The Three Homes. A tale for father and sons

Front matter

CHRISTIES PERIL.-CHAPTER The Three Homes A TALE FOR FATHERS AND SONS. BY F. T. L. HOPE. Mij epe. .fere ra T-k. a. — Ephesians vi. 4. " Hoc patrium est, potius consuesacere filium Sua sponte recte facere quam alieno metu. Hoc pater ac dominus interest. Hoc qui neqiut Fateatur nescire imperare liberis." — Ter. Ad. i. 1, CASSELL & COMPANY, Limited LONDON, PARIS & NEW YORK. CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE I. The Theee Cbicketebs ..... 1 II. Maetin's Home ..... 9 III. Loed Glenullin's Home . . . .17 IV. Ralph's Home ..... 27 V. Fathee and Son ...... 36 VI. Temptation . . . ... . 49 VII. Christie's Peeil ...... 60 VIII. Me. Douglas makes a Mistake ... 67 IX. A Lost Oppoetunity . . . . .83 X. Peovoke not to Weath .... 96 XI. Ralph veey much in the Weon_ . . . 105 XII. A "Scene" 113 XIII. Ralph's Penitence . . . . .119 XIV.

Ralph and Glenullin leave School . . 134 XV. Glenullin's Teoubles . . . . .144 XVI. Glenullin's Fall ..... 159 XVII. Too Late CONTENTS. CHAPTEP. PAGE XVIII. A very Distinct Prohibition . . . 183 XIX. Goaded to Despaie .... 192 XX. Farewell to Home . . . . .207 XXI. Through Haed Paths .... 222 XXII. Out op the Depths . . . . .229 XXIII. Ralph's Cheistmas Evening ... 238 XXIV. Ralph's Peomise to Cheistte . . . 256 XXV. Loed Glenullin at the Paety . . 277 XXVI. Loed Glenullin's Cheque . . . .295 XXVII. The Two Tbacks ln the Snow ... 311 XXVIII. The " Seamaid's " Voyage . . . .320 XXIX. Weecked ...... 327 XXX. One Missing . . . . . .338 XXXI. Cheistte's Stbange Fancy . ... 352 XXXIL Raileocz Lighthouse . . . .361 XXXIII. "Vale! vale!" . 371 XXXIV. "L'Envoi"

Chapter I. The Three Cricketers

" And thereby hangs a tale." — Shakespeare. A glorious summer evening — an evening to be remembered. The sun had sunk below the horizon, but the clouds were stiU lit with the colours of sunset, and the fierce blinding splendour of gold and crimson with which they had been blazing a few minutes earlier was already beginning to fade away into less briUiant colours, which vanished, and melted by ex quisite gradations into a haze of delicate green. The east, as is so often the case after bright summer days, was reflecting in paler echoes the gorgeous picturing of the west. Overhead, the sky, which aU day long had glowed like an Oriental sapphire, was graduaUy assuming a more silvery Hght, and the pale circle of the moon was visible, though the stars had not yet begun to shine. On such an evening it was a luxury to live.

On one of the broad belts of green that fringed both sides of a pleasant road in one of the southern a counties of England, were walking, on the evening I have described, the three boys with wbose history, during a brief period of their lives, my story has to deal. They were in cricketing costume — straw hats and white flannel jackets and trousers, with handker chiefs of blue silk tied round their waist. It was evident that they were just returning from a cricket match, and indeed two of them carried bats in their hands ; the third had lazily left his to be carried by a liveried servant, who was sauntering at no great distance behind them. A very few words will serve to introduce and describe them to my readers, who will, I hope, soon know them as well as I do myself. When three people are walking together, the most important, or the most popular, is generally in the middle of the three, and it is with the fortunes of the boy who is walking between the two others that this tale will be mainly occupied.

