said, . “Never mind them at present,” replied Davis. « What’s—aw—this row ?” “ Harkaway and some friends of his has followed and found us out, Helnows Emily is here, because he heard her scream.” “ Heawd -her scream, Deuced awkward fix—aw,” said the duke. ale “ We must stand a siege, that’s ail. Bother that man Harkaway: he’s always got the kick on his side.” “ Wondaw,” said the duke, “‘ifthese people haye— aw—any liquor?” — “ Not they,” answered Davis. ‘They are too poor. Think of dur position. How are we toget out of this scrape ?”” ¢ Feats awkward scawpe. Think shall cut the— aw—university, and take a cruiso in my—aw—yacht somewhere down the—aw—Mediterranean way.” «« What is a poor beggar like nietodo? IwishI had never mixed myself up in the mess,’’ said Davis, biting his nails with vexation. - “Your governaw is rich—aw.”” “T know that; but he'll have me back again to that ae sn Singapore, which I hate, iff am sent away from ford.’ x “Nevaw mind. Come with me—aw—we'll enjoy hae . ourselves. Bothaw Oxford. What’s Oxford—aw—te us ?”’ said the duke. His further utterance was cut short by 4 furious at- tack upon the door. “Pound away,” excIuimed Davis. that.” * Jack had been joined by Sir Sydney Dawson and Harvey. Briefly he explained to them what had taken place. | Their blood boiled at the thought of the helpless girls, who were probably being insulted by their cow- ardly abductors. Presently the knocking ceased. “Within there !*’ exclaimed Jack. “Don't answer him,” whispered Davis. “Open the door, or we'll break it in,” cried Jack. There was no reply. Again the hammering commenced. It lasted agood ten minutés, when the assailants saw it was useless to continue the attack in tRat direction. For some time there was a dead silence. Then the chairs and bedding fell down, anda dark form appeared on the sill. It was Sir Sydney Dawson, armed with a thick stick. Immediately it was seen that they were taken by sur- prise, tho two sons of the laborer rushed to the threat- ened point. . Eazh fell to the ground from a well-directed blow from Sir Sydney. “Who is the next gentleman?” he exclaimed, bladly. Dayvis took up 4 large kettle and threw it at him. “It struck him on thé chest, apd he fell back on the grass, having lost his balance. He was up again, however, before they could close the window. “Thank you,” he said. ‘Perhaps you will oblige me ‘ain 2? ; *erhe laborer himself now attacked him with a spade. It appeared to be Dawson’s object to divert the atten- tion of those in the cottage, for he contented himself with parrying the blows with the spade and chaffing those inside. “Quite a family party,” he said. “Sorry to disturb you. What, you won't be quiet, old gentleman? Take that, then, in return for the last prod you gave me on the shins, which’ is somewhat palnfal. Down again! Who is the next gentleman ?”’ The laborer had his head broken by a well-directed blow from Dawson's bludgeon, and he joined his two sons. : Davis picked up a poker, and took up the battle, but Dawson, being perched upon the window-sill, had the advantage of fighting from a superior height. The contest went on between them for some time, Dawson receiving a few blows, and Davis at last gettin, one on the sword arm, which made it fall helpless by his side. With a fierce howl he withdrew, and the poker slipped from his hand. “Thank you. Sold again and got the money. Who is the next gentleman ?” exclaimed Sir Sydney, with his habitual smile. No one answered. : “My lord duke,” he. Fig yee addressing his grace, whe, taken no part im the combat, “ I oblige you?” “Aw—thank you, hot at pwesent. Not a fighting man, you see—aw,” replied the duke. A low whistle was heard outside. “Mr. Dayis,’”’ said Dawson. «What is it ?” asked Davis, sullenly. “J think I have made a very clever diversion for my two friends, Mr. Harkaway and Harvey. While I have been amusing myself with the inmates of the patti they have by the. aid of Providence and a ladder, res- cued the two ladies whom you held in captivity in an upper chamber.” : } * Deuce take them !’ cried Davis, livid with rage. “Tn two minutes they will be on the road to ford in your carriage, being under the care of Mr. Harvey.” “Ten thonsand furies!’? almost shrieked Davis. “Do you want to madden me?” “Pardon me; one minute more. Mr. Harkaway and myself remain behind for the express Ae i of setting fire to this cottage in two places, and burning it to the ground,” “You dare not.” «Time will show,” replied stp gen © adding, “ when wo return to Oxford, your conduct will be laid before the authorities; proceedings will be taken criminally against you; and if the Duke of Woodstock does not marry Miss Hilda Manasses, along term of imprison- ment will probably await his amorous grace.’ “ Mawy a Jewess,”’ replied the duke ; ‘that’s a neat idea.’’ “Tt will bea case of the Jewess or the jail, my lord. While to Mr. Davis no mercy at ail will be shown, and if he is wise, he will not return to the college at all.” He turned his head to speak to Jack, Then he resumed : “Mr. Harkaway informs me that the ladies have started, that he is quite prepared with dry straw and matches. I have the honor to hope, gentlemen, that you will enjoy the little fire we intend to light for you.” : Sir Sydney disappeared from the window. His antagonists were dumbfounded. The laborer and his sons were on their legs, and rub- bing their hands with their knucules, while they looked “Tt ean stand all around them in some confusion, Davis ran up stairs. The rooms were empty. | A ladder stood against the window, and he saw that Sir Sydney Dawson had not misled him, While he was engaging their attention below, the | bird had flown, : | “The game’s up,” he muttered. “I shall go to Lon- | don, Oxford is no longer the place fer me, As to / X 7 Woodstock, he’d better marry the Jewoas, or get out of it as he can.”” * Suddenly a smell of fire ascended the stairs, which was followed by a dense smoke. “By Heaven !” he cried, ‘‘they have set the cottage on fire.” He was right. —. Harkaway and Dawson had set light to the vile den in two different plaees. CHAPTER VI. THE MATCH AT LORD'S. Frenina satisfied that Harkaway and Dawson really had set fire to the cottage, Davis did the most clever thing he could under the circumstances. He got out of the window, and descended by the lad- der which had enabled Emily and Hilda to escape. About the same time, those on the ground floor of the cottage, not wishing to be suffoca' drain, opened the door, They were just in time. The flames had caught the old tumble-down place in two quarters, and were already raging furiously. With a sort of stupor the laborer and his family gazed at the work of devastation. The A ae losing their all, but they had richly de- served it. Rouning himeelf at last, the old man went up te ack, who was bei ashort distance off, watching the conflagration with folded arms. By his side was Sir Sydney. Frank Davis and the Duke of Woodstock, heartily ashamed of themselves, slunk off together. “Tt be you who ha’ done this,” exclaimed the laborer. “Yes,” replied Jack. “ What beest thy naam ?”” “Mr. Harkaway, of St. Aldate’s.’” “111 make’ee pay for it,” said the old man, angrily. | “Tf you want compensation for what Ihave done, yon should apply to your noble employer, the Duke of ‘oodstock, who has just left your burning cottage.” “ Be ’e the Dook of Woodstock ?” cried the laborer, im surprise. “Yes. And he has hired you to do a dirty action, for which you ought to be kicked, and are justly punished; ‘he should see you through it, and notlet yeu suffer, for the result. You will get no compensation out of me—not a co “ Hey ! and why noat ?” URN | “T will tell you, man,” continued Jack. “You haye detained two young ladies in your house ina most unjustifiable manner. You kept them prisoners against their will, and any magistrate in England would say it & | served you right if you lose everything you have got.” “We be turned out of house and hoam.” “ All your own fault. See your employers.” - Jack turned on his heel, and taking Dawson’s arm, walked back te Oxford, talking, as he went, about what” had happened. He was furiously enraged against Davis and the duke, but delighted beyond measure at haying rescued the girls after all. : ‘The flames of the burning cottage lit up the sur- rounding country for a time. _ Then all was desolate and dull again. The cottagers were ruined, but, as Jack said, it served them right. In the end’ they obtained 4 sum of money from the duke, and were better off than they were before. — Emily returned to her situation at Oakley Wood. Hilda went to her father, who was full of gratitude. He told Jack that his fortune was at his disposal. Once he had saved his daughter’s hfe, now he had saved: a nok Davi did not sh ii 5 is not show up again in the university. He vanished, and no one naw while he went to, me Threats of exposure and prosecution induced the Duke of Woodstock to marry the fair Hilda, " She did not love him; but knowing she could never be Jack's wife, she mado the best of her lot, and be came a duchess. This Men old Mauasses immensely. The duke did not continue to reside in the univer. sity. a went abroad with his beautiful bride, and whem his friends became reconciled to the match, it was ad- mitted on all sides that he might have done worse. Manasses gave his daughter a hundred thousand pounds, which was a noble fortune, as the Duke of Woodstock’s title was not a rich one. “ He could—aw—draw upon the old man,” he remark- ed, “if he—aw—evaw became hard up. Something— aw—to have a rich—aw—father-in-law.’ This was a consolation to his grace’s mind, Jack congratulated himself upon getting rid of one of his enemies. Hunston was not seen in Oxford after this affair, im which he played such a base part. It was supposed he had made himself scarce, fearing the law would be put in motion against him. So only Kemp remained behind to be a thorn ia Harkaway’s side. - Davis, however, did not leave England. Tt was destined, however, that he should still in. fluence Harkaway’s career in a most remarkable and romantic manner, as will be related as we 2 May passed, and the lovely summer time commene- ed, so favorable to cricket. Jack had not forgotten his school days, andit was found that he was such a good batsman that he was | putin the eleven. Bowling was not his strong point, but he was an excellent field, and eould throw up against any one at Oxford: J Every one looked forward with considerable interest to the great annual match between Oxford and Cam- bridge at Lord’s ground in London. _ > Sir Sydney Dawson, Harvey, and Carden, and a host ; like rats in a
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a HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND. ————— eee ef other men, obtained leaye to go up to town to wit- moss the match. Great__expectations were formed respecting the Oxford team, which was a capital eloven. Cambridge had been successful for two years in suc- cession, and it was hoped that this time Oxford would revertse the verdict, and score a victory. “Mr. Bedington, his wife, and Emily, were all in Lon- don, staying at the Langham Hotel, where Jack joined them. . , They had their carriage sent into the ground over night, and took up their position in the front row about eleven, At twelvé the wickets were pitched, and Oxford hay- aa! won the toss, they elected to go in. he morning was a lovely one. If anything, the sun was 4 little too hot, but this was better thaa having Vast crowds of spectators thronged the ground, and the applause was great when the Oxford captain sent Harkaway and the Honorable H. Cavendish to the wickets. Way began. In the first over Cavendish was. caught off the bat by the wicket-keeper. Loud cheers arose from the Cantabs. No runs for one wicket. ‘Tom Car- den went in next. : . He was not a brilliant player, but cautious and steady. He puzzled the bowling by his defense, and was fond of blocking the bal!, and making ones off tips. Bg this time Jack had mastered the bowling, and began to play. , His first hit was a fine cnt to leg for four, well run, lee he made several singles, being well assisted by len. Two maiden overs followed, but. Jack getting well |” on to the ball, drove it to the pavilion for six. For fully an hour the two boating-men faced one. an another. ‘Ss It was a tedious piece of leather-hunting for the Can- tabs, as the ball went over the field. Pel irg At last Carden was cleaned bowled, stumps, flying. and balls being scattered. — .... »» ‘. “How’s that, umpire ?’’ cried the delighted captain of Cambridge, , * Out,” was. the stolid reply. UP went. the ball high in the air, amidst the cheers f the spectators. Carden was much spplansied, as he had played a very steady innings of twenty-seven. The score with wides and byes, now stood at fifty- nine for two wickets. ‘Harvey, who was also in the eleven, went in next. His career was ashort, but brillliant one. ue made four threes, a six, two fours, and seven C" oer ack’s score was rising rapidly, and as Harvey went out, the 100 went up amidst loud cheering, - Soon after there was an adjournment for luneheon, and in the payilion Jack was congratulated upon his ay. “ Oarry we shall lick them in one inning.” _“T feel as though I could do anything to-day,’’ re- Plied Jack, confidently. _ After luncheon lre went in again, having Lord Tabley facing him. _Tabley, was the captain of the eleven, and great things were expected of the two. Nor did they disappoint their admirers. The score rose steadily to 200, of which Jack contri- Dutod half. \7hen his three figures were telegraphed, the shout- img might have been heard in Regent’s Park. “* Tan’t Jack playing a fine innings ?’’ remarked Har- vey to Mr. Bedington, ovyer.the side of whose carriage he was leaning, ‘ 0! Pmt won’t make him forget his reading,” re- marked Mr. Bedington. “Not it, sir. Jack sticks to his lectures like a letch, and has acoach too, Ho'll come outa double first in the school, you see if he doesn’t,” cried Harvey, who firmly believed his dear old friend to be an Admirable Seianeos, capable of doing everything, and doing it well, too. Steadily the play went on, Lord Tabley went out for fifty, Still the score rose. : Throe hundred were marked, and there was yet two wickets to go down, It seemed as if Jack would carry his bat out after all, and he dearly wished to manage the achievement, which is so much prized amongst cricketers, but so . very seldom accomplished. Exactly at twenty minutes past four, the last Oxford wmaan was bowled. Jack carried his bat ont for 175 and the grand total of the Oxford eleven was 391. ; “ Let them beat that if they can,” shouts Oxford, ex- citedly. ‘Bravo, Harkaway, Well played indeed, sir, Hurrah for Harkeway !’’ ‘ With ditt mity Jack kept the crowd off and he was glad when his sympathizing friends were driven back, as the two first Cantabs came in. ..- Jack was “long off.’” _, The fielding of Oxford was.as good as her batting, and bowling as true as a die, ere Was nO besa th with it... ¢ ... Twenty-two eyes. followed every moyement of the ball—iwenty-two arms and hands were ever on the your bat out, old man,’”’ said Dawson, ‘and: alert, and as many legs were ready to run like steam- engines at the slightest provocation. Up goes the ball, high in the air—a perfect skyer. It travels towards Jack, and threatens to go over his head into the crowd beyond. . He runs back to stop it, keeping his eye on the flying’ C. ‘* He'll miss it,”’ said the crowd, “No, he won't.” “Yes, he will.” “No, no.” - : 4 ey Jove! he’s got it.” ' ; And again the throng shouts itself hoarse, as it says: “Bravo, Harkaway! Well caught, by Jove, sir.” Jack had sprung clean up a foot or two from the ground, and caught the skyer with his left hand in grand style, Then went ont the hope of the Cambridge eleven. The best bat they had, the pride of the eleven, and the hope of the university., Four wickets went down for sixty, and then Jack had another ehance of distinguishing himself, A tremefdous drive came towards him, He ran up and stopped it. “Well hit, well hit, run it out,” cried the Cambridge mea. “Runit out!” Jack saw his chance, and took a shot at the stumps, which considering the distance, was a dangerous thing 0 do. Knowing what Jack was capable of, the wicket-keepor Dep geri to the other side, and did not attempt to stop the ball, The stumps were hit, and flew about like pieces of animated wood. Tn surprise, the batsman stopped and stared half way. He was out. Again the crowd shouts itself hoarse, and the report- ers in the press tent made a note for publication of this clever bit of fielding on the part of Harkaway. At six the Cambridge men were all out for the paltry amount of 120. They followed their innings. When the stumps were drawn, they had three wickets down for eighty. Jack was a hero that.evening, and went to the play with his friends. The next day the match was a foregone conclusion. By half-past one Cambridge was all out for 210, which gave them a total of 330; therefore, they lost the match in one innings, and Oxford had 61 fo spare. “Tf it hadn’t been for Harkaway, we might have pulled it off,’ said the light blues, reactant But it is just such men as Harkaway who win battles and change the fortunes of nations, as well as win boat-raees and cricket-matches. The playground shows what a man is ce ot of, and gives promise of what he can, may, and will do in the great world, Jack was a great man in Oxford now, and may fairly be called one of the shining lights and leaders of the university. Soon after the long vacation commenced. He went home, passing his time in reading, prin- cipally, for he meant to take high honorsif he could. A trip to France in August was an agreeable change, and he returned home in time for the peiriees Being a keen sportsman, and a good shot, he made gad havoc with the birds, _ Harvey spent nearly all the vacation with him, and in October he visited Sir Sydney Dawson, and helped him to kill the pheasants, It was with genuine pleasure that when the winter term came, he once more took up hisresidence in Ox- ford; which he loved so well. His first visit was to Moses Manasses, to inquire after his daughter. da was at Badan Badan with her husband, the Duke of Woodstock. u She wrote contentedly,and said that her position abroad was a magnificent,.one; her pride was grati- fied, and she found such delight in continental society, that she did not care about having married for posi-+ tion. The duke was kind to her. Manassez went on making money, all of which he declared should be his daughter's, ‘Woodstock, sir,” he remarked, ‘‘shall be the richest duke in England when I die.” __ Jack believed he would keep his word. “Ah, sir,’ added the Jew, ‘‘all this, monish might haye been yours, but you are a gentleman, Mr. k- away, and have behaved like one. God bless you, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob bless you. My daughter owes her life and her honor to you. I am fond of monish—it is my trade, but should you want any, come to me; my pursa is yours.” “Thank you very much,” answered Jack: “but f hope I'mall right... I don’t bet, 1 don’t gamble, and am not extravagant.” “You don’t know, sir, what may happen. Come to me—come to old Moses Manasses of the Corn Market, Oxford, if ever you are pushed into acorner. So help me, Mr, Harkaway, you shall have a,cheque. I'll charge you no interest, andif you never pay me, I shall never ask you.” 4 “You're 4 good fellow, Manasses,” exclaimed Jack. “No, I'm not,” exclaimed the Jew ; “many will tell you a different tale, but I'm genuine to you, sir. Let us be friends, Mr. Harkaway, I’ve got few enough,” “Why?” 4 Becneviek I’m a Jew and lend money, that’s all, Jack shook him cordially by the hand. . “Tl come in sometimes,” he said, “and smoke a pipe with you. If you're a bad Jew, all I can say is that I’ve met many a worse Ohristian. Moses Manasses was delighted at this compliment. He repeated his offer; told Jack that if it had mot been for him Hilda would never have beens dutchess, ‘ | and ended by making him accept s hundred-pouna | Rote as a present. : . A |. “Young men never have too much monish, Mr. Hark. away, and you’ye doneme many a good turns. Take it, sir. If you don’t, l’—I don’t know what I'll do; but by Abraham, it will besomething dreadful!” Jack smiled, took the note, and. went to his rooms. Harvey was there, talking to Monday, ~ Monday had been given some money by Jack during the “long”. to trayel about England, Scotland and Treland, ‘ He came back a great man in his. own estimation, for he had seen a great deal. R “Oh, I say, Jack 1!’ exclaimed Harvey, “there's a card for you.” Jack took it, and read ; Whe gil May.” “I don’t know anyone by that name,” he said “I thought not; yi the cove said he hed a letter ot introduction to you.” eee Sere een ” rn ai } “Yes ; I'll swear he is, for a more spooney blo pexer Saw in my life; he is as soit aa, Ditty aryey. * “Where is he now ?” “Said he would come back in half an hour.” “ All right,” replied Jack. “Monday.’? = ae. woe be blacks 4 “Show Mr. Gentle May in when he calls, aad order mea broil from the ‘ Mitre’ at six; : hall to-day,’’ said Jack, ai oor ey ing CHAPTER YII, . GENTLE MAY, “I Bo you are clearin oft your enemies one. by one,” remarked Harvey. ‘‘ Davis is gone, Hunston | ed, and Kemp doesn’t seem ike ‘ood a ee oo “He is poor,” answered Jack. ‘I heard that his father was only a curate somewhere in Berkshire, He a tig’ Sioned: a pot over phe boat race,’ “« o’lent him some coin at the \ peng rete) it.”? . ebiabioie 3 “Ts he anasses would do anything for me. Tl] ive {Kemp a shoye up behind w : 9 sila Sack p hen I see the Tow, " “T would—he deserves a lift; but I don’t haye much to fear from Kemp now Danian Deyn ase 0 pay Kemp.” Sook Sea “know; but Davis may pull the st 3 fre ; vet From raf ed I know of Davis's c sai ay i din say he was not a man to give up a hatred easily, a1 will be ail the more vindictive naan me peal os : he will have nothing else todo buttothink how he oan ee gira Tos EE “Da as @ rich father—it’s nice to h: n 1a said Harvey, with a laungh—‘‘ and he will bovall ricbt for agian London. » ee “Well, don’t talk about the beast,” replied pic “I don’t want to think of been? me ie slide. He may be well off or not; 1 don’t care 80 long as he don’t worry me. As for Kemp, if he hag to leave, his only resource would be skittle sharping.” “Or he might turn billiard-marker,’? suggested Har- wey. Jack laughed. : “His game would be plunder in some shape ot other,” he said; geile, “ there issome one at sue anus ' Mr. May, perhaps. onder what sort of pup he is a It was Mr. Gentle May, who, preceded by Monday, entered the oom with a girl-like simper and an awk: werd bow. i‘ : ¢ was abvat the average heighth, hafls dark com- plexion, which contrasted strangely with liphtish hag of a curling tendency, parted in the middle; his mus tache was fair; whiskers and he had none. About his mouth there was a smile half-imbecile, half- bry ae “ane manner se confused and shy. “ Have @ pleasure,” he said, ‘‘of addres: M brit oe of St. Adakee , ‘ f reps: “That's my name, said Jack, “but Tam afriend, In what way can I serye you ?’ cr ee “Ah,” replied Mr. May, “dear mamma said I should find Oxford very practical, and that the men—I mean _ the gentlemen there would soon make aman of me, _ Iam recalled to myself. Thank you, Mr. Harkaway, for reminding me that at last my frail bark is Jaunchei upon the waters of the wide, wide world, Masaid '}—— “‘ Will you come tothe point, sir?” exclaimed J: “Ah, yes, certainly, Ma always said that I was discursive. You know, Mr. Har! away, or rather yo’ do not know, that I have eleven sisters; I am the only boy An the family, and they haye all made a great pet of — Z “ am to hearit. Pity-you leit home, isn’t it 2” said ack, ' “No, £ wan't to be a man, and, as I have never been to school, Iam rather soft, ma says.” “Your mother is right for once in her Jife, although i ly'8 acquaintance,” have not the honor of the answered Jack, impatiently. ‘Oh, ma always is Tight answered Gentle Mny, seri- ously; “she and my elder sister, Robertina—we call her Robby, Mr, Harkaway—taught me all I know, with the exception of the music, my second sister, Thomasina— we call her Tommy, Mr. Harkaway—made me learn; and I can do Latin and Greek, and French and !: “Come and see me again to-morrow, will you?” said Jack. ‘*You'ye been here balf-an-hour; youshal! have the'same amount of time each day until the end of the week, and by that time, if you have not» got to your business, I shail turn you up.’ . asides] il “Certainly; very kind of you, Mr. Harkaway. Good. Be ne ee — you + reas Ma says 0 slow, an y's always scol me f collecting my ideas,” said Mr, Gentle. . fli “ Monday !” shouted Jack, *' the door.”
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) ‘ ‘ « HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BANDS. ——— Monday let the visitor out, amd Jack and Harvey began to laugh. “That's a queer character, if you like,’’ said Jack. . “Lean’t believe any man could be such an ass at his age—tfanoy his talking about his ma and his sisters. I think he’s kidding.” ' «What ?’’ said Jack. “Humbugging, putting on.” “Why should he ?”” “You will know what brings him to you to-mor- row.” - “Yes; I wish Ihadn’t started him now, my curiosity is excited. Here comes my humble dinner; have a bit 2” “Don’t mind if I do. Never can settle down at _ Oxford the first day,”’ answered Harvey. “You know you are welcome, Dick,” said Jack, good- naturedly. ‘If it was my last crust, I'd share it with you.” “and you know, Jack, that I’d sell my boots and go | barefoot, if it would do you any good,” answered Har- vey. “Of course you would, ana I’d ask you todoitina moment if there was necessity for it, dear boy, but I’m flush. Old Manasses gaye me a hundred pounds, andif you will have halt ’°—— Harvey hesitated. “JT won’t ask you; I’ll make you have it. Take it Dick; it will {pay for lots of little things you want. What? you won’t! I shall have to slip itinto you, if you don’t do what you are told,” he added. Harvey took the money. ‘The tears came into his eyes. ' “<Tf I didn’t like you so much as I do, Jack,” he exclaimed,,‘‘I’d see you at Pisang before I’d touch a halfpenny piece of it.’” . “Shut up, do,” said Jack, looking as if it was the first time he had done a kind thing in his life. _ “All right. I'll haye my revenge the first time I get half a chance,” said Harvey, laughing. Then they hada nice little dinner, and a bottle of claret—best Lafitte—and talked together as only old friends who love one another with all their hearts can talk. ‘ As Jack was coming out of chapel the next day, he met his visitor of the preceding afternoon, who with the same civility, asked him how he was, and accom- - panied him to his rooms. ‘ ; _ Jack volunteered to take his new friend to lectures, which he did. : When they were over, May proposed to walk through the town. Passing a hotel, Jack proposed a glass of beer. ay What would ma say,’ answered Gentle May, “if she only knew I drank beer before dinner? ’’ ee: Better telegraph home and ask her permission,” replied Jack. : “No. Imean to be gay,” said May. ‘I am not at homme now, and I shall do as you all do up here.” They strolled into a billiard room which was empty. Jack began to knock the balls about. -“Do youplay ?”’ he asked. “ Alittle. Iknow bagatelle. Ican beat my sisters at that. Let us play for something ; I have plenty of money.” 4 “*No. 1 don’t care about that—not with you at least,” answered Jack. “ We will play five games. You give me twenty out out of fifty. Ifyou beat me three times, you shall have my new horse, which ma gave me, and if I beat you, you shall pay me the value of the horse.” “All right,” anid Jack. ‘That seems fair. Will you “brdak 2?” “Yes,” replied Gentle May. He took the spotball and made a missin baulk ; Jack ees: the game proceeded evenly until Jack, had a lucky break, which made them thirty all. Then May went ahead and won easily. “One to you,” said Jack. ‘It doesn’t look like my winning the horse.” : . ‘¢ Oh, it’s only my flukes, See what luck I had,” re- x the third and fourth. “That’s three to me,” hecried. “ What would ma say ifshe knew I had such luck.” »“ What do you value your horse at?” said Jack, plied Gentle May. | } ~ Jack won tlie second game, but May easily beat him biting his lips with vexation, “Wo forgot to settle that.” he is avery good horse, but I will say forty ~~ «Oh ?P 3 to you.” Jack took out of his pocket the notes Moses Manasses _ had given him, and with something like a groan, paid © the money. To be beaten insuch an easy way by a man like Gen- tle May was a disgrace, He caloulated upon an easy victory ; he would not have accepted the horse. May pocketed the money, and said:— | “Do you want a horso, Mr. Harkaway ? ‘As it happens, I do,” repried Jack. “ A little exer- cise on horseback would do me good.” «If you give me twenty pounds more, you shall have mine. Pay me when you like. Your note of hand will do.” ” ral Jack thought he spoke ina very business-like sort of in which case manner. “Let's go see it,” he said. ; “Qome with me. Itisat the stables,’’ lied May, new I was a ny Oh | what would ma say if she g tosell the fiery steed she gaveme? It is fiery, ut so easily managed by a good rider.’” , They went to the stables, and’ Jack thought ‘Gentle May knew his way very well about Oxford for a fresh- man, as he went direct to the street without asking is Way. | bF athe noise ‘was a fine handsome chestnut, and seemed cheap at sixty pounds. Agroom touched his hat to Jack, who recognized him as a man who attended to Sir Sydney Dawson’s steepie-chaser, and to whom he had given something after winning the race. “Going to buy a ’orse, Mr.’Arkaway, sir?” said the groom, whose name was Stubbles. ““Think ofit,” replied Jack. Stubbles beckoned him on one side. “ Reg’lar wicious brute, that, sir,” he said, “‘ Crib- biter, kicker, bolter, a perfect wretch, sir, all up his darned back. Don’t you have no truck with him.” “Ts he sound?” ae “ Sound as a roach, sir, and right as the mail. He's got wind and bottom enough to win a Darby. That ain't what I’m a-talking of ; it’s ‘is beastly temper, sir, Mr. ’Arkaway, sir.’ “Well, I’m nota chicken, Stubbles ; I can ride a little bit,’’ replied Jack, with a smile. “ Jn course you can,sir. There hain’t your match in Hoxford ; no, nor in the shire, for that matter, Still, I wouldn’t part my coin for a hugly-tempered helephant like that. More like a potamus, he is, for tricks and wice, than a decent bit of ‘orseflesh.” This description of the horse put Jack on his mettle. He wanted a mettlesome leader for a new tandem he was going to drive, and he determined to have this horse—more out of bravado than anything else. Besides he had paid forty pounds, which he had fairly lost at billiards, therefore, if ha gaye another twenty, Hh would have his money’s worth in the form of a good orse. ‘ “Where did the horse come from ?”’ he asked. “Tt is a London ‘orse, sir,” answered, Stubbles. “‘Leastways I think so, because it belonged to Mr. peg of St. Aldate’s who had it sent up here afore he eft.” F “Dayis ?” repeated Jack. “Yes, sir, Mr, ’Arkaway, sir; but Mr. May he showed us areceipt from Mr. Davis for the ’orse,s0 we sus- pect he bought it off him.” Jack thought it very odd, and going back to Gentle May exclaimed: “Do you know Mr. Frank Dayis who was up here last term ?” “No,” replied May, ‘‘not in the least. Stay,” he added. “That is the gentleman ma’s agent bought the horse from. I remember now; I haye the receipt from a Mr. F. Davis.” - “Oh, that is it,” said Jack, ‘‘ Well, Pll buy him.” “He is yours. I thought him too mettlesome for me, and am glad to get rid of him, A park hack is more my style. When I go out riding, the vulgar little boys about shouts out—‘ Get inside, and pull the blinds down!’ It makes me so wild, Mr. Harkaway, to be chaffed before ma and Bobby and Thomasina.” He turned away as Jack gave some instructions to the groom, and muttered to himself: hf “If the brute doesn’t break his neck, it isn’’ my fault. Deuce take him!” Jack did not hear this, or his suspicions respecting Mr. Gentle May would have been speedily aroused. As it was, he thought him a strange mixture of cun- ning and simplicity. ~ Not a bad fellow at heart, but half rogue, half flat; is face, a man who would develop in time, and become clever, “He’s been brought up at home with alot of sis- ters,’ thought Jack, ‘‘and that is sure to spoil the best man that ever was born. A man can’t learn any good out of a parcel of girls, They walked home together, and May invited him to tea in his room, which, oddly enough was the very same that Davis used to occupy. The same furniture remained in it, and Jack could mot help fancying that he was once more friendly with avis. id When he asked Mr, May how he became possessed of the furniture he told him that his “ma’s,” agent in Oxford had bought the furniture from a gentleman who had left, but he did not know his name. Jack thought it was very funny that May should buy Davis’s horse, have Dayis’s room and eyen his furniture, But he did not say anything. May showed him great hospitality, tried to make himself acres was very funny in his simple man- ner, and Jack soon dismissed from his mind the sus- picion that he could in any way be connected with his late enemy Davis. CHAPTER VIII. A STRANGE ARRIVAL AT OXFORD. Tar next day Harvey gaye Jack a look up after break- fast, and said: “ Are you going to lectures this morning ?”” “No, I mean to cut the shop to-day,” replied Jack ; “fact is, I’ve bought a horse, and May and I are going out riding.” “You seem to be wrapped up in that ass,’ said Harvey. “The beggar sticks to me so, andI don’t seo any harm in him. Come with us.’ “IT don’t mind, though I would rather Mr. May was not one of the party. I went to his rooms last night, after you, but you had left, and what do you think I saw on the table ?’’ / «Wine, I suppose,” said Jack, “No, I didn’t ; it was a wig.” “A what?’ “A wig thing, exactly like his own head of hair. He scrambled it up and put it in his pocket. What on earth does he want a wig for?’ «By Jove!” said Jack, “that’s funny, He’s a queer | bonia.” fish altogether.” “So I think, and the less you have to do with him the better. What horse is this you are going to try ?”’ “One I bought from May.” - ‘ = —— “ Already | Harvey. “Don't bully the man. You are jealous, Dick.’* “No, I’m not, but Idon’t like him. Ican’t put up with him at all,’’ . “What harm can a fool like that dome? Shut up.” “I'll meet you at the stables,’ replied Harvey. In ten minutes they were all mounted, ae eon wanerey ip Jack: '“Don't touch him with the spur, sir, it, and will bolt like nine vine? siehe a ters “All right,” ans wered Jack. They took the Abingdon road, and chatted pleas- antly as they went along. tie going a few miles Gentle ‘How do you like the horse; Mr. Harkaway? Put him through his paces. You haven't tried hin at a fence yet.” Mee hur ee There was a five-barred gat, some mealows. t Forgetful of the groom’s advice, Jack drove the into the animal's side and put him at the gate. For a moment the horse reared dangerously, and had not Jack struck him with the whip between the ears, he would have fallen back on him and crushed him in the road, ~ Then he took the bit between his teeth, rose at the gate, cleared it, and was off like the wind. “ Case of bolt,’’ said Harvey. He was right. Jack found he his knees well in, gave him his head and let him go. Away he went, oyer ditches and hedges, across mead- ows and pibughies fields, without showing any symp- toms of distress. At length the river was in front of them. “Tl make him swim it,” said Jack, between his teeth, “Perhaps that will cool his courage.” Accordingly he whipped and spurred the infuriated animal again, and put him straight at the river, which was swollen by recent rain. Into the angry torrent he plunged, breasting the current. Prine his feet out of the stirrups, Jack got off the saddle and swam to the opposite shore. He’s got an eye to business,” replied ay exclaimed ; : on one side leading inte rs spure Here he awaited the arrival of the horse. ‘ The animal was carried some distance by the'stream, but landed at last, standing shivering and trembling on the bank. 3 All the steam was out of him now. hes: sack mounted him again and found him as docile as a lamb. Arriving at Oxford before May or Harvey, he changed his wet things, and by the time he was conttortably syooking a cigar they came in. “Thank God you are not hurt,” said Harvey. “I~ followed him a little way, but you soon distanced me.” “ How did you manage him?’ asked May. “Oh, in my usual way. I’m not split easily,” an- swered Jack, coldly. . “It’s time to go down to Mole’s and coach,” remarked ; Harvey. 4c Tait Pa dl go with you,if Mr, May will excuse me,”’ replied Jack. ” May, seeing he was not wanted, made profuse apolo- gies for the miscomduct of the horse, for which he hoped he should not be held answerable, and retired. “Shunted him,” said Jack. ’ “Good sort of ashunt, too,” replied Harvey. ‘That horse was not safe to ride; he’s a perfect fiend.” ts , Jack told him how he had conquered him, and they ‘welked down to Mr. Mole’s, where, at two o’clock, the men who read with him assembled, (a 5 ue CHAPTER IX, AN ARRIVAL FROM LIMBI, In the street were a black woman with two little children, who, while the woman beata tambourine and sang a wild sort of song, went round and collected the pennies of the benevolent. “Dash my wig |” said Jack, “Iought to know that ane aialay, YL 1 “t's ay, I'll swear,” replied Harvey; “ to site it in ee Al slit too.” reer “Ofcourse, Hold ona minute; we will h she has to say,” said Harvey. be =i ‘The woman was dressed in a dirty cotton print, hang- ing round her in loose folds; her black hair floated in the breeze, and she seemed to be plunged in the depths of poverty. i, Her song, which was in blank verse, was as follows: “Once I was a princess in my dear native plains and all respected me, until a white man came from across the sea and made me his wife. Ah,me! Ay di me; why was I born? “The white man was a cruel deceiver, and betrayed ae trust I placed in him. Woe to me, for I am un- ne! “ He had two wives.and each bore him a child; ay di. me, why was I born?. “The white man sailed away ina as ship to a dis- tant shore, whither I haye followed him, Woe to me. “ His other wife is dead of grief, but I have brought with me her child and my own, and I have yowed to find him. Ah! me, why did I not die also? “Oh! white man,oh! my husband, why did you leave me to pine alone ? SS “Ob! where are you now? Will no kind stranger lead the poor wife to her husband, that he may see his children ? “Ah, me! ay dime; why was I born?” «Jack,’’ exclaimed Harvey, excitedly, “that’s Am- « Just what I was thinking,” answered Jack, “it’s Mole’s wife, the woman he married in Limbi, She says Alfura is dead, and she has managed to come oyer here with the kids. What 4 lark!” had no control over him, and sticking
