The owl's nest in the city : a story

Front matter

New Novels At All Libraries. HOGAN, M.P. By A New Writer. Three volumes, crown 8vo, cloth. ' The author shows considerable power in handling his materials." — Spectator. ' Clever, and will be read with interest." — Athenæum. 'A most entertaining novel." — Examiner. ISRAEL MORT: Overman. By John Saunders. Three volumes, crown Svo, cloth. " His (Mr. Saunders') readers may pick up much valuable information, given in an interesting and exciting form, about the internal arrangements of coal-mines and the habits and feelings of colliers." — Times. " Mr. Saunders' book is mure than a novel, though regarded in that light it pos sesses abundant interest. . . . This mining story is most powerful." — Athenæum. IDA CRAVEN, By Mrs. H. M. Cadell. Two volumes, crown 8vo, cloth. " It is rarely that a novel of which the scene is laid in India is good. . . . ' Ida Craven' is a brilliant exception." — Athenæum.

"Mrs. Cadell diffuses a continual sunshine over her narrative by her own unflagging cheerfulness and good sense." — Examiner. HENRY S. KING & CO., LONDON. A STOEY By EDWARD LOVEL. Henry S. King & Co., London 1S76 [All rights reserved.']

Chapter I

" Thus had begins, but worse remains behind." — Shakspeare. Leading out of B Street in the City, there is — perhaps I should say was, it is long since I have seen the spot — an old-fashioned little square, called X Court. The entrance to it is under a lotv, broad archway ; and the square _ itself is composed, if my memory serves me well, of not more than four or five houses. The pavement of the court is grass-grown and de cayed ; the houses, which were once handsome family mansions, have a melancholy, tumble- A down, and, as the Scotch would say, uncanny look. The entrance halls are large and lofty, but rendered very dark and gloomy by the thick crust of dirt and cobwebs on the windows. The staircases are broad and handsome ; but the carved balustrades are so crooked and Avorm-eaten, that one is tempted to believe it is only their excessive greasiness that prevents them from crumbling under the touch.

I believe all of these houses are now divided into separate sets of offices or chambers, but the house in the right-hand corner of the court, wherein the events I am about to relate took place, was, at the time I speak of, entirely in the occupation of one legal firm, the firm of Pres cott and Earle. The offices of this firm Avere upon the ground floor. The upper stories Avere inhabited by Mr Prescott, with his family, and his partner, Mr Earle. I think I must have been about eight years of age Avhen my mother died, leaving me to CITA\ 3 the guardianship of my Uncle Prescott; and my nurse told me I aa _s to go to London to live with him. My father died in my infancy, and my mother had lived since his death in a retired village in Wales, from Avhich I Avas now despatched to London in charge of one of the clerks of the laAvyer Avho had arranged her affairs.

This clerk appeared to regard me simply as a sort of peculiarly inconvenient parcel to be delivered to my uncle, the right side upAArards. I remember, as if it Avere yesterday, the sinking of heart that came over me — it must have been an instinctive prevision of ill — when, after our long and Aveary journey to London, Ave entered X Court. Having been lamed by an accident Avhich occurred soon after my birth, and being extremely delicate in health, I had been from my infancy accustomed to live the life of a petted invalid. Incapable of joining in the sports of other children, I had been my mother's constant companion, and had already learned to observe and to think much, at an agfe when most children have done little else than laugh and play. No doubt Mr Slack, the clerk Avho accompanied me to London, must have been much bored with his sickly little companion.

He was not unkind to me ; but he made no attempt to render the journey less wearisome. Perhaps he was discouraged by my tears, for I think the only effort at con versation he made during the whole journey Avas when he asked me how old I Avas, and received for answer that I did not knoav. " Too old to be such a cry-baby, anyhow," said he ; but perceiving that my tears flowed the faster for this, he began to whistle " Yankee Doodle." To this day I never hear the tune without a vision rising before me of Mr Slack on the coach seat opposite me, whistling and looking at me all the while with his little green eyes half shut, his hands deep in his trousers pockets, and his whole attitude expressive of lordly contempt. This imposing spectacle awed me for a time, THE OWL'S NEST IN THE CIT\\ 5 but I soon became sufficiently accustomed to it to lapse again into tears, partly caused by grief for my mother, and partly by fears of my un knoAvn uncle.

