LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VIII, Issue 859, 26 March 1877, Page 3

LITERATURE.

FAITHFUL TO THE LAST; OR THE FALSE FINGER-POST,

An Acute Sensation Story.

( Continued,)

‘ Lots of things to do, you know, no end of jolly time of year,’ ejaculated he of the smooth face ; for the rest of these brave troopers were mostly hirsute, save and except upon the chin, which, by the regulation of the powers, must e’en be shorn for two fingers’ breadth. He Schoozen looked to bear his fate with more complacency than most. He spoke but little ; a feeling of grave determination had possessed him, and buttoning close his habit, called a ‘frock,’ he swore again; threw away his quill or pick tooth, that when not smoking usually was held between the lips in idleness, apd with an easy ‘ Eyebye, boys,’ spurred on his steed and caracoled away. We too must follow him, for there is that in his mien which doth bespeak the carrying out of some most serious purpose. Reaching the eastern end of the ride, he turned his face towards and passed beneath the noble arch, which for its graceful superstructure bears the eliigy of the ‘Duke of Iron,’ and wound his way down the hill of Constitution until he reached a dwelling hard by the palace of the Queen, where, flinging his bridle to his attendant squire, he vaulted from his saddle, and with a firm step strode to the mansion gates, demanding straightway with a heavy knock admission to the inner portal.

Soft was the light that strayed through the lattice, and tinged with roseate hue the lovely form and features of the Lady Ema Clair. Reclining gracefully on a couch of sumptuous ease, her boudoir formed a casket color-gemmed, and so devised as to set forth the beauty of the priceless pearl, its owner, with the utmost splendour from the skilful contrasts blended roixnd about. As we first gaze upon her, robed in morning wrapper of pale cerulean tone, enticingly yet most modestly girded in studied negligence, we can but feel that Nature here hath done as grand a piece of handiwork as e’er was set upon this mundane earth. Snow-white glittering teeth, dark eyes and brows, complexion of a lily hue—perchance of painted lily hue—fair hair—for gold is ever fair, and ’twas as gilded gold these silken locks so coyly yet becomingly up-snooned. It seemed as though the fickle goddess Fortune had e’en shown forethought for this her favorite, and so ordained the coming of the fashion which did prescribe the name of beauty from all such female tresses as did not by nature or by art partake of auburn shade. Yet agitation not unmixed with some anxiety might plainly be descried as feelings dominating in the lady’s mind. ‘ Remember, love, De Schoozen comes this day for the last time, and, ma belle enfant, should he leave this room without a declaration of his love, thy hopes are fled for ever. Bring him to the point, girl, nor let him ’scape, as thou lovest me. Much toil have I expended on thy rearing to these wiles. A vast experience hath fitted me to teach thee well how husbands may be trapped. Eight of thy sisters, girl, have all gone off, and, as I willed it, in due rotation. I say as I willed it—mark that; for they were, compared to thee, but ill-favoured chits, yet one by one I got them off sans dowry. Yes, placed them all either to wealth or rank ; and new thy turn has come, and though, alas, no wealth at present call he his, yet the noble name and lineal inheritance of the De Schoozens will amply compensate for this.’

