The Blue Dwarf. A novel ... Illustrated, etc

Chapter I. Shadows On The Wall

Shadows on the wall ! pale, flitting shadows, that come one cannot say whence, andjyt it, ig vain to say where. /T - \_^''''. It has been going on for some time. The house is vast, and full of intricate and winding passages, like many of the antique mansions of the wealthy, more frequent half a century ago than now. It had been built at various periods, some of peace and plenty, others jstf rapine and plunder. Ample provision had No. 1. dark race the clouds over the gloomy heavens, while in the far distance rolls the thunder-blast, as a short active figure is seen to push his way through a dense thicket that skirted the lawn in front of the lordly mansion of the Blakesley 's, of Blakesley Hall. The lawn was swiftly crossed, and the figure might have been seen to halt at an angle of the house.

Then it stooped, and picked up a handful of gravel, which it cast upward against a window ou the first floor. been made for both contingencies. There were splendid halls, banquetting rooms, numerous offices, kitchens where an ox might have been roasted whole, aud dark and gloomy passages, trap doors, secret rooms, where the persecuted and the oppressed, as well as the conspirator and the evil doer, might conceal themselves from tyranny as well as from justice. But we are now in the broad light of humau freedom and modern civilisation. We have not reached the days of Victoria, when liberty, save where shackled by a remnant of feudalism, has grown up to be au example to the wide universe ; but still we are speaking of a period when, in comparison of other nations and other I] our country was free from the necessity of moated castle3, dangerous trap doors and secret passages.

The window was opened, and a head pro truded. " Is that j-on, Dick ? " said a hushed voice from below. "All right, Sir Edgar,'' replied tho other, in the same toue. No answer was given, but the first speaker held out his hand, and something fell out upSu the lawn. But never does the evil which is in the human heart die out. Long after such appliances as belong to another age are rejected by public opinion will they be made instruments of private vengeance, profligacy, and lust of wealth aud power. Who is this comes down those abrupt steps, shading the light from his lanthorn with his hand, his face pale and livid, his ears drinking in every sound, his eyes devouring the space before him, and his figure casting dark shadows ou the wall ? It is so every uighf; now, in the old hall — and why ?

Treading with extreme caution, he stands upon a carpeted passage, along which he glides more like a ghost than a human being, until he reaches a doorway. Here he sets down his lanthorn and listens at the key-hole. It was a ladder of ropes. The person below at once began his ascent, usinp; great caution ; and in a minute more the window was shut, aud all still without. The two persons who met iu this mysterious aud clandestine way, now stood face to face in a large aud handsome bed room, illumined with one caudle only. They were lads about the same age, and not unlike, both in form and figure. They were about fifteen years of age, the one called Sir Edgar being a little slighter than the other, while his hair was darker, and his eyes of a brown tint. It was a fine, open, manly face, beaming with animation and life, though touched with a shade of gloom — perhaps the produce of recent sickness.

Not a sound. The lad addressed as Dick, though so like him as to cause much whispering as to his parent age, had a degree of cunning in his countenance which caused its expression to be far from winning, or even commonly pleasant. They were foster brothers, and until within twelye months had been brought up together, enjoying the same masters, and receiving one as much care in education as the other. The handle is turned, and in stalks the midnight prowler, still with strangely light step — his feet are covered with list shoes — and ap proaches a bed. It is a splendidly furnished apartment, and the bed is a large antique four poster. Its occupant is a handsome youth of about fifteen or sixteen. The man, be his iuteutions what they may, looks sternly on for a few minutes, and per ceiving that the other slept souudly, took up a bottle from off a small table beside his bed, aud hastily concealing it, replaced it by another, lie then left the room with equal caution, and was seen no more in that apartment for the night.