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Athens.” w eee “I'm awfully glad we spotted her; now we'll havea} spree,” said Jack. ‘‘ Won't Mole tear his hair? hadu’t seen her she might have gone wandering about the country and have missed him, Speak to her.”’ | Jack went close to the woman. «*Ambonia,” he said. She started and turned round. ' “Who calls me by my name ?” she asked, “An old friend; one whom you knew in Limbi. Do you not recognize me? I will lead you to your husband.” Ambonia uttered a-shriek of joy. She seized Jack’s hand and kissed it, saying: “Tears have blinded my eyes, and much hunger coupled with sleepless nights, has weakened my brain, or lshould have known the Tuan Biza of the white man, Welcome, ‘Tuan Biza, you are my savior.” In her great delight she would have gone down on ber knees in the street, but Jack restrained her. “Wait here,” he said, “‘ while I go into the house on the left. Iwill leave the dooropen. WhenI call Am- bonia, through the window, do you enter, leading a child by each hand.” She nodded her head, \ «‘T understand,” she replied; “then Ishall see my husband.” . ‘*T’ll show Mole his wife in ten minutes,” answered | Jack, ‘Go on, with your performance.” He entered Mr. Mole’s house with Harvey, and in 6 large dining-room, which was turned into a study, veral men of different colleges had assembled. They were smoking, talking, asking questions, mak- ing notes, lounging about, standing up, and taking things very easy. It was part of Mole’s system that they should do so. Oxford men were not schoolboys, he said, and should be treated as rational beings. They i gee him to teach them, which he did, and if shay did not get their money’s worth, it was not his fault, You could bring a horse to the water, but twenty men could not make him drink. So it was with learning. Ifa man had not the apti- tude to acquire knowledge, it could not be forced into him. Mr. Mole was standing near the firé-place, with dress- ing-gown and slippers on; a cap with a tassel covered hig head, and he smoked a cigarette. 7 >see sir,” said Jack: “ what are you cramming 0-day 2” * } -*It’s.a general disqpisition, Harkaway, upon the manners and customs of the ancient inhabitants of Greece. 1 maintain that we are more moral as a nation than the Greeks were.” : Le) : am prepared to dispute that point, sir,” said ack. “Very good. I will hear you first, and then will ha my case by historical illustrations,”’ answered ole; adding, “if gentlemen would kindly talk a little less at the lower end of the room, it would matefially increase our comfort up here." There was a lull in the conversation. ‘““We don’t hear, sir,” said Jack, ‘‘of men marrying two wives, and deserting them under the democracy of Mr. Mole paled. “Nor issuch a thing allowed under Victoria,” he teplied. ‘Polygamy, which, as you are aware, is a snion with more wives than one, isan offense to this jountry, andja man who deserts his wife and children justly stigmatized as a villain who is unfit to min- gle en a harmonious atom in the vast total of modern society.” More than one impressionable freshman made a note | of this lovely languagein his book, hoping he could re- member such an eloquent remark when he went into the schools. . “Tf,” continued Mr. Mole, ‘you can urge nothing more than that, it will’be best for you, Harkaway, to subside. You thrust yourself prominently forward, and you must: pay the penalty of your raishness, by sinking into comparative insignificance. Will any oth- er gentleman combat my proposition, that the boasted civilization of the ancient Greeks must yield the palm to modern Europe, for virtue, industry and thrift.” Jack slipped away to the window, and called Ambo- ni Qe ‘ The lady in-question was anxiously awaiting his sig- nal. Leading a dusky child by each hand, she rushed up the steps, crossed the hall, and seeing the dining-room door open, peepedin. The sight of Jack reassured her, She entered, and gave a furious knock on her tam- bourine with her knuckles, looked around her, The husband of her affections, the Mole of her heart, Seenle beloved chief of the pale-faces, was in front of er, She knew him in spite of dressing-gown, smoking- cap and slippers. e yhat disguise could hide from her hawk-like gaze the tender object of her affection. With a bound like that of a deer, she sprang upon bee ond with a hysterical sob, threw herselfupon his reast, The gentlemen who were reading with Mr. Mole were astonished beyond measure, © What could this strange scone mean? “Gentlemen,” said Jack, “ there is a practical illus- tation of my argument.” “What do you mean ?” asked an Oriel man. “In that lady you behold at one and the same time, a princess and a deserted wife.” “Whose wife ?”’ continued the Oriel man. “Mr. Moje’s. He’s married two; one is dead, andby @ strange fatality the surviving one has followed him to England—has encountered him at Oxford. Yes, gen- ftiemen, it is his deserted wife.” Jack put his handkerchief to his eyes. “Tam overcome by my feelings,” he went on, “1 HARRAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND. weep. Who could restrain his tears when he thinks of Harvey, put the kids upon the table.” Harvey immediately did so. “Behold the little cherubs, gentlemen,” Jack con- tinued. ‘ What if they resemble sags of boot—I mean bags of soot? Does the color of a child’s skin release the parent of his responsibility ? Because a woman is black, is she to be foully betrayed and abandoned? | Never, gentlemen, will I believe so ill of Oxford as to credit for a moment that you will support such an abominable dectrine.”’ Here Jack’s eloquence was cut short by an inkstand | which struck him on the chest,and knocked him off the chair from which he had been spouting. A deluge of ink covered his face, his shirt, and hands. It was: Mr. Mole, who, having freed himself from Ambonia’s frantic embrace, had, in his rising passion at Jack’s flood of eloquence, tried to put a stop to it. “That’s ahot un for me,” muttered Jack, spitting out a mouthtul of ink. ‘“ Wonder what they make ink of? It don’t taste nice by any manner of means,” he added. Loud cheers had followed Jack’s address, and the ut- most confusion prevailed. Every one began to talk at once. The chaff directed ‘against Mr. Mole was fast and furious. In & moment the unhappy professor saw that his career at Oxford was cut short by this untimely episode. Cursing Ambonia in his heart, but afraid to offend her, his face was the picture of despair. Never could he survive the ridicule whic the native wit and the inventive genius of Oxford, would heap upon him, He might have lived down the mistake of the talk- ing monkey, and he had already tided over the ancient stone with the Rupic inscription of Drun. Kasaf. | Iddier. But Ambonia’s presence in Oxford was the last straw which was to break the camel’s back. CHAPTER X. MR. MOLE TURNS HIS ATTENTION TO SCIENOE. For once in his life Mr. Mole was Srm, Calling Jack to his side, he said; “Harkaway, will you do me a favor ?’’ “Tt depends upon what itis, sir,” replied Jack. “Bring those little fiends up-stairs, one under each «What for?” “T must take Ambonia away. You have been very indiscreet. Why did you say what ygu did to all my pupils here ?” ; “ Only told the truth, sir,” said Jack. ‘Is thereany harm He that? Was it a virtue in Athens to tell false- hoods?” “Tush ! Tush!” said Mr. Mole, “ What language is that, sir,” ~~ “Tush is English, and means what the military would call cease firing ; that is, be quite, for goodness sake.” Ambonia came up to them and began to talk loudly in her own language, while Mr. Mole, endeavoring to pacify her, drew her towards the door, and led her up stairs. : He was the owner of the whole house. ace housekeeper was an aged lady by the name ot mms. 4 Mrs, Bimms was one of those dear creatures who have had one husbaad, and want another. Her first unfortunate was a tradesman, who at his death left her very poorly off. Two children had blessed her union with commerce, but they were out in the world gaining their own living. When Mrs. Bimms came to take charge of Mr. Mole’s ‘establishment, she fixed her eye upon such an eligible o elor. She even went so far as to hope that he might marry her some day. Sack called it a swivel eye, and he he did so adyisedly, for Mrs, Bimms had an abnermal squint, and seemed always looking round the corner. This wonderful eye could look anyway and in any direction. She was in the kitchen preparing a snug little dinner when Ambonia stopped before the house. It had entered into her calculations that she might asked to partake of the repast. ve then nan Ambonia enter Mr. Mole’s establish- ment, she was much surprised, and her astonishment increased when she saw her master leading the dark lady up the staircase, “He must be mad,” she said to herself, Only the day before she had her fortune told by a local soothsayer, who informed her in return for the payment ofone shilling, that she would be married again, and that her second husband would be a learn- ed man; This prediction clearly pointed to Mr. Mole. But as the prophecy was dictated by the fortune- teller’s knowledge ot Mr, Bimms occupation, there was nothing very pvonderful in it after all. Mrs. Bimms rushed up stairs after Mr. Mole and the dark lady and caught them on the landing. “What is the meaning of this, sir?” she asked, breathless with indignation. “Oh, it is you, Mrs. Bimms,” replied Mr. Mole. ‘“This lady is a princess in her own country—I have abroad as you know.” ret have dard oe, sir,” replied the housekeeper coldly. «Well, the fact is we are old friends, and the princess will stay here with her children.” Mrs. Bimms gave a faint scream. “J didn’t think you had dcne it, sir,’ she cried, "You, are such a respectable gentleman, too.” a SSS EN TE ALT SE RE Ge LE PRATT SE SE «You must do asI tell you; goand get some ter If we | man’s perfidy, aud looks upon his helpless offspring ? | ready.’ “Not me, sir, No,I’m an henest Englishwoman, and I ain’t a going to wait on no foreign hussies.” “Tsay you must.” | iron,” replied Mrs. Bimms, crossing her arms defi- antly. ** What does she say, my cherished one?’ asked Am- bonia, looking wp in Mr. Moles {age caressingly. «Nothing ; it’s all right,” returiféd the professor, in the Malay dialect. ‘The children shall come up directly, and I will get you some refreshments. Go into my bedroom and make yourself comfortable. I will get rid of my pnpils and rejoin you. Ambonia went into the handsome)y-furnished room, and was enraptured with the beauty of everything. Shutting the door, Mr. Mole said,sternly to Mrs, Bimms: “Ont of my house, if you please.’”” “Oh,” replied Mrs. Bimms, with a sarcastic smile, » if =" a question atween black and white, I’m willing oO quit.” “ Be off,” said Mr. Mole angrily. ‘I will be obeyed in my own house.”’ ‘‘Oh, you poor, weak, silly creatures,” returned Mrs, Bimms. ‘I should be ashamed to own you as a mas- ter. Fond of.a black woman? Well, I never.” She began to laugh heartily. “Ha, ha. ha!” she exclaimed. ‘ “* Like ’em black he does, Ha, ha, ha !” ‘" “ Fiend |”? answered Mr. Mole. “Let me pass.’’’ He pushed rudely by her, and re-entered the lecture room, ; During his absence, Jack and some other men had been having some fun with the children, who were ' crying bitterly. * f Each had a smoking cap on, and they had ‘been gro- je mid marked with chalk about the hands, face, and ‘eet. This had the effect of burnt cork on a white person. 4 — the meaning of this ?” exclaimed Mr: Mole, aghast. ! “ Piebald kids, sir,” replied Jack. ‘ Make their for- tune inacarayan at a fair.” “ Do you want to distract me?” answered the pro- fessor, plunging his hand wildly into his hair. “Not more than usual, sir,” said Jack, “T shall leave the university.” ’ “Don’t do that,” said aman from the New, “ you’a bea loss.” “Gentlemen,” exclaimed Mr. Mole, “ unhappy cir- cumstances, over which I hayé no control, — com- pel me to close my classes. Your subscriptions shall not be payable. Leave me,if you please, until hap? pier times arise.’’ : : The men quietly left thehouse, telling him not to worry himself, but to put on a white wifs to counter-~ balance the influence of the black ones, Only Jack and Harvey remained. rd “ Harkaway ,’’ said Mr, Mole, solemnly, “Iam a dis- graced and ruined man. You have exposed me. to you I owe my shame.” “Marriage, sir, has its obligations,” answered Jack, “Granted, but why should you expose me ?” “T felt for Ambonia,.”” ; “For that black’”’—— 4 “Don’t call names, sir,” interrupted Jack, “She was the wife of your bosom.” “Tn Limbi—yes.” «What is the difference ?”? “Over inthis country one goes in for color, and white is the fashion,” answered Mr. Mole, who in the midst of his grief could not repress asmile. - “Did she not bear you a child? Isn’t Alfura dead? —and you have not shed a tear to her memory.” “Perish Ambonia, as Alfura perished,” replied Mr. Mole.’ “Iam aruined man. “How can I show my face again in the university at Oxford?” ~ “Tam in an awful stew, What the dickens canI do, A When I’m hunted from the U- niversity of Oxford ?" Bang Jack. ‘ “ Harkaway,do you ‘want to madden me ?” exclaimed Mr. Mole. i “Shouldn’t mind doing it for a change, sir,’”” replied Jack. ‘What do you think of the ancient Athenian now. sir? Very moral people, weren't they ?”” “la Mr. Mole seized a pips filled and lighted it, ’ He then went to a brandy and drank nearly a tumbler full. “ Give us aswig, sir,’ said Harvey. . “You want none. Yon have not the agitated ming with which Iam tormented,” answered Mr. Mole. “Going to got tight, sir?” asked Jack. Mt. Mole)puffed away at his pipe in silence, ' “Tf you don’t watch it, sir, you'll haye Ambonig down after you ,’’ said Harvey. ery. “Music !” exclaimed Jack. : : “Strangle the brutes,” said Mr. Mole. ‘Oh, if amy: body would put them in the water-butt.” © While this conversation was taking place down stairs, a scene was occurring at the upper part of the house. Mrs. Bimms no sooner saw Mr. Mole descend the” staircase than she went into the bed-room. ' 2 “ eg ugly, black thing, you !” she exclaimed, shaking er fist. ‘ Ambonia did not understand her, butshe guessed from her manner that she was saying something insulting. : Re “Who you be ?” she asked im the little English she had picked up. “Your betters any way; I ain’t blaok, nor I don’s have to run after gentlemen who don’t want me.” (Ae Get_ont of tits,” saidJAmbonia, angrily, «And 1 say 1 won’t. There that’s flat—flatas a _ Ieis . pboard, took outa bottle of The children, who were still on the table, began te © 3 i
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ANI tit BLACK BAND, LAKKRAW AL “Vl see you—further first,’ replied “Mrs Bima} ana laughing merrily as she told him in her own lan- churn’s gone wrong, or they’re hard up: for butter resolutely. — She was a firmly-built woman o1 forty-five, well nourished upov stout brandy, and her eyes winked wickedly. he It was evident thas she meant mischief. ~ A tall chimney-pot hat of Mr. Mole’s was hanging on raking it down with the quickness of lightning, Ambonia seized Mrs. Bimms by the arms, passed them behind her back,and while in a helpless condition, pushed the hat over her face *atil her head was in- elosed in it, and the brim rested on her neck “There!” she said, kicking he’, and still holding herarms, “Take you that and that. You wantee my husband. Megiveyou something, you white ugly fat Yoman.”’ Tearing a piece of the skirt of the housekeeper’s dress, she tied her hands behind her back. Dismal moans came from beneath the hat. Ambonia seized Mrs. Bimms’s black hair. Tt came off, being only achignon. - “Ha!she not wear her own hair,’ cried Ambonia. ‘Me beatee white woman beast.” She pushed her down stairs, and with pleasure saw her fall down the first flight; then she returned to the bed-room, and began to arrange her linir in a fascinat- jing manner before the glass, in» expectation of Mr. Moloe’s speedy return. : 7 Jack had in the meantime pres the black children by giving them s penny each. “Dance, you little demons, dance,’’ he cried in their ewe language. Be They began to move about, first on one leg and then ‘on the other. “Don't the little Moles do it well?’ said Harvey, “Peace, Harvey, peace ?”’ exclaimed Mr. Mole. ‘* My reason is tottering.” At this moment irs. Bimms groped into the room. Af the strange spectacle of a female, her head hidden m a man’s hat, Mr. Mole sprang from his seat. “Bless us and save us! what is it?” he exclaimed. Jack ran to hor, and cut the string which bound her arms. The housekeeper removed the hat with difficulty and gasped for brenth. “7V- have her life!’ she ‘cried. “She did it—that black thing he calls the princess.” : “ Don't, my dear Mrs, Bimms; forbear!’ cried the wretched Mole, ool 4 ’ — be the death of her. Yes, I will, if I’m hanged ‘or it.” “ Wont something less content you?” said Jack, “Let her down easy; have her kids.” “al” cried Mrs. Bimms, as her eyes lighted upon the children. She seized one under each arm and ran frantically “away. on Awful yells arose. “Stop her!” exclaimed Mv. Mole. ‘For the love of heayen stop her. The woman will musder them.” Jack, Harvey and Mr. Mole followed her as speedily as possible. She took the direction ofthe back yard. When they overtook her she was standing compla- cently before the water-butt. “ Where are my helpless infants?’ demanded Mr, Mole. There was no reply. “ Woman, I demand my children,” he cried, shaking her, fearful of the consequence of the dreadful crime. “Look iu the water-butt,” replied Mrs, Bimnis, In an instant Jack and Mr. Mole laid hold of the Yuge tub, and overturned it, ‘he water rolled out. - So did the little half drowned Moles, They were not dead. The only effects of the immersion was to wash off the chalk with which Mr, Mole’s pupils had orna- mented them. Taking them up tenderly, Mole turned to go w stairs with them to their mother. - “ Harkaway,” he said, “ guard that fury.” He pointed to his housekeeper. «J dismiss her,” he added. “She can call for her wages in the morning. Put her out.” “Now then, old girl,” said Jack, as Mr. Mole disap- peared with tho children, “ you’ye got to'step it.” “What?” exclaimed Mrs. Bimms. “Your name’s Walker. Out of this,” “T ain't agoing. “Ayn’t you? We'll séé@ bout that,” replied Jack. *Off you go. Quick step; march, One ata time is quite enough for Mr, Mole, ” Mrs. Bimms found herself being gently put out of the yard by the tradesmen’s entrance. Whien she was in the street, she kicked at the door, When she screamed and eventually called- Policet” But thinking better of it, she went to her friends, who did not live far .off, and made them; acquainted with her grievances. The little Moles were put to bed, and had muffins and tea given them. semaine Zhey asked for rice and sugar, which they had. Then they cried because they had eaten too much, and their mother slapped them, after which they cried themaelves to sleep. Ambonia and Mr, Mole descended to the drawing- _ “oom, where Jack and Harvey was smoking cigars and drinking beer. P Ambonia went up to Jack and kissed him, whereupon he Kiegod Der back by. “Tsay, Harkaway, I can’t allow that,’ exclaimed Mr, Mole. ~ oi “It’s only a compliment, sir,” answered Jack; ‘‘ and gow what are you going to do?’ “That is more than 1 know,” replied Mr. Mole | guage that she had forgiven him for deserting her, and was so pleased to see him again. She had come over to England in amerchant vessel, her friends supplying her with moneys But when she arrived in London, she could not find him as she expected, and soon her money was gone. When she was reduced to destitution she determined to go all over the country with the children, until she found him. F Fortune had crowned her labors with success. Ambonia was happy. Mr. Mole was not. That made all the difference. When Jack saw her petting Mr. Mole, he exclaimed : “ Now the spooning is going to begin, I’d better cut it. See you again soon, sir. Beg to congratulate you on your good luck.” . “Good-night, Harkaway,” said Mr. Mole. ‘I wish i the same luck you have bestowedon me. Good- ye ; perbaps forever.” The young men took their leave and went back to Jack’s rooms at St. Aldate’s, where they had some cot- fee and sat down ‘o chat. . “ Will Mole do'anything desperate, do you think?” asked Harvey. “Not he,” replied Jack. ‘Mole isn’t a fool.” “But thts affair will smash -him up. ‘It will be all over Oxfordjtc-morrow, and he won't keep any pupils.” “He's got the money for which he sold his tea gar- den in Ghina,” said Jack, “and that will keep him.” “ Wasn’t it too bad of you toexpose him ?’’ “Not a bit; he shouldn’t do such things. If a man will marry two wives he must take the consequences.” “The consequences in his case are niggers.” Tack laughed, and some other men coming in, the matter was not further talked about. Two days passed. Then Jack went to Mr. Mole’s house, and it was shut up. He was told that Mr. Mole‘had gone a little way into the country to live. : It was quite a fortnight before Jack got any definite information respecting Mr. Mole, Then it came from Sir Sydney Dawson, who had been riding in the country.. Sir Sydney said he had seen Mole sitting in front of a rustic cottage with two black children running about, and Ambonia making him ers and soda. “What's his game?” asked Jack. “ Science, I think,’? replied Sir Sydney. he told me he was making a balloon.” “ What for?” “That's just what I asked him, and ho replied thut “Because he wanted to get away from this country. His face was awfully scratched, and his right hand was bound up with rags.” 4 “He's been fighting with Ambonia. I knew how it would be,” said Jack. “ But the balloon licks ma.” “He meant, to sail away and cut the connection.” “Shouldn't wonder,” replied Jack. “Where will he sail to?’ “Depends upon circumstances, He's got # large tent in which the balloon apparatus is being fixed. I saw the preparations, and the car will be grand.” “Does Ambonia suspect anything ?* “Not she. Her nature is very simple,” replied Sir Sy@pey, “from what I saw of her.” “Fancy Mole going in for science, Wonder if he would give a fellow a lift in his bal 9 “TLet’s ask him. My duns are worrying me awfully, and I shouldn’t mind a journey somewhere,” answered Sir Sydney. “When will it be ready ?” “Oh, not for months,” he said, “I's a very swell affair, and will cost alot of building and take time.” “T'llkeep my eye upon him, Poor old Mole he was always in trouble while he knew me,” said Jack. “If that is the case he would cut your acquaintances if he is wise.” “Can't doit, dear boy,’? answered Jack. * I have a power of persuasion, which neither moles nor b: can resist.” a “Don’t you try it on with me, or I will shunt you an hour,” replied Sir Sydney Dawson. smiling. Monday knocked at the door. “What is it 7” exclaimed Jack. “A note from Mist’ May, sir,” answered Monday. “Give it here. What a nuisance that fellow is.” Jack opened the note. after asking Dawson’s per mission to do so. As he proceeded to read its contents, he looked pale and a dark frown gatheredgon his brow. — OHAPTER XL. A MYSTERIOUS PARCEL Seep hy that Jack was upset, Sir Sydney Dawson ex- claimed: “ Anything disagreeable in the letter? Is your grand mother red or has your sister bolted with the law- yer's clerk ?” b “As Thaye neither one or the ather, you are out in both cases,” answered Jack. ** Perhaps the bank in which your governor puts his money has gone tosmash?” “ Wrong again.” “Then your mother’s favorite cat is dead ?” “ She hates animals, and we have nothing more im portant at home than a painted cock-sparrow—pale yellow sort of color,which we are foolish enough to call a canary, but as it never sings, I have my doubts,” said Jack. “ Governor go in for cows ?” “Yes, he farms.”’ “Then the cows have got the rinderpest—what do ‘on call it ?—cattle disease; or the rick-yard’s burnt a FA ~ came andsat on his uae, patting his face | dewn, or his pet bantams have yot the pip, or the ’ or’ {| “My dear fellow,” replied Jack,“ if you were to guess } for a month, you wouldn’t hit it.” > «¢Let the oracle explain itself. Iam not a good hand at guessing. Unfold the mysterious tale forthwith. or look out for a book ot your head.” “Thank you !’’ exclaimed Jack, ‘The book would not be longin coming back ere But, look here, 4 have had a letter from Gentle May.” “If it’s not an impertinent question, who may the in dividual be? asked Sir Sydney, crossing his legs. “A freshman, and the biggest ass I ever saw.’’ ‘ If; names. go for anything in this sublunary sphere ""—— ames a big word,” exclaimed Jack, “ What was “Allow me to explain. At somebody's lecture the other day,I was taught that a sphere meant a globe, and a globe meant the earth. Sub was Latin for under, and Zunameant the 2n00n, and as our earth is beneath the moon, I intended to convey the idea of the world on which we aow sit and smoke to your limited com- —— 2 , “ Thanks,’ replied. Jack, ly. “Go on.” “That's all.’ ‘ ag “You mean that Gentle May ought from his name to be a fool?” ” “ Exactly,” answered Sir Sydney. “ He isn’t,” said Jack.’ “1 have found him just the contrary, but he has riled me in this letter.” ie ped it is from the party with the funny name,” ag,’ “Serves you right, When you are established at place and have friends, you should: not pick up with @ lot of new fellows. you know nothing about,” replied Dawson. r 4 if “He brought a letter of introduction to me.” i All the more reason why you should fight shy of im.” «“ But the introduction "— “Hate introductions,” interrupted Sir Sydney. “A fellow generally wants to get you into some swindle, or borrow a five-pound note from you, when he gets an introduction.” “He is sc simple, though.” “ Possibly. hat does his simplicity consist in, ix the present instance ?” “ He has got the toothache and can’t goout—asks me to go to the chemist’s and buy him some stuff for his tooth, andthen go to the station and inquire for a parcel for him, which I shall find there, and Iam to be yery careful with it asit contains yaluable property.” “That's pretty good cheek for a sreshman,’’ said Sir Sydney laughing. t “Just what I thought.” “Fancy making a porter of the best oar and the best bat in the university. You should cut this man, Harkaway. It’s bad form to know such fellows.” “It's only his simplicity.” «Hang his simplicity, and him too, to the same tree. That’s what I should say,” replied Dawson. “T shall humor him and go and do his errands.” ‘Likea shop boy,” said Dawson shrugging his shoulders, ** Well there’s no accounting for taste.” “Consider 4 moment.” i “Tt does not want any consideration. All T know is, ifa fellow askedme to fetch and carry for him, I should refer him to his scout.’* “J'll do that afterwards, It-will be a good joke to do ashe asks. When we were in London last summer, my father had a house in Belgrave Square. Lord Eccleston called on him, rather badly dressed; and the hall porter thinking he was nobody, said my father was engaged fora few minutes, and asked his lordship to go to the nearest ‘pub’ and get hima pint of porter, giving him the halt-pence, and saying he should lave a penny for bimselt.’’ “Did he do it ?” “Yes and has told the. story as a great joke ever since. The porter almost inted, when he knew who Eccleston was, and that he was a cabinet minister with twenty thousand a-year.’” “ Well,” said Sir Sydney, “if you are going in for the errand-boy sort of thing, I will see you throngh it, Let’s get him a a’p’orth of arsenic for his tooth, and eo a = roy head.” Bgl : * We wouldn’ ave so ferociously as that,” swered Jack, putting on his hat. r, ys = They left college together, and went to the rallway station, where they asked for, and obtained a heavy parcel, directed to.Mr. Gentle May, Jack put it under bis arm, and as they strolled back, they observed Kemp standing inside the entrance to ® small hotel near the station. “There is that fellow Kemp,” said Jack; “If it aes *t for Pret like a beer.” * Never mind him. certainly should not kee of aplice because ha was in it.” answered Sir a Sot «Como in, then.” They entered,and were asked into the privaate, intu which Kem followed them, Be Too os Neither Sir Sydney nor Jack took any notice “of im, and he pretended to be very much engaged in peaisng the charms of a young lady who o: i armaid., When Jack’s back was turned, the ook up & newspaper and very dextrously pinned it to his cout collar. é Two or three people came in and in to laugh. First of all the merriment was subdted, then it do generated into a loud guffaw. 1x Turning round, Jack exclaimed: __ «“ What on earth are these fellows laughing at?” “Country bumpkins will laugh atanything,” answep ed Sir Sydney. Kemp approached the mantlepiece with acigar ty his mouth and a piece of paper in his hand. Asmall fire burnedin the grate, more to keep @ kettle boiling than because the weather was cold.
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w KARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND. oaoSOEOoooEoOoeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee ee eeeeEeEeaeaeEeEeaeaeaeaEeaeaeaeeeeeee |. “Tf youdon't want all the fire, you fellows,” he ex-| give him what for. It was like his infernal elaimed,“‘ perhaps you will kindly let me get a light.” Sir Sydney moved 8 little, but Jack did not stir. Kemp bent down, and putting his arm between them, lighted his cigar, but at the same time managed to set fire to the paper pinned to Jack’s back. “Thank you,’’ he said and withdrew. ; A brief space elapsed. Suddenly Sir Sydney exclaimed : ‘Curious smell of fire, isn’t there?” “Sol thought,” replied Jack. “Smoke too. Wonder where it is.” “ Ask the barmaid,’’ said Jack. “I say Miss,’’ exclaimed Sir Sydney, ‘‘is there any- thing burning on your premises?” The barmaid looked round and replied: “T think “On fire ?’ “ Yes.”’ At this moment Jack experienced an unpleasant sen- sation about the regions of his legs His calves were unpleasantly warm. “ By Jove!’ he exclaimed. ‘I’m hot.” “Why, who the deuce has done this?” said Sir Syd- ney. ‘‘ There is a burning newspaper fastened to your bec: sae your gown and coat tails are smoking like mad.” ‘Send for the engino,” suggested the barnaid, “Pull it off, somebody !” cried Jack. He grew alarmed, and ran wildly about. Zhe more he moved the faster the flames burned. Kemp with difficulty refrained from laughing. In his terror Jack ran into the street, and very swiftly Sir Sydney ran after him, and after tearing off the paper, forced. him on his back in the gutter, down which some dirty water was running. 5 “ You'll be all right directly, oldman,” he exclaimed. “ How are the legs ?”” ‘ “Warmish,” replied Jack. He rose, and Sir Sydney surveyed the damage. “Bags rather burnt.’’ ho said; ‘‘coat-tails ditto, body of coat injured by water, ditto gown, cap unhurt’ haying rolled into rain. Uninsured.” “ Who did it ?”’ asked Jack, “ Query,” said Sir Sydney. Jack found himself the center of an admiring crowd. “Hurrah, boys! here’s another guy!” exclaimed a townsman. There was a roar of laughter. ‘Better erect another martyrs! memorial,’’ said a second. “He’s Cranmer, come to be burnt over again,” shouted a third. Jack was getting wild. Sir Sydney saw this, and said: “Come inside,’’ “Banged itI do, I'll have it out of somebody,” re- plied Jack, : : “You must pitch into me first, then,” replied Daw- son, dragging him forcibly into the house. “Let go, Dawson,” said Jack, when inside the bar. “T won’t be mauled and messed like this by anyone.”’ “It’s only his Dawson,” replied the baronet, coax- ingly. ‘ He don’t mind his Dawson, does he?” “Don’t bea fool. Where's Kemp? He knows some- thing about this, I’ll swear.” “Ofcourse ; Kemp was the only man in the bar. He must have done it; I'll swear I didn’t. I hate those practical jokes.” : “If I thought you would lower yourself to such a thing, I’d never speak to you again, that’s all,’ said Jack mrseele. t “Perhaps Ishonld survive it, but I take my dick it wasn’tme. Didhis angry passions rise, and get the better of him ?"’ **T am wild,” replied Jack. * Enough to make you.” : se Let's get back. Kemp’s sloped, Lexpect, for I don’t see him. : ‘o's wise,” replied Sir Sydney. “Hold hard a yeur friend is on fire.” “ minute; I haven’t paid. What have we had?” “Two glasses of bitter,” replied Jack. The barmaid had discreetly vanished, as well as Kemp. Only # boy was at the bar. — ? “Now then, stupid,” exclaimed Sir Sydney ; “wake up, stupid ; I don’t know your other name.’ “ What is it, sir?’ asked the boy. “Two bitters. Catch,’ said Sir Sydney, who threw him a sixpence. “That's right, sir,” saidthe boy. “Bitters is three- pence to Oxford gents in a private bar. “ Bismarcked again,’ answered SirSydney. “But no matter, Give me that sixpence back, boy. It was a bad one.’’ “Duffer, sir? I thought it was thinnish,” said the boy, unsuspectingly, handing back the coin. Dawson put it in his pocket. “We shall pay when we are passing,” he said, “ However, you will have your revenge in twostomach- aches, for the beer was beastly bad.’ The boy stared blankly at him. i “Where’s my parcel ?’”’ asked Jack, looking around im. “ What parcel ?’” : “Why. May’s; the one we went to the station for.”” They looked every where for it, but it was gone. “What a nuisance,” said Jack. ‘I’ve lost the parcel. FYesgaps some of those fellows at the bar sneaked it while I was on fire. “More unlikely things than that have happened in fais sublunary” : “ Bother yonr sublunary « What shall I say to May ? “Tell him it was a plant of Kemp's, which I believe i meally was.” “Do you?” 1 “LZ do, indeed.” 3 that fellow,” said Jack, ‘“Ishould like to spheres,’? interrupted Jack. set me on fire, if he did doit.” “ Who else could ?” “It must have been while he lighted his cigar.” _ “No doubt,’’ replied Sir Sydney. ‘I must tell May how it happened, and if there was anything very valuable in the parcel, I will pay him for it. ‘“ Can’t say more than that, cam 1?'’ “No; it the fellow is agentleman, he will see it ina moment.” “Will you come with me to his rooms?” asked Jack. “No, thanks. Kindly excuse me. Not aman I want to know at all.’” ‘ “Please yourself.” “You'd better re-gown, and put on another pair of bags,” laughed Sir Sydney. — “T will, when I get back to the college. Come along,” replied Jack, They walked back together. Jack was notin the best of tempers, and when he got to his rooms he took-off his boots and threw them at ens head, because he got between him and the ight. a “ What um throw um. boots, sare,” asked Monday. ae to see! which are} hardest, um boot or um ead ?”” “ Get out,” replied Jack. ‘‘ I’m ins nasty temper.” Monday retired, rubbing his head, and Jack prepared to go to Gentle May's room by himself. CHAPTER XII. AN EXPOSURE. Asnonrt time after the scene in the hotel Kemp made his way into Gentle May’s room. He had something carefully hidden under his arm and covered with his gown. May was evidently waiting for him, ae he got up eagerly from his seat, and exclaimed : “Well, did it come off all right?” “ Beautifully,” replied Kemp. “ How did you manage it?” “ Easily enough. As | thought, the; hotel near the station, and I began game.’” «Where is the parcel ?’”” ~ “ Here,” replied Kemp, throwing it on the table. May hastily took it up and hid it away in a drawer. “Only a flat-iron and s couple of horses’ shoes,’ he exclaimed, with a laugh, and in a very different man- ner from that he usually assumed. « It doesn’t matter,’ answered Kemp, also iaug) ing, “ Jewelry is heayy when it is made of pure gold, and as long as the parcel is heavy, you can swear it con- tained what you like.”’ “Go on with your story,” replied May. “ T spooned the barmaidawfully. She is a nice little tit, and,I rather liked it, I’m on there.” “No, be hanged if youare. She’s an old spoon of mine.”’ “Never mind; we shan’t quarrel about her,” an- swered Komp. “ There are plenty of little fillies run- ning about loose, and only wants bresakingin. As I was saying, I spooned her, and got her to fasten a newspaper to Harkaway’s collar with a pin.’ “What was that for?’ « You'll hear directly. Don’tbe so awfully anxious.’’ “All right; spin along,’’ replied May, lighting a cigar, and pouring out some beer. * What's that?” asked Kemp. “ Malt; just fetched from the buttery.” “Give me @ pull. I hand’t time to drink, and I’ve pelted ‘along so beastly hard to get up here, that I’m as dry as a ditch in summer.” May pushed the tankard over to him, and he drank hear came into the 0° play my little tily. ‘oat better?” asked May, “I do after a good beer, always.’’ “Stones better,” answered Kemp. ‘ Well, when I his done, I went behind Mr. Harkaway to light a t a little bit of fire there was to boil the kettle, doing so Iset the paper ina blaze.”’ “What alark! Wasn't there a chyike ?” “ Rather. Dawson was with him, and when Harka- way ran into the street in a funk, he put him in the utter.’”” 5 Whereupon you sloped with the plunder?” tly.” - «at Ze “And let them fight it out.” “ You're right, my pippin,” answered Kemp. now fork out the chips. I’vyeearned them, May gave him four five-pouhd notes. “ Twenty quid,” he said; “that’s what we agreed for, isn’t it?’ “To a brown; thanks,” replied Kemp, storing the money away in his trousers pocket, as if it had been cigarette paper. “ What will Harkaway do? inquired May, after a slight pause. « Kick up # shine, I expect.’ « With whom ?”” < “Moe. I shall be accused of getting up the distur bance, in which the parcel was lost,”’ “You are very much alarmed at that, of course ?”” “Very,” replied Kemp, eer , « [| know what I shall do, and ifI don’t make it hot for him, I"-— There was a knock at.the door, which Kemp had in- advertently left open. . J “By Jove!’ said Kemp. ‘* ‘There he is! a “T wish you were out ofit. But it can t be helped. Stand by me,” replied May, turning a shade paler, The next moment Jack entered the room. “ Perhaps I am intruding ?’’ “ Not at all,” replied May. . Fi ‘«T was not aware Mr. Kemp was 4 friend of yours.’ “ Quite a recent acquaintance, I assure you.” “Ts it an offense for me to know & fellow with whom 8a) ci “ And cheek to | you are on terms of intimacy ?”’ asked Komp, insolently, “I don’t wish to talk to you at present, therefore, oblige me by drying up,"’ replied Jack. Kemp walked to the window, and putting his hands in his pockets, begun to whistle. “How's your toothache ?”’ asked Jack. “Better, thanks. Haye you got the stuff?” “No, I forgot it. Awfully sorry.” . “ But you have my parcel, Lhope. Ma sent me some very valuable jewelry in it, and I want to make a few presents to friends who have been kind to me, yourself among the number,” said May. “T got it, and unfortunately lost it.” Gentle May started from his chair. . “Lost it!’ he exclaimed. “Ob, what will ma say Oh, Mr. Harkaway, you cannot haye lost it!” “TJ tell you I have.” “Impossible. What will, ma say? Dear ma! she will be so annoyed,”’ continued May. “Listen tome. This is how it happened,” said Jack, as he related all that had occurred, May remained silent, kicking his feet about restlessly. “If there is anything valuable in the parcel, and you will tell mne the amount, I will gladly pay you,” said Jack, at length. . “A hundred pounds would not cover my loss. Oh, Mr. Harkaway, Iam sorry for you, but I must tell the police,’’ replied May. “Sorry for me? Why?” “The circumstances are so suspicious.” | “ What the deuce do you mean?” said Jack, all the blood coming into his face. “ i ie the parcel was valuable in my note.” “ And you live in a fast set,” “ Hang me if I take you meaning,” replied Jack. “I don’t say so, but there’s ill-natured people who. would say you—a—stole the jewelry,” said May. This was more than Jack could stand. “You coutemptible little humbug!" he said, “I'll have your life. How dare you say such a thing to met How dare you?” . He rushed at him, seized him by the neck, and shook him like a rat. Each time he shook him he repeated : “How dare you ?—how dare you?” “Oh, don’t, please, don’t! Ma said I was not strong enough to fight,” gasped Gentle May. : Kemp advanced in a threatening attitude “Let him alone,” he exclaimed. Jack eyed him. “Did you hear what he said ?” he asked. “«Yes.’? “ 4m I not justified in shaking the little beast?” =~ * “No, _He was moré justified in what he said,” said emp. “Oh, was he? Well, I'll polish you off first. I’ve got an account of long standing to settle with you,” answered Jack. : He released May, who sank into a chair, ahd beges to cry. “Oh,” he said, *‘ what would ma say, and Bobby and Tommy, and all my sisters? What a disgraceful scana, in my rooms, too!” Jack threw out his left, and Kemp rolled over on te the sofa. / “Come on,” said Jack, “I'll remember, Mr. Kemp, You don nothing, I can tell you.” Kemp was rather dizzy from the effects of the blow. “Tm not & prize-fighter,” he said. give you something to t perform upon me fot or I. “Let the little fellow alone. A strong man like you ought to be ashamed to hit a littleone like May.” “Is a little man to be cheeky, just because he is small ?” asked Jack Kemp made no answer. . “Tf you won't fight, take that,” said Jack, kicking him, “and sit still while I perform the same operation upon this contemptible cur, who is moresoin my eyes than eyer since J find he knows a man of your stamp.” “My stamp?” said Kemp, retiring again to the window. “Yes, Everyone in Oxford knows what you are, from the dons to the scouts.” “Oh!” groaned May, “that I should ever live to wit- ness such a scene.”’ : “] haven’t begun yet,’’ answered Jack. ‘“ Come out, you whining hound. You'll tellmeI stole yout par-~ cel, will you? Come out!” May refused to move. oe made another dash at 7m, and seized hin by the hair, To his surprise he fell backwards, fpahands of clutching hair, he had simply pulled of ali g Ta an instant he was on his feet. = Before him stood, or rather crouched, in sn attit of abject terror, not Gentle May, but Frank Davis. “Davis!” he cried. “Is this another conspiracy Kicked out of the university, have you dared to dis guise yourself and enter under 4 falsename?”’ There was a dead silence. “This accounts for Mr. Kemp being here, and the # leged loss of the valuable’ parcel,” cried Jack. ‘Weil, you're a nice pair of beauties, anyhow; but, you see, you are not a match for me.” Still neither spoke. - “Wanted to make me out a thief, did you?” con- tinued Jack, between his teeth— wanted fo have me accused of a robbery, eh? Clever idea, but you're licked, my boys. You didn’t do it badly, Mr. Dayis. You took me in as Mr. May, and T’ll compliment you on your acting, but you went little too far with your humble servant.” «Since you have found me out,” said Davis, “I have only to beg for your mercy.” «What do you expect ?”
