The Leisure hour; an illustrated magazine for home reading
Miller, William Haig, 1812-1891 | Macaulay, James, 1817-1902 | Stevens, William
K— Q4, Kt— K7+ K— K3 Kt— Q 4. KtxR KKt— Q4+ K~Q4 Kt— B 3. KxKt Kt— Q4 K— K5 Q— B 3, et<J. No. 2, Kt— Q6. IfKtxP QxP R— Q5 Kt-B3. K— K4 Kt— B3 Q— Kt4. K— B 6 KKt X P K— Q 6 Q— K 3, etc. The prizes, Five Shillins:s each, go to— P. L. OsBORN, 152 Elgin Avenue, W., Rev. Roger J. Wright, Worthing, and J. D. Tuokbr, 2 Yew Bank Terrace, Ilkley, — whose solutions all arrived by the same post. That most versatile and indefatigable of pro- blemists, Mrs. W. J. Baird, has now turned her attention to problems of the retractor type. Several have appeared in The Times' and other chess columns, and we are glad to have secured one, composed expressly for Our Chess Page. Here it is: — *^ Tweviieth- Century RUractor" By Mrs. W. J. Baird. "Lead your battle softly on Upon the left hand of the even field." Juliu* CVp«ar, Act V. Sc. i, BLACK — 3 MEN WHITE — 3 MEN 1. White played last but must retract his move. 2. Black to retract his last move. 3. Black to play so as to allow 4. White to give mate. N.B. — No Queens allowed. 86 A prize-winner in our last Tourney : — 1st Prize. LilipiUian, BLACK — 9 MEN WHITE— 8 MEN White to mate in two moves. For the Medal Competition solutions to both these problems must be sent in before January 15, 1904. 50UV1N0 TOURNEY. Examiners' Award Special Prize, One Guinea: — Rev. Roger J. Wright, Worthing. First Prizes, Fifteen Shillins:s each :— Frank W. Atchinson, Victoria Street, Billing- hay, Lines. H. Balson, 262 Normanton Road, Derby. James Moore Crebbin, 20 Clifton Rood, Aniield, Liverpool. Second Prizes, Ei^ht Shilling's each : — Emma M. Davey, 22 Apsley Road, Clifton, Bristol. H. HosEY Davis, 143 Sefton Park Road, Bristol. Col. Forbes, 13 Pittville Lawn, Chelten- ham. H. Osboune, M.D., 90 Orlando Street, Bolton. P. L. Osborn, 152 Elgin Avenue, W. Basil Spoon er, 2 Ibrox Terrace, Ibroxholm, Glasgow. R. G. Thomson, 3 Sunnybank Road, Aberdeen. Third Prize, Five Shillingrs:— F. W. Wynne, Holly Hall, Dudley. The following also solved all the problems but failed to comply with the rules. Jas. Cuadwick and (J. L. Slater; while James Bland's only fault was the discovery of an imaginary cook in problem No. 10. The following solved seventeen correctly : — Arthur J. Head, J. D. Tucker, and A. Watson. The following solved sixteen : — W. B. Muir and E. Thompstone. We have no space to give names of competitors who solved less than sixteen problems. Report. It would be difficult to imagine more perfect solutions than those sent by tlie winner of the special prize, while those of the first-prize winners were only a shade less admirable. But for the claims of several others whose work was too ex- haustive to be imrewarded, these prizes would have been far more substantial. But chess playei's solve and play more for honour than for reward. Our Chess Page and we are satisfied that we have done the right thing in giving numerous rather than large prizes. The solutions in the third division were very good indeed, and but for the fact that they had to com- pete with practically perfect specimens of the Art, they would likely have been in the front rank. The most difficult problem seems to have been DidnH I say so. No. 17, though a few competitors also failed to solve the two-mover Asia; a somewhat extraordinary circumstance. The near try in Look Out — B — Kt 6 — entrapped more than one expert, but Black's reply of B— Kt 7 followed by B— B 8 surely crushes the attack. It was to tliis try that the motto of the problem was directed. The solvers as a rule did not indulge in criticism. What little there M'as ran on the lines of com- mendation, of which a large share was bestowed upon the problem Tyr, to which an extra prize was awarded by the Tourney Judges. We hope our next Solving Tourney will be as successful as the one now closed. Short Solviflg Competition (August) Award. Nearly all the competitors pointed out that the problem Rough and Heady was an impossible posi- tion, but it was, nevertheless, capable of solution. Prizes of Five Shillings each go to— H. Hoset Davis, 143 Sefton Park Road, Bristol. P. L. OsBORN, 152 Elgin Avenue, London, W. No other competitor sent in all five solutions. All communications to be addrusBod to the Editor, "The Leisure Hour," 4, Bpuverie Street, London, B.C., ana to be marked CHESS on the envelope. Competition entries mutt be aeeompanied by the Bi»tedd/od Ticket from the Contente page. tCbe Xeisure Ibour fiistebbfob Twenty Pounds in Prizes ESSAYS 1. Essay on ** Free Trade i?. PROTEcmoN." First Prize, One Guinea; Second Prize, Half-a-Gulnea. 2. {For teachers, either in Day or Sunday School. ) Essay on "How Parents might help Teachers." First Prize, French Pictures, 25s. ; Second Prize, Rambles in Japan, 10«. 6d. 3. [Fcrr boys and girls under 16.) Essay on " My Favourite Game.'