首页 >出版文学> Derrick Vaughan——Novelist>第2章
  "It’sacomfort,"saidtheMajor,inhissarcasticway,"tohaveafellow—soldiertotalktoinsteadofaquill—driver,whoasyetisnotevenapenny—a—liner。Eh,Derrick?Don’tyoufeelinclinedtoregretyourfool’schoicenow?YoumighthavebeenstartingoffforthewarwithLawrencenextweek,ifyouhadn’tchosenwhatyou’repleasedtocallaliterarylife。Literarylife,indeed!Ilittlethoughtasonofminewouldeverhavebeensowantinginspiritastopreferdabblingininktoalifeofaction——tobethescribblerofmerewords,ratherthananofficerofdragoons。"
  ThentomyastonishmentDerricksprangtohisfeetinhotindignation。Ineversawhimlooksohandsome,beforeorsince;forhisangerwasnotthedistorting,devilishangerthattheMajorgavewayto,butrealdownrightwrath。
  "Youspeakcontemptuouslyofmerenovels,"hesaidinalowvoice,yetmoreclearlythanusual,andasifthewordswerewrungoutofhim。"Whatrighthaveyoutolookdownononeofthegreatestweaponsoftheday?andwhyisawritertosubmittoscoffsandinsultsandtamelytohearhisprofessionreviled?Ihavechosentowritethemessagethathasbeengivenme,andIdon’tregretthechoice。ShouldIhaveshowngreaterspiritifIhadsoldmyfreedomandrightofjudgmenttobeoneofthenationalkillingmachines?"
  Withthathethrewdownhiscardsandstrodeoutoftheroominawhiteheatofanger。Itwasapityhemadethatlastremark,foritputhiminthewrongandneedlesslyannoyedLawrenceandtheMajor。
  Butanangrymanhasnotimetoweighhiswords,and,asIsaid,pooroldDerrickwasveryhuman,andwhenwoundedtoointolerablycouldonoccasionretaliate。
  TheMajorutteredanoathandlookedinastonishmentattheretreatingfigure。Derrickwassuchanextraordinarilyquiet,respectful,long—sufferingsonasarule,thatthisoutburstwasstartlingintheextreme。Moreover,itspoiltthegame,andtheoldman,chafedbytheresultofhisownill—nature,andhelplesstobringbackhispartner,wasforcedtobetakehimselftochess。I
  lefthimgrumblingawaytoLawrenceaboutthevanityofauthors,andwentoutinthehopeoffindingDerrick。AsIleftthehouseIsawsomeoneturnthecornerintotheCircus,andstartinginpursuit,overtookthetall,darkfigurewhereBennettStreetopensontotheLansdowneHill。
  "I’mgladyouspokeup,oldfellow,"Isaid,takinghisarm。
  Hemodifiedhispacealittle。"Whyisit,"heexclaimed,"thateveryotherprofessioncanbetakenseriously,butthatanovelist’sworkissupposedtobemereplay?GoodGod!don’twesufferenough?
  Havewenothardbrainworkanddrudgeryofdeskworkandtediousgatheringofstatisticsandtroublesomesearchintodetails?Havewenotanappallingweightofresponsibilityonus?——andarewenotatthemercyofathousandcapriciouschances?"
  "Comenow,"Iexclaimed,"youknowthatyouareneversohappyaswhenyouarewriting。"
  "Ofcourse,"hereplied;"butthatdoesn’tmakemeresentsuchanattacktheless。Besides,youdon’tknowwhatitistohavetowriteinsuchanatmosphereasours;it’slikeaweightonone’spen。Thislifehereisnotlifeatall——it’sadailydeath,andit’skillingthebooktoo;thelastchaptersarewretched——I’mutterlydissatisfiedwiththem。"
  "Asforthat,"Isaidcalmly,"youarenojudgeatall。Youcannevertelltheworthofyourownwork;thelastbitissplendid。"
  "Icouldhavedoneitbetter,"hegroaned。"Butthereisalwaysaghastlydepressiondraggingonebackhere——andthenthetimeissoshort;justasonegetsintotheswingofitthebreakfastbellrings,andthencomes——"Hebrokeoff。
  Icouldwellsupplytheendofthesentence,however,forIknewthatthencametheslowtortureofatete—a—tetedaywiththeMajor,stingingsarcasms,humiliatingscoldings,vexationsanddifficultiesinnumerable。
  Idrewhimtotheleft,havingnomindtogotothetopofthehill。
  WeslackenedourpaceagainandwalkedtoandfroalongthebroadlevelpavementofLansdowneCrescent。Wehaditentirelytoourselves——notanothercreaturewasinsight。
  "Icouldbearitall,"heburstforth,"ifonlytherewasachanceofseeingFreda。Oh,youarebetteroffthanIam——atleast,youknowtheworst。Yourhopeiskilled,butminelivesonatortured,starvedlife!WouldtoGodIhadneverseenher!"
  CertainlybeforethatnightIhadneverquiterealisedtheirrevocablenessofpoorDerrick’spassion。IhadhalfhopedthattimeandseparationwouldgraduallyeffaceFredaMerrifieldfromhismemory;andIlistenedwithadireforebodingtothefloodofwretchednesswhichhepouredforthaswepacedupanddown,thinkingnowandthenhowlittlepeopleguessedatthetremendouspowershiddenunderhisusuallyquietexterior。
  Atlengthhepaused,buthislastheart—brokenwordsseemedtovibrateintheairandtoforcemetospeaksomekindofcomfort。
  "Derrick,"Isaid,"comebackwithmetoLondon——giveupthismiserablelife。"
  Ifelthimstartalittle;evidentlynothoughtofyieldinghadcometohimbefore。Wewerepassingthehousethatusedtobelongtothatstrangebook—loverandrecluse,Beckford。Ilookedupattheblankwindows,andthoughtofthatcurious,self—centredlifeinthepast,surroundedbyeveryluxury,abletoindulgeeverywhim;andthenIlookedatmycompanion’spale,torturedface,andthoughtofthelifehehadelectedtoleadinthehopeofsavingonewhomdutyboundhimtohonour。Afterall,whichlifewasthemostworthliving——whichwasthemosttobeadmired?
