Cousin Cecil : or, The Wheel of fortune. A domestic romance

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OR, THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE A DOMESTIC ROMANCE. BY THE AUTHOR OF "DORINDA; OR, THE MISER'S WILL," &,, &c. LONDON : PUBLISHED BY E. LLOYJD, SALISBURX-SQUARE, FLEET-STREET. OB, T> H -E WHEEL 0 F 'FORTUNE COUSIN CECI1, MINNA, AND IHE ASSEMBLED fiUESTS, ON IHE MOKNING OF THE TUNERAL AT lAIlCHINS. j OR, 2 Danvers was to take place at twelve o'clock, and it was then eleven. The guests upon that sad occasion were all assembled. There were several old friends of the Colonel from London— for the funeral was to be rather a public one; and then there was the Reverend Spragley Short Anson, commonly called Vicar Anson, who held the most important living in the neighbourhood ; and there was Mr. Greene with an e, as he was called, on account of him being particular, indeed, about the final e to his name, which, in his esteem, redeemed it from being a common green.

He was an Attorney from London, who, it was un derstood, was in possession of the last will and testa ment of the deceased Colonel Danvers. Upon a couch, which, with her rather ostentatious black, she occupied wholly, and with the most fra gile and web-like-looking white cambric handker chief you can possibly conceive, sat Miss Cecil, commonly called Cousin Cecil, the niece of the de ceased. She was a comely, young-looking woman enough, about thirty-three or thirty-four years of age, and she bore her summers well. Her grief for the death of her dear Uncle Danvers was very great, as might easily be seen by the depth of her crape flounces. Then there was Minna Danvers, he daughter of the Colonel, a fair and delicate-looking young girl, of about sixteen years of age. Poor Minna 1 There was real grief there.

She sat upon a low chair, did Minna Danvers. It was one of those chairs with a high back, such as our ances tresses considered kept up the due rigidity of the human figure. Aud there the young girl sat, with her hands clasped, and resting in her lap, and her face so pale and wan, and her sweet lips slightly trembling, and the long eyelashes drooping with the weight of tears. Poor Minna 1 There was more real, affectionate regret in one tremulous movement of her lip, than in all the parade of mourning by which she was surrounded. She did not speak — she did not move ; but there she sat, propped up by the tall back of that old chair — a picture of the very de solation of grief. CHAPTEE I. EFFECTS VAKIOUS INTRODUCTIONS. Larchins was a sweet place. It had been called Larchins time out of mind ; why, no one knew ; but it was believed that the pretty little estate, with its florid gothic mansion, and its snug park, that had all the beauty of a well-kept lawn— its tall old trees — its wilderness— its copse, and its rare old Italian garden, was first redeemed from the meadows and the woods in the time of the first Charles, and tbe name of Larchins was then given to it It was a glorious old place.

Chapter II. Proclaims

A LITTLE DISCOVERY. This speech of the oily-looking man 'spread a gloom over everybody. Cousin Cecil shrank back to her couch again, and Lionel Danvers looked sadly at Minna. " Cheer up," said Sir William; "this is the last pang. You will begin to get better after this." " No," suddenly cried Lionel, " I cannot I God I I cannot I" OE FORTUNE. his remains ? Are you all sticks and stones ? Help —help 1 Take up the coffin. Oh ! this is, indeed, too dreadful a scene to bear ! Take up the coffin, I say ! It shall not be ! I have been mistress of this house, and I am its mistress until the will of Colonel Danvers is read. I order the funeral to proceed. Who will stand by me? What do yon all call yourselves, that you can only look at each other in distraction? Help— help! Take up the coffin ! You, sir, you are a clergyman.

