Among the Water Lilies

Front matter

[FrontisOit. BY CECILIA M. BLAKE AUTHOR OF "CECILE RAYE," ETC. ' V LONDON SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, KENT & CO., LTD. [ All rights reserved ] CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE r. JULIET AND ANGELrNA ... I II. AN EMPTY DREAM .... 6 III. APPLES OF SODOM . . . ' . II IV. COUNT RIPALTO . . . . 1 6 V. FATHER AND DAUGHTER . . . 19 VI. HAUNTED . . . . 25 VII. DESERTED ..... 32 VIII. AFTER MANY DAYS .... 38 IX. "THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR" . 43 X. A BEAUTIFUL DREAM . . . 51 XI. LANCELOT'S DREAM .... 63 XII. "THE WAGES OF SIN" ... 68 XIII. "OLD APPLE-TREE COTTAGE" . . 74 XIV. A STRANGE GIFT .... 78 XV. LIZ'S SECRET ..... 88 XVI. " FROM AN OLD ADMIRER " . . . 96 XVII. "POOR OLD TYKE" . . . . IOI XVIII. DR. MEREDITH SEES A STRIKING LIKENESS 109 XIX. "THE PICTURE OF OUR LANCIE" . . 117 XX. " LONDON STREETS ARE PAVED WITH GOLD " 1 23 XXI.

A GIRDLE CAKE CAST UPON THE WATERS . 1 27 XXII. HYPNOTISED . . . . 1 30 XXIII. "SHE IS AMONG THE WATER LILIES" . 142 XXIV. MR. BRETT, ALIAS "OLD NICK" . . 152 XXV. A TERRIBLE FEAR . . . .163 XXVI. "DEAD OR DRUNK?" . . . 169 CONTENTS. IV CHAP. PAGE 1 76 xxvn XXVIII GEORGE HAS HIS REVENGE . " THAT BOY'S FACE AGAIN ! " "YOU KNOW DR. MEREDITH?" "THOU HAST THY MOTHER'S FACE'' "EVERYTHING DEPENDS ON COUNSEL'' GEORGE PLEADS "NOT GUILTY " i86 192 XXIX. '97 XXX 204 XXXI 212 XXXII XXXIII XXXIV, DIM MEMORIES SISTER URSULA 2 20 226 "I WILL CONFESS" A CRIMEAN INCIDENT 236 xxxv, XXXVI xxxvn xxxvm. 244 "WHEN TO LOVE WAS BLISS ' "AH, YOU DO NOT KNOW ! :' . THE OLD OAK CHEST 253 262 268 XXXIX XI THE MAN AND THE MONKEY 277 " SEE THE GREAT REWARD OFFERED " "THAT IS SISTER URSULA'S REAL NAME, THEN?" . . . . . 286 XLI XLI I 296 XLI1I MRS. M'TAGGART VISITS DR. MEREDITH CAUGHT IN THE VERY ACT . 306 XLIV 315 XI.V A SERIOUS CHARGE THE FINGER OF GOD 323 XLVI, XLVII XLVIII 332 "I SHALL GIVE THIS DAY TO THE DEAD MR. GILROY .... 339 345 "NOT A TITTLE OF EVIDENCE" "NO HOPE — NONE" . XLIX 353 I., 369 "THE COCK'S SHRILL CLARION" THE OLD COAT 376 I I. LII LIII, LIV 389 THE LAST LINK 396 "THIS MISCARRIAGE OF JUSTICE"

Chapter I. Juliet And Angelina

Life's web is strangely woven. The brighter threads, of which there are not a few, are generally daubed and darkened with colours of funereal gloom, apparently without meaning or design ; while great chequers of cross purposes run hither and thither all over and across the web. From our present standpoint it looks like nothing but a coarse confused daub — a patch work of knots, ends, and broken patterns. But the richer the tissue, the fabric, the tapestry, the uglier, the coarser the wrong side. So, friends, let us remember that now we look on the wrong side of this web of Life ; and that, when we see the right, our eyes will be dazzled with its brilliancy and beauty. The court of St. James had never been more gay, more brilliant than during the season of 1851. Draw ing-rooms, balls, and State concerts followed each other in rapid succession.

