Strand Magazine v001i001 1891 01

AT THE ANIMALS^ HOSPTIAL. 71 A. N. Powys, assures us that three hundred in the Edgware-road. A pig is readily students are at present located here, and, together with the educational staff, num¬ recognised, and a fine dog seems to be bering, amongst others, such veterinary authorities as looking up to the late Professor as an old Professors Axe, triend. This interesting collection will Penberthy, Mc¬ Queen, Coghill, shortly be added and Edwards, they visit the to by all that is beds of some fifty horses left of the cele¬ every day, together with those of some ten brated race- or a dozen dogs, to say nothing of pigs and sheep weakly inclined, and cows of nervous horse “Hermit.” temperament. During the past twelve It is to the months 1,174 horses have been examined for unsoundness. More than four thousand Museum that animals were treated either as in-patients or out-patients during that period. the students re¬ Passing through the gateway, a fine open pair two or three times a week, and gain a space is immediately in front, with a roadway laid down for the purpose of testing the practical knowledge of the ailments which soundness of horses. Just at this moment a fine prancing steed, a typical shire horse, are associated with animals. with his coat as brown as a new chestnut, and his limbs and quarters as they should be, The glass cases contain horses’ mouths, is led out by a stalwart groom. For all the animal’s 16^ hands, there is a question as showing the various stages of the teeth. to his soundness. A professor hurries up, followed by a score, of students, with note¬ Innumerable are the bottles holding pre¬ books and pencils ready. The horse is served portions of each and every animal. trotted round the gravel-path, then gal¬ loped with a rider bare-back. A thought¬ In one of the cases is a very interesting ful consultation follows, and the verdict pro¬ nounced upon its respiratory organs is : specimen of the students’ work. It illustrates “ As sound as a bell.” the anatomy of a dog’s leg. The bone is There is an estimable and enterprising gentleman touring the London streets who taken in hand by the student, and by an is the proprietor of a group of animals Avhich ingenious arrangement of red sealing Avax he facetiously calls “The Happy Family.” the blood-vessels are faithfully and realisti¬ These are in the flesh, cally introduced. alive and frolicsome ; but here in Camden hi very case contains a curiosity—one is ToAvn, Avhere all things full of the feet of horses, and its next-door veterinary are studied, neighbour protects a Avonderful array of is a happy family—in horseshoes. The ideal horse-shoe is one the bone. They are Avhich requires no nails. The nearest gathered together in approach to this is a shoe which clamps the unison around the bust hoof, is screAved up tightly, and the Avdiole of the late Professor thing kept in place by an iron band. The Robertson. The “ ship great amount of pressure Avhich is required of the desert ” has on to keep the shoe from shifting, and the its left an elephant of possible injury it may cause the Avearer, has formidable size, near vTich stands an prevented its universal use. ostrich. On the camel’s right is a cow, and a lion, originally part of a menagerie Here is an old-fashioned drenching bit— the old idea of ad¬ ministering medicine to horses. The bit is holloAv and a funnel is attached to it, to be inserted in the animal’s mouth and the mixture poured in. To-day, hoAvever, a tin drench¬ ing can of a somcAATat pyraniidical shape is simply used. At the door one may brush against Avhat ap¬ pears to be a mop of extra size. It is-—to use a homely expres¬ sion—a calf’s leg v^ith “ a housemaid’s knee.” This curious groAvth is five feet in circumference and a foot and a half in

72 THE STRAND MAGAZINE, depth. But perhaps the most remarkable employed in lameness^ as a blister .on the corner is that devoted to the storing of limb. It is interesting to be told that there massive stones and cement, hardened are a number of horses in the hunting field, together, which have been taken from the in the streets, and the park, wearing silver bodies of various animals. tracheotomy tubes, as an assistance to their breathing, and, to put it in the words of a These are of all shapes and sizes. Two doctor, “ doing well.” of them taken from a mare, weigh fifty-four pounds, and many of them would turn the The pharmacy is by no means to be scale at thirty-five to forty pounds. The hurriedly passed by. It is the chemist’s formation of such stones is curious. Above shop of the establishment, the place where is a drawing—in miniature—of a huge stone students enter to be initiated into all the formed inside a cow. The cow—by no mysteries of compounding a prescription. means a careful one—enjoyed the green They may crush the crystals into powder