Shadows on the wall again ! But, heavens ! what is it ? _ From beneath the bed crawls forth a being, which on its hands and knees so closely resembles an animal as to be taken for one at a superficial glance. The light in the room from a shaded lamp is so dim, that its real character can scarcely be detected. With a low chuckle it pushed forth its hand, as it appeared to be, clutched the bottle which had been left by the first intruder, replaced it by another, and then standing upright, walked across the room into the deep shadow at its other extremity. A faint clink was heard, and then again all was still, and the sleeper was alone * » « « " Well, Dick," said Sir Edgar, " how much ?" " Twelve pounds," replied the lad Richard. " That will do," continued the other. " Aud now, the sooner we start the better.'' " But are you sure," continued the other, " that you have everything all right ?

I have made inquiries, and for you to be received in the royal navy you must have doouments to prove your identity." " I have them all," said Sir Edgar sadly, "my father's certificate of marriage, that of my birth ; while as to my personal identity there can be no doubt." " AU right !" said Dick heartily, " that's the identical thing. What say you ? shall we start '{" " The sooner the better, never to re-enter this house until I come as master, to avenge my wrongs,''- said the other solemnly. As many others have done before him, and will again, Sir Edgar Blakesley was flying from his home, to seek his fortunes at sea, because his mother had chosen to give him a ctikI, rapacious, and harsh step-father. Affecting no disguise, they descended by the Loud howls the storm ou river aud plain ■ rope ladder, and left it a witness of their flight.

Out into the dark night they went, creeping like malefactors. The lawn was soon gained, and the two lads hurried across it, never so much as looking back until tbe plantation was reached. They theu struck aeros3 a beaten path, nor halted until a good three miles of ground intervened between them and tho mansion from which they were hurrying. They were ou a high road, at no great distance from which stood a deserted mill house. It was in a Httle valley surrounded by brush and tre6s. It was a crumbling ruin, moss-grown, and almost roofless. glance took the place of the half respectful look which ho had hitherto assumed. "At last ! I've waited long enough," he said, wiping the cold perspiration off his brow. " Does the fool think I am always going to lackey him ? My turn now, Sir Edgar Blakesley, baronet."

Aud with calm deliberation he searched the recumbent body, and took away the pocket book, the money which he had sold the other's watch for, a cheque which had been his father's last gift, and which not a soul kuew of, and then slowly, and with horrid deliberation, took out a clasped knife, opened it, and plunged it up to the haft in the body of his unfortunate foster brother — his half brother even, some said. To this, by previous agreement, the lads took their way, as it was settled they were to take the coach which passed ou that road a little after daybreak. Dick appeared to know the place well enough, a3 did indeed Sir Edgar, the valley sinco the abandonment of the mill having become a com plete rabbit warren. They were then soon within its gloomy precincts, when the lad Dick produced a leaden box and a lanthorn, which he had conveyed thither for the purpose, and looked around, not without a strange sensation of awe.

Then with a howl like that of a famished wolf, out went this second Cain into the open air, without once looking behind. He dared not. But a yell so fearful, it seemed to glue him to the ground, made him halt and fancy his wretched victim was up and after him. But no. All is still. No sound is heard but the footsteps of the murderer as he courses down the valley, eager to place hundreds of miles it' possible between himself and the scene of this most unparalleled crime. It was daylight when he halted on the out skirts of a small town, and lay down for rest and shelter in an outhouse. But he could nut sleep. There by his couch stood the spectral form which, until death benumbs his faculties, shall haunt him day and night, and for ever deprive him of the power of peaceful sleep. They had never before been there at night, and it was rumoured that the cause of desertion had been that a barbarous murder had been committed there many years before.

It was a large room, with a vast fireplace ; the roof had fallen in in several places, while the wind howled and whistled through the frequent crannies and fissures of the wall; while a low moaning, that sounded like mortal breathing, came distinctly to their ears. " The place seems haunted," said Sir Edgar, in a low, hushed tone.