So spoke the mother of the maid, as, towering high in rustling moire, fair linen, and fine lace, she swept with haughty mien into an adjacent chamber. Scarce had the door closed on her portly form when Theodore, in all his knightly splendour, found himself standing with bended head and outstretched hand before the lady of his love. Bootless ’twould be, and ’twere not hopeless, to describe the manner of this and most such interviews. Albeit the town had spoken of the pair as fitly suited, the lady yet held back, and showed some doubt and hesitation anent the gallant knight. For ballroom converse, or for companionship at festive board, these twain would oft elect to dance or sit together, the whilome time to llirt or ‘spoon,’ as ribalds used to phrase it. Now, howsoe’er this was, the lady never would incline her ear to listen to the suit oft urged for a more serious and lasting fellowship. For, truth to tell, this doughty warrior had a winsome way withal, and one that told with women. Many-tongued rumour had ta’en his name in vain, and coupled it with doubtful meaning with more than one fair daughter of the bean inonde. Husbands were to look askance at him, and hint their spouses that ’twas getting late, whene’er his manly form was seen to tower in a thronged assembly. Moreover had his name been linked especially with a foreign beauty of the day, one Runnymeda Golferon. She wore the coronet of couutess. A Spaniard it was said had helped her to this title ; but he, poor man, had stayed at home to tend his vast domains, and scandal did not halt in the march it stole the while upon the reputation of his dame. Thus, after vows and urging of his suit, we may not be surprised to find the lady thus twitting Theodore de Shoozen whilst holding him at bay : ‘Gramercy, good sir, no more of this; frankly I. own thou art not indifferent to me, yet can I scarce trust aught thou sayst; thy errant habits, though knightly and most allowable in bachelorhood, are prone to vex when wedlock chains thee. Therefore T would, ere promising to be thy bride, haye some proof not only of thy tru,e but most unselfish and undivided love. In these wars thou dost offer to 'court death for me, which were saying too ranch and thou hadst my happiness in view. .Renown I care less for than, good fidelity, and mere renown would scarcely make thee better favored than thou art. Protesting that thy soul and body are mine alone is well enough ; but of thy body, forsooth, how much of it wouldst sacrifice for me ? Nay, by my troth I verily believe not e’en thy little finger ! ’ Again he did conjure her to believe him; but feeling sure she tightly held his heart, she scrupled not, with all the winning cunning of her sex, to hold yet a little while upon the side of doubt. Moreover no mind had she to travel to the East, whither, as we have seen, within a week the Fates would lead her warrior. Much would she prefer a year or two of extra liberty, for she held the gaiety of London more attractive far than any to be found in Madras, Calcutta, or Bombay. She knew he loved her, and so she. knew that she could trust him, and coquetry became her well.

‘No,’ once more she d,id sesame; ‘go thou where duty and tl\y country call thee ; take, if thou wilt, the promise of my love, upon condition that within a year thou shalt cause to be conveyed to me some unmistakable proof, some proof in which there cannot be a single peg or loop to hang a doubt upon, that I have all thy heart. Send me some sign or symbol of thy truth—the manner ofit 1 leave to thee ; return and claim my hand.’

More vows, entreaties, and protests; the lady remained obdurate still; ar\d Theodore dc Schoozen was fain to. take his leave at last, swearing the while, by all the doughty words he co.uld command, that certainly within the year she should receive some token as her over-cautious nature did demand. And so he went, and she was left alone. Her mother chided her that she had been e’er hard ; and when the weary days and nights that followed did cast a blank upon her life, she ’gan'ito guess she had so been, and oft rebuked herself for such co'd cruelty in seeming still to doubt De Schoozen’s lovn, esteeming well the while that in reality he had but spoken truth. She fain releutingly would call him back ; but no, her pride in this was far too strong, and, for the nonce was stronger than her love. So time wore on, and she maintained her part. She saw him not again. At length the journal of the day recorded how at ‘ yester noon the gallant Tiger’s own Dragoons had e’en set sail for vasty Hindustan.

Well as the damsel knew such tidings soon must come, she yet received some sort

of pang in reading of the words. A giddy heart sick feeling overcame her, and in a listless apathetic state she sat, her bright eyes staring into space, the paper fallen by her side from her relaxed grasp. Little fit, poor child, was she in such a mood to stand against the immediate horror that was to fallow. Scarce had she realised the fact that Theodore indeed was gone, when her waiting-woman, softly tapping at the door of the boudoir and receiving no reply, entered gently upon her own accord, bearing in her hand a small but neatly-folded postal packet, having the superscription, ‘For the Lady Ema Clair. ’ Gliding with noiseless footsteps to her lady’s side, she held it forth, and by a gentle pressure on the arm drew the forlorn one’s gaze to what she held. Ema mechanically took it in her hand, and for a moment noted not the writing on the surface; then, on a sudden, a slight murmur of delight escaped her lips. Her whole frame and face were agitated by the liveliest of emotions. {To he continued.)