Merciful or Merciless

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MERCLFUL OR MERCILESS By the same Author. OLD ST. MARGARET'S. A Theological and Philosophical Novel. Second Edition, 8vo, 4s. " Full of excitement." — Athenæum. "The spirit of the work is excellent." — Daily News. "Henry Kingsley himself never invented his equal (the hero). There is something genuine and great about it." — Pall Mall Gazette. MERCIFUL OR MERCILESS BY STACKPOOL E O'DELL Utmfcott T FISHER UNWIN 26 PATERNOSTER SQUARE E.C. MDCCCLXXXVI And we broke away from the Christ, our human brother and friend, For He spoke, or it seemed that He spoke , of a Hell without help, without end. . . . Made us, foreknew us, foredoom'd us, and does what He will with His own ; Better our dead brute mother, who never has heard us groan I . . . . . . but were there a God as you say, His love would have power over hell till it utterly van is lid away. . , .

But the God of Love and of Hell together — they cannot be thought." Tennyson. ..." And to-day you hear, In words that sound as if from human tongues, Those monstrous, uncouth horrors of the past That blot the blue of heaven and shame the earth. . . . The same who offers to a chosen few The right to praise Him in eternal song, While a vast shrieking world of endless woe Blends its dread chorus with their rapturous hymn. Is this the God you mean, or is it He Who heeds the sparrows' fall, whose loving heart Is as the pitying father's to his child, Whose lesson to His children is ' Forgive,' Whose plea for all, 'They know not what thev do'? " Wendell Holmes. " Who will not count it true that love, Blessing, not cursing, rules above." Archbishop Trench. CONTENTS.

Chapter I. George And Florence

NE fine summer evening a boy and a girl walked slowly and silently over the sands. The girl could not have been more than fourteen ; the boy did not look much older, though he was fully seventeen — the reason being bad health. He had been an invalid from his childhood, while the girl might have stood for a picture of health. But both had a look of gravity beyond their years. The youth at first sight looked a little gawky. His tight fitting jacket and tall hat may have had some share in this result; while certainly his patent-leather boots seemed quite out of place on the sands of an obscure seaside village. He looked many degrees in social position above the girl with *yhom he walked. There was not a single indication of the town about her, either in dress or manner. But notwithstanding the extreme plainness and quaker-like simplicity of her attire, there was not a girl in the place whose clothes became her more.

Even in a crowd you would have singled her out as most becomingly dressed. It may have been her face, or her figure, or her clothes, or the three combined ; but, whatever it was, that eye would have been a dull one that would have passed her by without wishing to look at her again. Though the two were on the sands together, and though they were constantly to be seen together, they were not brother and sister, nor even cousins, nor indeed in any way related to each other. Even their stations in life were far apart : she was a farmer's daughter, while he was a baronet's son and heir. George Graystone was the first to speak. " Florence," he said, " I don't think I will go with you again to your Wednesday night meetings. Somehow I have not felt so happy since I first went there." " Oh, George !

" she said, looking up persuasively in his face, " don't say that ; I should feel so sorry if you would not come." " Well, Florence," he replied, " I do not want to make you sorry or to vex you, but why should a fellow go to a place like your chapel, where things are said that make him feel as if he were awfully bad; and though we feel ever so jolly before we go in, yet very different when we come out ? Why you look as if you wanted to have a good cry, and I know that you cried while Mr. Heron was preaching, for I saw a big tear falling on your book." " I could not help it, indeed I could not, though I tried ever so hard ; it was awful to listen to him, telling us of all the judgments that are to come upon us." " But you need not be afraid of that, need you ? " inquired George. "You know that you are a member, and Mr. Heron says that you are saved.

I know that I am not a member, and even if I wanted to be, of course my father would not let me." GEORGE AND FLORENCE. 3 " Oh, that is it ! " the girl remarked. "If you were a member, if you were one of us, if you were saved, I do not think that I should care so much, or be so much frightened ; but when Mr. Heron talks of God's fearful judgments, and of His wrath against the unsaved, as he did just now, I think of you, and then I can't help feeling sad." " Well now, Florence," he said, stopping and standing before his companion, "so it was for me you cried; and you care so much about me, I, who am often cross and cranky, and cranky with you too." " No, George," she said, " you are never cranky to me, at least I don't think you are. Yes, what Mr. Heron says makes me think of you, but I think of others also, who do not believe in the way that Mr. Heron says they should, and are not saved.