Chapter II. Bob Griggs

" Nonsense, " replied Dick, not without a shudder, while he glanced round with a strange scared look. The streets of Portsmouth presented all that busy appearance which only appertains to sea ports in time of war. The harbour was full of vessels, while the streets presented a singularly animated and lively spectacle. Officers iu uniform hurried hither and thither, sailors crowded round every tavern, girls in flaunting dresses displayed their bronzed faces at every corner, while the Jews and other dealers plied their profitable trade. " Oh, I'm not going to be frightened, Dick," continued the runaway. " A pretty sailor I'd make if I was afraid of ghosts. But as Peter would say, the place is no cannic, and I shan't feel comfortable until I'm well out of it." Is there then such a thing as second sight ? and does the appalled soul ou the threshold of the grave sec beyond the veil of futurity, into shadow-land ?

Round the celebrated George Inn there were congregated a group of officers of all ranks, for several commanders of vessels were seated within, finishing up all their arrangements pre paratory to immediate departure. It was early iu the day, and the London coach was expected. Several of those juvenile sucking Nelsons, as they are often popularly called, were expected down to join their ships. The London coach was indeed coming down loaded with its valuable freight, among whom might be distinguished numerous youths leaving home for the first time, and looking as if they scarcely knew whether to' laugh or cry, as they thought of the home they were leaving, or looked forward to a glorious and brilliant career. Among the party was one who joined not in the general conversation. He too was a youth, Dick made no reply, but taking out a case bottle, poured out above a wine glassful into a tin cup, and handed it to Sir Edgar.

" Drink, " he said, " that will give you courage." Sir Edgar took the proffered glass, and drained it off. It was brandy, and appeared to revive him. But still he did not seem talkative. He was thinking of the bold and daring step which had so suddenly deprived him of a home and sent him furth upon the world, an outcast and a wanderer. Dick looked keenly at him, until the youth sank slowly back in a heavy and death-like slumber. " At last I" said the other, with a deep sigh," and the entire expression of his face changed as if by magic. A fierce, hungry, ferocious "I'll fetch it," replied the lad ; " I don't want the girl to see me playing." . 3 In an incredibly short space of time ne again in the room, with two steaming hot g of brandy, one of which he eagerly ba°?e(.me his opponent, and then resumed play. * -t the stake was a guinea.

To all appearance was his last. .. _ it,;, Tlie lad played with extreme caution mis time, for it was a desperate emergency- J sailor appeared more careless of the resui^ , had he not won everthing hitherto ? The game soon came to au end. The youthful countryman but his smock frock, fiery red hair, and strange uncouth appearance, appeared to stamp him as one who was likely, if he went to sea at all, to find himself located among the more humble herd in the forecastle. He scarcely made any response to the banter of some of the youngsters, except through his eyes, which glared horridly around when any jest hit him unusually hard. The coach stopped a few miles out of Ports mouth, and the countryman alighted, paid his fare, and entering an inn sat down in the tap room. He looked with a careless glance around, and found that it was tenanted by one man only, a sailor of a rather sinister aspect, heightened by the fact of his having only one eye.

"What cheer, my hearty ?" said the British tar after a rather long examination ; " and where do you hail from ?" " Don't hail from nowhere," replied the other with a grin, " and I wants some bread and cheese." l0" I'll play no more," he said, throwing down' the cards and the guinea. „?nkinff "Just as you like," replied the tar, winking with his one eye ; « here's better luck next ; taae. "Better luck," said the other gravely as he pledged him in return. _-„j iu. The sailor drained off his glass, and wiped the perspiration from his face with his silk bandana. The lad was seized with a violent fit of coughing, and spilt his grog. , , . "Take it easy, my little hearty You ve lost like a brick. Luck's all ; aud next time you see if you don't make a fortin'. Always pay for laming, you know. How mighty sleepy I am, he said yawning.