I speak to you, Mr. Vicar Anson, to you, who are shrinking back as though you saw a ghost, or fancied you saw one. Why do you not step forward, and prevent this desecration ?" Panting and exhausted with the violence with which she had made this speech, Cousin Cecil half fell into the arms of Mr. Greene. Lionel raised his hand and spoke — " Bear witness, all here present," he said, sadly, " that in the pure piety of love for my dear dead father, do I insist upon this act. It is that I may, from a contemplation of those deal" and well-remembered, features, placid in death, live myself a better and a worthier life. Do not mistake me, one of you. It is in a reverent spirit that I insist upon this ; and if it be God's will, it shall be done." As he spoke, he took off his hat, and all present followed the example.

"He's been screwed down for four days," said Solomon, " and it was Dick, the coffin-maker ot Hampton, that did it, and he left his screw-driver behind him, and this is it ; so here goes. Lord bless you, old master, I should just like to — to — look at your face again. I— I— What an old fool I am!" A tear dropped upon the coffin. " Proceed," said Lionel. There was now a death-like stillness in the hall. The crowd of faces were all turned towards the coffin. The Vicar Anson shrunk into a far corner ; Mr. Greene was telling Cousin Cecil never to mind, and Cousin Cecil, with her hands clasped Itogether so tightly that the knuckles stood out cold and white like knobs of marble, and her lips slightly retracted, and her teeth set, glared upon the coffin lid, which by its removal was to show once more to the light of day that well-remembered face belonging to the good and great spirit that had been the presiding genius of Larchins for many a long year.

And now, moving like a ghost, or like one who walks in sleep, amid the dead and dim watches of the night, poor Minna came creeping down the stairs. The tears were hanging like dew upon her eyelashes, and in a wailing voice, she said — " Lionel— Lionel ! Oh, brother Lionel !" " Yes, Minna— yes: Come, dear— come !" She crept close up to him, and he placed his arm around her, and held her trembling form from falling. " Courage— have courage, dear Minna. This will soon be over ; but if you only knew— if you could only guess the burning wish that this is to me, you would rather urge me to this act." « j d0 — I do, Lionel. Look upon the dear face, and let as both pray to Heaven for its blessing, that we may' be like he was." " We will, Minna." " Hiff !" said Solomon, as he dashed tbe tears from " You cannot what ?" cried half a dozen voices.

" Let me implore you, none of you, to be so cruel as to reason with me upon this matter," added Lionel ; " but I feel that I cannot subdue the wish to look upon my father's face once again, even though it be in death. To look upon it in life even for one brief moment would have been a great joy to me ; but since that may not be, I must see it in death. Oh, my kind, good friends, do not deny me this. Do not try to turn me from such a purpose, I implore you." "Lionel! Lionel!" said Minna, " it will be too much for you. It will, Lionel." "No— no! It will not." "But, my dear boy," said Sir William, " only think " " I cannot think now — I can only feelthat there is a desire that I may not extinguish." " Then you shall be gratified," said Sir William. "It is a hard thing that a son should be denied a last look at his father in this world, dead or alive."

" No, no," said Cousin Cecil. " It cannot be. It is not right. Consider— it is far from proper." " It is decidedly wrong— m — m," said the Vicar. " It is without precedent," said Mr. Greene. " I don't recollect such a case." " It's natural," said Solomon. " What's that ?" They all listened, for an odd scuffling noise came upon their ears below. Lionel rushed to the door ofthe drawing-room and flung it open. One glance down the grand staircase showed him what the noise arose from. The coffin was being conveyed to the hearse, and in another moment it would be within that gloomy receptacle. " I will see my poor father yet," he cried. " He blessed me with his latest breath, and by that blessing I swear that I will see him." " Stop him !" cried Cousin Cecil. " It shall not be." Lionel dashed down the 'staircase, and the guests followed him in a dense throng.

Minna knelt upon the large landing-place by the drawing-room door, and sobbed. Cousin Cecil dragged the Vicar by the breast of his apparel down the stairs, exhorting him to stop Lionel in his proceedings ; but the youth bad reached the hall. " Hold !" he cried to the bearers of the coffin. " Place it here." They mechanically obeyed him. " Opon the coffin ! I will see my father's face yet, before the grave closes on it ! Open this narrow home of poor humanity, and let me but give one glance at those much-loved features. There is nothing shocking in those whom we love. I will not be thwarted in this. I swear by sacred heaven that I will have my way ! Who rules here in this house now ? My father is no more, and I, the son, stand forth and claim the right of obedience from all I" .... " My dear Lionel," said Cousin Cecil, taking him by the arm.