  Wewalkedon;downbelowusanduponthefartherhillwecouldseethelightsofBath;theplacesobeautifulbydaylookednowlikeafairycity,andtheAbbey,loomingupagainstthemoon—litsky,seemedlikesomegreatgiantkeepingwatchovertheclusteringroofsbelow。Thewell—knownchimesrangoutintothenightandtheclockstruckten。
  "Imustgoback,"saidDerrick,quietly。"Myfatherwillwanttogettobed。"
  Icouldn’tsayaword;weturned,passedBeckford’shouseoncemore,walkedbrisklydownthehill,andreachedtheGayStreetlodging—
  house。Irememberthestiflingheatoftheroomasweenteredit,anditscontrasttothecool,dark,winter’snightoutside。Icanvividlyrecall,too,theoldMajor’sfaceashelookedupwithasarcasticremark,butwithashadeofanxietyinhisbloodshoteyes。
  Hewasleaningbackinagreen—cushionedchair,andhisghastlyyellowcomplexionseemedtomemorenoticeablethanusual——hisscantygreyhairandwhiskers,thelinesofpainsoplainlyvisibleinhisface,impressedmecuriously。IthinkIhadneverbeforerealisedwhatawreckofamanhewas——howutterlydependentonothers。
  Lawrence,who,todohimjustice,hadagooddealoftact,andwho,Ibelieve,caredforhisbrotherasmuchashewascapableofcaringforanyonebuthimself,repeatedagoodstorywithwhichhehadbeenenliveningtheMajor,andIdidwhatIcouldtokeepupthetalk。Derrickmeanwhileputawaythechessmen,andlightedtheMajor’scandle。HeevenmanagedtoforceupalaughatLawrence’sstory,and,ashehelpedhisfatheroutoftheroom,IthinkIwastheonlyonewhonoticedthelookoftiredenduranceinhiseyes。
  ChapterV。
  "IknowHowfarhighfailureovertopstheboundsOflowsuccesses。OnlysufferingdrawsTheinnerheartofsong,andcanelicitTheperfumesofthesoul。"
  EpicofHades。
  Nextweek,Lawrencewentofflikeaherotothewar;andmyfriend——
  alsoIthinklikeahero——stayedonatBath,enduringasbesthecouldtheworstformofloneliness;forundoubtedlythereisnolonelinesssofrightfulasconstantcompanionshipwithanuncongenialperson。Hehad,however,oneconsolation:theMajor’shealthsteadilyimproved,underthejointinfluenceoftotalabstinenceandBathwater,and,withtheimprovement,histemperbecamealittlebetter。
  ButoneSaturday,whenIhadrundowntoBathwithoutwritingbeforehand,Isuddenlyfoundadifferentstateofthings。InOrangeGroveImetDr。Mackrill,theMajor’smedicalman;heusednowandthentoplaywhistwithusonSaturdaynights,andIstoppedtospeaktohim。
  "Oh!you’vecomedownagain。That’sallright!"hesaid。"Yourfriendwantssomeonetocheerhimup。He’sgothisarmbroken。"
  "Howonearthdidhemanagethat?"Iasked。
  "Well,that’smorethanIcantellyou,"saidtheDoctor,withanoddlookinhiseyes,asifheguessedmorethanhewouldputintowords。"AllthatIcouldgetoutofhimwasthatitwasdoneaccidentally。TheMajorisnotsowell——nowhistforusto—night,I’mafraid。"
  Hepassedon,andImademywaytoGayStreet。Therewasanairofmysteryaboutthequaintoldlandlady;shelookedbrimfulofnewswhensheopenedthedoortome,butshemanagedto’keepherselftoherself,’andshowedmeinupontheMajorandDerrick,rathertriumphantlyIthought。TheMajorlookedterriblyill——worsethanI
  hadeverseenhim,andasforDerrick,hehadthestrangestlookofshrinkingandshame—facednessyoueversaw。Hesaidhewasgladtoseeme,butIknewthathelied。Hewouldhavegivenanythingtohavekeptmeaway。
  "Brokenyourarm?"Iexclaimed,feelingboundtotakesomenoticeofthesling。
  "Yes,"hereplied;"metwithanaccidenttoit。Butluckilyit’sonlytheleftone,soitdoesn’thindermemuch!Ihavefinishedsevenchaptersofthelastvolumeof’Lynwood,’andwasjustwantingtoaskyoualegalquestion。"
  Allthistimehiseyesboremyscrutinydefiantly;theyseemedtodaremetosayoneotherwordaboutthebrokenarm。Ididn’tdare——
  indeedtothisdayIhavenevermentionedthesubjecttohim。
  Butthatevening,whilehewashelpingtheMajortobed,theoldlandladymadesomepretextfortoilinguptothetopofthehouse,whereIsatsmokinginDerrick’sroom。
  "You’llexcusemymakingboldtospeaktoyou,sir,"shesaid。I
  threwdownmynewspaper,and,lookingup,sawthatshewasbubblingoverwithsomestory。
  "Well?"Isaid,encouragingly。
  "It’saboutMr。Vaughan,sir,Iwantedtospeaktoyou。Ireallydothink,sir,it’snotsafeheshouldbeleftalonewithhisfather,sir,anylonger。Suchdoingsaswehadheretheotherday,sir!
  Somehoworother——andnoneofuscan’tthinkhow——theMajorhadmanagedtogetholdofabottleofbrandy。HowhehaditIdon’tknow;butwenoneofussuspectedhim,andintheafternoonhesayshewastoopoorlytogoforadriveortogooutinhischair,andsettlesoffontheparloursofaforanapwhileMr。Vaughangoesoutforawalk。Mr。Vaughanwasoutacoupleofhours。Iheardhimcomeinandgointothesitting—room;thentherecamesoundsofvoices,andascufflingoffeetandmovingofchairs,andIknewsomethingwaswrongandhurrieduptothedoor——andjustthencameacrashlikefire—irons,andIcouldheartheMajora—swearingfearful。NothearingasoundfromMr。Vaughan,Igotscared,sir,andopenedthedoor,andthereIsawtheMajoraleaningupagainstthemantelpieceasdrunkasalord,andhissonseemedtohavegotthebottlefromhim;itwashalfempty,andwhenhesawmehejusthandedittomeandorderedmetotakeitaway。ThenbetweenuswegottheMajortoliedownonthesofaandlefthimthere。WhenwegotoutintothepassageMr。Vaughanheleantagainstthewallforaminute,lookingaswhiteasasheet,andthenInoticedforthefirsttimethathisleftarmwashangingdownathisside。’Lord!