* First Prize, Driftwood, A Story, 5«.; Two Second Prizes, Fcdry Tales from Far Japan, 2s. 6d. ART 4. The Best Original Black - and - White Drawing. [The drawing to be a portrait or a figure from life. The prize drawings to be the property of The Leisure Hour.] First Prize, Three Guineas; Second Prize, Two Guineas. MUSIC 5. Best Music for the Poem, "The Laddie I Love," which appears on page 88 of this number. Prize, Two Guineas. NEEDLEWORK 6. (A) Best Bed- Jacket for Invalid. First Prize, Italian Pictures, 30*.; Second Prize, Victoria, R.I., 10«. Qd. (B) Best Knitted Muffler. First Prize, Pictures from Holland, 25.*.; Second Prize, Pictures of Southern China, 108. 6rf. (C) Best Pair Cuffs or Mittens, Knitted OR Crochet, any Size, with or without Thumb-holes. First Prize, In Scripture Lands, 15«. ; Second Prize, Driftwood, A Story, 5s. X.B.—All articles sent in this department will be given to workers in the poorest districts of London, lor distribution among the deserving poor. In no *w« will arty article he returned. POSTCARDS 7. Best postcard on '*My Favourite New Book," with reasons for the choice. First Prize, a 5$. book ; Two Second Prizes, a Zs. 6(2. book each. PHOTOQRAPHS 8. Best Photograph of Domestic Scene (either indoor or outdoor). First Prize, Half-a-Guinea ; Two Second Prizes, Flve Shillings each. COLONIAL SECTION 9. Essay on "Free Trade v. Protection." First Prize, One Guinea; Second Prize, Half-a-Guinea. 10. {For hoys and girls under 16.) Essay on " My Favourite Game." First Prize, a 6s. book ; Two Second Prizes, a 2s. 6^. book each. 11. Postcard on "My Favourite Preacher," with reasons for the choice. First Prize, a Zs. 6rf. book ; Second Prize, a 2s. 6d book. Colonial Essays, etc., to be received not later than February 25, 1904. RULES 1. Our readers may compete for as many of the prizes as they please, but not more than one prize will be awarded to one competitor. Prize-winners of last twelve months ineligible in the same depart- ment this year. 2. Every competitor, except those in the Post- card Competitions, must cut out the Eisteddfod Ticket given on Contents page of advertisements, fill in the number of the competition, and fasten the ticket to the outside, of tlie envelope containing competition. 3. A separate Ticket will be required for each competition. No other matter must be included. 4. Essays must be on foolscap, one side only, and must not occupy more than four of such pages. 5. For the Postcard Competition the latest date is November 5, 1903 ; for Essays, Decembers ; Art, Needlevjork, Music and Photograph, December 17. 6. All competitions must be addressed to the Editor of Tfie Leisure Hour, 4, Bouverie Street, London, E.c. 7. No Essay or other contribution unit he rettimed, even if stamps are sent. 87 The Laddie 1 Love I LOVE a little laddie who is busy all the day Deciding hie profeesion when he's grown too big for play: He's almost five years old, you know, there's not much time " Grown -Upa" can do bo many things, it'B quite a task to choose! A gallant British soldier, or a sailor taut and trim, — A milkman, or a pastry-cook — they're all the same to him; Hell diTTS you in a hansom if you wish to go to town, Or be the King of England in a gilded cardboard crown 1 Oh ! Colonel of a Regiment I Captain of a Ship I Postman, Porter, Organ-man, * sailor taut Cabby with bis whip I Whaterer you may call him, wherever he may be — He's just the little lad I love, and that is all, to me ! Perhaps you wish to travel ? There's the Scotch Express at nine, — The guard will blow his whistle, and will signal, " Clear the line ! ' Or if your head is aching he will say " you're very ill,'' And feel your pulse, and cure you with a bread -and -sugar pill. And when it's time to go to bed, this little lad I love Will coax you for a story ere the stars shine out above; Hell put his arms around you, aud he'll smile and kiss " Good- night," Then "make-believe" in Dream- land till once more ifs morn- ing light : Oh 1 Colonel of a Begiment I Captain of a Ship .' Postman, Porter, Organ -man. Cabby with his whip ! Wherever he may wander, what- ever he may be — He's just the little lad I love, and that is all, to me ! rraT-coos mart fabhah, LL.A. t- % In All Time of Our Wealth BY C. E. C. WEIOALL »» €t it AUTHOR OF "THE TEMPTATION OF DULCE CABBUTHBRS," "GUNNER JACK AND UNOLE JOHN," ETC. CHAPTER IV **The feet of the men that driir* HEBE was a dim plan floating in Stephen Hellard's mind that was gradually taking definite shape, which was, that he would go abroad at once until he got more accustomed to his wealth. There is such a thing as being vulgarly rich, and he was terribly afraid of falling into that snare, and so utterly destroying his chance of success as a man of position'. He did not care for the thought of travel- ling alone, but he knew enough to be con- vinced that he had but to set his foot on board a P. and 0. boat bound for India, and make bis fortune known, to win half a himdred friends only too anxious to force their claims to society upon his attention, and he finally decided that this would be the wisest course to pursue. But first he had to go down to Ditcham Barracks, where the 120th Battery of Eoyal Artillery was quartered, to see his brother again ; and now that he was able to travel about without any trouble