"I'm afraid not; my pa.s.sport calls me Kenny James Dodd."

"But Lord Harvey is a kind of relative of mine; his mother was a Gore; I 'm sure you could be him."

I shook my head despondently; but somehow, whenever a sudden fancy strikes her, the impulse to yield to it seems perfectly irresistible.

"It's an excellent idea," continued she, "and all you have to do is to write the name boldly in the Travellers' Book, and say your pa.s.sport is coming with one of your people."

"But he might be here?"

"Oh, he's not here; he could n't be here! I should have heard of it if he were here."

"There may be several who may know him personally here."

"There need be no difficulty about that," replied she; "you have only to feign illness, and keep your room. I 'll take every precaution to sustain the deception. You shall have everything in the way of comfort, but no visitors,--not one.".

I was thunderstruck, Tom! the notion of coming away from home, leaving my family, and braving Mrs. D., all that I might go to bed at Ems, and partake of low diet under a fict.i.tious t.i.tle, actually overwhelmed me.

I thought to myself, "This is a hazardous exploit of mine; it may be a costly one too: at the rate we are travelling, money flies like chaff, but at least I shall have something for it. I shall see fashionable life under the most favorable auspices. I shall dine in public with my beautiful travelling-companion. I shall accompany her to the Cursaal, to the Promenade, to the play-tables. I shall eat ice with her under the 'Lindens,' in the 'Alle.' I shall be envied and hated by all the puppy population of the Baths, and feel myself glorious, conquering, and triumphant." These, and similar, had been my sustaining reflections, under all the adverse pressure of home thoughts. These had been my compensation for the terrors that a.s.suredly loomed in the distance.

But now, instead of the realization, I was to seek my consolation in a darkened room, with old newspapers and water gruel!

Anger and indignation rendered me almost speechless. "Was it for this?"

I exclaimed twice or thrice, without being able to finish my sentence; and she gently drew her hand within my arm, and, in the tenderest of accents, stopped me, and said, "No; not for this!"

Ah, Tom! you know what we used to hear in the "Beggar's Opera," long ago. "'Tis women that seduces all mankind." I suppose it's true. I suppose that if nature has made us physically strong, she has made us morally weak.

I wanted to be resolute; injured and indignant, I did my best to feel outraged, but it wouldn't do. The touch of three taper fingers of an ungloved hand, the silvery sounds of a soft voice, and the tenderly reproachful glance of a pair of dark blue eyes routed all my resolves, and I was half ashamed of myself for needing even such gentle reproof.

From that moment I was her slave; she might have sent me to a plantation, or sold me in a market-place, resistance, on my part, was out of the question; and is n't this a pretty confession for the father of a family, and the husband of Mrs. D.? Not but, if I had time, I could explain the problem, in a non-natural sense, as the fashionable phrase has it, or even go farther, and justify my divided allegiance, like one of our own bishops, showing the difference between submission to const.i.tuted authority, and fidelity to matters of faith,--Mrs. D.

standing to represent Queen Victoria, and Mrs. Gore Hampton Pope Pius the Ninth!

These thoughts didn't occur to me at once, Tom; they were the fruit of many a long hour of self-examination and reflection as I lay alone in my silent chamber, thinking over all the singular things that have occurred to me in life, the strange situations I have occupied, and of this, I own, the very strangest of all.

It must be a dreadful thing to be really sick in one of these places.

There seems to be no such thing as night, at least as a season of repose. The same clatter of plates, knives, and gla.s.ses goes on; the same ringing of bells, and scuffling sounds of running feet; waltzes and polkas; wagons and mule-carts; donkeys and hurdy-gurdies; whistling waiters and small puppies, with a weak falsetto, infest the air, and make up a din that would addle the spirit of Pandemonium.

Hour after hour had I to lie listening to these, taking out my wrath in curses upon Strauss and late suppers, and anathematizing the whole family of opera writers, who have unquestionably originated the bleating performances of every late bed-goer. Not a wretch toiled upstairs, at four in the morning, without yelling out "Casta Diva," or "Gib, mir wein." The half-tipsy ones were usually sentimental, and hiccuped the "Tu che al cielo," out of the "Lucia."