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HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND. “« Give me till to-morrow to get away out of the uni- versity, and I will never trouble you again.” “J will not give you any time, Mr. Davis,” said Jack. “You w# be exposed at once. You had to leave Omford for a disgraceful abduction; the police haye got ® warrant out against you for your urrest “Spare me,” said Davis, abjectly. ae willl? Wait till I see the dean and the police. I'll hunt you out of Oxford, you vermin.” Davis sank back again ‘m his chair, and covered his faee with his hands. Ho had come back to Oxford after his flight, disguised? in such # manner that he thought he should be able to defy detection. Who could trace any resemblance between the sharp, keen Frank Davis, and the simple, stupid Gen- tle May? One was dark. The latter fair. It was a good plot, but Jack’s luck had frustrated its design. « What's that to you?” replied Kemp. ‘“ Mind your own business. If it had uot beem for you, this would not have happened.”’ Jack was silent. He felt that he had been the indireet cause of Davis's death, and he was sorry. The man had done nothing or command his friendship. On the contrary. He had been his determined enemy. Still it was very shocking to see anyone stricken down in this awful way, in the pride and strength of youth, The fall from the second-floor window was quite enough to account for death. ’ In melancholy silence the shutter was carried away. At this juncture Sir Sydney Dawson joined the crowd, «« What is the diversion ?”” he exclaimed. “ Davis has committed suicide,” replied Jack. “ Davis |" ‘« Yes,” said Jack, abstractedly. “ But,” said Sir Sydney, in surprise, ‘I thought Mr, Dayis had left the university, and that St, Aldate’a to deserve his sympathy c Of course, his hope and end was to ruin Jack in some | was free from his unsavory presence.” way. First of all, he tried to make him brtsak his neck, by monty riding his vicious horse. Then, all the time—he wished to make him out the stealer of the pretended jowelry in the parcel. If this had been circulated, it would have done Hark- away a great deal of harm. ; Gentlemen are particular. They do not like to have their friends talked about. “What do you mean to do?” asked Davis at length. “T have proved that you came back to Oxford under a false name, when you had taken your real name off the books, Youareanimpostor. Youhavecommitted an offense against the law, by carrying off a girl against her will, and keeping her confined in a laborer’s cot- tage. If that is not enough to ruin you forever, I don’t know what is,”’ replied Jack. : ’ ad Let me go,” said Davis, “I'll return to Singa- pore.” “‘T can’t trust you,” answered Jack. ‘The police and the college authorities must deal with you. acting is too good for me to sleep easily while I know you are about.” Driven temporarily mad, Dayis paced the room, his face conyulsed with passion. “Have you no mercy ?” he asked, stopping in front of Jack. “Have you shown me any ?” replied Jack. “The fact was, [loved Emily.” “Why should you hate me in consequence ?”’ “ Because I saw there was no hope for me while you ~ Myed,’”’ said Davis. “And therefore you wanted to kill or ruin me. Thank you. I’m obliged to you—sincerely obliged,” answered Jack, sarcastically. “ Let me go away. I swear you shall never sea or hear from me again.” . “T will not.” Jack spoke in a tone of decision, “ Kemp,”’ said Davis. “ Well,” said Kemp. “Take this mam away. I want to get out of the room,’? “T can't interfere. He’s too big for me,” answered Komp, who was a coward in his heart. « By Heaven !’’ screamed Davis; “I how.” He made arush atthe door. © Jack’s iron frame interposed, and he was frustrated “in this attempt. The window was open. He took ono glance at it. One long, mad, despairing glance, “T cannot be exposed and dis ed,’’ he muttered, “ITmust go. Imust! I must! I MUST!’ The excitement under which he was laboring was too much for him, Making a wild spring, he rushed to the window,. * jumped on the sill, and waved his arms, “ Ourse you!” he cried, ' ‘May my dying curse cling to both of you !’? The next moment he had thrown himself into the quad, He fell headlong. “Save him—stop him! For God’s sake, save him |’ exclaimed Jack, who did not believe he was in earnest, till he saw him fall. =e Kemp did not move. He stood like a marble statue, with blanched lips and motionless hands. : Will get out some OHAPTER XIII, JACK IS HAUNTED, vacx wasthe first: to recover his presence of mind. Running do tairs, he entered the quad, and found Davis lying on his back, apparently dead, the blood eozing from a wound in his head. The miserable young man, ina moment of frenzy, had commited suicide.” He could not bear the disgrace which would follow exposure, and his southern blood was inflamed to such an extent.that he was not master of himself. In an instant Kemp was by‘his side, He knelt down and put one hand on Dayis’s heart, while he held his watch open in the other and looked at the second hand. R Asmall crowd had collected round them, consisting ef undergraduates and others whe were crossing the quad, “Ts he dead ?’’ asked Jack. “ Yes,,”’ replied Kemp, briefly. <a are you going to take him?’ asked Jack again. : Your | with Kemp's asid—Kemp being in the secret | well I did not do: “Ah, you don’t know. I went to Gentle May’s Lfound that May was Davis in disguise. He ac- cused meofstealing his parcel, which you know yery made a rush at him, his wig eame off and when he found he was discovered, and I meant to eEece him, he went mad, and jumped out of the win- ow.” “ Whereis he now?" “ Kemp has taken him away somewhere.” “ Poor beggar! what an end,” said Sir Sydney. The men who were standing around went away after hearing the explanation, and dividing into twos and threes, began to talk about the strange occurence, Sir Sydney took Jack’s arm, and drew him toward the gateway. Jack followed passively. Turning down a by street, they found themselves near the Randolph hotel, and going in, Sir Sydney ‘sige Jack his cigar-case, and ordered a bottle of wine. “What are you going to do ?”’ said Jack, “ You must havea glass of something to keep you up,” replied Sir Sydney ; ‘‘ you area cup too low. This will never do.” | “Tcan’t help reproaching myself with that man’s death,”’ said Jack. “ Have a weed?” “No, thanks ; Iam too nervous to smoke.” “ What was the cause of the feud between you? I really never knew why you and Dayis were at vari- ance.” “ He met mein Singapore,” said Jack, ‘‘ You know I have been abroada great deal. Well, he fell in love with my little pet, Emily, whomlam to marry, as soon as I have taken my B. A. degree.” ° “ Oh, is the happy event to take place ad soon as you are a batchelor ofarts ?”’ “Thopeso. Dayis’s father sent him over here to be educated, and though he treated me very badly in Singapore, he was. not satisfied with that ; he began again here, and palled with Kemp. Between them they have occasioned, me a lot of worry, and another old enemy, Hunston, has stood in with them.” “You ought not to be sorry at Dayis's death.” “Tf he had died in any other way it would have been different ; it’s such a shocking thing, that he’s gone off as. he did. Ishall never got over it.”’ “Nonsense, man,’’ said Sir Sydney. ‘Drink some of this champagne, and don’t be a child.” “ Ho asked me to forgive him.” , Ne very naturally you would not?” * No.” “How could you?” “He said he would never molest me again ifI would let ght get away, and not expose him,’ answered ‘ack. } «: Very likely, indeed, that you were going to be! him,” replied Sir Sydney. ‘How did he explain coming up here again in disguise as Gentle May ?”” — “Tt’s no use talking about it,”’ said Jack, ‘‘He wrong, but I wasn’t right; I ought to haveforgiven him and let him go.” “To give you more annoyance in the future—a very likely thing indeed,” laughed Dawson, ironically. ‘If the man chose ‘to go cranky, and jump out of the win- dow, it was not your fault.” “What will the world say if there is an inquest, which 1 anppose there willbe?” . “Serve him right, that will be the verdict. No one will be sorry for the vicious little Creole.” “Think not ?” asked Jack, lookizg up rather hope- fully. “I'm sure of it.” “ Won't they blame me ?” “ How can they?” If the facts are explained you aro sure to come out ofit with clean hands. If you had pushed him out of the window it would be a different thing altogether; he did it of his own free will and accord, and I cannot see how you are to blame in the matter.” “TIcan’t get the sight out of my eyes. The poor fellow looked so awful, lying in the quad with the blood on his face.” “He wouldn’t let. you alone,” said Dawson. “T shall be haunted by him, I know I shall.” “Rot? Take a weed.” (No, thanks,”’ persisted Jack, “Lsay youshall.. Take this wine, and then we shall have a talk,” Jack was compelled to smoke and take a glass of wine, When the bottle was finished, they strolled about, and dropped into a billiard-room where there were some Oxford men, whom they joined in a game of shell out for shillings. : «‘What are you playing ?” asked Dawsen. “ Only shell out,’ said a voice. It was Harvey. “Is that you, Dick?” asked Jack, looking up with swollen eyes. “Yes, old man; what's come to you ?”’ “T’ll tell you presently.. What's your “Shell out, Very mild; only for bo play ?” said Sir Sydney a?” Pa , . Will you * “Of course he will,” that’s what I Fronghe him here for.” The balls were put on the table and the game began. : bic Harvey had an opportunity of talking to Jack, e said: “ What's all the row between May and Davis, suicide and grief, and all the rest of it? Every one $s talking about it, and they say it wasn’t your fault.” Jack told him alt. “Well, I’m—what shall Isay ?—knocked offmy perch flummoxed, hit him into a heap, sat upon, and utterly extinguished,” exclaimed Harvey. ‘Who'd have thought it ? But didn’t I warn you against the beggar May, alias Davis ? My instinct told me there was some- thing wrong about the swab.” Jack made no reply, and when the game was ores, he went back to college. For a week or more Kemp was absent. At the expiration of that time, as Jack was coming out of chapel, he saw Kemp, and an irresistible impulse induced him to step him. “Mr. Kemp,” he said, touching him on the shoulder. “Well,” replied Kemp, coldly. “Can I have a word with you?” “Certainly, if you wish it.” “What has become of Davis? I have looked in all the Oxford papers, and have seen no account of am inquest.” “Perhaps not,” replied Kemp: “he recovered a lit- tle, and I took him to his friends in London, not wish ing him to die—if he was to die, amongst strangers.” “ And is he dead?” “Yes, three days ago; he was buried yesterday.” “ Where ?”” 2 “In Kensal Green Cemetery, and as soon as the cete. mony was over, I came back,” continued Kemp. ¢ “Was there no inquest ?’? “None. We wished the affair to kept dark, and « you have any regard for the unfortunate man whom pee ere driven to the graye ’—— . “Well, wé won't quarrel about it,” said Kemp ; “all I will say is if you wish him well, new he is gone, you will hold your tongue about the matter. It is a sad- thing, the saddest thing I ever mixed up in. Good- morning.” He passed on, and Jack went back to his reoma te breakfast. Amonth passed, during which time he was yoey gloomy and miserable. 4 Davis’s death preyed upon his mind. Being naturally a good-hearted man, he couly not bear the idea of haying caused Davis's death, through refusing to forgive him, But how was he to tell the man would go -mad, and jump out of the window ? If people will do those extraordinary things, they are alone to blame, and must take the consequences, It wanted but three weeks to the Christmas vacation. Jack was reading hard, and he looked forward eagerly to the holidays, which would enable him to haye @ se , and perhaps turn his thoughts into a more healthy channel. It may seem very silly, but hethought he was haunt. ed by the ghost of Davis. He often sat up till three in the morning —s hard, and when he looked up from his book, he fancie he saw a shadowy form standing near the window, jumping on the sill and falling backwards. He would rush to the window and find it closed, Then he laughed at his silly fancies, but they made an jeprpasion, on him nevertheless, and he grew thin pale. Harvey, with the eye ofan old friend, did not fail te this change in Jack, edie & pe saeme ee said: ‘I feel rather low to-night, Jack, and wanta livenes. Send Monday. for a bowl of bishop to the ‘ Mitre.’ “Tam busy,” replied Jack, looking up from his Herodotus, “ but you can have what you like. Start the black.” : . Monday! ” shouted Harvey. ‘I’mcoming, sare,” replied Monday, from his pri- Ta “Go and get a bowl of bishop, and look sharp.’? “ Give um money, sare,” " : ry “ Go to Putney. Stick it. up to Mr. Harkaway’s tick.” by T never tick now,” said Jack. “ Vl pay for it ; then perhaps you'll drink it when it comes,’’ exclaimed Harvey. “‘T never drink now,’’ answered Jack, id eke acigar?” gg “ [never smoke now; thanks. You know Iam gots up for smalls.” oe «What on earth do you dothen ?”” ** See ghosts,” said Jack, nervously. Harvey laughed. : “ Go and get the bishop, Monday, and be lively over it,” he said, and when the black had gone, he continu- ed—“ the fact is, Jack, old boy, that you are readin too hard, and drinking too much green tea. It won’ do, Stash it, my dear fellow.’ Jack shook his head in a melancholy manner. “ You won't belieye me,” he said. “ But Igive you my word I saw Davis last night,” ** Dayis ?”’ “ His gh “ Where t : ‘ “In this room,” said Jack, earnestly, 7 “How did he comein? Howdid Le go out?” asked Harvey. ost, I mean.” 2”
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12 HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND. “He came in through the door, walked round the room, and how he went away I don’t know, for I fainted.” . ; “Tt's all through reading too hard, Jack,” replied Harvey. “ You were the best oar in the eight, the best bat in the eleven, and your beastly ambition wants you tobe first in the class list.” “No. It’s not that.” . “I'm satisfied itis ; and, before I’d ruin my health, I'd see the classical tripos at the bottom of thesea. Youcan’t be everything.” © “Tdon’t want to be,” said Jack. ~ _ - “Youdo. You want to be an Admirable Crichton. “ Not st all,” replied Jack, feebly. : “You're a@ born athletic, a rowing man, a cricketer, and all that sort of thing, but you are not fit for read- ing heard, Take it easy, and fluke it when you go into the schools.” Monday arrived with a bow) of bishop, and both the young men paid partial attention to it, Jack’s spirits reviving under its genial influence. About eleven o'clock, Harvey, after s noking a rather strong cigar, felt sleepy, and said good-night, while Jack ¢ontinued to read Herodotus. “Out that old Greek buffer,” said Harvey, “ and turn in between the-sheets. You want lots of sleep.” « Then I want what I can’t get. My head aches like “Come down and play at foot-ball, or dosomething.” i “Ul tie a wet towel around my head, and go on sap- P ng.” ‘ “All right—tata.! Wo are agoing to have a hard frost, and I'll have you out as soon as the ice bears,” said Harvey. ® Jack went on reading, turning to his dictionary eve now and then, and at last wetted a towel in the hand- basin, and:tied it around his head, a might have been twelve o’clock when he heard a noise. - ete Looking up he saw the door open, and Frank Dayis entered, or rather glided into the room, 4 His movements were like those of the ghost in the ** Corsican Brothers.’’ Eyes fixed and glassy, a wound on his forehead, which was stained with he fell from the window. Slowly he walked past Jack, and went tothe window. He looked outand turned back. “Who and what are you ?” almost screamed Jack. There was no reply. _ blazes now,” answered Jack, A cold sweat broke out all over him, Mocking laughter seemed to come from various parts of the room, Trembling like a leaf, Jack watched the apparition . with all-devouring sight . 1% made the circnit of the room and regained the oor. F Then it fixed its snake-like eyes upon Jack, raised its * arm threateningly, and vanished. 4 Harkaway let his head fall upon his hands, and for a time lost all consciousness, hited | CHAPTER Xry. THE GHOST ON THE 10H, In was clear to all Jack's frionds that he was far from well. They put it down to work and close study, but Jack knew that he was haunted, and the impression grew ba his zene. . ; ay or two after the apparition we have described Fa pgatheds doves to the house of the first doctor in ord, He was admitted to the consultation-room, the door was shut, and he was alone with Dr. Angus, who was justly considered one of the best physicians of the day. “ What's the matter, Mr.—Mr. Rarksway ?” asked the a looking at Jack’s card, Nothing serious, I ope: ; is can tell you my disease in three words,” said Jack. 0 80. “Iam haunted.” i The doctor looked surprised, “ Are you a reading man?” he asked, “ i have poem ont ng meted “Do you have delusions, or do you see tions 2” “The latter,’ replied Jack. eet “What shape does it take ?’” ‘The form of a man [ used to know, who, partly taney my fault, fell out of the window and broke his neck,” ’ “ Lately ?” “A week or two ago,”) answered Jack. “ Was he a vory dear friend ?”” asked Dr. Angus. “No; on the contrary, he was an enemy, but I up- braid myself for his death.” “TI porceive, Remorse will often produce a morbid state of mind. When and where do you see the ghost ?” “At night in my rooms. ‘Twice I have seen it in the street in broad daylight walking in front of me.” “Pescribe the man to me minutely,” said the doctor. “He is dressed, as he was when he died, with the ex. ception of the cap and gown, Black hair cut short, pale face, and a deep red stain on his temple, just as 1 ep Rael lying in the quad of St. Aldate’s after the ac- “ ’ “Curious case,”’ said the doctor, musingly, “I | see that this fancy is making you quite mely. en “You believe then, it is fancy 7? Jack replied, “Who can speak with cortaluty ?” answered Doctor Angus. “Inever saw a ghost, and never moet anyone who had, but it would be rash on that account to say bi a no wats aie as @ ghost,” « ways laughed at the idea of gh - ly,” said Jack. ‘But since I have eons wis, I can’t help believing that ’”?—— Suddenly he stopped speaking. lood, the clothes he had on when | trembling hands-he pointed in the direction of a little window, partly covered with a gauze blind, which looked into the street, about five feet above the level of the pavement. If a passer-by chose to be rude enough, he could just look over the top of the blind into the physician's study. “ What is the matter?” asked the doctor, alarmed at his visitor's manner. “There |’’ cried Jack. “ Where ?"" ¢At the window. He was staring at me, as he al- bb does, with his great black eyes; oh, I cannot bear it, he haunts me every where.” Doctor Angus rose, and went to the window. There was no one there, and but few people in the street. - “Singular case of delusion,” he said. “But I saw him,” persisted Jack. The doctor shook his head. “Do you think lam mistaken?” asked Jack, “Tm sure of if. You must leave off reading; go more into the open air. I think, if lam not mistaken, you are one of the shining lights of our university, Mr. Harkaway. I seemi to be familiar with your name.” “Tam in the eleven and eight,”” answered Jack. “Exactly. I thought so; now take my advice. Go out more; you shall have some medicine of @ tonic character, and I hope to seé you better soon. Give me a call in a week’s time.” : Jack slipped a guinea into the doctor’s hand, which was his fee, thanked him, and went away. Ho was not at all satisfied with the interview. To have a fixed delusion in oné’s mind at his age is not pleasant, Nor is it agreeable to fancy that you have continually a déad man about you. The weather continued very cold. Every night there was a hard black frost, and the dull, heayy sky and easterly wind promised 4 long con- tinuanco of cold weather, One morning, Harvey burst into Jack’s room after breakfast. “ Hurrah !"" he cried, jumping about like a madman. “ What's the row, Dick?” asked Jack. ‘‘Can’t you stand still, instead of going about like a teetotum ? “The ice bears,” repiied Harvey, ‘‘ and I feel so jolly, T can’t be quiet.” “*Does it bear? Iam glad of that.” ne “So am I, old flick, We'll have some skating to-day. “Where?” * J “T've got an invitation from Holloway. You know Holloway, don’t you ?”’ : ‘ A “Yes. His people live close by, don’t they ?’ “That's it. There is some splendid ornamental water in his governor's park, and we shall beall to our- selves:there. The dog-cart is coming to fetch us at eleven.” “7 saw it again.” “Has he asked m6, too?” ye ine Jack. “Yes, I made him pet you in the party.” “Monday,” called Jack, showing more animation than his face had displayed for some time past. “What um matter now, sare,’ replied Monday, com- ing into the room. “Get my skates ; rub them up well with a bit of sand-paper, and oil the straps.” Monday was shiver.ng with cold. “Wish um was back in Limbi, sare,” he said. jolly cold here.” “That's the beauty of it, you chuckled-headed old cod-fish,’’ replied Harvey, laughing. ‘Monday him got on three flannel shirt, two pair drawers, and four waistcoats, but yet um not warm.” “You extravagant beast. Anyone would take you for an animated old clothes-shop.”’ Monsey went away, rubbing his hands, to get the as - 6 3 Téady, » and Harvey walked over to Holloway’s rooms, and found him waiting for them. dog-cart was in readiness, and the three got in, driven quickly away. ‘they crossed Magdalen Bridge, Harvey noticed a armed man looking at them. “That's Hunston,’’ he exclaimed, “Tsit? What does the fellow wantin Oxford? Mis- chief brewing again,” answered Jack. “Seen any ghosts lately ?” asked Harvey. “No; not for some days.” “You're getting better ; I thought you would,” said Harvey, gladly. ° When they reached the Hall, where Holloway lived, & merry party were assembled. The old squire, his wife, their charming daughters, and four boys home for the holidays, crowded round them, making them welcome. “Come inside, gentlemen,” said the squire, “and take the edge off your appetites. There $ & boar’s head, pheasant pie, and a host of gs, which I hope you will do me the honor to taste,” In yain Jack pleaded that he had breakfasted, He was taken into the dining-room arid compelled to eat, afterwards drinking a flagon of home-brewed. “Now for the ice,” cried everybody. They took up their skates, and joined the party at the front door. The girls and boys all skated, and werein high gleoat the rospect before them. “Hal” exclaimed Mr. Holloway, as the sound of wheels was heard, and a carriage was seen coming up the avenue, “ here is an arrival. The more the merrier.” “Tt’s Mrs. Travers’ carriage,” said young Holloway ; “I know her pair of grays.” At the mention of this name, Jack’s face brightened. Perhaps Emily was with her, as Mrs. Trayers seldom traveled without ber companion. The next minute, the carriage dreve up, and Mrs, “It 80 —_ His face went ashy pale, his frame quivered, and with | Travers and Emily stepped out, followed by two boys and the same number of girls. ‘ om “Emily, my darling,’ exclaimed Jack, shaking: hee hand, ‘this is really a-pleasure, and the More charm- a it was unexpected.) = os 6 bolo. he Misses Holloway looked superciliously at Emily. They could see in a moment that Harkaway: was en- aged to her, and they had particularly asked their rother to bring some nice eligible men with him. The Misses Holloway wanted to get married. Most young ladies do. f eae > bus Bo “T am so glad tosee you, dear Jack,’ answered Emily “But ney. ill you look |” isiw “ ae “Yes, indeed.. Have you been working too hard “Not that I know of,” replied Jack. “It is nothing.’’ He did not like to tell her he was haunted, as thein- telligence would have alarmed her. Presently everyone went to the ice, which was in the center ot a beautiful park. x The ice at one end had been broken up for cattle, and as the water was very deep there, the skaters were warned to keep away from that part. Several hours were spent very agreeably. The ladies enjoytd themselves immensely, and Jack found great fun in teaching Emily to skate. It was growing dark, and Mr. Holloway proposed that the ladies should return and dress for dinner. Jack, Harvey, and Holloway remained, determined to haye another spin ier they left off. “I'm rather coid,”’ said Jack, “I've been coaching Emily, and I think I'll have a livener.’’ “Cut along, I'll lead you a chivey,”’ said Harvey. a No, Y'll go by myself; 1’m nota steam-engine like u. “ Bye, bye,” said Harvey, who spun off like a shot. Jack went off slowly at. first, but increased his pace as he proceeded, and his blood warmed. with the exercise, , t The darkness increased, Innumerable pine and larch trees lined the lake, and com their funereal shadows upon the shining slippery ice. Everything looked dismaland melancholy. » There was a clear course in the center of the lake, of about two miles from end to end. The ice was in excellent condition, being very little cut up, and as smooth as glass, n Suddenly he saw a figure before him. He thought it was Harvey. . “Spin along, old_man,” he said, in high epirits now. “Bet youasoy. Icatch you.” Putting on his best pace, he flew over thedce,. The figure before him made no reply. Skating as fast as he could, Jack tried to.overtake the man in front of him. fee ot that he was nearing the dangerous portion of the lake, ! f The part of which he had been warned; where the ice _Wwas broken. for the cattle, where the depth was twenty feet or more. mort The blinding snow dashed into his face, but he still rushed on, 3d “ T will see who it is,’”’ he said between his set teath. With a fierce determination he urged himself to his highest speed, like a steam-engine under pressure of steam. All at once the figure turned round, i'n Jack was surprised, for although he had only an im- perfect yiew of the features, he certainly thought it ooked like Davis. “Man, ghost, or devil,” he ejaculated, ‘I will see who you are. -1 will have no more tricks played on me.’ ‘ The figure, however, was by this time many yards ahead, and turning towards the other skaters, mingled with them and was lost to sight. { Jack followed, F . He did not think of danger; he forgot the warniugs that had been given him, until a great black gulf yawned straight in front of him. Then it crossed his mind that he was close upon the ibnahigdild oe Cate dt ng his heels down, he tried to stop himself, It a ts late. of The ice gaye away beneath him with avcrash, and he was plunged into the deep water, which eagerly clasped him in its freezing ombrace. |. eo Down, down, he sank many, many feet. His heart almost ceased to beat, and he gave himself up oe lost, . : Jt was not easy to swim in cold water in tlie mid of winter after a week’s hard frost, when you aave'e thick boating-coat on, s hoavy pair of boots with skates attached, and a comforter round your neck which seems to be doing its best to strangle you, But when Jack came to the surface, he struck out. It was so dark, and the snow fell so quickly that he could not tell where the shore was, After swimming. a few strokes, he came in contact with the jagged, broken ice, and cut his hands. He grasped the ragged edge, and tried to haul him- self up. In yain, His limbs were becoming chilled, and he felt cramped all over. ‘Help, help {’”’ he shouted, f The melag#holy sound of the wind through the branches of the pine trees seemed to mock him. ; “Help, help !’’ he continued to ery, “I am drown- ‘he snow beat upon his face and the icy water grew mare icy, until he was chilled to the marrow of his omnes. He thought of his darling Emily. ] The dear little girl whom he loved 80 “much, amd pe loved )iim with the same affection he had for er,
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HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND | 2 ee ae Me thought of the merry party at the hall, which he had hoped to jcin, the meeting at dinner,and the round game at cards in the evening. “Oh! it is hard to die like this,” he muttered— if I must die, after all I haye gone through. But here goes for another try.” He clutched the treachereas ice, and was only re- warded by bresking off several pieces instead of getting a firm footing. His senses gradually began to leave him. Suddenly he heard a voice exclaim: “ Hullo, Jack, whereare you? Hullo-o-n.’’ It was Harvey. “Jack was so far gone now that he could speak only with difficulty. " “Hil? he answered. ‘Dick, comehere. I’min the water.” Swift as Mghtning Harvey skated to the spot. He knew his friend was in danger. “ Where are you?’ he exclaimed, pausing doubtingly 4n the sow storm, “ Here; mind how you come. I’m in the water. Gently, for Heaven's sake l’’ answered Jack, making a last effort. Harvey went down on his hands and knees and crawled to the place from whence the voice proceeded. Soon strong arms had grasped him and laid him on the ice. Soon a loving voice whispered words of encourage- ment to him, But Jack heard them not; he had become insensible. When he came to himself he was lying in a warm bed, alight burned on a table, and a bright fire was blazing in the grate. ;: Harvey was by his side, and when the eyes opened 6 said : es That's right, old man; knew you would be yourself goon.’ g How did it happex ?” asked Jack, trying to remem- Y er. “ Drink this,’" said Harvey, offering him some wine and water hot. ; Presently it all came back to him, * The figure, the fall in the water, his despair, and Harvey's friendly voice. “Dick, you saved my life,” hesaid. “But how did you find me out?’’ “saw you start for a spin, for I wasn’t far off,” re- plied Baer ee ‘and followed you. At first Lkept up with you, afterwards you went at such a lick, I was lett behind, and lost you. spurt on ?”? . “Lsaw @ figure I thought was Davis. Iresolved to make certain, and followed. He swerved round all at What made you put sucha once. I went on and fell in the water, and should | Y: * have been drowned had it not been foryou.” ‘All T can say is, that Kemp and Davis are very art- ful veggars. and it is just on the cards that the Singa- pore fellow is not dend yet,’’ said Harvey, with a smile. “But never mind, you’re all right now. We've kept some dinner hot for you, and Emily says she ho’ see you in the drawiny-room as soon as possible.” “‘ How about the togs ?’’ * Oh, we've found some. The bag may be a little vig, but the coat I-think will be a lovely ft. Jump out.” . ; ° Jack. began te dress himself. He was feeling all right again, Seizing Harvey’s hand, he exclaimed : ‘ “T can never thank you enough, Dick, It would nets been horrible to drown like that, and it was teuch and go.”’ “Tam onlystoo happy to have come up when I did. What a night it is, to be sure. Snow falling in torrents. We're not to go back te-night. The Holloways have eds for us.’” finished dressing, and went down to the dining- room, Where he had a good dinner, 3nd presently joined the ladies in the drawing-room. CHAPTER XV. 4 ¥ISIT To THE ‘' Yaas,”’ Evunyour at Mr. Holloway’s congratulated Jack upon his narrow esoape from drowning. He was very grave. Emily had never found him -o taciturn, The ladies indulged the gent) :men with some music, and after that there was a round game at cards. _ Lhen somebody proposed a carpet dance, which went off very well, though Jack, after a quadrille, pleaded a headache, and went and sat down on the sofa. Emily immediately lett off dancing. Harvey in vain asked her to be his partner, “ Please excuse me,” she replied. “I must go and talk to dear old Jack.’’ : “You look gloomy, dear Jack, ssidshe, “You have been working too hard. Imust get Mr. Travers to let me cal) for you in the carriage aud take you out. Why not try and get into the Oxford foot-ball eleven, which is going to play Eton on their own ground? That will be a distraction.” “T will,” answered Jack, “ Tell me all the news, Emmy. Itis slong time cince we had achat; talk to me, if you will not think me selfish for keeping you sae from dancing.’’ : - “ T only care to dance with Pio dear,” she said. He prossed her hand tenderly.” “T have some news for you,” she said, smiling, “though it is a sad thing for Hilda.” ~ “What bas happened ?”” “The Duke of Woodstock is dead.’* “Dead |” repeated Jack, in astonishment. “Yes, indeed. He was with his yacht in the Medi- terranean, and was drowned while bathing. ~ His goer is handsomely provided for, and comes home ® fow days to stay at her father's. Fancy being a - . duchess with everso much moneys year, at quite a young age.” “ We shall not be sorry, for she never loved him.” “No; she liked you. Don’t go atter the widow, Jack,” said Emily, laughing. : “Is it likely? Oh! Emily, how can you say——?” “Hush!” interrupted Emily. ‘It was only non sense. Be a goodoy and try and brighten up a little. Iam not afraid of the widow, dear.” Towards the close of the evening Jack recovered his spirits, much to Emily's delight. The next day the party broke up, Jack and Harvey were driven to Oxford by their friend Mr. Holloway, ang ‘Emily returned with Mrs. Travers to that lady’s ouse, Jack found Sir Sydney installed in his rooms. Monday was mixing him some seltzer and brandy, while Buster was giving him a light for one of Harka- way's choice Havanas, : ‘Ah, dear boy,’”’ said Sir Sydney, with a languid air. “Glad tosee you. Making myself at home.” “So I perceive,” answered Jack. ; “Fact is, I’m getting used up,” continued Sir Syd- ney. “What with cards till daylight, morning chapel, lectures, and the rest of it, my constitution won't standit. I wish the dons would send me down for a year, so that might reeruit in the country.” “Draw it a little milder.” “Can't, my dear fellow. I was born to go fast, and it’s the pace that kills.” “Have a quiet evening with me. I’m reading ’?—— ‘For goodness sake don't talk about reading,” inter- rupted the baronet; “I hate grinding, and never was @ sap, : j ‘Lucky for you that you were born witha spoon in your mouth.” 43 “That’s just the opinion I have come to. When | prosp TI am one and twenty, my guardians can’t keep me out of my tin, and I shall oceupy myself in the pleasant amusement ef seeing how quickly I can spend it; let the poor beggars work, I don’t mean to.vrs Turning to Monday, he added: “My black friend, in you I recognize a man and a brother. Perform the Christian operation of giving me some B. in my 8.” 7 poured a fresh quantity of brandy in the soltzer. “Tam better, let the fact be written in gold,” said Sir Sydney. “I say, Harkaway—redoubtable athlete that thou art—strong man, tell me if you can make a 3 Because to-night you must come with me tothe aga. sa “And what are the Vags ?”” “ Allow me to enlighten your darkness,” replied Sir Bydney. “The Vags is an institution. Certain members of the university are disgusted with the dry nature of the debates at the Union, and they have formed an anti-union society or discussion club, where everybody can quarrel to “his heart's content.”” rt “Oh, it is a debating club,” said Jack. “Exactly. We call ouwselyes the Vagrants or Vags. Our president is your worthy friend, Mr, Mole, to whose genius we owe the origin of the society.” “‘TIs Mole one of you?” Did I pot say so?” : “So he is, but that does not prevent him feeling bored, like mamy outher married man, and wishing to spend his evenings abroad.’’ Fi % ‘ At this moment Mr. Mole entered the. room, rather unsteady in his gait, and looking asif he had given way to drinking. ie in te to see you, sir,’’ said Harkaway. “Take a ehair,”’ 7 a ; “I will take two,” replied Mr. Mole, sil one and putting his legs on another; “the | weat! fatigues me, Have you any of that alcoholicjstim called brandy ?” ize pe : “Certainly. Monday, attend to Mr. Mole. How's your wife sir?” * reat “‘Awful, Harkaway,” replied Mr. Mole; “as Tam a Christian gentleman, a scholar, and a man of education, I declare she is beyond endurance.” y « And the blessed infants, sir ?”’ “Name them not. If ever there were imps of dark- nos# sent into the world to plague an unfortunate in- dividual—but I will say no more,” replied Mr. Mole, with a groan. 3 “Don’t mind Dawson, sir. about 1t.”” “Why should I? Look at my expressive countenance, my grief-worn face, my locke already tinged with gray —do they not tellatale? Were it not {or the pursuits of science, I should seek the dismal doom of the de- mented suicide.” “What is this scientific affair you have in hand, sir? Lots of fellows have been wont gerd it.’ “Time will show,” answered Mr. Mole. “ Yes, time will show, and ‘Up in a balloon, boys, will be my motto. I long for the wings of a dove, so that I might fly away and be at rest.” *“ A nice sort of dove you'll be,” said Sir Sydney, “if you go away, and leave your children chargable to the parish.” “When I address my remarks to you, sir,” answered ‘Mr. Mole, “I should feel grateful for your opinion, but not before.’’ “Sorry I spoke,” said Sir Sydney, thréwing away the stump of his cigar. * “You come down to my little club,’”’ continued Mr. Mole, angrily, ‘‘the club that Ihave founded, and do all He’s nobody—tell us all in your power to create a disturbance. To-night, sir, I shall have you formally expelled.” “Who's going to do it?’’ asked the baronet. “That will be only a detail. When I have the au thority of the club for your expulsion, rest assured you will not be long a vagrant.’’ “Now don’t be unkind, Mole,”’ said SirSydney, “I never saw such a fellow tocut up rough. Here am 5 the life and soul of your meeting, and you wast to kick meout. Have you got any one who can doa cat-oall as wellas I can?’ “ That’s just it.” ‘ “ Or bark like a dog, with a yelp equal to mine?”? “ That’s what I complain of." “Or bellow like a bull, like unto this child?’’ con- tinued Sir Sydney. “lf you aren’t sociable, shall get up an opposition to you. The ‘ Vagrants’ meet at the Mitre; I will take a room at the ‘Randolph,’ and star? the ‘ Broken-hearted Club.” 1H “ What will that be like?’’ asked Jack. - “Rule I, shall run as follows ; Any one who la smiles, or looks in any way happy, shall be sued, alien crown,” as Sa Ne ian “Taghall be eligible for election in that club,” re marked Mr. Mole, ig a A glance at his sorrowful countenance made the young men laugh. i “You ought to be constituted a lifemember at onca, sir,’’ said Jack. S . “Rule II,” continued Sir Sydney, ‘Shall enact thas & man who cannot do the briny, id est, atear when called upon by the president, shall be kicked till he does. By Rule III, every member #hall belong toa burial club, and have a ready-made coffin under his | bed,” re “I say,” cried Jack, ‘you are enough to frighten anyone. Talk about something more lively.” Sir Sydney was full of his new idea, the ‘Broker hearted Club,’’? and went to his rooms todraw up & ectus and rules, declaring that he would start i and thatit should become one of the institutions the college. ‘ Mr. Mole dined with Jack, and told him.confidentially how miserable he was with Ambonia, whose temper. was worse than ever. f “Loek here,’’ said Mole, head. : Jack saw nothing but a bare, closely-crop’ like that of a man recovered from a severe tever. iv 238 a putting ihe: hand ‘aul “TI haye hadmy head shaved and wear a wig, be- %:. cause she used to ar? ll the hair out by the han 1s, Harkaway,’’ said Mr, Mole, putting on his wig. “Do you wonder I am spending part of my mod it. fortune in building a balloon to explore unknown,con- tinents?” ‘ 4 de Jack’s candid opinion was, that Mr. Mole was going mad as fast ashe could. But he did not say so. | f phd © 7. In the evening they went to the “Mitre,” and found” most of the members of the Vagrant bled inalargeroom. .f Mr, Mole took amt Lig “Sit near mé, away,” “said 8 y dey, pulling his gown. “ I’ni’going in.for a row, to-night.” Jack sat down,snd the secretary arose, — “If any member is in arrears with his subscrip- tion,’’ he said, ‘‘he/d better pay up sharp,” A few half-crowns weré tendered, and Mr. Mole got.om his legs. j Ms = “The question for debate this evening, he said, “is that,in the opinion of the house, tors should be accompanied by a man rum, so that notice of their approach might be given to the ~ unwary undergraduates and others. It is proposed by Mr. Card nd seconded by Mr, Harvey.” : Tom Carden rose, and said: “Gentlemen |” “Order!” cried Sir Sydney. the: vagrant anthem.” to eedies ; “Quite right,” replied Mr. Mole. ~—*“T omitted it. Brother vagrants, follow my lead, if you please.” . The anthem was then sung. ‘ It ran as follows : oy 1 “I’m @ vagrant ; thou’rt a vagrant ; vagrants too are and she. We are va ts; they are vagrants; here are they who would not be?” This was received with great applause, and Carden continued : — “The abuse of proctorial po of learning has’’—— , “A lot you’ve learnt,” said 4 voice, “Has, I repeat led fo the most disastrous resulta,” “When were you gated last?’’ cried a voice. : The president rose to order, ve Ea es gentieman, I must pray for silence,” he said. ‘Ss ey “Shut up, You're a duffer. wife !’" cried Sir Sydney. “YT will maintain order!” shouted Mr. Mole, whose yoice trembled with passion. ‘When I accepted this high office, I swore’*—— 7 “You'd swear black was white, only you wouldn't believe it, when you got home,” answered Jack, ina disguised tone, » njudid , This allusion to Ambonis caused Mr. Mole to grow more furious, , “Turn him out,” said the vagrants. ‘‘Who is the culprit?” asked the president. cannot go on.” sack saw Kentp in a corner, and imitating his roice, said : “Tt was I, Mr. President.” “We have not sung er in this ancient seat Go home te your “ This xTA “ Apologize,”’ replied es Mole, “and Wo wilt pags {t over. Mr. Kemp apologize.” | prgrts oe “What do you mean yO aeked Kemp, “TI neyer spoke.” “ Silence for the chair,’* continued Mr. Mole. “I ap peal to you as gentlemen to respect the president.” “You’re an old humbug. | “‘It’e my belief you're on Jack made Kemp say. vi yaa Geacended from hfs chair, and appreached ed surtage, ; mo a #6