  sir,’Icried,’yourarm’sbroken。’Andhewentallatonceasredashehadbeenpalejustbefore,andsaidhehadgotitdoneaccidentally,andbademesaynothingaboutit,andwalkedoffthereandthentothedoctor’s,andhaditset。Butsir,givenamandrunkastheMajorwas,andgivenascuffletogetawaythedrinkthatwaspoisoninghim,andgivenacrashsuchasIheard,andgivenapokera—lyinginthemiddleoftheroomwhereitstandstoreasonnopokercouldgetunlessitwasthrown——why,sir,nosensiblewomanwhocanputtwoandtwotogethercandoubtthatitwasalltheMajor’sdoing。"
  "Yes,"Isaid,"thatisclearenough;butforMr。Vaughan’ssakewemusthushitup;and,asforsafety,why,theMajorishardlystrongenoughtodohimanyworsedamagethanthat。"
  Thegoodoldthingwipedawayatearfromhereyes。ShewasveryfondofDerrick,anditwenttoherheartthatheshouldleadsuchadog’slife。
  IsaidwhatIcouldtocomforther,andshewentdownagain,fearfullestheshoulddiscoverherupstairsandguessthatshehadopenedherhearttome。
  PoorDerrick!Thatheofallpeopleonearthshouldbemixedupwithsuchapolicecourtstory——withdrunkard,andviolence,andpokersfiguringinit!IlaybackinthecampchairandlookedatHoffman’s’Christ,’andthoughtofalltheextraordinaryproblemsthatoneisforevercomingacrossinlife。AndIwonderedwhetherthepeopleofBathwhosawthetall,impassive—looking,hazel—eyedsonandtheinvalidfatherintheirdailypilgrimagestothePumpRoom,orinchurchonSunday,orintheParkonsunnyafternoonshadtheleastnotionofthetragedythatwasgoingon。Myreflectionswereinterruptedbyhisentrance。HehadforcedupacheerfulnessthatIamsurehedidn’treallyfeel,andseemedafraidoflettingourtalkflagforamoment。Iremember,too,thatforthefirsttimeheofferedtoreadmehisnovel,insteadofasusualwaitingformetoasktohearit。Icanseehimnow,fetchingtheuntidyportfolioandturningoverthepages,adroitlyenough,asthoughanxioustoshowhowimmaterialwasthelossofaleftarm。ThatnightIlistenedtothefirsthalfofthethirdvolumeof’Lynwood’sHeritage,’andcouldn’thelpreflectingthatitsauthorseemedtothriveonmisery;andyethowIgrudgedhimtothisdeadly—livelyplace,andthismonotonous,cooped—uplife。
  "Howdoyoumanagetowriteone—handed?"Iasked。
  Andhesatdowntohisdesk,putaletter—weightontheleft—handcornerofthesheetoffoolscap,andwrotethatcomicalfirstparagraphoftheeighthchapteroverwhichwehavealllaughed。I
  supposefewreadersguessedtheauthor’sstateofmindwhenhewroteit。Ilookedoverhisshouldertoseewhathehadwritten,andcouldn’thelplaughingaloud——Iverilybelievethatitwashiswayofturningoffattentionfromhisarm,andleadingmesafelyfromtheregionofawkwardquestions。
  "By—the—by,"Iexclaimed,"yourwritingofgarden—partiesremindsme。IwenttooneatCampdenHilltheotherday,andhadthegoodfortunetomeetMissFredaMerrifield。"
  Howhisfacelightedup,poorfellow,andwhatafloodofquestionshepouredout。"Shelookedverywellandverypretty,"Ireplied。
  "Iplayedtwosetsoftenniswithher。Sheaskedafteryoudirectlyshesawme,seemingtothinkthatwealwayshuntedincouples。I
  toldheryouwerelivinghere,takingcareofaninvalidfather;butjustthenupcametheotherstoarrangethegame。SheandIgotthebestcourts,andaswecrossedovertothemshetoldmeshehadmetyourbrotherseveraltimeslastautumn,whenshehadbeenstayingnearAldershot。Oddthathenevermentionedherhere;butIdon’tsupposeshemademuchimpressiononhim。Sheisnotatallhisstyle。"
  "Didyouhavemuchmoretalkwithher?"heasked。
  "No,nothingtobecalledtalk。ShetoldmetheywereleavingLondonnextweek,andshewaslongingtogetbacktothecountrytoherbelovedanimals——rabbits,poultry,anaviary,andallthatkindofthing。Ishouldgatherthattheyhadkeptherratherinthebackgroundthisseason,butIunderstandthattheeldestsisteristobemarriedinthewinter,andthennodoubtMissFredawillbebroughtforward。"
  Heseemedwonderfullycheeredbythisopportunemeeting,andthoughtherewassolittletotellheappearedtobequitecontent。IlefthimonMondayinfairlygoodspirits,anddidnotcomeacrosshimagaintillSeptember,whenhisarmwaswell,andhisnovelfinishedandrevised。Henevermadetwocopiesofhiswork,andIfancythiswasperhapsbecausehespentsoshortatimeeachdayinactualwriting,andlivedsocontinuallyinhiswork;moreover,asIsaidbefore,hedetestedpenmanship。
  Thelastpartof’Lynwood’farexceededmyexpectations;perhaps——
  yetIdon’treallythinkso——Iviewedittoofavourably。ButIowedthebookadebtofgratitude,sinceitcertainlyhelpedmethroughtheworstpartofmylife。
  "Don’tyoufeelflatnowitisfinished?"Iasked。
  "IfeltsomiserablethatIhadtoplungeintoanotherstorythreedaysafter,"hereplied;andthenandtherehegavemethesketchofhissecondnovel,’AtStrife,’andtoldmehowhemeanttoweaveinhischildishfanciesaboutthedefenceofthebridgeintheCivilWars。
  "Andabout’Lynwood?’Areyoucominguptotowntohawkhimround?"