The nation was in a whirl of excitement. The philanthropic dreams of Albert A the good, the gracious, had been realised. Men of every clime and nation were crowding to the great Exhibition in Hyde Park. Hands were locked in the grasp of universal brotherhood. The Divinity of humanity had triumphed. The nations rejoiced mightily. The swords would be turned to plough shares ; the spears to pruning hooks. No seer was in our midst to sound the note of w7arning, and point to the cloud, no bigger than a man's hand, even then ' DO ' slowly7 rising in the East — a cloud ere long to darken the horizon and burst upon the affrighted lands in torrents of blood ! At the Queen's first drawing-room of this memor able season two very lovely girls were presented. The one, Miss Lewellyn, daughter and sole heiress of Sir Arthur Lewellyn, Lord-Lieutenant, and the great est magnate of the county (Downshire); and the other, Lady Angelina Woodville, daughter of the Earl of Barrington.

These two young girls, bosom friends, and both under the care of the same chaperon, alike in beauty as in years, were as unlike as possible in form and feature, in character and type of womanhood. Lady Angelina from her rank claims precedence. Though not above the middle height, her delicately formed figure and finely posed head conveyed the impression that she was so. Her face was oval ; her features refined and classical. Her full-lipped mouth would have suited a Venus. Her well-opened eyes, softened by snowy lids with thickly fringed lashes, were of that uncertain hue which darkens and deepens with every passing emotion, and in whose violet light love could nestle and rest. Her bronzy brown hair, swept severely back from classic cheek and pearly JULIET AND ANGELINA. 3 ear, formed a coronet of many plaits to her beautiful head.

Such was Lady Angelina — one among a thousand. No true man could look at the tender expression on her beautiful face without feeling that he who gained her wealth of love would find a treasure beyond rubies. On the other hand Miss Lewellyn was of regal beauty, "divinely tall and most divinely fair." In form, features, and complexion she resembled her pa trician father, in his youth acknowledged the finest man of his time. Her eyes were like bits of blue sky — no mistaking their colour. Her hair when the sun kissed it was masses of rippling gold, and her com plexion like her own English roses. No one would have imagined that this fair girl had had a dark-eyed, olive-skinned Italian mother, but it was so. Her father's marriage with a young con tadina — a child not half his age — whom he met and fell madly in love with while rambling through Italy, was the one romance, the one folly, his friends called it, of his life.

It was at all events in her early death (a short year of passionate bliss had been his) the bitter sorrow of his life. She left him a legacy, bow ever, a daughter — and there were times which made her dearer than ever to his bereaved heart — times when the yearning wistfulness of that mother's eyes looked out of her azure ones ; times when the tender mobile expression of that mother's mouth lingered on the proudly curved lips of her beautiful daughter. He called her Juliet ; it was her mother's name. She was accepted as the queen of the season. Men crowded round the peerless beauty. Peers laid their coronets at her feet. But all this worship was received with haughty indifference. Then it was whispered as an open secret that she was engaged, had long been so, indeed, to her cousin, Captain Lancelot Lewellyn, heir, after his father, to the entailed estates of Harfield and large properties in other neighbour ing counties.

" A most natural and suitable marriage," people said; they were both young, both handsome, and both evidently fond of each other ; at all events, if the beauty was cold as a statue under the passionate glances of Captain Lewellyn, empressement was bad form in courtly circles. And bow very nice for the parents to have the property kept together ! So coroneted peers and the aristocrats of lower degree bowed to the necessity of preserving the status quo so far as the Harfield estates were concerned at least, and admired and flirted with the beautiful Juliet to their heart's content. Juliet and her handsome cousin were, of course, much together. His mother, Lady Emmeline, was her chaperon, as well as that of Lady Angelina ; delicate health rendering her own mother unfit for the duties of a London season.

Captain Lewellyn had been the companion of both those lovely girls from boyhood. His holidays had been passed either at Harfield Towers or Barrington Court; but, as a boy, as a youth, he showed no special preference for either. This could not last, however. Yeai's brought manhood, and manhood's passions awoke in his breast. Then, with all the force of bis strong manly nature, his passionate love centred on his cousin Juliet. It was an unfortunate prefer ence. She, notwithstanding the wise, much-talked-of arrangement, had no heart to give. That she enter- JULIET AND ANGELINA. 5 tained a certain affectionate fondness for her hand some cousin was undoubted — but love ! Her great St. Bernard, her beautiful Arab were to her quite as dear!