grass of the meadow in blissful ignorance in a mortar of diminutive size, or pound them that even tin-tacks and nails get lodged on in one as big as a copper with a pestle as the sward occasionally. The cow, in her long as a barber’s pole. A great slate is innocence, swallowed the nail—there it is^ covered with veterinary hieroglyphics ; the imbedded in the centre. Lime and earth shelves are decorated with hundreds of blue deposited and hardened round it, with the bottles, the diawers brimming over with result that an immense stone was formed of tiny phials and enormous gallipots. Step nearly forty pounds in weight. behind a substantial wooden screen, which practically says “ Private,” and you have Next comes the instrumenLroom. This the most approved of patterns in the way of is an apartment not calculated to act as a a chemist’s counter. Here is every item, sedativ^e upon the visitor who is forced to down to the little brass scales and weights, be a frequent caller on the dentist. The the corks and sealing wax, the paper and forceps for drawing horses’ teeth are more string. than a yard long, and it requires a man of might and muscle to use them with effect. From the pharmacy to the Turkish bath 1 he tracheotomy tubes—inserted when a IS but a step. Veterinary authorities have horse has difficulty in breathing—stand out ailived at the conclusion that a Turkish brightly from amongst the dull and heavy bath is the finest remedy that can be found appearance of the firing irons, which are for skin disease in horses. This takes the

AT THE ANIMALS' HOSPITAL. 73 form of a square stable, heated by a furnace a sigh of relief as soon as the tying-up was at the. back. Not an outlet is permitted over. for the escape of the hot air, and it can be heated to any temperature required. The A slip of linen or calico is carefully cut horse, too, can enjoy all the luxuriousness to size and strapped on with strong tapes'. of a shower bath, and if necessary can dabble It is likewise considered beneficial that the his four feet in a foot-bath handy. Indeed, patient should be kept in ignorance as to everything goes to prove the whole system its whereabouts : for the horror of “ hos¬ of treating sick animals is founded on the pital ” which pervades most people’s minds same principle as that meted out to human exists in the imaginations of animals as well. beings. Therefore the sick Polly must needs sub¬ mit to having her eyes bandaged that she One must needs look in at the open door may realise the position of being in the of the shoeing-forge. The clang of the dark as to her lodging for a week or two. blacksmith’s hammer makes a merry accom¬ A strip of the same material from which paniment to the prancing of a dozen fine the shoulder-strap was cut is tied on to the creatures just entering to be shod. The head-collar. whistling of the bellows, and the hissing of the roused-up flames vie with the snorting “ Polly’s ” next-door neighbour, however, of a grand bay mare who cannot be num¬ presents a much more serious case. bered amongst the most patient of her sex. “ Joe ” has recently been gaining experi¬ “ Stand over, miss—stand over,” cries a ence in the fact that life is but a chapter of strapping, brawny lad. “ She’ll take a accidents. Joe could not be characterised number five ; ” and from a stock of three as a careless creature ; indeed, it is chroni¬ hundred and fifty dozen new shoes which cled of him that he v/ould positively feel adorn the walls—and, if numbers count for for every step he took, and pick out the anything, good luck should pervade every safest spots in the line of route. Poor Joe ! nook and corner of the forge—a five-inch His careful line of action and method of shoe is quickly adjusted, and the bay, not travelling did not meet with that reward to yet realising the new footing upon which which it was entitled. Alas ! he now rest^ she stands, enlists the services of a pair of here as a warning to his fellow-horses not men to hold her in. to put trust in the treacherous smoothness of the agreeable asphalt, or too much faith The paddock in the immediate neighbour¬ in the comfort afforded by the pleasures of hood of the forge is the sick-ward of the hospital for horses. Every horse has its “ DAVID.” own apartment—a loose box, the door of which is fitted with iron bars jured thigh, and a severe fracture has through which the doctor can befallen one half of what he depended inspect his patient. The inmate’s upon to carry him through life. card, which tells its sex and colour, date of entrance, number, disease, and treatment prescribed, is affixed to the door, and every day a professor goes his rounds. The hospital surgeon also pays continual visits, and medicine is administered at intervals varying from two or three hours to three or four days. Here is one of the most patient of the inmates, “ Polly,” a pretty creature who would add to the pic¬ turesqueness of any hunting-field in the country, and who has dis¬ located her shoulder. Polly might be held up as a credit to any hospital. She bore her bandag¬ ing—not always a painless operation, for the linen must needs be fastened firmly —without moving a muscle, only heaving

