Silvia

Chapter I

A DAZZLING sheet of suoav lay on the garden the next morning, and the air was bit terly cold, still Silvia felt tempted to go out even before breakfast. She had stayed much within of late under plea of the cold, so Madame de l'Epine had given her a set of furs the even ing before, hoping to lure her out by the wish to use them. Furs are not much worn in Italy. Silvia had never called any her own, and she was in raptures with those given her by her friend, which were indeed both costly and hand some. She had stayed up an hour later than usual in her room, in order to look at them under every aspect, and to try them on in every possible fashion. She had dreamed of them all night, and with the first glimpse of daylight she VOL. II. B SILVIA. woke, in order to wear them as early as possible. The chUd never dies in the best and the wisest of us, and the child is very strong stUl in a girl of Silvia's years.

" It is quite fine," she thought, peeping out of her window ; "besides that, white snow is so pretty !" So she dressed without loss of time, wrapped herself up in her furs, which were both warm and becoming, and went down to the terrace. She took a few turns up and down; then wearying of this monotonous promenade, she entered the avenue facing Mr. Meredith's study. The shutters of his AvindoAvs were stUl closed — besides, she knew he was never there at this early hour. Sihia wralked fast, leaving her light foot prints on the snow behind her. Snow was new to her yet, and had its attractions. The strange stillness of the air was unlike anything she re membered. And then, how ghostly looked those tall leafless trees ! Their rude old trunks Avere hoary, their bare branches and tAvigs were touched Avith white — white was everywhere — on everything.

It Avas nature's winter garment, Avhich she wore now instead of her summer green. SILVIA. 3 Silvia had nearly reached the end of the avenue, when she stood stUl, amazed and terrified; for there, crouching on the snow, she saw a dark grizzly creature, with grinning teeth and staring eyes. " Do not be afraid, Mademoiselle Nardi,"' quickly said Mr. Meredith behind her ; " the beast is dead. I would not have put him here, if I had thought you would come so early this way." " Is it a Avolf ?" asked SUvia, Avithout turning round, and seeming unable to take her eyes from off the creature. " It is a wolf, indeed — no less a wolf than Baptiste." This time she turned round quick as thought. " You killed him !" she exclaimed, with sparkling eyes. "Yes, I went out with Pierre just to see where he lived, and he came upon us as we were riding home, so I shot him."

" You shot that terrible creature ?" she cried ■" with your own hand you shot him ?" " Mademoiselle Nardi, I did." He seemed much amused at her evident amazement. B SILVIA. " Why, how bold — how very bold and brave you must be !" she cried, looking at him with an admiration so frank and undisguised, that a faint tinge of colour rose to his pale face. Yes, he was brave and bold enough, but so were hundreds, and he knew it, and did not OA'er-estimate his own prowess. But if tourna ments are gone by, and lances must be broken no more in honour of bright eyes — if gloves are not thrown midst raging lions — if ladies' tokens are not borne to the very front of battle, and brought back crimson with the foeman's blood, the undying spring whence these actions had birth is Avith us still ; and that was Avhy, we suppose, old Baptiste Avas shot on a Avintry afternoon.

" Are you afraid to go near him ?" asked Mr. Meredith, seeing that SUvia kept at a respect ful distance from the dead wolf. " No," she replied, with some hesitation. " Of course he is quite dead ?" He laughed, and shook his head. " Poor Baptiste !" he said — " he is quite dead, indeed ; he avUI never terrify shepherds, nor carry away bleating sheep again." Silvia allowed herself to be persuaded. SILVIA. 5 She went up to Baptiste, and as Mr. Meredith shoAved her how stiff and dead he was, she looked at him with an attention which only increased her admiration of his slayer's bravery. " Dear Mademoiselle Nardi," he said, almost vexed at having drawn this down upon himself, " do remember that the Avolf is a cowardly ani mal, and that if Pierre got bitten, he was a boy, he had stumbled, and had no weapons.