He is a manly, honest-looking boy, with dark brown hair, and eyes of deep shining blue. His name is Ralph Douglas ; his age, like that of his two companions, is about fifteen. It was impossible to know Ralph Douglas without feeling attracted towards him. It was not merely that there was a wanning frankness in his look and manner, but that there was, even at this early age, an occasional sadness — a sudden glance of appeal, as though against some anticipated harshness, which interested you in him more than his handsome face. The expression of his features was thoroughly good, and almost habitually bright, but as I recall him to my memory CRICKETERS, 3 as then he looked, I can now interpret the transient sadness, which was really the history of past trials and the prophecy of others yet to come.

The boy at his right, to whom most of his con versation was addressed, was Martin AUerby. They had known each other from childhood, had spent many and many a happy hour together, and always sought each other's company when there was an opportunity. But at present they could only meet during the holidays, for they were at different schools. This is not a story of school life, and of their school days I shaU have Httle or nothing to chronicle ; but I may mention, in passing, that Ralph Douglas had ab-eady been for two years at Rugby, and Martin AUerby had been for a still longer time at Eton. The third boy — the one who had not taken the trouble to carry his own bat — was not only a few months younger than the other two, and rather more slightly made, but was evidently a different sort of boy altogether.

Perhaps any one who had seen them would have pronounced him by far the best-looking of the three, and if beauty be not " the sacrament of goodness," so he was • for his features were of the finest and most aristocratic type. But there was a certain hardness in them which did not attract — a want of all that graceful modesty and reserve which is most becoming in the young. His whole manner resembled his looks, it spoke of a complete self possession, which almost left the impression of im pertinence. Lord GlenuUin — for the boy was a Viscount, and the eldest son of the great Earl of b DonneriU, the chief magnate of the county — could make himself extremely agreeable when he chose • but there was nothing simple or natural about his manner. Towards strangers he could behave, when ever he was pleased to do so, with all the faultless and finished courtesy of a man of the world; but the courtesy did not deceive a close observer.

It struck one as being superficial and insincere ; there was a sort of irony about it which was whoUy pre cocious • it did not seem to be the expression of any genuine or kindly feeling, but rather the substitute for it. It had not the ease of perfectly natural good breeding, but on the contrary there was something artificial and elaborate in its studied grace and com posure. If the three boys had been spending the day among strangers, Glenullin would have broken the ice at once, and would have made himself perfectly at home before the others had begun to do so ; but long before the evening came the other two would have won for themselves the largest share of esteem and liking, in the opinion of all who did not judge by superficial appearances. But just at this moment Lord Glenullin seemed to be in one of his pleasantest humours, and he evidently wished to stand well in the good graces of his two young companions, if not to be admitted as a third into their friendship.

" What a jolly day we've had," said he, "and what a glorious evening it is ! do let's sit down a bit and rest on that stile." He pointed to a low 6tile, over which a narrow CKICKETERS. but pleasant pathway turned off from the main road, through a field in which the coin was already assum ing a tinge of golden brown. It was an inviting spot at which to rest. The view all round was magnificently rich and varied ; woodbine twined about the hedges, loading the evening air with delicate per fume ; the wild flowers grew in profusion at their feet; the air was quivering with the song of birds, and the hum of insects ; and waves of golden light fluctuated over the ripening corn, as it began to shiver under the dewy freshness of the evening breeze. "What do you want to rest for, Glenullin?" said Martin, laughing; "is it because you are so much fatigued by not carrying your bat ?

" " Don't you begin to chaff," answererd Lord Glenullin good-humouredly ; "perhaps, if I had a presentation bat to show off, as you and Ralph have, I might carry my own too. I've seen yours a dozen times, Martin. — Here, Ralph, let's have a look at yours," said he, seating himself on the stile, and reading the inscription on the little silver plate which 6hone on the back of Ralph's bat. " Ah, ' Ralph Douglas, from ' — some initials or other ; chums of yours at Rugby, I suppose, Ralph — 'for getting 53 in his house-match.' Ah, that's what I like to see a fellow get in our match at Lord's ! Well, Ralph, you deserve a rest, anyhow, for your doings to-day again ; but as for me, with a two and a one for my two scores, I can't say I am overtired." " Mine weren't so very much better," said Martin, " a three and a ten aren't much to be proud of.