74 THE STRAND MAGAZTNE, “Rest, complete rest, is what he needs,” corner—a small operating room fitted up remarks a passing doctor. And a very in¬ with a trevis, a wooden structure where the genious arrangement is provided in order animal to be operated upon is placed, and to attain the desired end. strapped in with ropes, so that movement This consists of a big canvas sling, held THE NURSERY, up by half a dozen pulleys. On this the whole weight of the body is impossible ; only a moment, such a bark¬ is supported, and the ing and a whining breaks upon the peaceful comfort afforded is equiva¬ air—troublous cries that find an outlet lent to that provided by from the open door of an upper room, to a good bed to a weary which ascends a stable staircase. It is the man. The animal is so dogs’ ward J weak that, if he tumbled down, it is doubtful The barking of the inmates is to be inter¬ whether he would get up preted into an unmistakable welcome. Here, again. Here he will re¬ in corners of the cosiest, and beds of the main until completely whitest wood-fibre, reclines many a magnifi¬ recovered, which means cent specimen. These fine St. Bernard pups enjoying the repose are worth ^250 a piece, and only a week or afforded by this horsey two ago a patient was discharged as con¬ hammock for a period valescent, upon whose head rested the figure between six weeks and six months. £ 1,200. Most of them are suffering from The two fractured limbs skin disease ; but here is a pup, with a coat are, for the time being, of irnpenetrable blackness, afflicted with imbedded in iron splints St. Vitus’s dance. He wears a pitiful ex¬ with leather bands, and pression j but, save for an occasional twitter fitted with little pads in of a muscle, rests very quietly. Every cage front in order not to cut is occupied, save one, and that is an apart¬ the leg. All these sur¬ ment with double iron gates. It is set apart for ^ mad dogs. Every creature bears gical appliances are in every way as perfect its affliction with remarkable resignation, as if they were intended for the human and, as one passes from bed to bed, runs out franie, instead of for a horse’s. to the length of its chain and stands looking up the sawdust-strewn floor which leads to Sickness does not seem to diminish the “ the nursery.” appetites of the inmates, and doses of iron and quinine are not of frequent occurrence. One fine fellow, however, rests in a It may take three or four months to cure a case of lameness, and long terms of confine¬ ment may possibly be needed for diseases of the respiratory or digestive organs, or of the skin. But the bill for food, hay and straw, amounted to the comfortable sum of ;^i,5io os. 8d. last year, against the modest outlay of ^i66 iis. 5d. which was spent in drugs. The number of horse-patients con¬ fined to well-kept beds of straw and healthy peat-moss, in admirably ventilated apart¬ ments, averages fifty at one time. Their paddock—or sick-ward—is a pattern of clean¬ liness, neatness, and good order. There is only a moment to spend in the operating theatre, acknowledged to be the finest in Europe. It is a huge space covered with a glass canopy, where four or five horses can be operated on at once. There is ample accommodation for every student in the hospital to obtain a good view of the proceedings. Only a moment also to peep in at a little apartment in the far

AT THE ANIMALS' HOSPITAL. 75 comer, near the bath, the very personifica¬ the iron bars, and his leg was broken. The child was quite safe ; she was only gathering tion of all that is dignified. “ David ” is a grand St. Bernard, upon flowers. “The Nursery” is a room set apart at whom a coat of shaggy beauty has been bestowed and the blessing of a inajestic pre¬ the far end for the reception of the smaller sence. He sits there with his front paw dangling over the bed-side 5 helpless, but not species of the canine tribe. uncared for. His leg is broken, and he holds The two little Skye terriers fondling it out, tightly tied up and bandaged, as token thereof. Cheer up, David, old boy one another are suffering from ingrown toe¬ look a bit pleasant, David, my brave fellow. But David only shakes his head in grateful nails and must needs have them cut. The thanks for a word of sympathy. ^ He is a cot next to them is empty ; but a “ King credit to his breed, and his noble disposition Charles ” will convert the apartment^ into would lead him to forget what brought him a royal one on the morrow. His Majesty, there. It is a touching story. His owner’s too, requires the