  Iasked。
  "Ican’tdothat,"hesaid;"youseeIamtiedhere。No,Imustsendhimoffbyrail,andlethimtakehischance。"
  "Nosuchthing!"Icried。"Ifyoucan’tleaveBathIwilltakehimroundforyou。"
  AndDerrick,whowiththeoddestinconsistencywouldlethisMS。lieaboutanyhowathome,buthatedthethoughtofsendingitoutaloneonitstravels,gladlyacceptedmyoffer。SonextweekIsetoffwiththehugebrownpaperparcel;few,however,willappreciatemygoodnature,fornoonebutanauthororapublisherknowsthefearfulweightofathreevolumenovelinMS。!TomyintensesatisfactionIsoongotridofit,forthefirstgoodfirmtowhichItookitreceiveditwithgreatpoliteness,tobehandedovertotheir’reader’foranopinion;andapparentlythe’reader’s’opinioncoincidedwithmine,foramonthlaterDerrickreceivedanofferforitwithwhichheatonceclosed——notbecauseitwasagoodone,butbecausethefirmwaswellthoughtof,andbecausehewishedtolosenotime,buttohavethebookpublishedatonce。Ihappenedtobetherewhenhisfirst’proofs’arrived。TheMajorhadhadanattackofjaundice,andwasinafiendishhumour。Wehadamiserabletimeofitatdinner,forhebadgeredDerrickalmostpastbearing,andI
  thinkthepooroldfellowmindeditmorewhentherewasathirdpersonpresent。Somehowthroughallhemanagedtokeephisextraordinarycapacityforreverencingmereage——eventhisdegradedanddetestableoldageoftheMajor’s。Ioftenthoughtthatinthishewaslikemyownancestor,HugoWharncliffe,whosedeferenceandrespectfulnessandpatiencehadnotdescendedtome,whileunfortunatelytheeffectsofhisphysicalinfirmitieshad。I
  sometimesusedtoreflectbitterlyenoughonthetruthofHerbertSpencer’steachingastoheredity,soclearlyshowninmyowncase。
  Intheyear1683,throughtheabominablecrueltyandharshnessofhisbrotherRandolph,thisHugoWharncliffe,mygreat—great—great—
  great—greatgrandfather,wasimmuredinNewgate,andhisconstitutionwastherebysomuchimpairedandenfeebledthat,twohundredyearsafter,myconstitutionispayingthepenalty,andmywholelifeistherebychangedandthwarted。HencethischildlessRandolphisaffectingthecourseofseverallivesinthe19thcenturytotheirgrievoushurt。
  Butrevenonsanosmoutons——thatistosay,toourlionandlamb——
  theoldbruteofaMajorandhislong—sufferingson。
  Whilethetablewasbeingcleared,theMajortookfortywinksonthesofa,andwetwobeataretreat,litupourpipesinthepassage,andwerejustturningoutwhenthepostman’sdoubleknockcame,butnoshowersoflettersinthebox。Derrickthrewopenthedoor,andthemanhandedhimafat,stumpy—lookingrollinapinkwrapper。
  "Isay!"heexclaimed,"PROOFS!"
  And,inhothaste,hebegantearingawaythepinkpaper,tilloutcametheclean,foldedbitsofprintingandthedirtyanddishevelledbluefoolscap,thelookofwhichIknewsowell。Itisanoddfeeling,thatfirstseeingone’sselfinprint,andIcouldguess,eventhen,whatathrillshotthroughDerrickasheturnedoverthepages。Buthewouldnottakethemintothesitting—room,nodoubtdreadinganotherdiatribeagainsthisprofession;andwesolemnlyplayedeuchre,andpatientlyenduredtheMajor’switheringsarcasmstillteno’clocksoundedourhappyrelease。
  However,tomakealongstoryshort,amonthlater——thatis,attheendofNovember——’Lynwood’sHeritage’waspublishedinthreevolumeswithmaroonclothandgiltlettering。Derrickhaddistributedamonghisfriendsthepublishers’announcementofthedayofpublication;
  andwhenitwasoutIbesiegedthelibrariesforit,alwaysexpressingsurpriseifIdidnotfinditintheirlists。Thenbeganthetimeofreviews。AsIhadexpected,theywereextremelyfavourable,withtheexceptionoftheHerald,theStroller,andtheHour,whichmadeitratherhotforhim,thelatterinparticularpitchingintohisviewsandassuringitsreadersthatthebookwas’dangerous,’anditsauthorabelieverin——variousthingespeciallyrepugnanttoDerrick,atithappened。
  Iwaswithhimwhenhereadthesereviews。OvertheclevernessofthesatiricalattackintheWeeklyHeraldhelaughedheartily,thoughthelaughwasagainsthimself;andastothecriticwhowroteintheStrolleritwasapparenttoallwhoknew’Lynwood’thathehadnotreadmuchofthebook;butoverthisreviewintheHourhewasgenuinelyangry——ithurthimpersonally,and,asitafterwardsturnedout,playednosmallpartinthestoryofhislife。Thegoodreviews,however,weremany,andtheirrecommendationofthebookhearty;theyallprophesiedthatitwouldbeagreatsuccess。Yet,spiteofthis,’Lynwood’sHeritage’didn’tsell。Wasit,asIhadfeared,thatDerrickwastoodevoidofthepushingfacultyevertomakeasuccessfulwriter?Orwasitthathewashandicappedbybeingdownintheprovincesplayingkeepertothatabominableoldbear?Anyhow,thebookwaswellreceived,readwithenthusiasmbyanextremelysmallcircle,andthenitdroppeddowntothebottomamongthemassofoverlookedliterature,anditscareerseemedtobeover。IcanrecallthelookinDerrick’sfacewhenonedayheglancedthroughthenewMudieandSmithlistsandfound’Lynwood’sHeritage’nolongerdown。IhadbeentryingtocheerhimupaboutthebookandquotingallthefavourableremarksIhadheardaboutit。Butunluckilythiswasdamningevidenceagainstmyoptimistview。
  Hesighedheavilyandputdownthelists。
  "It’snousetodeceiveone’sself,"hesaid,drearily,"’Lynwood’
  hasfailed。"
  Somethinginthedeepdepressionoflookandtonegavemeamomentaryinsightintotheauthor’sheart。Hethought,Iknow,oftheagonyofmindthisbookhadcosthim;ofthoselongmonthsofwaitingandtheirdeadlystruggle,ofthehopeswhichhadmadeallhepassedthroughseemsowellworthwhile;andthebitternessofthedisappointmentwasnodoubtintensifiedbytheknowledgethattheMajorwouldrejoiceoverit。
  WewalkedthatafternoonalongtheBradfordValley,aroadwhichDerrickwasspeciallyfondof。Helovedthethickly—woodedhills,andtheglimpsesoftheAvon,which,flankedbythecanalandtherailway,runsparallelwiththehighroad;healwaysadmired,too,acertainlittlevillagewithgreystonecottageswhichlayinthisdirection,andlikedtolookatthesiteoftheoldhallneartheroad:nothingremainedofitbutthetallgatepostsandrustyirongateslookingstrangelydrearyanddeserted,andwithinonecouldsee,betweensomedarkyewtrees,anoldterracewalkwithstonestepsandbalustrades——themostghostly—lookingplaceyoucanconceive。
  "Iknowyou’llputthisintoabooksomeday,"Isaid,laughing。
  "Yes,"hesaid,"itisalreadybeginningtosimmerinmybrain。"
  Apparentlyhisdeepdisappointmentastohisfirstventurehadinnowayaffectedhisperfectlyclearconsciousnessthat,comewhatwould,hehadtowrite。
  AswewalkedbacktoBathhetoldmehis’RuinedHall’storyasfarasithadyetevolveditselfinhisbrain,andwewerestilldiscussingitwheninMilsomStreetwemetaboycryingeveningpapers,anddetailsofthelastgreatbattleatSaspatarasHill。
  Derrickbrokeoffhastily,everythingbutanxietyforLawrencedrivenfromhismind。
  ChapterVI。
  "Saynot,OSoul,thouartdefeated,Becausethouartdistressed;
  Ifthouofbetterthingartcheated,Thoucanstnotbeofbest。"
  T。T。Lynch。
  "Goodheavens,Sydney!"heexclaimedingreatexcitementandwithhiswholefaceaglowwithpleasure,"lookhere!"
