Victory at Last. A tale

Front matter

A TALE. BY E. G. MAY. 'in cruce vinco.' LONDON : ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C. 1892. CONTENTS. CHAPTER PACE I. GLIMMERINGS OF LIGHT - - - - t II. FAREWELLS - - - - - 9 III. OAKLAND!. - - - - - - - 19 IV. AT BREAKFAST - - - - - - 28 V. A NEW GLIMPSE OF LIFE - - - - - 37 VI. LIFE'S WORK - - - - - - 43 VII. NEWS FROM EGYPT - - - - - 55 VIII. ' DO OR DIE '----- 68 IX. THE DEPTH OF MRS. ARMITAGE'S ANXIETY - - 76 X. ERNESTINE AMIDST LIFE'S SHADES - - 89 XI. FRESH SCENES ------ 104 XII. PORLOCK WOODS - - - - - 112 XIII. COLONEL DEARING SHOWN OUT . - - - 126 XIV. GWENDOLINE'S TRUE CHARACTER REVEALS ITSELF - I39 XV. GWENDOLINE GOES DOWN THE RIVER OF LIFE - - 1 53 XVI. IT CANNOT BE ----- 167 XVII. ERNESTINE LEAVES OAKLANDS - - - - l8l XVIII. LET TRUTH BE YOUR GOAL ... - 192 XIX. CAPTAIN GRANT OPENS HIS MOTHER'S EYES • - 202 XX 'IS IT TO BE "YES" OR " NO " ?' - - - : A STORY OF OUR OWN TLMES.

Chapter I. Glimmerings Of Light

Where is the spell to charm those mists away, And make new morning in that darksome day ? One draught of spring's delicious air, One stedfast thought, that God is there !' Keble. ' So dies a hero right worthy to be worshipped,' muttered Colonel Kingsley, as he stood gazing from his window on the green of the barrack-square of K , which looked lonely, weird and sad beneath the clear rays of moon light. Schiller had made use of the quotation years and years gone by ; and yet as Colonel Kingsley thought of England's hero stemming the tide of Arab war in the Soudan alone and unaided ; of his giving up kindred and friends for the sake of securing peace and freedom for the unhappy, persecuted slaves ; of the grand, noble, earnest life he had lived, his heart sank within him as he dwelt on the awful loss England had sustained, and his thoughts took utterance in words spontaneously spoken by one whose race of life was but a thing of the past—' So dies a hero right worthy to be worshipped.' Yes, Colonel Kingsley now knew it was only too true that Gordon's sun had set amidst the darkness that broods over Khartoum ; that his life-work was over, and England was bereft of one of the greatest and grandest of her men.

It had been a trying day for Colonel Kingsley, as well as for many others. He himself was under orders to leave the following day for Portsmouth, where he was to embark on one of the many transports leaving for Egypt with officers and men who were required to take part in the expected campaign. He had offered his services at the War Office, and they had been accepted, although his regiment was not amongst the number ordered off. There were lines of deep care and anxiety on his brow this evening. Notwithstanding he was but forty-eight years old, a stranger looking at him would most likely have credited him with several more years. Perhaps it was owing to the fact that life for some time past had been none too smooth for him. His young wife's death, after a lingering illness of several months, had been a terrible blow to him — such a wrenching asunder of heart-strings that friends stood aghast, trembling to offer the usual words of sympathy and condolence generally considered necessary on such an occasion.

His was a brave, earnest character, shrinking at no self denial, making no outward sign of his inner troubles, but ever going forward and doing what he believed to be his duty. ' Duty ' and ' Love of humanity ' were his watch words. It was a strange, complex nature he had, -one which caused him to be very tender-hearted and gentle with any form of suffering, whether among men or seen in the dumb GLIMMERINGS OF LIGHT. 3 creation ; one, too, which ever prompted him to be making efforts for the welfare of his fellow-creatures, which made him care little for fame or notoriety, and yet, alas ! a nature which, much as it craved for the ' indefinable some thing,'could find no comfort in the thought of immortality and the life beyond, for the simple reason that he had no faith in either. The many nominal Christians and the falseness and looseness of their professions were his secret abhorrence.

