In the Bear's Grip [A novel.] ... Third edition

Front matter

F-V CHARLES H. EDEN — V- Author of ' Australia's Heroes,' 'Frozen Asia,' 'Queer Chums, etc., etc. ' Now, afore Heaven 'tis shame such things are borne.'— Richard III. THIRD EDITION EDEN, REMINGTON & CO., PUBLISHERS LONDON AND SYDNEY 1892 ALL RIGHTS RtCSHRVED CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE I. WARHAM MANOR, I II. GREAT ORMOND STREET, IO III. TAKEN UNAWARES, 1 5 IV. A WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING, . . 20 V. LADY RANDAL, 30 VI. A GAME AT ' NAP,' 36 VII. HOLMEWOOD, 45 VIII. *TY WALECIZNY?' 53 IX. LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP, .... 65 X. INTRIGUE, 70 XI. WITH THE NIHILISTS, . . 80 XII. A CRISIS, 89 XIII. THE ARREST, 99 XIV. IN THE BEAR'S GRIP, .... 107 XV. PLUNGING DEEPER, I17 XVI. AT BERNE, I25 XVII. CONFIDENCES, I34 VI CONTENTS CHAP. PiG"' XVIII. AT REST, J42 XIX. DISCLOSURES, x52 XX. TO THE RESCUE, x59 XXI. CRIMINAL OR HEROINE ? 1-66 XXII.

THE 'ZEPHYR,' 17^ XXIII. THE DESERTED MINE, . . . .187 XXIV. THE ONLY ALTERNATIVE, . . . 199 XXV. THE GOVERNOR OF KRIELF, . . . 2IO XXVI. FATHER AND DAUGHTER. . . .223 XXVII. THE FUGITIVES, ..... 234 XXVIII. ALONE, 245 XXIX. SAVED, 256 XXX. DORYNKA, 268 XXXI. THE PEDLER, 28o XXXII. A SUMMONS, 29 1 XXXIII. THE RETURN, 299 XXXIV. ALARMING RUMOURS, . . . .307 XXXV. BETRAYED, . . . , . . 32O XXXVI. OUTWITTED, 330 XXXVII. THE RIOT, 342 XXXVIII. RE-UNITED, 35! CONCLUSION, 3O1

Preface

Six years ago a very small Three Volume Edition of this novel, under the name of ' George Donnington ' was issued by Messrs Chapman & Hall. It is now reprinted in a slightly abridged form, under its second and far more suitable title — 'In the Bear's Grip.' C. H. EDiiN.

Chapter I Warham

manor Near the bedroom window, adjusting his necktie, and whistling unconsciously the while, stood a lad of nineteen, upon whose face a pleased smile arose as the sun broke out from behind a somewhat threatening bank of clouds, whilst at the same moment a short thick-set man, clad in vel veteen much the worse for use, and the invariable leather leggings that form part and parcel of every true game keeper's equipment, emerged from behind a thicket of laurels and stood for an instant looking skywards. The lad immediately threw open his window and hailed the man in a voice that betrayed considerable excitement. ' Good-morning, Aldham. What is the weather going to be like ? Will the birds lie ? ' These questions were uttered rapidly ; the speaker's tone indicating that a favourable answer must as a matter of course be returned to each ; but the gamekeeper was not given to loquacity, and very chary of definitely committing himself on any subject — perhaps also he enjoyed holding his young master in suspense . therefore he continued his survey of the heavens for some seconds before touching his hat in reply. ' Can't tell yet, Muster George, whether it be going tc rain or no ; but likely the birds will lie if it holds up.' ' I could have told you that,' returned the lad, pettishly, A on receiving this oracular forecast. ' You always like to paint things in their worst colours, Aldham.' But here a window immediately beneath that at which the young man stood was violently thrown open, and a petulant voice, at the sound of which the keeper judiciously vanished, exclaimed, ' If you wish to give Aldham any further orders, George, be good enough to do so in the servants' hall or the stables.