Chapter II. An Empty Dream

" You will promise me, Juliet, that when I return you will be my wife, dearest?" and handsome Captain Lancelot Lewellyn bent towards her, waiting an answer with as much anxiety as if his life depended on it. The girl whom he addressed, looking radiantly magnificent in her ball dress of satin, Honiton and pearls, was silent a moment, then she withdrew her hand from his arm, and answered, almost petulantly : " Lance, why will you persevere in this fashion ? Why can't you wait ? You know our marriage will come off in good time. It's all settled, you know." "I know nothing," said her companion bitterly, gulping down a great sigh of disappointment. " Oh, Juliet, I wish I knew if you love me ! " " And love is but an empty dream," she said, and smiled ; " an empty dream, just think of that, cousin mine."

"Love is no empty dream, it is the filling up of life's fulness. Oh, Juliet, do be serious. To-morrow I sail with my regiment on foreign service. Oh, give me the assurance of your love, the hope, the blessed hope that on my return, if I ever do return, you will be my own — my very own." " So soon ! " she cried. Her face paled. AN EMPTY DREAM. 7 Her companion noticed the sudden pallor. His heart throbbed gladly. " She loves me," he thought. But the glad throb was quickly stilled. "Oh, Lance, why will you force me to say disagreeable things ! You know as well as I do that I do not love you well enough to be your wife." She stopped sud denly, seeing the look of concentrated anguish on his face, then she went on again soothingly, " But you know, dear, ' that absence makes the heart grow fonder,' and perhaps — perhaps, Lance — " " Perhaps what, Juliet ?

" he interrupted eagerly. His love, poor fellow, was at the boiling point; hers below zero. " Do not interrupt me," she cried. " Now you have driven the pleasant thing I was going to say away ! " " The pleasant thing you were going to say ? The only pleasant thing, darling, you can say is, ' I love you, Lance ; I have always loved you,' " he went on hopes ully, as he saw the rose and the lily contending for mastery on that fair face he loved so well ; " say, ' darling, I will think of you in your absence, and when you return I will be your — ' " She stopped him almost fiercely. " Do not mention the odious word ! I will pledge myself to no one. I am only eighteen; I have years before me. My heart must respond passionately to the love of a man at whose feet I can lay down my self-will, and acknow ledge him my lord and master."

She spoke rapidly ; now she paused for a moment and looked up at the handsome face bending over her. It was an ideal face, or rather the face of an ideal Englishman, with the fair skin where not bronzed by the sun, with the short chesnut curls clustering round the open brow, with goodness, bravery, truth, expressed in every finely-cut feature ; and a figure tall, broad-shouldered, manly, fit for a knight of the round table. Juliet knew all this before, in fact was so familiar with it that she generally preferred to have this handsome cousin of hers as an escort; but now in this supreme crisis of her fate it came to her as a new revelation. The effect, however, of this revela tion which, in lightning flash, revealed her to herself was not what might have been supposed. She gave expression to it when, after a few moment's silence, she again spoke.

" No, Lance, it cannot be. There's a great gulf between us — the difference between light and dark ness. You are altogether too good for me ; you do not know the wild passions of my nature. They scorch, they burn my heart ! The man whose slave these passions will make me will have affinity with them ! " " True — too true ; oh, Juliet, intense emotion is prophetic!" The girl spoke the words which fixed her fate, which shut the Eden gate of true manly love behind her for ever, slowdy, brokenly, with convulsive. gasps. Staggered, appalled at what Juliet said, Lancelot could find no words to repudiate hers. The impression they conveyed to his mind was so profound ; the utter hopelessness of ever gaining Juliet's love seemed burned into his soul ; an earthquake of despair swallowed up in a moment the fair visions of his life.