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M . “Did you say I was disguised in liquor?” he asked. “J did not say anything,” replied Kemp; “but I will say now that you're all alot of lunatics, and I'm sorry I joined your rotten club. However, you won’t gee me again.” “Bonnet him,’ replied Sir Sydney. Mr. Mole, in an evil moment for himself, acted upon the advice, and smashed Kemp’s hat, which he had dust put on, heavily over his eyes. — He had been out skating aj] day in the country, and had not had time to put on his academical costume. Kemp hit out, and Mr. Moie rolled over, - “Row ! row!’ cried Sir Sydney, pushing against the members, who had crowded round the combatants. “ Back me up, Jack,” he added. Their united weights caused several men to fall against Mr. Mole, and they were soon struggling in a heap. fata got hia hat off, and madearush through the mob, kicking and hitting right and lett. Jack got a blow on the chest and did not like it, “What did you hit me for?” he asked. “You must take your chance with the rest,” replied Kemp. ‘There would bave been no row, if you and Dawson had not got it up.” “T never like to receive a favor without returning it,”’ said Jack; “‘so there is your punch back again and another to keep it company, by way of interest.” . Lhe first blow closed one eye. The second dislodged a tooth, which stuck in his Throat. : Kemp om black in the face—seemed in imminent flanger of choking. Sir Sydney Dawson was behind him, and Jack said: “ Hit him on the back; he’s swallowed # tooth.” “Won’t a kick do as well?’ replied Sir Sydney. “ Hoe’s one of the blackleg lot.” And he rroceeded to kick him vigorously from be- hind. : The process was not pleasant; but did good, and the tooth went down. Directly Kemp could breathe, he uttered a grow] like 8 wild beast. Springing on a chair, he turned the gas out. The scene now became one of indescribable con- fusion. Mr. Mole’s voice was heard, saying. “Gentlemen, brother vagrants, I am deprived of evéry breath in my body. Oh! get up! Oh! oh! somebody has put his confounded boot in the pit of ‘my—oh | stomach.” “Go it one? Go it t’other !’’ said Sir Sydney, delight- od at the riot he had created. Suddenly a violent blow descended on his nose. A hissing voice whispered ; ‘ “Take that, Mr. Harkaway, and remember that Kemp ig more your enemy than ever now.” “Deuce take you,” replied Sir Sydney, sneezing. “I’m not Harkaway.” z mete a - your pardon; I’ye made a mistake in tho Pie A Kemp. “Don't do it again, that’s all. My nose is all Dy. mM Pye lost 8 tooth.’ **You can buy 4 false one, but Ican’t get a mimic ‘Mose, “Fancy 8 man with «# false nasal organ. Blow it ree I mean, not the nose. I can’t stand it. Take Kemp moved away, and in the darkness Sir Sydney hit out at somebody else, “Who the dickens is kmocking at my door?” said the voice of Tom Carden. ‘Drop it, some of you ?” “Dash my wig, Carden! I didn’t mean-to hit you,”’ answered Sir Sydney. ,. ‘I don’t care twopence who you meant to hit. Take it back again.” 4 This time Carden struck out, but Sir Sydney ducked his head, and Harvey, who was close by, received the blow under bis ear. “Stash it,” he cried. ‘I’ve done nothing to anyone, Props under the e&r are not nice,” - “Whom have T hit?” asked Carden, oy" mess!” “ Hang your apology !’’ said Harvey, angrily, “if you were as big as a house, I'd have s go at you, Mind your ear this time.” He threw out his left, and withdrew with « cry of ia. * Missing Carden, he had struck the president’s desk, aad found that wood was harder than heads. Jack wheanwhile got on a table, and: feeling for the chandelier, struck a fuseo, and relighted the gas. Mr. Mole was leaning against the wall, gasping and rubbing his stomach. Sir Sydney had a pocket handkerchief applied to his bleeding nose. Harvey was holding his hand to his ear. _ , Carden occupied himself in shutting o a trying to find ont if he could gee with peated i “a cE. had vanished, and the open door certified to CHAPTER XVI. 4 NIGHT oF ADVENTURE. Arrzx the unseemly scene which had occ’ ba Yags,’’ the meeting could not continue, lear ‘ aaa rogrotted deeply the unfortunate turn affairs * "He dissolved the meeting, and those who remained in the room-solaced themselves with pipes and tee Harvey and Jack returned to St. ‘Aldate’s, laughin, ee: the comical comedy of errors which had “Hevea game of chess, Dick?” said Jack, HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND. “All right,” replied Harvey. They proceeded to play, and Jack happened to men- tion that the Duke of Woodstock was dead. “Really |!” cried Harvey. ‘Then Hilda is a widow?” “Of course. Check to your king. “T always liked that girl,” answered Harvey, getting out. of check, ‘‘and I envied that fool Woodstock when he married her.” “Did you?” Sheisa nice girl, and her awful rich. Why don’t you go in for Dick ?” “The duchess wouldn’tlook at a poor fellow like me,’’ said Harvey. “Check again. How careless you are. You must move your bishop tocover your king,and I take your queen,”’said Jack. “Do you really think I should have any chance in that quarter?” asked Harvey, after a pause. “Why not?” “T wouldn’t marry any girl i-did not like for her money ; but I have always thought I could love Hilda, and I don’t mind telling you, Jack, that I have loved her, and do love her now.’” “You don’t object to widows?” ‘Rather like them in this particular instance,” re- plied Harvey. “ Check,’ said Jack, “By Jove! that’s mate,” exclaimed Harvey, after a glance at the board, rf You are thinking of Hilda to-night, and can’t play.” “Solam. It would be a fine thing for me to marry Hilda, Ihave nothing but hard work before me, Jack; not that I am afraid of it, you know; but I’m only up here through the kindness of your father, and there arealotof usathome. It is as much as the dear old overnor is he widow, | governor can do to get along on his screw in the city." “ Have.a try for it, Dick,” said Jack. going up to the Corn Market to-night?” ‘What for?” ‘‘ With a letter of condolence from me to old Manas- ses. Youcan ask when the fair Hilda is expected home.” “All right ; give me the letter and I'll go,” replied Harvey. While Jack was writing a note to Moses Manasses. commiserating him on the loss of his’ son-in-law; and hoping that his daughter bore the affliction bravely, some Other characters in our story were taking sweet counsel together. These were Kemp and Hunston. Kemp, on leaving the ‘‘ Vags,” had gone to a chem- ist’s to wash his mouth out with alum, and have his eye painted, 80 as to avoid blackness if possible. ‘Then he wended his way to alow public-housein the city, and going into the tap-room, found Hunston waiting for him in a secluded corner. There were only three other occupants in the room; they were smoking long pipes, drinking,beer, and talk- “Do you mind ing politics in the loud, defiant, quarrelsome tone which always characterizes the political discussions of tap-room orators. ‘ ‘ Consequently the two friends Wad uite at their ol for there was no danger of ite being over- eard, r *You’ye kept me waiting long enough,” growled ae looking at the greasy clock on the mantle- piece. “I couldn’t help it,’’ replied Kemp. ‘1 went to a club called the‘ Vags’ for half an hour, because I want to keep.in with Harkaway and his set, if I can, bag “What's happened? You're hat’s smashed, you’re lip’s swollen, and you’ve got a mouse on your lefi peeper- Has there been a row?” “It's all that infernal Harkaway ; he got up a riot, and I got punched. Look here, one of my top teeth is 4 “My doar fellow, I apologize. ‘Bother the dark- : gone.” “Where ?”” | ‘*I swallowed it. Harkaway knocked it into my oy and while I was half-choking somebody kindly -kicked me till it went down. But don’t talk about it. The thing enly riles me, and I'll be even with him before I’ve done.” “ He’s haunted; let him alone,” said Hunston, with a laugh, * And he looks beastly bad over it,” replied Kemp. “ What a lark!” “Tt was Ph sltoglea the ghost didn’t drown him the other night at Holloway’.” “« What a fellow you are to chatter,” exclaimed Kemp, ae ae “Haven’t I told you a dozen times never to talk unmecessarily ?” ‘“ Well, let’s go to the business in hand. Are you up to the mark ?”’ “Bang up. Slap bang up,” answered Kemp, “ and no nonsense about it. I’min debt up to my neck every- where. I owe money'to tradesmen, who are dunnin: my life out of me, and I owe a lot to bill discounters and betting men, who threaten to have me up before re Vice Chancelior or make me s bankrupt in Lon- ont 5 “ You're like me,” replied Hunston. “I want coin, and mean to have'lt, whether you join me or not.” “Do you think we shall have much plunder?” “ Shall we have a lotof swag? Of course we shall. The old fool keeps a heap of money in the house,” “ Are you sure?” -* When I used to go to his house with you and Davis, do you think [kept my eyes shut? Not much. I was wide awake. Iknow where the safe is, and where he keeps his loose cash.” “Ts he s miser?” “ Not exactly ; but he’s just fond enough of money to like to havea lot about him, and not send it all to the bank. I will bet you,” said Hunston, “ that he has got « couple of thousands at his place.” “ That willbe one apiece,” said Kemp, roflectively. “Is that enough for you ?”” “ Just about enough, and that’s all.” “You can have some of mine. I don’t wamt so much as you,” replied Hunston, ‘And now'the thing is arranged, I suppose we stop here till they shut up, — then get in at the back of the old fellow’s prem- ges.” ; 1 “ Yes, what will you drink ?’”” “ Brandy That’s my liquor. I want a stimulant, and musn't mix my drinks,’’ replied Hunston.’’ When their wants were supplied, Komp'ssid reflect: ively : . 4 eat ““T wish we could fix the robbery upon Harkaway im - some manner. Couldn’t we put some jewelry in his rooms, stolen from the house, and send the police to search ?” ere La «We will think the matter over,” replied\Hunston, ; ere “ Have you got the masks?” : 7s G toold to get in with NaI aR, er *‘ Yes, black ones, and some have forgotten nothing.” ’ a eS In this sort of conversation they passed the remainder ofthe evening, waiting for midnight, at wijich lone hour, they reckoned the house they intended to rob would be quiet, and they could pursue their raseally. purpose without interruption. : ‘ Meanwhile Harvey had gone with Jack’s letter of condolence to Moses Manasses’ house, and was admitted by a neat-looking servant, who, recognizing Harvey ae a friend of the family, said with a smile: ‘*Im glad you came to-night, sir.” “ How is that, Rachel?” he asked. “ Because the duchess returned home this morning rather unexpectedly. We knew she was coming, but wedidn’t think to see her for a day or two.” : Harvey’s heart began to beat quickly. He was ushered into the drawing-room, where the Jew and his daughter were alone together. ‘« Welcome, Mr. Harvey,” said Manasses. “ My poor house has not lately been honored by your presence.” “J, too, may be permitted to join my father in an expression of pleasure at seeing you,who are indeed an old friend,” exclaimed Hilda. “You are very good,’’ replied Harvey. “Icame up to-night witha letter from Harkaway, ssying how sorry he was to hear of your recent loss, Indeed, we are all deeply grieved.” “ You have heard of it ?”” “Yes, from Emily. She had a note from you.”’ “Tt was very sudden,” said Hilda, “ Poor Wood- stock was bathing in the Mediterranean, and being seized with acramp, sank instantly. My married life was avery short one. Scarcely what is called the honeymoon over, when I found myself a widow.” ‘In the full possession ofall your matchless charms,” said Harvey. Hilda looked curiously at hint; and with a woman's quickness of perception, so read his expression as to let her eyes drop suddenly. i Up to the present time she had never suspected that ste excited anything more than 4 friendly interest in im w ¢ a le : But this was not the time to think or speak of ove. & nove Bin She wasin mourning for her husband, and during the remainder of the evening she r Hn gaxe coldly whenever their eyes’ met, 4 $imedhiing dl “Hilda is welling me all about hb ‘tures in foreign lands,” said the Jew. “IT m her since the illustrious alliance she contr if the details will not be unpleasant to yo vey, I shall'be glad if you will spend what is le eyen- ing with us.” “ Delighted, I’m sure,”” answered Harvey. “You speak of my grand marriage,” said Hilda. “Grandeur does not bring happiness,” " came title, however, introduced you into the best society.’’ “What of that? It istrue that I have dined with kings and queens, and that my dresses and jewelry ex- celled those of the most exalted station at court, but I was not happy. ‘Incredible ?'” hands together. that I have a child above the vanities of life?” “Tassure you, father,” replied Hilda, “that I am more at my ease in this dear old. familiar room, with you by my side, and Mr, Haryey with us, than I was when the duke and I were the guests of the King and Queen of Greece, and all Athens gave fetes in our hon- or,” “Yon make my heart rejoice, child. I thought your prosperity would make you ashamed of your parent- age, and despise your father.” “Never! I shall not use my title, To every one whether at home or traveling, I shall be plain Mrs. Woodstock.” «Then shall my old age glide grave, and no pangs shall rend my exclaimed the Jew, joining his leasantly to the eart when I am 8 | gathered to my fathers,” said the Jew. Heo raised his eyes to heaven, and his lips moved as with a pious offering. “Thanks be tothe Lorfl of Israel,” he continwed, “My heartis in thee, Hilds, Come hither, my child, and let mekiss thy brow. Ofa verity thou art cast in the mould of thy sainted mother.” Little did the aged Jow know, as he pressed his child to his heart, that the fates were busily engaged in cut- ting the thread of his life. Far was ho from thinking that the weird sisters wore gazing upon the glass of life, from which the sand had almost run out, 3 Midnight ree from more than oneclockin thecity. “So late,’’ said the Jew, “ and the bottle is empty.” “No more for me,” replied Harvey, “many thanke, all the same,” . “Nay,” continued the old man, ‘‘ l willhave my owm way for once. We donot have « ehild restored to us every day. Im my cellar there is some Lachryme * - “Father Abraham; is it possible .
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HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND, Christi that the dean of St. Aldate’s would give a ten- peund note for. To-night shall see us taste it.” ® Let me go, father,” said Hilda. “No ; stay you here, child. My legs are not so old, nor my hands so palsied that I cannot go an errand like this as the best of you.” So saying, the Jew took up a hand lamp jingled his keys, and departed for the famous Lachryme Christi, which was in the cellar on the kitchen floor, He had not gone long when Hilda held up her fin- er. : ee Hush!” she exclaimed. +“ What is it?” asked Harvey. “« Did you hear a noise?” , ‘Haryey listened attentively, and was soom satisfied that Hilda was right. CHAPTER XVII. ROBBERY AND MUMDER. “THER® are men in the house,” continued Hilda nervously. “TJ fancy I can hear footsteps,” anewered Harvey. “Yes, yes ; they have entered the house from the back. They are descending from my father’s bed-room, where he always keeps large snms.”’ “Do you think they are robbers ?” “T cannot tell ; but I have often feared my father’s ) b fatal fondness for keeping money in the house would tempt thieves.’’ “T wish I had a pistol,” said Harvey. * Never mind that; take the poker; run after my father. Save him: oh, save him, Mr. Harvey. They will meet him on the stairs. Bun, run!’ Harvey did not hesitate any longer, Snatching up the poker, he ran into the passage. Already he had heard the sound of ascuffle on the stairs. This was followed by the smashing of glass, It was the fall of the bottle of famous old wine which was destined never to be opened aud drank. By the light of the hall-lamp he saw the Jew strug- gling with the men, who wore black masks. “ Help, help !” cried the Jew, in accents which grew weaker and weaker. “Oh, holy Moses! that I should dielike this.” | In an instant Harvey was on top of the stairs, and had dealt one of the robbers a severe blow on the arm. The fellow turned, and drawing a Jong, dangerous- looking knife, plunged it into Harvey’s body. With a eed the unhappy man sank upon the floor. He was din his own blood. Almost at the same moment the Jew fell mortally wounded, “Hilda—my child, my child! The God of Isa-ac b-bless ’’——he murmured. ; His voice failled him, He waa dead. saga “This way, Se cried one of the robbers. +‘ They =e bak aettl We must stepit. Thisis a hanging usiness.”” “Come on. You are alwaysép ready with that infer- nal knife of yours,” replied the other, “Why not? Itisa habit I learnt abroad,” replied the first speaker, replacing his Malay knife in his belt. : making their way to the window, they ugh it, reached the ground and escaped. had they gone when Hilda came upon the ecene, an sank down first of all beside Harvey. He still breathed. ‘She mext examined her father. __ His heart had ceased to beat, and his body was gashed with several wounds. It was with difficulty the wretched girl preserved her semses, as, with tottering steps, she rushed into the street, flinging open wide the front door. A peetionman. was | “Help |”, she ci mitted here.” = “Murder, miss !’’ repeated the constable. “Oh, yes. Go inside while I run for the doctor.” The policeman did as he was requested, and Hilda went to a doctor who lived hard by, who was roused . “There has been murder com- by her furious knocking, “Come at once to my father’s house,” she said. ‘I foar he is dead and thata young Oxford gentleman is dying. Oh, for Heaven’s sake, make haste.’ The doctor did not wait to ask any questions. He knew that in desperate cases a Yost minute may cost a human life. . Rollonag He fair guide, whose dishevelled hair Bet: wildly in the wind, he entered the Jew's ouse, The.policeman, caring more about the thieves than the victims, was searching the back-yard. A very pret {nepeption, showed the doctor that the Jew was really read, kg Ne | a tablecloth over his distorted features, he direc his attention to Harvey, who breathed heavily. . The Lnite had entered his side,and the wound was avery bad one. To stop the effusion of blood was the first thing. This ‘was done 4s well as circumstances would rmit. He Have you a bed-room handy?” asked the doctor of Hilds, who was kneoling in silent prayer by the body of her only parent. “ Yes," she said, rising. -°“It is selfish of me to neglect the living for the dead, but if you only knew how he loved me—how kind he was to me— Tae Her utterance was checked by a burst of tears. “This way; sir,” she continued, suppressing her grief, by a heroic effort, “I will conduct you, Poor epnp-aentiamen: 5 it was through me he came to She led the way up stairs and showedthe doctor a room. - ‘He carried Harvey in his arms asif he had been & child, and laid him on the bed. Harvey was perfectly insensible, and did not evince any sign of life beyond a feeble effort occasionally to breathe more freely,followed by a convulsive movement of the limbs. The doctor and Hilda sat up with him all night. In vain the police pursued the tracks of the robbers; nothing could be seen of them. On the following morning Harvey recovered con- sciousness and was able to speak, though very faint from loss of blood. 7 The coroner held an inguest on the body of Moses Manasses, the Jew money-lender of the Corn Market. ‘ ee evidence Harvey was able to give amounted ‘0 this: He had gone to the assistance of the Jew, who was abtacked by two men. One of.them had but one arm. Of that fact he was satisfied. It wasthe maimed man that stabbed him, but as soon as the knife entered his flesh, he lost conscious- ness. : Property to alarge amount had been carried off. Gold, notes and jewelry, amounting in yalue to near- ly four thousand pounds, had been taken. Therefore the object of the attack was decidedly rob- ery. A large reward was offered for the apprehension of the thieves and murderers, for such they were. No one-armed man could be found in Oxford, The doctor declared it would be unsafe to remove Harvey for at least acouple of months. Hilda, agreed to nurse him, and take care of him in her house until he got perfectly well. A deep feeling of pity not unmixed with affection, grew upin her heart for the young man who had so generously risked his own life to save her father. Tke funeral of Manasses was strictly private. Only Hilda, Jack, and a Jew, an intimate friend of the deceased, followed him to his last resting place. Harvey, when well enough, was not without numer- ous visits from from his friends, among whom Jack was the most attentive. Hilda’s grief for the loss of her father was very acute, but as time wore on, she recovered her serenity, A will was found which made her the heiress of all the Jew’s vast wealth, with the exception ofa legacy. This was a bequest to Mr. John Harkaway, of St. Al- date’s College, Oxtord. It consisted of the handsome sum of ten thousand pounds sterling. Jack was delighted at this lucky windfall, but he re- solyed to make the best use of it. Invested at three per cent., it would bring him an income of three hun- dred a year. i This was what his father allowed him. So writing home, he told his father of his good for- tune, and begged him to discontinue making any allowance in future, as he would get along upon the Jew’s legacy. His father was delighted, pleased beyond measure, at — t showed that he had no extravagant, wasteful astes. Jack alluded in his letter to his father’s kindness in paying for Harvey at his request, and hoped that his relinquishment of his allowance might be looked upon as a set off for Harvey’s allowance. The Christmas vacation now approached. On the fourteenth of January the Oxford term began, and Jack prepared to read hard at home, taking his books with him. : “Is everything ready, Monday?” asked Jack, “Yes, sare,’’ replied the black. “ Books all packed up ?’? “Yes, sare. All the wine drank, but me put half a botdle of brandy away, cos that thief scout not get it.” Mr. Buster happened to be waiting respectfully in the 6, expecting to receive a nat tip from his master on his departnre. His injured feelings on hearing thisremark would not allow him to be silent. Ademering welt an air which more betokened grief than anger, he said: “ Sir, may 1 speak a word, Mr, Harkaway? Which you have always been.a good master to me, likewise kind andconsiderate.”’ “Tf you want five shillings, here it is,” replied Jack, with a laugh. ‘‘Saye this butter for somebody else who likes it more than I do.” , “ Leastways, sir, it’s hard to be accused of halfa bottle of brandy, which I wouldn’t have touched a drop, sir; no, notif it had stood in the cupboard all the long vacation.” “Monday thought it better not to give you thechance, you see.” Buster pocketed the five shillings, which, haying been duly paid his wages, was half-a-crown more than he had expeeted,and as the money sank into the depths pany breeches pocket with a pleasant jingle, he re- plied: “Mr. Monday, six, has got a spite agin me,” “ He only looks after my interest.” : “What's this, Monday, are you in love?” Monday looked surprised, and made no reply. But he darted an ey ge at Buster, who, enjoy: ing hig triumph, proce : “ This ‘ere gal, as I’m‘a-telling you off, is ina "baccon. ist shop, and serves behind the counter. Well, sir, he’s been a-giving of her most hexpensive of presents, which I’m sure he can’t hafford hout hof his salary, and he’s been cramming her up with a pack hof lies, that he’s a king.” be ee Monday,” said Jack, laughing; “I am sur- prised.’”* “That hain’t all, sir; he said he’ll take her to some highland in the Pacific Hocean, and make her a queen.” Jack laughed more and more. “ And if he didn’t ought to be kicked for it, Ihope I mayn’t have no plum puddin’ on Christmas day. If] was that there gal’s father, I’d buy a stick and ieather him within a hinch of his life, I would.” ‘*You dirty thief scout!” answered Monday, fur- iously. ‘What for you watch me? What for you mean telling things *bout me?” He ran to the wall and took down a spesr. The scout got behind Jack, saying: “Oh, Mr. Harkaway, protect me, sir. I'll have him up afore the mayor if he dares to prod me with that horrid thing. Ugh! You awful, wild, savage, beast, you.” “ Quiet, Monday,” exclaimed Jack. The black stopped half way in obedience #0 his mas- ter’s command. “ As far as I can see, your complaint is that Monday has a sweetheart in a tobacconist ‘shop. If-she likes him, why shouldn’t she?” replied Jack, “ He’s a nigger, sir,” said Buster, “What does that matter?’ A better heart never beat under a white skin, than under Monday's black one. He’s aking in Limbi and he could make the girl a queen—so much for that. Now you insinuate that He gives her expensive presents,and must rob me.to 0 60.” “« Yes, sir.’” = - “That's what you mean ?” **Cert’n’y, sir, precisely,” said Buster. “Me never steal you of sixpence, sare,”” Monday ex- claimed. ‘Let me give him some spear, sare; it will do um good.” “ Be quiet, Lsay. Now I will tell you one thing, Mr. Buster. Such is my confidence in Monday, that I pay him no salary at all; he keeps the key of my cash box, and I tell him to go and help himself whenever he wants any money. If he took fifty pounds at any time, he'd be as welcome to it as my own mother.” The scout stared in amazement. “Tam indebted to Monday for many kindnesses,” this ae of Jack’s high spirit and good-heartedness, | da; answered Jack. ‘‘Heis not my servant, he is my friend. lknow he would not abuse my confidence, andI do not suppose the presents he has given his lady love are very valuable.” “Me give only nine, ten pound for um all, sare. Me got bill to show, sare,” answered Monday. “ Thereis an end of it,” said Jack, “Put up that speam.”” : “Just give um one little poke, mare,” pleaded Mon- y. “T’ll have the law of him ifhe does, s’elp me Bob, I will,” answered Buster, in an agony of fright. “Do as I ask you,’’ answered Jack; “and go and call afly. I will walk to the station in about an hour; you can go on first with the luggage.”’ , “Yes, sare,” replied Monday, replacing the spear on the wall. ; to tell his friend Clinker what Buster slunk away had happened. : Jack wended his way to Sir Sydney's rooma to say good-bye; he haying previously called upon Harvey and passed some time with the poor fellow, who was progressing favorably but slowly. : ida was wond y_attentive to him. ‘ She read to him, talked and played to him, and m: his enforced confinement so agreeable, that Harvey wished his period of illness miglt be longer, for amore kind and considerate nurse never existed than the Jew’s daughter. “ CHAPTER XVIII. A STRANGE TRAVELING COMPANION. 8mm SypNex Dawson’s rooms were in a state of conte sion fully equal to that of Jack’s, J ea AO ct ae ty geet huthan oa Le 8 ing touch to a portman: ig Mere She Anish “'Bliged to take & lot of -books home,” said Sir Syd- ney, “just to beige my guardian that I’m a man. Gave my scout half a sovereign to cut alot ot classics yesterday, so that it should look as though I dipped into them. Any good news of Harvey + TA “Yes, he is decidedly better.”” “Horrible thing about the poor Jew. One Israelite the less, though it don’t make much difference. If Woodstock had lived, he might have carried on the pape under the name of asses and Co., he being @ Co,” “Fancy a duke lending money at sixty per cent.!”’ “ Which. begging your pardon, sir, is not slways the | said Jack case. Me and my friend Mr. Clinker—who is well known in the wniversity,as an honester scout nevor stepped across a om or brought up hot waterof a ar egy Sa aaiee of a0 Monday, sir.’ © at on earth may at opera’ consist ’ asked Jack, much amused, “i , a me “ He's got a gal, sir.” hg, “A gal, sir. He's get a young gal on, tho what she can find to seein the bieck sliesteaticn: a ot Jar licker fee both me and Mr, Clinker.” y ; to-day !"’ asked Jack. of gene the way if
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HARKAWAY AND Ptth’ BLACK BAND, —=s “So does mine, and I think Hunston must have been in it. Harvey swears that a one-armed man stabbed him. Thoy got well off with the swag; rather a rich booty, too.” © “ Have you any suspicion of a nature likely to afford the faintest clue as to who the murderers may be?’ asked Sir Sydney, looking fixedly at Jack. “T’ye remarked one thing,’ said Jack, ‘Kemp has been very flush lately. Since the robbery he has paid ail his ticks, and started a tandem. He says he’s come | into a legacy.” “Kemp and Hunston were friends,’ sneered Sir Syd- nay. : “ Next term I mean to watch Kemp narrowly,” replied Jack, “I have told the police here all I know about him, andif he is seen with Hunston at any time, they will both be arrested.” “©On spec ?”” “Yes, on spec; and not a bad speculation either,” “By Jove |” said Sir Sydney, “ what a lot of villainy there is running about loose in this wicked world ot ours; it’s about time it was destroyed again.” “ What would become of you ?” “Oh, I'd take my chance with-the rest,” replied the baronet. “J like you when you become virtuous. Some of | these days we shall find you a respectable country gen- tleman, in the commission of the peace, committing little boys for throwing stones, and men for bagging a hare or a rabbit.” ‘ “Yes, I suppose that will be my line of life. Owning lund has its duties, and the repression of evil doing is one of them,” “Will you come and see me if you are down my - fo vac? I'm a Hertfordshire man, you know,” ack, . “Ah! country celebrated for its ag il i believe,” replied Sir Sydney. “Should be ‘delighted, my dea? boy, if had time. No man I should like to give @ hail so much as thy sweet self, but I’m booked too deeply already. Leave it till the Long.”’ “Then we shali all be in Rome or Naples, or goodnesg knows where.”’ “Well, there’s otie comfort, we have enough of each other'up here.” “ Because we can’t very well help ourselves. That’s not like knowing a man at home, is it ?’” ** Not exactly; well leave it open. " If Irun up to the little village and don’t get concerned in town, I'll run down into your forsaken part of the world and stir you up a bit.” “What may that mean ?"’ “Oh, ride your best show horse and break his knees, run away with your prettiest sister, or ’—— “T haven't any, worse luck.” —~ “Then I'll set the house on fire and roast your para- lytic grandmother to death.” » “Out again,” said Jack;- “ grandmothers are luxuries I can’t boast of.”’ “You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Imagine the state of aman’s mind who hasn’t got a grandmother. If that were my case, I should immediately commit suicide.” : “why 2" 2 “Because a grandmother is something to look for- ward’ to; she has generally got tin, and if you are awfully wild and wicked, she is sure to take compassion on you and leave you the lot.” “You will be certain to come in for your grand maternal relation's tin,” said Jack, laughing.: Tt’s a moral ; but, excuse me, dear Iboy, why can’t you say grandmother? Long words are bad, and worry me, It took mea quarter of a minute to understand what you meant by grand materual relation.” “ 1 [a oars ne “Don’t apologize ; only be careful not to let it occur again. Iam io & walking dictionary, and it is unkind in a friend to give one more trouble than he can help.” “ You'll come if you can, won’t you ?” “Tf the family complaint of tho Dawsons does not seize upon me in the meantime.” “What ig that?” infuired Jack. “ We are supposed to be a very careless race, and are subject to what the doctors call a turning to bone, or, medically, ossification of the heart.’ * “Bosh!” said Jack. “ Call it assification of the head; excuse the long word, you know.” “Will you g0 out of the door or the window? Take your choicé,”’ said Sir Sydney, laughing. “The door for choice.” ; “Tl go with you. It’s time to bo getting station- wards, Olinker! Where’s that beast, Clinker? Qh, ye dons’and little fishes why were scouts inyented to plague the minds of unhappy undergraduates ?” “ Here, sir; coma ea lied Clinker, “ I was only a-tal to Mx. Buster, sir, about that black thief of Mr. Harkaway’s, sir, which he’s a disgrace and "bomina- tion to the ‘varsity, sir.”” As he entered the room, he caught sight of Jack, “Didn't know you was here, sir,’ he exclaimed. “Not as Mr, Buster’s opinion is mine, sir. I-was only a-ropeatin” his words, sir. I’ve always found Mr, Mon- day a very civil-spoken sort of gentleman, though black, which, begging your pardon again, sir, his more ‘is mis- fortin®than ’is fault, Mr. Harkaway sir.’’ “Tf you say anything about my black prince I shall tell him; andl won't answer for his savage nature.” “That's where it is, sir,” said Qlinker. “‘Heruns and eatches up & spear. Hoe ought to be muzzled, he had, - — ys hand-cuffed, or have a log of wood chained “You had better doit.” cir tyne, J “Mr, Buster and me, sir, Was a-talking ahout it,’”’ re- plied Clinker ; “ that is, begging your pardin again, sir, and we shall hayo a general meeting of scouts in the vacation, when hall personal differences ee be ‘dis- LS yen perhaps we shall decide to put alog on him mett URE IOS fone DENS Renee 2 5 “You infernal shattering humbug! [shall have to way said | puta stopper on your tongue,” exclaimed Sir Sydney | Dawson. | “Yes, sir; cert’n’y, sir.” | “Go and take this Inggage down, and get my fly.” “ Cert’n’y, sir,” replied Clinker. i 3 “oe you walk to the station with moe?’ asked ack, “No, thanks ; too done up for walking. Give you 4 | lift on my wagon.” Harkaway accepted the offer. In the quad they met the two scouts. “Merry Christmas, gentlemen,”’ said Buster. “ Andit's wishing of you both a happy New Year, | sirs,”’ added Clinker. ; “ ‘Samo to you, and many of them,” replied Jack and Sir Sydney, as they got into the fly and were driven to the station. When the fly drove off Clinker remarked : “ J don’t think my master will make old bones.” ' “Don’t know much about mine either,” replied and he’s been very guess at times lately.’’ They both shook theit heads gravely and went to See their other masters’ property despatched to the station. Sir Sydney traveled with Jack to the junction, and there got out shaking his "hand and“ putting on a fresh weed,” as he termed it. Jack was soon deep in an illustrated paper as the train moved on. He had not heard the door open oranyone getin, but, when he looked up he gave a start. In the opposite corner, on the otherside of the car- riage, sat a man. ‘ack saw it was the same being he had encountered on the ice, and he resolved he would be humbugged no longer by any pretended ghost. CHAPTER XIX. A FIGHT WITH A GHOST, THe train entered a tunnel. Jack was not in the mood then to see or fancy any- thing magical. whole frame was full of vigor. Ho sprang to his tect. , At this moment the flickering lamp at the top of the carriage went out—a dense darkness prevailed. Jack had only one idea in his head, just then, and that was to get hold of the ghost. Groping his way in the dark to the re corner, he all at once came in contact with a solid arm. It was of flesh and blood apparently, for a hand glided up and seized his throat, closing convulsively on the windpipe. Jack’s eyes began to start from his head. {Twining his strong arms round the thing that had got hold of him, he pressed them together with all his mighty force. ‘e heard, as he thought, the ribs of the ghost crack. There was a sharp, short cry of agony. The awful choking grasp round his throat relaxed, and he could breathe again; that squeeze, which was like a giant’s hug, had done it. Jack was himself again. Ho felt that it was no ghost he was fighting with, or, if a ghost, a vory extraordinary one, for he was grap- pling with flesh and blood. His spirit was up, and he threw himself with all his force on his antagonist. They pressed against the door. Ithad been imperfectly shut, and burst open, A heavy body rolled from his arms, and fell on the line. The next moment the speed of the engine slackenod. and the train glided into the light and steamed into the station. For a time he was dazzled by the light, but stepping on the platform he called the guard, who came up. ‘What is it, sir?” asked the guard. “T have been attacked im the tunnel,’ said Jack, ‘and the man has tumbled out on the line. My name is Harkaway ; take my baggage on to Paddington, and put it in the cloak-room’; leave the ticket with the su- perintendent. There is half a crown for you. Where is the stationmaster ?”” “Mr, Elvey,” said the gnard: The station master approached “Gentleman wants to speak to you, sir. @All right behind,” said the guard; who blew hiv whistle, and the train went on, leaving Jack standing on the plat- ar Get lamps and come into the tunnel,” said Jack. ‘What has happened, sir ?’’ asked the station mas- ter. “JT have been attacked ae other, and in self-defense I fou out of the train,” et a ack, who was still in a eat state of excitement. Or stop here, sir,” said Elvey, “and I will take two men with mé; the down express is nearly due. As he spoke, the express thundered through the station. “Now we are all right ; there is nothing to interfere with us but an up-goods, and that’s always late. Hore, Bates and Wright!” Two porters answered his summons. “Get lanterns and a stretcher quick |’ Ina few minutes the stationmaster and the porters walked down the line to the tunnel, with lanterns and a stretcher. i Jack paced the platform uneasily. Ten minutes elapsed, and thena procession was seen emerging from the mouth of the tunnel. : The eye end bees = tr mesenpeeien ~ = — hand, and the porters c a Fy 0 It waa that of a young man, and disectly it came tunnel, by some one or At him } he has tumbled Buster, “ He’s very ‘centric ; makes friends of blacks, The muscles of his arms seemed to swell, and his |— net enough for Jack to see it, he recogmized Frank avis. : id ae mind was in a whirl; he could not understand ail. “Better take him to the railway inn, sir, and send for a doctor,’’ said Elvey. . nd “Do as you like. I will wait here,” replied Jack. Half an hour elapsed. The stationmaster returned. “ Well?” said Jack shortly. “The doctor says the gentleman can’t liye long, sir, ue he keeps on asking for a Mr. Harkaway,” replied vey, = “That's my name,” “Will you come to his bedside?” ; “Yes; lead the way,” said Jack. ’ It was but a short walk tothe railway hotel, which ra opposite the station, and Jack waa conducted up stairs. On the bed was stretched the ghastly and dying form of Frank Davis. “ Harkaway,’’ he said, in a faint yoice, “I have sent for you to beg your forgiveness. Iam dying now.” “Tam sorry for it; I thought you were dead long ago,” said Jack. : “You were deceived. The injury I received when I fell into the quad at St. Aldate’s was not fatal. Acting upon Kemp‘s adyice, I lg to be dead, and ap- peared to you at different times, to lead you to believe that you were haunted.” “For what reason ?’” “To make you commit suicide, to kill you, to get rid of you, for I knew that as long as you lived, I had no chance With Emily, whom I loved better than m) life or honor, ever since J first saw her.” . “Tt was you I have seen in my chambers ?”* “Yes. I had a false key.’* “And on the ice ?”” persisted Jack. “T hoped to drown you. God forgive me! Iam sorry for it all now.” . : “ What did you mean to do in the ean f carriage?” “Throw you out of the dooras you did me. T left the door open'on purpose,” answered Dayis. Jack shrank back at this revelation, which com- pletely astounded him, “@ive me your hand, Harkaway,” continued Davis, whose voice grew weaker and yet more feeble. Jack did #0. “ God forgive me! I fool that Tam going. i He was indeed sinking fast. . The injuries he had received im the tunnel were of a mortal character. “J forgive you, Davis, with all my heart,” replied Jack, “though you have led me a life for no fault of myown. Anything Idid te you was proyoked by your conduct to me.” : “Tknow it. My life might haye been a better ene, but I deserve my fate,” answered the ite Fred , Arush of blood to his mouth stopped further utter- ance for a time. At length he held out his hand to Jack. “Take it,” ho said, Jack did so. 7 “ Beware of Hunston and Kemp; they are mur—m— ie ldap He could say no more. The blood rushing into his lungs again suffocated him, and he passed away. 4 : igi Jack was very sorry for his frightful end, he couki not help feeling some satisfaction at knowing that his enemy was really dead this vee . Davis's last utterance, no doubt, related to tho at- tack on tho Jew. a He wished to say that Hunston and Kemp were mur erers. Tt was with a ee Dutstill with a lightened heart, that Jack pursued his journey. b He had to attend the inquest, at which a yerdict of accidental death was returned. A No one blamed him. ‘ He had only acted in self-defense. During the holidays he read hard, and soon became himself again. His health, which had suffered while ho thought himself haunted, resumed its former con- dition, and he passed his spare timé in playing with 4 foot ball club in the the village. : Emily had asked him to get into the Oxford eleyen, which was going to play Eatonin Lent ye and he felt confident that he could make himsolf fit with » lit- tle practice. : Say a prayor for me. OHAPTER XX. PAT O’RAFFENTY. WueEn the vacation was over, Jack returned to college, and once more took up his residence at St. Aldate’s. Everything went on as usual, _ ‘Tom Carden wanted him to row again in the eight at Putney, but this Jack, refused, as he wanted to read hard, and come out well in the schools. Rowing was all yery, well, He liked»the, honor and the exercise, but two years of it running would take up too much time. So the captain grumblingly went away to look for a an. “ ‘ “The foot ball match with Eaton came off. Tt:-was won by Oxford, and Jack distinguished htm. self by winning one goal, and” breaking « login’ a charge. | The poor fellow who had come in contact with our prawny giant was carried off the field. > Jack was very sorry, but it-was not hés fault that he owas so strong,’ : 7 ‘ Durina this Lent term, Jack made a mew acquaint ance. ‘x pet
