"I hear ver well, but I mind noting at all," said Gregoire, with a grin.

"Oh, that 's it," said Dalton, smiling, but with a twinkle in his gray eyes that, had the other known him better, he would scarcely have fancied, "that's it, then!" And taking the umbrella from beneath Andy's arm, he walked deliberately across the yard to where a large tank stood, and which, fed from a small jet d'eau, served as a watering-place for the post-horses. Some taper rods of ice now stood up in the midst, and a tolerably thick coating covered the surface of the basin.

Gregoire could not help watching the proceedings of the stranger, as with the iron-shod umbrella he smashed the ice in one or two places, piercing the ma.s.s till the water spouted up through the apertures.

"Have you any friend who live dere?" said the courier, sneeringly, as the sound of the blows resembled the noise of a door-knocker.

"Not exactly, my man," said Dalton, calmly; "but something like it."

"What is 't you do, den?" asked Gregoire, curiously.

"I'll tell you," said Dalton. "I'm breaking the ice for a new acquaintance;" and, as he spoke, he seized the courier by the stout leather belt which he wore around his waist, and, notwithstanding his struggles and his weight, he jerked him off the ground, and, with a swing, would have hurled him head foremost into the tank, when, the leather giving way, he fell heavily to the ground, almost senseless from shock and fright together. "You may thank that strap for your escape,"

said Dalton, contemptuously, as he threw towards him the fragments of broken leather.

"I will have de law, and de polizei, and de Gericht. I will have you in de Kerker, in chains, for dis!" screamed Gregoire, half choked with pa.s.sion.

"May I never see peace, but if you don't hold your prate I 'll put you in it! Sit up there, and mind your business; and, above all, be civil, and do what you 're bid."

"I will fort; I will away. Noting make me remain in de service," said Gregoire, brushing off the dirt from his sleeve, and shaking his cap.

"I am respectable courier travel wid de Fursten vom Koniglichen Hatisen mit Russen, Franzosen, Ostereichen; never mit barbaren, never mit de wilde animalen."

"Don't, now don't, I tell you," said Dalton, with another of those treacherous smiles whose expression the courier began to comprehend. "No balderdash! no nonsense! but go to your work, like a decent servant."

"I am no Diener; no serve anybody," cried the courier, indignantly.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 222]

But somehow there was that in old Dalton's face that gave no encouragement to an open resistance, and Monsieur Gregoire knew well the case where compliance was the wisest policy. He also knew that in his vocation there lay a hundred petty vengeances more than sufficient to pay off any indignity that could be inflicted upon him. "I will wait my times," was the reflection with which he soothed down his rage, and affected to forget the insult he had just suffered under.

Dalton, whose mind was cast in a very different mould, and who could forgive either himself or his neighbor without any great exertion of temper, turned now coolly away, and sauntered out into the street. The flush of momentary anger that colored his cheek had fled, and a cast of pale and melancholy meaning sat upon his features, for his eye rested on the little wooden bridge which crossed the stream, and where now two m.u.f.fled figures were standing, that he recognized as his daughters.

They were leaning on the bal.u.s.trade, and gazing at the mountain that, covered with its dense pine-wood, rose abruptly from the river-side.

It had been the scene of many a happy ramble in the autumn, of many a delightful excursion, when, with Frank, they used to seek for fragments of wood that suited Nelly's sculptures. How often had they carried their little basket up yonder steep path, to eat their humble supper upon the rock, from which the setting sun could be seen! There was not a cliff nor crag, not a mossy slope, not a gra.s.s bank, they did not know; and now, as they looked, all the past moments of pleasure were crowding upon their memory, tinged with the sad foreboding that they were never again to be renewed.

"That's the Riesen Fels, Nelly, yonder," said Kate, as she pointed to a tall dark rock, on whose slopes the drifting snow had settled. "How sad and dreary it is, compared with what it seemed on Frank's birthday, when the nightingale was singing overhead, and the trickling stream came sparkling along the gra.s.s when we sat together. I can bear to part with it better thus than if all were as beautiful as then."

Nelly sighed, and grasped her sister's hand closer, but made no answer.

"Do you remember poor Hanserl's song, and his little speech all about our meeting there again in the next year, Nelly?"

"I do," said Nelly, in a low and whispering voice.

"And then Frank stood up, with his little gilt goblet, and said,

'With hearts as free from grief or care, Here 's to our happy--'"

"Wiederkehr," cried Hanserl, supplying the word so aptly. How we all laughed, Nelly, at his catching the rhyme!"

"I remember!" sighed Nelly, still lower.

"What are you thinking of, Nelly dearest?" said Kate, as she stood for a few seconds gazing at the sorrow-struck features of the other.

"I was thinking, dearest," said Nelly, "that when we were met together there on that night, none of us foresaw what since has happened. Not the faintest suspicion of a separation crossed our minds. Our destinies, whatever else might betide, seemed at least bound up together. Our very poverty was like the guarantee of our unity, and yet see what has come to pa.s.s Frank gone; you, Kate, going to leave us now. How shall we speculate on the future, then, when the past has so betrayed us? How pilot our course in the storm, when, even in the calm, still sea, we have wandered from the track?"

