Diana of the Crossways, v1

Dunstane said to him,-raising the

song: "Alas, I scarce can go or creep While Lukin is away." I do not doubt you have succeeded in your business over there. Ah! Now I suppose you have confidence in y

had sighed: her voice betrayed some agitat

about to receive admission to the distressful confidences of the wife, and he asked if Mrs. Warwick wa

he had not heard a word of Mr

est of me, heart and soul. Her husband has chosen to act on vile suspicions- baseless, I could hold my hand in the fire and swear. She has enemies, or the jealous fury is on the man-I know little of him. He has commenced an action against her. He will rue it. But she . . . you understand this of women at least;-they are not cowards in all things! -but the horror of facing a public scandal: my poor girl writes

cried R

y. Our bravest, our best, have an impulse to run. "By this, poor Wat far off upon a hill." Shakespeare would have the divine comprehension. I have thought all round it and come back to him. She is one of Shakespeare's women: anoth

he lady was heated by these flights of advocacy to feel that he was almost se

me! If I were only a little stronger! I fear I might break down, and it would be unfair to my husband. He has trouble enough with my premature infirmities already. I am certain she will go to The Crossways. Tony is one of the women who burn to give last kis

horse in the stabl

mare Bertha; you

' He consulted his watch. 'Let me mount Bertha, I e

itation in accepting the aid she sough

inted out to me from your ridges where The Crossways lies, about three mi

green: roads to Brasted, London, Wickford, Riddlehurst. I shall find it. Write what you have to say, my lady, and confide it to me. She shall have it to- night, if she's where you suppose. I 'll go,

ellow vollied forth a tale of the everlastingness of his passion for Diana, it would have

wr

tered, and I wait panting for Mr. Redworth's return with you. He has called, by accident, as we say. Trust to him. If ever heaven was active to avert a fatal mischance it is to- day. You will not stand against my supplication. It is my life I cry for. I have no more time. He starts.

r EM

t well,' he said. 'She has had her feed, and

t, dear friend,'

on the way. There seems a chance, an

erstand

hing, I

e is t

the run will t

er friend, but it had a promise of hopefulness. And this was all that could be done by ea

that he had gone forth riding like a huntsman. His great-coat lay on a chair in the hall, and his travelling-bag was beside it. He had carried it up from the valley, expecting hospitality, and she had sent him forth half naked to weather a frosty November night! She called in the groom, whose derision of a great-coat for any gentleman upon Bertha, meaning work for the mare, appeased her remorsefulness. Brisby, the groom, reckoned how long the mare would take to do the distance to Storling, with a rider like Mr. Redworth on her back. By seven, Brisby calculated, Mr. Redworth would be knocking at the do

dworth, as he showed himself to-day. How could he have doubted succeeding? One grain more of faith in his energy, and Diana might have been mated to the right husband for her-an open- minded clear-faced English gentleman. Her speculative ethereal mind clung to bald matter-of-fact to-day. She would have vowed that it was the sole potentially heroical. Even Brisby partook of the reflecte

as informed, and a clear traverse of lanes, not to be mistaken, 'if he kept a sharp eye open.' The sharpness of his eyes was divided between the sword-belt of the starry Hunter and the shifting lanes that zig-tagged his course below. The Downs were softly illumined; still it amazed him to think of a woman like Diana Warwick having an attachment to this district, so hard of yield, mucky, featureless, fit but for the rails she sided with her friend in detesting. Reasonable women, too! The moon, stood high on her march as he entered Storling. He led his good beast to the stables of The Three Ravens, thanking her and caressing her. The ostler conjectured from the look of the mare that he had been out with the hounds and lost his way. It appeared to Redworth singularly, that near the ending of a wild goose chase, his plight was pretty well described by the fellow. However, he had to knock at the door of The Crossways now, in the silent night time, a certainly empty house, to his fancy. He fed on a snack of cold meat and tea, standing, and set forth, clearly directed, 'if he kept a sharp eye open.' Hitherto he had proved his capacity, and he rather smiled at the repetition of the formula to him, of all men. A turning to the right was taken, one to the left, and through the churchyard, out of the gate, round to the right, and on. By this route, after an hour, he found himself passing beneath the bare chestnuts of the churchyard wall of Storling, and the sparkle of the edges of the dead chestnut-leaves at his feet reminded him of the very ideas he had entertained when treading them. The loss of an hour strung him to pursue the chase in earnest, and he had a beating of the heart as he thought that it might be serious. He recollected thinking it so at Copsley. The long ride, and nightfall, with nothing in view, had obscured his mind to the possible behin