The joyous past, the hopeful present, the despairing future reeled around him and closed over his darkened life. During the few minutes in which they had strolled in silence toward the extreme end of the long conservatory he had lived a lifetime. AN EMPTY DREAM. 9 Among leafy palms and exotics rich and rare they lingered. The soft light of shaded lamps fell on Lancelot's bowed head, on the fair face of Juliet, from which every vestige of colour had disappeared. The sound of falling water, and the distant strains of music, fell softly on the ear. The incense of rose, mignonette and heliotrope, filled the atmosphere. Still not a word was spoken. The hearts of both were too full. But the memory of this scene — of this hour — was an abiding presence with them during the years to come. " Then I am to understand," said Captain Lewellyn, in a voice so strangely broken and husky that he failed to recognise it as his own, " that this is your final decision.

May I ask if nothing can alter it ? Years of — " " Say no more — ask no more, Lance. It is irrevoc able." " Irrevocable ! " " I have said." *' And your reason. " I have given it." She raised her head proudly, but he could see tears in her azure eyes. " It is no use repeating it, the Fates are against us." She tried to smile. " The Furies, Juliet, you mean." An expression of mortal agony swept across his fine face, but in a moment it was gone. " So be it," he said ; " I bow to your decision, but, God help me, you have taken the sweetness out of my life ; the dreams of youth, the hopes of manhood, are now but apples of Sodom — dust, ashes ! " She turned upon him rapidly. " Lance, for both our sakes this cannot be prolonged. Kiss me and say ' Good-bye.' ' May you be happy and forget me." She held up her face to him as she spoke — a face pale and cold as alabaster.

He bent towards her, and pressed his lips to her brow. He shuddered. He felt as if he kissed the dead. His lips lingered not over this first and last kiss ; but, like distant music, falling waters, flowery incense, this kiss, too, was an abiding memory. In silence, then, he replaced her hand on his arm, and he led her away from the " Gates of Eden ! "

Chapter III. Apples Of Sodom

He led her back to the brilliant ball-room from which he had drawn her a short hour ago to tell her of his love. That short hour had been to him a hideous nightmare. He had lived a lifetime of sorrow ! As they neared the entrance they heard the sound of voices and the steps of persons approaching. Sud denly emerging from a bank of high-growing exotics they came upon them — a lady and gentleman. "Lady Angelina ! " cried Captain Lewellyn, in a tone of surprise, " and that — " " Count Ripalto," murmured Juliet. " Ah, truant, I have found you," said the count, in a rich musical voice. " Have you forgotten you pro mised me this waltz ? " " Lady Angelina," said Captain Lewellyn, " take my arm. I shall take both ladies to their chaperon." He bowed to the count with studied coolness and moved on. The count reddened to the roots of his hair and then turned ghastly pale.

" Insolent Anglais," he muttered, " yTou will hear from me to-morrow." " Pray, save yourself the trouble, count, I am no duellist." " You are a coward," he hissed, and stalked away. Captain Lewellyn heard as though he heard not. The foreign count was nothing to him ; but how in heaven's name had he made the acquaintance of the ladies ? " Angelina," he asked, he could not trust his voice yet to speak to Juliet, " how did you come to know this man ? " The girl blushed and looked up, then her eyes fell before his. Oh, how to conceal her feelings from this her beau-ideal knight of all men. " Lady Buchan introduced him. Everybody knows him. People make a great fuss with him. He is an exile — a poor patriot, you know." Oh, is he. I do not know." " And he is so fascinating, so handsome, has such fine eyes, such a musical voice, such a splendid wraltzer.

Oh, I cannot, tell you what he's not." " I can. He is not a good man. He is not a man fit for young girls to associate with." " And yet they declare they all adore him." " So much the worse for them then." Juliet, who had been listening in silence, now spoke. "The Count Ripalto is all Lady Angelina says. / am proud of his acquaintance." There was a tremor in her voice as she spoke that Captain Lewellyn, lovingly familiar with every tone, bad never heard in it before. " Juliet, you ! " "Yes, Lance, and though all the world should be against him / will be his champion ! I know the men hate him ; but you ! I thought you were above such petty jealousies." Her eyes flashed, her cheeks flushed. His ears tingled. Dismay held him silent. A APPLES OF SODOM. 13 vision rose before his eyes of a frail skiff dashing along the waters of the Niagara and even now caught in the vortex.

