ISHMAEL. OR IN THE DEPTHS.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 455, 19 March 1890, Page 6

ISHMAEL. OR IN THE DEPTHS.

BY ; MRS EMMA D. E. N. SOUTH WORTH,

Author of “Self-Raised," “Fair Play.” “Th« .Missing ! ride," “A Noble Lord,” “How tlo Won Her," “ llio Prince of Darkness,” “ Tried for Her Life.” Etc,. Etc. CHAPTER XXX. ISIIMAEL AND CLAUDIA. And boll) were young—yet. not alike in youth As the sweet moon upon the horizon’s verge, The maidas on the eve of womanhood: The boy had no more summers ; but his heart Had far out-grown his years, and to his eye There was lut one beloved face on earth, And that was shining on him. Byron. The first of August, the decisive day, arrived. It was to be a fete day for the whole neighbourhood that quiet neighbourhood, where fetes, indeed, were so unusual, as to make a great sensation when they did occur, There was to be the examination in the forenoon, followed by the distribution of prizes in the afternoon, and a dance in the evening. ‘The public’ were invited to attend in the morning and afternoon, and the parents, friends-and guardians of the pupils were invited to remain for the concert and ball in the evening. All the young people were on the qui viva for this festival; and their elders were not much less excited. Everywhere they were preparing dresses as woll as lessons. Poor Hannah Worth, whose circumstances were much improved since she had been seamstress in general to Mrs Middleton’s large family, had strained every nerve to procure for Ishmael a genteel suit of clothes for this occasion. And she had succeeded. And this summer morning saw Ishmael arrayed, for rhe first time in hi 3 life, in. a neat well - fitting dress suit of light grey cassimere, made by the Baymouth tailor. Hannah was proud of her nephew, and Ishmael was pleased with himself. He was indeed a handsome youth, as he stood smiling there for the inspection of his aunt. Every vestige of illhealth had left him, but leH him with a delicacy, refinement and elegance in bis person, manners and speech, very rare in any youth, rarer still in youth of his humble grade. But all this was of the soul. ‘ You will do, Ishmael—you will do very well indeed !’ said Hannah, as she drew the boy to her bosom, and kissed him with blended feelings of affection, admiration and remorse. Yes, remorse; for Hannah remembered how often, in his feeble infancy, she had wished him dead, and bad been impatient for his death. ‘ 1 hope you will do yourself credit today, Ishmael,’ she said, as she released him from her embrace. ‘I shall try to do you credit, aunt Hannah,’ replied the smiling youth, as he set oil' gayly for the fete at the school. It was a splendid morning, but promised to bo a sultry day. When he reached Brudenell Hall, he found the young ladies and gentlemen of the school, about twenty in all, assembled on the front lawn before the house. The young gentlemen, in their holiday suits, were sauntering lazily about among the parterres and shrubberies. The young ladies, in their white muslin dresses and pink sashes, were grouped under the shade of that grove of flowering locusts that stood near the house—the same grove that had sheltered some of them on the night of the lire.

As Ishmael came up the flagged walk leading to the house, Claudia saw him, and called out: ‘Come you !’ The youth, blushing with the consciousness of his new clothes, and the criticisms they would be sure to provoke from his honoured bub exasperating little patroness, advanced to the group of white-robed girls. Claudia, with her glittering black ringlets, her rich crimson bloom, and glorious dark eyes, was brilliantly beautiful, and at fifteen looked quite a young woman, while Ishmael at sixteen seemed still a boy. , Her manner, too, was that of a young lady towards a mere lad. She took him by the hand, and looked at him from head to foot, and turned him around ; and then, with a triumphant smile, appealed to her companions, exclaiming : * Look at him now ! Isn’t he really elegant in his new clothes ? Light grey becomes him—liis complexion is so fair and clear! There isn’t another boy in the neighbourhood that wouldn’t look as yellow as a dandelion in grey ! Isn’t he handsome, now ?’ This was a very severe ordeal for Ishmael. l'he young ladies had all gathered around Claudia, and were examining her favourite. Ishmael felt his face burn until it seemed as if the very tips of his ears would take fire.

‘ Isn’t he handsome, now, Bee ?’ pursued the relentless Claudia, appealing to her cousin.

Beatrice was blushing in intense sympathy with the blushing j'outh. ‘I say, isn’t he handsome, Bee?’ persevered the implacable critic, turning him around for her cousin’s closer inspection.

‘ Yes ! he is a very handsome do<j ! I wonder you do not get a collar and chain for him for fear he should run away, or someone should steal him from you, Claudia !’ suddenly exclaimed the distressed girl, bursting into indignant tears. ‘ Consternation 1 what is the matter now ?’ iuquired the heiress, dropping her victim, from whom general attention was r.ow diverted.

What is the matter, Bee? what is the matter ?’ inquired all the young ladies, gathering around the excited girl. Beatrice could only sob forth the words : ‘ Nothing, only Claudia vexes me.’ ‘Jealous little imp!’ laughed Miss Merlin. ‘I am not jealous, I am only vexed,’ sobbed Beatrice.