Oh, why do not all the people who can, come and hear Mr. Heron? he would be sure to put them in the right way. I do so wish that my mother could get the Rector to go — then he would know how to get saved, and would tell it to all the Church people; it would be so nice." " I like the Rector," replied George ; " he always makes me feel jolly, and he is good. All the village says so, and I do believe that if you asked him to go and hear Mr. Heron he would go, if he could get any good. I am sure he would. Yes, and he would tell his congregation to go at least every Wednesday to hear your Mr. Heron." " Oh, do you think he would, George ? If I thought so I would ask him," said Florence. " And would not mother and Mr. Heron be pleased to see him coming, and perhaps some of the Rectory ladies ! If they did, I am sure we should soon have all the villagers."

After a somewhat lengthy pause the youth remarked : " I don't know whether the Rector would go or not, but if I were the Rector, and you asked me, I would say yes, and tell the people to go too. Hullo, there is Jem ! " he continued, looking brighter and happier than he had done before. " There he is in the boat to the right. Does she not sail nicely? That was the best present poor old dad ever gave me. Now, Florence, let us go over to the Round Table, and wait till he comes in ; he will be in in about half an hour, and it is now only seven o'clock," he continued, looking at his handsome gold watch. " Very good, we will go ; but we cannot stay long there, as the Table will soon be surrounded by the tide ; it is coming in fast." They now made their way to the rock known as the " Round Table," a name given to it by George Graystone some years before, because the rock was round, and flat on the top some what like a table, and because he had read to Florence, while they sat under its shadow, "The Knights of the Round Table."

This book was a present he had received from home, and it was read on his first going out after an illness of longer dura tion than usual. Day after day he went there, partly supported by Florence ; and each day they had read the book by turns until it was finished. Ever since, the Table had been to them a favourite spot. This rock was many feet in height, and large in circumference ; the water had worn away much of its base, forming little nooks and caves, in which they found ample shelter from the summer sun or the summer showers. On arriving at the Table, Florence seated herself on a low rock that abutted from it, and which they called "the Claw," while George stretched himself on the sands at her feet. " Florence," he said, looking at her, " I wish my sisters were like you." "You should not wish that," she replied, "for they are ladies, and you know that I am not one."

"You are, Floss," he replied, with a frown on his face. "You see there, away over the sands, big Dick, away there near the lighthouse ; I will tell you what I will do, if you like. I will ask him if you are a lady, and if he says you are not I will thrash him — I will have a regular stand-up fight with him or any one else who may say that you are not a lady, now or any other time." GEORGE AND FLORENCE. 5 He looked in earnest, for it never struck him that what he said was a joke ; he did not see anything ridiculous in it. He felt a desire to show to her and to prove to her that she was a lady, just as much as his sisters were. He had risen while speaking, and looked as if he were about to go right away to Dick in order to test the matter about her being a lady. " No, George, no," she said, as she rose from her seat and took hold of his hand, as if she would keep him from going to the big fisherman.

" Do please sit down again, and we will talk until Jem comes in ; he is very near us now." " Yes," he replied, " I will sit down again ; but mind, you are a lady, whether Dick Dredge says so or not ; and, after all, I should think I ought to know better than he does, or any one else here in this place, because I have seen more, and you may take my word for it, Floss, that you are a lady." " I like you to say so," she said, " I like you to think so, George, and I am sure that you ought to know whether I am or not." " You are right," George replied; " for when we have a ball we have over a hundred ladies at it, so I ought to have some experience," drawing himself up. " And am I like those ladies that go to your parties when you are at home in the winter time ? " she inquired, with an expectant look, bending her face towards him as he lay once more stretched on the sand, with his chin resting on his hand.

He looked at her with his dark Italian-looking eyes, in which there were hidden depths, subterranean fires ; eyes that denoted genius and the poet's warm temperament — such a temperament as might easily lead to a frenzied mind. He looked at her long wavy golden hair, which streamed like sunbeams down her shoulders, and the light of the setting sun falling full upon her added beauty, not to her hair alone, but to every lineament of her face, now more than usually flushed by her walk across the sands. As her cheeks dimpled from the smiles that now illuminated her face, she was a pleasing picture to behold ; and he looked into that face as though he thought so — looked at her carnation lips and pearly teeth so even and white, and, above all, he looked into her clear honest blue eyes. He asked her to stand up, and she did so ; he then walked round her with a look of grave inspection, as if he were measuring her willowy, straight, fawn-like figure.