  HepointedtoafewlinesinthepaperwhichmentionedtheheroicconductofLieutenantL。Vaughan,whoattheriskofhislifehadrescuedabrotherofficerwhensurroundedbytheenemyandcompletelydisabled。LieutenantVaughanhadmanagedtomountthewoundedmanonhisownhorseandhadmiraculouslyescapedhimselfwithnothingworsethanasword—thrustintheleftarm。
  WewenthomeintriumphtotheMajor,andDerrickreadthewholeaccountaloud。Withallhisdetestationofwar,hewasneverthelessgreatlystirredbythedescriptionofthegallantdefenceoftheattackedposition——andforatimewewereallatone,andcouldtalkofnothingbutLawrence’sheroism,andVictoriaCrosses,andtheprospectsofpeace。However,alltoosoon,theMajor’sfiendishtemperreturned,andhebegantousetheeventofthedayasaweaponagainstDerrick,continuallytauntinghimwiththecontrastbetweenhisstay—at—homelifeofscribblingandLawrence’slifeofheroicadventure。Icouldnevermakeoutwhetherhewantedtogoadhissonintoleavinghim,inorderthathemightdrinkhimselftodeathinpeace,orwhetherhemerelyindulgedinhisnaturalloveoftormenting,valuingDerrick’sdevotionasconducivetohisowncomfort,andknowingthathardwordswouldnotdrivehimfromwhathedeemedtobehisduty。Iratherinclinetothelatterview,buttheoldMajorwasalwaysanenigmatome;norcanItothisdaymakeouthisraison—d’etre,exceptonthetheorythatthetrainingofanovelistrequiredacourseofslowtorture,andthattheoldmanwassentintotheworldtobeasortofthorninthefleshofDerrick。
  Whatwiththedisappointmentabouthisfirstbook,andthedifficultyofwritinghissecond,thefiercecravingforFreda’spresence,thestrugglenottoallowhisadmirationforLawrence’sbraverytobecomepoisonedbyenvyundertheinfluenceoftheMajor’sincessantattacks,Derrickhadjustthenahardtimeofit。
  Henevercomplained,butInoticedagreatchangeinhim;hismelancholyincreased,hisflashesofhumourandmerrimentbecamefewerandfewer——Ibegantobeafraidthathewouldbreakdown。
  "ForGod’ssake!"IexclaimedoneeveningwhenleftalonewiththeDoctorafteraneveningofwhist,"doordertheMajortoLondon。
  Derrickhasbeenmewedupherewithhimfornearlytwoyears,andI
  don’tthinkhecanstanditmuchlonger。"
  SotheDoctorkindlycontrivedtoadvisetheMajortoconsultawell—knownLondonphysician,andtospendafortnightintown,furthersuggestingthatamonthatBenRhyddingmightbeenjoyablebeforesettlingdownatBathagainforthewinter。LuckilytheMajortooktotheidea,andjustasLawrencereturnedfromthewarDerrickandhisfatherarrivedintown。Thechangeseemedlikelytoworkwell,andIwasablenowandthentoreleasemyfriendandplaycribbagewiththeoldmanforanhourortwowhileDerricktoreaboutLondon,interviewedhispublisher,maderesearchesintoseventeenthcenturydocumentsattheBritishMuseum,andsomehowmanagedinhisrapidwaytoacquirethoseglimpsesoflifeandcharacterwhichheafterwardsturnedtosuchgoodaccount。Allwasgristthatcametohismill,andatfirstthemeresightofhisoldhome,London,seemedtorevivehim。OfcourseattheveryfirstopportunityhecalledattheProbyns’,andwebothofushadaninvitationtogothereonthefollowingWednesdaytoseethemarchpastofthetroopsandtolunch。Derrickwasnearlybesidehimselfattheprospect,forheknewthatheshouldcertainlymeetFredaatlast,andthemingledpainandblissofbeingactuallyinthesameplacewithher,yetascompletelyseparatedasifseasrolledbetweenthem,wasbeginningtotryhimterribly。
  MeantimeLawrencehadturnedupagain,greatlyimprovedineverywaybyallthathehadlivedthrough,butrathertooreadytofallinwithhisfather’stonetowardsDerrick。Therelationsbetweenthetwobrothers——alwaysalittlepeculiar——becamemoreandmoredifficult,andtheMajorseemedtoenjoypittingthemagainsteachother。
  Atlengththedayofthereviewarrived。Derrickwasnotlookingwell,hiseyeswereheavywithsleeplessness,andtheMajorhadbeenunusuallyexasperatingatbreakfastthatmorning,sothathestartedwithajaded,worn—outfeelingthatwouldnotwhollyyieldeventotheexcitementofthislong—expectedmeetingwithFreda。Whenhefoundhimselfinthegreatdrawing—roomatLordProbyn’shouse,amidabuzzoftalkandacrowdofstrangefaces,hewasseizedwithoneofthosesuddenattacksofshynesstowhichhewasalwaysliable。
  Infact,hehadbeensolongalonewiththeoldMajorthatthisplungeintosocietywastoogreatareaction,andtheverythinghehadlongedforbecameatorturetohim。
  FredawasattheotherendoftheroomtalkingtoKeithCollins,thewell—knownmemberforCodrington,whosecuriousbutattractivefacewasknowntoalltheworldthroughthecaricaturesofitin’Punch。’
  IknewthatshesawDerrick,andthatheinstantlyperceivedher,andthatamiserablesenseofseparation,ofdistance,ofhopelessnessoverwhelmedhimashelooked。Afterall,itwasnaturalenough。FortwoyearshehadthoughtofFredanightandday;inhisunutterablydrearylifehermemoryhadbeenhisrefreshment,hissolace,hiscompanion。Nowhewassuddenlybroughtfacetoface,notwiththeFredaofhisdreams,butwithafashionable,beautifullydressed,much—soughtgirl,andhefeltthatagulflaybetweenthem;itwasthegulfofexperience。Freda’slifeinsociety,thewhirlofgaiety,theexcitementandsuccesswhichshehadbeenenjoyingthroughouttheseason,andhismiserablemonotonyofcompanionshipwithhisinvalidfather,ofhardworkandwearydisappointment,hadbrokendownthebondofunionthathadonceexistedbetweenthem。Fromeithersidetheylookedateachother——Fredawithawonderingperplexity,Derrickwithadullgrindingpainathisheart。
  Ofcoursetheyspoketoeachother;butIfancythemerestplatitudespassedbetweenthem。Somehowtheyhadlosttouch,andacrowdedLondondrawing—roomwashardlytheplacetoregainit。
  "Soyournovelisreallyout,"Iheardhersaytohiminthatdeep,clearvoiceofhers。"Ilikethedesignonthecover。"
  "Oh,haveyoureadthebook?"saidDerrick,colouring。
  "Well,no,"shesaidtruthfully。"Iwantedtoreadit,butmyfatherwouldn’tletme——heisveryparticularaboutwhatweread。"
  ThatfrankbutnotveryhappilywordedanswerwaslikeastabtopoorDerrick。Hehadgiventotheworldthenabookthatwasnotfitforhertoread!This’Lynwood,’whichhadbeenwrittenwithhisownheart’sblood,wascountedadangerous,poisonousthing,fromwhichshemustbeguarded!
