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with Wyckhamme. Physical courage he had plenty His pale lip curled into a smile of triumph, then of, but of moral bravery he had none. The king looked his face became livid and changed its expression—the fixedly at him—his limbs trembled—he caught hold of eye glared-foam appeared at the mouth, and the the oaken table for support, and gasped as if for breath. monk, still wearing that grim smile of defiance and There was an awful pause.
contempt, fell heavily forward on the floor. “Mercy! mercy !" faltered Wyckhamme. “I will When they raised Father Francis he was dead. The confess !”
monk knew the secret of many strong poisons. “ Traitor and coward !" shouted Father Francis, " Then thy accusation was false ?" said the king. are lost."
“Pardon, sire, it was; but the priest - the priest “ Seize that priest,” said the king, with a voice like a set me on-pardon,” faltered the wretched Wycktrumpet.
hamme, who had sunk in a quivering heap upon the Father Francis made a quick motion of one of his ground. hands towards his face, and then dashing aside with a “ Take him away,” said Henry—“to death! Huntconvulsive effort the brawny arms laid upon him, he ley shall assume his rank; and now," he took Mabel's exclaimed
hand and placed it in that of her lover, "my faithful “Away! I am beyond your reach."
sentinel, receive thy bride."
I am in the position of a man who has fallen behind fulness are open to the enterprising and hopeful; but to his age. I was reckonid to have some talent for busi- one whose spirit has been broken by misfortune, and ness, as business was conducted in my young days, but crushed by domestic bereavement, this sort of interI have never caught the go-ahead spirit of these times-course with the poorest of the poor, appears to have a straining, pushing, jostling, manœuvring, over-reaching melancholy suitability. It is a walk few will envy -by which it has happened, that many who set me. Seldom do those who take to mendicity rise to out with me in the voyage of life, have far outstripped anything better, and seldom does he who interests himme, and perhaps as many more have foundered and self in beggars, meet with anything to cheer or encoursunk never to rise again. Thirty years ago, I was age him. It is generally from bad to worse. Let me a committee man in most of the religious and benevo- gratefully record an exception. lent societies of my native town; now, these societies Among those who have frequently got a penny are ten for one ; and the same spirit that has changed or two at my counting-house, was an interesting boy the face of mercantile business, has found its way into about eight years of age. He could give little account the pursuits of charity, so that the modes of raising the of himself, except that his father was dead, and his wind for these purposes have seemed to me to become mother was sick, almost always sick, and unable to nearly as complicated and difficult, and reinoved from work; and she had no one in the world but him, and the simplicity of more Christian benevolence, as the all he could do was to beg for her. There was nothing methods of acquiring private wealth are from the sim- to distinguish this squalid, ragged child from the comple rules of industry and frugality which I once mon herd of young beggars, except that he did not believed sufficient and infallible. My business has whine or cry; he told his story with a certain frankness become a very humble jog-trot affair; my name has and manly confidence, that made one almost sure it was disappeared from one committee after another; finally, true. I gave him some small change whenever he an increasing family, with diminishing means, has forced called, and often wished it were in my power to rescue me to withdraw even my subscriptions; and the only him from this vagrant life, almost certain to lead way in which the floodgates of benevolence bave been sooner or later to vice and infamy. But having nothing kept open for some years, has been by giving an occa- further in my power, I did not feel at liberty even to sional penny to a certain set of mendicants, who sta- make stricter inquiry into the case. I did indeed mentedly visit my little counting-house. I never argue with tion the child to some of my more opulent and influenthose who tell me it is wrong to relieve beggars; tial neighbors, but they could see no way of benefiting I don't care to grapple with the general principle; him, except getting him into an orphan hospital, which it suffices for me that this humble and slender charity would have separated him from his mother, and this I gratifies the desire of alleviating human misery; it could not believe to be right. I durst not attempt keeps me in constant contact with those who are worse any plan the burden of which would probably fall upon off than myself, and prevents me from being wholly myself. I had to think of eight motherless little chilabsorbed in my own selfish sorrows; the sight of dren of my own, whom I was barely able to support, so much misery that I cannot relieve, makes me regret and whom my death might some day leave utterly desmy poverty more for the sake of others than for titute. So I continued just to give little George the myself, and leads me to bless the All-wise Disposer for usual dole of alms, encouraging him to hope that he what I have, instead of dwelling replningly on what I would soon be able to work for his mother; and advishave not. I rejoice that more auspicious paths of use- ing him meanwhile to avoid bad company, to refrain
his hands from stealing, and to keep a sharp look-out, by my likeness to him; and he asked me about my for any honest way of earning a penny now and then, mother and all, and went to see her. And, sir, he rather than begging one.