The laxity, worldliness, backbitings, and quarrellings of some of religion's warmest supporters had determined him when a youth to have done with a religion which seemed all cant and no truth. Had he not thought and thought, read and read until his mind became so involved in atheistic doubt and perplexity that he determined to abandon ' religion ' altogether, and to live for the social advantage of man alone ? Had not terrible deeds been perpetrated again and again in the name of ' religion ' ? What awful dark days Spain witnessed in the time of the Inquisition ! what terror Queen Mary's name had brought to the simple followers of Christ ! Had not Smithfield made itself notorious to all ages? What deeds of fanaticism and hatred had been prompted alike by Oliver Cromwell and John Knox ! Did not even the Pilgrim Fathers, who Aid from England to America to gain an asylum for religious freedom, refuse the slightest toleration to others differing from themselves?

Did not Baptists, Quakers and Roman Catholics alike suffer at their hands ? Amongst the 'noble band of martyrs ' what thousands and thousands had suffered through man's perverted zeal, bigotry, and cruelty from time immemorial ! Were not these deeds counten anced and applauded because done in the name of ' religion '? Colonel Kingsley had as a boy brooded long over these i — dark ages of the past, and then he had thought of his own days — these nineteenth-century days of refinement and civilization. No longer were Smithfield's fires burning, no longer were poor victims tortured by thumb-screw and rack, no longer were there fights with sanguinary beasts in the theatres of Rome ; but yet a minor persecution did rage did rage, forsooth, within the folds of Christendom. How often could the voice of slander be heard, how often un kindly dealing be noticed, and how often were divisions raised amongst men calling themselves honest Christians !

A grand mistake it was that Colonel Kingsley in his early days had not studied the subject in a wider and deeper form. Maybe it would have made him more lenient and charitable in his judgments if he could have realized that strive as man may after perfection, it is only found and fully attained in the world to come. Although when Christianized he endeavours to strike off the chains of sin, he finds it is not all done in a moment, it is a work of time — a constant progress now and hereafter. So Colonel Kingsley as a boy had argued, and thus had allowed himself to become the victim of atheism. Hence the Bible had become to him a sealed book — a book of mysteries, beautiful in its poetry and sublimity, but seemingly so contradictory in its evidences and statements that his somewhat metaphysical mind refused to acknowledge it as the truth, as the revealing of hidden secrets in the unseen world, and so would not worship the Nazarene as Lord and Saviour.

Years since then had passed by without altering his opinions. His wife's death, and the utter improbability of ever again meeting her, once more raised the storm of thought and doubt in his brain. Had he not watched her lying still and motionless in death, believing her to have passed into oblivion for ever ? GLIMMERINGS OF LIGHT. 5 What would he not have given then to have been able to pierce the mystery shrouding that passing away, and to have sifted the Christian's doctrine of ' Immortality'? Hitherto he had been content to believe in no God, to believe all was the work of 'Chance,' and that man after death returned but to the dust — so helping on the ' economy of Nature ' — and lived no more. But the sight of that cold motionless form produced mental strife once more in Colonel Kingsley.