With my revolver, I need scarcely fear a pack of wolves ; an angry dog is, in my opinion, a more dangerous enemy." " Then why did no one else kill him ?" " I suppose because Baptiste was very cunning, poor fellow." " You pity him ! Why, he ate the poor sheep and the httle lambs." " Dear MademoiseUe Nardi, I think lamb de licious with green peas, and I have a weakness for boiled mutton and caper-sauce: Baptiste was unsophisticated, he cared for neither vege tables nor pickles ; he was his own butcher and purveyor, and he forgot to leave his money on the counter when he went for his meat. So he got a bad character : he was free-thinker and free-booter as well, and the two united were SILVIA. too much for a world which is the slave of opinion. You have heard of wolves in sheep's clothing. WeU, I don't knoAv what Baptiste did with the skins and the wool of his victims, but he certainly did not put them on ; he did not even give them as blankets to the poor, and try and be a charitable wolf, as a wiser beast would have done.

No, he was a savage old wretch, with cruel teeth and glaring eyes, and not a drop of pity in his heart ; a remorseless old robber, who maintained his right to Uve as his forefathers had Uved before him. And so it Avas right that he should die — but now that he is dead, let me pity him a Uttle." " Ah, it was a grand thing to kUl him, and to kill him alone, too," ejaculated SUvia, returning to her first impression. " Then I cannot lay claim to that glory, for Pataud, forgetting he had not his spiked collar on, flew at the wolf's throat, and got badly wounded by Baptiste's two companions for his pains." " Then you encountered a whole pack ?" " Not a whole pack, only three." " Only three !" and she shuddered. " It was a fair fight. Three to three — Pierre, myself, and Pataud." SILVIA. 7 " Pataud ?

Who is Pataud ?" "Pierre's dog, and he lies badly wounded, under the care of Uttle Mrs. Jones. We found we coiUd not take him home to his master's lodge." " Three wolves !" said SUvia, shuddering again. Mr. Meredith laughed heartily. " Three wolves !" said the Captain's voice behind them. "Why three? — why not a dozen ?" But on seeing Baptiste, as he did then, the Captain suddenly broke off, stared at the dead beast, then at his stepson, then whis tled. " Baptiste," he said, " you have killed old Baptiste ! " " Yes," cried Silvia, with sparkling eyes ; " only think of it ! Mr. Meredith shot that creature with his own hand." The Captain laughed boisterously. " Ha, ha !" he cried, " do you think so much of that, Mademoiselle Nardi ? You should have seen us both in Africa, when we used to go out lion hunting.

Why, Charlie has got ever so many lion skins lying by him for presents to ladies. You must get into Charlie's good graces, Mademoiselle Nardi, and he will give SILVIA. you one. Ask him for the skin of the young lioness whose cub he killed; but no, the old lion's is better." " You are laughing at me," said Silvia, colouring a little, and looking rather gravely in the Captain's face. " I know Mr. Meredith did not kill all these lions." The Captain stared at her in unmitigated sur prise. "Well, Mademoiselle Nardi," he said, "you are the first person I ever met who did not be lieve Charlie equal to anything. Mind you," he added, quietly and gravely, " I do not want to make out the boy a prodigy. Lion hunting is not so dangerous as tiger hunting, but from what I have seen Charlie do, I should say he could manage tigers just as he managed Uons.

It is not the lad's fault," feelingly added the Captain, " if he found no tigers in Africa." SUvia did not answer, but looked round at Mr. Meredith, who, having left them to examine Baptiste by daylight, had not heard the whole of this conversation. Was it possible that this pale, slight young man was such a hero ! For, alas, SUvia, true to the instincts of her sex, thought that the slayer of wolves and lions SILVIA. must needs be cast in the true heroic mould. Itwas wonderful, but it was also strange and perplexing ; so much so, that when the Captain joined his stepson, and began examining Bap tiste with him, gravely measuring his length from the tip of his grizzly snout to the last hah in his tail, "SUAia, still full of surprise and curiosity, and longing to know more, entered the house.

Mrs. Groom was crossing the hall with a cup of chocolate for Madame de l'Epine in her hand. At once Silvia flew to her. " Oh ! Mrs. Groom, only think," she cried, " Mr. Meredith has killed Baptiste ! You know that old Baptiste, the wolf, I mean, who used to eat all the sheep." " All ?" sceptically asked Mrs. Groom. " Yes," heedlessly replied Silvia : " and the Captain says he used to kill lions in Africa, and that he has got theh skins ! Is it not wonderful?" " I think it would be strange if they had no skins," replied Mrs. Groom drily. " Oh ! you know what I mean," impatiently said Silvia ; " but I should like to see a lion skin." " I keep telling him the moths wUl get into SILVIA. it," remarked Mrs. Groom, "an ugly tawny thing. But he will have it in his room. Mr- Meredith ahvays was obstinate."