" Give us your flipper, 1 11 go to bed." . . ... Here he stopped suddenly, his under-jaw fell, and he lay back almost as if suddenly stricken with death. Quick as lightning the lad sprang forward, and clutched a canvas bag which he had seen the other put in his pocket, and secreted it about his own person, the man staring at him with open eyes all the time, but whether conscious of what was going on could not be said. No sooner had the other performed this feat, than he rose, took his bundle, and went forth, quite unobserved by any. He hurried along the room for some little time, until he noticed a barn in the distance. To this he hurried, de termined there to remain uutil nightfall. He found it open and vacant, and seating himself, counted his money. There were fourteen guineas and about as many shillings in the canvas bag.

He had made a clear profit by the day's transaction. With a satisfied smile he lay down to sleep, and in a few minutes be was in the land of dreams. " Pull away at the bell," continued the other, "and the bottle-washer will be here in a jiffy." The lad did as he was directed, and a girl with ruddy face and bare arms entered. The youth ordered bread and cheese and beer, and asked the strauger what he would take. " You are a Trojan,' ' he cried with sudden animation ; " Susan, my love, a stiff nor-wester. Brandy, and none of your half-water grog." The girl appeared to linger, as if in doubt. " Do you want the money ?" said the lad, with an angry contraction of the eyebrows. " Well sir, — the brandy's a shilling, and — " " Bring me change for a guinea," he inter rupted, handing her the coin. The girl hurried from the room, and the one eye of the sailor glistened.

He remained silent for some time, apparently revolving in his mind some plan of operations. The drink was brought in, and was duly honoured. The sailor then waited until the lad had eaten his bread and cheese, when he ouce more opened the con versation. " Its my turn, now mate," he said ; " what say you ? let's play for two stiff uns at cards." " I aint much of a player," replied the lad. " Its all luck," said the other, producing a greasy pack of cards. They were shuffled, cut, dealt, and then for some little time there was nothing heard but the mystic slang of the recondite game of all fours. The sailor lost, cursed his ill luck, and played again. They had now begun to play for money. The lad's eyes glistened, his face was flushed, his finger moved in a nervous and tremulous way, which at once proclaimed the incipient gambler.

The sailor saw this at a glance, and raised the stakes to five shillings. The countryman — orrather,'youth — lost pound after pound ; but he made no complaint. Cold sweat stood upon his brow ; his lips were livid. " More brandy !" he suddenly cried out, when the other had won eleven guineas and hia own purse showed but one more. " With pleasure," said the sailor, whose delight was with difficulty kept within ordinary bounds. When he awoke he was in total darkness. Rising from the ground he felt for his bundle, and sallied forth into the open air. He thoroughly recollected the proper direction to follow, and hastened on his way. He had much to do that night, and Portsmouth was still several miles distant. He had been careful to make himself acquainted with the road, and found no difficulty in following it.

For about half-an-hour he did not meet a human being, but at the expiration of that time he heard footsteps in advance, with low murmurings or mutterings. As he proceeded he soon found that the sound emanated from a drunken sailor, who was tottering on towards Portsmouth, pouring forth as he did so a perfect torrent of execrations. " Not a shot in the locker— cleaned out — done brown, and by a raw-looking youngster. Bob Griggs done by a powder monkey. But I never forgets, and if I don't ring the thief's neck I'm a Dutchman." tremely courteous tones. " I hope I am not intruding ?" " The more the merrier," said one of the juveniles, who was making a wretched attempt to smoke a bad cigar, and to drink a glass of grog. " What's your ship ?" growled a mate, a rough customer, with a very red face.

" Whichever ship Sir Edmund Crossley thinks proper to appoint me to," said the other. " Do you know him ?" asked several, eagerly. " Have you seen him ?" " Don't know him. Not a bit. But this is dry talk ; here — bow many are we ? eight. Waiter, half a dozen of port, and let it be good." The hearty response which followed this an nouncement left the youth in no doubt as to his present popularity ; and when the evening was over, and all retired to rest more or less elevated, he was voted by common acclamation a credit to his new profession. Early next morning he rose, and dressed him self with peculiar care, put a pocket book in his breast, aud sallied forth towards the George Inn. The lad was close behind him. The other walked from side to side with an unsteady motion which proved his incapacity for running.