When I Avas too tired to cry any more, I Avent to sleep ; and, indeed, my Avhole recollection of that interminable journey, by coach and railway from Wales to London, might be drearily summed up as sleep and tears. The noise and bustle of London completely terrified me, and when, after the roar of Cheap side, we turned into the comparative quiet of B — - — Street, I remember that I felt a sensation of great relief, and shut my eyes in the hope of forgetting my woes in sleep again ; but Mr Slack shook me roughly by the arm, saying: " Hold up, little one ; here we are ! " At that moment the hackney coach drove under the dark archway of X Court, and a chill ran through me — prophetic enough, though I knew it not — at the sudden gloom. THE OWL'S NEST IN THE CITY. I would have accepted any amount of noise and bustle then, in exchange for the ghostly look of my new home.

The dark hall, into the depths of which my eyes, Avearied by that morning's journey through the glare of an August sun, could not penetrate, Avas an awful place to me ; and though I had certainly no reason to love my companion, I remember that I clung very closely to him as we stumbled up the uneven stairs, and begged him very earnestly not to leave me in that horrid house. " Nonsense, child," said Mr Slack, sharply, knocking at the outer door on the first floor ; "why, this is your uncle's house, where you are goinoto live ! " The ready tears ran down my cheeks again at this ; but I attempted no further entreaties. At that moment the door was opened by a dirty, ugly, old woman, with a broom in her hand, a cap of no particular shape perched very much awry on the top of her head, and some straggling grey hair sticking out fantastically underneath it.

I was deeply read in fairy lore, and instantly set her down in my own mind for a malevolent Mother Bunch. She took me gently by the hand, however ; and wiping away my tears Avith her greasy apron, recently intimate Avith raw onions, she said to Mr Slack — " So this is the little lame nephew, I suppose ? " " Yes, ma'am," said he ; " and a precious bore he 's been to bring ! " I hid my face against the apron on hearing this, while the old woman rejoined — " Ah, of course — of course ! Children is, you knoAV, a great bother ! " At this encouraging remark my tears flowed faster than ever. I had seen Mr Slack's con tempt for my weakness, but had unconsciously attributed it to the peculiar loftiness of that gentleman's spirit ; and this view of the case Avas new to me. I had never dreamed that children were "a bother."

My mother and her one servant, who had been my nurse, had certainly thought nothing a trouble that could brighten the existence of their lame darling ; and, with the unconscious egotism of childhood, I had accepted their untiring devotion without for an instant realising the trouble I gave. A sense of degradation was now added to my former dejection, which was quite overwhelm ing to me. " Mr Prescott ain't in," continued the old Avoman ; " most like he 's in the office below — first door on the right when you get down the stairs. You can leave the child with me." " All right," said Mr Slack, running doAvn stairs Avithout a Avord of adieu to me. The old woman shut the door; my last brittle link Avith Wales was broken, and I was alone among strangers. She now took me up in her arms and carried me upstairs to her kitchen, Avhich, strangely enough (but everything Avas odd and strange in that queer house), Avas on the top floor.

Then seating me on the table before her, she said, " There, there, be quiet, can't you ? Avhat are you crying for noAv, eh ? " The Avords Avere rough, but the tone Avas not unkindly. I did not exactly knoAV Avhat I Avas crying for at that minute, but I kneAv vaguely and generally that I aa „s intensely Avretched ; so making an uncon scious summary of that Avretchedness and its cause, I sobbed out, " Mother's dead." Hereupon the old Avoman took me in her arms again, and sitting doAvn upon a Ioav chair by the fire, began to rock backwards and for- Avards, saying, " Ah, poor lamb, worse luck, Avorse luck! but then, you see, the Lord took her, and she 's gone to heaven ; and isn't that a deal better than if she 'd run aAvay and left you ?" I could see but little meaning in her words ; but there was pity and consolation in her tone, and to be once again held to any woman's bosom and spoken softly to, after two Avhole days of contempt and Yankee Doodle, was soothing and comforting to my spirit.

My tears gradually grew less and less, and at last ceased altogether. The old woman then gave me some tea and cold meat ; and when I had finished she said, " Now, come and see your cousins." Taking me by the hand she led me first through a long unlighted passage, passing by several half-open doors, leading to ghostly-looking unfurnished rooms, and then downstairs into the large hall on the first floor, where I was very uncomfortably surprised by seeing a hid den doorway in the panelling suddenly open, and a tall, pale, thin man appear at the top of a narrow-winding staircase in the dark open ing. " There 's your uncle, child," said my conductor ; " make your bow." I believe I did attempt some sort of an awk- Avard boAV ; but the expression of my uncle's face Avas cold and uninviting, and he had made his appearance in so supernatural a manner — the very door having vanished again — that I felt anything but comfortable, and clung very tightly to the old woman's gOAvn, resisting her attempts to push me towards him.