  Fredamusthaveseenthatshehadhurthim,forshetriedhardtoretrieveherwords。
  "Itwastantalisingtohaveitactuallyinthehouse,wasn’tit?I
  haveagrudgeagainsttheHour,foritwasthereviewinthatwhichsetmyfatheragainstit。"Thenratheranxioustoleavethedifficultsubject——"Andhasyourbrotherquiterecoveredfromhiswound?"
  IthinkshewasalittlevexedthatDerrickdidnotshowmoreanimationinhisrepliesaboutLawrence’sadventuresduringthewar;
  thelessherespondedthemoreenthusiasticshebecame,andIamperfectlysurethatinherheartshewasthinking:
  "Heisjealousofhisbrother’sfame——Iamdisappointedinhim。Hehasgrowndull,andabsent,andstupid,andheisdreadfullywantinginsmall—talk。Ifearthathislifedownintheprovincesisturninghimintoabear。"
  Shebroughttheconversationbacktohisbook;buttherewasalittletouchofscorninhervoice,asifshethoughttoherself,"I
  supposeheisoneofthosepeoplewhocanonlytalkononesubject——
  hisowndoings。"Hermannerwasalmostbrusque。
  "Yournovelhashadagreatsuccess,hasitnot?"sheasked。
  Heinstantlyperceivedherthought,andrepliedwithatouchofdignityandaproudsmile:
  "Onthecontrary,ithasbeenagreatfailure;onlythreehundredandninecopieshavebeensold。"
  "Iwonderatthat,"saidFreda,"foronesooftenheardittalkedof。"
  Hepromptlychangedthetopic,andbegantospeakofthemarchpast。
  "IwanttoseeLordStarcross,"headded。"Ihavenoideawhataheroislike。"
  JustthenLadyProbyncameup,followedbyanelderlyharpyinspectaclesandfalse,much—frizzedfringe。
  "Mrs。Carsteenwishestobeintroducedtoyou,Mr。Vaughan;sheisagreatadmirerofyourwritings。"
  AndpoorDerrick,whowasthenquiteunusedtothespecies,hadtostandandreceiveafloodofthemostfulsomeflattery,deliveredinastridentvoice,andtobearthecriticalandprolongedstareofthespectacledeyes。Norwouldtheharpyeasilyreleaseherprey。
  Shekepthimmuchagainsthiswill,andIsawhimlookingwistfullynowandthentowardsFreda。
  "Itamusesme,"Isaidtoher,"thatDerrickVaughanshouldbesoanxioustoseeLordStarcross。ItremindsmeofCharlesLamb’sanxietytoseeKosciusko,’for,’saidhe,’Ihaveneverseenahero;
  Iwonderhowtheylook,’whileallthetimehehimselfwaslivingalifeofheroicself—sacrifice。"
  "Mr。Vaughan,Ishouldthink,needonlylookathisownbrother,"
  saidFreda,missingthedriftofmyspeech。
  IlongedtotellherwhatitwaspossibletotellofDerrick’slife,butatthatmomentSirRichardMerrifieldintroducedtohisdaughteragirlinahugehatandgreatfloppingsleeves,MissIsaacson,whosepictureattheGrosvenorhadbeensomuchtalkedof。Nowthelittleartistknewnooneintheroom,andFredasawfittobeextremelyfriendlytoher。Shewasintroducedtome,andIdidmybesttotalktoherandsetFredaatlibertyassoonastheharpyhadreleasedDerrick;butmyendeavourswerefrustrated,forMissIsaacson,havinglookedmewellover,decidedthatIwasnotatallintense,butamerecommonplace,slightlycynicalworldling,andhavingexchangedafewlukewarmremarkswithme,shereturnedtoFreda,andstucktoherlikeaburfortherestofthetime。
  Westoodoutonthebalconytoseethetroopsgoby。Itwasafinesight,andweallbecamehighlyenthusiastic。Fredaenjoyedthemerepageantlikeachild,andwasdelightedwiththehorses。ShelookednowmoreliketheFredaoftheyacht,andIwishedthatDerrickcouldbenearher;but,asill—luckwouldhaveit,hewasatsomedistance,hemmedinbyanimpassablebarrierofeagerspectators。
  LawrenceVaughanrodepast,lookingwonderfullywellinhisuniform。
  Hewasridingaspiritedbay,whichtookFreda’sfancyamazingly,thoughshereservedherchiefenthusiasmforLordStarcrossandhissteed。Itwasnotuntilallwasover,andwehadreturnedtothedrawing—room,thatDerrickmanagedtogetthetalkwithFredaforwhichIknewhewaslonging,andthentheywerefated,apparently,todisagree。Iwasstandingnearandoverheardthecloseoftheirtalk。
  "IdobelieveyoumustbeamemberofthePeaceSociety!"saidFredaimpatiently。"OrperhapsyouhaveturnedQuaker。ButIwanttointroduceyoutomygod—father,Mr。Fleming;youknowitwashissonwhomyourbrothersaved。"
  AndIheardDerrickbeingintroducedasthebrotheroftheheroofSaspatarasHill;andthenextdayhereceivedacardforoneofMrs。
  Fleming’sreceptions,Lawrencehavingpreviouslybeeninvitedtodinethereonthesamenight。
  WhathappenedatthatpartyIneverexactlyunderstood。AllIcouldgatherwasthatLawrencehadbeentremendouslyfeted,thatFredahadbeenpresent,andthatpooroldDerrickwasasmiserableashecouldbewhenInextsawhim。Puttingtwoandtwotogether,Iguessedthathehadbeentantalisedbyameresightofher,possiblytorturedbywatchingmorefavouredmenenjoyinglongtete—a—tetes;
  buthewouldsaylittleornothingaboutit,andwhen,soonafter,heandtheMajorleftLondon,Ifearedthatthefortnighthaddonemyfriendharminsteadofgood。
  ChapterVII。
  "Theninthathourrejoice,sinceonlythusCanthyproudheartgrowwhollypiteous。
  ThusonlytotheworldthyspeechcanflowChargedwiththesadauthorityofwoe。
  SincenomannurturedintheshadecansingToatruenoteonepsalmofconquering;
  WarriorsmustchantitwhomourowneyesseeRedfromthebattleandmorebruisedthanwe,Menwhohavebornetheworst,haveknownthewhole,Havefeltthelastabeyanceofthesoul。"