Mrs. Groom Avas not in one of her communica tive moods ; but Silvia, who longed to know all about Mr. Meredith's Uon hunting, would not be baffled. " Give me Madame de l'Epine's chocolate, and I shall take it up to her," she said eagerly. Mrs. Groom, who always had plenty to do, raised no opposition ; and SUvia, taking the lit tle Sevres salver, with its dainty cup and saucer, went up to Madame de l'Epine's room forth with. SUvia's room was the brightest in the house. It enjoyed every ray of sun which could pierce the winter sky, and commanded a vivid prospect of avenue, statue and colonnade, and even had the white curling smoke of the railway to break on the monotony of its garden solitude. But the look-out of Madame de l'Epine's one window was on a group of sombre pines, Avhich moaned dismally in the Avintry blast ; and through that one Avindow gray light stole in on a large, but rather sombre apartment.

To SUvia that room, its furniture, its aspect, and its neat precision, were aU rather unpleas- SILVIA. 11 ing. How could Josephine be so painfully tidy, and keep everything so immutably straight about her : but she forgot to think of that on this morning. Scarcely giving herself time to utter a greet ing, or to put down the salver and the cup of chocolate on the little round table by which her friend sat reading, she exclaimed eagerly : " Oh ! Josephine, only think ! Your brother has killed Baptiste ! And is it true that he used to kUl Uons in Africa, and has he got a lion skin ?" Madame de l'Epine slowly raised her pale face in mild surprise at so unexpected an address. Then she colo ured and said with much emotion, " I wish he would not — I wish he would not." " It is dangerous ; I knew it !" cried Silvia, with sparkling eyes.

" He would not confess it, but I knew it." "Ah! it is not Baptiste I fear," exclaimed Madame de l'Epine, almost involuntarily, " and he knows it — he knows it." But Silvia, still intent on her own thoughts, Avent on : " And did he really kill the lions ? Is it pos sible?" SILVIA. " Yes, and nearly lost his life once," replied Madame de l'Epine, shuddering. Silvia's dark eyes were raised to her friend's, in breathless wonder and interest. " Oh ! do tell me," she cried, " do tell me !" " I cannot," replied Madame de l'Epine, shuddering again ; " I can never speak of these things." Silvia, much disappointed, remained silent a while ; then she said thoughtfully, " How very brave Mr. Meredith must be !" Madame de l'Epine paused in the act of rais ing the cup to her lips, in order to look at her.

Silvia was leaning back in her chair, with her hands folded on her lap, and her eyes bent on the carpet. " All men should be brave," said Josephine, gently. " Yes," composedly repUed SUvia, " but I do not think there are many men so brave as Mr. Meredith. I could scarcely bear to look at that horrible old wolf, and only think, Mr. Mere dith went out on purpose to kUl him, and he did kUl him !" Madame de l'Epine could not help smUing, but she felt a little uneasy at this tardy admira- SILVIA. tion of Mr. Meredith. "Ah! that sort of bravery is not much," she said, with a sigh, " and I al most wish Charles had it not." SUvia looked at her in evident wonder, " I hate a coward," she said, Avith great scorn. Madame de l'Epine was silent; and Silvia, seeing that the conversation was checked on that score, and feeling unable to talk of anything else, soon left her.

" I wonder at them, I do," she thought, a little indignantly ; " but they all, even the Captain, even Mrs. Groom, they all will think nothing of Mr. Meredith's doing what no one else could do. I should have liked to have known that story of the lion. It is very tiresome of Jose phine not to teU it to me. I must get it from the Captain, when I find him alone." But as nothing was rarer tban for Silvia to get the Captain alone, she thought, whilst wait ing for her opportunity, that she might as well go and see how Pataud, that other hero in the tragedy of Baptiste's death, was getting on. The farm was a rambling old place, which had once accommodated the farmer and his twelve children. But the land belonging to it had been SILVIA. alienated, the farmer was dead, his sons were gone, and an old woman and her grandson did the little there was to do, and lived there alone, tUl two vacant rooms were assigned to Mrs. Jones and her chUdren.