Oui wickets went down like shot at first ; I thought the Alton Club would have been able to boast of having Hcked an eleven of public schoolfellows." " Never mind," said Ralph, " we did lick them, after aU." "Yes, thanks to you, Ralph," said GlenuUin. " HaUo ! here's the flunkey approaching with my bat." "I wish you'd ask him the time," said Ralph, "as we've none of us got our watches. I'm afraid I'm a little late." "What, are you afraid you'll be too late for dinner ? why, it isn't eight o'clock yet." " Dinner ! no, I should think not. Do you dine so late as that ? " " Yes, at half -past eight always." "Well, I only hope it isn't anything like eight o'clock yet, or I shall miss dinner and supper too ; besides " He stopped himself short, and Glenullin shouted to the servant, who had already passed them, " Hi ! you there ! what time is it ?

" " Five minutes past eight, my lord," said the man in an insinuating voice, and with an obsequious bow to his young master. "Five minutes past eight!" repeated Douglas in a tone of the deepest vexation and surprise ; " I'd no idea it was so late; I must be off at once. Good night, Martin : good night, GlenulHn ! " and without a word more he jumped the stile at a bound, and ran off as fast as he could through the corn-field. CRICKETERS. 7 " Why, what a hurry he's in ! " said GlenuUin, laughing ; " and must you go too, AUerby ? " " I think iss about time. Douglas hasn't far to go to the Grange," he said, pointing to a house whose gabled roof rose from between the trees of a neighbouring rookery ; " but I've another quarter of a mile, even if I take the short cut across the fields, and I'm hungry, so good evening."

" WeU, good evening if you must go ; but iss a horrid bore walking by oneself. I think I shall order the trap to come here for me." "The trap!" said Martin, with a sHght accent of contempt : " what, merely to save you the trouble of walking to DonneriU Castle ?" " Yes, why shouldn't I ? " said Glenullin, looking nettled at Martin's tone. — " Here, Clark," he called to the servant, " just go and order the trap for me at the Castle, and meet me here." "AU serene," said Martin, " it's certainly no affair of mine. Good-bye, Glenullin, and may you enjoy your drive." GlenuUin vouchsafed no reply to Martin's sarcasm, but vented his anger on the man-servant, whom he rudely ordered to be off, and not to waste time in dawdling. " Why, iss hardly twenty minutes' walk to the Castle, my lord, and you'd be there before I got back to you," said Clark, a little surprised.

" Who asked you how far it was ? " said the boy imperiously; "you do as you're told, and don't be impudent. Perhaps I shaU wait for you here. And hark : mind you order the chestnut mare to be har nessed in the trap." " Certainly, my lord ; beg your pardon, my lord, but " " But ! but! " he said, with a burst of ill-humour, "get off with you, and don't stand scraping there. What's the good of your being my servant, if you're not to obey orders, as Lord Donnerill told you to do?" The valet started off at a quick pace, with a peculiar smile on his lips, as if he rather liked being abused and ordered about roughly. But no sooner had he reached the winding of the road than he stopped, and glancing back at the young lord, who was lounging over the stile with his back towards him, he changed the smile into a scowl, and shaking his fist, angrily muttered, " Impudent, indeed ! young dog — he may order me about now; but it wiU be my turn some day, and then he shall smart for it; I'U make him feel it, for all he's Howard, Viscount GlenuUin, and sole heir to DonneriU Castle.

See if Giles Clark isn't even with him yet ! " But Lord GlenuUin, as he sat lazily kicking his heels upon the stile, and enjoying the pleasant summer air, was happily unconscious of this apos trophe; nor was either of our young cricketers aware that on the apparently trivial incidents of that one evening hinged unseen, as is so often the case in the life of man, a long series of events which coloured the history of many years.