of narrow means, his natural affection led him to long to see his nearest relative once again. He wrote to his brother, telling him to expect him on the following day, and travelled down by the express along one of the most beautiful stretches of line in England. Ditcham was an artillery dep6t on a limited scale, a small grey town with a view of sea and sky unsurpassed by any famed Italian scenery. It was backed by a long slope of down and hill, wooded to the summit of every spur, and crowned by yellow Hues of gorse and bracken, that waved like fires against the western sky, so that in the evening, when the stain of the sunset changed the purple clouds to orange and from orange to pale primrose, the horizon swam in a breathless silver haze of light — 80 that a man could not tell where the waving gorse ceased and heaven began. Ditcham lay in a little hollow of the hills, and the only new part about the town was the flaring walls of the dep6t barracks. A far-sighted Town Council had tempted the battery to Ditcham, instead of leaving it to be secured by some town of greater importance on the map, through many promises of rifle-ranges and improved sanitation, and it must be confessed that the Town Council had gallantly stuck to their colours. The presence of the military meant the increase of trade, and when the flaring red-brick walls made the slope of the downs less beautiful, the shop-people looked at the ration bills and declared their intention of planting surreptitious canariensis in the dead of night. When HeUard left the little station, gay with advertisements of soaps and baking powders, he wandered up the main street, wishing that Ditcham had boasted of more than two cabs, and that the military, as represented by six gunners in blue and scarlet uniform, who were singing " Eule, Britannia," at the top of uncertain voices, had not secured the vehicles before he had time to collect his scattered wits. But his walk allowed him time for re- flection, and there was Uttle to distract him in the old curiosity shop, full of toby jugs and spotted china dogs that seemed to be the staple trading commodity of Ditcham. There were a few gunners drifting up the road, and half-a-dozen children with market baskets or bundles of washing in their arms. There were two carriers' carts and as many old women, and a little knot of business men, who stood and talked outside the branch bank with its wire blinds. A church bell tanged cheerfully, and a clock from the little town hall sent forth a chime of lingering beauty that redeemed the Philistinism of the red-brick tower. Hellard turned in under the iron arch- way of the barrack-gate, and stood for a moment watching the sunlight play upon the barrack-square, dappling it in sheeted shadows. There was a sentry marching up and down, to and fro under the pent- house roof of the guard-room, but he appeared to be so deeply intent on his mono- tonous work that Hellard passed him by and 91 In All Time of Our Wealth sought information of a cheerful gunner in a straw hat and white apron, who was doing " cook's mate," and carrying a very large can of hoiled, sweetened tea across to one of the barrack-rooms from the cookhouse. The sentry made Hellard nervous, for he had an idea that he might challenge him unexpectedly, for he remembered as a child paying a visit to an uncle in a marching regiment in Dover, and the darkness of the night when they emerged from the bril- liantly-lighted quarters had impressed itself upon his mind, together with the clear " Who goes there ? " the clatter of dropped carbine ringing out upon the frosty air, and the grufif answer of "Friend." He could hear in his mind the " Pass, friend ; all's well," even now as he walked hurriedly forward. Like a clarion call it had rung in his ear with something invigorating about it, and he wondered now, half whim- sically, if the challenging sentry could have declared that with him all was well. " Will you tell me how I can find Ser- geant William Hellard ? " he said hastily. The man set down the can of tea and scratched his head meditatively, for here was a swell who was asking for " Gentleman Hellard," though there was nothing the least soldierly about his bearing, and he wondered if there was any truth in the story of the sergeant's gentility. " Yes, sir," he answered at last. " I will take you to his bunk, sir. I am going past it." He waxed confidential as they departed together, the tea swishing in the can, for he scented a shilling, and at that moment the sum meant a good deal to him. It was a good step across the sunbright square, and Hellard, answering Gunner Jelf's words mechanically, was absorbing every detail of the buildings as they passed. Ditcham Barracks were built in a square, the second and third sides formed by the married quarter block and the barrack- rooms, the first by the officers' mess and quarters, and the fourth by the guard-room and gate, and although the staring red walls were not beautiful, yet they bore the impress of solid comfort on every brick and angle of masonry. "'E's a good sergint is 'Gentleman 'Ellard,' as we call 'im, sir." Jelf was babbling on like the proverbial brook, and Stephen knew that he had touched on a subject that embraced a wide sphere, from daily rations to politics. 