The lad therefore made a bold rush past, and darted away with extraordinary speed. The sailor stood still, petrified with astonishment ; he then made a dash forward, and fell sprawling on the ground. Half-an-hour later the lad entered Portsmouth, and without asking any questions made his way to the quarter inhabited by the Jews. A rather better looking clothes shop attracting his at tention, he entered boldly. "Vat cansh I do for you?" said a little fat flabby man, bowing, with his hands in his pockets. " I want a midshipman's undress suit, quite new," replied the lad, with a firmness of man ner which was not lost on the Hebrew, who produced from a large chest, with professional rapidity, the costume required. " The price ?" said the lad after a critical ex amination . "Sh'lp me, Moses, cost me four guineas," began the Jew.

The lad turned away to leave the shop, his lip curled in scorn. " Vait a bit, ve can pargin," said the Hebrew hurriedly. " No," said the other resolutely, " ask me fair prices and you shall have them. The age of the moon is one." The Jew started as if struck by a blow, and then clutched the other's hand eagerly. From that moment there was no haggling. The mysterous words had produced a magical effect. A suit of clothes, shirts, and other linen, a proper chest and all, were provided with scrupulous regard to fair dealing. Is there then, after all, honour among thieves ? " Vy you not shay dat before ?" muttered the Jew. " Holy Moses ! I might have shaved a brother ; but mine young master, how you know de sign — " " Profit is loss, and loss is profit," replied the lad gravely. ( ., , " I peg one ten thousand pardons,' said the other with genuine awe, his eyes starting from his head.

He asked no further questions, but waited upon the lad with perfect obsequiousness. When he had completed his toilette, the aspirant to naval honours hailed a fly, and directing it to take the young gentleman to the Blue PoBts, the Jew bowed him out with the reverence due to a prince. " Mine Got!" said the Jew, as soon as he had left the premises, " so young and so vicked. De vorld is coming to an ent." Meanwhile, the midshipman had driven up to the hotel, and sending in his box, had entered the pubUc room, where he found several j uveniles congregated, among whom he recognised one or two of his companions of the stage coach. But who could recognise in the handsome young officer the red-haired country youth of a few hours before. " I want to see Sir Edmund Crossley," he said, addressing a waiter in a very soft and honied tone.

His face was pale, his lips compressed, hi3 whole mien agitated. But still he acted with perfect coolness and precision. " Can't see him — busy," replied the waiter. " Take up that," said the youth with severity, handing a card. The man bowed, and glancing at the piece of pasteboard, hurried away to present it. He returned in a few minutes, during which a number of officers looked with a smile upon the self-possession and importance of the aspirant to naval honours. They had heard the conver sation between the lad and the waiter. Their astonishment was great then when the waiter hurried down, and spoke to the lad iu the most respectful manner. " Sir Edgar Blakesley is requested to walk up." The lad looked round with a flushed face, and went upstairs. " That thing a baronet !" cried an old naval officer.

" A pretty pass the service has come to, when youngsters are shown up, while we dangle here, at the will and pleasure of our captains." All present acquiesced as a matter of course. Then, as now, grumbling was the privilege of naval officers.

Chapter III. The Posthumous Heib

We must change the scene for a moment, and ere we return to the old mill where lies the victim of a most cruel murder, or explain the result of the interview between the naval officer and the youth who announced himself as Sir Edgar Blakesley, introduce to the notice of our readers another character in our terrible drama. On the confines of a wooded district in a re mote part of England, which shall be nameless, from obvious reasons, there came to dwell, some " Good evening, gentlemen," he said, in ex- He knew of the cousins. Frederick was a captain in an Infantry regiment, at presaut on sick leave. John was a man about town, who did not carry about with him tbe fairest ol reputations. Mrs. Winterton so far yielded to tbe persua sions of her medical adviser as to increase the number of her servants.