bought me all these clothes ; and he washed me, and One day a lady who kept a boarding-house told me did my hair with his own hands, and still he looked me that her inmates were in the habit of leaving bits of in the face and said, 'You're the image of your father, good meat and vegetables on their plates, besides crusts my boy, that's the way I knew you.' And, sir, he is to of bread and other matters, which could not be cooked bring his car to-morrow, to take us home to live with ap again, and yet were too good for the waste pail, and bim; and he says my mother will be quite well again she asked if I knew any poor creature that would think when she is rightly taken care of; and he says he'll it worth while to call for such scraps. I gratefully send me to school, and bring me up respectable. You accepted the offer, and promised to send little George, would wonder, sir, how tender-hearted he is, to be a while secretly I hoped and prayed that she might inte big, stout man ; I thought nothing of my mother cryrest herself further, and that this might prove one step ing when they talked about my father; but it was queer to his deliverance from mendicancy.
to see my uncle crying, as if he had been nothing A few days afterwards, George made his appearance for all the world but a woman itself.” at my office, but so metamorphosed, that at first I did Thus did the little fellow run on, nor did I care not know him. He was so well dressed from head to interrupt him. To tell the truth, I was afraid that, to foot, his free and hands perfectly clean, and his hair if I spoke, I might betray such weakness as was, neatly cut and brushed—a remarkable pretty boy I now in George's estimation, “ like nothing but a woman for the first time perceived him to be.
itself.” A moment he paused, and seeming not to “ Why, child, what has happened to you?” I exclaim- understand my silence, he added, “ And, sir, I thought ed, as soon as I recognized him.
I might come and tell you, and bid you good-by; for, “ That's just what I came to tell you, sir, for I perhaps, if you had seen me not coming back, you thought you would like to know. You see, sir, as might have thought I had taken to some bad ways I was walking easily along, last Wednesday, I saw a against your advice. So I thought I had better come gentleman looking very hard at me. And then he and tell you.” came straight up, and he changed color, and asked me Of course, I congratulated my little protégé on this my name; and I told him it. And he said, “Then I'm happy turn in his destiny ; I made him promise not to your uncle.' And, sir, he looked very white, and neglect going to a Sunday-school ; and with some furseemed as if he could scarcely get out the words ; but he ther words of advice, I parted with him, blessing Protold me he was a well-to-do farmer in the country, and vidence for one bright beam ou my cheerless path, and that he was a bachelor without a family, and that my fondly cherishing the hope that I might meet George father was his only brother, and that he knew me again at some future stage of life's journey.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "WALTER MARCH ; OR, SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS,” AND “PACA, AN ARMY MEMOR.”
NOTHING heeding, Philip reached his place, and was up, drew the other hip down—and, finally, with the told off with a squad for drill. And now began a com- i lower part of his waist as a pivot, they set hinn a-swingbination of physical with moral torture.
ing to and fro, spinning this way and that, and gyrating, They straightened his arms and stiffened his knees, generally, till he fancied himself the pendulum of an they twisted the palms of his hands around to the eight-day clock, destined nerer to run down. front—they pinned his little finger to the seams of his Then came the newest hobby of the newest commandpants-distorted his eyes right and left—made a wind- ant of cadets—the balance step. Shades of Tristram mill of him—clamped his heels together-stuck out his Shandy! we shall not undertake to ride our reader upon toes to an unaccustomed angle-punched his belly up every hobby-horse that galloped through the academy into his breast, till he swelled up like a frog-cocked his in the time of Smitth. But of all footings in the grand head back-bobbed in his chin for bim-drew one hip! account of human experience, the balance step would
come limping in at the last.
To stand, with the eyes at such a distance to the front, the body with such an inclination to the rear, the fingers fixed, so, the head equally immovable, a heel planted towards South Barracks, its toe pointing towards the sutler shop; the whole frame, or human machine, spiked, as it were, through the heel and toe aforesaid into the ground, while the other foot promenades to and fro, halts, chassees, and plays round—like Bunsby's one eye fixed with the other rolling—this civil peruse (thank your civil stars) conveys some faint notion of the balance step.