92 " Every man expects 'e'U be promoted to sergint-major when old Wherry gets the order of the boot. 'E's done a deal for the company, and bein' a bacheldore is more with the men, as one may say ; and as for cricket, why you can't touch 'im at that, and few on us can get hold of his balls. That's why they call our battery 'The boundaries,' not from any disrespect to our manners, but 'cause we're s'posed never to hit anything less than a sixer ! " Cricket ! Hellard smiled whimsically as he remembered where Bill had learnt his game. He remembered the playing fields of Eton now, with the sun upon the river, and the happy boys about them under the trees. The rhythm of the old boating song was in his ears, and he wondered whether any other Etonians had gone under as he and Bill had done, with such dire com- pleteness. He slipped a half-sovereign into Jelf's hand, and without waiting to see the stupendous effect that so large a sum had upon the stolid gunner, he pushed the door of the barrack-room open and paused at the top of the steps. Fourteen iron bed- cots were carefully packed away, and their brown blankets folded precisely on the pillows. Not a soul was in the room, and he could survey the whitewashed walls at his leisure, where pictures cut from illustrated papers hung, and Christmas cards of the highly-coloured cheap description jostled a decorative calendar of some years earlier. He looked round in vain for some sign of William, till at last his eyes fell upon a half-open door in the wall, through which a figure could be dimly discerned, which he gathered must be his brother. He steadied himself against the wall, and softly whistled the first bars of the Eton boating song, that sounded like a clear call out of the shadowy past in his ears. Sergeant Hellard, seated upon his bed- cot pipeclaying his belt, heard it and raised his head sharply. There were many ghosts to haunt him, and the song roused each one in turn, till the coarse serge of his uniform seemed lifted away from him, and the circumscribed life that he had led shrivelled up like a dream, letting in a vista of grey college walls and black-coated boys, and the long study talks at night over the fire — the endless wonder as to the future that is in the heart of every child of man. His own future had seemed to be a very bright one, he remembered, — with a rosy halo about a grown-up Bill Hellard, who In All Time of Our Wealth would win the V.C. and be a second "Bobs." What a mockery such thoughts were to hun now — ^how unutterably dreary his coarse serge uniform and bounded hfe seemed in the light of those old days. Why, if he had thought at Eton — he, the popular open-handed Bill Hellard — that he would end his days as a sergeant in a service battery, he verily believed that he would have laid down and died. The song ceased, and with it the stout heart of the sergeant revived, and he opened the door. "HeUo, Steve,** he said. "I guessed it was you when I heard the old chanty — why, it's years since we met.** Stephen looked at his brother through a mist of tears. Bill was a fine-looking, broad-shouldered fellow, tanned by Indian suns, honourably scarred by the slash of a tulwar on the North-West frontier, that had abnost spoiled his beauty. But he was changed irretrievably, for a man cannot go through the coarsening hfe of barrack-room associations and remain as Nature first framed him. " Come in,** he said, pulling his brother into the bunk, that seemed a tight fit for one person, besides the bed and his kit-box. It was a little cupboard of a place, with a window looking out over the parade ground, but there was a framed photograph of Parkstone on the wall, and another of their mother. " Bill,*' he said, in a voice thrilhng with emotion, " ah ! what has life been for us, since those days ? '* The sergeant braced himself up. " Life*s all right,*' he said. " The only fault is putting square people into round holes. I suffered a bit at first, but I*m as happy now as a sand-martin in a quarry.** "You can't be," said Stephen, hoarsely, " with these associations — these men ? " He looked down at his brother's rough brown hands — at his heavy regulation boots ■—at the meagre outHne of the box that held all his worldly goods. " What's wrong with them ? '* said the sergeant sturdily. " I've made my bed and I'll lie on it, Stephen, my boy. I shall rise to be quartermaster yet." " I have come to-day to offer to buy you out. Bill," went on Stephen hurriedly. " I have come into a great deal of money in a very extraordinary way — and I can give you a sum big enough to take you clear away and start you in business." The sergeant's eyes. wandered over the spruce and smart figure opposite, and an inscrutable smile passed over his face. Then he laid down his pipe and folded his hands across his knee. " I should like to hear just how you came into that bit of money,*' he said slowly. " Six years of soldiermg makes a man suspicious.