4 What at? what at? was the general question. Bgt Beatrice only answered by indignant tears and sobs. This gentlest of all gentle creatures was in a passion ! It was upreeedented ! it was wonderful and alarming ! should really like to know what is the matter with you, you foolish child ! Why are you so angry with me ? It is very unkind !’ said Miss Merlin, feeling, she knew not why, a little ashamed. H;* I would not be angry with you if you would treat him properly, like a young gentleman, and not like a dog ! You treat him for all the world as you treat Fido !’ said this little lady of so few years, speaking with an effort of moral courage that distressed her more than her companions .could have guessed, as she turned and ’ walked away. Ishmael stepped after her. There ■were moments when the boy’s soul arose ■above all embarrassments incident to his *ge and condition. He stopped after her, and taking her hand, anu pressing it affectionately, said : ‘Thank you, Bee! Thank you, dear, dearest Bee ! It was bravely done !’

She turned her tearful, smiling face towards the youth, and replied :

‘ But do not blame Claudia. She means Well always ; but she is— ’ ‘ What is she ?’ inquired the youth, anxiously ; for there was no book in his collection that ho studied with so much interest as Claudia, There was no branch of knowledge that he wished 60 earnestly to be thoroughly acquainted with as with the nature of Claudia.

‘ What is she ?’ he again eagerly inquired. ‘ She is blind where you are concerned.’ ‘I think so too,’ murmured Ishmael, as he pressed the hand of his little friend and left her.

Was Ishmael’s allegiance to his ‘elect lady ’ turned aside ? Ah, no ! Claudia might misunderstand, humiliate andwound him ; but she was 3till ‘ his own star,’ the star of his destiny. He went straight back to her side. But before a word could be exchanged between them, the bell rang that summoned the young ladies to their places in the class-room. The long drawing - room, which was opened only once or twice in the year, for large evening parties, had been fitted up and decorated for this ffite. The room being in its summer suit of straw - matting, lace curtains and brown ho'land chair and sofa covering, needed but little change in its arrangements. At the upper end of the room was erected a stage ; upon that was placed a long table ; behind the table were arranged the seats of the examining committee; and before it, and below the stage, were ranged, row behind row, the benches for the classes, a separate bench being appropriated to each cla«s. The middle of the room was

filled with additional chairs, arranged in rows, for the accommodation of the audience. The walls were profusely decorated with green boughs and blooming flowers, arranged in fesbobns and wreaths. At twelve o’clock precisely, the examining committee being in their places, the class-books on the table before them, the classes ranged in order in front of them, and the greater part of the company assembled, the business of the examination commenced at once.

The examining committee was composed of the masters of a neighbouring collegiate school who were three in number—namely, Professor Adams, Doctor Martin, and Mr Watkins. The school was divided into

three classes. They began with the lowest class and ascended by regular rotation to the highest. The examination of these classes passed off fairly enough to satisfy a reasonable audience. Among the pupils there was the usual number of ‘sharps, flats and naturals ’ —otherwise of

bright, dull and mediocre individuals. After the examination of the three classes

was complete, there remained the two youths, Walter Middleton and Ishmael Worth, who, far in advance of the other

pupils, were not classed with them, and, being but two, could not be called a class of themselves. Yet

they stood up and were examined together, and acquitted themselves with alternating success and equal honour. For instance, in mathematics Walter Middleton had the advantage; in belles-lettres Ishmael excelled ; in modern languages both were equal ; and nothing now remained but the reading of the two Greek theses to establish the relative merits of these generous competitors. These compositions had been placed in the hands of the committee, without the names of their authors ; so that the most captious might not be able to complain that the decision of the examiners had been swayed by fear or favour. The theses were to be read and deliberated upon by the examiners alone, and while this deliberation was going on there was a recess, during which the pupils were dismissed to amuse themselves

on the lawn, and the audience fell into easy disorder, moving about and chatting among themselves. In an hour, a bell was rung, the pupils were called in and arranged in their classes, the audience fell into order again, and the distribution of prizes commenced. This was arranged on so liberal a scale that each and all received a.prize for something or other—if it were not for scholastic proficiency, or exemplary deportment, then it was for personal neatness or something else. The two Burghe3, who were grossly ignorant, slothful, perverse, and slovenly, got prizes for the regular attendance into which they were daily dragooned by their father. Walter Middleton received the highest prize in mathematics : Ishmael Worth took the highest in belles-lettres; both took prizes in modern languages ; so far they were head and head in the race ; and nothing remained but to award the gold watch which was to confer the highest honours of the school upon its fortunate recipient. But before awarding the watch the two theses were to be read aloud to the audience for the benefit of the few who were learned enough to understand them.. Professor Adams was the reader. He arose in bis place and opened the first paper ; it proved to be the composition of Ishmael Wort!). As he rend the eyes and ears of the two young competitors, who were sitting together, were strained upon him. ‘ Oh, I know beforehand you will get the prize ! And I wish you joy of it, my dear fellow !’ whispered VValter. ‘ Oh, no, I am sure I shall not ! You will get it ! You will see !’ replied Ishmael. Walter shook his head incredulously. But as the reading proceeded Walter looked surprised, then perplexed, and then utterly confounded. Finally he turned to his comrade and inquired : ‘lsh ! what the mischief is the old fellow doing with your composition ? He is reading it all wrong.’ ‘He is reading just what is written, I suppose,’ replied Tshmae). ‘Buthe isn’t, I tell you ! I ought to know, for I have read it myself, you remember ! and I assure you he makes one or two mistakes in every* paragraph ! The j fact is, I do not believe he knows much of j Greek, and he will just ruin us both by ' reading our compositions in that style !’ j exclaimed Walter.