" My own dear Lionel, you will consider!" " I will not." " Good again," said Solomon. " Here's a screw driver. I'll do it." " You' wretch !" cried Cousin Cecil. " How dare you? What, are there no men here that can pre vent this headstrong boy, that broke his father's heart, from breaking open the coffin that contains the ground-floor of the house than that in which the corpse had been lying ; and now that the first spell binding feeling of the guests had passed away, every tongue became busy in conjectures as to the cause of the somewhat more than remarkable disappearance of the corpse. Cousin Cecil was conveyed to her own chamber, and Sir William dismissed the funeral cortege, which those persons who had been waiting at the churchyard to see arrive were not a little astounded to observe rattling off to town at a very unfuneral like pace The feeling that had kept everybody on the whisper at Larchins for days past, was, as if by the touch of the wand of an enchanter, dissipated ; and if one might have judged by the bustle and the confusion of voices in the house, some merry making might have brought the guests together rather than the solemn occasion that had been so strangely interrupted.

Sir William Watson, at the desire of Lionel, went among the guests, and got them to go away ; so that in a short time there were but Vicar Anson, Mr. Greene, and Sir William, at Larchins, besides tbe family, and the servants. Cousin Cecil sent her own maid with a message to Lionel to say that she would come to him as soon as she was sufficiently recovered to do so, begging him and Minna to keep up their spirits, for the sake of each other, and of lier ! Solomon waited until the waiting-maid had delivered her message, and then he politely handed her outside the door, and looked it. bis eyes, and tried to turn his feelings off into a sneeze. "A— a-ohewl a-chewl a— a That will do. Happy is the corpus that the rain rains on, and happy is the bri — i — ide that the — sun — a-chew ! — shines on.

The screws are all out, Master Lionel, but this one down at the foot, and — the — lid will elide off now." Minna clung closer to her brother with a convul sive shudder. The young man looked on sadly at the proceedings. Sir William Watson patted him gently on the arm, as though he would say, " Keep up, Lionel— keep up. I estimate your feelings pro perly." Cousin Cecil maintained that strange, fixed attitude she had assumed upon finding that her oppo sition to the opening of the coffin would be of no Avail. " Shall I ?" said Soloman, indicating, as he spoke, the coffin-lid, and moving his hands as though to remove it. " Shall I, Master Lionel ?" The young man nodded. He could not speak at that moment. There was a slight movement among the guests, and Soloman jerked the lid of the coffin right on one side.

It VMS empty ! With a sudden shriek, Cousin Cecil fell down in a swoon. " Gone 1" .shouted Solomon. The guests made a rush forward, and surrounded the coffin. Each one was eager to personally satisfy himself of the fact that it was empty, and in a few moments it was patent to all. Lionel stood transfixed. His lips moved ; but for a sew moments he could not speak. It was Minna, who, gathering from the ex clamations of those around her that the coffin was empty, and having ventured by one glance to assure herself of that fact, now cried out — " Lionel — brother Lionel — speak to me ! What is the meaning of this? Speak to me, Lionel! Brother — brother 1 Oh, say something tojrelieve me from this frightful suspense I" " Who has done this?" cried Lionel, in a voice that echoed through the hall and up the grand staircase.

" Who has done this ? I speak to all here present, and I conjure them to answer me, as this deed will have to be answered for at that great day when all must speak 1" No one spoke. Terror and amazement sat upon every face. " Where is my father?" added Lionel, in a strange, high cracked voice. "Dead or living, I come to 6eek my father. Oh, God ! where is he ?" " A hundred pounds," cried Sir William Watson, " to any one who will explain the meaning of all this!'' There was a confused murmur, but no one spoke aloud. The horses in the hearse that was at the door stamped upon the soft gravel impatiently, and the oily looking undertaker, with his mouth and eyes prertenaturally Wide open, looked the picture of dismay. " Why, there can't— not — no how — be not any — no — Funeral !" he gasped. " Help !— help I" cried Minna.