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HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND. than his The weather was very mild, more like sprin, Ppntes aad he frequently sculled om the river at. One day he was quietly going down towards Iffley, thinking over his future prospects. Davis was dead. i Of Hunston, he saw nothing; and for the time, Kemp seemed disposed to let him alone. Bnt Kemp was in reality nothing better than a creep- Ing snake. Atany moment he might wake up and bite. Suddenly something caught Jack round the neck, fluny him forward in the boat, and his sculls were dasivd from dais hands. At first he thought he had run up against a barge. But when he had picked himself up; he could see nothing whatever. A burst of ringing laughter from the bank made him turn his eyes in that direction. He saw & young man standing by a stump ofa pol- lard willow, and almost level with his waist was a stout vord. e This was stretched across the river, and fastened on each side to the branch of a tree. It was the cord which had caught him by the neck and thrown him. “Tsay you, sir!’’ he exclaimed, angrily; “ what do you mean by setting traps like this for people 2?” The young man who wore the college cap and gown, laughed harder than ever. ° “J shall have to knock some of the grinning out of you!’ cried Jack. “That would puzzle you. st any tme, be jabers; but just now more than ever,” was the reply. ”“ Wh: : 4 y Beosuse you have lost your sculls, and are drifting down the lasher.” This was true. For the first time, Jack realized his position. He hadlost both sculls, and was perfectly helpless, while, ahead of him, he could hear the sullen roar of the weir. “Sit still like a good boy, and don’t growlany more,” said the stranger and on the word of a gentleman, I will get you out of the mess.” «How?! ; “My boat is moored lower down. I'll getin, pick up your sculls, and apologize ; will that do for you?” “Yes,” replied Jack, “ though I don’t half like it.” “Of course you don’t, "said the stranger with another laugh ; ‘‘ Do you fale sore, eh 2?” “ Rather, you’ve made my jaws ache. I have halfa mind to swim over to you just now and punch your head.” “My dear fellow you wouldn’t be init with me. I am the best light-weight out; you couldn’t lick me, if you tried for a week. The measured sounds of oars was heard coming down the river. “ Hallo P’ said the practical joker. more putty-heads coming.” “It’s one of the college eights,’’ said Jack ; ‘‘ cut. the cord.” — # F “Not 1.” : “You will swamp. the lot.’ , «4 All the better,” replied the stranger, “ He ran quickly down the bank, eo od into his noah dianpiedl up Jack’s sculls, gaye them to him, and did it all in less than a minute. “Now!” he cried, “Pull quickly on, and lay under the bank with me; we must seethe fun, and then get into the lock before they can twig us. Eight to two and the coxswain are odds which I don’t mane to face.” . Though he did net like it, Jack did as he was told, for the stranger had a way with him of making those he came in contact with obey him. They hid under the bank, On came the eight with a steady swinging stroke of thirty-six a minute. . «It’s the St Aldate’s boat,” said the stranger. “ So itis, by all that’s funny, .There’s Tom Carden.” Bofore Jack had time to say any more, the sharp eye of the coxswain had spied the rope. ; “ Basy alll” he cried loudly...“ Back water all!” It was too late. The rope caught, the bow, two, three and four, pitch- ing them into the river, while five, six and seven were sent sprawling over their stretchers. ‘Tom Carden was spared, a3 the impetus of the boat was stopped. The captain looked around him in surprise. «" What the deuce is up?” : “ Why,” said the the coxswain, ‘‘ some son of & cook has tied a rope across the river.” Taking out his knife, he cut.it.in half. Those who remained in the eight pulled themselves. te shore, where thoso who had been pitched in the water were shivering after their swim, and rubbing the backs of their necks as if they did not like it. “J wish I could catch the brute,” said Tom Carden. “It's @ rascally thing te do. Keep it dark, you fellows, or we shall be nicely chaffed.”’ Touching Jack's arm, the stranger whispered ; “ Now’s your time. Come on, and we shall get locks b-fore theeight come up. Here getinto my boat, we van double scull. Tie yours up, 4nd we can change again when we come back.” Jack hastily fastened the painter, and to his surprise found himsef. in a short time a @ strange man whom he had not known from A five minutes before. The stranger seemed to divine his thoughts. ‘He said. “Here are some » ‘ei ondering what there is sbout me to make Bog beet told It’s a way I’ve got. I call. it Trish charm.” me You're not im the university, of course answered | Abingdon, Sanford,.and Iffiey Railway.’ ‘at “Yes, ma Maudlin man, My name is Pat O’Raf- ferty, and as every one have a rayson for living, my raison d'etre is to play practical jokes. I live for fun and now who are you ?”" “ Jack Harkaway,’’ was the reply. “ What the great oar, the athlete, the pride of the "Varsity, who is making all the muscular Christians wape because he won't row again this year; the con- verted mass of muscles, who is going to court the muses, and turn rayding man? I haye heard of you my friend.’ é y, ‘One must read a little, answered Jack modestly. “Tam proud to make your acquaintance, continued O’Rafferty. ‘Here we are atlocks. Wake the man up, will you? “Locks 2?” eried Jack, ‘‘lo-lo-locks-s-s."’ A few minutes satisfied to carry them through, and they settled down for a steady row, which continued for about a mile. Suddenly O'Rafferty stopped.” “T've had enough of this,” he exclaimed; “suppose we have a quiet chat.’’ “TI shouldn’t mind a beer andsome bread and cheese,” answered Jack. O’Rafferty looked round and saw on his left a very neat-lodking lawn sloping down to the river. It belonged to a gentleman’s house, the approach to which was over the grass amidst flower beds and shrubs, wbile on each side was a wall fringed with trees. ; The windows of a room opening on to the lawn were open. 5 Inside could be seen a snug little party enjoying a substantial lunck. The popping of champagne corks mingled with the innecent laughter of yeung girls. “ Just in time, by hookey !” exclaimed O’Rafferty. “For what?’ asked Jack. : “Some of that lunch.. Scull into the lawn.” “‘Do you know the people ?”’ “Not the least bit in the world.” “And you are going to lunch there ?”” continued Jack. “ That's a moral certainty,and you with me,’’ replied O’Rafferty. ‘Are you mad?” asked: Jack. “Not much. I'll give you a specimen of my sanity directly. You must do everything Itell you. Touch your cap when you are spoken to, and trate me as the master. Look here; take off your college cap and leave your gown under the sate. Put on this cricket- ing affair.” "Rafferty produced from the pocket of his shooting coat two brown caps. “‘T always come provided for contingencies,” he said. Lflatter myself we look like business men, eh ?” “We might pass muster in a crowd,” replied Jack. He did not know in the least what they were going to do, but he sculled into the lawn. O'Rafferty fastened the boat, and seizing the boat hook he jumped ashore. Jack tollowed him. 3 Walking across the lawn, O’ Rafferty began to measure distances with the boat hook as if calculating how far it was from one side of the lawn. . Asplendid green-house had been erected on the lett, and he took very particular notice of this. 4 All his actions were easily observable from the win- ows. Presently a tall footman in blue and silver livery, his hair powdered, left the house and stalked down towards, the intruder. “Now for it,” muttered Jack. ‘I expect we shall get moker into the river, and we deserve it for our cool cheek, OHAPTER XXI. COOL CHEEK, TxE footman approached O’Rafferty, and said, in an insolent tone: ‘ , “Are you aware you are t assing, my man?”.. “Partectly,” answered the Irishman, adding, ‘‘ Mr. Martin.” : “Sir,” said Jack, touching his cap. “You will make a note, if you please. to this effect. The most direct road is through the green-house on the left. The distance is six poles, one perch.” “Yes, sir,’’ answered Jack, making an entry with a pexcil in his pocket-book, The footman spoke again. “What am I to tell the major ?”’ he asked. “‘Major,’’ repeated O’Rafferty, as if he was thinking deeply. “Major Chutney, late of the Indian army, is my master.” ‘ * “ Ah, yes, of course. Tell Major Chutney, with my compliments, that I am Mr. Berry, surveyor to the pro- posed extension railway, which is called in the Act of Parliament in that case made and provided, ‘The “Indeed, sir,” said the footman, more civilly ; “the major would haye a fit if he thought the line was going to cut through his garden,” “And tell him,” continued. O’Rafferty, as if he had not heard the remark, ‘‘ that it seems to me the aisest way #0 take off the left hand corner of the green- house, so as. to. cut over the meadows beyond, and so reach the tarminus or junction at Oxford.” . The footman went away atia quick trot. “That will wire them, me lad ;.see if it.don’t.. Look old Chutney stumping down to us. I'll lay ahun- a Pe the lunch now,” replied Q’Rafferty, chuckling glee, ‘ In fact, Major Chutmey, an old and fiery Bengalee, was walking along the. are ; aa Saal . Bowing politely to O’Rafferty, hé said: gg ot erste I think I have the honor of address- 2s: “That is my name,” answeréd O’Rafferty, stiffly. “You are the—a—the surveyor of a projected rail- way.” “The Abingdon, Sanford and Iffey Extension Line. Our bill will be in. committee as soon as Parliamort meets,*’ said 0” erty. 7+ “ Oh, yes ; dearme!” said the major, with'a forced laugh. “ Highly interesting’ and useful things, rail- ways—um. We are atlunch. My wife and daughters will esteem it an honor if you will honor us with your company.” “Thank you, I shall be proud,” answered O’Rafferty. Turning to Jack, he added ; “ Martin.” “ Sir,” answered Jack, scarcely able to retain a smila. “Stay by the boat, if you please, until my return,” said O’Rafferty. acl boc replied the major “ask him to join you. eis ’— $ “ My assistant, Major Chutney. A young man of good family, who will some day rank among our fore- most engineers.” “ By all means take himin.- My servant will see to your boat. Here, John, Thomas, William,’’ said the major. “The boat is moored, sir,” replied O’Rafferty. “De not disturb your household ; no- harm can come to her where she is.”” “Ir that is so, follow me,” said the major, stumping back to the house. The young men were ushered into the dining-room, and introduced to Mrs. Chuntney and her two lovely daughters. Jack was ratherashamed of the whole adventure into which he had been drawn without meaning it. But O’Rafferty evidently looked upon it asa good joke, and a part of that fun, in search of which he had said he spent his existence. : Mrs. Chutney was extremely amiable, and tne daughters found the two strangers so gentlemanly and nice that they took quite a fancy to them, E O'Rafferty flirted with Alice. Jack made a little love to Rose. Ho was far away from Emily, and thought he shoutd never meet the young ladies again. 3 Such is the deceitful nature of young men, In this expectation, however, he was deceived, for he did meet them again, and at a tithe when he least ex- pected and wished for it, Pleasant as was the little party, everything: must come to an end, 7 ‘ The young men said good-bye, and as Wack squeeasd Rose’s hand, she whispered ; “ We shall meet again I hope.” “ Thanks ; I hope 80 too,” answered Jacm. Major Chutney preceded his guests to the boat. “Ttrust, sir,” he said, “ that you will find a more convenient course for your railway than through my grounds.” “ Rest easy, major,”’ replied O'Rafferty ; “ the Abing- don, Sandford and Iffley Extension shall not trouble you,” The major tried to slip a ten-pound Bank of Nagland noteinto his hand, a ~ 5 & , “ What!" exclaimed O’Rafferty, affecting indigna- tion. “ You dare to bribe me?” “Only a little present, sir,”’ answered the major. “ Bribe me, bribe a public servant |’ shouted O’Raf- ferty, angrily, This is an insult J cannot forgive. By the mowers, sir, the railway shall come through your grounds.” uy fa “ My dear, good sir,’’ pleaded the major. = “TI shall cut your greenhouse in half.’ “ Listen tome ”—— “I will have a goods station in your kitchen garden,“ be tt often ee i ia ato © major groaned, ani ‘ erty sprang into the boat, where Sack was already seated, and Dasbshiy off with stately grandeur, he lett the major standing on the grass in mute despair. When they got out of ear-shot O'Rafferty exclaimed : « Nice sort of man, nice daughters, too ; old: womna a little snuffy, wine good, house good.” “Lhaye enjoyed myself very much,” answered Jack, “Butlam sorry we entered a private circle under false pretences.’’ j “Did we do any harm ?”’ “No, you frightened the old-major, though.” “All his own fault,” replied O’Rafferty. “Did ke think I wanted his dirty money? But now, Mr: Harka- way, let us skull back to Oxford and pick up-your boat on the way. By-the-bys, we shall. be late for hall. Will you dine with me iu my rooms ?” “With pleasure,” answered Jack. The row back to college was accomplished without difficulty... , CHAPTER XXII. A ROBBERY AT THE BANK. On the whole Jack was yery much pleased with his new acquaintance. J a <a When they parted in Christchurch meadows, O'Raf- ferty exclaimed: " i act? “Don’t be later than six, and bring.a friend with you. I will ask a man, so weshall have Se pg party, Vio is much better than an angular feed of three or ve. ot bs yvet I fig Jack promised to do so, and went straight to Bir Syd- ney Dawson’s rooms, ; The baronet was 1 on a sofa, smoking as usual and leoking very an yet 7 “ Ah, Harka: ” said Sir Sydney. “Its sefresb- ing to an invalid like me to see a hale and hearty young fellow like yourself. As forme, I ama wreck.’ What's the: matter now?” asked Jack, who knew his friend's fondness for running his health down afte dissipation.
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8 . HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND, I’m breaking, I am indeed.” «Where were you last night ?” “Oh, bad. somefellowsup. Gaye a wine, you know. Asked you tocome, but you wouldn’t. Owe you one for that.” : “And,” said Jack, ‘I suppose you drank champagne, and Pheer loo until daylight ?”” “At a wine awered,Sir Sydney. “There is nothing very extraordi- nary in that, and.Iplead guilty to little mild loo, at which Llost the trifling sum of twenty-five pounds, but I will solemnly swear that I went to bed at half sy six this morning, and no one can call that dissipa- . No, my health is giving way ; I never was very @rong. Iam breaking up.” Jack laughed. ‘A man stays up all night drinking and smoking,” he said, “and wonders that he isseedy the next day. But wake up ; I want you to dine with me.” “Oan’t eat,” said Sir Sidney, with a melancholy shake of the head. ‘‘ But where is it?” pe Oh! with a friend of mine, Mr. O’Rafferty of Mag- en.” “That's very Irish, isn’t it?” “ Rather,” replied Jack, with a smile. “Will he make me laugh ?’’ asked the baronet. “I want tolaugh.” “Come and see, or rather come tomy rooms when you are ready. I want to write a letter,” said Jack. It was ed that they should go together, and Jack went to his own staircase. He found a letter from Emily, containing an invita- tion from Mrs. Travers, toa grand ball that she was going to give that day three weeks. “It will bea grand affair,” she said in her letter. “We are to have an Indian prince and his suite; his name is Prince Pempom Chatnagowrie. No expense will be spared, and we shall havesuch fun. Do, dear Jack, write, and say we may expect you.” j “I shall be there,” was Jack’s mental exclamation. Punctually at six, he and Sir Sydney, found their way to O’Rafferty’s rooms, where to Jack's surprise, he saw Kemp. Jack introduced his friend, and O’Rafferty exclaimed : i rs ted to see you, Sir Sydney. That is my friend Mr. Kemp ; thought you would like to meet a man of your own college.” “We have met before,’’ replied Sir Sydney, looking eoldly at Kemp. * Jack gave him as formal nod, as ho could not be rude to him, mee’ himas he did at a mutual friend’s, O’Rafferty not being supposed to know that they were not ona friendly footing. Kemp was in fact the only one in the university whom Jack iked, now Davis was dead and gone. He knew tt Kemp was a friend of Hunston’s, and fancied they would try to avenge Davis's death, of which liewas the innocent cause. ‘The dinner was placed on the table, the covers lifted, and # roast leg of lamb, spinach, and potatoes were re- vealed to his view. Then followed the second course. To everyone’s astonishment, this also consisted of roast leg of lamb, spinach, and potatoes. No one made any remark ; the conversation flowed en gaily, though neither Dawson nor Jack talked to Kemp more than they could-help. At oe ee came the third course. This consisted of roast leg of lamb, spinach, and tatoes. po A Y began to laugh. **Gentlemenm,’’ he said, “ they say open confession is good for the soul, and lowe you an explanation. We are victims of singular combination of circum- stances.” “I must tell you that [havearunning account at the Mitre, the Clarendon, and the Randolph hotels, but my tick is not so — ag it was. “T went this rnoon to the ‘Mitre,’ where they told:me they could only afford to send me one course ; \ really must not be so extravagant, etc. A ly, 1 went for course number two to the Clarendon’ and the‘ Randolph.’ I left the choice. of Aisbes to them, and as lamb and spinach are in season, \suppose they all imagined they could not send me anything nicer. “Tam sorry you should have had too much of a good {hing, but I hope you will not be ashamed to look a jamb in the face the next time you take a walk in the sountry.’’ ‘ Everybody laughed. Dawson declared that he never got tired of lamb. And Jack politely ssid he could live on it for a month. After dinner, Jack rose snd apologized for haying to qo away. “T havean appointment,” he said, ‘to read with my coach. I can come back in a couple of hours.” “Oh, throw him over!’’ cried O’Rafferty. “Tutors wore invented to worry us poor undergraduates,” “T have thrown hinr over so often that I must keep with this time, or he will give me up.” “Very well, go thy ways,’ said O’Rafferty. ‘‘ We ehall exp: ou, when you have done.’’ “ Me. kaway,” said Kemp, “have you heard the news, may T-ask 7” “ What is it?” : “ eee about the University Bank in High “ No.” + “Well, I heve heard there will be a run on it, and as —— is friendly to university men, I should hese you to see him and draw out quickly your cash.s po! “ Thanks,” said Jack, and a on his livery, as he ealled hisoap and gown, he left: d , and walking came to the private residence of the man- ager of the University Bank. —. Koecking at. the door, he was answered by the ty, men usually do*drink wine,’’ an- | “ What is it, sir?” inquired that personage. “ 4 J gent to see the manager,’’ replied Jack. ere 2” " “Yes, sir ; he. has stopped much longer than usual to-night. All are out but him ; heis stillin the private room to the left. 3 “Shall I goin?” asked Jack. “Certainly, sir. Mr. Barber, our manager, is always glad to see college gentlemen. Just knock at the door, if you please.” While he was talking to the porter in the imperfect light of the passage, Jack fancied he felt something or some One crawl past him. Looking towards the door, he indistinctly saw a man rise to his feet, glide down the steps, and disappear in the night. “Who is that ?” 4 . “Did you speak, sir?!’ asked the porter. “T fancied that I saw some one leave the house,” an- swered Jack. “Not likely, sir. Ishould have seen = one pass me. It’s your fancy,” said the porter. ‘Gostraight on, sir, and open the second door on the left.’’ With a strange misgiving at his heart, Jack walked forward, Going to the door, he knocked. There was no answer. He knocked a with the same result, and becom- wal impatient he pushed open the door, which was jar. The lamp was burning with a shade over it, close to the manager's desk ; and though the table, upon which were bundles of papers, was well-lighted, the other part of the room was in semi-darkness. For a moment Jack could not see objects distinctly. But when his eyes became accustomed to the ob- scurity, he started back. Lying-on the floor was the body of the manager, Mr. Barber, in an apparently insensible condition. He had received a blow over the head, from which the blood did not flow, and this circumstance induced Jack to believe that he was only stunned, and not seriously injured. An open safe stood near the wall, The condition of its contents led to the supposition that it had been recently rifled, and a large amount of geld and notes abstracted from it. This was afterwards found to be the case. Jack became alarmed. Should the manager come to himself and see nim there, he would suppose he was the theft. He did not know what to do for a moment, Retreating a ne to the passage, he encountered the porter who exclaimed: “Have you seen Mr. Barber, sir?'’ “Yes,” said Jack. ‘ Robbery if not murder has beea committed here; but hurry in and see.” “JT must have your name. sir, before you go.” “Never mind my name,” answered Jack. “T'll call again, Good-night.” With this he hurredly quitted the house, and reached on cold street ; but his brain was on fire, and he feltin a fever. “T shall know him again,” chuckled the porter, rub- bing his hands. “Those as put up this job know how to do things. I'm to have a hundred pounds for my share, and that will about makea man of me. Oh! _ one-armed uo is as smart asa weasel. He can do it,” He paused and chuckled again, “ Want to fix the robbery on this woe gent, I su pose, but I’m not to say too much until I'm told. 1 that I have to say at apo 4 is that a Oxford gent came to see the manager. He went in, and I thought I heard a fall. He came out quick, and wouldn’t give his name, and looked flurried, telling me he hadn’t seen the manager. I might recognize him and I might not. aed my lesson, and now I’d better go and see to Mr. ber.” If Jack had heard the porter’s reflections he would have seen that he was the victim ofa detestable plot. He was too much upset to go and read with hia tutor that evening, so he wended his way to his room to be alone and think, All at once he felt in his pocket for his pass-book. It was gone. Tn his alarm he had dropped it on the floor. ‘Then ll'at once a chain of evidence rose before him. The manager of the University Bank had been at- tacked and stunned while working late, and during his insensibflity much valuable property had been ab- stracted. This was the crime. Jack had been told by Kemp to take his’ pass-book to the manager; he had left it in his room; the manager had not seen him or it, for he was senseless. In addition to this, Jack had foolishly said nothing to the porter, and in a guilty manner had retused his “Ia he name. oo circumstances looked very suspicious against Then he recollected the gliding figure coming out of the house. “Itis a plot!” he cried.“ itis a plot! Why cannot these fellows leave me alone?” As he spoke half aloud, he was crossing the quad of St. Aldates. Ahand fell upon his shoulder. He started again. Were the officers of justice after him alremly ? “ You are right,” exclaimed @ voice. “It isa plot.” roe img round be found. himself confronted by Pp. CHAPTER XXII, JACK IN THE Tors, Kxmr's voite was never at any time very melodious but it gratedon Jack’s ears with more than its mm usual harshness, “T heard,” said Kemp, ‘‘as I came along from Magda- len, that the University Bank manager had been robbed.’” ; * “What ae to — me?” asked Jack, hotly. * A grea ,» my dear fellow,” answere 3 “Shaliltellyou? = a a “Tf you like.” Jack had @ strong inclination to knock Kemp down, yet he wished to know exactly what he intended to do; then he might defeat his enemy as he had done before. “The porter at the house,” replied Kemp, ‘ has found the manager insensible from a blow on the head, 8nd q large sum of money had Been abstracted from s safe. Iheard the porter give the alarm to the police as I passed.’ “Well?” “The only person who has had access to the man- ger’s room since the last of the clerks left was a univer- sity man in cap and gown, and he declares that he can swear to his features.” “ Well ?’,said Jack again, laconically. “You have just quitted the house,’ continued Kemp, ‘and you took your pass-book with you there. By the way, where is it?’ “T dropped itin the manager's room, replied Jack, incantionsly. A flush o: vy herc! mantled Kemp’s face. «‘Harkaway,’’ said Kemp, bitterly, “you ought te know by this time how deadly I ‘hate you, and that I would never lose a chance of ruining you.” “Have you forgotten how the best manin St. Al- date’s cut me through you?” .“ Serve you right.” “Did you not,” pursued Kemp, heedless of his inter- ruption, “did you not beat me when Irode the Duke of Woodstock’ s horse ?”’ “Serve you right,’’ again said Jack. “Were you not the cause of Davis's death?” “No; he brought it on himself. He was as big a blackguard as you are.” “I knoow I am what you and your friends call a blackguard, but I want to drag you down to my level; and more than that, to: get some money out of you,” returned Kemp. “Thaven't got any,’’ said Jack; “but I have a mind to knock you down.” “That doesn’t matter. I have my plan, and it is necessary for me to have you in my power. You sce that I can easily have you accused of this robbery and sent to prison.” “Hunston did it; Isaw the one-armed brute leave the house !’’ cried Jack, indignantly, shaking Kemp by the collar. “You can’t dence,’ repli rove it; because you hayen’t any evi- Kemp, freeing himself frem Jack's grasp. “Nor can you prove anything against me.” “Can't 1? Just listen to what I’ye got to say. Not ere anything? That's the mistake you make. I ave plotted this thing for a month, and managed that it should come off the first evening I met you. If you had not been a fool, you would have cut me clean long ago, whenever you met me.” “Am Ia fool?’ said Jack, al lips with vexa- tiom, and again advancing with hie arm raised to strike Kemp. ond Of course you are,” said Kemp, moving away from Jack. “All honest, straightforward, open-hearted men like you are, or men like me couldn't get the best of ‘ou. ? “Thank you for the compliment. I don’t think I ever did a really scurvy thing in my life. ‘If I did, it wasn’t done purposely,’’ said Jack, “But,” he added, “you haven't the best of me yet:” “It looks very much like it,”’ said Kemp. “The man that let you in is in my pay, and one word from me will make him pitch upon you as the supposed robber. Ican prove that you were there and in the manager's room. I found you half-an-hour afterwards in St. Al- date’a quad. If you did not commit the robbery, why did you not raise am alarm when you saw the state the manager was in?” Jack was silent. « Exactly what I expected,” said Kemp, ‘ You can- not answer.”’ “What do you want? I defy you,” exclaimed Jack, angrily. “Do your worst. What do you think of that? I'll fight you,” he continued, his passion rising. “No, you won't,” replied Kemp, calmly, You are a little raw and excited, that is very natural. You will sleep over it, and to-morrow iz will think very differ- ently, Go to your rooms, old fellow, andexpect me to breakfast to-morrow.” “J like your cheek,” said Jack. “JT ghall come to breakfast, I tell you, and I will bet you six to four [ am admitted. Remember you are in my power, and to-morrow we shall talk over matters.” As hespoke, Kemp waved his hand and walked away. Jack was left standing by himself, the prey of con- flicting emotions. , Slowly, he made his way home to his rooms. Kemp had laid his plans well this time, and circuni- stances had favored him tosuch an extent that Jack dia not see his way out of the difficulty, 4 “Well,” he muttered, “It’s no use breaking one's heart. 1 will wait till to-morrow. Perhaps I shall lick him yet; but itis an infamous thing for's man to do. I never heard or read of such s cool, calculating, vindic- tive villain.” f A ath one om bag _ entered his rooms,he saw O’Rafferty g to Monday. “Do you hear, you bisek beauty ?” said the Iria an. . me Yes, sare,” replied Monday, grinning from ear te oar. ’ “Tf you say a word, I'll kill you.” “Meé%ay nothing, sare.”
