VC -- A Chronicle of Castle Barfield and of the Crimea

d or two at a time, and then flaring up with an unwonted brilliance. The young man took a bedroom candle from a table at the stairfoot, lit it, and motioned the General to pr

ith a steady glow on the hearth, and the rich dark maroon curtains and hangings of the room gave it a secluded, sheltered, and homely look which under other circumstances would have been wholly comfortable by contrast with the ele

an, 'that I shall have cause to be sorry for myself and for somebody much dearer to me than myself before this business is ov

t, sir?' a

pon us to-night will take some time to settle, and will make more noise in the world than

d about that already,

is nothing else for it at this moment but for you and me to say good-bye. Things may right themselves, but I see no use in mincing matters, and I tell you the honest truth when I say that I don't believe it, and that for the moment I don't even hope

, sir,' s

kely thing to hope for at one time, for in the years before the Crimean War the sons of the British bourgeoisie were not very welcome in the British army. But as his father had climbed hand-over-hand to wealth, and as one local honour after another had fallen upon him, the prospect grew clearer. Now, John Jervase for three years had held the Commission of the Peace, and had taken a part in politics which had made him something of a figure in the district. He was above all the poor man's friend, and had become a great authority on working-man economics. He had been foremost in the local movement for the establishment of the Penny Bank, and had printed a pamphlet which somebody else had written to his order, which had brought him into a favourable prominence. The commission for which Polson yearned grew nearer and nearer in prospect, and at last he had almost placed his hand upon it. Now it was gone-gone, in all probability, beyond retrieval, and that alone would have been enough for an average grief. Yet it was barely a tithe of the sudden burden he had to bear. He had lost Irene, and any man who has ever been seriously in love knows what that may mean to the heart of three-and-twenty. And

reble like that of an hysteric woman. He felt his way to a hall chair which had its place close to the parlour door, and sat down there to wait until he should find his father alone. He could hear no words from where he sat, but through all the plangent noises of the storm he could discern anger and command in his father's voice, and a querulous appeal which had a note of rage in it in the voice of his father's companion. He paid but little heed, for his heart was growing numbed, and

lse towards flight, and stood rooted, staring as if he beheld a vision. The little figure came forward with uncertain footsteps, one hand holding the candlestick overhead and the other groping for the wall. The feet trod with a. harsh sound on one or two fragments of broken glass which had escaped the housemaid's broom. A yearning ache fill

re

t, and his own heart was like cold iron in his breast. She made a picture never to be forgotten; a picture to be recalled on stormy nights at sea; in many a lonely hour of contemplation on alien shores; in many hours of sickness and delirium, in summer heats among the vineyards on the banks

he had no power to comfort

nd the chosen idol of his young manhood's heart. 'I have seen your father, dear, and whateve

tears rained down as fast as ever, there was no break

nished at the turning of a corner, and the feint light on the wall grew fainter. Then he heard the soft opening of a door, and before it closed again, one sob reached his ears, and stabbed the heart that had laid within him like cold iron; and he knew that all her self-control had broken down. The door closed swiftly, shutting out the last ray of light reflected from the wall, and he found h

ealthily, and his father spoke alm

s the land for you, my lad. You'll start first thing tomorrow. You lie low, and leave me to work things fo

ting to speak to you.' Jervase started violently at his un

g with clenched hands. 'What are

spoken in his life till then. 'That isn't my line o

sing from between clenched teeth. 'Go t

ce I had time to think this night's work over, and af

nd stood with his eyelashes still glistening and his cheeks wet and scalded. But his brows were drawn level and hi

father. 'Say yo

in is not the place. Castle Barfield is the place. Th

e been eave

disdain. 'But I'm not going to follow that red

ammered and coul

ess

ay it? Unless my father and his

language from

e. Give me a chance to ta

he took a seat at the opposite side of the table, leaning both his arms

, repressing a sick shudder.

believe the yarn these cha

m I to

what do you think

in to us all,

most likely no. As for r

O

t of a chance that'd give us in a court of justice. Now you remember, Polson. This ain't a civil perceeding. The minute they get them chaps over from Canada and the States it's a criminal prosecution. D'ye want to see your own father in the

u like about me, Joh

answered. 'That's my privilege

is it?' asked

t o' the way we can make a fight for credit. It's him as deserv

mind? Who was it that came time and time and time again to whisper into my ear,

idesman and a trustee, and the Lord alone k

traced to you if you could help it. You've thrust m

, you lean hypocrite?' asked Jervase. 'If you'll

d now he showed him a disdainful back,

oing there?' he asked, a

and silver from his pockets, and pulling one or two handsome rings from his fingers, and

oing?' his fath

hat. I've got no right to anything. It seems I've lived on stolen money all my life and gone flaunting about in st

se almost babbled

re good-bye.

o leave me, Polly? You're not a-

tlemen and hold up my head amongst them, and make a career amongst them. That was a mistake, you

ou mustn't go. I

s house it would choke me. If I tried to sleep here another night I might as well lie down on fire. If I can't eat me

o you, Polly, my lad; I've

for an honest name.

only lad-you're all I've got to l

n's shilling, and try

ther could answer