  F。W。H。Myers。
  AboutthebeginningofAugust,IrejoinedhimatBenRhydding。TheplacesuitedtheMajoradmirably,andhisvariousbathstookupsogreatapartofeachday,thatDerrickhadmoretimetohimselfthanusual,and’AtStrife’gotonrapidly。Hemuchenjoyed,too,thebeautifulcountryround,whilethehotelitself,withitshugegatheringofallsortsandconditionsofpeople,affordedhimendlessstudiesofcharacter。TheMajorbreakfastedinhisownroom,and,beingsomuchengrossedwithhisbaths,didnotgenerallyappeartilltwelve。DerrickandIbreakfastedinthegreatdining—
  hall;andonemorning,whenthemealwasover,we,asusual,strolledintothedrawing—roomtoseeiftherewereanylettersawaitingus。
  "Oneforyou,"Iremarked,handinghimathickenvelope。
  "FromLawrence!"heexclaimed。
  "Well,don’treaditinhere;theDoctorwillbecomingtoreadprayers。Comeoutinthegarden,"Isaid。
  Wewentoutintothebeautifulgrounds,andhetoreopentheenvelopeandbegantoreadhisletteraswewalked。AllatonceI
  feltthearmwhichwaslinkedinminegiveaquick,involuntarymovement,and,lookingup,sawthatDerrickhadturneddeadlypale。
  "What’sup?"Isaid。Buthereadonwithoutreplying;and,whenI
  pausedandsatdownonashelteredrusticseat,heunconsciouslyfollowedmyexample,lookingmorelikeasleep—walkerthanamaninthepossessionofallhisfaculties。Atlasthefinishedtheletter,andlookedupinadazed,miserableway,lettinghiseyeswanderoverthefir—treesandthefragrantshrubsandtheflowersbythepath。
  "Dearoldfellow,whatisthematter?"Iasked。
  Thewordsseemedtorousehim。
  Adreadfullookpassedoverhisface——thelookofonestrickentotheheart。Buthisvoicewasperfectlycalm,andfullofaghastlyself—control。
  "Fredawillbemysister—in—law,"hesaid,ratherasifstatingthefacttohimselfthanansweringmyquestion。
  "Impossible!"Isaid。"Whatdoyoumean?Howcould——"
  Asiftosilencemehethrusttheletterintomyhand。Itranasfollows:
  "DearDerrick,——ForthelastfewdaysIhavebeendownintheFlemings’placeinDerbyshire,andfortunehasfavouredme,fortheMerrifieldsareheretoo。Nowprepareyourselfforasurprise。
  Breakthenewstothegovernor,andsendmeyourheartiestcongratulationsbyreturnofpost。IamengagedtoFredaMerrifield,andamthehappiestfellowintheworld。Theyareawfullyfastidioussortofpeople,andIdonotbelieveSirRichardwouldhaveconsentedtosuchamatchhaditnotbeenforthatluckyimpulsewhichmademerescueDickFleming。Ithasallbeenarrangedveryquickly,asthesethingsshouldbe,butwehaveseenagooddealofeachother——firstatAldershottheyearbeforelast,andjustlatelyintown,andnowthesefourdaysdownhere——anddaysinacountryhouseareequaltoweekselsewhere。Ienclosealettertomyfather——giveittohimatasuitablemoment——but,afterall,he’ssuretoapproveofadaughter—in—lawwithsuchadowryasMissMerrifieldislikelytohave。
  "Yoursaffly。,"LawrenceVaughan。"
  Igavehimbacktheletterwithoutaword。Indeadsilencewemovedon,tookaturningwhichledtoalittlenarrowgate,andpassedoutofthegroundstothewildmoorlandcountrybeyond。
  Afterall,Fredawasinnowaytoblame。AsameregirlshehadallowedDerricktoseethatshecaredforhim;thencircumstanceshadentirelyseparatedthem;shesawmoreoftheworld,metLawrence,wasperhapsfirstattractedtohimbyhisverylikenesstoDerrick,andfinallyfellinlovewiththeherooftheseason,whomeveryonedelightedtohonour。NorcouldoneblameLawrence,whohadnonotionthathehadsupplantedhisbrother。AlltheblamelaywiththeMajor’sslaverytodrink,forifonlyhehadremainedoutinIndiaIfeelsurethatmatterswouldhavegonequitedifferently。
  WetrampedonoverheatherandlingandspringyturftillwereachedtheoldruinknownastheHuntingTower;thenDerrickseemedtoawaketotherecollectionofpresentthings。Helookedathiswatch。
  "Imustgobacktomyfather,"hesaid,forthefirsttimebreakingthesilence。
  "Youshalldonosuchthing!"Icried。"StayouthereandIwillseetotheMajor,andgivehimthelettertooifyoulike。"
  Hecaughtatthesuggestion,andashethankedmeIthinkthereweretearsinhiseyes。SoItooktheletterandsetoffforBenRhydding,leavinghimtogetwhatreliefhecouldfromsolitude,space,andabsolutequiet。OnceIjustglancedback,andsomehowthescenehasalwayslingeredinmymemory——thegreatstretchofdesolatemoor,thedullcrimsonoftheheather,theloweringgreyclouds,theHuntingTowerapatchofdeepergloomagainstthegloomysky,andDerrick’sfigureprostrate,ontheturf,thefacehidden,thehandsgraspingatthesprigsofheathergrowingnear。
  TheMajorwasjustreadytobehelpedintothegardenwhenIreachedthehotel。WesatdownintheverysameplacewhereDerrickhadreadthenews,and,whenIjudgeditpolitic,Isuddenlyrememberedwithapologiestheletterthathadbeenentrustedtome。Theoldmanreceiveditwithsatisfaction,forhewasfondofLawrenceandproudofhim,andthenewsoftheengagementpleasedhimgreatly。
  Hewasstilldiscussingitwhen,twohourslater,Derrickreturned。
  "Here’sgoodnews!"saidtheMajor,glancingupashissonapproached。"TrustLawrencetofallonhisfeet!Hetellsmethegirlwillhaveathousandayear。Youknowher,don’tyou?What’sshelike?"