" Lionel faints !" Haifa-dozen arms were immediately stretched forth to support Lionel Danvers ; but he did not faint. It was only the reaction of the violent feelings that had taken possession of him that had for a moment or two made him weak and ill, and he rapidly recovered. Sir William, by the assistance of Minna, led him into another of the rooms upon " Master Lionel," he said, " that's trash ! Cousin Cecil is in her own room with the Parson, and the Lawyer - all Lawyers' rogues — some Parsons—per haps all. — Kick 'em out." Lionel understood that Solomon was rather ambitious of tbe job of clearing the house of Vicar Anson and Mr. Greene, but he said — " No, Solomon ; let them be. Cousin Cecil has sor so long now been a kind of mistress to the house, that I do not wish ungraciously to depose her.

Let her for the present have what visitors she may please. And now, Sir William, after thanking you, which I feel I ought to do, but cannot do sufficiently, for your kindness, can you tell me any thing, or imagine anything, by which I can com prehend the mystery of that empty coffin ?" " My dear boy, you may as well ask me to leap a five-bar gate on a donkey, as for any explanation of it. ' All I know of the whole affair is, that this day week I was hastily sent for to Larchins, and when I got here, I was told my old friend had just died in his bed." " Yes— yes," said Minna. " It was this day week." " The whole place was in confusion. The Colonel was too evidently dead to make any doctoring of any avail, though one was sent for from Hampton; but he found it was all over." Minna sighed. " And from that day to this I have heard nothing of it, but that the funeral was going to take place this morning."

"Yes," said Minna, "that was it. I was called to the bedside of poor father by Cousin Cecil, who had been awakened up early in the morning by his bell ringing violently. Alas! he waa dying; but OP FORTUNE. 7 he had time to bless you, Lionel, as I told you, and then be breathed his last." The door was opened, and Cousin Cecil made her appearance. Her eyes were red with weeping ; and making directly up to Lionel, she said — " Oh, dear Lionel, tell me what to think, and! you, too, my darling Minna, say something kind to me, or I shall lose my senses. What is the meaning of all this dreadful scene ? Where — oh, where are the beloved remains of my poor — poor uncle ?" " Gammon!" said Solomon. " I'll bowl you out — Beg pardon, it's a little fly in my left eye, I'm it speaking to." " And was screwed down two days after," said Solomon, " by Dick, the coffin-maker's 'prentice at Hampton."

" So I understood," said Minna, " and I wrote to you, dear Lionel. It is a happy thing the letter found you." " You know, Minna, that I was discarded by my father." " Yes, Lionel ; but I never knew what for. Cousin Cecil told me that she had interceded for you in vain ; but that your conduct had been so very bad, she did not dare to say much to father ; and when I asked her what it was, she only shook her head." CHAPTER UT. shows how dick, the coffin-maker's apprentice, COULD NOT SLEEP AT NIGHT, AND HOW HE BAN AWAY. _" She shall not shake her head at me," said Lionel, " for I will know it. I am completely in the dark as regards what I am accused of. Feeling myself, as I say, to be most innocent, except of a few follies, which I would, in five minutes, have confessed to our dear father, Minna, and in one more got forgiven for with a smile, I have done nothing.

I was yearning to come home and see you and him, when this letter came to me. Will you read it, Sir William?" "Yes, my boy, I will. Ah, dear, dear, there has been some foul play here ; but let me see — where are my barnacles ? Oh, here! All's right — Ah! — Hum! " Now, Dick, just run up into the loft, and see if Colonel Danvers' funeral has started from Larchins. Do you hear me, Dick, you young rascal? Did I take you from the parish, and make you a respectable apprentice to the art and mystery of coffin-making, for you to turn round upon your benefactor, and pretend to be deaf, you rascal ?— As Napoleon Bonaparte used to say, Bah !" Hsreupon, Mr. Nipps, the coffin-maker of Hamp ton, put himself into what he considered an attitude resembling Napoleon, and took a pinch of snuff. " Run up to the lost, I say, Dick — you can see right away up the avenue of Larchins— and tell me if the funeral has started, you villain ; for, as the Duke of Wellington very properly observes, I dont see why I should not know all about what happens in my own parish."