Kind and charitable though she was, Madame de l'Epine did not in tend that this should be the little Avidow's final home. She meant to put her in a fair way of earning her bread, and of rearing her chUdren in England ; and in the meanwhile gave her the shelter of a friendly roof, and paid her abundant ly for the very moderate amount of labour which she was able to perform. Mrs. Jones, as we know, had other views, and was firmly convinced that she Avas a valuable acquisition on the farm — a delusion which no one save sharp-sighted Mrs. Groom suspected. This exaggerated sense of her OAvn importance made Mrs. Jones, though not an unkind woman by any means, view with secret displeasure the presence of Pataud, whom Mr. Meredith had brought to her, thinking her likely to prove a more tender and attentive nurse than old Catherine — a sour, taciturn, and by no means amiable specimen of the paysanne.

So that when Silvia, crossing the farmyard, met Mrs. Jones, avIio was going to mUk the cow, SILVIA. 15 and rushing at her, exclaimed breathlessly, "Mrs. Jones — how is the dog?" Mrs. Jones turned up her nose, and said in an injured tone, " That's just what I say : it is a dog ; they may call him Pataud, but it is a dog." " Of course it is ; and how is the dog, Mrs. Jones?" " He's in there, miss, and I have had to lock up John and William ; and they may call him Pataud, but I say he is a dog, and no more than a dog." SUvia lost patience, and, without persisting in her inquiry, Avent in. She crossed an empty room, and low moans and a sound of voices guided her to another beyond it. The door was open, and she stood in the threshold, looking in, and herself unseen. Pataud Avas lying on a bed made of one of his master's overcoats, which had been placed on a large deal table for him.

The poor beast was swathed in blood-stained bandages, and looked like an Egyptian mummy, if tbe devout worshippers of the god Aunbis did ever make mummies of their canine deities. Pierre stood by, looking down at him Avith a very sad face, Avhilst Mr. Meredith was undoing SILVIA. the bandages with a light and skilful hand. "I tell you Pataud will do," triumphantly said Mr. Meredith, as he untied the last bandage. " Look and see if my elixir has not already work ed wonders. We need no second appUcation, Pierre." " Do you think Pataud wUl Uve ?" breathlessly said Pierre ; " do you really think so, Mon sieur Charles ?" " Look at his eye," kindly answered Mr. Mere dith, whose hand Pataud was Ucking feebly, " his clear bright brown eye." " His poor ear is all torn," said Pierre, tenderly ; " never mind, old boy, your master wUl love you none the less."

" None the less !" repeated Mr. Meredith, " you mean all the more. These are honourable wounds, Pierre, and the scars they leave behind them fill Pataud's heart with modest pride. He wiU wear his torn ear as you would wear the red ribbon of the cross of the legion of honour, if you had got it." " You may laugh at me, Monsieur Charles," said Pierre, confidentially, " but if anything were to happen to that dog, I should never get rightly over it." SILVIA. 17 " I am not sure that I am at all inclined to laugh at you," said Mr. Meredith, who, after gently dressing Pataud's wounds, was bandaging him up again. " Which of your countrymen is it that said, ' Ce quil y a de mieux dans Thomme c'est le chien.' ? I am afraid he spoke the truth, Pierre. I am afraid that for bravery, truth, fi delity and love, Pataud would beat many of us."

" And he loves you too, Monsieur Charles," said Pierre, nodding. " You were always kind to the dog, and he knows it. You do not suppose that Pataud, having as he has all these fine white teeth in his head, would let any one but you or me, or Jean Varot who reared him, touch him noAv ? Not that Pataud is ill-natured ; a lamb, Monsieur Charles, a lamb, and you know it, but the poor beast is in pain." " And has got a temper," said Mr. Meredith rising, "so, Mrs. Jones," he added in English and turning to the widow, who noAV came in Avith Silvia, "you v_.ll keep your little people from this lamb of Pierre's. He has the sweetest disposition as a rule, but is rather irritable just now." Pierre, who did not understand this speech, >2_VOL. II. C c SILVIA. and only knew it referred to Pataud, naturally concluded it was in Pataud's praise, and nodding complacently observed : " He is the best dog in the world, and Mon sieur Charles knows it."