What if for years and years he had lived in error ? What if man had a never-dying spirit ? Then whither couid her spirit have fled ? But how useless such thoughts ! Had he not settled in early life to believe in death as a passing away into outer darkness — a light extinguished never to be re-kindled, never to shine more ? He knew he had, and yet the thought now was a harrowing one. It was a question that must be settled, for it was the eve of his departure, and who could say whether he would return or no ? The glittering stars in the dark vault above, the calm radiance of the moon telling of other worlds and space immeasurable, seemed but to excite the worn and harassed brain ; for did they not in their nocturnal loveliness and majesty tell only too plainly they were the work of a Creator, of an Almighty Being, of an everlasting God ? ' When I consider Thy heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the stars which Thou hast ordained, what is man ?' The words flashed as a meteor across the memory of Colonel Kingsley. 'Ah, what is man?' he soliloquized. ' A sort of plantation — part of the material world, though endued with intelligence and motor and sensory nerves — part of the earth "earthy," so, in fact, helping to make up the laws of natural economy, and a being capable of doing good and evil, of discerning right and wrong.' But the spirit ! what had first given it birth — whence had it come ?

Who was the primeval cause of all? What agencies had worked — had brought order out of chaos, light out of darkness, and invested this earth of ours and the heavenly bodies with beauty and life — or rather, what was the beginning of time? Why should suffering and misery reign predominant if there were a God? Could a God be a God of love and yet allow unmitigated evil to reign and bring forth fruit ? His wife had passed away with a smile of joy on her lips, murmuring words of peace and happiness that 'she had no fear, for she was going to Jesus ' — the same Nazarene he refused to recognise, but who was to her such a living reality, the Being of all virtue and truth, and the essence of love — of love so deep that it had prompted Him to leave the regions of heavenly bliss to die for man as a malefactor.

He was glad she had the delusion, since it had comforted her — had helped her to face death bravely and un flinchingly. She, gentle woman, had urged him lovingly to seek the truth, to pray for light so that their earthly union, so full of joy, would some day be a heavenly union — a meeting in the home above, with no alloy, no weariness to mar it in the slightest. And Colonel Kingsley, clasping the little frail hand, had promised to give himself no rest until he sought and found the truth — whatever the truth might be — even if it were to lead to the uprooting and scattering of his present opinions, and to the embracing of doctrines he despised and hated. She had passed away, and Colonel Kingsley and his two children were left behind awhile to face the bustling, restless world, and to play their part in life.

Three years had gone by since then — years of groping in darkness and yearning for light to Colonel Kingsley, who was longing to reach the goal ' Truth,' and to lay aside the weapons of warfare and to feel at rest. And now as he stood by his window he GLIMMERINGS OF LIGHT. 7 thought of her, and then of the grand life just closed through treachery beneath an African sun, whose death was now striking a funeral knell in every heart from the poorest to the greatest. General Gordon had lived for all, but for God above all, and through God for them all. Colonel Kingsley knew he had been a man who had conscientiously lived up to his religious convictions and knowledge, and he now felt if he could but have had an hour's conversation with him on the soul's immortality, if he could have been made to look at ' Truth ' from the same light as Gordon himself had done, perhaps then it would have helped him to fathom the darkness and to see where, what and who was the grand cause and originator of all.

It was his promise to his dead wife that had again ruffled the turbid waters of his soul, and had raised the demon of strife and unsettled thought once more. For her sake he endeavoured to pierce the darkness ; for her sake, too, he had allowed his children to be taught the Christian's belief and abstained from all atheistic and anti-religious utterances when in their presence. The ' Truth ' would reveal itself, he felt sure, and for that grand revealing he would wait patiently. As has been said before, it had been a trying day to him ; the anticipated parting with his children on the morrow, and the uncertainty which hung over the prospect of their re-union, both combined to unnerve him, and to make him long for a ' rock of strength ' on which to rest and to escape from the unruly tempest within.

He knew his children would be well cared for by rich relations, whatever befell him ; but that promise to the dead wife ! If unkept, was it not enough — if her belief were true — to disturb the gentle spirit in her celestial abode, and to cause her sorrow even ' there '? He groaned in spirit as he turned from the window, but opening carelessly a book lying on the table (a book containing extracts of great men's lives) his eyes fastened on the words : ' God is truth, love, wisdom and all might. We are, as it were, blind. By degrees He opens our eyes, and enables us by dint of sore trial to know Him little by little. Every time the flesh is foiled by the spirit, so often is a rent made in the veil, and we know more of God. Every time the reverse takes place, so often does the veil again fall and God disappears from our view.