" So this is poor little Ned, is it ? " said my uncle. " Is he very lame, Mrs Withers ? Come here, child." I did not stir. " Lame enough, indeed, sir," ansAvered Mrs Withers, " and never likely to be good for much, I 'm thinking, worse luck." " Hum ! " said my uncle, " he looks sharp enough, in all conscience ; why, his face is like a weasel." It has often struck me as strange that grown people will not unfrequently discuss a child's defects in its presence, with as much coolness and indifference as if it were a statue. Yet children are painfully sensitiA _ on such sub jects, and their averted looks and tingling cheeks generally speak plainly enough of the flutteringand burning of the little heart that is needlessly wounded by such thoughtless and unfeeling Avords. My uncle now opened the door of one of the front rooms, and beckoning to me, said, " Here, Ned, come and see your cousins."

Curiosity impelled me forward. I left Mrs Withers' protection and followed him. " Here, James," he cried, addressing a boy of about my own age, who was seated at the table labori ously inscribing moral instances in a copy-book, "• this is your little Welsh cousin, Ned. Dick, you rascal, get down this moment ; how dare you spoil the furniture in that Avay ! " This was addressed to a fine, handsome boy, who was sitting astride on one of the arms of an old black horsehair sofa, and flogging the same with all his might, evidently glorying in the blissful illusion that he Avas galloping at full speed. The lad addressed as James came shyly toAA_rds me and timidly held out his hand. He Avas nearly as pale and cold-looking as his father, and as he fixed his dark eyes on me, I Avas struck with the strange resemblance betAveen them.

Before I had time to take his hand, Dick, Avho had jumped off the sofa, Avhen my uncle spoke, ran up to me, saying, " Hoav d' ye do, cousin ? can you play at horses ? See here, you shall be my horse." His SAveet, frank, cordial smile delighted me, and I held out my arms Avillingly enough, in order to alloAv him to fasten around them the cord he held in his hand, when my uncle said, fiercely, " Hold your tongue, sir; don't you see the lad is lame ? This is your cousin James," he added, turning to me ; " take his hand, he will play Avith you." I did as I was bid ; but I could not remove my eyes from the rebel, Dick, who was making faces at my uncle, and sparring at him behind his back. Led by my fixed look of astonishment, Mr Prescott turned round, and, catching him in the act, hit him a sharp box on the ear, which the offender received without a cry, though his face turned crimson with rage and pain.

He flew at my uncle like a Avild cat, striving to bite and scratch in return ; Avhen Mrs Withers, coming in, got between them, saying, " Let him be, sir, let him be ; blood is blood, worse luck, and it ain't no fault of his'n." These mysterious words appeared to produce some effect. Mr Prescott turned aAvay and looked at the copy-book in which James had been writing. " Good lad," he said, with some approach to softness of manner, " you '11 soon be of use in the office, I declare. Mrs Withers," he added, " I am going out ; let the children play together and make acquaintance before they go to bed." Mrs Withers gave a sort of grunt in reply. She did not appear to be of a demonstrative nature. As soon as the door shut upon Mr Prescott, Dick buried his red face in the greasy apron, and burst into a passion of tears.

" Give over, child, give over," she Avhispered, "he'll hear you. The other lad looked on for a while in silence and then went up to Dick and said, "Never mind, Dicky dear, father's gone out now." " I hate him, I hate him," sobbed Dick ; Avhile Mrs Withers vainly tried to quiet him, and I gazed at the scene in silent horror. It was all unspeakably dreadful to me. I had never seen a bloAV given to a child in my life, and I fear my young heart echoed the pas sionate words, " I hate him." Gradually poor Dick sobbed himself to sleep in Mrs Withers' arms. Neither James nor I ventured to move or speak; the room grew darker and drearier every moment, and the silence, broken only by an occasional uncon scious sob from the sleeping boy, became dreadfully oppressive to a. sensitive, nervous child like me.

At last the old woman rose, and bidding us follow her, carried Dick upstairs into a large, meagrely-furnished, carpetless bed-room, undressed him, and placed him, still asleep, in one of two uncurtained beds ; then, telling James to make haste and go to bed, she beck oned me to follow her out of the room. Open ing the door of a dismal-looking chamber opposite, in Avhich stood a tall funereal four-post bed, she told me I was to sleep there. This last blow, after so much agitation and distress, Avas overwhelming. The remembrance of my pretty little white-curtained room in Wales came vividly before me ; I called to mind hoAV care fully my nurse, Jenny, always set open the door of communication, that I might see the cheerful light in my mother's room. The oppressive gloom around me seemed even more unsup portable by the contrast, and I clung as tight as I could to Mrs Withers, exclaiming, in such terror as I think only nervous children knoAv, " O rha'am !