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a HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND. pe) OOOO “'There’s your five bob, then,”’ answered O’Rafferty. “Filllo!’”’ exclaimed Jack, who could not make head nor tail of this brief conversation, ‘Who expected to sap you here 2?” “As you did not come back as Kemp went away, and as the lively baronet went to sleep like a pig on my so- fa,’’ answered O’Rafferty, “ I thought I would come and give you a hail at your diegine:’. “You are welcome,” said Jack, “Sit down and make your miserable life happy. What's yourliquor?” “J never drink anything less than champagne when Iyisit my friends,” replied O’Rafferty. “Monday, open some Moet & Chandon,” said Jack. “Excuse me a moment,” continued Jack will you? I wan to ask my servant 4 question.’’ “ Oertainly.”’ ¥ ‘‘ Haye you been to see Mr. Harvey to-night ?”’ asked jack. “Yeu, sare.” « How is he?” “Him much better. Missey Hilda say the doctor yery well satisfied, sare,”’ “That's all right, Did you take the things, and say I should come to-morrow ?” “Yes, sare, it am all right,” “Then make yourself scarce,” said Jack. Monday departed, and left the collegians together. Jack wasn’t at all sorry of his new friend’s society for he wanted some one to cheer him up. Kemp's threats lay upon him like a nightmare, “Now,” exclaimed O’Rafferty, “ you must come back with me; coffee will be ready at nine, that is, if my scout is sober enough to remember my orders.” In vain Jack pl da headache; his friend would take no refusal, and they walked back to Magdalen. During the walk O’Rafferty said : “Tam going to # ball in a week or two, and if you will come with me, you shall see some fun, Mrs. Travers——” z . “ Who?” asked Jack, quickly. «“ Mrs. Travers, of y Wood, near here, has sent me aninyitation, Do you knowher?” . - “T have heard the name,” replied Jack, thinking to have some fun if he concealed the actual state of his in- timacy in that quarter. “Oh, 1 am hand’and glove there,’’ continued the volatile Irishman. “ Weare related. What the deuce tho exact degree of relationship is Ican’t tell you, but I have a vague ides that my mother and Mrs. Travers, wore somebody's nieces, and if that wouldn’t make me a sort of cousin of’Mrs. Travers, why, by jabers, I don't understand the case at all, at all.” © “TJ’ll accompany you with pleasure,” replied Jack, “who said nothing about the invitation he had received from Emily. “ You shall, me boy,” replied O’ Rafferty. ‘What sort of people are they?” ‘Mrs, Travers is a widder, you know,” answered O'Rafferty, who spoke with a little of the Irish brogue after indulging in a bottle or two of wine; “and she lived with a companion, a sweet, pretty colleen they call Emily.’’ : ' Jack smiled to himself. “ Whist, my boy !’’ said the Irishman. “ No poaching there. I’m smitten, and I fancy that Emily is rather pleased with your humble servant's nddresses.”" “The deuce she is.” _“Yes,’’ continued O'Rafferty. “I’vegot 4 way with me, Harkaway, that knocks all the women over before me. I’ve ouly got to whisper in their little pink ears, yethem a squeeze of their tiny hands, pay them a ew compliments, and they fall before me like pheas- ants before a breechloader in a hot corner in a wood.” ~ «Does Emily really like you?” inquired Jack. The foolish fellow was actually getting jealous. “Like me?” said O’Rafferty, who was one of those men who aré very fond of talking albout ladies, and de- claring that they are loved, though the ladies have only been decently civil to them. “ 68 ” “Tg it, does she like me! Me dear boy, she’s madly tm love with me. I don’t know thatit will ever come te’anything, because, she has no chips, and being poor myself, I wan't the money.” fack felt inclined to kick him. But he restrained the impulse. “You must introduce me to Emily,” he answered. I fancy Ihave heard a friend of mine speak of her, and they say that she was engaged to some university man.” «Doesn't care asnap of the finger for him, sorr,” sried the Irishman, excitedly. « Indeed,” said Jack. “No, no; I’m Ai there. You shall very soon see.” Jack’ could not @elp smiling, beckuse he knew very well that y was really deyoted to him, and that ees was only talking nonsense in speaking as he Tf he could not believe in Emily’s love, he would cease to believe in ply, at all. Wishing to push him a little further, he said; “Igthis Misa Emily pretty ?” “Well, me boy, she’s not strictly beautiful; her eyes are good, but her mouth’s bad, rather too large, and her eyes are not quite bigenough; her nose, to my mind, turns up 4 bit, and hair is rather coarse.’ the imolination to kick O’Rafferty came over “TTl tell her what you say,” he exclaimed. “Och | and she wou't belave s word of it, not she,’ grapes and replied 0” . “I’m the boy in that quarter, and if you out me out, I'll give you s five-pound note, poor miam.” | z Will you re Oothat’s » ; If Benily doesn’t speak $0 yeu all tho evening of the ball, without my permission, you yey Paine five pounds,” z * That's it,'’ said O'Rafferty. | for his mind was at work, an “Stake the money, ’ said Jack. “ That would puzzle a sinner Jike moself,”’ answered O’Rafferty. “ For I take the saints to witness that I haven’tso much in my possession by four pounds nine- teen and sixpence.” ncae 1” said Jack, ‘!Are you really hard up?" ‘ “Stumped, my boy. Hard up’s no name for it, and I’m too iter es beg for it.” _ “ Beg y’ “I call borrowing begging; there is no humbug about me. Borrowing money isa polite way of begging.’ Jack put his hand in his pocket, and drawing out two ten-pound notes, gave them to O’Rafferty. « Will you Jet me lend you these ?”’ he said. O’Rafferty looked at him fora mement as they stood ‘in the middle of the High Street, being about to come |, over to Magdalen. Then he burst into afit of uncontrollable laughter. This Jack could not understand. : CHAPTER XXIV. KEMP'S PROMISED VISIT. “War's the matter?’ asked Jack. “I never s8w such’s funny fellow as you sre. I offer to lend you a couple of tenners, and you laugh at me.” “Tcan’t helpit, me dear boy,’ replied O’Rafferty. “It's making your last good-by of them ye are.” “ How's that?” “Hand them over, I’m proud, but I'll pay youin some way or other. If ye don’t get it in meal, ye shall have it in malt, but me humble means won’t allow me to pay in cash.” “Never mind that; pay me when you. can,” said Jack, good-naturedly. “That'll be when Imarry an heiress. It will come some day. I’vo got such a winning way with me.” CO Betects took the notes and put them in his et. They were now reaching the Irishman’s room, and at the foot of the staircase, O’Rafferty seized Jack's jhand and wrung it, “*You’re a real good fellow,’’he whispered. “I never pay. I’ve told you that, but by the piper that played before Moses, I won't forget ye.” Jack returned the pressure of his hand, feeling that if the Irishman was poor, and somewhat eas, he wasn’t bad-hearted and that he could rely upon his friendship and native wit in a crisis. “ Heaven knows,’ hemuttered to himself, “ that I want a friend badly enough just now.” When they entered O'Rafferty’s room, they found Sir Sydney Dawson still asleep on the sofa. “* Hist !"’ exclaimed the Irishman, taking up a cham- | Be pagne cork and blacking its edge in the fire, @ approached Sir Gyaney and deliberately orna- mented the sleeping baronet’s cheeks, nose and fore- head with black smudges. “That's quite artistic, I flatter myself,” he exclaimed. Presently the baronet, hearing yoices, woke up and yawned. “Y’ve been asleep, it seems to me,” he said. “ Real- ly I must apologize for my uncouth behavior.” He walked to the fire-place, and looked into the glass. . “Who has been amusing himself at my expense?” he inquired, ag an angry flush crossed his face. No one made any answer. “Mr, O’Rafferty,” continued Dawson, “my face has been blackened whilst I slept, and I must tell you that if you are the author of what I call an outrage, it is a gross breach of hospitality.” re a dear fellow,” replied O’Rafferty, “it was only a joke.” “1 don’t like such jokes,” “Well, well, it will wash off.’’ “This is the first time I have seen you,” continued Sir Sydney, “and by Jove! I'll take careit is the last. If you were not in your own room I don’t know that I shouldn’t kick you.’” «Don’t let that be any obstacle,” said the Irishman, readily. “I'll go into the quad and wait for you.” Turning to Jack, Sir Sydney said, in anangry tone ; “J don’t thank you either, Harkaway. This sort of thing is not friendly, and Iam sure you are the last to approve of buffooning.”’ ack did not reply. “You at least stood by and saw it done.” “Perhaps ;I was wrong,” said O’Rafferty, ‘‘and I apologize, me boy. Ifit comes to rudeness, you know, why, you were rude to sleep when you came to visit me, You admitted as much just now. Go into my bed-room and wash it off.” Sir Sydney did so, and then put on his cap and gown. Making a stiff bow he moved to the door. “Don't go, Sir Sydney,’ said O’Rafferty. “ T intend to go, and I will take yery good care that our acquaintance ends here,’’ replied the baronet. “I detest tical jokes,” “And Llove them. See the difference between us. Good night, me boy, if you won’t stop. We shall sur- vive the affliction,’’ said O’Rafferty. ‘ Sir Sydney went away in high dudgeon, and Jack did not stay ate aie him. The later ‘had great difficulty in sleeping that night, he kept on thinking of Kemp and the new difficulty in which he had involved him. | Nearly-all night he lay swake. Towards daybreak he fell into an uneasy slumber, ‘which was broken by a loud cock-crow. Currook, currook, currook, & roo-0-0, “ Bless the fowls,” he said crossly. ‘I didn't think any one kept such things in college. I'll complain to the dons.” Again rang out the shrill note; » *Gorrook, a TOO, & TOO-0, Jack jumped out of bed and was convinced that the sound came from some quarter of his own apartments. A diligent search informed him that at least two cocks were shut up in his cupboard. c a ge everywhere for the key, but could not ind it. Reflecting a moment, he remembered the conversa- tion between Monday and O’Rafferty. “ That is it,”” he exclaimed, ‘‘ The infernal Irishman has bribed Monday to say nothing about it, and he hag brought some cocks, and perhaps some hens, and put them in my cupboard. Bother him,” Sleep was out of the question. The cocks kept on crowing one after another. Currook, c’rook, ¢’roo-0-0 sounded every half-minute, until poor Jack was very nearly distracted. He tried to kick in one of the panels.of the cupboard, which for some time resisted his efforts. At last it gave away. Astately game-cock stepped out and flapped its wings, singing “‘ currook, curr-00-0."" It was followed by another. Jack made a dash at the first one, which becoming alarmed, flew on the mantle piece and knocked down the clock and two lustres under a glass shade. Smash went the lustres. Away flew the cocks, with Jack after them, round and round the room. _ He tumbled over the furniture, broke chairs, upset the table, smashing several bottles and glasses, and at last caught one cock as it flew up against a picture which it brought to the ground with a dolefal crash. The second chase had the same result. Both birds were eventually captured and secured. It seemed a very long time till Monday made his ap- pearance, Jack saw him and threw the tea-pot at his head. “ Mind um head, Mast’ Jack,’? cried Monday, duck- ing on one side. s e tea-pot was followed by. the milk-jug, which covered him with its struck him on the forehead an contents. “What um throw things for, sare?” asked Monday, dripping with milk. “You villain,” said Jack; ‘‘ you took a bribe to let Mr. O’Rafferty put cocks in my cupboard, and keep me awake the whole night,” ; Monday held down his head in a very orestfallen manner. He had been found out. “ Get out of my sight and don’t let me see you again the whole day,” continued Jack; if you do, something will happen to you.”’ “But, Mast’ Jack”"—— a dare to argue with me and see what you'll get. Monday slunk away, much to Buster's gratification, for the latter was delighted with his disgrace. “Buster,” said Jack. ‘ “Yes, sir,” replied the scout. “If anyone comes, say I'm not up, and can’t be dis- turbed. Do you hear ?” * Oertainly, sir, not at home to neneay.® Monday, in going away, had left the door open, which permitted a man to enter without knocking. “ You forget me,” he said, with a blank smile. Jack turned his worn and haggard face to him, and nepogce rage P ad “fT told you Ishould come to breakfast. Sorry I’m late, but I daresay your scoutcan knock meup an anchovey tosst and a couple of eggs,” continued Kemp. Jack hesitated a moment. Then turning to the scout, he said: . “Get Mr. Kemp some breakfast, after that youcan go and sport my oak.” ~ In ten minutes the breakfast was ready, the outer door shut, and Jack alone with-his enemy. Kemp had paid -his promised visit. hting his pipe, he waited till Kemp had just finished his breakfast, and then said; “ Now, sir, lamatyour service. Make your business as short as possible, or I shall not answer for the conse- quences.” Kemp panto 5 took out his cigar-case, sat a cigar, and crossing his legs as he threw himaelt in an arm chair, prepared to speak. CHAPTER XXY. JAOK OUTWITS KEMP, Havin finished his breakfast with s much. better appetite than Harkaway had found for his, Kemp smoked his ci slowly, and began business. “I suppose,” he said, “ that yon have thought over ping of affairs, and come to the only possible con- usion 2” “ What is that?” asked Jack. _“ Simply that you are in my power, and are fixed so tightly that you cannot escape.’’ “You haye concocted a very strong plot,” Jack said. “Never mind the violent adjectives. I.am thick- skinned, and don’t mind abuse. It only wastes time.” 7 ‘- Well,” exclaimed Jack, “‘ what do you want me te ov” “If you remain quiet and put yourself in my han I will tell you.” * There was no reply. “Silence gives consent. Am Ito pee that you are willing to buy my forbearance?” Kemp. Jack did not reply. He was conc gascheme by which he should en- trap Kemp and Hunston. “You can’t prove your innocence,” Kemp continaed. “You went to the bank, and the porter will swe te ‘ou as the supposed robberifI ell him to. IfI<¥ vet tai him he will not say anything.” ae “ ‘What do you want ?’”’ asked Jack,
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HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND, “How much money can you get?” Jack thought a moment. “T don’t think I can get any,” he answered. “AlLI have is fifty pounds, and that is to last me some time.” 52 : “Giye itme; you must getinto debt. I want five aundred. Write home for some and borrow the rest.”’ “‘By Jove!” exclaimed Jack, between his teeth, “ you are a villain.” “ Of course I am, and I feel proud of it. Give me the cheque.” wif I do it will be only on certain conditions.” «Let me have the money first,” replied Kemp, “then if your conditions are not unreagonable, I will agree to them.” . “These are my conditions, I shall haye to write home for the greater portion of the cash, and the governor will very likely send notes. Now I want you to keep these notesin hand. Keep them from circulation for some time. Idon’t wish the governor to think that I am going ahead too fast.” Kemp thought a time: At first Jack’s coolness puzzled him, then he as- cribed it to perfect recklessness, for was not Jack about to commit himself still more deeply by giving him the hush money demanded, or 66,’ saidhe. “Tam not hard up for cash at present, and I will keep the notes fer three months, at the end of which time they will be paid into the bank.” This being settled, an appointment was made for the second morning from that, and the two parted. The eventful morning came. Jack was prepared with the notes, the numbers of which he had copied. He had also done’ something to the notes, but what wiust bea good secret for the present. - Kemp came. r “ Well, have you the cash ?” he demanded, “Yes,” said Jack, ‘‘ if is here.” And he handed the other a role ofnotes. : Kemp counted them, examined the water-marks, and found everything correct. “ By-by 1’ said he. “You will see me at the ball,’’ He sauntered out and Jack followed him. In the quadrangle s tailor met Kemp. “ Really, sir, I must have money,” he said. “Well, here is a twenty-pound note for you. Be off,” said Kemp, handing him one of those he had just re- sii from Jack, who at that moment stepped for- ward. “ Oblige me, Mr. Schultz, by making a memorandum of the number and date of that note,” said he. “What folly is this?’ Kemp asked, fiercely. “Silence! I mean to haye my own way 4 little,” said Jack. The astonished knight of the needle, who did not know what to mako of this, read aloud from the face of the note: ° “No. D. F, 120,009.” “Good,” said Jack, making #'note in his book. The tailor bowed and hastened away, and Jack, turn- ing to Kemp, said: ae “You must understand, Mr. Kemp, that I will have you keep your promise. By taking the money of me, as the price of silence, you have reduced yourself to the position ef my accomplice in any crime I may have committed, or, at any rate, you are an accessory after the fact,” 6 “Curse you!” said Kemp. “I did not think you were so artful.”’ J b tt He slunk away, and Jack proceeded after the tailor, who was easily persuaded to exchange his bank note for another which our hero offered him. . Jack went into a hotel to have some refreshment. The topic of conversation there and everywhere was the bank robbery. Things were coming to a pretty pass in Oxtord, everybody thought. First ofall an undergraduate was stabbed on the If fley road, then the Jew Manasses was murdered for plunder, and after that came the attack on the bank manager and the robbery of the safe. As for Mr. Barber, the manager, he could remember nothing. rs : ‘ He was writing letters quietly at his desk, when an attack wasmade upon him from behind, which caused him tolose his sensés, and he recollected nothing more until the porter and a policeman were bathing his face with cold water. The porter declared that a university gentleman had called at the bank about the time the robbery must haye been committed, and had gone in and out of the private room. ‘ He thought he could identify the gentleman. It was impossible that all the men up at Oxford should be mustered ime like malefactors;so that he might pick out the delinquent. r . All that could be done was for the police ‘to take his description of the collegian. ; This was a young man rather stout, good-looking, amiable to appearance, a mustache and whiskers just making their appearance, shaven chin, well dressed, and having a strong and manly voice. As there were several score of men in tho university who answered te this description, the police did not sve their way. Most people disbelieved the porter’s story, and de- clared their opinion that he himself was connected with the robbery. Jack returned to his rooms: He had got the best of Kemp. In hie own mind he resolved that he would not rest +ill he had brought the whole matter to light. - CHAPTER XXVL o _ MRS, TRAVERS’ PARTS. 4 Jacx had not been home long before Sir Syd- ney Dawson called upon him. Harkaway had, with the spirit of youth, re- to the earth and would haye covered: his good temper. — ing to Dawson he shook his hand and said: “This is jolly of you. I thought you er eut me because O’Rafferty played jokes.” ‘‘T don’t like it, though. You must shunt that man,” replied the baronet. ‘He didn’t mean anything.” ‘‘ The fellow isa perfect mountebank, 4 regu- lat Hottentot. ©T shall have a row with him whenI meethim. I couldn’t kick up a row in the man’s own room when I was his guest, but I felt most infernally riled. ‘¢ Enough to make you; but it’s only his way.” ‘‘ And a very unpleasant way, too. I never allow anybody to take liberties with me. I can’t bear to be touched,” exclaimed Sir Syd- ney. “He is always playing tricks upon some- body. “Tl lay odds he gets his head punched. Has he been up long?” ‘“*T don’t know. only met him yesterday for the first time,” said Jack. ‘* Upon my word, Harkaway, you are a most remarkable fellow,” replied Sir Sydney... ‘‘ You pick up a man whois nobody-knows-who, and go to dine with him the same day, and, more than that, you take me, the most particular man in Oxford. I shall fight shy of your invi- | tations in future.” ‘*T didn’t know that any harm would come of it.” “ You've got common sense, haven’t you?” ** Thope so.” ‘* Use it, then, in future. Why don’t you make a friend of your scout, or pick up a pot- man ata pub? By Jove! the ’varsity is com- ing to something,” said Sir Sydney, stretching himself on a sofa. ht “T fancied that every Oxford man was.a gentleman,” replied Jack. ‘“Then you make a huge mistake.. The place swarms with cads. You can’t be too particu- lar. Some colleges are more select than others, but the cads creep in everywhere. Oxford is public, you know, and coming up is only a mat- ter of money, or sometimes cheek, for fellows come up on next to nothing, try for money prizes, get into debt, and, if they fail, take their names off, and the Oxonian world sees. them no more.” “You are becoming quite poetical,” said Jack, laughing. Sir Sydney was about to reply, when Mon- day ushered in O’Rafferty, who seemed in high spirits, Pie Ah; Harkaway,” he exclaimed, ‘‘ how do ; Sir Sydney, your seryant. Sorry for the cork business just night; but I’m a county Cork man. Ha, ha! that accounts for it; and at least it mustbe a satisfaction to you to know that you ate not as black as you’re painted. Ha, ha, ha!” ‘‘My good sir,” said Sir Sydney, raising himself on his elbow, and staring insoléntly at the Irishman through an eyeglass. ‘‘T. will thank you to-address your conversation to Mr. Harkaway, whose friend you appear to’ be.” Turning to Jack, O’Rafferty exclaimed : ‘‘That is a very disagreeable friend of yours. Can’t you get rid of him ?” Sir Sydney got up angrily, “Il be a pound to a penny,” he said, ‘* you are not a gentleman.” ‘That's what you may call sovereign con- tempt,” replied fhe Irishman. *‘ But ‘really, you are yery difficult to please. Yon tell me to talk to Harkaway, and then you are not satis- fled.” ; Sir Sydney Dawson took his handkerchief from his pocket, dusted the sole of his boot with it, and then cooly threw it in O’Rafferty’s The Irishman’s blood boiled. fh He could not bearsuch an insult as this. — Throwing himself upon Dawson, he bore him ummelled him, had not Jack dragged him off. “er = ; Jack seemed to have the strength of two men, _ Standing between them, the giant of the river and cricket-field, said : ‘Gentlemen, I will have no fighting in my rooms.” Scioy The two men glared at one another. “Understand this,” continued Jack, ‘that I will floor the first an who attempts to strike the other.” ‘*T am satisfied,” said'Sir Sydney, shrugging his shoulders, adjusting his gown, and putting on his cap, which had fallen off in the struggle. He moved towards the door, when he 8 d, aye yery sorry, Mr. Harkaway,” he con- tinued, ‘‘to have been the cause of a di = ful riot in your place, but the fault is not mine.” : ‘‘T’ll be hanged if it’s mine,” said O’Raf- ferty. ‘‘I come with an apology, and, be she Tm insulted. Haven’ t I the best Irish lood in. my veins? Wasn't me ancestors kings ? By the powers” —— “O’Rafferty, oblige me. by _holdi ow ngue,” said Jack, re care ** Or ye'll knock me down, eh?” “«T will, by Jove!” . ‘That's an oath,” exclaimed the Irishman. ‘* You are too big for me, and I’veno quarrel with you, but as for that spalpeen with the tuft tassel, if ever I get the chance, Pll. kick him from here to the bogs of Kerry.” Sir Sydney, with his feathers ruffled, went away, and the Irishman'threw himself into his chair, bursting out laughing. ‘I think I shook all. the life out of him,” he said. ‘‘ But after all it was me own fault. If you play jokes you must take the conse- quences. -Llost one of my front teeth once through it, but I'll keep on till the day of my death, and now what hal Ido with his rag?” He looked at the handkerchief which had been insolently tossed at him. “T'll hang it out of my window, whieh looks on the High, and I’ll write on a piece of paper, ‘The White flag, Sir Sydney Dawson's colors.’ If he don’t call me out after that, he’s a cur.” . a don’t think Dawson will fight,” replied ack, “ Why not?” — es pe nerves are shaky, and it’s tit for tat x , “So it is. ‘We'll let it alone, but Vil hang the flag gut. No, I won’t; I'll play him another practical joke,” exclaimed O’Rafferty, laughing. : pi wish Pepe. ae at the—somewhere efore you put those cocks in my éw . said Jack, 3 i cialibeiitiie ‘*T, dearboy?” replied O’Rafferty, with af- fected simplicity, “You know you did it.” 3 ‘* Well, I plead guilty. Did yousleep well ?” ‘Not a wink all night. So if you will oblige ety taking your hook, P’llturn in,” replied ack, “All right, don’t forget the Travers’ ball. I've got lots of fun on there, and I’ll introduce you to Emily, the divine little Emily.” ‘Good bye,” said Jack, impatiently. : ‘You're in a deuce of a hurry to get rid of me,” cried O’Rafferty. ‘‘ But, no matter; ’m 0, p, h. “ What's that ?” ‘« Off ; it’s our way of spelling it. Bye-bye !” The Irishman went out of the rocm, and Jack, undressing himself, turned into bed to get hig rest of which he stood so much in need, : The next week passed without any further incident. Jeag rt Jack recoyered his serenity, and completed the insurance of his life in Kemp's favor, by which Kemp would - three thousand pounds, ‘if Harkaway di ' a _. By this means Kemp had a direct interest im Jack's death. 4 “. we he Harvey grew gradually tter, thougia could not leave his room. . . ie) to
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HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BANB. The rich and lovely widow of the Duke of Woodstock made a greater impression upon Harvey day by day. He loved her dearly. Did she return his affection ? Time will show. Sir Sydney Dawson and O’Rafferty did not eall one another out. though when they met, they looked very stiffly at one another. __, The day appointed for Mrs. Travers’ ball drew near. Both Jack and O’Rafferty got leave from their college authorities to stay away for a day or two. ; They drove over together early in the morn- ing, as O’Rafferty declared his relative, Mrs. Travers, would never get on without him. The Prince Pompom Chatnagowrie was com- ing with his suite, and great efforts had to be made to receive him, _ All the county families near were invited to meet his highness It was:to be a grand affair. Throwing the reins to a groom, Jack, who drove, jumped down from the trap and entered the house on his arrival, followed by O’Raff- erty. r Emily was alone in the morning room, and seeing Jack, threw herself into his arms, say- in f. Dear Jack, I am so—so glad to see you.” He kissed her tenderly. “My pet!” he replied, ‘‘my darling! It seems an age since we met.” Looking up, Emily saw the Irishman, and blushed. “Oh!” she exclaimed, ‘‘ there is Mr. O’Raff- erty.” u He says you are in love with him, Emily,” remarked Jack, laughing. “Don’t. mind him, me dear,” replied O’Raff- erty, looking rather foolish, t.?” : “Mr. O’Rafferty’s a relation of Mrs, Tray- evs,” answered Emily, coldly, ‘but a very slight acquaintance of mine.” “Oh, you young rascal!” said the Irishman. *¢ You never told me of this. You have been making fun of me.” “Own you were wrong, and apologize,” said Jack. y «Pl own anything you like ; let us be happy. If Miss Emily does not love me, she likes me ; don’t you, my dear?” “T don’t like or dislike you,” answered pee) “7m a nice man, am I not ?” “Pye seen nicer.” ‘‘Now, you are cruel! Ill pay you out, see if I don't. But shake hands,” said Rafferty. ‘All I did was to have abit of fun with our friend Harkaway, here. I know he was the ’varsity man you was en- gaged toallalong. Sure, youare the loveliest little darling in all Oxfordshire,” j “T don’t want your stupid compliments, Mr. O’Rafferty, so you had better keep them for some one who will»appreciate them,” replied Emily. - «Oli, be jabers!” exclaimed the Irishman. ‘This is a frost. Imust be off till the thaw comes, It’s no thanks I'll get for standing be- tween two lovers. Spoon away, my beauties ; Yl go up and ae irs, Travers prepare for those benighted Indians who are coming to- night.” He left them together, and they were not sorry at his departure. When Jaok explained to Emily how O’Raffer- | - ty had talked about her, she could not refrain from laughing. ~ ; They enjoyed one another’s society until lunch time, when they went into the dining- room. Mrs. Travers was already there, and O’Raf- ferty,; who had been out for a walk, entered shortly after. “Tt’'s a way he’s,|: “Ah!” exclaimed Mrs. Travers, ‘‘these are the Chutneys. You know, dear Emily, I asked Mrs. Chutney to allow the girls to come early. The major and herself will follow later. Such nice girls you will find them. Do you know the Chutneys, Mr. Harkaway ?” Jack and O’Rafferty looked blankly at another. : The major was a very fiery-tempered gen- tleman, and he might prove very disagreeable. Jack and O’Rafferty remembered their esca- pade on the river; how they had made Major Chutney believe they were the surveyors for the Abingdon, Sandford, and Iffiey Extension Line of railways. Mrs. Travers was obliged to repeat the ques- tion. “J think I have a—a seen them.” Emily looked suspiciously at him. ‘Here's a go,” he thought to himself, -‘That coufounded Irishman is always getting me nto some scrape or other.” The young ladies were ushered in, and shook hands and kissed Mrs. Travers and Emily; then they saw the two gentlemen, to whom they bowed stiffly. “ Are you going to havea railway through your grounds, rs. Travers?” asked Miss Chutney. ‘*A railway ?” repeated Mrs. Travers, ‘ ever put that into your head?” ‘* Because I see the surveyor of the proposed. Sbinagon Extension Line and his clerk at the table,” ‘*My dear child,” replied Mrs. Travers, ‘‘ these gentlemen are from Oxford; one is Mr. O’Raf- ferty, of Magdalen, my cousin ; the other Mr. Harkaway, of St. Aldate’s, of whom you must have heard.” ‘“Who has not heard of Mr. Harkaway ?” said the younger sister with a tender glance, . one what- She thought of the squeeze of the hand | Jack had given her. ‘‘ ANT can say is,” exclaimed the elder Miss Chutney, ‘‘that if these gentlemen are what you represent them to be, we have been gross- ly imposed upon. I know papa keeps a horse- whip, and I hope he will use it.” Mrs, Travers and Emily stared at them in amazement. : ; “Can you explain this, Patrick?” asked Mrs. Travers. “Only a joke, my dear cousin,” replied O’Rafferty. ‘‘Miss Chutney is quite right. Delightful name, Chutney—suggestive of pic- kles. We were on the river; we saw the Chut- neys at lunch. We were hungry; we intro- duced ourselves.” ‘*Under a false pretense, sir,” interrupted Miss Chutney. ‘Your lovely faces must be our ex¢use,” said O’Rafferty. ‘*Lovely faces, indeed!” muttered Emily, crossly. +--——- ‘‘ Jack,” said O’Rafferty, ‘I think we. will leave the ladies to have a chat while we have a walk, Jack was only too glad to make his escape, as tho position was embarrassing, and Emily had given him a look he did not like. She was jealous of the youngest Miss Chut- ney. Woniseiny O’Rafferty, he soon found himself on the lawn, in the center of wuich was a hand- some pavilion for the reception of the Indian prince and his suite. ‘‘Come inside and smoke a weed,” said O’Rafferty. ‘‘It was getting hot in there, and I thought it was good enough to cut it.” CHAPTER XXVII. O'RAFFERTY’S TRIOKS AT THE BALL, Wuen they were seatad in the large tent, or pavilion, which was very tastefully arranged with flowers, hanging baskets, and oriental hangings, Jack said ; “‘T am sorry we have been bowled out... Em- - 22 ty will not like me for taking part in your joke.’ ; “Nonsense,” replied O’Rafferty. ‘She knows me well enough to understand my playful dis- position.” “ Are you going to indulge in any fun here 2” “Tt’s what I came for, me boy,” answered the Irishman. “Just wait a bit, bide a wee, as our Scotch friends say. Here is my friend, James the footman; we will see how he has executed my commissions.” A tall footman entered the tent and advanced ‘to O’ Rafferty, who exclaimed : Have you made the cow allright? __ “Yes, sir, I’ve got the outrageousest, vicious est thing as I could find,” was the reply. ‘* What's that for?” asked Jack. ‘Twill tell you. My cousin, Mrs. Travers, ‘|is of a romantic and slightly pastoral turn of mind,” said O’Rafferty, ‘‘and she has had a room atthe top of the grand staircase, fitted up.as a stable. The cow is to be put inside, and a pretty milkmaid isto sit on a stool and draw new milk for any one that may want it.” ‘“Then the cow is for that purpose,” said Jack. f : ‘Precisely, and if she doesn’t upset stool, milkmaid and all, and then make a bolt into the ball-room and upset everyone else, it is not my fault.” 1 iy O’Rafferty rubbed his hands with glee. “You are sure, James,” he said, ‘‘that it is a perfect beast.” “Td back this cow, sir, against our coach- man’s wife, and that’s saying a great deal,” re- plied James. “Good, and now have you brought the jalap ?” ‘“Yes, sir.” ‘Give it to the cook with the half-sovereign, and tell her to put it in the macaroon calkes.’ “All of it? Sir, there’s a good lot.” ‘«Every h’aporth,” replied O’Rafferty. “There's the arsenic, sir,” continued James. ‘‘ Ah, yes: givethat to me. It’s forthe fish. You know, Harkaway, or rather you don't know, that in the ball-room we have constructed a little river running all round the room, made of rock work, ornamented with lilies and ferns, and filled with fish, netted from #he lake. The arsenic is to poison them,” ‘“‘What.a shame! I’ve a good mind to tell Mrs. Travers,” said Jack. “Oh, you sneak... I shall have to hit you over the head with the poker, or do something dreadful to you, if you talk of telling,” re- plied O’Rafferty.. . ‘‘You have forgotten the cayenne, pepper, sir,” said James. “Give it here,” answered O’Rafferty ; that’s to put on the floor of the ball-room, and. make them all sneeze. _ Anything else James ?” “No, six, that is all you told me to get.” “What time is supper to be served for the black prince ?” ‘One, sir, cos they goes early.” “Very well. At ten minutes to one, let it be put on the table, or say half-past twelve. It’s all cold, and can’t hurt,” “TI put it. onat twelve, sir, and have it ready,” replied the footman, “That will do. Here is what. I promised you. . Keep your mouth shut,” said O’Rafferty, handing him one of the notes Jack had lent him a week or so before. James bowed his acknowledgments and went away. “‘Tsn’t itrather too bad to do all this sort of thing, and upset the arrangements#” remarked Jack. “Not a bit. It’s fun; I'm a purveyor of fun. Imay call myself a fun merchant; it’s all in my line of business,” replied O’Rafferty. “> shall have nothing to do with it.” _ sh Why ?” . ‘It's an abuse of hospitality.” = y dear Harkaway, you're a humbug,” said O’Rafferty, mildly. ‘‘You will enjoy the fun as much as I shall, but you haven’t the Trish wit to get it up orthe pluck to help one.”
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22 HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND. “Does gentlemanly feeling go for nothing ?’ | Suddenly the cow kicked up her hind legs asked Jack, “Not in fun.” ‘“Well,” said Jack, ‘“‘ I will have no hand in it.’ ‘You are like the boy at school who gets an- | other to let off a cracker for him. Never mind, let’s join the ladies.” They returned to the house, and found the ladies in an excellent temper. : Mrs. Travers had explained to the Miss Chutneys that O’Rafferty, her lively cousin, was @ determined practical joker, and he and Jack were soon forgiven. Emily took Jack aside, and said to him pri- vately : . ‘The next time, sir, you meet a young lady under false pretences, do not squeeze her hand, beenuse you may be found out.” “‘T didn’t, Emmy,” replied Jack with his eyes cast down. ‘* No stories, sir, if you please, You are found out, and to punish you, I shall make you dante the first dance to-night with Miss Chut- ney, and I don’t know that I shall give you one till quite the end of the evening.” nn Emmy dear, you are unkind,” pleaded Jack, ‘So Iought to be, I think. My opinion is that Mr. O’Rafferty isa very bad companion for you,” replied Emily. Jack thought so, too, but he did not say any- thing, and the conversation ended, as Miss ’ Chutney and her sister were going, at O’Raf- ferty’s solicitation, to make, as he whispered to Jack, ‘‘a noise on the piano.” Jack tried very hard to be gay. and light- spirited, because he knew Emily would ask him a variety of questions, if she saw him sad, which he would have much difficulty in an- swering. O’Rafferty “was as amusing as anyone could wish, The ladies listened to his conversation and laughed until dinner time, after which they re- tired to dress themselves for the ball; the two men followed this example, and were first to arrive in the ball-room. Mrs. ‘Travers had surpassed herself in decor- ating it: : The hall an@stair-case were filled with flow- ers and shrubs, on the landing stood the cow, fastened to an imitation manger by a halter; the floor covered with straw, and the cow, much to her satisfaction, munched mangolds and turnips. Around the ball-room was a miniature trout stream, the sides of which were made of ce- ment and rockwork, and innumerable fish sported in the water, which wasshadowed with ferns and lilies.” - In the center of the room rose a fountain of perfume, which, after ascending and making fragrant the air, fell into a glass basin, where the ladies could dip their handkerchiefs. ‘‘Now,” said O'Rafferty, ‘‘ to work.” “Don't expect me to help you,” replied Jack. “TI don’t want you. Sit still,” answered O’ Rafferty. Jack took a seat under some orange trees and shrubs, and watched his companion. O’Rafferty walked round the imitation trout stream and dropped little pellets of arsenic and bread into it, which in an hour was to destroy all the fish within. 2m On the floor he sprinkled a quantity of cay- enne pepper. Jn the fountain he put same lampblack and oil of tar, whjch when stirred up, would be the reverse of agfeeable. wot Soon the guests began to arrive. Mrs, Travers received them one by one in the polished and agreeable manner peculiar to her. Among the first to come were the Prince Pompom Chatnagowrie and his suite Meeting this distinguished Indian rajah on the stairs, Mrs. Travers invited him to have some milk from the cow. — Prince Pompom bowed, and was led into the stable on the top of the stairs; the dairy-maid began to milk, while the band struck up an in- spiring strain. pieces and sent the maiden sprawling on her back, while the pail with its contents flew up against the cashmere robes of the prince. A jerk broke the halter which held the cow, and the wild beast dashed away, upsetting the prince and Mrs. Travers, and creating fearful havoc among the suite. Blinded by the glare of lights in the draw- ing-room, the animal charged down the stair- case. Many county families who were ascending were thrown violently backwards. Great was the screaming. Terrible was the destruction of muslin, A perfect panic reigned by this time. The cow reached the hall, having blundered down-stairs, only to be secured by the servants and led away, 2 Mrs. Travers was full of apologies to the prince. His highness smiled blandly, allowed the milk to be wiped off his robes, and giving his arm to the mistress of the house,.entered the ball-room, leaving his suite to recover them- selves as best they could. “Come, your highmess,” oxclaimed Mrs. Travers, ‘‘andsee my beautiful fish in real water, Iam extremely sorry for the unruly behavior of that cow, but you must forgive her. Cows, I believe, are sacred among the Hin- doos.” ‘ ‘‘Madam,” replied the prince, ‘‘I am a Mahometan.” He spoke coldly, and was evidently annoyed. Mrs, Travers thought the sight of the fish would put him in a good temper, but what was her dismay when she saw them all floating on the surface. ‘‘Eh!” said the prince, ‘‘dead fish! Ah, very good, dead fish,’’. ‘« They were all alive when they were putin. This. is very singular,” answered Mrs. ‘Travers. ‘¢ Will your highness condescend to have some refreshment ?” js ‘ Biscuit and glass of water, thank you,” re- plied the prince, still more coldly. ‘‘Perhaps @ macaroon would please you. James, the macaroons for his highness, ex- claimed Mrs. Travers. At the entrance of the ball-room the prince and his suite regaled themselves upon a- roons and water. ‘‘Now,” said Mrs. Travers, ‘‘ you will dance the first quadrille with me, your highness, I will provide your suite with partners.” In a’short time a double set was made ups and the dancing began, but it had not proceed~ ed far before every one began to sneeze vi0- lently, ; O’Rafferty, who was looking on, and sitting in a corner with Jack, said : “The cow worked well, the fish are all dead, and now the*pepper I put on the floor is making them all sneeze as if they had the influenza. What a happy day we're having.” ‘‘Tt’s a shame,” replied Jack. “Nota bit. Look at the prince; he’s hot. He want's to wipe his olive-colored face, and goes to the fountain. The ladies followed the royal example. Watch ’em, Jack! Bravo! they'll all be as black as niggers soon, and smell like gas works.” O’Rafferty was right. : The laughing was so continuous and the sneezing so impossible to stop, that the qua- drille ended before it was half finished. Everybody ran to the scent fountain, dip- ping their handkerchiefs in it, and smearing their faces with lampblack and essence of coal tar. A great confusion arose. The ladies looked at. themselves in the mir- rors, and. retired in disgust to arrange their complexions. It made very little difference to the prince and his suite, as they’ were Indians and naturally dark ; but all at once the prince put his hand on his stomach and bending down said to his prime vizier; ‘‘T am bad inside !’ “$0 am I,” replied the prime vizier, making & face, ‘‘ very bad indeed, sire.” The members of the suite all put their hands to their stomachs. Then the prince, followed by the wholé of them, made a rush for the door. 7 Mrs. Travers could not understand it at all.” She'stared blankly after them. , So did the company. O’Rafferty laughed till his sides ached. “That's the jalap in the macaroons,” he | whispered to Jack, ‘ What a lark!” “ You are too bad,” replied Jack, who could not help laughing too. ‘Wait a bit, my dear boy. You havyn’t come to the end of it yet,” answered the Trish- man. In time the prince returned, and sat down with his suite. ‘ The dancing proceeded without further interruption, and Emily so far for forgave Jack as to give him her hand for a waltz. While they were waiting for the music te begin, she said : “Tf you help Mr. O’Rafferty in his jokes, I shall be very angry with you. Mrs. Travers doesn’t suspect him, but I do.” ‘What for, Emmy ?” asked Jack, inrrocently. ‘*Oh, a great many things. We have been nearly killed by a wild, savage cow; we have coughed and blacked all our faces ; the fish are ee and the poor Indians have been takem “Tt wasn’t I who did it,” replied Jack. ‘But you are as bad, because you know all about it. Never mind: we don’t often see one another, so I shan’t scold you.” “That's right,” said Jack, ‘* don’t.” ‘Tell me all about yourself, dear,” she continued. ‘‘ How are you getting on at col- lege ?” : ‘*Very well, thanks.” ‘* Are you working hard ?” “Yes,” ‘ “Nothing to worry you since that oarows Bavis died ?” she asked. “No,” replied Jack. “Tam glad of that. Do you know when I first saw you o-day, I thought you looked nad ?” “Did 1?” queried Jack. *¢ You did indeed.” . : ‘‘Oh, it was nothing, Hard reading makes an alteration in a man, I can tell you, Emily, I don’t get enough exercise,” “Ivis silly to work too hard. Stop here a day or two, and have some shooting with Mr. O’Rafferty.” ‘J don’t mind,” answered Jack. ‘“*T must leave you when the dance is over,” she continued ; ‘* hecause I have to dance with Lord somebody or other. I forget his name.” “ Don’t fall in love with your swell, Emily.” “No fear,” she replied, adding :} ‘Oh, Jack. dear, you shouldn’t say such things to me !” “You know I love you, Emmy, better than anything in the world, I’d kiss you if there were not so many people looking on.” ““Go away, you stupid,” she rejoined, as the music ceased and the dance was over. Reluctantly he gave her up to her next partner, and went to look for O’Rafferty. He found him in thé doorway talking to James the footman, “Come on, Harkaway. I have no time to lose,” said the Irishman, © © ‘“What are you going to be up to now?” “Tt’s supper time for the Indian swells, and I want to see that everything is properly ar- ranged for them.” He grinned as he spoke, and Jack guessed | that he was engaged in some fresh mischief. CHAPTER XXVIII. AN UNWELCOME GUEST. i Qurriine the ballroom, O’Rafferty led Jack to the lawn, where a handsome pavilion was erected. ‘ © i , The prince and his suite were to have supper there all by thezaselves, and various dainties which they liked were provided for them.