She added one roan in the house, a porter at a small lodge in front ot the house, aud au additional kitehenmairl. Hie nurse the doctor agreed to provide himself. The man servant who was taken into the house was a little, thin, wcazciiA-faco man, named Jones. He assisted the steward, waited at table, and did other offices incident to his situation. Ho came highly recommended from his last place— in London ; no great recom mendation to those who formed the general household. years before the commencement of our narrative, a lady. She took an old-fashioned house which had not been inhabited for some time, and furnished it with great taste aud judgment. She was accompanied by several male and female servants. She wore widow's weeds, and it soon became known in the neighbourhood that her husband had been killed by a mysterious fall from his horse, after one year of married life.

The Honourable Dudley Winterton had married for love ; and being extremely wealthy, had, in the exuberance of his uxorial fondness, endowed his wife, and any possible children she might have, with the whole of his worldly wealth. Failing any heirs, the vast estates and per sonalities went to two cousins in equal shares. When the Honourable Dudley Winterton died — and his death was almost inexplicable — he was childless, and all his wealth weut to his wife, who, distracted and broken-hearted retired with her steward, lady's maid, and other necessary servants, to pass tha first year of her widowhood in retirement, away from those scenes which had so painful an iuterest iu con nection with her beloved husband. He had a catlike mode of moving about, which startled and worried — it was not natural.

Everybody met him when least expected, and he had a strange fancy for examining the unin habited rooms. He was, however, respectful to all, and seemed anxious to win everybody's good graces, especially Mrs. Hudson's, the housekeeper. In this he thoroughly succeeded. One evening, shortly before the interesting event was expected, Mrs. Hudson asked Mr. Jones to tea. The rector of a neighbouring village and the doctor were her only visitors. About four months after her arrival at Fairy Knowe, as we shall call it, the visits of the latter became more frequent ; aud then it was publicly announced that an heir was expected to the name and possessions of the house of Winterton. Like all housekeepers' rooms, it was snug and cozy in the extreme. A warm fire burnt ou the hearth, the kettle hissed, aud the toast was done to a turn, when Mr. Jones knocked at the door.

On being told to enter, he glided in with a sidelong movement sufficiently explitive of his humility. "Sit down, Mr. Jones," she said; "I expect Mr. Dickson directly, but he's gone to D ." "Just so," replied Mr. Jones, taking his seat; " how werry hodd." "Quite natural," observed Mrs. Hudson, with a smile at the other's dialect ; " he's gone to see the doctor." Great were the rejoicings of all the retainers of the family, who begged the widow to return to Dudley House, the chief residence of the Wintertons, that the heir might be born ou the estate. The widow, however, feared the emotion of returning suddenly to the scene of her former happiness, and resolved to remain in the lonely house on the borders of the wild plantation until the interesting event was over. The two cousins, Frederick Winterton aud John Winterton, who had already in imagination divided the estate among them, were furious at the announcement, and wrote to protest against any such imposture being practised.

"I. almost pitied them," said the indignant widow, to her medical adviser ; " but thia in solence is beyond what even my meekness can bear. Let them be strictly forbidden the house." " Just so. You don't mean to insinivate, Mrs. Hudson, as how missus is poorly ?" added Mr. Jones, with his eyes modestly bent on the ground. " Not exactly," said Mrs. Hudson, casting hers up to tlie ceiling, "but expected hourly. The doctor's to come to-morrow." " Just so," cried Mr. Jones, taking a cup of tea. " Poor dear missus, I hopes she will hall right !" " Tho Wintertons always are," said the house keeper, gravely. " Just so. Vat a haws ul haceideut as deprived missus of her husband, and made the babe as is not born a horphan !" " Awful, indeed !" exclaimed Mrs. Hudson. " But, orphan or not, it is a blessing to know that those two scamps in Londou won't inherit master's estates."