application of the scissors little daughter was his mistress ; David to his royal toes. Above is a terrier follow^ed her wherever she went, and—save beautifully marked—but, withal, wearing at night time—never allowed her out of a remarkably long expression ^ of coun¬ his sight, and even then he would nestle tenance. Something is wrong with one of outside her door on the mat, until the his ears, and his face is tied up like that of child woke in the morning. Just a week an individual writhing beneath the tortures ago the little girl had wandered down of toothache. “ Dot ” envies his brother the river bank, climbing over the iron terrier next door. There is nothing wrong railings separating the pathway from the with him / he is not an inmate, but a tiny valley which led down to the water. David did not notice this action, and when he boarder, and the property of one of the turned his head saw that his mistress had officials. A pretty httle couple of_ colleys are sympathising with each other m their disappeared. With his mind bent on the affliction as they lie cuddled up in the corner. They are both queer—something wrong water, he took a leap, intending to spring over the rails ; but his front paw caught with their lungs. Out in the open again, we look in upon a fine bullock with a very ugly swollen face. But here, in a corner all to itself, we

76 THE STRAND MAGAZINE, meet with a veritable curiosity—a cow with portion of the yard set apart for out-patients, a wooden leg ! and termed by the hospital authorities their “cheap practice.” This is a strapping young Alderney, of such value that it was deemed advisable Every day—excepting Sundays—between to provide her with a wooden support the hours of two and four, a motley crowd instead of killing her at once. “ Susan ” assembles here, bringing with them an animal which has betrayed signs to its was a pet, and had owner that it is not altogether “ fit.” The t her own way in most cabby who is the proud possessor of a four- wheeler and an ancient-looking steed comes “ SUSAN.’’ with a face which green-eyed monster within the breast of a tells another tale mare who sometimes shared her meadow. than that which be¬ Whether the cause was jealousy or not, one tokens a small fare. thing is certain—after a particularly hearty The coster thrusts meal, which seems to have endowed the mare his hands, deep into with exceptional strength and vigour, to his trousers pockets say nothing of a wicked and revengeful and waits in gloomy mind, she deliberately, and without warning, meditation. Visions kicked the fair Susan. Susan had to lie of his donkey being up for three or four months, and now a condemned to death wooden leg supports her injured frame. on the spot flash through his mind, A strap is fastened rouno the body of the and he almost re¬ cow; then a wooden support is placed grets he came. near the neck and attached to the main strap with leather bands. Finally, the iron- “ Guvnor—I say, bound timber leg is set in place ; and it is guvnor, it ain’t a 'opeless case, is it ? Don’t said that the animal sustains but little say it’s all up wi’ it. Yer see, guvnor, I inconvenience. couldn’t help but bring it along. I’m a rough ’un, but I’ve got a ’art, and, there, I Following a number of students, we are couldn’t stand it no longer, seein’ the poor soon within the precincts of the dissecting creeter a limpin’ along like that. On’y say room. This is a square room containing a it ain’t a ’opeless case.” dozen or twenty dead donkeys, each laid out on a table for dissection. The enterprising He will soon be out of his suspense, for students repair to Islington Cattle Market, his donkey will be examined in its turn. and for a pound or thirty shillings purchase a likely subject from an obliging coster¬ Not only is advice given gratis and the monger. Half a dozen of them will each animal thoroughly examined, but, should take a share in the expense incurred, and it need medicine, or call for an operation, work together at a table, passing from head this is readily done, the students generally to tail until a complete examination has performing it under the superintendence of been made. one of the professors. But what most interests the casual The “ poor man’s ” gate has just been visitor is “ The Poor Man’s Corner,” a opened, and Mr. E. R. Edwards, the hospital surgeon, holds the bridle of the first horse for examination as the students gather round. One of the professors appears upon the scene, and asks the owner what is the matter with his horse. “ He can ’ardly walk, sir.” “ Lame, eh ? ” “ I expec’s so, sir.” “ What are you ? ” “ Hawks wegetables about, sir.” The horse is trotted up the yard and back again. Then the professor turns to a student and asks what he considers is wrong with the animal. “ Lame in both hind legs ; ”—and, the student having diagnosed the case correctly.