‘He is leading mine aright,’ persisted Ishmael.

And before Walter could reply again, the perusal of Ishmael’s thesis was finished, the paper was laid upon the table, and Walter’s thesis was taken up. ‘ Now, then ; I wonder if he is going to murder mine in the same manner,’ said Walter. The reader commenced and went: on smoothly to the. end without having miscalled a word or syllable.. ' • ; / * That is a wonder; Ido not understand it at all!’ said young Middleton. ' Ishmael smiled ; but did not reply. ; Professor Adams rapped upon the table and called the school to order, and then, still retaining Walter’s thesis in his hand, he said:

‘ The highest prize in the gift of the examiners—the gold watch—is awarded to the author of the thesis I hold in my hand. The young gentleman will please to declare himself, walk forward and receive the reward.’ ‘ There, Walter ! what, did I tell, you ? I wish you . joy now, old fellow ! There ! “go, where glory awaits you,”’ smilingly whispered Ishmael.

‘ I .understand it all now, Ish ! I folly understand it! But I will not accept the sacrifice, old boy,’ replied Walter.

‘ Will the young gentleman who is the author of the prize thesis step up and be invested with the watch?’ rather impatiently demanded the wearied Professor Adams.

Walter Middleton arose in his place. ‘ I am the author of that thesis last read ; but lam not entitled to the prize ; there has been some mistake.’ . ‘ Walter !’ exclaimed his father in a tone of rebuke.

The examiners looked at the young speaker in surprise, and at each other in perplexity. ‘ Excuse me, father; excuse me, gentlemen ; but there has been a serious mistake, which I hope to prove to you, and which I know you would not wish me to profit by,’ persisted the youth modestly, but very firmly. ‘Don’t, now, Walter ! hush, sib down,’ whispered Ishmael, in distress.

‘ Walter, come forward and explain yourself ; you certainly owe these gentlemen both an explanation and an apology for your unseemly interruption of their proceedings and your presumptuous questioning of their judgment,’ said Mr Middleton. ‘Father, I am willing and anxious to explain, and my explanation in itself will be my very best apology ; bub, before I can go on, I wish to beg the favour of a sight of the thesis that was first read,’ said Walter, coming up bo the table of the examiners. The paper was pub in his hands. He cast his eyes over it and smiled. * Well, my young friend ; what do you mean by that ?’ ‘ Why, sir, I mean that it is just as I surmised ; that this paper which I hold in my hand is not the paper that was prepared for the examining committee; this, sir, must be the original draft of the thesis, and not the fair copy which was intended to compete for the gold watch.’ said Walter, firmly. ‘But why do you say this, sir? What grounds have you for entertaining sucli an opinion ?’ inquired Professor Adams. Young Middleton smiled confidently as he replied: ‘ I have seen and read bh9 fair copy ; there was not a mistake in it; and it was in every other respect greatly superior bo my own.’ ‘lf this is true, and of course, I know it must be so, since you say it, my son, why was nob the fair copy put in our hands? By what strange inadvertence has this rough draft found its way to us ?’ inquired Mr Middleton.

‘ Father,’ replied Walter, in a low voice —‘ by no inadvertence at all! Ishmael has done this on purpose that your son might receive the gold watch. I am sure of it; bub I cannot accept his noble sacrifice! Father, you would not have me do it !’ ‘ No, Walter ! no, my boy. Not if a kingdom instead of a gold watch were at stake ! You must nob profit by his renunciation, if there has been any renunciation. But are you sure that there has been * I will prove it to your satisfaction, sir, Yesterday, in my great anxiety to know how my chances stood for the first prize, I asked Ishmael for a sight of his thesis, and I tendered him a sight of mine. Ishmael did nob refuse me. We exchanged papers and read saeli other’s compositions. Isb* mael’s was fairly written,accurate, logical and very eloquent. Mine was very inferior in every respect except literal accuracy. Ishmael must have seen, after comparing the two, that he must gain the prize. I certainly knew that he would ; I expressed my conviction strongly to that effect; and I congratulated him in anticipation of a certain triumph. But though I wished him joy, I must have betrayed the mortification that was in my own heart; for Ishmael insisted that I should be sure to get the medal myself; And this is the Way .in which ho has secured the fulfilment of his own prediction ; by suppressing bis fair copy that must have taken the prize, and sending up that rough draft on purpose to lose it in my favour.’

‘Can this be true?’ mused Mr Middleton.

‘You can test its truth for yourself,, sir. Call up Ishmael Worth. You know that he will not speak falsely. Ask him if he has not suppressed the fair copy and exhibited the rough draft. You have authority over him, sir, Order him to produce the suppi’essed copy, than his abilities may be justly tested,’ said Walter.

Mr Middleton dropped his.head upon his chest and mused. Meanwhile the audience were curious and impatient to know what on earth could be going on around the examiners’ table. Those only who were nearest had heard the words of Walter Middleton, when he first got up to disclaim all right to the gold watch. But after he had gone forward to the table no more was heard, the conversation there being carried on in a confidential tone much too low to be heard beyond the little circle around the board, t

After musing for a few minutes, Mr Middleton lifted his head and said :

‘I will follow your advice, my son.’ Then, raising his voice, he called out : ‘ Ishmael Worth J come forward.’