Chapter II

martin's home. " Purus et insons Ut me oollaudem — si et vivo carus amicis, Causa suit pater his." — Hor. Sat. I. vi. 70. I suppose that most of us when we have seen houses which were picturesquely situated, and wore a look of unusual beauty and comfort, have now and then felt a passing desire to know who were the people that lived in them, and what their manner of life was, and whether they were happy or not. GeneraUy speaking, the curiosity must vanish away, ungratified, as lightly as it came ; but at present we can enter at our ease three beautiful and wealthy English homes, and introduce ourselves washout a particle of shyness to the families who own them. But our motive is a higher one than mere curiosity — higher (at least mine is) than the hope of finding simple amusement. Let us follow Martin to his home first.

His father, Sir Henry AUerby, Hved in a large modern house, built on an eminence which commanded a glimpse of the distant sea, and enjoyed the full benefit of its healthy breezes. It was surrounded by a small but beautiful park, and round the house, of which the windows opened upon shubberies or smooth garden lawns, ran a verandah, which at this time of the year was one rich mass of lovely and fragrant blossoms. When Martin entered he found the family seated at dessert. His sister and his younger brother were eagerly arranging schemes of holiday amusement with their cousin, a boy named George Beaumont, who had just eome to visit them ; and Sir Henry and Lady AUerby were entering heartily into the conversa tion, in which they seemed nearly as much interested as the young people themselves. " I'm so sorry I wasn't at home when you arrived, George," said Martin, warmly shaking his cousin by the hand.

" Yes," said Sir Henry, with a little severity ; " I wonder who it was that speciaUy promised to be at the station to show his cousin the way to the house ? and who it was that prevented the carriage from being sent, because he said it would be so jolly to waU_ by the short cut through the park ?" "Oh, papa, now it's no good your pretending to look angry, for yon never can manage it," said Martin. — "I hope you found the way aU right, George?" " Well, I think I must have taken a wrong turn," said George. "I should just think so," chimed in Herbert, Martin's younger brother: "why, Martin, he took the turn by the mill — missed his way in the wood, naturaUy enough — got into the cover somehow, and MARTIN'S HOME. 11 was as nearly as possible shot by the keeper, either as a pheasant or a poacher — I don't know which — and then was nearly worried by the keeper's dogs."

" Phew ! " said Martin, looking reaUy vexed ; " I'm so sorry." "Never mind," said Lady AUerby, seeing the cloud on Martin's brow, "I dare say George wiU forgive you." " Yes, if he can forgive himseH for not keeping his promise," said Sir Henry. Martin was about to answer, but Herbert, an eager, impetuous boy, broke into the conversation. "And all this time we've never asked you who won," said he, "though we've been talking of the match so long beforehand ; I suppose the town licked the schools : I hope they did." "You little monkey," said Martin, pulling his ear ; " fancy an eleven of fellows from three or four public schools being licked at Alton ! I must confess we were precious near a beating though." " Do tell us all about it," said Lady AUerby, who saw that Martin had been pained by his father's remark, and was not unwdUing to divert his attention from it for the present.

"And how many did you get?" asked Alice, Martin's sister. " And GlenuUin ? and Douglas?" asked Herbert. " And which won the toss? And who bowled? And did you make any catches?" "Which shaU I answer first?" said Martin, laughing. "Oh, begin right at the beginning, and tell us the whole thing," said Herbert. "Well, I will when I've made myself present able," said Martin. " But I must change my flannels first. I only came in to look if George had arrived." " Oh, w7e'll excuse your cricketing dress for once, Martin," said Lady AUerby, " for I dare say you are hungry and tired after the day's exertion ; sit down at once, and Herbert shall ring and order some tea for you ; I suppose you have dined?" "No," said Martin, "I did not stay for the dinner." " Fire away then," said Herbert, as he got up to ring the bell, and Martin seated himself by his cousin at the table.