"Nelly! Nelly! every moment I feel more faint-hearted at the thought of separation. It is as though, in the indulgence of a mere caprice, I were about to incur some great hazard. Is it thus it appears to you?"

"With what expectations do you look forward to this great world you are going to visit, Kate? Is it mere curiosity to see with your own eyes the brilliant scenes of which you have only read? Is it with the hope of finding that elegance and goodness are sisters, that refinement of manners is the constant companion of n.o.ble sentiments and right actions; or, does there lurk in your heart the longing for a sphere wherein you yourself might contest for the prize of admiration? Oh, if this have a share in your wishes, my own dear sister, beware of it. The more worthy you are of such homage, the greater is your peril! It is not that I am removed from all temptations of this kind; it is not because I have no attractions of beauty, that I speak thus even poor, lame Nelly cannot tear from her woman's heart the love of admiration. But for me, I fear, for you, Kate, to whom these temptations will be heightened by your own deservings. You are beautiful, and you blush as I speak the word; but what if the time come when you will hear it unmoved? The modest sense of shame gone, what will replace it? Pride yes, my dear sister, Pride and Ambition! You will long for a station more in accordance with your pretensions, more suited to your tastes."

"How you wrong me, Nelly!" burst Kate in. "The brightest dream of all this brilliant future is the hope that I may come back to you more worthy of your love; that, imbibing some of those traits whose fascinations we have already felt, I may bring beneath our humble roof some memories, at least, to beguile your toil."

"Oh, if that time should come!"

"And it will come, dearest Nelly," said Kate, as she threw her arms around her, and kissed her affectionately. "But, see! there is papa yonder; he is beckoning to us to join him;" and the two girls hastened forward to where Dalton was standing, at the corner of the street.

"I'm thinking we ought to go up there, now," said Dalton, with a motion of his hand in the direction of the hotel. "Take my arm, each of you."

They obeyed, and walked along in silence, till they reached the inn, where Dalton entered, with a certain a.s.sumed ease and confidence, that very commonly, with him, covered a weak purpose and a doubting spirit.

"Is Sir Stafford at home, or Lady Onslow?" asked he of Mr. Twig, who, with a cigar in his mouth, and a "Galignani" in his hand, never rose from the seat he occupied.

"Can't say, sir," was the cool response, which he delivered without lifting his eyes from the newspaper.

"Do you know, ma'am?" said he, addressing Mademoiselle Celestine, who happened to pa.s.s at the moment "do you know, ma'am, if Lady Onslow 's at home?"

"She never receive in de morning," was the curt reply. And, with a very impudent stare at the two sisters, whose dress imposed no restraint upon her insolence, mademoiselle flounced past. "Come along, girls," said Dalton, angrily, and offended that he should appear to his children as if wanting in worldly tact and knowledge "come with me;" and he proceeded boldly up stairs.

A folding-door lay open before them into a large chamber, littered with boxes, trunks, and travelling gear of all kinds. Making his way through these, while he left his daughters outside, Dalton approached a door that led into an inner room, and knocked sharply at it with his knuckles.

"You may take it away now; I 've used cold water!" cried a voice from within, that at once proclaimed Dr. Grounsell.

Dalton repeated his summons more confidently.

"Go to the devil, I say," cried the doctor; "you've made me cut my chin;" and the enraged Grouusell, with his face covered with lather, and streaming with blood, flung open the door in a pa.s.sion. "Oh, Dalton, this you, and the ladies here!" said he, springing back ashamed, as Kate's hearty burst of laughter greeted him. "Come in, Dalton, come in,"

said he, dragging the father forward and shutting the door upon him. "I was longing to see you, man; I was just thinking how I could have five minutes' talk with you. What answer have you given to the letter they 've sent you?"

"What d' ye think?" said Dalton, jocularly, as he seated himself in a comfortable chair.

"What do I think?" repeated he, twice or thrice over. "Egad, I don't know what to think! I only know what to hope, and wish it may have been!"

"And what's that?" said Dalton, with a look of almost sternness, for he was not ignorant of the doctor's sentiments on the subject.

"A refusal, of course," said Grounsell, who never yet was deterred by a look, a sign, or an innuendo, from any expression of his sentiments.

"And why so, sir?" rejoined Dalton, warmly.

"On every ground in the world: What has your fine, generous-hearted, dear child in common with that vile world of envy, malice, and all wickedness you 'd throw her amongst? What similarity in thought, feeling, or instinct between her and that artificial cla.s.s with whom you would a.s.sociate her, with their false honor, false principle, and false delicacy nothing real and substantial about them but their wickedness?

If you were a silly woman, like the mother in the 'Vicar of Wakefield,'

I could forgive you; but a man a hardened, worldly man, that has tasted poverty, and knows the rubs of life. I 've no patience with you, d--n me if I have!"