When death occurs the veil is rent altogether, and no mystery remains. The flesh is finally vanquished by the spirit, who lives the conqueror of his lifelong foe. The doctrines of men thicken this veil, and the first thing for acceptance of truth is to unlearn human doctrines and become as a little child.' ■ — Charles Gordon. 'God is truth!' Was it a voice from the 'unknown'? Was it a word from him whose life, above all, he admired, and who had passed the border-land of time, and was where no ' time ' is ? Could England's greatest and bravest of soldiers have foreseen the mystery and fog which would engulf some men's souls in atheistic blackness and so have penned words which would speak forth the truth, when the living voice was hushed in death ? It may be so — we leave it unanswered, and watch the weary man, as with sudden resolve and partially-cleared brow, he bends the knee once more in supplication to the God whom for twenty-eight long years he has abjured and denounced, and says aloud : ' Lord, if Thou art Truth, if Thou art from everlasting, if Thou art the primeval cause of all, if Thou art life after death, reveal Thyself — let darkness be light'

Chapter II. Farewells

' Thou hast made us for Thyself, and our heart is restless till it resteth in Thee.' — St. Augustine. ' Daddy dear, when shall you be back ? I do wish you would stay and be a soldier at home. Hughy and I will miss you so very terribly, and I don't like going to Aunt Jeanette, for she is so strange and grand ;' and the youthful speaker accompanied her words by putting her arms lovingly round Colonel Kingsley's neck, as she leant against his shoulder, and kissed him repeatedly. ' So little Gwendoline would like me to be a soldier at home — only a soldier where there would be no chance of fighting?' inquired Colonel Kingsley tenderly, as he caressed the rough, brown curly hair — so like his own — and con tinued : ' I don't think you would really wish it to be the case, for you are too brave and sensible for that.

Don't you know, Gwen darling, a man, by wearing the Queen's uniform, shows he is one of her servants, and one whose privilege, as well as right, it is to defend her country from all enemies, and to fight her battles in other lands when occasion requires ? You must look forward to my return, and take care of Hughy and yourself till I come home.' ' But, father, what if you were to be killed like others VECTOR Y AT LAST. 10 often are— what would happen then?' and Gwendoline Kingsley clung passionately to her father as the horrible thought put itself into words. A look of deep, unspoken pain crossed Colonel Kings ley's face on hearing the question, for the words brought back so forcibly the conflict of the past night. ' Gwen, child, you must not look forward too much and conjure up nightmares.

Think of your father's sword — what that will do — and believe that that will carry him safe through all the dangers. But say the worst did happen, would you not far rather your father died a grand, glorious death fighting for his country than to die merely from old age or from one of the ills or accidents which may befall our poor bodies at any time?' Gwendoline, ignoring most of her father's question, loosened her hold of him, and gazing earnestly into Colonel Kingsley's eyes, asked with subdued fervour : ' Daddy, was General Gordon very brave ?' ' Brave, Gwen ! why, he was one of the bravest and greatest of men. He feared no foe, no pain or suffering of any kind, when good was to come to others through it ; also he died in harness, child, such as I hope will some day be my lot. Don't you remember my telling you of his grand life in China, and then of the six years he passed at Gravesend, in which he did good to numbers of wretched little urchins — mere children of the mud, and tried to educate them and get them work, and, we may be sure, gave them the chance of becoming better men than they would otherwise have been ?' ' Yes, daddy, I remember it,' and an anxious look took the place of the hitherto resolute, earnest gaze in the young girl's eyes, and she said pathetically : ' Oh, father, if I could but be a soldier, too !