"WeU, it has been a splendid day, as you see," he said, " and the Alton Club has one of the finest grounds in the country. I wonder you let a mere pic-nie carry you all away from it ! There were hundreds of people there, and dozens of ladies. The Altonites won the toss, and sent in their great big farmers and blacksmiths, who cut about ombowl ing right and left. One of their men — John, Lord DonneriU's keeper — kept hitting fivers and sixers till we were aU tired out. He gave two chances though; only that conceited young muff, GlenuUin, who has been more than usuaUy uppish aU day, and wants taking down a few pegs " " Hush ! " said Sir Henry rather more sharply than his wont was ; " yon are talking to ladies, and are not in the cricket-field now, remember." martin's home. 13 ""Well, then, the Lord Viscount GlenuUin — will that do ?" continued Martin.

" Martin ! " said Sir Henry quietly. The boy blushed, and instantly recovering his good-temper, and checking his little fit of vexation, he continued — " WeU, GlenuUin missed an easy catch twice. However, we got them out at last for 180. Then we had our innings ; but we were unlucky, or something, for we only scored 120 between us." "You haven't said how many an awfully swell cricketer, named Martin AUerby, got," said Herbert. "I only got three, Master Impudence," said Martin, shaking his fist at him. " Oh !" said Herbert. " WeU, go on." " WeU, the next innings we got the Altonites out rather more quickly. I was lucky enough to catch the harmonious blacksmith at cover-point; and the keeper, who isn't a scientific player, but only a hard hitter, got out with leg before wicket; so they only added eighty-two to their score.

Still, we had to go in against 14-2; and the match looked hollow enough. The stumps were to have been drawn punctuaUy at six for the dinner afterwards, but they agreed to play on till a quarter-past seven. Our first few wickets went down for very few ; and the rest got ' thoroughly demoralised,' as the Ameri cans say, though their bowling was decidedly weak. They put me in last but one, and when I went in we had still sixty to get to win ; so we were aU in despair. Ralph Douglas had been playing splendidly; he was very careful till he got his eye in, and then swiped, and ran as though the game depended on every cut. As I went to the wicket the fellows whispered to me to stick as long as I could. Now you know I can stick pretty well ; and that's some thing, Master Herbert, let me tell you. Besides, I'd quite enough to do to run for Ralph's hits.

You Know what a pretty forward style of play he has. Well, they were bowling slow lobs to him, and at every ball he ran out, and swiped it to the palings and the tent, until all the lookers-on were shouting with delight. So I plucked up courage, and began to hit too, until I got ten, and then I was bowled out." " Middle wicket, I'll be bound," said Herbert. " No, only grazed the bales ; so you're out there," said Martin; "but meanwhile our score had been going up and up and up, and we were 136, and it was ten minutes past seven. Luckily, Lord Glenullin, the last man, scored one, and Ralph catching the next ball at half -volley, sent it flying like the wind ; he and Glenullin ran as hard as they could, and had got six, when the ball was thrown in, and it was time to draw the stumps. That made us up to exactly 143.

So we won, much to omown surprise, with one wicket to go down ; and you may guess the row we made — cheering ourselves nearly hoarse, and chairing Ralph in triumph to the tent ; for we should have been licked but for him. His score was ninety seven, not out ! What do you think of that for an innings ?" "Well done, Ralph Douglas 1" said Sir Henry. martin's home. 15 '' So, Martin, it wasn't the dinner which tempted you to break your promise, as I had feared. And you must be hungry; so don't talk any more, and make good use of your time." " Yes, but I see you've aU finished ; so don't stay to see me at my dinner, or I shall feel like the Hon in the Zoo. I shaU soon have done, and then we'll make our plans for amusing George next week." When the rest had left the room, Martin hastily finished his meal, and then rising from the table and going to his father, who still sat in his arm-chair reading a book, said, in an anxious tone, "You're not angry with me, papa ?"