I can't, I can't, indeed — I cannot sleep in this dreadful room." " God bless the child, .how he trembles ! " said the old woman, vainly endeavouring to disengage herself from my clinging hands. " There isn't another bed ready in the whole house ; you must sleep here, I tell you." "I AA_-n't! I can't!" said I, screaming out the words in a perfect agony of desperation and terror. Mrs Withers hesitated a few moments, and then, as if struck by a sudden idea, she returned to the room Avhere we had left the two other children, I still clutching fast at her gown, and taking up the sleeping Dick in her arms, she carried him into the dreaded chamber, and Q 9 B laying him doAvn in the hearse-like bed, said : " Look here, you silly child ; Dicky will sleep with you ; he ain't afraid of nothing, he ain't." Then holding the candle to his face, she added, " See if he don't look for all the world like a blessed angel."

Children have generally, I think, but little perception of the beautiful ; but I well remem ber hoAV completely I felt the truth of her words, and hoAV the sense of them comforted me. Dick's long eyelashes were still glistening with tears, and his cheeks were flushed and heated, but his lips were parted with a happy, tranquil smile, and his bright golden hair seemed to me indeed like the halo round the angel's head in a picture of the Annunciation I remembered in my mother's room at home, Avhich I had loved for its calm sanctity and beauty, though with out any perception of its meaning. I felt soothed and tranquillised without knowing why, and allowed Mrs Withers to undress me and lay me by his side, without attempting any further resistance. I cannot tell hoAv James liked the loneliness in which he aa_s left, for Mrs Withers took no heed of him, and my OAvn terrors had absorbed me so entirely that I had forgotten his exist ence.

I could not sufficiently compose myself to repeat the simple prayers my mother had taught me, but I felt dreadfully wicked for the omission, and went to sleep Avith the burden of this, to me, terrible crime, added to the load of misery and unhappiness which was already sufficiently heavy on my young heart. Per haps I should have felt it even more, had I knoAvn then hoAV little chance there Avas of my resuming the habit. I have dwelt thus long upon the small inci dents of my first day at X Court, partly because even at this distance of time every word and look that passed on that, to me, ever memor able day, are as vividly impressed upon my memory as if they had been photographed on my brain, and partly because, when I look back upon the dreary years that immediately succeeded, it stands forth in my recollection as a sort of typical day, alike representing the trials of that period of my life, and shadowing forth the deeper sorroAvs of the future.

Chapter II

" I never married — but I think I know That sons should not' be educated so." — Byron. The next morning I was awakened by hearing Dick moving about the room. I shall never forget the dismal wretchedness of that Avaking. Startled Avhen I first opened my eyes upon the dark curtains and hangings of the bed, it Avas some moments before I clearly understood Avhere I a\ _s ; and Avhen the sad events of the past week recurred to me one by one, a sense of hopelessness and oppression came over me, such as I hope few children have ever knoAvn. It seemed to weigh me down, and I made no effort to rise, until Dick, who was already half dressed, called out to me that I had better make haste, or I should " catch it." I had no distinct idea of what he meant by " catching it," but I saw plainly enough that it was a threat of evil, and I slowly and awkwardly attempted, for the first time in my life, to put on my own clothes.

While I was thus engaged, my eyes fell upon the portrait of a lady which hung over the fire place. The brilliant eyes and bright golden hair reminded me immediately of Dick ; but the hopeless, sullen, and resentful expression puzzled me. When I looked at his bright, cloudless, generous face, I doubted whether my first idea that the portrait resembled him was correct. I was nevertheless so attracted by the picture, that I could scarcely remove my eyes from it ; and after looking from it to Dick, and turning to it again for the hundredth time, I at last took courage to ask him : " Who is that ? " The question was answered by James, who came in at that moment to call us to breakfast. " That is mother," said he, and then I fancied the picture also resembled him. Where is she noAv ? " said I " She is dead," he answered ; " come to breakfast."

" She didn't die, she ran away," said Dick " Ran aAvay ! " said I, in astonishment ; " why did she run away ? Who frightened her ? " " She is dead," repeated James solemnly ; " father said so." " It 's a lie," said Dick, doggedly. " I mean to run away, too, when I 'm a big boy," he whispered to me, "and then I'll go and be a soldier." In the breakfast-room I saw my uncle's partner, Mr Earle. He 'was standing at the window with a bundle of letters and papers in his hand ; a tall, handsome man, far superior to Mr Prescott in manner and appearance ; young as I was I felt the difference at once. He smiled at me, and held out his hand. What was it that made me shrink away from his smile ? He was very like the portrait of his sister which had fascinated me so much ; but there was a something in his look that I feared and disliked.