** Stephen shifted his feet uneasily, and by bits began the narrative that placed his brother in possession of the main facts of his extraordinary accession to Mr. Button's million. The sergeant listened patiently to the end, no feature in his face changing, and no sign appearing in his stolid de- meanour to help his brother as to his view of the case. " Well, what do you think of it all ? " he stammered out at last ; "is it not the most wonderful piece of luck that ever fell to any man ? '* He handed old Hutton's letter to the soldier as he spoke, and before he answered. Bill read it through slowly and folded it up. " No blessing on the money — ill come by — conditions, to chuck your old friends — yes — a wonderful piece of good fortune, Stephen. But all the same, I'd rather earn my bread with my own hands.** " Oh, hut think what can be done with the money — think what it means.** " I*ve thought enough about it," returned the other. " Time was, when I first joined, that I would have given my very eyes for a decent competence to take me away from a life that was purgatory to me." He had sUpped out of his new way of speech, and had become in the fervid passion of his tones the young, high-spirited Bill Hellard of old days, when he was pausing to see the world between Eton and a future profession. " I was never clever, you know — would have had to enter the service by the back door as an officer — but when I found that it was my lot in life to be poor, I thanked God for two hands to work vdth, and woke up to the realities of life. It was kind of you to come and see me, Stephen, but are you not endangering your fortune by associating with me ? I am scarcely the equal of a millionaire." " I am allowed to see you once," said the other in a low voice. " Bill, I could make anything of you — give you enough for an assured income — let me help you." 93 In All Time of Our Wealth The sergeant held up his hands. " What am I fit for now ? Clerkly work with these fingers ? Literary work with no brains ? Why, I have found my vocation, and that is to drill recruity boys on the barrack-square, and to drum something like straight living into the heads of the men of my section. When I was a little lad there was something we used to say on Sundays about doing our duty in the place where we had been put — and I have tried to do mine." They were straight words, and for the moment Stephen was tempted to ask him- self whether he was doing his duty by placing himself in the way of temptation that he knew would be too strong for him, but a sudden feeling of irritation against his brother rising up within him, swept other thoughts aside, and he rose to his feet. "So I can't do anything, or, rather, you won't let me do what I would," he said. "No, thank you, Stephen. If it had been money you had earned yourself, I might have teiken it as a loan, but there's something in me that tells me this wouldn't be right." " Bill, for old times' sake," said the other imploringly, as he held out a bank-note that made the sergeant draw up his lips in a whistle of surprise. "Crikey, a hundred pounds! but no — thanks. There's little chance of spend- ing that here, and maybe the giving of it would break the conditions of the bequest." He looked his brother over from head to foot, and Hellard turned away, for he could not bear the expression of sarcastic admiration that lighted up his brother's face "Well, good-bye. Bill," he said; "I'm going abroad." " Good-bye, Stephen, and good luck to you," said the other cheerfully. " Though I'm of the opinion that you'd better cut both hands off at the wrists than touch a penny of this money." " That may be your opinion, but it is not mine," retorted Stephen hotly, as he strode away. He turned once to look back at his brother, but the busy figure bending over his work did not move again, and he passed out of the soldier's life with a feeling that he had neither part nor parcel any more 94 with the workers of life, for from hence- forward he must be a drone. He could not return to London that night, for there was no suitable train, and he therefore engaged a room at the little inn in the High Street, and ordered dinner. It was a fairly comfortable place within sight of the barracks, and Hellard, as he sat digesting his roast chicken and cabinet pudding, reviewed the events of the day with some indecision. It was a perfect evening of late spring, with a young moon, and in the half-Cght the slopes above the town looked unreal and shadowy, and the great gorse clumps like battalions of armed men. Somewhere away in the back region of the inn he could hear laughter and talk- ing, and the red-elbowed maid who removed his dinner things told him with a broad smile that it was half-a-dozen gunner N.G.O.'s having a supper party to commemorate the sergeant-major's birthday. He was so dull up in that lonely room that he set his door ajar to listen to the mirth and revelry, pride alone preventing him from going below to seek their society. Some man was singing a stave of a patriotic song in a rolling bass, and after the applause had died away, another voice of mellow tenor, like a golden flute, took up the refrain to a jingling accompaniment. It was only a simple ballad that he sang, but Stephen listened entranced : ^* Wrap me up in my old stable jacket, And say a poor buffer lies low, And six stalwart gunners shall carry me, With step solemn, mournful, and slow.