To these succeeded the late sitters at the play-tables,--a race who, to their honor be it recorded, never sing. Gambling is a grave pa.s.sion, and, whether a man win or lose, it takes all fun out of him. A deep-muttered malediction upon bad luck, a false oath to play no more, a hearty curse against Fortune were the only soliloquies of these the last votaries of Pleasure that now sought their beds as day was breaking.

Have you ever stopped your ears, Tom, and looked at a room full of people dancing? The effect is very curious. What was so graceful but a moment back is now only grotesque. The plastic elegance of gesture becomes downright absurdity. She who tripped with such fairy-like lightness, or that other who floated with swan-like dignity, now seems to move without purpose, and, stranger still, without grace. It was the measure which gave the soul to the performance,--it was that mystic accord, like what binds mind to matter, that gave the wondrous charm to the whole; divested of this it was like motion without vitality,--abrupt, mechanical, convulsive. Exactly the same kind of effect is produced by witnessing fashionable amus.e.m.e.nts, with a spirit untuned to pleasure. You know nothing of their motives, nor incentives to enjoyment; you are not admitted to any partic.i.p.ation in their plan or their object, and to your eyes it is all "dancing without music."

I need not dwell on a tiresome theme, for such would be any description of my life at Ems. Of my lovely companion I saw but little. About midday her maid would bring me a few lines, written in pencil, with kind inquiries after me. Later on I could detect the silvery music of her voice, as she issued forth to her afternoon drive. Later again I could hear her, as she pa.s.sed along the corridor to her room; and then, as night wore on, she would sometimes come to my door to say a few words,--very kind ones, and in her own softest manner, but of which I could recall nothing, so occupied was I with observing her in all the splendor of evening dress.

When a bright object of this kind pa.s.ses from your presence, there still lingers for a second or so a species of twilight, after which comes the black and starless night of deep despondency. Out of these dreamy delusive fits of low spirits I used to start with the sudden question, "What are you doing here, Kenny Dodd? Is it the father of a family ought to be living in this fashion? What tomfoolery is this? Is this kind of life instructive, intellectual, or even amusing? Is it respectable? I am not certain it is any one of the four. How long is it to continue, or where is it to end? Am I to go down to the grave under a false name, and are the Dodd family to put on mourning for Lord Harvey Bruce?"

One night that these thoughts had carried me to a high pitch of excitement, I was walking hurriedly to and fro in my room inveighing against the absurd folly which originally had embarked me on this journey. Anger had so far mastered my reason that I began to doubt everything and everybody. I grew sceptical that there were such people in the world as Mr. Gore Hampton or Lord Harvey Bruce, and in my heart I utterly rejected the existence of the "Princess." Up to this moment I had contented myself with hating her, as the first cause of all my calamities, but now I denied her a reality and a being. I did n't at first perceive what would come of my thus disturbing a great foundation-stone, and how inevitably the whole edifice would come tumbling down about my ears in consequence.

This terrible truth, however, now stared me in the face, and I sat down to consider it with a trembling spirit.

"May I come in?" whispered a low but well-known voice,--"may I come in?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: 314]

My first thoughts were to affect sleep and not answer, but I saw that there was an eagerness in the manner that would not brook denial, and answered, "Who 's there?"

"It is I, my dear friend," said Mrs. Gore Hampton, entering, and closing the door behind her. She came forward to where I was sitting despondingly on the side of the bed, and took a chair in front of me.

"What's the matter; you are surely not ill in reality?" asked she, tenderly.

"I believe I am," replied I. "They say in Ireland 'mocking is catching,'

and, faith, I half suspect I 'm going to pay the price of my own deceitfulness."

"Oh, no, no! you only say that to alarm me. You will be perfectly well when you leave this; the confinement disagrees with you."

"I think it does," said I; "but when are we to go?"

"Immediately; to-night, if possible. I have just received a few lines from the dear Princess--"

"Oh, the Princess!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed I, with a faint groan.

"Why, what do you mean?" asked she, eagerly.

"Oh, nothing; go on."

"But, first tell me, what made you sigh so when I spoke of the Princess?"