  "Ihavemether,"repliedDerrick,withforcedcomposure。"Sheisverycharming。"
  "Lawrencehasallhiswitsabouthim,"growledtheMajor。"Whereasyou——"(severaloathsinterjected)。"Itwillbealongwhilebeforeanygirlwithadowrywilllookatyou!Whatwomenlikeisaboldmanofaction;whattheydespise,meredabblersinpenandink,writersofpoisonoussensationaltalessuchasyours!I’mquotingyourownreviewers,soyouneedn’tcontradictme!"
  Ofcoursenoonehaddreamtofcontradicting;itwouldhavebeentheworstpossiblepolicy。
  "ShallIhelpyouin?"saidDerrick。"Itisjustdinnertime。"
  AndasIwalkedbesidethemtothehotel,listeningtotheMajor’sfloodofirritatingwords,andglancingnowandthenatDerrick’sgrave,resoluteface,whichsuccessfullymaskedsuchbittersuffering,Icouldn’thelpreflectingthatherewascourageinfinitelymoredeservingoftheVictoriaCrossthanLawrence’simpulsiverescue。Verypatientlyhesatthroughthelongdinner。I
  doubtifanybutanacuteobservercouldhavetoldthathewasintrouble;and,luckily,theworldingeneralobserveshardlyatall。
  HeenduredtheMajortillitwastimeforhimtotakeaTurkishbath,andthenhavingtwohours’freedom,climbedwithmeuptherock—coveredhillatthebackofthehotel。Hewasverysilent。
  ButIrememberthat,aswewatchedthesungodown——aglowingcrimsonball,halfveiledingreymist——hesaidabruptly,"IfLawrencemakesherhappyIcanbearit。AndofcourseIalwaysknewthatIwasnotworthyofher。"
  Derrick’sroomwasalarge,gaunt,ghostlyplaceinoneofthetowersofthehotel,andinonecornerofitwasawindingstairleadingtotheroof。WhenIwentinnextmorningIfoundhimwritingawayathisnoveljustasusual,butwhenIlookedathimitseemedtomethatthenighthadagedhimfearfully。Asarule,hetookinterruptionsasamatterofcourse,andwithperfectsweetnessoftemper;butto—dayheseemedunabletodraghimselfbacktotheouterworld。Hewaswritingatadesperatepacetoo,andfrownedwhenIspoketohim。Itookupthesheetoffoolscapwhichhehadjustfinishedandglancedatthenumberofthepage——evidentlyhehadwrittenanimmensequantitysincethepreviousday。
  "Youwillknockyourselfupifyougoonatthisrate!"Iexclaimed。
  "Nonsense!"hesaidsharply。"Youknowitnevertiresme。"
  Yet,allthesame,hepassedhishandverywearilyoverhisforehead,andstretchedhimselfwiththeairofonewhohadbeeninacrampingpositionformanyhours。
  "Youhavebrokenyourvow!"Icried。"Youhavebeenwritingatnight。"
  "No,"hesaid;"itwasmorningwhenIbegan——threeo’clock。Anditpaysbettertogetupandwritethantolieawakethinking。"
  Judgingbythespeedwithwhichthenovelgrewinthenextfewweeks,IcouldtellthatDerrick’snightswereoftheworst。
  Hebegan,too,tolookverythinandhaggard,andImorethanoncenoticedthatcurious’sleep—walking’expressioninhiseyes;heseemedtomejustlikeamanwhohasreceivedhisdeath—blow,yetstilllingers——halfalive,halfdead。Ihadanoddfeelingthatitwashisnovelwhichkepthimgoing,andIbegantowonderwhatwouldhappenwhenitwasfinished。
  Amonthlater,whenImethimagainatBath,hehadwrittenthelastchapterof’AtStrife,’andwereaditoverthesitting—roomfireonSaturdayevening。Iwasverymuchstruckwiththebook;itseemedtomeagreatadvanceon’Lynwood’sHeritage,’andthepartwhichhehadwrittensincethatdayatBenRhyddingwasfullofanindescribablepower,asifthelifeofwhichhehadbeenrobbedhadflowedintohiswork。Whenhehaddone,hetieduptheMS。inhisusualprosaicfashion,justasifithadbeenabundleofclothes,andputitonasidetable。
  ItwasarrangedthatIshouldtakeittoDavison——thepublisherof’Lynwood’sHeritage’——onMonday,andseewhatofferhewouldmakeforit。JustatthattimeIfeltsosorryforDerrickthatifhehadaskedmetohawkroundfiftynovelsIwouldhavedoneit。
  Sundaymorningprovedwetanddismal;asaruletheMajor,whowasfondofmusic,attendedserviceattheAbbey,buttheweatherforcedhimnowtostayathome。Imyselfwasatthattimenochurch—goer,butDerrickwould,Iverilybelieve,assoonhavefastedaweekashavegivenupaSundaymorningservice;andhavingnomindtobelefttotheMajor’scompany,andasortofwishtobenearmyfriend,Iwentwithhim。IbelieveitisnotcorrecttoadmireBathAbbey,butforallthat’thelanternofthewest’hasalwaysseemedtomeagrandplace;asforDerrick,hehadahorrorofa’dimreligiouslight,’andalwaysstuckupforhishugewindows,andI
  believehelovedtheAbbeywithallhisheart。Indeed,takingitonlyfromasensuouspointofview,Icouldquiteimaginewhatareliefhefoundhisweeklyattendancehere;bycontrastwithhishometheplacewasHeavenitself。
  Aswewalkedback,Iaskedaquestionthathadlongbeeninmymind:
  "HaveyouseenanythingofLawrence?"
  "HesawusacrossLondononourwayfromBenRhydding,"saidDerrick,steadily。"Fredacamewithhim,andmyfatherwasdelightedwithher。"
  Iwonderedhowtheyhadgotthroughthemeeting,butofcoursemycuriosityhadtogounsatisfied。OfonethingImightbecertain,namely,thatDerrickhadgonethroughwithitlikeaTrojan,thathehadsmiledandcongratulatedinhisquietway,andhaddonethebesttoeffacehimselfandthinkonlyofFreda。Butaseveryoneknows:
  "Facejoy’sacostlymasktowear,’TisboughtwithpangslongnourishedAndroundedtodespair;"
  andhelookednowevenmorewornandoldthanhehaddoneatBenRhyddinginthefirstdaysofhistrouble。