post!' roared Redwort

nob. 'Naw, there's ne'er a house. But that's crass

ver, they were long in reaching, and the old man was promptly through the garden-gate, hailing the people and securing 'information, before Redworth could w

h asked him, and was ans

tion, the old man said

ital c

d man heaved hi

has happe

r'll be no better soon, I tells 'em. When ah was a boy, old Hampshire was a proud country, wi' the old coaches and the old squires

n the ra

oad ower all England!' exclaime

is personal appearance 'in they theer puffin' engines.' The country which had produced Andrew Hedger, as he stated his nam

ng to this natural outcry of a decaying and shunted class full three-quarters of an hour, and The Crossw

bit,' and stalked the ascent at long strides. A vigorous old fellow. Redworth waited below, observing how he joined the group at the lighted door, and, as it was apparent, put his question of the whereabout of

th jogged his arm, and the shake was

lose; have they t

fond gaze from the fair outstretched white carcase, and wit

spect of the pig; and when he did ask it, he was hard

re was no doing so. 'I'll show ye on to The Crossways House,' the latter said,

ready, that they have. Lord! you should see the chitterlings, and-the sausages hung up to and along the beams. That's a crown for any dwellin'! They runs 'em round the top of the room-it's like a May-day wreath in old times. Home-fed hog! They've a treat i

opinion of foreign hams: nobody, knew what they fed on. Hog, he said, would feed on anything, where there was no choice they had wonderful stomachs for food. Only, when they had a choice, they left the worst for last, and home-fed filled them with stuf

wooden bridge of

e hog-worshipper; 'that m

the dusky square of green, and the finger-post signalling the centre of the four roads. Andrew Hedger repeated that it was The Crossways house, ne'er a doubt. Redworth paid him his exp

e garden-path, in the shadow of the house. Here she was born: here her father died: and this was the station of her dreams, as a girl at school near London and in Paris. Her heart was here. He looked at the wind

d livingly to the guest. He pulled, and had the reply, just the same, with the faint terminal touch, resembling exactly a 'There!' at the close of a voluble delivery in the negative. Absolutely empty. He pulled and pulled.

pon consideration he supposed the house must have some guardian: likely enough, an old gardener and his wife, lost in deafness double-shotted by sleep! There was no sign of them. The night air waxe

is sure to be worsted

riving his hands into his pockets for warmth-'we've done what we could

to criticize a sex not much used to the exercise of brains. 'And they hate railways!' He associated them, in the matter of intelligence, with Andrew Hedger and Company. They sank to t

wise, till he perceived a smaller bell-knob beside the door, at which he worked piston- wise. Pump and piston, the hurly-burly and the tinkler created an alarm to scare cat and mouse and Cardinal spider, al

f shadowy grey silk. No wonder th

our foreign- suggested a genial refreshment and resistance to antagonistic elements. Nor was it, granting health, granting a sh

t. Truly a most beautiful night! She would have delighted to see it here. The Downs were like floating isla

ought it about the sharpest night he had ever encountered in England. He was cold, hungry, dispirited, and astoundingl

whether Diana had recently visited the house, or was expected. It could be learnt in the

ening window arrested him, and he called. The answer was in a

rds, but rejoined in a

wor

nough for the d

ted. It swung wide to him; and O marvel of a w

ITOR'S B

treasure; a witty

es, means the best

are; luckil

old and indiffere

peless couple, the

ness; better than s

he putrid of t

, hailed as a refres

or the advanceme

help coming

h that catch men in t

es England her soldi

k what

w; good horseman, goo

ke in likene

tarnishing eye that

hrases, opini

eaver of phras

end, and beats a Chr

likened him to a hous

t to be dull if

his ears, if not t

ture seems to pr

an interest in the do

d-you shall hu

he only v

ruck, I s

itation in acceptin

ace bred maggots in t

for spe

and better than

s not nourish

confuse the hearing

t of facts, a

! self

will, so that

r best, have an

not recognize hers

being alw

n and excessiv

ot be baffled b

the dry and drying

al attraction

d it's the end

have their mea

are in us when the

te citizen prose t

when we dare

al shamrock, aft

Irishman can't

true wit is

by stoppag

rattle about

ved a stone when

do not much feel it

n have some rese

s of women, is the

the first person

reated to r

the fists, but my

e E

text of Diana of the Cr

ld be named gm71v10.tx

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