" Yes, sir, I'm a-going," said Dick. " Up in the loft, sir. I'm a going, sir — Oh — oh !" " Oh— oh! What do you mean by Oh, oh?" " Nothing, sir— It's — it's only a way I have got, sir, that's all — I'm going, sir — Oh, oh!" Dick — poor Dick! — he had no other name but Dick : the poorhouse foundling had not had the courage to give himself a surname ; and those that had been kindly bestowed upon him, were all of too opprobrious a character for him to think of adopting — laid down the hammer, and the handful of tacks he was tapping into a coffin-lid, and ascended a ladder to a loft, where were kept some choice elm planks in readiness for the good folks of Hampton, and its vicinity, when they should shuffle off their mortal coil, and step into a suit of wood. The boy's man ner was, to say the least of it, very odd ; for Dick was, upon ordinary occasions, a lively-enough youth, with a bright black eye, and a ruddy lip ; but now there was an aspect of woe-begone terror about him, and an ever-shifting of the eyes, which suffi ciently testified that all was not well within the little world of Dick's brain.

At odd times, too, when he thought that no one saw him, lie would make a despairing gesture with his hands ; and, as he had done in the hearing of Mr. Nipps his master, he would groan aloud ; for poor Dick was not, as yet, an adept in veiling either his griefs or joys. The boy shaded his eyes with his hand, and from the open door of the loft, he looked in the direction of Larchins. He shook his head. "Well, are they coming?" «' No, master." \ "No? Why, it's twenty minutes past twelrs " ' Lionel— God forgive you — I will try to do so, and I hope I shall be able. Your conduct has given me pangs worse than death ; but yet, you shall not be wholly deserted. My bankers will honour your cheque for sixty pounds in a year ; and as it would be too great a pain to me to see you, I do hope that the innocence of Minna, and my home, and my feelings, may not be brought into contact with you. — I am your sorrowing father, " ' Geosoe Danvers.' " When Sir William Watson finished reading this letter, be looked at Lionel, and then at Minna, and then at the letter, with amazement.

" Why, goodness gracious, boy, what did he take it into his old stupid head you had done ? Excuse me, both of you, for speaking so of him ; but we know each other so well, that we just always said anything that came uppermost. What can this letter allude to?" " That is the mystery," said Lionel, " Upon the receipt of it, I wrote to him at once, and by return of post, back it came to me, in a blank envelope, with the word ' Refused' upon the superscription of it. What was I to do?" " You ought to have come to me." " Yes, Lionel," said Minna, " you ought, in deed." " Ah 1 now I feel that I ought ; but we do not often, in painful emergencies, just do the thing we ought to do. In sadness and in sorrow, I left the country." " My poor Lionel," said Minna, " I did not know that so unkind a letter had been sent to you.

Is it really from our dear father ?" "Yes," said Sir William, shaking his head. " I know our old friend's hand too well to doubt it." Some one tried the door of the room. " Come in," said Solomon. truth to say, she had noticed Dick's black eyea and raven hair, and saucy-lookmg cherry lips, until perhaps Susan thought of Dick the ap prentice, when it would have been just as well for Susan to have thought of other things. " Oh, Susan— I mean Miss Susan— is that you?" said Dick, ruefully, as he gathered himself to his feet. " Yes, Dick. Pa eaid you were not well, and that you were coming to Ma for some of the dreadful—(here pretty Susan made a face)— stuff she calls the stomach-cordial. Are you not well, Dick ?" " Oh, yes. Bless you, Miss Susan— that is, Susan, I mean — Oh, how pretty — no, I don't mean that.