Then he told her to sit down, which she did with a smile, still looking expectant, as if his opinion would be of the utmost value to her. He too sat down on the sands in the same attitude as before. He looked once more gravely into her eyes, and said, with a slight shake of his head — " No, Floss ; you are not like either my sisters or the Rectory girls, or any of the county girls that I have ever seen, here or in my father's house." " Ah ! " said the girl, with a sigh, " I am sorry for that, for then I can't be a lady." George looked out to the sea, which was calm and ripple less, bathed in a golden glory by the sun that was dipping into the far-away waters, and, after looking from the sea to the sun, and from the sun to the violet-tinted clouds, he again turned his face towards her and continued : " No, you are not like one of those ladies, but I know what you are like just now, as the sun throws his fading light on your face, and it falls on your figure and the folds of your dress — you are like the ' Queen of the Fairies ' that I once saw at a great theatre in London.

Her hair was a mass of gold, just like yours now ; her eyes were blue and sparkling, just like yours ; her complexion was pearly and pink, and she was tall and straight, just as you are. She sat on a rock, just as you are doing now, and looked out to sea, and she was beckoning to some sailors in a ship in order to wreck them." " Just as I am doing now," cried Florence, with a laugh, as she jumped up from her seat and called to her brother Jem, who had come near them in his boat." " Jem, Jem ! " chorussed George, jumping up, " come in, come in, like a good fellow, and take us out ! " " No, no," said Florence, " not to-night, some other time. GEORGE AND FIORENCE. 7 Look ! they are lighting the lamp of the lighthouse over the sands, and mother has said that, wherever I should be when I saw those lights, I should think of her and go home."

" It is a pity to go home just now ; it would be jolly to have a row first," said George, looking at her persuasively. Florence shook her head. " Shall I go in the boat, or shall I go with you ? I will do whichever you like," he then said, with an inquiring look. "Do whichever you like yourself," replied the girl, "but remember the evening air is not good for you." George gave a longing look toward the boat, which now ran in on the sands at his feet, and, after another look at his com panion, said, "Jem, Jem," to a red-haired youth who, though he was the brother of the girl, bore no resemblance to he*, " I will not go to-night ; I am going to see Florence home." "Let her go by herself," said Jem; "the crabs won't eat her, will they ? Go home by yourself, Florry ; I am your big brother, and you must do as I tell you."

This big brother was two years her senior, and some inches shorter than his sister, but he was stouter, being a thickset boy. " No, Jem, I must not let her go home by herself," replied George; " it is the custom of gentlemen to see ladies home." At this Jem laughed a loud guffaw, as if something very funny had been said. When this laugh was finished, Jem stood up in his boat, while he pointed to his sister and said — " You don't call her a lady, do you ? What a joke ! " Patent-leather boots and all, George made a rush for the boat, and with one well-directed blow sent Jem staggering over its side right into the water, where he rolled over and over. " Oh, George, George ! " called out Florence in a fright, " what a shame for you to do that to my brother ! " and she was about to rush into the water, when George caught hold of her and kept her back.

Jem very soon recovered himself, after which he pulled the boat upon the sands, so as to make it secure. He then quietly took off his jacket and turned up his shirt-sleeves, while he said significantly to George : " Come on." " Very well," replied George, putting his hat on the " Claw " of the rock ; " I will fight you, or any two or a dozen like you, if you say again that Florence is not a lady. Say it again, and I will fight you." " Oh, Jem," asked Florence, beseechingly, " do say I am a lady — do, and he will be satisfied." Jem looked from one to the other in surprise, as much so as if it all had been a dream. " Is that why ? " he said, his hands relaxing, and his attitude of defiance changing to one more peaceable — "is that why you knocked me down and ducked me ? because I said she was not a lady ?"