Ishmael, who had half suspected what was going on around that table, now arose, aj" proached and stood respectfully waiting orders. . \ Mr Middleton took the thesis from the hands of Walter and placed it in those of Ishmael, saying : ‘ Look at that paper and tell me if it is not the first rough draft of your thesis. ’ * Yes, sir, it is,’ admitted the youth, as with embarrassment he received the paper. ‘Have you a fair copy?’ inquired Mr Middleton.

‘Yes, sir.’ ‘ Where is it ? anywhere in reach ?’ ‘lt is in the bottom of my desk in the school-room, sir.’

‘ Go and fetch it, that we may examine it and fairly test your abilities,’ commanded the master.

Ishmael left the drawing-room, and, after an absence of a few minutes, returned with a neatly-folded paper, which he banded to Mr Middleton.

That gentleman unfolded and looked at it. A very cursory examination served to prove the great superiority of this copy over the original one.’ Mr Middleton refolded it, and, looking steadily and almost sternly into Ishmael’s face, inquired : ‘ Was the rough draft sent to the'examiners, instead of this fair copy, through any inadvertence of yours? Answer me truly.’ ' . ." V, • No sir,’ replied Ishmael, looking down. 4 lt was done knowingly, then ?’ ' . ‘ Yes, sir.’ . ‘

‘ For what purpose, may 1 atk you, did you suppress the. fair copy which most assuredly must have won you the watch, and substitute this rough draft that as certainly must have lost it f Still looking down, Ishmael remained silent and embarrassed.

‘Young man, I command you to reply to me,’said the master. - ‘ Sir, I. thought I had a right to do as I pleased with my own composition,’ replied Ishmael, fitting bis head ] and looking straight into the face of the questioner, iyith-that modest confidence which sometimes gained the victory over his shyness. ‘ Unquestionably; .but that is not .’an answer to my question .as to why the substitution was made,’-

* I wish you would not press the question, ■ir.’

‘ Bub I do, Ishmael, and I enjoin you to answer it.’

‘ Then, sir, I suppressed the fair copy, and rent up the rough draft, because I thought there was one who, for his great diligence, had an equal or a better right to the watch than I had, and who would be more pained by losing it than I should, and I did not wish to enter into competition with him ; for indeed, sir, if I had won the watch from my friend, 1 should have been more ,pained by his defeat than'pleased at my own victory,’ said Ishmael, his fine face clearing up under the consciousness of probity. (But, reader, mark you this—it was the amiable trait inherited from his father —the pain in giving pain ; the pleasure in giving pleasure. Bub we know that this propensity which had proved so fatal to the father, was guided by conscience bo all good ends in the son.) While Ishmael gave this little explanation, the examiners listened, whispered, and nodded to each other with looks of approval. And Walter came to his friend’s side, and affectionately took and pressed his hand, saying :

‘ 1 know it as soon as I heard both theses read, and saw that they seemed to make mistakes only in yours. It was very generous in you, Ishmael ; but you seemed to leave out of the account the fact that I ought not to have profited by such generosity ; and also that if I had lost the prize, and you had won it, my mortification would have been alleviated by the thought that you, the best pupil in the school, and my own chosen friend, had won it. ’ •Order!’ said Mr Middleton, interrupting this whispered conversation. ‘lshmael,’ ho continued, addressing the youth, * your act was a generous one, certainly; whether it was a righteous one is doubtful. There is an old proverb which places “ justice before generosity.’’ I do nob know that it does nob go so far as even to inculcate justice to ourselves before generosity to our fellows. You should have been just to yourself before being generous to your friend. It only remains for us now to rectify tins wrong.’ Then burning to Professor Adams, he said :

* Sir, may I ti’ouble you to take this fair copy and read it aloud ?’ Professor Adams bowed his assent as he received the paper. Ishmael and Walter returned to their seats to await the proceedings. Professor Adams arose in his place, and in a few words explained how it happened that in the case of the first thesis read to them, he had given the rough draft instead of the fair copy, which, in justice to the writer, he should now proceed to read.

Now, although nob half a dozen persons in that room could have perceived any difference in the two readings of a thesis written in a language of which even the alphabet was unknown to them, yet every individual among them could keenly appreciate the magnanimity of Ishmael, who would have sacrificed his scholastic, fame for his friend’s benefit, and the quickness and integrity of Walter in discovering the generous ruse and refusing the sacrifice. They put their heads together, whispering, nodding, and smiling approval. ■ Damon and Pythias,’ ‘Orestes and Pylades,’were the names bestowed upon the two friends. But at length courtesy demanded that the audience should give some little attention to the reading of the Greek thesis, whether they understood a word of it or not. Their patience was not put to a long test. The reading was a matter of about fifteen minutes, and at its close the three examiners conversed together for a few moments. And then Professor Adams arose and announced bhe young author of the thesis which he had just read, as the successful competitor for the highest honours ot the school, and requested him to come forward and be invested with the prijse, ‘ Now it is my time to wish you joy, and to say, “Go where glory awaits you,” Ishmael!’ whispered Walter, pressing his friend’s hand and gently urging him from his seat.