Girls can do nothing brave or great' FAREWELLS. 11 ' Can't they though, Gwen ! Why, don't you think all little things, if done from a high motive — from the wish of doing good to one's fellow-creatures — whether it is the kindly word spoken to a person in trouble, the patience exercised, or the obedience rendered to an absent parent, or anything else of a similar nature, are great in a certain sense ? At any rate, doing all these strengthens the character and fits it for greater work in after-life. Of course, the chief wish of us all should be to live for man — to strive to raise him to a higher scale, morally and socially. Do you understand me, Gwen, or am I speaking too deeply for you ?' ' No, father, I understand quite well ; but, father, we must try to please God too, mustn't we ?' 'Yes, yes, child, of course,' Colonel Kingsley returned uneasily ; ' do whatever you knowr to be right But one thing more, and it is this — remember, I trust Hugh to your care ; look after him, don't let him fret for me, and be sure and write every mail to let me know how you both go on ; and whatever happens, don't let harm come to Hughy.' ' Father, you may trust me — I'm your own daughter.

I shall not forget anything you have said ; but here comes Hughy,' as, the door opening, a little boy of five years old bounded in. Gwendoline's features bore a wonderful resemblance to her father's — the same dark gray eyes, firmly-cut mouth, wide expansive forehead, and somewhat long aquiline nose might be observed in each ; but what made a handsome face in Colonel Kingsley's case, in Gwendoline's, at fourteen years old, was a countenance plain and rather heavy look ing. Only those in constant communication with her, and who noticed the kindling and flashing of her eye when excited by surrounding circumstances or stirred by deep thought, could and did say that Gwendoline Kingsley would one day be a remarkable, if not a beautiful-looking woman. She was a strange child to comprehend ; people often thought her proud, cold and repellent.

They could not understand the outer crust of shyness which covered over and veiled from view depths of loving tenderness, earnestness and bravery. Her father even hardly guessed the passionate love she bore him and her little brother, nor how hearing of great and noble actions stirred within her the longing and desire to live for others, and to emulate the deeds she heard others had done. Any close observer or physiognomist would not have gone far wrong if he had said it was hopeless to expect a nature like Gwendoline's to pass through the world without much pain. How often that proud, shy look would be misunderstood ; the cold words criticised and found fault with ; the deeply sensitive feelings wounded by galling and indifferent remarks on those she loved ; how, too, from intensity of reserve and depth of feeling which failed to find words for utterance, her loving affections would be slighted and overlooked.

Yet Gwendoline, with a child's faith and heedlessness of the future, lived her little life and dreamed her youthful dreams — the part one day she was to play in the great drama of life, its shifting scenes, its sunlight and joyous ness, and its golden curtain of light at the closing of eventide. Hugh, Gwendoline's junior by eight years, was a lovely child, fair and beautiful as his mother had been before sick ness had robbed her of her beauty. Alas ! he inherited the same delicacy of constitution, likewise the same timidity and tenderness of heart, which hardly boded well for him in days to come, when a grown man. Colonel Kingsley clasped his little son in his arms, and then placed him on his knee. Hugh's were mingled feel- FAREWELLS. 13 ings that morning. There was a welling of sorrow in the little heart, and yet a strange satisfaction that 'father' was going away, for ' father ' was always so especially nice on days like these.

Hugh had an urgent request to make, so thought there was no occasion like the present one for obtaining all he wished. Thus he determined to stifle his feelings of regret at the coming separation, because it could only be for a little time, he thought, as Colonel Kingsley never remained longer from them than he was obliged. ' Father,' he began coaxingly, ' do you know nursie has a birthday one day, and I do want to buy her a present so badly ; she gave me a horse and cart on mine, and I thought I would like to buy her something very nice — very nice indeed.' ' Well, Hughy, what is it to be — not a horse and cart surely?' Colonel Kingsley asked smilingly. 'No, father, not that; but I thought a trumpet, and p'raps a box of soldiers — cavalry ones, father — real beauties ; you will give me the money to buy them, won't you?' Colonel Kingsley laughed heartily, in spite of his depression, at the idea of his children's nurse, good old Mrs. Brown, who numbered sixty years, being made the recipient of a trumpet and some cavalry soldiers.