To hear you one would think you were hailing the maintop of a lirre-of-battle ship. Because it is the first of September you think the whole house is to ' but the remainder of this gracious speech was lost by the abrupt closing of the speaker's window. ' The governor in one of his tantrums again,' muttered the lad, composedly, whilst resuming his interrupted toilette. ' Dear old fellow, what can have changed him so of late ? he never used to be like this.' But the sound of a gong ringing through the house announced that breakfast was on the table, and thrusting himself into his shooting-coat George Donnington hurried down stairs and burst into the dining-room. Here he found two persons : a beautiful little maiden of some fifteen summers and a neatly-dressed middle-aged lady, who united the functions of a governess to those of a comptroller of the household, for Warham Manor had lost its natural mistress some ten years before. ' What can be the matter with the governor ? ' asked the young man after taking his seat. ' He assailed me from his bedroom-window for speaking to old Aldham.

He has quite altered lately; the least thing seems to vex him and put him into an ill-temper wholly disproportionate to the cause of offence. I confess that I don't like to see it. Have neither of you observed it ? ' he continued, turning his eyes from Miss Ridley to his sister. 1 1 have,' said the latter, without hesitation. But further remarks were checked by the entry of the person in question. With a slight bow to the governess and a careless nod in acknowledgment of the greeting with which his children welcomed him, Sir Ralph took his chair helped himself to an egg, the shell of which he cracked in an absent manner, and then took refuge in The Times which, duly cut and ironed, had been laid beside his plate! An unwonted silence prevailed, produced by the presence of WARHAM MANOR 3 the person of whom all had last spoken, but George soon broke the spell. ' Do you intend handling a gun to-day, father ? ' he asked. ' Handling a gun ! ' repeated the older man, vacantly, and drumming aimlessly on the table as he seemed to collect his faculties to answer the simple question. ' Handling a gun !

Oh, yes; to-day is sacred to St Partridge. No, George, I shall leave them to you, and hope that you will find the birds plentiful. Aldham told me they were very strong on the wing this year.' The tone in which the words were uttered was sad and broken, as though some heavy trouble weighed upon the speaker, but a ring of genuine affection ran through them, a circumstance so unusual of late that the young man rose, and, passing over, laid his hand gently on the baronet's shoulder. ' Why not come out, father ? ' he said, coaxingly. ' Old Aldham will be delighted to see you amongst the turnips again. It won't look like a real first of September without you.' ' Make the most of it, my boy; for who knows where we shall be this time next year ? ' His tone was sad and his eyes were fixed vacantly on the window, whilst his fingers kept up the same nervous drum ming on the cloth. ' You are eating nothing, Sir Ralph,' said Miss Ridley, ' and your coffee is quite cold.

Let me give you another cup.' ' No, thank you,' he replied, listlessly ; but immediately recovering his animation he continued, ' Is not that young Dick Aldham with the letter-bag ? Look, George ; Eva, you have good eves — there, just in the bend beyond the bridge.' 'Yes, there he is sure enough; shall I run and hurry him, papa ? ' and before anyone could answer the girl had thrown open the French window and darted forth hatless, her long locks floating back over her shapely shoulders ; a sight, in deed, to delight the heart of any father, but only intense anxiety and impatience were visible in the baronet's face as he watched the lithe young form draw near the tardy mail man, tear his burden from him, and return at racing speed, throwing the bag recklessly before her as, with a little shout of triumph, she burst into the room.

With hands that trembled from eagerness Sir Ralph unlocked the leather bag and pulled forth its contents. Two for Miss Ridley, one for Eva, and nearly a dozen for the master of the house. 'Well, I may as well be off,' said George, seeing his com panions all engrossed with their missives. ' What, another letter from Laura Barnard, Evy ? I thought she had given you up since her engagement.' ' Not a bit ! ' cried the girl, joyously, as she mastered the contents. ' Laura is to be married in two months, and she has asked me to be one of the bridesmaids. Oh, how jolly ! and Miss Ridley, there will be six of us and we are to be dressed all alike in — but what is the matter with papa ? ' — a groan, almost a shriek, awful to hear from the world of mental agony it revealed, called the attention of all three to the baronet, who, an open letter in his hand, first swayed helplessly to and fro, and then, before anyone could advance to his assistance, fell heavily to the ground. + Two months have passed away and still we are at Warbam Manor, but a sad change has come over the quiet old country seat since that September morning when George was going forth to slaughter the partridges.