Ishmael yielded to the impulse and the invitation, and went up to the table. Professor Adams leaned forward, threw the slender gold chain to which the watch was attached, around the neck of Ishmael, saying: . ‘May this well-earned prize be the earnest of future successes even more brilliant than this.’ Ishmael bowed low in acknowledgment of the gold watch and the kind words, and amid the hearty applause of the company returned to his seat. The business of the day was now finished, and as it was now growing late in the afternoon, the assembly broke up. The ‘ public,’ who had come only for the examination, returned home. The ‘ friends,’ who had been invited to the bail, repaired first to the dining-room to partake of a collation, and then to chambers which had been assigned them, to change their dresses for the evening. CHAPTER XXXI. . ISIIMAEL HEADS A SECRET FROM A N ENEMY'. Shame come to Romeo ? Blistered be thy tongue For such a wish ! lie was not born to shame ; Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit; For tis a throne where honour may be crowned. Sole monarch jf the uniY r ersal earth ! . Shakspeark. In the interval, the drawing-room was rapidly cleared out and prepared for.dancing, The staging at the upper end, Yvhich had been appropriated to the use of the examining committee, was how occupied by a band of six negro musicians, headed by the Professor of Odd Jobs. They were seated all in a row, engaged in tuning their instruments, under the’instructions of Morris. The room wore a gay, festive, and inviting aspeetpit was brightly lighted up, its white walls were festooned with wreaths of flowers ; its oak floor was polished and chalked for the dancers ; and its windows were all open to admit the pleasant summer air and the perfume of flowers, so much more refreshing in the evening than at any other time of the day. At a very early hour, the young ladies and gentlemen of the school, whose .gala dresees needed but the addition of wreaths and bouquets for the evening, began to gather in the drawing-room ; the girls look-, ' ingvery pretty in their white muslin dresses, pink sashes and coronets of red roses ; and the boys very smart in their holiday clothes, with rosebuds stuck into their button-holes. Ishmael Was made splendid by the addition of his gold watch and chain, and famous by his success of the morning. All the girls, and many of the boys,gathered around him, sympathising with his triumph aiid complimentinghimuponhisabilities. Ishmael was clearly the hero of the evening ; but he bore himself withan aspect half of pleasure, half of pain, until Walter Middleton approached him, and taking hjs arm walked him down the room, until they Yyero out of earshot from the others, when he said : ‘Now do, Ishmael, put off that distressed look, and enjoy your success as you ought! Make much of your watch, my boy ! I know if it were not for thoughts of me, you would enjoy: the possession of it vastly— \ would you not, now? ; . . . , , ; ‘ Yes,’ said Ishmael, *T would.’ A . ■’? ! j ‘ You would not be a “ human boy,” if you didn’t. I know well -enough I was near losing ir.y wits with delight in the first

watch I possessed ! although it was a trumpery little silver affair ! Well, now, Ishmael, enjoy your possession without a drawback ! I assure you, upon record, I am very glad you got the prize ! You deserved the honour more than I did, and you needed the watch move. For see here, you know t have a gold one of my own already—my mother’sgift to meon my last birthday,’ continued Walter, baking out and displaying his school watch. ‘ Now what could Ido with two? So, Ishmael, let me see you enjoy yours, or else I shall feci unhappy,’ he concluded, earnestly pressing his friend's hand.

‘Walter Middleton, what do you mean, sir; by stealing my thunder in that way? It is my property that you are carrying on! Ishmael is my protege, my liege subject ! Bring him back, sir! I want to show his watcli to my companions !’ spoke the imperious voice of Miss Merlin. ‘Come, Ishmael ! you must make a spectacle of yourself again, I suppose, to please that little tyrant,’ laughed Walter, as he burned back with his friend towards the group of young girls. Now in this company was one who looked with the envious malignity of Satan upon the well-merited honoursofthe poor peasantboy. This enemy was Alfred Burghe, and he was now savagely waiting his opportunity to inflict upon Ishmael a severe mortiiicatiou.

As Walter and Ishmael, therefore, approached the group of young ladies, Alfred, who was loitering near them, lying in wait for his victim, drew away with an expression of disgust upon his face, saying : ‘ Oh, it that fellow is to join our circle, I shall feel obliged to leave it. It is degrading enough to be forced to mix with such rubbish in the school-room without having to associate with him in the drawingroom.’

‘What do you mean by that, sir?’ de manded Miss Merlin, flashing upon him the lightning of her eyes, before Ishmael had drawn near enough to overhear the words of Alfred.

‘ I mean that fellow is not fit company for me. ’ ‘No ! Heaven knows that he is not! exclaimed Claudia, pointedly. ‘Never mind, Miss Merlin ; do not be angry with him ; the beaten have a right to cry out,’ said Ishmael, who had now come up, and stood smiling among them, totally unconscious of the humiliation that was in store for him.

‘ I am not angry ; I am never angry with such dull pups; though I find it necessary to punish them sometimes,’ replied Claudia, haughtily. ‘ I say he is no fit company for me ; and when I say that, I mean to say that he is no fit company for any young gentleman, much less for any young lady 1’ exclaimed Alfred.