" Yes," replied George, "and I would have done the same to Dick Dredge awhile ago if he had said it." " Dick Dredge ! " repeated Jem, in tones of astonishment. " What, big Dick ! You would have pitched into him as you did into me just now?" And he smiled. All his good-nature had come back again ; the smile became a grin, and, though he tried to keep it down, he could not, so he laughed heartily. " What are you laughing at ? " inquired George, with a flush of indignation. "At me is it?" " No, Master George, not by any means," replied Jem ; " I could not think of laughing at you ; it was at the idea I was laughing — the idea of seeing big Dick Dredge flopping about in the water, with you over him, as I was. But, look you here, sir," continued Jem, looking more serious, " if you say Florry is a lady, I say so too, for you ought to know, I suppose."

" I ought, indeed," said George, looking dignified. " And," continued Jem, " if you like it, I'll wallop anybody who says anything to the contrary, as you did me just now." "Thank you, Jem, my own good brother," said the girl, giving him a hearty hug. " All right," said George, putting on his hat ; and, going over GEORGE AND FLORENCE. 9 to Jem, he shook hands with him. "You and I, old fellow," he said, " will stick up for Florry, and thrash any fellow who says anything to her, won't we ? " "Yes, Master George, of course we will," said Jem ; "and, if the fellow is too big for me, we will both pitch into him and give it to him together. And if he is too big for you, as Dick Dredge would be — meaning no offence — I'll back you up. So you can count upon me, in case any fellow should say : She's not a lady."

"What will mother say? What will she say? You are both so wet. Oh, George, do come home and change your clothes, or you will be ill again, after all my trouble in nursing you the last time. I know you don't mind it, Jem," she con tinued, addressing her brother. " I should think not," replied Jem, with a grin

Chapter II The Petrel

RS. HARPER, I wish you did not ■ live so high up, and I do think I say that every time I come to see you, more especially lately, for I feel that my , bones are not so sound as they were. Oh ! how they do pain to be sure, and how tired I am ! " "To be sure you are, Mrs. Dredge; for the day has been a hot one, and, though it is much cooler now, the heat is still unpleasant ; but come in and have a rest, with a cup of tea," said Mrs. Harper. Mrs. Harper's house was, in the language of Mrs. Dredge, " high up." Daffydale village, in the Isle of Wight, was in the form of a horseshoe, the two points running out to the sea and forming two high cliffs. On the point opposite to Daffy dale lighthouse was the " Petrel," which was the name of Mrs. Harper's house, the name having been given to it because of its stormy and unsheltered position.

There were two ways of getting to it : one was along the ordinary road, which made it some distance from the village ; the other was by the aid of a series of stone steps, rudely cut right into the cliff, and leading in a zigzag course from the beach up to the house. The latter was a short cut, but it was hard travelling for an old lady like Mrs. Dredge. The Petrel was a miniature castle, and many of the Daffy dale folk knew it by the name of " the little castle," which distinguished it from the large castle in the neighbourhood, of which it was an exact copy. According to well-authenticated tradition, one of Mr. Harper's forefathers, many generations back, had the Petrel built by an architect, who was at that time considered to be an eminent man, in exact imitation of the castle which we have already mentioned.

The imitation was followed out most carefully, except in regard to size. It was built of solid stone, the walls were exceedingly thick, and the windows were somewhat in the form of loopholes, such as may sometimes be seen in convents. From this description one might suppose that it was a gloomy place, but it was by no means gloomy. On the contrary, it was very pleasant and cheerful, especially in the summer. It was just now covered over from the base to the roof, the tower and the terraces, with ivy of various shades, and flowers of various hues. It looked very bright and pleasing to the eye ; and so Mrs. Dredge seemed to think, for before going in, and notwithstanding her fatigue, she stood outside some time admiring the beauty of the place. " What a taste, to be sure, Miss Florence has for flowers !

" remarked Mrs. Dredge ; "for I'll be bound that she has arranged them all. They do say that the Rectory young ladies are rare good at flowers, but none of them can come up to your daughter, Mrs. Harper." "Yes, indeed," replied Mrs. Harper, " I must say that my daughter is very fond of flowers, and displays good judgment in the arrangement of them, though I think she spends too much time over gardening. I must not forget to say, however, that Master George has helped her considerably in the rearing of some of the plants." " Do you think the poor young gentleman will ever get MERCLLESS. 12 strong and hardy?" inquired Mrs. Dredge, with a look of doubt. " I often think that he has not long to live," replied Mrs. Harper ; " though sometimes he seems to be getting stronger. But you will be glad of a rest, so let us go inside ; you will find it cooler there than here."