He took no notice of my reluctance to approach him, and seated himself at the break fast-table opposite Mr Prescott, without speak ing. My uncle read the newspaper during the whole meal, and appeared unconscious of our presence. Mr Earle occasionally looked from one to another, as he broke the seals of his letters, but did not take the trouble to address us. James, who sat silently eating his break fast by his father's side, appeared like his image cut out in little. Dick drew figures upon the table-cloth, and rolled up the crumbs of his bread into little balls. There was no want of anything at the break fast-table except cleanliness ; but the air of disorder and neglect around me, so different to the neatness and precision to which I had been accustomed, took away my appetite. No one presided ; but each rose in turn, and helped himself to a cup of tea, or a slice of cold meat, Avithout either inviting or appearing to remem ber the presence of the others.

I had never cut a slice of meat, nor poured out a cup of tea, in my life ; no one offered me anything, and as I had no courage to ask, I sat mournfully looking at the table-cloth until Mr Earle abruptly asked me if I meant to starve myself, adding, that if I Avanted my breakfast, I had better make haste, as it Avas time to go to school. Upon this I rose, and contrived, awkwardly enough, to pour out a cup of tea. I spilled a great deal upon the table-cloth in my confusion ; but that did not add much to the unwholesomeness of its appearance, for it was much stained and very dirty already. I whispered to Dick, who was playing with the knife, to cut me a piece of bread, whereupon he presented me with a huge misshapen piece of crust, which took away the little appetite I had, and before I had gathered courage to attack it, my uncle rang the bell, and Mrs Withers appeared to carry away the tray.

She came into the room with her broom in her hand, and, indeed, I afterwards observed that she was seldom to be seen without it, though I am not aware that she ever used it to the end for Avhich brooms are supposed to have been created. There was no change in her appearance, unless it may be that her cap was a little more awry, and suggested the idea that she had been to bed in it. She asked me, rather sharply, why I did not eat my breakfast. My uncle looked up from his newspaper, and said, " The child is dainty, I suppose ; but he '11 soon get the better of that here." The ever-ready tears began to roll down my cheeks at this, and the two boys stared at me in astonishment. Hap pening to look up at that moment, I saw that Mr Earle was laughing at me ; pride came to my aid, and, gulping doAvn my grief by a strong effort, I said I Avas not hungry, and walked to the AvindoAv to hide my confusion.

The tAvo lads noAv ran for their hats and books, in order to start for school, and my uncle, putting a letter to the schoolmaster into my hand, desired me to follow them. Here upon Mrs Withers put my cap on my head so as effectually to cover my eyes, which I have observed older people generally do when they put children's hats on for them. She cautioned my cousins not to Avalk too fast for me, and slipped a slice of bread and butter into my hand for me to eat as I went along. At first I felt too dejected to eat ; but Dick, who was two years older than I, and very strong for his age, took hold of my arm to help me downstairs with so much gentleness that I felt quite consoled, and before we reached the school door, my bread and butter were consumed. As we went in Dick whispered to me : " If any of the boys bully you, you just tell me, that's all.

" And to do him justice he certainly fought all my battles for me like a young lion, and soon taught all the lads to respect my infirmity. Poor Dick ! even then there was something of the knight-errant about him ; he was nobler, juster, and more generous than the rest of us. It is useless to describe our school. I suppose it was much like other day-schools, but we had the good fortune to have a kind and clever teacher, who possessed the art of interesting us in our lessons, and I think we learned more, and with less reluctance, than most boys, and, possibly because we had no happy home to contrast it with, we did not dislike school. I had long learned to find pleasure in books. James plodded on patiently, because it was his nature to be patient and industrious, and Dick was so clever that the usher took a pride in bringing him forward.

On the whole, though Ave Avorked hard, Ave Avere certainly far happier at school than at home. When we went home in the evening, there was no one to meet us, or to inquire into our progress. We let ourselves in with a latch-key, and I really believe we learned our lessons because there was nothing else to do. When Mrs Withers was ready Avith our supper, she used to lean over the banisters Avith the eternal broom in her hand, and call to us to go upstairs into the kitchen, where the meal was prepared and spread out in a disorderly manner, upon a table Avithout a cloth. Supper over, the old woman always drove us downstairs again, because our noise gave her the fidgets, as she said ; but, in reality, I think, because our presence interfered with the enjoy ment of the contents of a certain teapot, which used to be brought down from a shelf upon our departure, the smell of which suggested no thoughts of the herb that cheers but not inebriates.