Ishmael looked on with perfect good humour, thinking only that his poverty was sneered at, and feeling immeasurably above the. possibility of humiliation or displeasure upon that account. Claudia thought as he did, that only his lowly fortunes had exposed him to con tempt; so, putting her delicate white gloved hand in that of Ishmael, she said :

‘ Ishmael Worth is my partner in the first dance ; do you dare to hint that the youth I dance with is not proper company for any gentlemap, or any lady, either?’ ‘No, I don’t hint it; 1 speak it out in plain words ; he is not only not fit company for any gentleman or lady, bub he is not even fib company for any decent negro !’ ishmael, strong in conscious worth, and believing the words of Alfred to be only reckless assertion, senseless abuse, laughed aloud with sincere, boyish mirthfulness, at its absurdity, s Bub Claudia’s cheeks grow crimson, and her eyes flashed —bad signs these for the keeping of her temper towards ‘ dull pups. ’ ‘He is honest, truthful, intelligent, industrious and polite. These are qualities which, of course, unfit him for such society as youjs, Mr Burghe ; but I do not see why they should unfit him for that of ladies and gentlemen,’ said Claudia, severly. * Heis a ,’brutally exclaimed Alfred, using a coarse word, at which all the young girls started and recoiled, as if each had receivedawound, whileall the boys exclaimed, simultaneously : •‘Oh.! fie!’ or ‘Oh ! Alf, how could you say such a thing !’ ‘ For shame !’

As for Walter Middleton, he had collared the young miscreant before the word was fairly out of his mouth ! But an instant’s reflection caused the young gentleman to release the culprit with the words : , ‘My father’s house..and the presence of these young ladies protect you for the present, sir.’ lshmael stood alone, in the centre of a shocked and recoiling circle of young girls, so stunned by. the epithet that had been hurled at him that he scarcely yet understood its meaning or felt that he was wounded. ‘ What did he say, Walter?’ he inquired, appealing to his friend. Walter Middleton put his strong ann around the slender and elegant form of Ishrnael, and held him firmly ; but whether in a close embrace or light restraint, or both, it was hard to decide, as he answered : ‘He says what will be very difiicult for him to explain, when he shall be called to account to-morrow morning ! but what, it is quite needless to repeat.’ ‘I say lie is a— —-!■ His mother was never married ! and no one on earth knows who: his father was ! or if he ever had a father !’ roared Alfred, brutally. Walters arm closed convulsively upon lshmael. There was good reason ! The boy had given one spasmodic bound forward, as 'if be would have throttled his adversary on the spot; but the restraining arm of ;Walter Middleton held him back ; his face was pale as marble ; a paid sweat had burst upon his brow ;he w r as tremb: ling in every limb as he gasped 1 Walter, this cannot be true ! Ob, say it is not true!’ ; : y: ' ‘True! no! I believe it is as false—as false as that young villain’s heart !' and nothing can be falser than that !’ indignantly exclaimed young Middleton. ‘ It is true ! it is true ! The whole county knows it is true!’ vociferated Alfred. ‘ And if anybody hero doubts it, let them ask old Hannah Worth if hor nephew isn’t . a : •’ . -* * ' : ‘ Leave the room, sir !’ exclaimed Walter, interrupting;him.before lie could add an--other w"ord. u- Your language and mannei’3 j are so offensive as to render your presence entirely inadmissible here ! Leave the room, instantly !’ : . i ‘I won’t,!’ said Alfred, stoutly. = Walter was unwilling to release lshmael from the-tight, half-friendly, half-masterly embrace in which he held him ; else, perhaps, he might himself have ejected the offender. . As it was, he grimly repeated his demand.

' Will you leave the room ?’ - ‘No !’"replied Alfred,\j ‘James, do me the favour to riog the beii.’• ■^A//> ■;

James Middleton rang a peal that brought old Jovial’quickly to the r00m../. ‘ Jovial, will you go and ask your .master if he will be land epopgh to come here ; his presence is very much needed,’ said Jovial bowed and withdrew. j ‘ I shall go and complain to my father of the insults I have received !’ said Alfred, turning to leave the room for he had

evidently no wish to meet the impending interview with Mr Middleton.

‘ I anticipated that you would reconsider your resolution of remaining here !’ laughed Walter, as he let this sarcasm off after his retreating foe. He had scarcely disappeared through one door, before Mr Middleton entered at another.

‘ What is all this about, Walter?’ he inquired, approaching the group of panicstricken girls and wondering boys. . ‘ Some new rudeness of Alfred Burghe, father; but ho has just taken himself off, for which I thank him ; so there is no use in saying more upon the subject for the present,’ replied Walter. There is no use, in any case, to disturb the harmony of a festive evening, my son ; al Icomplainfcs may well be deferred until the morning, when I shall be ready to hear them,’ replied Mr Middleton, smiling, and never suspecting how serious the offence of Alfred Burghe had been. ‘And now,’ he continued, turning towards the band, ‘ strike up the music, professor. The summer evenings are short, and the young people must make the most of this one ! Walter, my son, you are to open the ball with your cousin ; take her hand.’

‘Thank you very much, uncle; thank you, Walter, but my hand is engaged for this set bo Ishmael Worth ; none but the winner of the first prize tor me ?’ said Claudia, gayly, veiling the kindness that prompted her to favour the mortified youth under a. sportive assumption of vanity.

‘ Very well, then ! where « the young hero?’ said Mr Middleton, looking around. Bub Ishmael had suddenly disappeared, and was nowhere to be found.