Seven weeks have elapsed since Sir Ralph was laid in the family vault, and now three persons dressed in deep mourning, are sitting before dinner in the small but comfortable scboolroom, for the larger apartments in their desolation seemed gloomy and dispiriting to both brother and sister and to Miss Ridley. Sorrow and care were plainly written on the faces of the two younger of the party, and the words that were from time to time ex changed showed that they were awaiting the arrival of some one, until which event nothing could be considered as settled. ' At what time did Mr Bonham say he would reach Hills dene ? ' asked Miss Ridley, looking at her watch. ' It is past seven now.' 'He was to leave Paddington at 4.35. Hush ! don't you hear wheels ? ' The new arrival was not wholly unknown to any of the party, for he had several times previously visited Warham Manor ; had indeed been present at Sir Ralph's funeral, and at the reading of the will, by which he was appointed sole WARHAM MANOR 5 executor, as well as guardian to the children.

But on the latter melancholy occasion his stay had been short, and, respecting the natural grief of the orphans, he had said little or nothing to them except a few words of encouragement and advice. ' I shall run down again,' he had told George on leaving, ' as soon as I have put your poor father's affairs in order; meanwhile, you and your sister had better remain on here quietly with Miss Ridley.' The visitor's manner during dinner tended little to remove the constraint that his presence imposed, but this was apparently unnoticed by the guest, who applied himself to his food with much assiduity and equanimity, such con versation as he ventilated turning chiefly on the mismanage ment of railway officials and the enormities committed unchecked by their directors. Had anyone told the listeners that Mr Bonham felt nervous in their presence, such a person would have been assuredly disbelieved, and yet such was the case.

He was a very undemonstrative man, and for this reason a man with few friends — so few, indeed, that, without difficulty, he could number them on the fingers of one hand. Possessed of deep passions, held under such stern control that few suspected their existence, Andrew Bonham was a man upon whom the love of woman would have exercised a powerful influence for good or evil. Such love he had once thought his, but it was not to be. It was in the very room where he was now sitting at dinner that he first met Emily Donnington. When an undergraduate at Oxford, he had come down with his college-chum, Ralph, to shoot the Warham coverts, Emily, then in her seventeenth year, and on the point of emancipation from the schoolroom, fairly charmed away the heart of her brother's friend, with whom, by that brother's connivance, she was thrown into close contact.

The girl was wholly ignorant of the conquest she had made, but when before his departure Andrew avowed his love the scales fell from her eyes, and she saw the mischief she had wrought. With a concentrated earnestness begotten of his deep passion, Andrew pressed his suit, asking only for hope — one ray of hope, on which he might live until he had shown himself worthy of her. It was in vain. Gently but re solutely the young beauty declined him, and held out no particle of encouragement for the future. 'Let us at least part friends,' the girl had said; but Andrew had made no response, nor had he seemed to see the proffered hand. Friendship was too cold a substitute for the affection he had lavished on one who had shown herself no better than a practised coquette; he left the Manor suddenly that night for the Continent, and had never since set eyes upon the woman to whom he attributed the wreck of his domestic happiness.

On finding out what had occurred Ralph became furious with his sister, more particularly when she showed a marked pleasure in the attentions of Sir Edward Randal, a young man of great personal attractions, and highly endowed with the good things of this life, but one whom Ralph knew to be worldly, selfish, mean, and utterly incapable of rendering his sister's life other than miserable. In vain he entreated her to think of the jewel she was casting away in rejecting Andrew Bonham, and pointed out the difference between the characters of the two men. The girl was obstinate, self willed, and determined, besides being really captivated by Randal's manners, and perhaps a little influenced by his wealth and position in tbe county, so a serious quarrel arose between brother and sister, a breach which remained un healed until the day of the former's death.