Oh, Susan, what would you think of a poor boy— who— (Dick looked round him in a scaled manner) — who should run away ?" "Runaway?" "Yes, Susan, I— thought— that is, you thought —no, I mean, that if it wasn't for you "Oh, Dick, what is the matter with you?" " Nothing," said Dick, bursting into tears. " No thing — but I can't sleep o' nights, and I can't work o' days; I can't eat my drink, nor swallow my food ; aud I can't stay here, even for the love of you, Susan — and I do lovo you — oh, I do, in deed! Bless you, Susan, and your pretty eyes, and your aear lips, and your lit— lit — little chin, and the pretty fingers, with the tips — tips — of — pearl oyster-shells for nails; and -and the dear love of a dimple just— just there by your cheek, where the red and the white — like an autumn apple — goes with a streaky beauty hand in hand — I — I —must run away !"

Dick sat upon a coffin with his face buried in his hands ; he wept, and Susan, with tearful sobs and the colour, that Dick had likened to the autumn apple, coming and going upon her cheek, went close up to him ; and she placed one of the rounded arms about his neck, and the little hand touched his cheek, and the gentle girl-like face was bent down to his. now, and they were t o start at twelve. Look again Dick. Ah, dear me, we are all grass— nothing bu grass! Do you see them?" " No master— Yes— that is— Oh, yes. They are coming — No, I mean going, sir — at a trot — right away on the London road. There they are, and the men are on the top of the hearse. Oh, oh, they have found it outl" " On the London road !" roared Mr. Nipps. " The London road. Why, goodness gracious, as Doctor Johnson would say, that's not the way to Hampton church."

" Gone, gone !" groaned Dick. Mr. Nipps was so astounded at the news that the funeral cortege had taken the London road at a trot, instead of the Hampton one at a creep, that he scrambled up the ladder himself, and took a long look, by which he managed just to get sight of the last mourning coach, as it disappeared round the first turn in the road that led direct to London. Mr. Nipps rubbed his eyes, as well he might, and then he looked at Dick, who stood trembling in the loft. Poor Dick was very pale, and he looked so unlike himself, that Mr. Nipps cried — " Why, what's tho matter with you ? Are you ill ?" " A little, sir." "Then go to Mrs. Nipps, as Field-Marshal Blucher would remark, and ask her for some stomach cordial. I will run up to Larchins, and know what's the matter. I have heard of weddings being put off, but never of funerals.

It's really most astonishing, as William Pitt might have remarked." Mr. Nipps made a rush into the house, and came out, with his arms in the sleeves of his best coat, which, after a struggle, he got fairly into ; aud then dashing his hat on his head, he went off to Larchins, at a half run, to ascertain the cause of the funeral not taking place according to arrange ment. Dick commenced bis monotonous hammering at the coffin-lid— tap, tap, tap — tap, tap, tap, tap — tap, tap, tap ; and then, after hitting his fingers three times, he threw down the hammer, and clasping his hands, he said — " I'll run away 1" Dick turned hastily, after the utterance of these words, and glanced all round the workshop. No one was at hand to listen to the mutinous resolve ; and then, in a lower tone, he repeated the words — " I'll run away !"

Dick got off his apron then, and for the third time he said— but it was in a low whisper — " I'll run away !" Dick got his hat off a peg in the wall with a jerk, and put it on his head. "They have found it outl" he said. "I can't stay ! They will see I am guilty by my looks. I must run away I Oh, Mr. Jarvis, why did you — Who's tliat? Oh, no— no! lam at work— I am, indeed — I — ain't going to run away aud list for a soldier in some small regiment — I — I " Dick retreated backward till he fell right over the coffin-lid that he had been ornamenting, and then, as he scrambled to his feet, the door of the workshop was opened, and a young girl came slowly into the place. She was not above fifteen years of age, was Susan Nipps, the coffin-maker's daughter, aud as pretty as a little Hebe ; aud, in " Dick— Dick— dear Dick 1" -& " Oh, no— no 1" " Poor Dick !