" I am sure Pataud would not bite me," here said Silvia, coming forward, and half in jest, half iu earnest, she put out her Uttle hand to stroke the mastiff's rough broAvn head. Pataud raised his upper lip and showed his teeth, but even before he could begin to growl Mr. Mere dith had swiftly seized Silvia's hand and snatched it back. Pierre looked half frightened. " Oh ! mademoiselle," he said, " you must not do that." SUvia, rather alarmed, drew closer to Mr. Meredith. " Why do you have so savage a creature ?" she asked, half angrily. " He is not savage to me," drily said Pierre, " and a man who deals with wolves does not want a lap-dog, mademoiselle. Pataud is true to his master, and would die for him any day. Would you not, Pataud ? Come, show made moiselle your tricks. Let me pull out that tooth of yours."

SILVIA. 19 Pataud obediently, though without much seeming enjoyment, opened his Avide mouth, in to which his master thrust his rough broAvn hand, and after going through the feint of extracting one of Pataud's double teeth, he withdrew it say ing composedly, and with a slight touch of re proach — " I do not think mademoiselle will call Pataud savage aster that. Savage !" he added, " why, the poor creature is as pretty and frisky as a kitten when he is well." " But Mademoiselle Nardi avUI remember that kittens do scratch," said Mr. Meredith emphatically, " and not try Pataud's patience again." An expressive shudder assured him that he need be under no uneasiness on that score. Still Mr. Meredith did not seem quite easy on that head, for as Silvia evidently intended staying with Pataud and Mrs. Jones, he came back from the door, which he had already reached, to say impressively, " Do promise me you will not touch that dog.

He is a true, honest creature, but he has had savage rearing, and would no more spare your hand than Baptiste's throat." " Touch him !" cried SUvia, with a shiver, C2 SILVIA. " my only Avonder is that you do, Mr. Meredith." "Oh! he would not bite me," he replied, smiling ; " besides, I brought the poor old fellow into trouble, and as I like him, such as he is, I do not mind the risk." " Then there is a risk ?" " Well, there generally is Avhen a poor creature is undergoing such severe pain as Pataud went through to have his wounds dressed." " You fear nothing," said Silvia looking up at him. She spoke in a low tone. Perhaps Mr. Meredith did not hear her, for merely saying, " Then I may rely that you will not meddle with Pataud," he left the place. "How could he do it?" said Silvia to Mrs. Jones, and sUe cautiously drew back a step or two from Pataud, Avho, poor fellow, was lying on his table stiff and helpless enough.

Mrs. Jones was anything but charmed Avith her guest. Mrs. Jones, like many mothers, could not understand that anything in the shape of affection should be diverted from her offspring, and Mrs. Jones now proceeded to express her feelings with a wonder verging on asperity. There never had been anything like it, said SILVIA. 21 Mrs. Jones, in her opinion at least. It was not so great a wonder, perhaps, that that great brown fellow of a keeper should make much of that savage old brute, being accustomed to deal with wolves and poachers; though to see how he went on when they brought her Pataud the day before, was something to remember." " They brought him here ?" said Silvia curiously. " Yes, miss, they did ; both of them carrying him Uke a Christian. If Pataud had been a child, miss, Mr. Meredith could not have made more of him," resentfully added Mrs. Jones, " nor Pierre gone on worse.