Andrew's father was a City merchant of high standing, the head of a large house in Leadenhall Street, with connec tions extending over a great portion of the globe, but whose chief interests lay in tbe Russian trade. On his return to England the young man set zealously to work, and thrust himself heart and soul into the business. He became known throughout the city as a most able man; and since his father's death, when the whole management of the concern devolved upon him, he had greatly extended the operations of the house, and rendered the name of Andrew Bonham one of European repute. Immersed in large transactions, he had seldom time to spare for visits, but whenever the occasion presented itself he ran down to Warham and saw his old friend. Now he found a new burden laid upon him by the sudden death of Sir Ralph, but he loyally accepted it, and had worked unwearyingly in clearing away the difficulties that beset his path as guardian to the two children. whom he soon discovered were wholly unprovided for.

Miss Ridley and Eva had withdrawn ; the wine and dessert were on the table, and the guardian and ward were alone the time had arrived for the former to speak out and dis- WARHAM MANOR 7 burthen himself of the bad news that for weeks had lain heavily on his mind. ' George,' he began, gravely, ' I have many things to tell you of; and God knows that, as your poor father's oldest friend, I wish that my communications were other than they must be. You are almost a man now, therefore you must call up a man's courage to face the future before you. My sad tale will not take long, for alas ! the circumstances are such that two words will convey them better than a volume. I have disentangled your father's affairs as far as possible, and I find no words to express the result but total ruin — ' Here he paused and steadily observed his companion; but though the young man's face visibly blanched, and his hand nervously grasped the handle of the knife before him, he met the speaker's gaze unflinchingly and proudly. ' There is the right stuff in the lad,' thought the old merchant ; but he continued, ' Yes, George, total ruin.

Your poor father was led by designing men into a series of rash speculations, each one of which has turned out more disastrous than the last; but the final blow was given by the failure of a great nortbern bank, in which my poor friend held shares. This last conduced to his death, for he saw in it total ruin.' Another pause of some duration now took place, the older man watching the younger, the latter slowly recover ing colour though his features were set rigidly. 'It is, believe me, hard news to tell, George, and still harder to bear,' continued Andrew Bonham, ' and you have borne it most gallantly. You now know the worst, and I will leave it to you to break it to your sister and Miss Ridley. I have not left your future out of consideration, but shall enter into no details to-night. When the first stunning effect of this intelligence has passed away you will see whether you think my proposals worthy of consideration.

Now, with your permission, I will go to bed.' After breakfast on the following morning George joined Mr Bonham, who was smoking a cigar as he paced up and down the broad terrace. ' I need not ask whether you have broken the bad news to your sister,' remarked the latter. ' That was evident to me at breakfast; but, George, I must congratulate you on the noble way in whicb you bear a blow that would prostrate many a stouter man.' ' It certainly is not pleasant to be a penniless baronet, said the young man, trying to force a smile, ' but that is a matter easily mended. Both Eva and I are anxious to know as soon as possible what plans you have thought of for our future. She is a child and unable to do much, but I am young and strong, sir, and no amount of work would frighten me.' From the moment that Andrew had learned the circum stances of his wards he had racked his brains as to what could be done with and for them.

He had thought of pre tending that the estate produced surplus sufficient to send the lad to Oxford and complete the girl's education, but the very fondness with which he cherished the memory of his lost friend made him shrink from this innocent deception, for he knew how bitterly the pride of the dead man would have suffered had he thought that his children would be reduced to eat the bread of charity. A plan by which they would be comfortably and hand somely provided for had indeed offered itself, but it presented many objections to Andrew. On her brother's death Lady Randal had written to him, questioning him con cerning the orphans, and begging tbat Morecambe Park might be their home until affairs were arranged. In reply — bow the letter and its handwriting had moved him ! — Andrew had been compelled to acknowledge that they were utterly destitute ; whereupon, after the lapse of several days — which the old merchant shrewdly suspected had been occupied in inducing Sir Edward to take a favourable view of the proposal — came another letter offering to receive both the young people, and expressing their aunt's willingness to defray George's expenses at the University.

