"Yes, pa, I am coming. Please bring some more to-morrow, good man,"

added she, in a louder voice, "and if you hear of a footman who wants a place, send him here."

"Thank you, miss," said he, in the tone of a hawker, again, "I will do so. I am very much obliged, miss, for your custom, miss, and I hope it. will be continued, if I can do anything to please you, miss."

CHAPTER II.

HE "STOOPS TO CONQUER."

"Emily," said Mr. Inglis to his daughter, "what a strange servant is this new one of ours. He is one of the handsomest and boldest fellows in the world-looks as much like a gentleman as I do, and yet he is a servant. I declare I feel quite a reluctance to order him about. And when I ride out, it is awkward to have such a n.o.ble looking fellow as my servant, riding behind my carriage. He is an energetic fellow, I saw him selling confectionary before he came here. Did not you say he sold some to you?"

"Yes," said Emily, faintly.

"And yet he is not impudent, but is perfectly obedient. I cannot make him out, however. He performs everything smilingly, as though it were an excellent joke. I wonder who he can be?"

"He is an Englishman."

"Certainly, and he is well-educated. I know so. It is amusing to see how popular he is with the servants. Ha, ha, he has got them all to admire and try to imitate him. You should have heard a lecture which he delivered last night to them. I stood out in the yard, and attracted by some noise, looked in. There our new servant was, with a short pipe in his mouth, and a mug of ale beside him. The others called out for a speech. Upon which he rose from the chair and got upon the table, and spoke to them."

"What did he say?"

"O I cannot tell you half of it. He made the wittiest and most brilliant speech I ever heard. It was interspersed with laughable anecdotes and poetical quotations flowed in throngs from him. The happiest hits and the most lively sallies. O, I was totally overcome! He kept them in continual roars of laughter, and I could scarcely contain myself. But now I must attend to some business.

Emily, where is my desk?"

"In the dining room," said she, ringing the bell.

Melville came to obey the summons.

"Henry," said Mr. Inglis, somewhat awkwardly, "you may a-will it be convenient? a-to-my writing desk-hem?"

"Certainly, sir, a moment, sir--," and Melville disappeared.

In a short time he laid the desk before Mr. Inglis, and stood in a corner of the room waiting any further orders.

"Emily, I am in an awkward situation. There are some French merchants in Melbourne to whom I have to write, and I have forgotten my French. Could you write a letter in that language?"

"Not grammatically, I fear."

"I beg your pardon, sir," said Melville, coming forward. "If you are willing, sir, I will write it."

"Do you know French?" said Mr. Inglis, in surprise.

"As well as English, sir."

A chair was given him, and he wrote at his master's diction. After it was over, Mr. Inglis thanked him, and said:

"I wish there was another here who could relieve me in a similar way. I have to write a Spanish letter to a Spanish house in that rendez-vous of all nations, and I don't know a single word of the language."

"I know it perfectly, sir," said Melville, very meekly.

"You!-Spanish! Why, sir-why I mean-you are a prodigy! Can you write another letter?"

"I should be delighted to do it."

And Melville wrote another, after which he carried the two to the post-office.

"There now! What can I make of a man like that? He knows far more than I do, and acts as though he had been accustomed to the best society. How on earth came he to be a footman?"

Emily's heart beat-she knew why, but she said nothing.

Several weeks pa.s.sed away, and it was a lovely evening. The sun was fast descending behind the western hills, and a cool breeze from the ocean blew refreshingly upon the city. Many carriages rolled along the roads which led into the country. Men of all cla.s.ses promenaded the streets after the toils of the day, and nearly all labor had ceased.

Emily and her father rode along one of the avenues which lie without the city. It was a quiet place, for few people were there. Around lay green fields, orchards and groves, pastures where cattle grazed, and vast fields filled with flocks of sheep. Melville rode behind at a little distance, gazing upon Emily as though his whole soul were wrapt up in her.

"What will not a man do for love? Here am I a servant for Emily's sake. Beautiful girl. I would do a thousand times as much to gain some of those tender glances which she at times bestows upon me."

"Emily," said her father, "Is not your horse restive? He starts. I fear he will be troublesome."

"O no, father, it is only his spirit." Melville gazed anxiously at the horse, which occasionally started, rearing a little and swinging his head in a vicious manner.

"Take care! O heavens!" suddenly cried Mr. Inglis, as Emily's horse started at the sight of a blasted tree. He s.n.a.t.c.hed at the reins.

The horse, disturbed by this unexpected attack, reared up and pranced furiously.

"Father! O save me!" cried the terrified girl. Her father sprang once more at the reins-the horse darted forward, and then with a wild neigh, stretched out his head, and away he went, away, away, with the speed of the wind!

"O G.o.d! O heaven!" cried the father, in agony.

For a moment Melville paused-for an instant-and then lashing his horse he rushed on furiously in pursuit of the frightened steed of Emily. On they went, the pursuing and the pursued. People who were in the road, seeing the fierce beast, shrank away. Emily, pale as marble, still kept her seat, clinging to her horse, but every moment expecting death. She heard the voice of one pursuing, and her heart told her who it was.

Away they went, and nothing was gained on either side. Melville shuddered, and beat his horse to increase his speed-a little was gained, but not enough to admit of hope. On they went. At length the road took a long winding around a spot where the ground made a descent, and ended in a deep gully. Emily's horse followed the road and sped on in his headlong course.

Melville suddenly paused, and looked at the gully. The ground descended gently, the gully was about twelve feet wide, but its perpendicular sides descended to an unseen depth-stones and rocks were strewed around on both sides.

Melville shut his mouth tightly, and lashed his horse. With one spring he cleared the stone wall of the field, and then dashed furiously over the stony ground. It was a fearful sight. Emily saw it as she clung closely to her horse, and the yawning gulf and the fearful deed of Melville took away all thought of herself. She screamed in agony!

But on went the brave horse-on to the deep gully. He prepared-Melville lashed him. One spring-one bound-and the deep chasm was cleared, and away he went-the brave youth, up the other side. Another bound and he was over into the road, just as the horse of Emily, all foaming and perspiring, came up. He rushed before the horse, and with a giant grasp seized the bridle and stopped his furious career. The jerk threw Emily backward. She fell into Melville's outstretched arms.

The horse stood trembling. Melville dismounted, and took Emily to a seat near by. She looked at him so kindly, so tenderly, that a flood of happiness rushed through his soul.

"O thank you, my brave preserver!"