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HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND. Being Mahometans, they would not eat the | that quarter,” said Kemp, with an aggravating ‘asual fare which found fayor in the eyes of | smile. Christians. O’Rafferty sent James up to the leader of the band, telling him and his men to come down at once and have their supper. This order was gladly obeyed, and twelve hungry men were ushered into the pavilion. ‘‘Now, my fine fellows,” said O’Rafferty, as the musicians entered, ‘‘fallto; eat and dri what, you like, but I can only allow you ten minutes,” ‘*Thank you, sir,” replied the leader; we won't belonger than we can help.” Prodigious was the clatter of the knives and forks. In ten minutes the board was cleared, and all the dainties, prepared at a great expense for the Indians, disposed of. **Olear out,” exclaimed O’Rafferty, who had been holding his watch in his hand to time them, ‘‘and strike up a merry tune.” The musicians returned to their places, Mrs. Travers had missed the music, but be- ing told the men had gone to obtain some re- freshment, thought the opportunity a good one to lead the Indian guests to supper. ‘-Come, prince,” she said, just as the band returned, you will see that I haye done my best to give youa repast of oriental magnifi- cence,” 2 The Indians followed her to the pavilion. What was their horror to see nothing but empty dishes and dirty plates. Mrs. Travers uttered a scream of dismay. ‘“*Who has done this ?” she demanded. The servants could give her no information. tat Chatnagoweie accepted her excuses coldly, : ; He haa been nearly killed by a cow, blinded by red pepper, inconvenienced by jalap in his macaroons, and finally there was no supper. He pleaded the lateness of the hour, and or- dered his carriage. In vain Mrs. Travers begged him not to rob her party at so early an hour of its most dis- tinguished guest. : Lhe prince was inflexible, and departed. Mrs. Travers could have cried with vexation. Jack had gone back to the ball-room, and was talking to’ Emily, when a footman informed him that his mistress wanted to see him. She held a card in her hand, and said : ‘©A gentleman, whom I do not know, but who says he is a friend of yours, has arrived ; do you know him?” P Jack looked at the card and read : “‘Mr. Kemp !” ‘Oh, yes, [ know him,” replied Jack, ‘‘ but I gave him no authority to come here.” ‘Tt does not matter, I am at all times pleased to see any friends of yours,” replied Mrs, Travers, with a smile, ‘‘ I cannot to him though, for I am nearly heart-broken at all the disasters which have befallen me to- day. . ‘‘My Indians have gone away huffed; my cow was a failure; my desr fish are dead. Some enemy must have conspired against me. Go and welcome your friend and leave me to my grief.” » Jack expressed his thanks, and went to the door, where Kemp was standing in evening dress, ‘How dare youmake use of my name and come here?” asked Jack, angrily. ‘TL asked your scout where you had gone; he told me, and as I thought I should enjoy myself at this ball, I hired a trap and came over,” replied Kemp. ‘« Ts like your impudence,” replied Jack. ‘‘Tsn’t it ?” answered Kemp, with a laugh. “T’ve a good mind to kick you out,” replied Jack, turning away. : Kemp followed him, and said : ‘‘ Introduce me to that pretty girl in pink. Who is she ?” ‘“That’s Emily.” “Who's she, may I ask ?” “The girl I’m engaged” to,” replied Jack, y. “All right. I'll see if I can’t cut you out in “Tve got a winning way with the girls; they all like me.” ‘Don’t go too far,” remarked Jack, his eyes sparkling with suppressed rage. Kemp hummed an air carelessly, and walked-) over to Emily, who was talking to old Major Chutney. i Jack remained by himself, and felt as if he could have flown at Kemp then and there and strangled the lifé out of him. ‘“‘Yhey did tt well, the rogues,” Major Chut- ney was saying, ‘‘I quite took them to be what they said they were—railway surveyors, Ah, the rascals, they quite upset my wife and I for a few days; indeed, Mrs. Major Chutney wasn’t herself fora week, But I forgave them for it. Ha! ha!” Addressing himself to Emily, Kemp said: ‘‘Pardon my introducing myself to you, Miss Emily. Iam a college friend of Harka- way’s and he is too lazy to-night to do the amiable.” Emily bowed stiffly. *¢ What do you want ?” she asked. “* A dance, if you have one to spare,” he re- plied. “‘T am very sorry that my card is up to supper time.,’ ‘« And after?” ‘* And even then, unless you have the pa- tience to wait wntil the small hours of the morning.” She turned away, and again talked to Major Chutney, leaving Kemp looking very foolish. He was crose and angry, and went back to Jack, who was biting his lips. ‘* Your sweetheart is not very amiable,” he remarked. ‘‘She would not dance with me.” ‘‘T don’t blame her,” replied Jack. ‘‘ Girls don’t like being taken by storm.” Seeing O’Rafferty at the other end of the room, Jack went to him, witha ray of hope in his heart. Knowing his friend’s talent for joking, he fancied he would help him to get rid of Kemp, the sight of whom at the ball made him feel wretched. : ‘* Ah, my dear boy,” said O’Rafferty, ‘‘ I am like Hercules resting after his labors.” “* Come and have a glass of cham., and you will feel like a giant refreshed. I want to talk to you,” exclaimed Jack. They went to the refreshment room, and, sitting down, asked for a bottle of champagne. ‘“ You know Kemp,” continued Jack. ‘‘He is here, and has introduced himself through my name. [hate him. Can’t you get rid of him ina pleasant way ?” é ‘* Let me see,” said O’Rafferty. ‘* My fertile brain is a little exhaustéd.” He thought a moment, and then suddenly clapped his hands together, ‘Bo jabers! I have it,” he oried. ‘My cousin’s wart has done it.” : ‘« What ?” asked Jack, laughing, ‘‘Mrs. Travers has a wart on her cheek,” continued O’Rafferty, ‘‘and out of that wart grow three long hairs.” ‘““T never saw them.” ‘No, because she uses 8 strong depilatory to remove them. It’s a frightfully strong mix- ture of burning chemical stuff, and when rub- bed on hair, makes it come off quickly. That's the idea. Let us go and make everything ready for the victim. James!” The footman happened to be in the refresh- ment room, “ Here, sir,” he said, hearing his name, ‘*Go and get a basin full of flour from the cook,” exclaimed O’Rafferty. ‘Yes, sir.” «‘And go to my cousin’s bed-room—that’s Mrs. Travers, you know—and bring me her bottle of depilatory. You will see it marked, ‘The Depilatory, or Patent Hair Destroyer. Folees _ Don’t drink it.” ’ * Not me, sir,” replied James, going away to execute these paler npeskaes When he returued, O’Rafferty led the way to the little bed-roo m opening on the stairs. “This is my nest for to-night, Scrape off quite full the label from the bottle. Quick!” said the Irishman. : Jack did so with the aid of a knife, ‘*Now it’s scented hair oil. Do you see?” ** Not yet,” replied Jack. ‘“‘ Wasn’t ita lucky thing I thought of my cousin’s wart? We’ll soon settle Kemp’s hash. Oh, ballysmashum! bothero! Won't he kick up an illigant shindy ?” exclaimed O’Rafferty, dancing with glee at the prospect of what he was going to do. The hair destroyer was placed on the table, a candle lighted, and the confederates went out. ** You go and bring the victim out here. Let him stand on the stairs. Keep the martyr in conversation until I give an Irish war-whoop,” said O'Rafferty. Jack nodded, and going into the ball-room, found Kemp talking to Emily. She smiled as Jack came up, and said : ‘‘ Really, this gentleman’ is extremely per- severing; he is boring me to death to dance with him.” ‘‘ Give him one dance presently, Emily,” re~ plied Jack, with a wink. “(If you wish it, I will. Mr. Kemp, I shall beat your service after the ‘Lancers,’ which are just about to begin,” said Emily. ‘Thanks, very much,” answered Kemp. He took Jack’s arm, and the latter led him towards the stairs. ‘¢That’s what I call civilof you,” said Kemp, ‘You're a good slaye, and beginning to know your work.” Jack flushed at this insolence. ‘¢Don’t thank me like that,” hesaid, fiercely, stopping on the stairs. Suddenly a mass of flour fell down upon one head and shoulders, nearly blinding ‘‘Hurrah for ould Erin ! ehu-r-rup!” was heard up above. ‘‘What the deuce is that?” cried Kemp, fu- riously. The next moment O’Rafferty was patting his head and rubbing the flour in, on the pretense of rubbing it off. ‘*My dear boy,’’ he said, ‘‘I am very sorry, but the basin dropped outof mehand. It’s on- ly flour, and the ladies wanted if, to whiter their pretty faces.” r Getting his eye open, he said: ‘“*I wish to goodness you wouldn't play your infernal tricks upon me.” : ‘By the soul of me grandmother, and that’s an oath, it was an accident,” said O’Rafferty. ‘“«Come to me room, me dear boy, and wash it off.” Kemp suffered himself to be led away to the little room on the stairs. : Here the depilatory or hair “destroyer was awaiting him. < O’Rafferty’s face sparkled at the expectation of what was coming. As for Jack, he returned to the ball-room, determined to leave the Irishman .to his own devices, _ i He felt sure that the detested Kemp was in good hands. = pats ae victim of the practical joke into the little bed-room opening from the stair-case, O’Rafferty pretended to be very what had happened.” “It's so confounded awkward,” he said, ‘to have one’s covered’ with flour—nasty stuff, flour.” : : “Very,” answered the victim.” will soop have it off,” continued the ishman, ‘Put your head in the ba- So ; lw ‘our hair with hot water, and here is some stuffmy cousin, Mrs. Tra- vers’s maid brought me, which is good for one’s thatch. It’s some sort of oil. - Will you have a little on?” ‘If you please,” replied Kemp. He held his head ina Be position, and O’Rafferty began to sqrub away at his head with a nail brush. » ; ‘“Shish, s-shish,” he muttered, as if he was grooming a horse. ‘ ‘I say,” cried Kemp, suddenly. “What, iny boy ?” asked O’Rafferty. much vexed at
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os HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND, —————— a ‘*Tgn’t that oil stuff rather hot?” _‘ Itean’t be, oil's. cooling. It’s the water, me innocent. We'll turn you out beautiful for- ever. Madame Rachel’s a fool to me. S-shish, hish.” ; The process went on for another minute, and Kemp’s hair began to come off in bunches onder the influence of the hair destroyer. Already he was bald in several places. ‘‘Confound it, how my head smarts,” said Kemp. “Stings, does it? That’s the flour. Per- haps it was adulterated with Cayenne pepper ; the thieves of bakers will do anything in these days,” i Tn extremely obliged to you for your kind- ness,” said Kemp. ‘‘But if you'll give mea towel, I'll have a rub.” ~ Pouring the rest of the depilatory over the yictim’s head, O’Rafferty handed him a towel. With this Kemp rubbed his hair vigorously. He looked liked like a mangy dog, with bare patches all over his head. Adféer the final rubbing with the towel there was scarcely a hair left. He went to the glass to look at himself, and uttered a howl of dismay mingled with anger.’ | ‘‘God bless me,” he exclaimed, ‘* what’s the matter with me?” “Eh?” said O’Rafferty, asif he did not un- derstand him, : ‘¢Where’s my hair?” 5 ‘«By the powers!”’ said O’Rafferty, “it’s as bald as a coot you are. What could have done that? The oil must have been the thing my , cousin keeps—a depilatory—to take the hairs off her mole, and they have brought me the wrong stuff. Be jabers! it’s lucky you used it instead of me.” ‘“What am Ito do?” asked Kemp, blankly. “Wigs are cheap.” _ “Wigs! Iwear a wig! It’s my opinion, sir, you have done this on eae eins O’Rafferty placed his hand on his heart. “On the honor of an Irishman”—— he be- ger mre got no honor, sir,” shrieked Kemp. “On the word of an O’Rafferty, my dear bo: a 5 : T You're a scoundrel and I’ll be revenged,’’ hundered Kemp. “This is Bad language, and a worse return for my kindness, Mr. Kemp; I’m done with ye,” answered O’Rafferty with dignity. ‘Done for me, youmean. What can I look like without any hair on my head ?” O’Rafferty hummed a negro melody, and gang: a For he had no wool on the top of his head, in the place where the wool ought to grow. ’ It’s annoying, me boy. to haye no wool, but a bald -head’s a nice thing on a summer's day for the flies to settle on.” ‘Pll haye my revenge,” cried Kemp, fiercely. He seized the candlestick, and rushed upon O’Rafferty, who was exploding with laughter, and who cleverly dodged a blow that was aimed at him. : Then the Irishman ran on to the staircase, followed by Kemp, who was soon stopped by a crowd of people going down to supper. Seeing a sealskin cap hanging on a pég, he pus it on, and thus hid his ungainly appear- anée. 2 By this time O’Rafferty had disappeared. Pushing his way into the suger room, which was crowded, Kemp sat down, thinking he would smooth his ruffled feathers with a glass of champagne and the leg of a chicken. Though his head was smarting, and he re- membered very well he had lost his hair, he - forgot that he had a sealskin cap on. To wear a cap in a supper room, before near- ly a hundred guests, was a gross breach of de- corum. Loud murmurs arose. A gentleman spoke to Mrs. Travers, and Mrs. vers spoke to the gentleman. The gentleman rose and rapped his knuckles eu the table. | “* Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. Kemp had just fimished a tumbler of cham- pagne, and had helped himself to half a chicken. ’ “There is a persen in this room,” continued the speaker, ‘* who bas dared to sit down to table, in the presence of ladies, with a sealskin cap on.” “Hear! hear!” cried the company. ‘*T request that person to remove the ob- noxious cap,” coneluded the speaker. ~~ Kemp went on eating his chicken, not think- ing for a moment that he was the subject un- der discussion. % The murmurs increased. - Itwas clear that a storm of indignation was brewing: ‘*Sir,” thundered the speaker, ‘‘T call upon you to take off your cap.” A footman touched Kemp on the shoulder. ‘What is it?” asked Kemp; ‘‘ lobster salad? Very good. Give me some on a clean plate.” ‘“* Caps isn’t allowed in perlite society,” an- swered the footman, ‘‘and you've got to re- moveyours.” **T can’t,” replied Kemp. ‘‘ He says he can’t,” said several voices. ‘““ Why not,’’ demanded the speaker. ‘* Because I’m bald)” answered Kemp, glar- ing fiercely around him. ‘here was visible agitation among the ladies. ‘*Footman,” said Mrs. Travers’ friend, “take off that man’s cap, and turn him ont.” In an instant the cap was removed. Kemp sprang to his feet, and shaking his fist in the footman’s face, threatened to strike him. “You base-born scoundrel !” he exclaimed ; “how dare you lay your hands on a gentlemian{? Take that, and that, and that, and that!” The footman, hit heavily by Kemp, rolled over on aside table and brought down a pile of plates with a crash. All the ladies screamed loudly. 2 0Os Mrs. ‘Travers nearly fainted, and the gentle- men rushed towards Kemp. ‘Tarn himecut! Kick him out!” they all cried. ‘Show him the door! Out with him ! out with him!” Bereft of his sealskin cap, and looking as wild as a madman with his head shaved, the wretch- ed Kemp knocked down another footman or two, and dashed away like a hare hunted by the hounds. Gaining the passage, he darted upstairs. The deserted ball-room was no safe refuge, so he made his way to the conservatory, which was pleasantly filled with orange trees and ex- otic shrubs, mixed with flowers, which shed a delicious fragrance around. Here he thought he could find refuge, and consider what was best for him to do. An odious practical joke had been played upon him. Of this he felt certain, as O’Rafferty must have'known what he was doing when he put the depilatory upon his head. He had beet chased from the supper-room, and would certainly be kicked out of the house if anyone found him after sipper was over. What to do for the best he knew not, and the wretched man was nearly distracted. _ Suddenly he stopped in the center of a per- fumed grove of orange and lemon trees, for he heard voices near him.’ Surely he could not be deceived. : The voices were those of Harkaway, Emily, and O’Rafterty. Peering carefully through the scented branches, he saw the three standing together, preferring an agreeable chat in the conserva- tory to the noise and bustle of the supper-room, where they could descend when the crush was over, and the appetites of some of the guests were satisfied. Kemp listened. Something told him that he was the subject of their conversation. **¥ou should have seen him, my dear,” said O’Rafferty. ‘‘He was as bald as St. Patrick, and as wild ag a Kilkenny cat. ‘Sir,’ says he, ‘you're’ a scoundrel!’ ‘By the word of an | to serve him out, and when I see him in Oaferd | Pll ask him the price of wigs.” rit have to thank “So,” thought Kemp, “I Very well; my time Master Harkaway for this. will come.” “Y think,” said Emily, ‘‘that Mr. Kemp is }a bad man, because he was the friend and asso- ciate of Hunston and ‘that poor fellow Davis, | who is'dead,” — “Bad!” replied Jack, almost fiercely. “That Kemp is’ the biggest scoundrel that ever walked the earth. He'd rob a church.” “Or take the sugar out of a canary bird’s cage,” suggested Emily. “ Or the pence out of a blind plied O’Rafferty. They all laughed. _ Kemp's face become demoniac in its expres- sion. 7 ““Tll_ give you something {to ery about presently,” he muttered btween ‘his. clinched teeth, and shaking ‘his fist in their direction. **You don’t ¢haff me for nothing, and make merry at my expense.” ; ‘‘T’s an infernal shame,” continued Jaek, ‘‘that such a fellow should be allowed to re- main at the University.” ‘But, Jack, dear,” said Emily, mildly, ‘*there must be a black sheep in every flock, must there not?” ‘i ‘IT don’t sée the necessity,” answered Jack, ‘‘and if I were the shepherd of the flock, I would jolly soon kick the sheep out.” “Leave him to me,” said O’Rafferty ; ‘1 have a talent for settling unpleasant people. Will you deliver Kemp over to the tormentor—. that’s me ?” ‘© And that’s not mmar,” put in Emily, with a smile. rs ja : ‘Shall I say that’s I, or that’s myself, sweetest of thy lovely sex?” answered O’Raf- ferty ; adding, “the fact is I am one of those men who can rise superior to grammar.” ‘*Never mind Emily,” said Jack. ‘She likes to nag a, little occasionally, I deliver Kemp over to you. Show him no mercy.” “Not a ha’porth, me boy. He's a gone coon, and has seen his last gum tree,” replied O’ Rafferty. . Kemp went down on his hands aud knees, and crawled between the large tubs that held the branching trees. He approached Emily, who was standing with her back to him, in her muslin ball dress, looking very gauzy and fairy-like, Drawing a wax match from his pocket, he struck it gently, and held it under her skirt, lighting the inflammable material in three places. Then he retired in the same snake-like manner, ‘‘Ha, ha!” he cried to himself; ‘‘ we shall see who will laugh the longest—Harkaway and his friends, or I.” : All at once it beeame apparent that a thick smoke was arising from ‘hat part of the con. servatory where the three friends were standing. “There is a smell of burning,” said Jack, looking round: uneasily. ‘I hepe the house is not on fire,” remarked Emily; adding, “‘Is this one of your tricks, Mr. O’Rafferty ?” f ‘*No, indeed,” he replied. ‘‘ Fire is one of those things I never play with.” “ Oh!” exclaimed Emily, all at once; “it is behind me. I am quite hot. Dear Jack, do please see jf there is anything the matter with me, Ina moment Jack was at work. A quick glance in her direction showed him that her dress was in flames. It was horrible to think that his darling Emily might be burned to death: With the rapidity of lightning, he took off his coat, and forcing her violently backwards, made her lie upon her back, and threw the coat over her. . This would not have been sufficient, had not man’s Bat,” re- ‘ “ O’Rafferty and the honor of an Irishman,’ says O’Rafferty seen a large tub of water standing I, when he stopped me, and says: my hair.’ Of course he had. I promised Jack ‘ve lost | close by. Taking it in his arms, he staggered under ite:
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weight to the spot where she was lying, and east it.over her in a stream. ‘Oh, help, help! for the love of Heaven! I am burning—burning !” she eried, piteously. Then she lost her senses. The water, however, effectually extinguished the fire, as there were several gallons inside, and she was completely deluged. ‘* Roll her over; serve her all over alike,” said O’Rafferty. ‘‘That’s your sort, man. She’s out. Gad! I ought to have been a fire- man. Brave!” Jack rolled her in the water, which was streaming all over the floor, and had the satis- faction of seeing that she was in no further danger. He fell on his knees, and supported her loved head on his arm. ““God be thanked for his mercy,” he mur- mured, raising his eyes piously to the star- studded firmament, which was visible through the glass roof of the conservatory. O’Rafferty was not a man of very strong re- * ligious tendencies, but he answered fervently: “* Amen !” CHAPTER XXIX. A DAY’S SHOOTING. _ Kemer did not dare to stay to see the result of his villainous work. He had hoped that he had burned Emily to death, because he would thereby inflict pain upon Harkaway. Tf he lingered in the ball-room he would be- come the object of suspicion, so he ran into the hall, put on the first hat and coat he could find, and went to the stables to find his coachman, which having done, he got into his conveyance _and was driven back to college. Emily was carried by Jack and O’Rafferty to her bed-room, where the lady’s maid, assisted by Miss Chutney, who was summoned privately so as not to alarm Mrs. Travers and disturb the party, undressed her and put her to bed. Very anxiously did Jack wait till Miss Chut- ney came in. ‘Ts she hurt ?” he asked eagerly. ‘Not much,” was the reply, ‘‘A_ little scorched, but nothing serious. We have ap- plied flour and water to allay the pain. She’s a little hysterical and nervous through the shock, but there is nothing to fear. How did it happen ?” “That is just what I cannot make ont,” an- swered Jack. ‘‘There was no light anywhere near her; unless she trod upon a match which had been carelessly dropped, I can’t think how it came about.” ‘Slipping away from the ball-room, which was again crowded with guests, supper being over, Jack went to Emily’s room.: . “Hush sir,” said the maid, ‘‘she is asleep.” Jack sat down by the bedside, watched over _ her till nearly morning, when he retired to ’ “while I get into the bath. rest, and slept like a top till O’Rafferty awoke him in the morning. “ Arouse, ye, then, my merry, merry men, it is our breakfast-time,” exclaimed. O’Rafferty. “We are going out shooting, youand I. With great perseverance I haye discovered a couple of guns of ancient make, which seem war- : ied to burst on very slight provocation.” a5 vie b will go with you if Emily is better,” re- plied J: ea = ¥ The young lady in question is at the present moment presiding at the tea-urn, and begs me to say that, bar a little pain, she is all right, the shock not having seriously affected her nervous system.” ‘That is good news. Just slope, will you, I shall be down di- rectly : I say, tell Emmy not too make my coffee too sweet,” said Jack, He was delighted to find that Emily was not much hurt, and gladly fell in with O’Rafferty’s propositions about a shooting party. . . Travers had a small estate, upon whiéh there was not much game, as she did not go'to __ the expense of a keeper. f HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND. The Irishman cared very litile on whose land he went upon, so long as he got a good shot at something. Armed with rusty, but still serviceable guns, and well supplied with powder and shot, the two started on their expedition. , ‘‘Tam afraid we shall come to grief,” re- marked Jack. ‘‘ If I see only the tip of a rabbit’s ear, or a feather of a pheasant’s tail, Iam, in the word of the poet, ‘on it like a grub,’ or, as the vulgar would observe, ‘like the bee on the honeysuckle,’ ” said O’ Rafferty. They walked several miles without seeing anything, and both the young men began to find the amusement rather slow. “T should like to get a shot at something, hang me if I shouldn’t,” said Jack. ‘* Ditto in this direction,” answered O’Raf- ferty, ‘‘Whist! me boy, look at those ducks in that pond; a couple of dozen beautiful Aylesburys, Pll swear.” “Yes,” said Jack, looking in the direction in- dicated, ‘‘and there is the owner watching them.” A stout, sleepy-looking man was leaning against some railings round a pond, upon whose placid surface a score of ducks disported themselves. 7 ‘‘Morning, governor,” said O’Rafferty. ‘Same to you, young master,” was the reply. ‘Those are fine ducks.” ‘* They be all that.” ‘¢ What will you let me have a shot at them for? Will you give me ten for a pound ?” **Gi’e me the p’und,” said the man. O’Rafferty handed him a golden sovereign. ‘‘'There’s the bullion!” he exclaimed. ‘‘ Now then, I may blaze away_till all’s blue, and have what I kill.” ‘*Tll have the same,” said Jack. for a quid. Catch, master.” He tossed them over to the man, who, with a sly chuckle, dropped them into his pocket, and walked away. ‘“‘Turm and turn,” continued Jack, ‘You begin, and I'll have second fire.” “Here goes, me boy; deathto ducks is my motto, when I go out for a day’s shooting.” Bang, bang, went the guns. Quack, quack! screeched the ducks, whose bodies soon began to float on the surface of the pond. ; ‘‘That’s my last,” said O’Rafferty at length, ‘Cand I’ve potted six, while only five have fallen victims to your weapon of destruction. This is what I call sport.” ‘‘Tet’s have : another sov’s worth,” replied Jack. “Tm game if you are: ‘‘ Here, master,” exclaimed O’Rafferty, addressing the farmer- looking man, who was a hundred yards off. . ‘¢ What be it now?” was the answer. ‘‘May we have another ten shots at those ducks ?”” . ‘You may have as many shots as you please, young gentlemen,” said the man, ‘“‘Them dooks don’t belong tome. Lama stranger in these parts; Abingdon’s my whoam. Here comes the farmer they belongs to, and perhaps he’ll have something to say to you.. He, he, he! Ha, ha, ha!” F “You old villain!” exclaimed O’Rafferty. ‘By the bones of my grandmother—and that’s an oath—I should like to give you something to remember me by.” i “Neatly sold, by Jove!” said-Jack, biting his lips. ‘‘There is two quids gone, and the prospect of a row into the bargain. Look at the farmer coming this way: he looks awfully ‘*Ten shots riled,” ‘* Let’s hook it,” observed O’Rafferty. “Stop and tell the truth,” replied Jack. ‘““Where is the man we gave the money to? The old beast has sloped off somewhere. Hang the old cheat !”’ Suddenly the farmer began to run, and brandishing a large stick, cried to a big ‘ugly dog, half bull, half mastiff, which Jack per- ceived for the first time. “Hie on to’em, lad!” Se ee eo Hie on, Grip lad. Stick to ’em, stick te ’em.” ‘IT don’t like the look of that dog, Harka- way,” said O’Rafferty, nervously. a oR L Is your gun loaded ?” “ee 0. 7” ‘Nor mine, worse luck, or I'd shoot him,” said Jack, ; ‘*Figuratively, we are up a tree; let us get up one literally. See the larch overhanging the water, with a sloping trunk ?” : Se eBa ‘Up you go, then, after me, like greased lightning. Quick, me boy, and we’ll have some sport with the farmer. Mind your gun; don’t leave that.” O'Rafferty led the way up the tree, which, as it was half down and leaning a good deal over the water was not difficult to climb, He was followed by Harkaway, and soon the confederates were safely ensconced in its leaf- less branches, with the water beneath them, the sky overhead, and in front a snarling dog, with his bare gums showing his white teeth, and a corpulent farmer, wild with rage, shak- ing a big thick stick, as if he was paid somuch for doing it by the hour. **Morning, farmer. Jack, chaffingly.: 3 ‘‘T'll make it warm for you, before I’ve done with you,” answered the farmer. ‘‘ What do you mean by shooting my ducks?” - ‘‘We paid a man two pounds to let us shoot at them. He said they were his.” — ‘Gammon. I don’t see no man; you're a couple of young blackguards, that’s what you are.” Cold, isn’t it?” said “Me good sir!” exclaimed, O’Rafferty, ‘“are you aware that you are speaking to the Prime Minister of England and the Lord Chambex lain ?” : ‘‘ You are very exalted,” replied the farmer. “Tl have you out of that. It’s time the old tree came down, and a ducking wouldn’t hurt you. I'll leave the dog to mind you while I go fora man and an axe. Shoot my ducks, will you? Ill duck you.” tip IN pies his stick again, the farmer said to s dog: “Mind un, Grip; mind un, lad,” and walk- ed off as quickly as he could. The dog planted himself at the foot of the tree, and looked savagely at the captives. ‘It's a nice dog, but I'm afraid he must go where the good niggers go,” exclaimed O’Raf- ferty, coolly. i ‘* What do you mean ?” asked Jack. ‘Why, he must be potted. While the far-. mer is absent we can escape. Hand up the powder and shot.” Jack did so, and O’Rafferty loaded his gun. Then he took deliberate aim at the faithful animal, who rolled over dead, being shot through the heart. SAH Te “ Now’s your time—quick!” said the Irish man. ‘‘Away wid ye, me boy!”” He and Jack were soon in full flight acrog. the country ; nor did they stop until they hay, placed a couple of miles at least between then and the fatal pond. All at once they espied a pretty-looking little house, half hidden. amongst some trees, and a, halted. : $ ‘*Do you see that thing in the hedge ?” cried O’Rafferty. - By ae Jack looked, and saw something small and brown dodging about in the hedge bottom. “* Tt looks like a pig,” he replied. “* Whatever it is, I mean to have a shot at it,” answered the Irishman. Raising his gun to his shoulder, he fired. There was a faint shriek, which evidently came from a human. voice, and all was still. “‘ Dead as mutton, I'll lay odds,” exclaimed O’Rafferty. ,‘* Let us go and examine ouz me,”” Scarcely knowing why, Jack reluctantly ad- vanced, feeling as if O'Ratferty’s indinenfin nate meeany had this time brought them inta trouble. Loo, loo, Gripper.| Advancing a few yards further, they gof
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2 HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND. through a gap in the hedge, and O’Rafferty ran forward, crying: ‘* There it is !” ‘« What is it?” inquired Jack. , O’ Rafferty made no answer. He placed the butt of his gun on the ground, and leaned pensivaly on the muzzle while (he regarded the object which was stretched out in all the silence of death before him. It was a child, nearly black, of Indian birth. ‘* This is manslaughter,” said O’Rafferty. *‘But who the deuce expected/to see black ehildren running about in this country ?” ‘Pll tell-you what,” cried Jack, taking the fittle créature in his arms; ‘‘ it’s one of Mole’s ehildren. He lives somewhere about here. Good God! what have you done ?” ‘ Killed the youngster, sure enough, very sorty for it, but how could I know ?” ‘« Mole won’t be sorry.” ‘© Who isthis Mole?” asked O’Rafferty. In afew words Jack told him all about Mr. Mole and his marriage in Limbi with Ambonia, their subsequent meeting in Oxford, and Mole’s flight from the university to study science and build a balloon. R ‘© balloon ?” ssid O’Rafferty, ‘Then the round thing is it, I expect.” I'm Jack looked to the right, and saw a huge |’ balloon, inflated with gas, having a car attached which was nearly completed. The machine was held to the earth by three strong ropes. F Almost at the same moment, a tall lady dressed in white, but having black hands and face, emerged from the house and directed her steps towards the intruders. “That's Ambonia,” said Jack, ‘andshe 7 a tigress. Look out for squalls.” ~ O’Rafferty stood irresolute, not knowing what to do, and then placed the childin the ear of the balloon. : CHAPTER XXX, TF 1s ALL UP WITH MRS. MOLE, “You talk to her; she talks a little En- te said Jack, ‘‘ while I go and see old ole, “ Very well,” said O’Rafferty, O’Rafferty carelessly held the gnn in the hol- low of’ his arm, and awaited-the approach of Ambonia. Ff . “ Hal”? she exclaimed; why for you come poach on my husband’s ground ?” ‘‘ Madam,” replied O’Rafferty, with a low bow, ‘‘I’assure you that nothing was further from my mind than poaching.” ‘« But you got shoot gun. I hear it shoot— bang! What you kill?” O’Rafferty did not answer. | She passed him, pushing him rudely on one side. ; ‘““My very dear madam,” said O Rafferty, “what can 1 say to appease your wrath? Lis- ten to me.” : Ambonia had one hand concealed under her apron. Withdrawing it, she displayed.a revolver with ' five chambers. ‘ This pistol,” Ambonia said, ‘it loaded. I ean with pistol kill, You mind; look out there ; let me go.” O’ Rafferty fell back. Ambonia got up the pair of steps which gave admittance to the car, the latter being about six feet from the ground, Suddenly she uttered a piercing shriek. She had discovered the body of her child. For a moment she was overwhélmed with gtief, and throwing herself on her'knees by the side of the little black child, shed bitter tears. Then thinking of the murderer, for such he was in reality, she said to herself in her own language: ‘‘ Revenge first, grief afterwards.” She looked around for O’Rafferty, and pre- senting a pistol at him, fired. | Fortunately for him, she was not. a good shot at sa% time, and her excessive agitation made der ¥ iW? tremble. oy ‘ The aim was a bad one, and the bullet missed its mark. ’ Again she fired. O’Rafferty sprang from side to side like. an harlequin in a pantomime. ‘* Och, by the powers!” he muttered, ‘‘ she will do me an injury. It’s kilt entirely I am, if the saints don’t interfere.” A third shot whistled harmlessly past. his left ear. It made a sort of noise he did not like. ‘You kill my child. I kill you,” shouted Ambonia, covering him again. O'Rafferty saw an ax lying on the ground, which had been used by workmen in construct- ing a still unfinished car of the balloon, Seizing it, he dealt a blow at one of the ropes, and severed it, ' The balloon swung over on one side. Rushing to another rope, he cut that, Bang! slish! A fourth bullet went. through the crown of his felt hat. ‘‘Biends take the woman!” he cried, ner- vously. ‘‘That’s a near shave, and ten and sixpence worth of good felt spoilt.” The balloon now inclined at an angle of thirty degrees. Another vigorous stroke, and the third rope was cut. The vast machine slowly righted itself, and began to ascend toward the sky, bearing a little southeast before the cold wind. r ‘Help, Isaac, help!” shouted Mrs. Mole, discharging the last barrel of the revolver with the same bad success, and then throwing the empty weapon at O’Rafferty, striking him on the shin, and making him howl like a banshee before death. ‘Oh plague, take it!’ he cried, ruefully, ‘she has barked my shins., What a wretch! but it’s a comfort that she’s going where she will be more appreciated than she is here.” ‘*Good-day to you, marm, and a pleasant voyage.” Slowly the balloon ascended. Ambonia’s tall figure could be seen leaning over the car; she was shrieking and making furious gestures. ; At this moment Mr. Mole appeared with Harkaway. ) Both were open-mouthed with surprise at seeing the balloon disappear, not knowing as yet that Ambonia was in it. : ‘‘ What is the meaning of this, and where is my black wife?” asked Nt. Mole. “Tt’s up in a balloon, my boy, with Mrs, Mole, I’m afraid,” answered O’Rafferty. ‘* How is that?” “She is in the balloon, which I set adrift to save myself from being shot by her revolver.” ‘*Ts it possible ?” ‘‘The child, who I also had the misfortune to injure under a mistake, is also with her.” ‘*My dear sir,” cried Mr. Mole, grasping his hand, “I beg to thank you most warmly for ridding me of— No, that is not right, I mean this is very sad. LIlosé my beloved wife and my poor helpless child at one fell stroke. Itis a pity you did not put the other little negro in the car— No, [am wrong; I mean to say there is one left to console me, should I never see its poor mother again. Iam your friend for life, my dear boy— No, Imeanyour enemy, for”— «You may say what you like to O’Rafferty, sir,” interrupted Jack. ‘‘ We all know you must be glad to get rid of Ambonia; so what's the use of any humbug? Take us indoors and give us some champagne.” ‘‘TLet me see the last of. her,” replied. Mr. Mole. ‘That balloon will go up, up, up, until it is miles and miles over the earth. Mrs. Mole will float in space ; let her float; let her float.” Gradually the balloon became a mere speck on the horizon, “Thad thought of flying in that machine myself,” said Mole, with a sigh, ‘‘ and finding a refuge in foreign lands; but now that Ambonia and one of her beautiful infants have gone—I trust forever—I will resume my position at Ox- | ford, and once more devote my life to the study ae of my favorite classics, and the coaching of freshmen,” ; f “ Bravo!” replied Jack. ‘‘Mole iw himself again.” > “Have youmissed me, Harkaway.” ‘* We have been very dull without you, sir.” ‘That is pleasing. -Come tomy house ; you shall have the glorious’vintage of champagne, Mr. O’Rafferty, for you are my friend. Give. me your hand, sir.” ; They shook hands warmly; and walked to wards the house. CHAPTER XXXI. A DAY OF ADVENTURES, Unver the influence of sundry bottles of champagne, which Mole had opened regardless of expense, the spirits of all three rose, Harkaway said thathe hoped Mole would not sal angry with O’Rafferty for what he had one. ‘ ‘“‘The fact is,” he continued, ‘‘ O'Rafferty sent your wife into the air in self-defense, as she was taking cool shots at him with a revoly- _ efive ‘““My dear John,” replied Mr. Mole, ‘‘so far from being eross with O’Rafferty, if he will permit me to. address him so familiarly” —— ‘¢Go on, sir; I feel as if I had known youall your life,” put in the Irishman. * ‘Thank you,” replied Mole; <‘‘I feel that you have done me a great service. To have lived much longer with that odious black heath. en in this Christian country, would have driven me mad, and Iwas only trusting to the com- pletion of my balloon.” ‘Forwhat?” hs ‘To escape in the night. She is worse than Xantippe, the famous shrew of old times. Oh! the life that woman has led me; look at my face, still disfigured from recent scratches, and if you could only see my ”—— Jack coughed. 1 “Why do you cough, Harkaway?” asked Mr. Mole. ‘I was only going to say my ribs. If you could see them, you would find them © black and blue, from. frequent kicks and punches. with her, n6 man need fear anything worse than death.” “What will become of her?” “(Tf she does ‘not let the gas out, she will attain a certain height, and then float about in space till she starves to death. If she knows how to manage the machine she may reach the shores of some foreign country. But that is doubtful: However she is gone, and Iam free.” Mole’s delight was intense. ‘ Tt was a little unkind and unehristian, per- haps, but really some excuse ought to be made for a poor bullied, cowed down, henpecked wretch, such as Mole had become. Ambonia had shown him no mercy. Ambonia is a fiend, and after living _ a She bullied him morning, noon and night, and struck him whenever her awn sweet will prompted her to do so. ; In addition to this, she did not allow him to have any friends; and insulted everyone who came into the house, without any further pro- vocation, , “I think I could dance,” said Mole, “my heart feels so light.” “Give us a break-down, sir,” Jack. “T will try; fill up your glasses. For let the bottle pass, and we'll drink another glass, to. the maids of merry England,” cried Mole, ex- citedly. “That's right sir. You remind me of old times now,” remarked Jack. ‘‘Go it, sir. Give us one of your favorite twisters.” e: Mr, Mole executed a fantastic dance ; and as the wine had got into his head, the natural consequence was, he became giddy. — The final result being that he fell back on the tt tumbled down with a crash, and he lay under a shower of bottles and s8e8. : 4 ss Se ‘Picking him up, Jack said — “**Wake up, sir.” exolagget ed