That Sir Ralph would have scouted the idea of his child ren living beneath the same roof with Sir Edward Randal the merchant well knew, but still her aunt was the most natural protector for the girl at least. What should he do ? Much depended on the young people themselves. If they showed total inaptitude to help themselves, by far their best course would be to embrace Lady Randal's offer, although he felt sure that even then their lot would be an unhappy one, for many stories were rife in the clubs of Sir Edward's violent temper, and more than one whisper had gone abroad that the conjugal relations between the baronet and his wife were far from pleasant. In truth Andrew Bonham was WAR HAM MANOR 9 puzzled exceedingly. His own idea was to offer George a desk in his office, and, having tested the young man's ability, to push him quietly forward until he could become a partner.

But would the lad embrace a mercantile career, handicapped moreover as he was by the unlucky prefix to his name ? The girl was more easily disposed of. Her education was still unfinished, and it so happened that Andrew was a governor of one of the best schools in Yorkshire, where she would receive every care and advantage at a very small cost. This, his own project, was in the merchant's opinion much the best. If tbe lad took kindly to the work he would in a few years be independent, and moreover feel the satisfaction that he had become so by his own exertions. Had he back bone enough in his character to carry him through the sub ordinate stages ? There lay the gist of the question, and, finally, weary of turning the matter over and over in his own mind, Andrew resolved to lay both proposals before George, and to leave the decision entirely with the young people.

Therefore, on that November morning, Andrew fairly and justly made known both plans, but kept entire silence regarding his intentions of furthering George's career, and, in his anxiety to show perfect neutrality, perhaps unduly en larged on the advantages of Lady Randal's offer. ' Take a week to consider it,' he concluded. ' Consult both ;your sister and Miss Ridley, for she is a sensible woman. Do not make up your mind in a hurry, and jump at a determination that you may hereafter regret.' The lad, who had listened with bowed head and in total silence to his guardian's words, now raised his face, and Andrew saw imprinted on every feature a look of determination not unmingled with pride, as in a firm voice he replied, ' Neither time nor consultation are needed, Mr Bonham, for Eva and I have resolved to fight our own way in the world, as our poor father would have wished his children to do.

We are most grateful to you, and are ready to leave War ham, if necessary, to-morrow.' ' Bravely resolved ! ' cried Andrew, driven out of his habitual reserve by the handsome young face that met his gaze so steadily. ' Stick to this, my boy, and Warham shall yet be yours again.' In early life the late baronet had been known as Ralph Donnington, but a distant relation had left him a considerable sum of money conditional on his bearing the surname of Percival after his own. This circumstance was now of use to the orphans; and ten days after the above conversation, George Donnington — he had steadily refused to bear his title — became the occupant of a small desk and high stool in Leadenhall Street ; while Eva was safely installed in Throstle House, near Wakefield, under the care of the Misses Quilter, very dragons of propriety, outrivalling in this respect Miss Ridley herself. The latter lady returned to her friends, and will reappear no more in these pages.

Chapter II Great Ormond Street

Different, indeed, was George's present life from that which he had hitherto been accustomed to lead. He had taken a couple of small rooms on the second floor in a house in Great Ormond Street, the landlady of which had been strongly recommended by Mr Nugget, the cashier, who in his days of single bliss, had lodged there. Bravely as the lad bore up it must not be supposed that the sudden change in his position had not affected him deeply, or that he could accommodate himself without repining to underbred companions, dingy lodgings, and their accompanying dis comforts. Many a time did the devil tempt him to sally forth and join some of his fellow-clerks in their foolish but not vicious midnight frolics. These harmless young Lotharios seemed to lead a happy enough life on their scanty salaries, yet he shrank instinctively from their companionship; and, though ready enough to listen patiently to the recital of their revelries, he could never be brought to join in them, and would have been doubtless dubbed a milksop had he not shown on more than one occasion that, if slow at takino offence, he was prompt enough in resenting an injury, and always ready to take his own part.