* Where is he, Walter ? He was standing by you,’ said Claudia. ‘I had my arm around him to prevent mischief, and 1 released him only an instant since ; bub he seems to have slipped away,' answered Walter, in surprise. ‘He has gone after Alfred ! and there will be mischief done; and no one could blame Ishmael if there was !’ exclaimed Claudia.

‘ It was young Worth, then, that Burghe assailed?’ inquired Mr Middleton. ‘Yes, uncle! and if Mr Burghe is per-

mitted to come to the house after his con

duct this evening, I really shall feel compelled to write to my father, and request him to remove me, for I cannot, indeed, indeed, I cannot expose myself to the shock of hearing such language as he has dared to use in my presence this evening !’ said Claudia, excitedly. • Compose yourself, my dear girl; he will not trouble us after this evening ? he does not return to school after the vacation ; he goes to West Point,’ said her uncle. ‘ And where I hope the discipline will be strict enough to keep him in order!’ exclaimed Claudia.

‘ Bub now some one must go after Ishmael

Ring for Jovial, Walter.’ ‘ Father, old Jovial will be too slow. Had I nob better go myself?’ asked Walter, seizing his hat. Mr Middleton assented, and the young man went out on his ciuesb.

He hunted high and low, but found no trace of Ishmael, He found, however, what set his mind at ease upon the subject of a collision between the youths ; it was the form of Alfred Burghe, stretched at length upon the thick and dewy grass. .‘Why do you lie there? You will take cold. Get up and go home,’ said Walter, pitying his discomfiture and loneliness ; for the generous.are compassionate even to the evil-doer.

Alfred did not condescend to reply. ‘ Get up, I say ; you will take cold,’ persisted Walter, ■ I don’t care if I do ! I had as lief die as nob ! 1 have no friends ! nobody cares for me,’ exclaimed the unhappy youth, in the bitterness of spirit common to those who have brought their troubles upon themselves.

* If you would only reform your manners, Alfred, you would find friends enough, from the Creator, who only requires of you that “ you cease to do evil and learn to do well,” down to the humblest of His creatures—down to that poor boy whom you so heartlessly insulted to-night; but whose generous nature would bear no lasting malice against you,’ said Walter, gravely. ‘lt is deuced hard, though, to see a fellow like that taking the shine out of us all,’ grumbled Alfred. ‘No, it isn’t! it is glorious to see a youth like that struggling up to a higher life, as he is struggling ! He won the prize from me, me, his senior in age and in tho school, and my heart burns with admiration for the boy when I think of it ! How severely he must have striven to have attained such proficiency in these three years. How hard . lie must have studied ; how much of temptation to idleness he must have resisted ; how much of youthful recreation, and even of needful rest, he must have constantly denied himself; not once or twice, but for months and years ! Think of it ! He has richly earned all the success he has had. Do not envy him his honours, at least until you have emulated his heroism,’ said Walter, with enthusiasm. ! ‘I think I will go home,’ said Alfred, to whom the praises of his rival were not the most attractive theme in the world. ‘You may return with me to the house now, if you please, since my friend lshmael has gone home. Keep out of the way of Miss Merlin, and no one else will interfere with you,’ said Walter,who when not roused to indignation, had all his father’s charity for “ miserable ” sinners. Alfred hesitated for a minute, looking towards the house, where the lighted windows and pealing music of the drawingroom proved an attraction too strong for his pride to resist. Crestfallen and sheepish, he nevertheless returned to the scene of festivity, .where the young people were now engaged in . dancing and where after a while, they all with the happy facility of youth foi-got his rudeness and drew him into their sports. All except Claudia, who would have nothing on earth to say to him, and Beatrice, who, though ignorant of his assault upon lshmael, obeyed the delicate instincts of her nature that warned her to avoid him. On observing the return of Alfred, Mr Middleton took the first opportunity of saying to his son : ‘I see that you have brought Burghe back. ’ .... ‘ Yes, father ; since lshmael is not here to be pained by his presence, I thought it better to bring him back; for I remembered your words spoken of him on a former occasion : “‘ That kindness will do more to reform such a nature as his than reprobation could.”’ ‘ Yes—very true ! But poor lshmael ! Where is he ?’ Ay ! where, indeed ? CHAPTER XXXII. AT lIIS J 1 OTHER’S GRAVE. He sees her lone headstone, ’Tis white as !a shroud : Like a pall hangs above it The low, drooping cloud. ’Tis well that the white ones 1 Who bore her to bliss. f Shut out frqm her new life : The sorrows of this. j Else sure as he stands hero, And speaks of his lore

She would leave for his darkness Her glory above.