*' Ah ! he was back again at home, a child once more, and his mother at the piano was singing in the twilight, with a pathQS in her voice that had often made him cry as a little boy. She had been so proud of Baby Bill's voice, so eager over his fresh notes like a thrush in the dawning. He could see her now bending over his curly head, as Bill in all the glory of a starched white frock faltered his nursery rhymes. What would she have said to see him now? There are times when one praises God for the blessed dead, and that night Stephen Hellard unconsciously gave God that thanks. By and by came the clear call of " Last Post " from the barrack-square, the bugle lingering over each shrill note, and the grey town echoing them back. And the singing ceasing, the road was gay In All Time of Our Wealth i\siUw-;'.'i^ with blue-coated soldiera going back to after a sleepless night, ehook the dust of bairack-room and duty, the past off bis feet, and departed for Early next morning, Stepben Hellard, London and bia new life. In All Time of Our Wealth CHAPTER V '* He seemed to lookers-on, like those who dreamed Of idleness in groves Elysian." IT was on the deck of the Channel steamer that Stephen Hellard first discovered the truth that sea-sickness is the greatest leveller where human nature is concerned. He went on board at Dover, accompanied by a valet, whom he had engaged at the instance of Mr. Frederick Kent, and who proved to be a most pro- ficient servant. There was nothing about either master or man to suggest the fact that they were nouveanx riches^ but from the attention paid to them by the officials, it was evident that sable-lined coat and Bussia leather trunks had done their work in impressing outsiders with a sense of the importance of their owner. There were several people crossing that afternoon, and when the gang-plank was uncoupled the bell rang from the shore, and the Victoria began to churn up foam with her paddles, and to push her nose seawards. Stephen looked round for a comfortable seat on deck, and felt profoundly thankful that he was a good sailor. The Channel was in its worst mood, grey and lumpy, with a strong head wind blow- ing, and the steamer climbed up each rolling hiUock of water, to sink down with a sickening thud on the other side. The white cliffs of England were scarcely out of sight when half the passengers re- tired below, and the greater part of the remainder lay helplessly back in their deck chairs, hoping for a shipwreck with every slide of the rolling boat. Hellard was rather amused from the pinnacle of his own immunity from mal de vier, for of all fell diseases, sea-sickness is the only one that excites no compassion in the breast of the onlooker. In the bows of the Victoria two or three people were sitting watching the receding coast-Hne, but as a sharp sputter of rain lashed the Channel in an instant into white foam, they moved further back under the awning, and Hellard recog- nised them as Lady Cicely Dare and her aunt Miss Hadow, elderly and plain, and accompanying them the ubiquitous Captain Beaumont. Lady Cicely's eyes fell upon the man in the deck chair, whose magnificent sable coat had been the outspoken admiration of half the passengers until they succumbed to a condition in which self-detestation is 96 the only possible feeling. She stared at him for an instant bewildered, then as their eyes met, her Society artificial train- ing stood her in good stead, and she advanced, holding out her hand. " Mr. Hellard, by all that is wonderful. Gracious, what years it is since we met last. What have you been doing with yourself?" Years ! It was less than a month that she had cut the shabby, out-at-elbows journalist hack outside the Law Courts, but he was her equal now, nay, her superior in the matter of fortune. " How do you do? " he answered, shak- ing hands quietly. " Five years is an age —or is it six ? " " It seems a weary time," said Lady Cicely softly, "but it is very nice to see you again. Now, let me introduce you to my aunt. Miss Hadow — oh, I forgot, though — you knew her before in the old days." Hellard bowed to Miss Hadow, remem- bering her as a stern, uncompromising chaperon, who had not considered a for- tune of £1600 a year good enough for her pretty niece, then a girl of eighteen. Lady- Cicely was older now, and still unmarried, and Miss Hadow smiled ingratiatingly upon the owner of a set of sables the like of which she had never seen. "What brings you here, travelling in this delightfully free-and-easy fashion?" said Lady Cicely, sitting down and beckon- ing Hellard to the next seat. " A mania for travel, I suppose — I mean to go to Paris for a bit, and then work my way to Brindisi or Marseilles, to catch a steamer and go on an indefinite voyage somewhere or other — India perhaps." "How