He checked himself, however, and said : ' Yes, Hughy, nurse shall have a present ; but can't you think, Gwen, of something more suitable?— I mean, because she is a woman,' Colonel Kingsley added, as he noticed a shade of disappointment creep over his little son's face at his words. 'Yes, father,' Gwen responded; ' I know exactly the thing. Soldiers won't do, Hughy ; she must have spectacles, because she is getting so blind, and can't see to find anything.' ' Ah yes, that's my sensible Gwen ; but how much will it be to buy them ? But stop, here is a sovereign for each of you to buy what you like, and then you can get the birthday present and keep the rest for lollipops.' But here the conversation was stopped by the door opening to admit a young man, both tall and fair, who came forward saying cheerily : ' Here I am, old fellow, as I said I should be.

Got off duty to settle you comfortably in the train, and lo and behold ! I arrive in time to find you doing the affectionate paterfamilias ;' and Kenelm Grant shook Colonel Kingsley heartily by the hand, and continued : ' Well, Gwen, how are you ? Taller than ever, I declare !' as he patted each child kindly on the head. ' No time to lose, Kingsley, if you are to catch the 11.30. Don't I envy you, old fellow ! what would I not give for your chance of putting a bullet through the old Mahdi's hide ! but the Fates have forsaken me, and I am to be the good little boy at home — just like you, Hughy, is it not ?' ' Time for you to sit down, Grant, is there not ?' Colonel Kingsley asked. ' No, 'pon my soul there is not ! Here, I will be off and see your traps are safely stowed in the cab while you say your good-byes.

Don't be long, though, as the Flying Dutch man unfortunately is like " time and tide "■ — it waits for no man ;' and he quickly left the room out of consideration for his friend, who he fancied might like to have the last two minutes alone with his children. A long, fond embrace to each child, and an earnest ' Remember, Gwen, little Hugh is in your charge,' and Colonel Kingsley was gone, bearing with him the sight of two little faces pressed against the window to get the last glimpse of the cab as it rattled over the stones of the barrack-square. FAREWELLS. 15 It was a bright day, full of sunshine, but cold in the extreme. The usually dull, monotonous-looking town seemed inspirited beneath the brilliancy and freshness of the morn ing sun, as it lighted up the dreary sombre houses and shops and gave them a more pleasing effect than they generally had.

Business consequently seemed less slack, and the market-folk were studying and vying one with another how 'to make hay while the sun shone.' Both occupants of the cab apparently were watching the shifting scenes through which they broke ; but at last Colonel Kingsley broke the silence by saying : ' Really, Grant, it is most good of you, takingall this trouble for me.' His companion, who had purposely maintained silence before, knowing the just spoken farewell to have caused deep pain, replied laughingly : ' Not much of goodness, my dear fellow, about me,' and he carelessly knocked the ashes of a cigar he was smoking out of the window ; ' for, to tell you the truth, I am myself a trifle down. Don't you think I'm in your quarters too much not to miss them being empty ? However, this won't do.

Sentiment weakens a man, especially us gallant defenders of our country ; pining and sighing we must leave to our women. So, to change the dangerous train of thought, what commissions can I do for you ?' and Kenelm Grant turned his bright kindly face to his friend. ' Kenelm, old boy,' Colonel Kingsley returned quickly, at the same time noting the happy expression and calm look of his friend's eye, 'you envied me just now ; but would you believe it, I would give worlds to be able to get out of myself and to step into another man's shoes to see if they pinch as mine do at times — into yours, for instance, Kenelm.' ' Into mine do you wish to go ? Don't wish that,' laughed Kenelm. ' Choose, while you are about it, some highly-polished Wellingtons capable of rooming corns by the dozen, should you wish to indulge in, such defacers of nature.