—E. H. WIIITTIIiK. Giddy, faint, reeling from the shock he had

received, Ishmael tottered from the gay and lighted rooms and sought the darkness and the coolness of the night without. He leaned against the great elm tree on the lawn, and wiped the beaded sweat from his brow. , I lb is not true,’ he said. I know it is not true! Walter said it was false; and I would stake my soul that it is. -My dear mother is an angel in Heaven ; ‘ lam certain of that: for I have seen. her .in my dreams ever since I can remember. Bub yet—bub yet—why did they all recoil from me ? E v-en she—even Claudia Merlin shrank from me as from something unclean and contaminating, when Alfred called mo that name. If they had not thought there was some truth in the charge, would they all have recoiled from me so ? Would she have shrunk from me as if Iliad had the plague? Oh, no! Oh, no ! And then aunt Hannah ! Why does she act so very strongly when I ask about my parents? If I ask her,about my father she answers me with a blow. If I ask her about my mother, she answers that my mother was a saint on earth and is now an angel in Heaven. Oh ! I do nob need to be told that; I know it already.- I always knew it of my dear mother. But bo only know it, no longer satisfies me I must have the means of proving it. And to-night, yes, to-night, aunt Hannah, before either of us sleep, you shall tell mo all that you know of my angel mother and my unknown father.’ And having recovered his severely, shaken strength, Ishmael left the grounds of Brudencll Hall and struck, into the narrow footpath leading down the heights and through the valley to the Hubhill.

Hannah was seated alone, enjoying her solitary cup of tea, when Ishmael opened the door and entered. - . ‘ What, my lad, have you come back so early? I did "nob think the ball., would have been over before twelve or one o’clock, and it is nob ten yet ; but ! suppose, being a school ball, it broke up early. ;Did you get any premiums ? How many did you get?’ inquired Hannah, heaping question upon question without waiting for reply, as was her frequent custom. Ishmael drew a chair to the other side of the table and sank heavily into it., ‘ You are tired, poor fellow, and no wonder! I dare say," for all the good things you got at the ball, that a cup of tea will do you no harm,’ said Hannah, pouring out and handing him one. Ishmael took it wearily and sat it by his side.

‘ And now tell me about the premiums, 1 continued his aunt. ‘ I gob the first premium in belles-lettres, aunt; and it was Hallam’s “History qf Literature.” And I got the first in languages, which was Irving’s “ JJfe of Washington ’’—two very valuable works, aunt Hannah, that will be treasures to me all my life.’ 1 Why dp you sigh so heavily, my boy ? are you so tired as all that ? Bub one would think, as well as you love books, those fine ones would liven you up. Where are they? Let mo see them.’ ‘I left them at the school, aunt Hannah. I will go and fetch them tq-morrow.’ ‘ There’s that sigh again ! What is the matter with you, child? Are you growing lazy ? Who got the gold medal ?’ ‘lb wasn't a medal, aunt Hqnm>h. Mr Middleton wanted to give something useful as well as costly for the first prize ; aiid he said a medal was of no earthly use to anybody, so he made the prize a gold watch and chain.’ ‘ Bub who gob it f ‘ I did, aunt; there it is,’ said Ishmael, taking the jewel from his neck and laying it on the table. ‘Oh ! what a beautiful watcli and chain! and all pure gold ! real-yellow guinea gold ! This must be worth a huucired dollars ! Oh, Ishmael, we never had anything like this in the house before. I am so much afraid somebody might break in and steal it !’ exclaimed Hannali, her admiration and delight at the sight of the rich prize immediately modified by the cares and fears that attend the possession of riches.

lshmael did not reply ; but Hannah went on revelling in the sight of the costly bauble, until, happening to look up, she saw that lshmael, instead of drinking his tea, Sat with his head drooped upon his hand in sorrowful abstraction. 1 There you are again ’ . There is no satisfying some people ! One would think you would be as happy as a king with all your prizes. Bub there you are moping. What is the matter with you, boy ? Why don’t you drink your tea ?’ ‘ Aunt Hannah, ycu drink your own tea, and when you have done it I will have a talk with you.’ 4 Is it anything particular?’ ‘Very particular, aunt Hannah; bub I will nob enter upon the subject now,’/ said lshmael, raising his cup to his lips to prevent further questionings. : But when the tea was over and the table cleared away, lshmael took the hand’ of his aunt and drew her towards the door, say ing ; ‘Aunt Hannah, I want you to go with me to my mother's grave. It will not hurt you to do so ; the night is beautiful, clear and dry, and there is no dew.’ Wondering at the deep gravity of his words and manner, Hannah allowed him to draw her out of the house and up the hill behind it to Nora’s grave at the foot of the old oak tree. It was a fine, bright, starlight night, and the rough headstone, rudely fashioned and set up A>y the * professor/ gleamed whitely out froip th§ long shadowy grass, lshmael sank down upon the ground beside the grave, put his arms around the headstone, and for a space bowed his head over it. . .

Hannah seated herself upon a fragment of rock near him. But both remained silent for a few minutes. It was Hannah who broke the spell, ‘lshmael, my dear,' she said, ‘ why have you drawn me out here, and what have you to say to me of such a serious nature that it can be uttered only here?’ Bub lshmael still was silent—being bowed down with thought or grief.’ lshmael was out in the comparative darkness and silence of night and nature. Yet he, too, had his light and music—light and music more in harmony with his mood than any artificial substitutes could be; —he had the holy ligh t of my riads of stars shining down upon him, and the music of myriads of tiny insects sounding around him. Mark you this, dear reader —in light and music is, the Creator for over worsbipped by Nature. When the sun sets, the stars shine ; and when the birds sleep the insects sing! This subdued light and music of Nature’s evening worship suited well the saddened yet exalted mood of our poor boy. Ha knew not’what was before him—what sort of revelation be was about to invoke—but he knew that, whatever” it might be, it should nob shake his '.resolve, ‘to _dedj justly, love mercy, and walk humbly ’ with his God.

{To be Continued-)