dull," said the girl, giving him one of her old glances that he so well remembered, and that in the old days would have summoned the very heart from his body. She was handsome enough still, though the wear and tear of six unsatis- factory seasons had left their mark upon her face, and no one but her maid knew the secret of her exquisite complexion, or from whence came the bronze shadows in her hair. She was well dressed, for she had always possessed the peculiarly femi- nine charm of tact in what she wore, and the material and colouring of her grey gown that day were very gratifying to Stephen's artistic taste. A line of blue fur round her throat, and a suggestion of rose-coloured lining to her coat, completed a costume In All Time of Our Wealth that looked very simple, but was in reality the outcome of Paquin's deepest thought. There was nothing uncompromisingly stiff and hard about her hat, but on her bright hair the grey felt was perched knowingly, and the plume of a gorgeous Indian bird crossed the brim and nestled on the bright auburn hair. She knew that she was look- ing her best, and, devoured with curiosity as she was to discover what had led to Hellard's re-instatement in Society, she determined to try her best to fascinate him once again, and bring him back to his allegiance. But Hellard, guessing all this — nay, seeing through every accent of the pretty artificial voice, yet allowed himself to be fascinated once again, telling himself that he was only working out the punish- ment he had all along intended to inflict for her heartlessness. It would have been impossible to have begun on this agreeable footing had she not ignored the fact of their last meeting, but since she appeared to be sublimely unconscious that she had seen him in his out-at-elbows career, he began to find it easy to weave stories as to the past six years that bore some faint semblaiice to the truth, albeit a very decorated truth. Lady Cicely gathered that he had some- how met with great reverses, and had lived in retirement for a time, away from his own kind — but that the death of some old relative had put him in possession of an enonnous fortune which he was doing his best to learn how to spend. Lady Cicely listened enthralled to his remarks, and then with numerous expressions of sym- pathy, she mentally registered a vow to get her maid to find out more as to his extraordinary story from Hellard's valet. "But since you have made no plans definitely as to India, why not come with us to Sicily for two or three weeks ? We are going to join Bobby Vandaleur's yacht, the Sea Nymph, at Syracuse later, but I know he will be glad to have you as well —and yachting in the Mediterranean is delicious in the early summer before those horrid Euroclydon storms begin." " I don't know about the yachting," de- murred Stephen, " but I should enjoy Sicily for a bit, and could take my chance of a steamer at Brindisi or Marseilles later on." " There is a very decent hotel at Taor- mina," went on L^y Cicely, "and after all, you know, that is half the battle. People talk about glorious mountains and Saracenic buildings, but if they had to exist on hard beef and black bread, they would not see much charm in the place. Now, some friends of ours wanted us to go up to Bronte last year, but when we made inquiries we found that there was the most appalling little hole of an inn — so I said the shades of Nelson might do their thundering alone. I preferred com- fort, and didn't care twopence about woods and mountains." Across Hellard's mind flashed the memory of the words: ** Sicily is the Smile of God." Once he had seen dawn flush on the green coast from the sea as he paced the deck of the mail boat from Alexandria, and he had never forgotten the tremulous gold that fell on chestnut grove and wooded cleft of the hills, touching at last the sombre head of the great volcano with its cap of white smoke. " I am afraid that where scenery comes in, a tablet of compressed meat would suit me admirably. I believe I thrive on light and air," he returned. " Don't believe Cissie," chimed in Miss Hadow nervously. " She always talks like that, but I, who know her best, have seen her in tears over " " You need not perjure yourself further," cried Cicely gaily. " We will take the tears for granted. Let us walk a little, Mr. Hellard. Aunt Letitia will be quite happy studying the sufferings of other people, and rejoicing that she is free from the curse of TJial de mer,'* Hellard rose with alacrity, admiring the way in which the girl trod the deck of the pitching steamer, and they walked briskly up and down for a few moments, talking fitfully of the events of the past six years, watching the stormy light upon the grey sea, and the flash of a gull's white wing as it dipped past the boat. The wind screamed in the rigging overhead as the breeze freshened, but Lady Cicely only laughed as the tendrils of her beautiful hair were ruffled round her forehead, and the air woke a brighter colour in her cheeks. She felt that it would be very easy to win her way back into this man's affections, for her vast