"No, my boy," answered Sir Henry; "under the circumstances there is nothing to be angry about, although I left you to make your owni explanation. You know how very particular I am about punctu ality and promises ; but as I should certainly have washed you to see the match ended had I been on the field, your staying there was quite excusable." "That's just what I thought, papa. I assure you that I didn't stay without thinking about my promise ; but I knew you'd be sorry if I went, as things were. My side would have been very much vexed with me, and as we had no twelfth man, it would have spoilt all the fun." " You would have come, then, and not waited for the dinner, if the game had ended at six?" " Why, of course I should, papa ! " said Martin in an injured tone. " Did you ever know me break my word before?"

"Never, Martin," said Sir Henry; "and the reason why I can never be reaUy angry with you is because you are a thoroughly good boy, in whom I can feel perfect confidence. And now let's go and join the family council of pleasure." And with his hand on Martin's shoulder, Sir Henry walked with him into the garden, as proud of his son, and as happy in his confidence and affection, as any father in the world could be. Few sons could have had a nobler and kinder father than Sir Henry AUerby ; few fathers a more lovable and blameless son than Martin had always been.

Chapter III. Lord Glenullin's Home

" Hoc patrium est, potius eonsuefacere filium Sua sponte recte facere quam alieno metu. Hoc pater et dominus intersit. Hoc qui nequit Fateatur nescire imperai-e liberis." — Ter. Ad. i. 1. Leaving the bright and happy home of the AUerbys ■ — a home over which love and peace played Hke a perpetual sunshine — we wall make our way to the splendid seat of the Earl of Donnerill. Descending from AUerby Park, and crossing the road, you climb another slight hiU, and from the top of it catch sight of a smaU lake studded with islands, beyond which, terrace above terrace, belted with breadths of garden which shine with a thousand colours, and gleaming with large conservatories filled with the richest exotics, rise the stately towers and wide-spread buildings of DonneriU Castle. It was an ancient pile, raised in the reign of Edward III. by the first earl of the line; but it had received numberless modern additions, and the grounds around it had been so magnificently laid out that it was the pride and ornament of thc country for miles around.

The Earls of Donnerill had been men of weight and fame. They had won laurels both bv land and c sea — both in peace and war. The sons of the house had been wise and noble, its daughters beautiful and good, and their names were to be read on many a page of their country's annals. But the present lord had been until quite lately a degenerate scion of the ancient stock. Even before he succeeded to the earl dom he had done his best to tarnish its honours. Pleasure and excitement had been the avowed objects of his life, and had ended, as they always do, in lassitude and discontent. He had been a conspicuous supporter of the Prize Ring and of the Turf ; he had squandered immense sums at the gaming-table ; he had contracted enormous debts. These dangerous excitements had brought with them their natural consequences.

When Lord Donnerill succeeded to the title, he found too late that he had spent the earHest and best years of his life in rendering the rest of it unhappy. One fact especially weighed upon his mind with a bitter sense of degradation : entirely through his own foUy and extravagance hp had been compelled, for the first time in the history of the family — and indeed mainly in consequence of the losses resulting from a single lace — to mortgage heavily a large portion of the Donnerill estate. While others were envying the splendour in which he lived, the influence which he was able to exercise, and the distinction with which he was everywhere received, he carried deep within himself — like the flame which devoured the heart of the princely banquetars in the hall of Eblis — the tormenting consciousness that he had only succeeded in diminishing the lustre of tho LORD GLENULLIN'S HOME. 19 name which he was so proud to wear.

There was but one thing which caused him deeper pain than even this : itwas to see that his son had inherited tlie dangerous tendencies which had been the bane of his own Hfe, and seemed likely, as far as could be judged by external indications, to pass through a boyhood as stormy and Ul-regulated and full of evil consequences as his own. His wife — a lady of great beauty and rare sweetness of character — had died young, when Lord Glenullin was only four years old. Had she lived she would have continued to exercise a salutary influence upon her husband, and to save him from the self-reproach of many useless and unhappy years ; but when her death came upon him like a sudden blow, he had striven to drown his sorrow in renewed excitement. Lord GlenuUin inherited his mother's beauty, and was looked on wdth envy by thousands, as one to whom the world had given all tbat it could bestow.