Mrs. Harper's parlour seemed to Mrs. Dredge to be the perfection of comfort. It was certainly cool, as it had many doors, each of which was open, and through these doors came every breath of air that stirred the outside atmosphere, laden with perfume, while the creeping plants around the windows kept the rooms jealously guarded all day long from the intense heat of the sun. "Don't sit on that chair," said Mrs. Harper, "it is not so comfortable ; but sit on this armchair, it will rest you better," saying which she rolled an old-fashioned chair towards Mrs. Dredge. " Thank you, ma'am ; you know what I like best. I do so like this door, because you have so fine a view of the bay; yet I don't know but that the other door is just as nice, because you have a view of the basin, and the smell of the orchard and gardens is something to remember."

The basin referred to by Mrs. Dredge had, some centuries ago, been a quarry. All the stone required for the building of the old castle and the old church of Daffydale had been taken from it, and in later years the stone required for the building of the Petrel. After this the quarry was disused and planted with shrubs, while part of it was laid out as a garden, where there was a great variety of fruit, flowers, and vegetables. This basin was the admiration of the Daffydale people, just as much, or even more, than the "little castle;" and from it nearly all the gardens of the neighbourhood had been supplied from time to time with shoots and cuttings, plants and seeds, shrubs, and even trees. It was, in fact, looked upon as the mother of all the other gardens. It was principally from this source that Mrs. Harper obtained the funds necessary for the support of herself and two children, and the basin supplied her with not only sufficient for herself and family, but for the exercise of much hospitality which was a necessity of her nature.

"Now, Mrs. Dredge," said Mrs. Harper, "do you know that I often think that you are not so happy as you used to be. You know that you were one of the most cheerful women in Daffydale. I have noticed the change for the last couple of years, and so have others, and remarked it to me. Now if you have anything on your mind annoying you that I can set right I will. I know the last two seasons were not so good as formerly ; perhaps Dredge has not been so fortunate in bringing fish to the market ; but whatever it is I will help you, if I can." "Thank you, ma'am," said Mrs. Dredge, with her head cast down ; " you are very kind, and if I wanted a little money to help me, or was in any trouble, I would tell you, for I know that you are good at giving advice as well as a helping hand. But I do not want any help in that way.

Dredge, thank God, has been doing well ; he has caught more fish lately, and sold 'em better than ever he did. Oh no, it's not that," continued Mrs. Dredge, taking out her handkerchief and wiping her eyes, for the tears were rolling down the wrinkles of her cheeks. " But you are right, Mrs. Harper, that I am not happy. I can't be happy while Dredge won't come to chapel. He is an old man, and his calling is very dangerous, and he never seems to think about his soul ; he can't think about it, ma'am ; you can easily see that, for he is that cheerful and happy, whistling or singing, laughing and joking all the day, as if there was not a judgment to come. And it is not him alone, but there's my poor good boy a-walking in his father's footsteps, as kind and obliging a lad as ever you came across, who never said a bad word in my hearing.

But he is as thoughtless as his father, and never thinks of his soul, or where it would go to if he died sudden ! " Mrs. Harper listened to the good old woman as she thus un burdened her mind, and spoke of her anxiety for her husband MERCILESS. 14 and son. She listened in a sympathizing manner, which drew Mrs. Dredge on to say more than she had ever said to any person on the same subject. "How long have you been distressed about this matter?" inquired Mrs. Harper. " I think I've been uneasy ever since I left the church and become a member of your chapel, Mrs. Harper." " It is not my chapel, Mrs. Dredge, any more than yours." " Well, ma'am, it's best known as your chapel. If it had not been for you it would never have been built, and Mr. Heron would not have had a footing here in Daffydale."

" I do not know that," remarked Mrs. Harper, with a slight flush ; " there might have been other instruments used besides me. But with regard to your husband and son, it is no doubt very sad that they are both so thoughtless concerning their soul's welfare, seeing that in other respects they are so good. Don't they go to the church ? I know that in my time they did so, and were very attentive in church matters." "Oh, yes, they go there every Sunday regular; but it don't seem to do them any good — they still go on laughing, talking, and whistling. And when I speak to them seriously, they tell me that I'm troubling myself too much, and that they are all right and doing the best they can, and that God isn't so bad as some folks think, and they beant afeard to die when their turn comes, and such like.