" Oh, God ! " he sighed audibly, " can this be the man with whom she has affinity ? " He put Lady Angelina under his mother's care, whispering as he did so, " Do not let her dance with that man," glancing at the count, who bad followed them at a distance ; "I am so sorry he has made their acquaintance. How did it come about ? " " It was impossible to avoid, Lance ; Count Ripalto is a distinguished foreigner. He is received everywhere. He has made great sacrifices for his country and lost his estates." " Has he ? i" did not know." And her son looked as if he knew something else. The count now came up to claim his partner, and stood chatting and laughing gaily with the beautiful Juliet. "The girl who has just broken my heart," thought Captain Lewellyn bitterly. "How can she be so cruel ? " Almost savagely the yToung officer interrupted their tete-a-tete.

" I crave a few moments, Miss Lewellyn," said he ; and as she hesitated and glanced at the count, he con tinued pleadingly, " do not refuse me, Juliet ; these few moments are the last I shall ask. Tbe opportunity will never come again." Was he too prophetic ? She turned to her partner. " Excuse me, count, just a moment ? " She took Lancelot's arm and walked away. As they passed Ripalto, Lewellyn noticed the blackness of his face and again heard the word " Coward " hissed in his ear. He led Juliet back in the direction of the conservatory. She was rebellious — this beautiful Juliet. " Lance, do be brief pray," she said. " See, the count waits for me." " How heartless she is," he thought ; " can she have forgotten so soon ? " But he spoke not a word till he had her back into the cool conservatory.

Here they were alone. Then he stopped ; he had almost dragged her along. She was breathless, he very much excited. He looked round for a seat and found a rustic bench among clustering shrubs. " Sit," he said. " No time," she answered, " my partner waits for me. " Let him wait," he cried indignantly. " By heavens, Juliet, much as I have loved, do love you, I would rather see you dead at my feet than the wife of that man ! " " Oh, you jealous fool !" she cried passionately. " Is that all you've got to say ? " " Is it not enough, more than enough to any true, pure-minded woman ? " Her Southern blood was boiling. She stamped the ground with her little foot. She laughed fiercely. " I accept no dictatorship from y7ou, Lance, or any one else. Take me back to my partner at once, or I shall go myself."

She removed her hand from his arm, but be gently replaced it. " I had much to say, Juliet. A sure prevision of coming evil fills my heart, but you will not hear me, and I've done." " No, I will not hear y7ou. You are right. " Then let us not part in anger, Juliet. Let us say farewell." APPLES OF SODOM. 15 She was suddenly and strangely softened. Did a prevision of coming evil fill her heart also ? Who can tell? " Then farewell, Lance," she said. " God bless and keep you." Again she lifted her face to his, but this time no lip kissed the alabaster brow. " Farewell, Juliet," he said ; " you have broken my heart. May God have mercy on you." And he led her back to her partner.

Chapter IV. Count Ripalto

The first week in August ! The hot sun was glaring in through open windows. Even cool Venetians could scarce keep out his heat. The steaming rooms, in spite of every dainty invention to keep them sweet and cool, reeked with the odour of crowded streets, of men and animals. The London season was practically at an end. The devotees of fashion looked pale and haggard. The " upper ten " longed for the moor, the loch, the sea. The lower thousands — bootless to speak of them to ears polite — inhaled the dust, the dirt, the reeking odours ; gasped with the heat and toiled on in the sweat of their brow ! Captain Lewelly7n had been gone six weeks. He had sailed with his regiment to Malta, where troops were concentrating. His mother (Lady Emmeline) and the young Lady Angelina had accompanied him to Portsmouth, and with achiug hearts had bidden him " Good-bye."

The tearful sweet face of the young Angelina had been unnoticed, the icy cold hand which trembled in his warm grasp unobserved. Following the "cross purposes of life," he was sighing for the tinsel toy beyond bis reach, and neglecting the golden prize at his hand! A few weeks later and Lady Angelina, whose cheek was paling daily, whose ste^ had lost its elasticity, whose breath came short and COUNT RIPALTO. 17 quick, and who had ceased to take any interest in society's engagements, was ordered home to the country by a celebrated physician. In private he told Lady Emmeline that he dreaded incipient consumption ! Fools and blind ! " She never told her love, but let grief, like a worm in the bud, prey on her damask cheek." Count Ripalto had become more and more the idol of society. He certainly was most fascinating, there was not an accomplishment in which he was not an adept ; music and poetry were his birthright.