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and laughing gaily. . ' justice of the peace for the county, stood be- fore them, accompanied by two keepers. replied Mr. Mole, neryously. ; ee Uk Lo a SE = : > HARKAWAY “AND THE BLACK BAND. ‘ “Tiet me be, Harkaway, I am very happy,” answered Mr. Mole, with an imbecile smile. We are shooting,” continued Jack, ‘“‘and must finish our day’s sport. Will you come sir ?” “T may be a little excited, but I am not drunk, Harkaway,” replied Mr. Mole, ‘‘If you ask me to join you in the chase, I reply unhesitatingly that I will do so.” “ Have you got a gun ?” Mr. Mole raised himself upon his elbow: “Certainly I have. A very. formidable ‘weapon, ancient, but still serviceable. It’s of the blunderbuss order, and would kill a buf- falo.” “Get it out, sir, and come along—the even- lose in. soon now.” : Mr. Mole rose, took a glass of brandy to steady his nerves, and attired himself for the chase with leather gaiters, a loose shooting mn) . coat, and a large muzzled gun.. Thus equipped, he leftthe house, saying that Mrs. Mole.had gone fora trip with the eldest child in the balloon, and he did not know when she would return, The servant did not see anything wonderful in this, as her mistress had shown herself to be very eccentric on several occasions, Ambonia had beaten her with flat-irons and rolling-pins. It had cost Mr. Mole several pounds to in- duce the servant to forego a prosecution in the police court. Therefore the woman was no more sorry at her mistress’s disappearance than Mole was himself. The three sportsmen went out in high spirits, and walked a couple of miles talking ‘Here we are at the property of Squire Western,” said Mr. Mole. He’s a strict pre- server of game. Mind what you are about.” ‘« That’s a likely-looking wood for pheasants,” said Jack, “Out in,” said O’Rafferty. ‘‘ Leave Squire Western, and his keepers to me.” Mole shrugged his shoulders, A hare got up, O’Rafferty fired, and the animal rolled over dead. ‘‘Home they brought the wild hare dead. First to the boy ?” said O’Rafferty, picking. up the spoil. All at once a stern yoice exclaimed : _ ‘What are you doing on my ground, you fellows?” : ‘Squire Western, by the holy poker!” said O’Rafferty. ‘(Ill lay six to four on. it, and stake the money.” _ A tall military-looking man, who was indeed My. Western, the lord of the manor, and a ‘“We—we were merely taking a walk, sir,” “Nonsense ! you are trespassing and poach- ing. I saw one of you killa hare ; that hare be- longs tome. Take it away from him, Jarvis,” said the squire, The keeper, a thick-set, burly fellow, ap- grated. "Rafferty, who threw the hare at|P “Take it, if you want it. Perhaps a dinner _is an object to your master!” he exclaimed. “No insolence, fellow!” cried Mr; Western, addi (id ** Yes, sir,” replied the keeper. “Take their guns from them.” Mr. Mole was about to give up his blunder- buss, when Jack put his hand on his arm. “Tl be hanged if we do!” he exclaimed. #‘Stand back, man !” e keeper hesitated. “Tf you are Mr. Western, listen to me,” he continued. .‘‘ We are gentlemen from Oxford. My friend, Mr. O’Rafferty and myself are stay- ing with Mrs. Travers, who is a neighbor of yours. The other gentleman is Mr, Mole, an Oxford fellow, who has: property near here,” » Mr. Western regarded them curiously. “How amItoknow this to be true?” he | waked 2” Fs “Simply because Iam not in the habit of telling lies,” replied Jack. ** Who are you ?” ‘Mr, Harkaway, of St. Aldate’s.” ‘* Indeed,” said Mr. Western, ‘‘ Pardon my rudeness, but really I have suffered so much from poachers that I am obliged to be strict. Game preserving is expensive, as, of course, you are aware; but if 1 had known who you were, I would have given youa day’s shooting ieee Ne of and put my keepers at your dis- 58 ag ‘“We did not know we were on your grounds,” said Harkaway. “Don’t say another word. I am an old rowing man and an Oxford man, Mr. Harka- way, and I feel proud at having met such a distinguished member of my university, Who has not heard of Mr. Harkawhy, of St. Aldate’s, the best oar and bat of his year? Will you and your friends honor me with your company to lunch? Don’t say no.” ‘*Me dear boy,” said O’Rafferty. ‘‘I never say ‘no’ toa good thing. Let me answer for myself and friends.” The squire smiled, and they walked on, chat- ting pleasantly together, the keepers being now as respectful, as they had formerly been the reverse. A fine pheasant got up with a low whirr on the skirts of a wood, and was close to Mr. Mole. “Shoot away, sir; it’s a cock,” said the squire, ‘*Ah, yes, I perceive,” said Mr. Mole, bring- ing his blunderbuss to his shoulder slowly and taking deliberate aim at the trunk of a tree. ‘* Fire, man, alive, or you'll be too late!” continued the squire. Mr. Mole shut his eyes, put his feet firmly together and with great dif- ficulty pulled the trigger of his antiquated fowling piece. ’ } There was a loud explosion, and Mole fell on his back, grasping the butt of his*blunderbuss, the barrel having gone in minute pieces in various directions. ' “Good gracious! the has burst!” cried the squire. ‘‘ Who let him go out with such a thing as that? Why, it must have been as old as his grandfather. Such guns haven’t been used since the days of George the Third.” ‘‘ Ts he hurt ?”’ asked Jack, seeing O’Rafferty run to his assistance. : A slight examination showed the Irishman that, though Mr. Mole’s face was blackened, and his hands burnt a little, he had escaped without any serious injury. The keepers who were near him had not been so lucky, One had received a splinter in the leg, and the other was peppered about the arm with some No. 2 shot. ‘* He’s all right,” replied O’Rafferty. “Tam not right,” answered Mr. Mole, springing'to his feet. ‘‘ This issome diaboli- cal plot to ruin me. I know Harkaway of old. Good-bye, gentlemen. I’m off, as I do not choose to risk my precious life in your com- any.” A gate leading into a small meadow was be- fore him, and he climbed over it. “Hi, sir! Stop!” said Harkaway.. ‘‘It wasn’t our fault. You shall have my gun.” Mr. Mole wayed his hand carelessly, and dis- appeared behind a hedge. «Where has he got to?” asked the squire. By Jove! I think that is the field the “bull + in.. I say Jarvis, stop that whimpering. f you have got a charge of shot in you, it wou. kill you, will it?” ‘No, sir,” answered the keeper, making a grimace. The gentleman will give you a five pound note, I daresay, by way of a shinplaster, ; will he not, Mr. Harkaway ?” : “Oh, yes ; undoubtedly.” “'T never knew a keeper in my life who ob- jected to a peppering if he got his fist full of gold for it,” continued Squire Western, add- ing, ‘‘ Now then, answer my question. Isn’t it our bull in that field.” “Yes, sir; and almighty savage he is too,” replied Jarvis. ‘“‘ Call the gentleman back, then, and look slippery, or it will be too late.” ‘The whole party approached the gate lead- ing to the field in which the bull was placed. ‘* Hi, you sir,” shouted Jarvis, “‘mind the bull, -Look out, sir.” The warning came too late, Already the bull had seen Mole, and Mole had seen the bull. Lashing his flanks with his tail, and uttering a deep bellowing, the bull at once gave chase. Away went Mole with the wings of the wind, and away Went. the bull after him. F Fortunately for Mole, the bull was quite at the extremity of the small paddock where sighted the intruder, who had not far to. run to reach the hedge. i fe 1a 30" Here again he wasat fault. .« ue 3 It was a thick, tall and quicksethedge, with- out the ghost of a gap in it. Pj How to get over was the question. In vain Mole tried to climb up it. He only scratched himself in the hopeless at- tempt. Then he charged it with his back, and tried to butt his way through it with his hat, It was utterly useless; however, to persevere. While he was deliberating and trembling in every limb, bathed in a cold perspiration, and eyen shedding tears of terror, the sound of the bull’s hoofs behind. him, and a deep bellow, riveted him to the spot, frozen with horror. ‘‘Harkaway has done this for me,” he said to himself, with ashy lips, from which issued a faint moan. The bull saved him the trouble of ;any furth- er reflection, for, putting down his’ head, he very quickly lifted Mr. Mole on the top of his horns, and tossed him as easily over the hedge asif he had been a baby. This was witnessed from the other side of the field. O’Rafferty burst into a roar of laughter. ‘‘That’s what Icall a joke,” he said. ‘f'That man Mole is a gift. Ican see there is lots of fun tobe got outof him. Is he always like that ?” ; ‘‘ Always,” replied Jack. ‘‘Old Mole’s a great lark, I can tell you.” j ‘Don't talk, gentlemen, if you please. Skirt this field so as to avoid the bull; and let us go to your unfortunate friend. He may be seri- ously injured, and that, you will admit, would be no joke,” exclaimed the squire. Nothing more was said. All hastened to the spot where Mr. Mole had disappeared, anda quick run of a few minutes brought them to the laborer’s cottage; at the back of which was the hedge over which the bull had tossed him. Look, look!’ cried. Jack, “There he is, “« What on earth is the man doing ?” Mole was throwing his arms about wildly, hitting himself on his head and face, and stamping his feet vigorously. ‘“He’s mad. Perhaps when the bull hy ke him he fell on his head,” said the squire. ‘No, me boy,” said O’Rafferty, whose quick eye had detected the cause of his confusion. ““Can’t you see the beehives ?” “The what ?” ; ; “Under the hedge there. Mole has tumbled into an apiary belonging to this cottager, and the bees are resenting the intrusion.” ‘«So they are, by George,” replied Jack. ‘« They'll killhim. Bees. are ugly customers to tackle.” Suddenly Mole, stung to madness, went off at a run, but he had not gone far before he disap- peared, : He seemed to have sunk into the bowels of the earth. F : Nothing could have been stranger than the mysterious yanishing. ie ‘Where has he gone now?” asked Jack, ORaterty hay laughing till the tears ran down his cheeks. Poa SFY “Oh, carry me out,” he sdid, holding his’ sides. ' ‘‘ Take him home, some of you, or he'll! ri t j
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HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND. Se ce aaa Sa On: El (Minne fi ee be the death of me. He makes me laugh too much.” ‘‘ What has he done now ?” inquired Jack. “Gan’t you see. He’s tumbled down the well; there is the windlass standing close by. A hundred to one it’s a well,” replied O’Raf- ferty. ‘ Really,” remarked the squire, ‘‘you are a most heartless young man; your friend’s mis- fortunes only provoke your mirth. Perhapshe is dead by this time.” “Not he, my good sir,” answered the Ivish- man, ‘That man has as many lives asa cat. Don’t be in a hurry to get him out ; the water will cool him.” ‘Nonsense, we must not be brutal,” said the squire, impatiently. © He was about to advance to the well, when O’Rafferty laid his hand on his arm. ‘““Wait,” he cried. ‘* Look, there is the cot- tager’s wife coming for some water. Now you'll see a lark, or ’m a Dutchman.” The little. party halted again, and concealed by a thin fringe of shrubs, watched the pro- ceedings of the woman, who, as sho held a jug in her hand, had evidently come for some wa- ter, as'O’ Rafferty had rightly guessed. When Mole slipped into the well, he had caught hold of the bucket, which went down with him till he reached the bottom. Getting into the bucket, he stood upright, holding on to the chain with his hands. The woman thought the bucket very heavy, but steadily wound the chain round the wind- lass. To her surprise and horror, a man’s face, wild and haggard, appeared on a level with the brickwork of the well. Fancying it was a ghost or an evil spirit, she uttered a piercing shriek, let go of the handle, and ran howling into the house. Down went Mole a second time, cursing the woman’s stupidity, and wondering if any one else would come to his aid. “Tt is always my luck when I go out with Harkaway,” he said to himself; ‘‘ I> really ‘must cut that young gentleman’s acquaintance, As a pupil he 1s very well, but as a friend dan- gerous in the extreme.” Seeing that’ the woman had left Mole to his fate, the squire walked to the well, and with the keeper's assistance raised the bucket. Mole stepped out more dead than alive. He was sore from the explosion of the blunderbuss, he ached from the toss the bull had given him, he smartéd from the bees’ stings, and he was wet through, and chilled to the bone. ‘Take me home to die,” he moaned. ‘Put him to bed in the woman's cottage,” said the squire. ‘‘I will send him all he re- quires from my house.” This was accordingly done. Mr. Mole went to bed, and had some oint- ment rubbed over his stings. When he woke up an excellentdinner had been sent from the hall, and ‘the next morning he was, though stiff, able to crawl home, Here no news of Ambonia awaited him. What had become of her was simply a mat- ter of conjecture. “No news, good news |” thought Mole. y CHAPTER XXXII. THE LIGHT IN THE SAND PIT. _ Squims Western laughed heartily over Mr. Mole’s misadventures, when he found he was , not seriously hurt. He gave the two Oxford men an excellent Junch, and they were sorry when it was time to | ping retrace their steps to Mrs. Travers’ residence. ‘But they could not stay, as their hostess dined at six, and they had several miles to walk, | “Wishing the _ good-day, and heartily _ thanking him for his kindness, they started on their homeward journey, both a little flushed and excited with the wine they had drank at Mr: Mole’s house and at the - After walking about a mile, they lost the road, which was extremely disagreeable, as they did not know the country at all. It was rapidly growing dark. ‘JT don’t like this,” remarked Jack, ‘‘Nor I,” remarked O’Rafferty. He stumbled in a puddle as he spoke, splash- ing the muddy water all around. “ Hold up,” said Jack. “Tll be hanged if I can,” answered O’Raf- ferty, ‘‘I drank too much of that champagne at Mr. Western’s, and, like a donkey, mixed it with brandy.” ‘*Never mix your liquors.” ‘¢T don’t asa rule—lic—but it’s no use deny- ing it, I’m half slewed, and the further I walk the worse I get.” This confession took Jack by surprise. He found himself lost on a dark winter night, with a companion who was tipsy. What was he to do? ‘* Tf we could only find # cottage with a good fire I shouldn’t care,” he said, perplexed. “ AhY’ exclaimed O’Rafferty, ‘‘ Cottages are fine things. ‘That’s—hic—why [like Ire- land. It’s all cottages.” ‘* And pigs,” suggested Jack. O’'Rafferty stopped, and looked at him with drunken gravity through the growing darkness. ‘Tg it insulting me country—hic—that ye are ?” “Not fora moment. I like roast pork and plenty of potatoes,” answered Jack. ‘Sure if ye were to say one word against my country,” said O’Rafferty, staggering, ‘‘ I'd have the heart of ye, Harkaway. I’m an Oirishman, bred and bor-rn, me boy, and I’m proud of it, With me sprig of Shillayley and shatarock so green, och ; it’s an illigant thing to be an Oirishman, and a broth of a bhoy into the bargain.” *Doesn’t your brogue come out when your tight,” asked Jack, “Small blame to me, if I don’t speak like the Saxon.” “Don't. stand there jawing.. Come along, do,” cried Jack, impatiently. , “Ye're as bad as a.wife, with your orders, and ‘come along, do's,’” replied O’Rafferty. ‘Shall I sing you a song?” “«* Before I was married I did as I liked, And went wherever I chose, An’ now I am wedded, I’m nothing at all; It's my wife is the cause of my woes.’ Never get married, Jack—hic—marriage is a mistake, me bhoy.” “ Are you going to stay here all night?” “Not knowing, can’t say—hic.’ “Take my arm, I'm shivering with this damp searching cold,” said Jack. “T’m as warmas a toast, Sit downand have asong. I have been screwed before this,” re- marked O’Rafferty. ‘ Being screwed is noth- ing when you're used to it.” ‘ Jack fancied he saw a man approaching him. Nor was he mistaken. A tall slouching fellow came close to them. He was dressed in a rough, careless fashion, looking like a cross between a laborer and a Sy. ‘‘T say, master,” said Jack, ‘‘ can you tell us whichis the Oxford road?” ‘Yes, I can, but I shan’t,” was the surly re- ly. Pm Chuck us a couple of dollars, and that will be five bob apiece then,” said the man. ‘¢ Here’s half a sovereign,’’ answered Jack. The man took it, and put it in his pocket, and whistling to himself, walked off. “Here, I say, hi!” cried Jack. ‘¢ What do you want?” cried the man, stop- > ‘You're to show us the way.” “J didn't say so. Good-night,” replied the man, and with a derisive laugh he vaulted over a stile'and disappeared. “Done, by Joye!” cried Jack, flushing an- y- s, Se one by a clever scoundrel, I should say,” replied O’Rafferty. ; s “This ought to be a lesson to you, my boy. Never part with the ready until a service has— — hic—been—hic—actually rendered.” ‘‘You’re right; there are only two bad pay- masters, those who pay beforehand and those who don’t pay at all,” replied Jack, bitterly. “Tf that fellow had only stopped—hic—I’d - have shown him a neat imitation of Donny- brook Fair, with me sprig of shillayley and shamrock so green.” CHAPTER XXXII. THE BLACK BAND. “ Porn yourself together,” cried Jack te O’Rafferty. '_‘‘ It will never do to stop here all . night. Take my arm.” With some difficulty he drew his unsteady companion along: Once or twice the Irishman let his gun fall, and Jack had to carry the two under his disen- gaged arm. e moon, which was in its first quarter, now struggled through the drifting clouds which continually obscured its disc. Suddenly Jack stopped, and threw his friend violently backwards. ‘«Base her, back her, stop her,” said O’Raff- erty. ‘But I say, me jewel, if you must stop the ship, do it more gently—hic—next time. You’ve spoilt a new pair of ‘sit-in-ems’ in the mud. I wish—hic—ye’d keep sober, Harka- way, when I take ye out for a day’s enjoy- ment.” ** Don’t you see we are at the edge of a pit?” replied Jack. ; f “Ts it a bottomless: pit—hic ?” “T can’t tell at present, though it looks to me like an old disused a It’s Incky the moon came out, or we should haye been gone coons. , He peered down into the depths of the pit. . All at once he laid his hand on his compan- ion’s arm, saying: : hee hid a ‘Hush a bye baby on a tree top!” sang O’Rafferty. 5, f : “Deuce take it, man 1” cried Jack, losing his temper. ‘‘ Will you be quiet?” ; $6 is it then ?” ‘*«T see a light in the pit.” t - Jack-o’-lantern, perhaps.” ‘Tt is a lantern. Probably it belongs te gipsies or thieves.” ; “Anyone is better than no one at a time— hic—like this,” said O’Rafferty. ‘I'll go and join them; perhaps they've got’ a drop of the crater and a bit of bacca. Come along.” Before he could prevent him, O’Rafferty bed stepped forward, and losing his footing on the top of the pit, vanished. “ Good Heavens!” cried Jack, ‘the foolish fellow will be killed. He has fallen into the ~~ pit.” It was true. O’Rafferty had disappeared in the gloomy abyss. Feeling embarrassed with the guns he car- ried, Harkaway laid them under a bush. For this he was sorry afterwards. / s The accident that had happened to O’Raffe: ae, ty, alarmed him. si * cep He had begun to like his volatile , who was certainly amusing if nothing else The Irishman’s fondness for practical joking was notatall times to be approved of, but it was born in him. ‘ Thinking only of O’Rafferty, Jack looked at the side of the pit, and after a slight exami tion, found that the bank was shelving an ‘tbe upright or perpendicular. 3 This was a reassuring fact. ; On the rough edge of the bank grew some wild stunted shrubs and trees, by the aid of which Jack groped his way down. WS The depth was not great. is ier a more than abe twenty or thirty feet, and in a short time Jack had gain- ed the bottom. eer: He looked around him. ‘ The Jantern had disappeared, and there was 6 _ ‘ nd
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t ' Pa ~ —— - not a gleam of light to be seen, except the sil- very radiance which was afforded by the in- fant moon. Disused for some years, the sand-pit in some places was filled with water, which, at the further extremity—that being the lowest rt—was some yards in depth. O’Rafferty had rolled down the shallowest xt; though, had he been on the other side, e would have tumbled over a precipitous eliff into a deep lake. j * A groan starled Jack. ‘* O’Rafferty,” he cried, ‘‘ are you near me ?” “‘T believe you, me boy,” was the ready an- swer. ‘‘I’ve got a beautiful bed of sandstone, and will thank ye to lave me alone, for it’s just forty winks I’m going to have, and sleep off the champagne—hic. If it hadn’t been goose- berry, it wouldn’t have had any effect on—hic ~—Dennis O’Rafferty.” **You are not hurt.” ° *‘ Devil a bit—hic !” ‘*No bones broken,” continued Jack. “Not arib. It was as easy going down as shelling peas, or rolling along that hill in Greenwich Park on Good Friday with a pretty girl by your side screaming with—hic—ginger beer and joy. Good-night; make yourself happy, and believe me to be, yours truly, Den- nis O’Rafterty—hic ?” * Aloud snore, which Jack had before taken for a groan, followed this speech. Feeling that the Irishman could not come to any harm where he was for a short time, Jack gave up the idea of trying to wake him. “Let him sleep off the wine,” he muttered. “He can do no hurt.” At length Jack knocked his elbow against a " projecting ledge in the side of the sand-pit. ‘© Hold hard,” he said to himself. Turning his head a little on one side, so as to see what was beyond the hedge, he held his breath. He heard voices. « He saw a light. True, it was only a faint glimmer, but still it was not a Jack-o’-lantern or Will-o’-the-wisp. - Sinking on his hands and knees, he crawled yery gently along the damp sand for about half a dozen yards, when he perceived two * men, who were talking together. However, he lay perfectly stil] and listenod. ‘Tt isn’t time yet,” saidone of the men. ‘‘It can’t be more than seven o’clock, and I never eracked a crib in my life before twelve. “Who wants to hurry!” replied the other. . ‘‘Not I. Come inside, and I'll give you a game of crib for an hour or two.” “Pye got no money.” ‘“‘Tl trust you. We shall get plenty of swag to-night at Squire Western’s: ‘They say his plate is worth thousands.” This remark enlightened Jack. He had come across, accidentally, a band of men who were going to commit a burglary at »’ the house of the hospitable squire who had en- tertained him and his friend but a short time before. ‘Though his intention was a dangerous one, he could not resist the temptation of ventrilo- quizing a little. '” 'Threwing ‘his voice into the middle of the sand-pit, he exclaimed, in a rough tone : _ You must be a couple of flats.” The men started. ne ha!” laughed Jack. ‘You are ing Squire Western, thinking his plate i gol silver, when it’s all duffing electro. Ha, hal?s Dj@you hear that, Ben Shardler?” said ene of the men, nervously. wigs I did, Dick Menzey,” answered the erpequally alarmed. : i ve Jack a knowledge of their names, for Wough they spoke gently, he heard them distinctly, being close to them, while they ee ‘him a long way off. ‘*T#g time you were copped, Ben Shardler,” he cried. ‘‘The police have been after you long enough.” ‘He knows my name,” said Shardler. “It’s a detective,” replied Menzey. HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND. ‘‘ Speak different,” continued Shardler. “What do you mean. Ackber angsler?” said Menzey. ‘‘Tigyer,” exclaimed Shardler. Luckily Jack understood what they intended to do, for he had heard a dog fancier in Oxford, who knew everything and everybody, explain one day what the language of betting men and thieves was. Men of that description have invented a language very difficult to interpret, but which is easily intelligible to those who are instracted in it. The mode of speaking is simple enough. The language is called back slang. To speak it you, must take off the first let- ter from each word. This is put at the end. Then you add “er.” , Sometimes ‘‘k” is added before or after a vowel, asin the case of ‘“if,” or ‘‘I;" which would make ‘ifker” or ‘iker.” ' So that. ‘‘ackber angéler,” is simply “ back slang,” and ‘‘esyer is ‘‘yes.” With his explanation our reader will be able to follow the conversation of the two thieves. ‘ ‘*T mean to have you to night, all the lot of you,” exclaimed Jack. ‘* Oder ouyer earher atther ?” said Shardler ; ‘cher eansmer Oter opker oter ightner.” ‘ Otner ifker Iker,” answered Menzey. » ‘*Who’s in the cave ?” askedJack. ‘ You’d best tell the truth,” The two men men held a consultation. Shardler said : y ‘Right you are. VU settle him. Where is he?” : ‘‘Not far off,” answered Menzey. ‘‘ Dead men tell no tales.” ‘ ‘True for you, my boy,” responded Shard- ler, 5 . As he spoke he ran forward in the darkness, and was presently heard plunging into some water. ‘« At'swer ether ameger ?” asked one. ‘Ewer avyeher otger aker risonerper,” »e- plied Menzey. ‘* Aliker ether aptainker,” said Shardler. One of the men went to a bed of moss and straw in a cerner, and roused a man. : By the dim light of an oil lamp, which hung from the ceiling Jack perceived features which were well known to him. ‘“‘Hunston !” he involuntarily exclaimed. The captain of the thieves was his old enemy. Hunston was in command of the band in whose power he unhappily found himself. ‘Harkaway !” replied Hunston, who was equally astonished. Jack glanced defiantly at him. } He could now guess where Hunston had been hiding, while the Oxford police had been look- ing everywhere but in the right place for him. “«Tsker eher loneaker ?” replied Hunston. ‘‘Fisyer, aptainker,” replied Menzey. ‘* Erewher idder ouyer indfer imher ?” ‘‘Outker ideser ether aveker.” . ‘* Indber isher armsker,” said Hunston. Ina moment a thick cord was fastened round Jack's arms, and he was rendered powerless. 5 2 What do you mean to do with me?” asked ack. ‘* Kill you,” replied Hunston, with a sayage glance. ‘‘You have fallen into the hands ef the Black Band, and they never spare their enemies.” **You cannot mean what you say,” answered Jack, ! ‘“Harkaway,” said Hunston, ‘‘you have been my ruin through life. I should not now be in the position I am, were it not for you, and do you think I ever forget or forgive ?” “You might at least be merciful to a man who has neyer intentionally done you any harm.” 3 ‘* Bah!” replied Hunston, Harkaway, I become a wild blood.” ’ : ‘«T always thought you were a brute and a; ‘when I see you, beast ; I long for ‘‘Here lam. Come on,”’ said Jack, as if he | savage,” replied Jack, coolly. was straight in front of him. ‘Help, I’m drowning,” cried Shardler. ‘*More fool you,” replied Menzey. have got into the water, you must get out of it.” In ashort time Shardler emerged wet and shivering. } ‘Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Jack. ‘‘He’s there,” cried Shardler. ‘I only wish I could swim ; I'd have him.” ‘“On'tder alkter oser oudler,” cried Menzey cautiously. ** Ouyer ayeher aker ryter,” said Shardler. Menzey thought he would have a try, but he took a roundabout route, and unluckily fell over Jack. ; _ Turning round he seized him in a grip of iron. ‘‘Omeker, oter ymer elphet,” he cried. Shardler was by his side in 9, moment. Between them they overpowered Jack. ‘*So we have got you at last, my man,” said Shardler. ‘‘ You will have to come inside, and if you ever come out of that cave alive, you'll have luck on your side.” It was in vain for Jack to make further re- sistance, for the two men were more than a match for him, They held him tightly, and dragged him through an opening into the cave. The passage was long and narrow. At length it opened into a series of sandstone caverns, in one of which he saw half a dozen men assembled. They were smoking and drinking; some were playing cards, others talking over a great fire, the smoke of which rose in great volumes to the ceiling, and disappeared through an ap- erture in the sandstone, Their seats were rudely made benches of wood, and there were two tables of unpol- ished deal, on which stood bottles and a jar of tobacco. The men were ill-looking gipsies, As Shardler and Menzey entered with their captive, they all looked up inquiringly. / Hunston waved his one arm, and said: ; ‘You have been the cause of all my misfor- at last. ‘‘Tf you | tunes, and, by heaven, I will have my a Nie Tf you had not the luck of Old Ni !T should have settled accounts with you before now.” ‘* While there is life there is hope,” answered Jack, affecting a gayety he did not feel. “Take him into the outer cave and let him lic there. Tie his legs, and shoot him if he moves,” replied Hunston, Shardler and Menzey carried Jack between them into the dark and gloomy cavern, tied his legs with a stout cord, and there left him. “This is a pleasant lookout,” said Jack to himself. ‘It’s Pisang over again. I wonder if I’m doomed to croak this time?” He was indeed in a desperate position, It was no joke to be in the power of such a villain as Hunston. \ CHAPTER XXXIV. IN THE THIEVES’ CAVE. A sticut reflection showed Jack that there was little chance ef his escaping from the Black Band, of which Hunston was the captain. If any of his members wished to show him mercy, they could not do so. He was in possession of their secret. The Oxford police would offer a large reward for information leading to the capture of » band of robbers who had already made then: . selves well known. Many country honses had been broken into yound about, and valuables to a large amount were carried off. Owing to such of the thieves as had been een by the terrified inmates wearing a dark- colored mask, they had acquired the name of the Black Band. A About ten o’clock, four men, armed with all the tools required by burglars, left the cave, and took the direction of Squire Western's —
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‘HARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND. house, which they had resolved ‘to rob that | ‘“That is more than you can tell.” night. . Jack heard thern go, and guessing their er- | rand, longed for ‘iberty, if only to put the squire on his guard. He fell into a sort of dog-sleep at last, from which he was roused by the sound of voices. The robbers had evidently returned from their expedition, “Where is Red-Handed Dick?” he heard Hunston inquire, ‘Shot through the heart, captain,” replied the man called Menzey. ‘“You are sure he is dead?” “‘T fired my own pistol through his head to make sure of him,” replied the ruffian, with a grim smile. ‘That's right. We make ita rule to leave no wounded behind, so that only a corpse should fall into the hands of the police; and corpses tell nothing. “What plunder have you brought off ?” ve Only & lady’s jewel case; the plate was too heavy, and there was a strong resistance. All the household turned out with guns, when the infernal dogs barked and blew the gaff on us,” replied Menzey. “Yes,” remarked Shardler ; ‘‘if any of them had been cool enough to shoot, we shouldn’t be here now.” ‘Poor Dick,” said Hunston. ‘‘He was the prince of villains. Icould have wished him a better end. Fall to, my lads; your supper is on the table, and you have earned it.” ‘Won't you join us, captain ?” ‘‘Not now ; I’m going to speak to the prison- er,” replied Hnnston. A cold ham and half-e-dozen fowls, well roasted and stuffed with sausages, flanked with good wheaten bread and a flagon of ale drawn from a cask which stood in a corner, invited the attention of the Black Band. This good fare was the result of the rob- bery of the farm house the night. before. Taking up a lamp, Hunston sought Jack. Setting the lamp down upon the ledge, so as to throw the light full upon Harkaway’s face, while his own remained in the shadow, he stood with his arms folded and looked upon his prostrate enemy. : A smile of cold-blooded triumph, such as Jack often seen before onthe same lips, stole oyer Hunston’s face. ; The face was altered, strangely altered of late. Young though he was, evil passions had set their marks and lines uponits rugged exterior, and a life of dissipation and unbridled excess, _ had stamped him as a slave of vice. If the face is, as Lavater says, an index or reflex of the mind, then Hunston bore his character as plainly branded on him as was Cain’s. 3 | ‘Fate seems to be against you, Harkaway,” he said, , “‘ Why ?” asked Jack, dryly. «Because you were thrown into my hands in a most unexpected manner. This is a pleasure I did not dream of.” “ Pleasure to see me?” repeated Jack, ‘“‘Of course it is, under the circumstances. ‘You are in my power once more. _ I was only waiting for this opportunity. It has come sooner than I expected, though I knew it must arrive at an early date.” ‘How so?” “Through Kemp, He meant to accuse you of the robbery of the bank, and when you were convicted of the charge by the porter’s evidence and sent to prison, all would be over. Kemp would have avenged poor Davis’s death, and I should have wiped off old scores. ‘‘But,” added Hunston, reflectively, ‘‘It is better thus, You shall die out of the way, and no one shall know what has become of you.” Jack was silent, though his eyes burned with an unnatural luster, and his parched lips quivered. “T forgot one thing,” continued Hunston. “Emily shall know that you are dead, so that she may grieve for you.” “Emily will never be yours,” said Jack, goaded to desperation. ‘*We love one another too well,” answered Jack, ‘‘for one ever to forget the other. She may pine away and die.” ; “Or go mad,” suggested Hunston, who seemed to wish to heap every conceivable tor- ture upon the head of his enemy. “That is not impossible; but she will never forget me.” ‘My good fellow,” said Hunston, carelessly lighting a cigar, which was one of the best money:could buy in Oxford, ‘‘you are a mere child. What is love?” ‘The purest passion which can animate the human heart.” “Not at all. Do you believe a woman when she says she loves you?” asked Hunston. ‘*T believe Emily,” continued Jack. ‘For my. ea if &# woman says she loves me, I fancy she had not dined the day before,” said Hunston with a coarse laugh. ‘‘ Love is sentimental nonsense; it is an art, a science if you like, and women are its professors.” ‘¢You may sneer as long as you like,” said Jack. ‘‘It is fellows like you that laugh at everything good and holy.” ‘*Say your prayers if you want to talk,” re- plied Hunston, impatiently, ‘‘ But don’t argue with me, or I will have to kick you on the head to keep you quiet.” ‘*You are coward enough for that,” retorted Jack boldly. *“Coward!. Why am I a coward?” ‘Ask yourself. Were you not a coward to try to stab me in the [ffley Road. Was it brave to kill the poor Jew! Was it honest to rob the bank ?” ‘‘Who can prove that I did any of these things ?”” ’ “*T am sure of it.” ‘*You?” cried Hunston, contemptuously. ‘* Your word is not worth a button. I would not give a brass farthing for your oath. Say your prayers, I tell you.” ‘‘T have said them,” answered Jack, mildly. ‘¢ When ?” ‘‘While I was lying here, and I am not ashamed to, own it.” “Do you think they are answered ?” ‘‘Not yet,"or I should be out of your power. But I can wait,” said Jack. ‘“ Wait!” repeated Hunston, with a blas- phemous oath. ‘‘ Well, yes, you may have to wait, Heaven isa long way off, you see, and you can’t always expect an answer to return of post.” Jack shuddered. ; Hunston’s impiety was awful, and his reck- lessness shocked him immensely. “There is not much difficulty in telling where you will go,” he’ said. ‘Where is that ?” asked Hunston. “To the devil’s kingdom,” replied Jack. “Perhaps,” said Hunston, carelessly. ‘I | hayé been told before that I am going there by an express train; but it doesn’t matter, Ive got a return ticket.’’ “ When you aré in the midst of flames and ——” began Jack. ‘Stop preaching, you fool,” almost scream- ed Hunston, as if he realized the picture Jack: was trying to raise before his eyes, ‘‘ Listen tome, I’m not ass enough to goin for cant- ing humbug, if youare, Talk of yourself and leave me alone. Tve gota jolly sight longer to live than you.” ‘¢ f'm not dead yet,” said Jack. “Do you know how long you've got to live?” said Hunston, with a searching glance, ‘An hour?” asked Jack, affecting a smile, which was far from being genuine. ‘‘Longer than that. How long do you think you could live without food or water?” “Perhaps eight-and-forty hours,” ‘Men have been known to live nine days, enduring horrible sufferings, for the want of anything to eat or drink,” exclaimed Hunston, *‘T doubt it,” said Jack. ‘You will haye an opportunity of judging in your own person before long,” continued Hunston, st oc I Yl Pu 1 “Yes, you, my boy. 1 could kill you out. right, but I want you to die a lingering and horrible death, because I hate you go.” ” re After looking at his prisoner a minute, Hun. ston continued : ‘Look at my armless shoulder, Who shot off my arm ?” ‘‘Tt was done in self-defense.” ‘Look at what you have made me.” ‘You cannot blame me. - I have offered to start you in life,” said Jack; ‘‘ but you prefer a vagabond existence.” “Do I? Take that for your insolence,” cried Hunston, ‘He brutally kicked Jack in the mouth, as he lay bound on the floor, and covered his face with blood. ; ‘ Coward !” exclaimed Jack, all his old spirit arising within him. “I defy you. Kill me by inches, if you like—cut me. to pieces—I will show you how 4 brave man can die and shame a coward.” ‘ “‘We shall see,” answered Hunston. : Turning to the cavity which answered the purpose of a doorway from one soom to the other, he exclaimed : ‘¢ Rinzeymer !” Menzey, half drunk as he was, responded to his call, ‘*Tdder ouyer alker aptainker ?” he said, “Esyer.”” “ Atwher oder ouyer antwer?” ; ‘‘Etger ricksber audker ortarmer oter utsher ether risonerper inker isther aultver orfer eyer- er.”” Menzey started in amazement at this order. _ ‘‘Etler itker eber oneder patker oncekler On’tder oseler aker omentmer,” continued Hunston, Menzey bowed in token of obedience, and went away. ’ “T shall see you once more, and then we part forever,” exclaimed Hunston. Jack made no answer. : Hunston took the lamp, and joined his mem in the other cave, leaving Jack alone in the dark. * No wonder that Jack’s soul sank within him. He had only too well understood the com. mand Hunston had given to his lieutenant, Menzey. This is what he said: “Get bricks and mortarto shut the prisoner in this vault forever.” And then he added ; * Tet it be done at once. ment.” a Now Jack knew what he meant by a linger- ing death by starvation. Don’t lose a mo- a Hunston intended to brick up the entrance — to the inner cavern in the sandstone. This would make Harkaway a close prisoner; without any hope of escape, and he would die in the cruelest manner that the mind of man could conceive. hideous dream. Only a short. time before he had been en-_ joyinghimself with O’Rafferty at Squire West- ern’s, { : If he had been in the Malay Archipelago, he would have expected some atrocious treatment, but\in England, not many miles from the thing was incredible. Difficult to believe as it was, Jack ot shirk the truth. Itseemed that if any assistance came te him, it must be something more than hu , CHAPTER , XXXY. O’RAFFERTY WAKES UP, Tr was quite late when O’Rafferty woke up, wondering very much where he was. . His head ached, and so'did his limbs, from. the cold, which was severe and penetrating, ; A few moment's reflection brought all that had happened back to his mind, and he recol- lected hee he had drunk too much champagne, lost his way with Jack and to wind matters up, fallen down the side of the sand pit. Shutting his eyes he tried to fancy it was alla —
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HIARKAWAY AND THE BLACK BAND, a .; ‘If there was @ way in, pretty” be Rai to Magee = e By the aid of the’moon, he climbed the side, ands on. level ground again. 3 '-‘Yhinkitig Jack had given him up, and gone ., on his way without him, he resolved to try and find the road. . ‘This he was fortunate enough to do, and an hour’s walking brought him to a second-rate inn, the door of which was open. “Here's luck,” he cried, - ‘‘I shall go no further to-night.” _ Mrs. O'Leary, a widow, kept the inn, and was a chatty little body, not much on the wrong side of forty, and an Irishwoman, as her name signified. O’Rafferty, as usual, had played her a few tricks, and she remembered him well as the young gentleman who was up to him ‘‘fun and ) divilment,” as he expressed it. ; ". ‘*Ah, me dear Mrs. O'Leary!” he cried, as . entered the little bar parlor in which she as sitting. ‘‘It’s meself thut’s a lucky boy this night.” ™ “And what will yez been wanting at this time of night ina respectable house, Misther . O'Rafferty?” replied the widow. “Shure and it’s the bite and the sup which you won’t refuse to a poor belated counthry- man; that wouldn’t be thrue to your swate nature, aroon.”. ' ‘As for the pigeon-pie and the beer, you're ~ as welcome ‘as the flowers in May,” answered the landlady. é ‘*Tt’s all I want, save a kiss, from those lips, which are more ravishing in their rich tints than those of Vanus herself,” said O’Rafferty, gallantly. ‘*Go along wid your nonsense | sup in the bar?” ““And where else would I sup? Is it lave your society you’d wish me to? ‘It’s hurtful to my failings, Mrs. O’Leary, to think of such a, _ thing. Order in the dove tart, and I’ll show you where an Irishman’s appetite lies.” “Tt’s ould ale your honor drinks ?” ‘It’s the same, Mrs. O’ Leary.” So he continued chatting, much to the widow's delight, who liked his compliments, and was pleased at the same time to see a countryman, “ This is what Icall taking mine ease at mine inn, he-cried. ‘‘It wants but a little potheen, me dear. Don’t put too much sugar in it, and don’t forget the lemon-peel.” ‘*Ye'll have to make haste Mr. O’Rafferty,” replied the widow. ‘‘It’s gone eleven by the church clock, and it’s time for all dacent peo- ple to be in bed.” _ -Mrs. O'Leary would listen to none of his ex- -cuses, so he had to retire. O'Rafferty slept well, and in the morning found that a dog-cart was waiting to convey him to Oxford, O’Rafferty jumped in, whipped up his horse, and in a short time reached Oxford, where he discharged the coachman, and hurriedly made his way to his rooms in Magdalen, CHAPTER XXXVI. THE CHIEF OF THE OXFORD POLICE. Will you ¢ im, asked: have you done with Harkaway ?” What do’you mean? Is he not at answered O’ Rafferty. o. I hear that you and he went to a ball ‘\ ther two days ago, and he has not bein hy or heard of since.” na I saw him last in a gravel-pit,” said O’Raf- ferty. ‘‘'This is serious.” __ Ina few words he related the adventure which _ had befallen them, and Sir Sydney exclaimed :, «Perhaps he has been robbed and murdered, Tknow he has enemies.” ‘Who ave they,?” ’ “One fellow is called Kemp; you know him, The otheris an old schoolfellow named Hun- ston, who has turned out very badly. Harvey there must be ajway | could te ie 4 fapeunat ; he is laid up.” *“Qh, yes. heard of that. ‘in my place ?” “T should go to th police. Perhaps Hun- ston has met Harkaway. Itis time this man Hunston was tracked by the authorities; there are grave suspicions about him,” While they were talking on Kemp came up. He had bought a wig and looked like himself again, and though guessing that he had been the victim of a trick at the hands of O’Rafferty, it did not appear to suit him to take any notice of it. “How do?” he exclaimed. ‘‘See anything of Harkaway?” + ‘*No,” replied .O’Rafferty, ‘Perhaps you know. more about him than I do; He is missing.” ‘* Where did you leave him ?” asked Kemp. “Ina pit where thev had been digging sand or gravel or something. Kemp started. A-visible pallor spread itself all over his face. *‘Oh!” he exclaimed, recovering himself. ‘He will turn up all right. He has lost his “ed that is all. I shouldn’t bother about im, Harvey is at the Jew’s house! I What would you do if you were the. staircase “On the contrary, I shall bother,” said |B O’Rafferty. “Tn what way ?” ‘« That’s me own business, me boy.” “Do you. mean to go to the police? I wouldn’t if I were you. Whatcan they do? Wait a day or two,” said Kemp, in a per- suasive voice. “J think Mr. Kemp is quite right; don’t do anything for a day or two,” exclaimed Sir Sydney. : At the same time the baronet pressed the Trishman’s elbow in a significant manner. “Very well,” replied O’Rafferty, taking the hint. ‘We will let the matter rest. What do you say to a stroll 2” ‘Which has for its object ?” ‘‘ Beer,” said O’Rafferty, laughing. “¢ Fife is not all beer and skittles,’ as some one observed; but that is no reason why we shouldn’t imbibe malt liquor on an occasion. Good-morning, Mr. Kemp.” Sir Sydney and O’Rafferty walked away, and as soon as they were out of ear-shot of Kemp, the former said : “Let us go straight to the police station; I am convinced there is something wrong.” ) 4 Why 2?” «Did you not see Kemp turn pale when you mentioned the sand-pit ?” “Yes.” “ And it could not have escaped you that he was extremely anxious that we should not say anything to the police about Harkaway’s mys- terious disappearance.” ; ‘‘Be jabers, youre right,” exclaimed O’Raf- forty. ‘‘It’s as plain as the cave of Fingal.” They, walked at once to the police station, where they found Mr. Manisty, chief of Oxford police, ; i He was a very intelligent officer and received them courteously. — O’Rafferty told his story, and added that he ,| Should not have thought so Mauch of Harka- way’s absence had he not heard that he had enemies within and without the university. “T am perfectly well aware of the fact,” answered the chief. ‘« Indeed 1” “Oh, yes. There are few things that hap- pen at Oxford or in the country in which I do not interest myself personally.” “What do you suspect ?” asked O’Rafferty. “That is my business, sir,” replied Manisty, “‘Eixcuse my abruptness, but I have made it arule always to ask questions, and never to answer them if I can help it. ‘That is my idea of detective science.” i {Do you ‘know Hunston?” asked Sir Sydney. { ‘‘T should be very glad to put my hand on him at this moment,” answered the chief of ou more about him than I, but un-! police. ‘*I have been poe - _ |in mi pied for some time n making a chain of evidence, Whether it will ever come to, anything time will show; and now, sir, may I ask you a question or two. : ree ‘‘Fire away, me boy,” answered O’Rafferty. ‘‘When you were near the sand-pit, the locality of which I know pretty well, did you remark anything?” he Yes.” ‘What was it ?” ‘*Harkaway said that he saw a lantern moy- By Jove! I had nearly « That’s ing about in the pit. forgotten that.” “He saw a lantern !"’said Manisty. quite enough for me, sir.” ‘“¢ What do you mean ?” ‘Simply that I will. give you some news of ‘Mr. Harkaway before this time to-morrow; but whether-he is dead or alive depends on the merey of Providence.” ; ‘*You alarm me,” replied O’Rafferty. ‘‘T don’t mind breaking through my rule of silence for once,” continued the chief of police, “because you and Sir Sydney Dawson are friends of Mr. Harkaway, who is a gentleman the university is properly proud of.” ‘Well 2” said Sir Sydney, anxiously. ‘‘Hunston is, as I suspect, the captain of a gang of robbers, who are called the Black and. “ All this winter they have been the terror of the country, breaking into houses and rob- bing travelers along the roads.” “Ts such a thing possible?” “Tt is a fact, and has cast a serious reproack on the Oxford police ; but sc elever is this man Hunston that we have not been able to capture the band, or find out where they hide.” i ‘Are you any nearer a discovery than you were before ?” “‘ Qertainly I am.” ‘What has given you a clew ?” “Tn the first place, Mr. Harkaway’s disap- , pearance led me to suspect that Hunston had a hand in it, and your remark about a lantern in the sand-pit induces me to think Ican find the robber’s haunt.” ° ‘Tn the sand-pit ?” said O’Rafferty. ‘Exactly, Ihave played in that sand-pit when a boy, and its walls are full of very re- markable caves,” replied Manisty. ‘‘How TI {did not think of it before, I cannot imagine. Leave it allto me, gentlemen, and I will do my best.” ‘Will it not be ae ae to attack the rob- bers in their den?” asked Sir Sydney Dawson. ‘‘ We shall go in force, and well armed.” | «Will you do me a favor 2” . ‘(Name it, sir; if it is in my power, I will gladly do so,” answered the chief of the police, politely. ‘Allow me to accompany you. I am not {afraid of fighting the ruffians, and I have such ‘a regard for Harkaway that I should like to join in the hunt.” ‘* By the powers!” exclaimed O’Rafferty, ‘*ve musn’t leave me out.” “Gentlemen,” said the chief, ‘‘I am very sorry indeed to be obliged to refuse your re- quest, but I cannot grant it.” ‘¢-Well,” replied Sir Sydney, rising, I sup- pose you know best. Good-afternoon, Mr. Manisty ; many thanks for your obliging be- havior.” I ; ? “T am only doing my duty, sir,” replied the chief of the police, politely opening the door for his visitors to depart. Both O’Rafferty and Dawson were well satis- fied with the result of their interview and re- turned to the college, hoping that they had done all they could for Harkaway’s benefit. That evening, after hall, Kemp left St. Al- date’s, and taking the Iffey road, walked at a rapid pace into the country. He appeared to try and escape observation, and\ was hurried and nervous in his manner. The continuation of the adyentures of our - hero will be found inthe ‘sequel entitled, ‘‘Harkaway and the Brigands” which is for sale by all newsdealers, price . .r—
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