Then followed, in Master Philip's military career, the mysteries of change step, and the oblique step. The former may not be without its uses in the career of civil heroes, if he would keep pace with these shifting times. The latter
“Oh!" groaned Julian, one of Phil's
“ 'Tis right oblique across the plain,
And left obliquing back again !"
The peculiarity of the step consists in looking one way and marching another (not so very unusual in life, after all !) Julian said of it the description of Vulcan in Homer:
“With legs distorted wide, oblique he moves."
But, what business had a plebe with Homer? And the oblique step, though high in favor among heathen gods, and not unknown even to the animal vu). garly called the British Lion, who fixes his eyes so rebukingly towards Young America, while slily he obliques to
wards India. Yet, truly, it is an unnecessary and tor-, cups of tea !" sounded above the chattering of voices, turesoine step, and should be eschewed as well by ' and the rattle of knives and forks. soldiers as civilians. Philip has often told us, he con- The plebe's impudence must be corrected; he shall sidered it a sign of rust.*
have no sugar nor milk this time. Phil sent his cup That was a brave sight on West Point plain (so car- back to the squad-marcher. peted with its crisp, green grass), to see the squads of “A plebe who wants sugar and milk, must put his youths dotted about here and here, marched hither and spoon in his saucer,” said the squad-marcher, authorithither, wheeled, intermingled, folded and twisted, and tatively. straightened out at will by those smart youngsters Admonished thus publicly of his manners, our friend strutting singly, and not too unconscious of their own crimsoned to the ears for shame, but said nothing. importance either, in trim grey coats, with such bright It was with great relief, Phil heard the order given by bell buttons. The provoking ease of them, their cool the captain of the plebes : airs of superiority, their haughty powers of reproof, their “New cadets-rise !" lordly dignity of approval, the cutting sarcasm, told At which, each fellow sprang up, as if shocked by afterwards in the cockloft as such a rare joke, though some galvanic force, dropping his knife, fork, or cup, in rankling long, long over in South Barracks' with haste, if not dismay. Though our friend came an-hunheart-burning, and told with tears in a letter home; I gered to the hall, he had eat little, and felt sickened the quick, sharp, startling command, given perhaps with bodily, as well as mental, suffering; for, the hasty to one never used to ungentle orders before; yes, a breakfast, scarcely touched, aboard the boat, has been brave sight it all was, unquestionably, but the stings of some of those young tyrants in bright buttons and rattan canes, though silently endured, was not soon forgotten.
Oh, the stings of tender boyhood ! though blown to the winds, like nettles, manhood and the world remain filled with them.
The drum beats recall from drill, and each young squad-marcher faces his squad towards South Barracks, where they are dismissed till supper time. Then, behind the corps of cadets, they are trampoosed over to the mess hall in a body. The poor plebes follow that easy martial array, on pins and needles. Philip's finger-joints ache beneath their nails, with constraint. His belly so bamboozled up into his breast, his hams extended, his knees stiffened and bolted, his heels trodden upon by some one in rear, still more awkward than he. Like convicts, they file in at the door. They take seats at the word of command. A squad-marcher presides in state over each table. And eyes are on, and around our friend; not tender eyes, but sharp, eager, mocking, mischievousthey seemed to Philip like so many barbed arrows.
The amount of importance attached to trifles, was fast overwhelming Master Philip. How timidly he asked for that second cup of tea!
“A plebe two cups of tea !" cried the squad-marcher.
The cry was caught at another table, and echoed abroad, and “A plebe two
* It is a literal fact, that while in the dragoon drill this abominable step is abolished, it continues to stain our infantry tactics.
his whole day's cheer. However, it is a traditionary | There was to be no lying down to rest their weary fact, that a plebe soon comes to his appetite, and limbs, before tattoo. Like the unused traveller of the devours his “bull beef,” and “hash,” with great relish. West, undergoing the operation of a Turkish bath, their
The sunset and twilight hours were spent in such limbs had been twisted and tortured till every joint recreation as new cadets might find, while yet ignorant cracked again; but unlike the traveller, there remained of “the ropes
"—though not of the ropings, as we may not the repose and golden vision to follow. Even when see in due time.