He painted beautifully, sung magnificently. Had he made either of those arts a profession he could have realised a large income. He rode and danced to perfection ; and above all was handsome as an Apollo ! What more would you have ? The women adored him, the men hated him. They knew the shady side of his life, which was quite as pronounced as the other. The women attributed their hatred to jealousy. They were wrong. How could high-born Englishmen speak to their wives, their daughters, their fiance1 es, of the things done by him in secret, this gambler, cheat, duellist, abominably immoral man! It was even hinted that his title was fictitious, but as no one was specially interested in this, no one took the trouble to inquire. Unfortunately, Sir Arthur Lewellyn, from his long residence in the country, had lost touch with society men.

He went but rarely to the clubs, and was " out of the swim." He spent most of his time in visiting, with Juliet, the many sights of London, and enjoying them as heartily as a school-boy. But now a third was always with them and shared all their pleasures. This third, need it be said, was the fascinating count. His plans were approaching completion, and had been carried on successfully. He ingratiated himself with Sir Arthur in the most delicate way. The land — tbe fair land of Italy— the country of Sir Arthur's early lost bride, was ever at hand as a subject of interesting conversation. The place where he had met her, the scenes where he had wooed and won her, were all re produced to the old man's mind in the fervid tongue of the glowing South. The simple songs of the con tadina were sung over and over again, while father and daughter listened.

Tears would sometimes roll down Sir Arthur's cheek as Ripalto's glorious voice thrilled through his soul and awoke the echoes of the past. Yes, the old man loved him. And Juliet ? The delicious dream was rudely broken. Lady Em meline was closeted with Sir Arthur more than an hour one day during this last week of the season. What transpired was not known. But the interview must have been exciting — if not stormy ; for, when Sir Arthur conducted her to the hall door she was heated and flushed, and great red spots were burning on Sir Arthur's cheeks.

Chapter V. Father And Daughter

Next morning Sir Arthur and Juliet were sitting at breakfast together. They had never swerved from this old-fashioned country custom, however late the engagements of the previous evening. The girl, in a white morning robe, looked beautiful as ever; but balls, concerts, and the continual round of gaiety were beginning to tell upon her. She was paler than when she came to town, and certainly thinner. Her father looked up from his plate. He had been trifling with his knife and fork for some time. " Juliet," he said, " I intend returning home to morrow." " To-morrow ! " Her face whitened. " Is this not a very sudden decision ? " "Well, perhaps. I wish, however, I had made it sooner." He spoke in a tone of irritability she had never be fore heard, and his natural good colour was heightened by the great red spots located there ever since his tete-a-tete with Lady Emmeline the day before.

Alarm filled her lovely eyes, and she waited with an anxious sense of coming evil. " Yes, I certainly wish I had made it sooner. This cursed, continued round of folly — to call it by its right name — is telling on you, and I confess I am heartily sick of it. I hate London— I always hated it. I came to town on your account. I wish to God I'd never come ! " " Oh, father ! " cried Juliet, now thoroughly alarmed, " what is wrong ? " " Wrong ? Damn, everything is wrong." Juliet's ears tingled. Never in her life had she heard her father use such a word. "He must be awfully upset," she thought. She was not wrong, but she was innocent as a child of the real cause. In the sweet love daily growing in her heart she reposed. Her father's friend could not but be an acceptable lover to his child. She tried to change the subject.

" You saw Lady Emmeline yesterday. Has she heard anything of Angelina ? " " No ; we had other things to talk about. The girl was wise to get out of this hateful place as soon as possible ; but she was consumptive." " Consumptive ! She was a love-sick fool. She was mad about Lance, who, of course, did not care for her. People were blind not to see it." A sneer rested on her lips. The great red spots increased on her father's face. " By heavens, Juliet, in love with Lancelot ! She is a sensible girl — a finer fellow never walked God's earth. But she should have known better. You are his fiancee — have been ever since you were in the cradle, and, by heavens ! I could not wish you a happier destiny." She went deadly — ghastly white. The warm blood tied from cheek, lip, and throat, and with a low moan, she allowed her head to drop upon the table, and lie there still — motionless.