He stamped and cried and swore. He could not Uave done more if the creature had been a child," continued Mrs. Jones, stUl indignant that these proofs of affection should be wasted on " Pataud." "Do you think Pataud would have been in greater pain if he had been a child ?" asked Silvia composedly. Mrs. Jones stared. She was not one to be un kind to dumb beasts, she said, but miss knew they were not Christians. "No," replied Silvia, looking wistfully at Pataud's wrinkled brown face, in which languor SILVIA. and pain were written, " their poor flesh is not Christian, as you say, Mrs. Jones, but I suppose it can feel a wild beast's fangs just as acutely as if it were. Do give me some water, please; I am sure the creature is thirsty." Mrs. Jones, though she had been both kind and attentive to Pataud since he Avas under her care, looked as if she thought this a work of su pererogation, but obeyed ; and whilst Silvia gave the dog Avater, which he lapped up eagerly, she again gave her the whole history of his bring ing and of Pierre's grief, and of Mr. Meredith's kindness, and her own alarm, and John and William, whom she had locked up to keep them from the dog ; to Avhich prolix account Silvia, who had sat down, and still looked at Pataud, listened without answering, tUl she suddenly raised her head and said rather shortly, " What Avere you saying, Mrs. Jones ?"

" Why, only this, miss, that if, as people says, them as are kind to dumb creatures are kind to theh own, that Miss Gray you were speaking of will have as kind a husband as I ever saw." Silvia coloured and bit her lip. " Well, Mrs. Jones," she said gravely, " I am not sure about Miss Gray, you know. It may be all a mistake, you see." SILVIA. 23 "Well, miss, Mr. Meredith's kindness is no mistake at all eArents, and a kinder gentle man " Here an aAvful crash proceeding from the inner room in which John and WilUam were playing, and followed by the silence Avhich suc ceeds great catastrophes, made Mrs. Jones raise her hands to heaven in sudden dismay, and uttering a " My goodness ! what have they been a doing ?" she fleAv to the scene of the disaster, leaving SUvia alone Avith Pataud. He lay panting on his side unable to sth, now and then uttering a feeble Uttle moan, which went to SUvia's heart, and moved it Avith pity.

" I do not think he would bite me now," she thought ; for, cbUd-like, she was attracted by the A'ery danger of the terrible mastiffs teeth. She looked at them — how white, how sharp they were ! — and yet Silvia saw a sort of vague good-nature, very far in the background, it must be confessed, in Pataud's face. " I shall try him," she thought ; and Avithout hesitation or pause she put out her hand to him. Pataud, poor fellow, never minded it ; and Sil via, quite triumphant, was patting and caress ing him to her heart's content, when a reproving voice said behind her : SILVIA. " Mademoiselle Nardi !" " I have conquered Pataud," she replied, with out looking round ; " Ave are friends now. See ! he licks my hand, and I am sure he is no traitor." " He is not, but still do not trust him — pray do not."

Mr. Meredith, who had come back to give Mrs. Jones some directions concerning Pataud's welfare, spoke in vain. Silvia, without minding him, Avent on strok ing Pataud's brown head ; and when after a AvhUe she looked round, she found that Mr. Meredith was gone. She heard his voice speak ing to Mrs. Jones in the next room, then she saw him pass by the whidoAv, crossing the snoAvy farmyard. " He is not pleased because I too am friends with Pataud," thought Silvia ; " never mind, Pataud, we will be friends." Dogs as well as men and women have their whims and fancies. It pleased Pataud to per severe in his toleration of Silvia's caresses, and the consequence of his leniency was that she spent the best portion of that day in his com pany. She thus saAv Mr. Meredith and Pierre SILVIA. 25 again, but whilst Pataud's master expressed his admiration and surprise of Pataud's kindness, and very inconsistently praised his favourite's good-temper in the same breath, Mr. Meredith, strictly confining his attention to his patient, only took that notice of Silvia which polite ness required.

"I am sure he is jealous," she thought, "jealous that I too could prevail with Pataud. WeU, then, I shall like Pataud all the more, just to vex him." It was night, and Silvia Avas alone in her room as she came to this resolution of vexing Mr. Meredith. A lamp burned on her table, but her curtains were draAvn back, and through the frosty Avindow-panes a cold white moon looked in at her. The snoAvy garden lay beneath, a Siberian world, thought Silvia with a shiver. Then by a sudden transition her thoughts flew to the burning deserts of Africa, and to lion hunting ; then swiftly came back to Baptiste, and from him to Pataud, who had been quite affectionate at parting. " It would have distracted Mr. Meredith to have seen it," thought Silvia in childish triumph. SILVIA. She turned from the window, and moved to wards her bed ; then started back with a frightened cry as her feet sank in something soft and woolly.