experience had shown her that the more sensitive a man's nature might be, so much the more easy was he to be deceived by a little judicious flattery, a little clever talk of the union of twin souls — the hollo wness of an unsympa- thetic world. The Victoria was unusually 97 In All Time of Our Wealth full of passengers that day, for there were several people on board bound for the Eiviera, and others who were part of two big trips to Paris, undertaken by enter- prising firms at the minimum of profit. There were several children, and one little family, with a father and mother in all the throes of sea-sickness, interested Hellard in spite of himself. The head of the family was evidently a bank clerk, who had saved for many weary months for this trip, and his wife, a thin, faded woman with a pale lemon-coloured complexion, looked as though she would freely have given up her share in Paris to seek the shelter of a quieter haven than the deck of a mid-Channel boat. But there were two children with them whose rounded innocence appealed to Stephen, and when Tommy stumbled and fell with a little howl of despair, as a wave lifted the Victoria and then dropped her with a sickening lurch, Hellard paused to set the child on his feet. Lady Cicely drew away her gown quickly from the contact with the little hands covered with gingerbread and toffee. "I hate dirty little brats," she said sharply. " He will be much happier grub- bing in the scuttle." But Hellard was of a different opinion, and said so firmly, and after a moment Cicely left him, with a shrug of annoyance, as he sat down trying to make friends with the children, and to suggest lemon-and- soda remedies to the despairing parents. Ten minutes later he was in possession of all their childish confidences, and with the thought of Gay in his mind had started upon a wonderful story of a bear who lived in a coal-pit and only ate overseers, when he became aware that Beddows, his im- maculate valet, was standing at his elbow with an imperturbable countenance. "Beg pardon, sir, but I was not quite sure whether you are aware that Miss Hadow is looking for you on the other side of the deck, sir." There was something curiously firm about Beddow's manner, and Hellard, be- wildered and irritated, yet felt himself compelled to put down the child and cross the deck to where Lady Cicely and her aunt were lamenting a prostrate maid with open-mouthed annoyance. "Gracious, Mr. Hellard, what shall we do? — the creature is absolutely fainting. Maids have no right to nerves," said Lady 98 Cicely. " She has fainted three times since we left Dover, and Aunt Letitia is quite upset about it." Hellard listened politely, and ended by despatching Beddows with brandy and smelling salts for the invalid, and con- cluding the day by reading aloud to Miss Hadow from the Court Journal, and listen- ing to the frequent remarks of Cicely and Beaumont on the frailties and follies of their numerous acquaintances. They landed at Calais in the red of an April evening, when the crucifix that fronts the landing-stage stood out black against a background of fiame, and it seemed no time to Hellard till he was ensconced in a special Pullman car on the Sud express, for which he had arranged. He had the pleasure of asking his three friends to share it with him, and to see that they appreciated to the full the possibilities that a million of money presents. Before they had reached Paris, it was decided that he should not remain there at aU, but travel straight through to Messina, and from thence to Taormina, there to remain till the Sea Nyrnph furled her white wings in the harbour of Catania and beckoned him on board. The long journey was successfully ac- complished, and Hellard managed to make the discomforts of Italian railway traveUing less apparent than usual. They reached Messina in the dawn of a new day, and Hellard, as he stood on the platform of the little station, realised for the first time the intense beauty of Sicily. They were wait- ing for the long-delayed train, and Cicely and Miss Hadow were extremely cross after a bad night, while even Beaumont expressed a strong doubt as to whether they would ever be comfortable in this forsaken hole. Beddows and Annette were guarding the luggage, and perhaps never had a more dishevelled trio of the feminine sex set foot in Messina. Miss Hadow was muffled in a shawl as a protection against tooth- ache, Lady Cicely was thoroughly travel- stained and in need of curling-pins and powder, while Annette had barely recovered from her attack of sea-sickness, and was audibly expressing a wish that she had never left Hill Street, Mayfair. But Hellard, with his eyes fixed upon the Calabrian mountains trembling under the glory of a new day, flushing to rose from crest to foot, saw nothing of his In All Time of Our Wealth companions for the time. He was away in a new world, filled with the blue of the glittering Mediterranean, the shadows from the mighty cone of Etna — the black lava hollows in the Valle del Bove — the red of the walls of the Greek theatre, where Taormina towered on its sovereign height. 