taps * brought the hour of retirement, the be's rest Call to quarters found our three roommates together was not particularly enhanced by his blanket on the again, in their seven by nine. One of the young gen- floor, and such shapes as his imagination bodied forth tlemen complained of the toothache. He asked Philip over the approaching examination. to find out Mayberry—he lived in North Barracks—was As yet the young men, notwithstanding their wara fellow statesman; and ask Mayberry to send Redes- rants, signed at Washington, were probationers, not dale a pipe, in which he proposed to smoke some pep-Cadets ; but, as their mischievous seniors often remindper as an anodyne.
ed them, mere “ things," or as the lawyers would say, Phil went. At the door of North Barracks, he found choses in action. But the ordeal towards which their a group of cadets, one of whom was a tall, slashing wistful eyes were fixed, was paved beforehand by daily fellow, begirt with a huge cavalry sabre.
lessons and recitations, held by the chief scholars of “ Can you tell me, sir," inquired Phil, of the tall the preceding class—fellows who are just molting their knight, “ what room Mr. Mayberry lives in ?"
own plebe feathers. “ What do you want to know for, plebe ?"
Philip and his room-mates were yawning over the "To get a pipe for Redesdale.”
morrow's lesson, when Redesdale pushed away slate "A pipe!" echoed the tall knight, looming up like a and pencil, and drew from his trunk a little volume of giant in the thickening twilight. Contrary to regula- poems, “the gift,” said he, “ of one of my sisters," and tions, plebe.”
there were, between the leaves, to attest the fact, a book Phil did not feel conscious of any crime.
marker daintily embroidered. Philip's eyes were de“I did not know that. I asked you a civil question, lighted. Rude as were his conceptions of art, he knew sir."
very well that Nan could never do anything equal to “Do you, sir, know to whom you are talking? I am that. officer of the guard, sir. Go to your quarters under “Since we have no better way to amuse ourselves," arrest!"
said Redesdale, “ let's have a little poetry.” Abashed and yet indignant, our hero returned to his “Poetry !" savagely ejaculated Julian, “haven't you room, scarcely knowing how he got there; his heart so
a pack of cards ?" oppressed and bewildered. In-doors he conscientiously Redesdale looked aghast. remained, not dreaming what might be his fate—but
"Cards ! playing cards would dismiss us." afraid to venture out again, for fear of violating his “Very well," moodily rejoined the other, “if there arrest; a dim, confused, sublime sense of honor already are no cards, give us a few chapters out of the Bible.” dawned upon him. In an hour or so, came a young Master Redesdale gasped with horror. His revergentleman in grey, tapping at the door quite cere- ence for the Holy Book knew no limit. At home in inoniously. He had a musket and belts, and announced Virginia, where Mrs. Redesdale dwelt, amid an atmoshimself as corporal of the guard. With a compassion, that phere of piety, purified hebdomadally by the best of mnight have been touching were it not simply ludicrous, little country parsons, there was nothing but gentle this gentleman released our friend from arrest. He then addressed to him a little fatherly advice on the regula- But with Philip the case was quite different. He tions, and the deference due officers of the guard and laughed his first laugh at the Academy. other old cadets, and astonished the room by winding up “Here we are,” said Julian, " prisoned in a cell. We with a grand flourish of-pipes! After all, he had want something to divert us—I proposed cards. Next come with pipes for Redesdale, to smoke away his to that, something to subdue rebellious thought-I protoothache. Then he made them a grandiloquent speech, pose the Bible. What say you, Smitth ?” in which patriotism and pipes, chivalry and the regula- “I'm agreed to anything." tions, officers of the guard and tobacco, were tossed “Poetry does well enough for the happy, but for the about in a jumble, and left, then, with a formal bow.
unhappy-us poor devils for instance--give me music." It was Redesdale's friend, Mayberry.
His room-mates began to think Julian a queer fellow. He went to his trunk and took out a case, from which, with as much gentleness as though he had a love for it
he drew forth an old violin. OHAPTER VI.
“Now,” said he, “ Redesdale—mope! Smitth, can
you dance ?"
" Yes." Call to quarters was the signal for study hours.
* The author deems it best not to explain technical terms. Even Soon after Mayberry left them, our three candidates
when not precisely understood, they address the reader's imagination to for admission were plunged in Davies' Arithmetic. advantage.