Luckily he had plenty of books, and the companionship afforded by these in some measure recompensed him; still the winter evenings were dull and dreary and at times he felt indescribably°lonely Without letting it be known that he did so the merchant kept a careful watch over his ward, and soon saw that he GREAT ORMOND STREET 11 need entertain little anxiety regarding his future, for now, having surmounted the preliminary stages of his mercantile education, George had begun to take an interest in his work and showed a great desire to master all its details. It has been already mentioned that the house of Andrew Bonham had commercial relations with most parts of the world, and particularly with Russia, and George's services had on more than one occasion been useful when French or German clients had called in the absence of the clerks belonging to those nations.

Early in life he had displayed a singular aptitude for languages; and now, seeing how useful these would be to him, and what a lift a knowledge of them would give, he determined to brush up his French and German, with both of which he had already a very fair acquaintance, and then to devote himself to the study of a far more difficult language than either — Russian. How to carry out these plans he hardly knew, for the foreign clerks attached to the house were a very supercilious set of young gentlemen and not at all disposed to impart their gifts to one who might in the future become a formidable rival. But Providence provided a Dens ex machind in this wise : On reaching his home one afternoon George found that a new lodger bad taken the drawing-room floor and, through the landlady, he was enabled to render several trifling services to the stranger.

On the following evening he was sitting in his arm-chair, reading and smoking, when a heavy footstep was heard ascending the stairs, followed by a smart rap at the door, which immediately opened, and a man with a long, bushy beard appeared. ' Good evening, Mr Donnington,' cried the new comer, smiling, ' I have come to thank you for all your kindness. Donnington ! — Donnington ! ' — he continued, slowly, ' surely that is an old Yorkshire name that seems familiar to me.' 'Won't you sit down ? ' said George, who was taken with the man's manner. 'Here is tobacco and plenty of pipes — cigars, I regret to say, I cannot offer you. Yes, we are from the north country originally,' he continued; ' but my grand father moved south, and I know nothing of the old country.' The stranger had taken the offered seat, had selected, filled, and lighted the oldest of George's pipes, and now took up the book that the latter had been reading on his entry. ' Ah ! ' he exclaimed, " Nathan der Weise," a magnificent drama— one of Lessing's best, I think.

I saw* admirably put on the stage at Vienna some few years ago. The speaker was a man of about forty, plainly, though neatly dressed, but, from his tone, evidently a gentleman, and, if appearances did not belie him, a soldier, and a cavalry man to boot. He saw that his host was embarrassed, and, at a loss how to continue the conversation, so commenced readincr aloud the beautiful passage where Recha describes her preservation from fire by the Templar. ' You should have heard Louise Steinberg deliver that speech, and you would have long remembered it.' He had recited the few lines with an ease, precision, and purity of accent that called forth the admiration of his listener, at which, however, he only laughed pleasantly, and, seeming to read the curiosity that manifested itself in his companion's countenance, he said, quietly : ' A thousand to one that I can guess what is passing in your thoughts at this moment.

You are wondering who I am, and how I come to speak German so fluently. My name is Frederick Coventry — usually abbreviated to Fred or Fritz — and I am the second son of a good old Yorkshire family. I need not trouble you with the circumstances, but I quarrelled with my people — with both my father and brother — so I ran away from home and enlisted in an Austrian cavalry regiment. During the Franco-Austrian war I saw a little service, and was present at both Magenta and Solferino; but soon after the conclusion of peace I stumbled across an advertisement in an old English paper, which stated that if Frederick Coventry would communicate with certain gentlemen in Staple Inn it would be to his advantage. I wrote to England at once, and heard in reply that my poor father had died eighteen months before, leaving me a legacy of twenty thousand pounds.