"G.o.d knows," said I; "I believe my head was wandering."

"Poor, dear head!" said she, patting me as if I was a small King Charles's spaniel, "it will be better in the fresh air. The Princess writes to say that we must meet her at Eisenach, since she finds herself too ill to come on here. She urges us to lose no time about it, because the Empress Sophia will be on a visit with her in a few days, which of course would interfere with our seeing her frequently. The letter should have been here yesterday, but she gave it to the Archduke Nicholas, and he only remembered it when he was walking with me this evening."

These high and mighty names only made me sigh heartily, and she seemed at once to read all that was pa.s.sing within me.

"I see what it is," said she, with deep emotion; "you are growing weary of me. You are beginning to regret the n.o.ble chivalry, the generous devotion you had shown me. You are asking yourself, 'What am I to her?

Why should she cling to me?' Cruel question--of a still more cruel answer! But go, sir, return to your family, and leave me if you will to those heartless courtiers who mete out their sympathies by a sovereign's smiles, and only bestow their pity when royalty commands it; and yet, before we part forever, let me here, on my bended knees, thank and bless--" I can't do it, Tom; I can't write it. I find I am blubbering away just as badly as when the scene occurred. Blue eyes half swimming in tears, silky-brown ringlets, and a voice broken by sobs, are shamefully unfair odds against an Irish gentleman on the shady side of fifty-two or three.

It 's all very well for you--sitting quietly at your turf fire--with an old sleepy spaniel snoring on the hearth-rug, and nothing younger in the house than Mrs. Shea, your late wife's aunt--to talk about "My time of life"--"Grownup daughters"--and so on. "He scoffs at wounds who never felt a scar." The fact is, I 'm not a bit more susceptible than other people; I even think I am less yielding--less open to soft influences than many of my acquaintances. I can answer for it, I never found that the strongest persuasions of a tax-gatherer disposed me to look favorably on "county cess, or a rate-in-aid." Even the priest acknowledges me a tough subject on the score of Easter dues and offerings. If I know anything about my own nature, it is that I have rather a casuistic, hair-splitting kind of way with me,--the very reverse of your soft, submissive, easily seduced fellows. I was always known as the obstinate juryman at our a.s.sizes, that preferred starvation and a cart to a glib verdict like the others. I am not sure that anybody ever found it an easy task to convince me about anything, except, perhaps, Mrs. D., and then, Tom, it was not precisely "conviction,"--_that_ was something else.

I think I have now made out a sufficient defence of myself, and I'll not make the lawyer's blunder of proving too much. Give me the same lat.i.tude that is always conceded to great men when their actions will not square with their previous sentiments. Think of the Duke and Sir Robert, and be merciful to Kenny Dodd.

We left Ems, like a thief, in the night; the robbery, however, was performed by the landlord, whose bill for five days amounted to upwards of twenty-seven pounds sterling. Whether Grgoire and Mademoiselle Virginie drank all the champagne set down in it I cannot say; but if so, they could never have been sober since their arrival. There are some other curious items, too, such as maraschino and eau de Dantzic, and a large a.s.sessment for "real Havannahs"! Who sipped and smoked the above is more than I know.

With regard to out-of-door amus.e.m.e.nts, Mrs. G. must have ridden, at the least, four donkeys daily, not to speak of carriages, and a sort of sedan-chair for the evening.

I a.s.sure you I left the place with a heart even lighter than my purse.

I was failing into a very alarming kind of melancholy, and couldn't much longer have answered for my actions.

If we loitered inactively at Ems, we certainly suffered no gra.s.s to grow under our feet now. Four horses on the level, six when the road was heavy or newly gravelled; bulls at all the hills.

It's the truth I 'm telling you, Tom, for a light London britschka, the usual team on a rising ground was six horses and three oxen, with about two men per quadruped,--boys and beggars _ad libitum_, I laughed heartily at it, till it came to paying for them, after which it became one of the worst jokes you can imagine. Onward we went, however, in one fashion or another, walking to "blow the cattle" when the road was level and smooth, and keeping a very pretty hunting-pace when the ruts were deep, and the rocks rugged.