AT THE ANIMALS^ HOSPITAL. 77 the animal is walked off to be further owned by a laundryman, a widower, who had eleven children to support, the oldest treated and prescribed for. Case after case is taken. One horse that of whom was only fifteen years of age, and draws firewood from seven in the morning the youngest six months. He depended until ten or eleven at night, cannot eat. entirely on his horse to carry the laundry Away it goes for examination, and the tem¬ round from house to house. The poor fellow stood quietly by and perature of its pulse is taken. A lad, evidently not used to the stubborn disposi¬ seemed to read in the professor’s face and tion and immovable spirit of donkeys in gather from his hurried consultation with a general, has brought his own, which he brother “ vet.” that something out of the informs the professor he only purchased common was the matter with his^ horse. the week afore last.” Now, nothing In response to the doctor’s beckoning, he under the sun in the shape of argument approached the spot where the animal stood, with whip or words will make it go at any and, with tears in his eyes, asked in a chok¬ thing like the pace which the man from ing voice, “ Not an operation, I hope, sir ? ” The professor shook his head. whom he bought it guaranteed. ^ Then the truth flashed upon the laundry- “ Why, sir, I had to drag it here. Ton my word, I believe as ’ow he knew where I man’s mind. He stood dumbfounded for a wL a takin’ ’im, for he crawled more’n ever. moment. The students ceased their chatter, I thought as ’ow there might be something and, save for the movement of a horse’s foot upon the uneven stones, the yard was wrong wi’ his wind.” “ Trot him along,” said the professor ; but as still as the ward of a hospital where the donkey turned a deaf ear to the inviting human beings lie. The horse was con¬ cries of forty or fifty students to “ go pn,” demned to death ! The poor fellow threw his arms about the and bravely stood his_ ground. The victor was placed on one side to be dealt with animal’s neck, and the horse turned its head in response to his master’s caresses, later on. •u and the cry which came from the man’s heart The next case was one connected with a pathetic story. The horse—a poor creature could not have been more pitiful had he which had evidently seen better days- was been parting from his only friend.

The Mirror, From the French of Li^o Lesp^s. little stories wejrthe deliX’of thomlH • h?,! T r “.''“If™- brilliant been so great as it deserves.] ’ eyoiid the limits of his native country his fame has never LETTER L OU wish me to write to yoiij boasted colour, to which all beautiful my dear Anais-—me, a poor women are compared, I have forgotten—or blind creature whose hand • tu’diSometimes under moves faltering in the darkness ? Are you this tluck veil of darkness strange gleams not afraid of the sadness of my letters flit, the doctors say that this is the written as they are in gloom ? Have you rnovement of the blood, and that this may give some promise of a cure. Vain delusion I no fear of the sombre thoughts which must beset the blind ? Dear Anais, you are happy ; you can see. r nf\" fifteen years the To see Oh, to see ! to be able to distin- lights which beautify the earth, they are guish the blue sky, the sun, and all the ditterent^ colours—what a joy ! True I never to be found again except in heaven. once enjoyed this privilege, but when I was struck with blindness, I was scarcely I he other day I had a rare sensation. In ten years old. Now I am twenty-five It IS fifteen long years since everything around groping in my room I put my hand upon— me became as black as night I In vain, dear friend, do I endeavour to recall the ofl. you would never guess—upon a wonders of nature. I have forgotten all mirror! I sat down in front of if, and „hneprr hniuiAesc. TI smell it.hTe_ scent of the rose arranged my hair like a coquette. Oh! what would I have given to be able to regard myself!—to know if I was nice !—if mv skin is as white as it is soft, and if I have T guess its shape by the touch • but its hT 'i ^ often told us at school that the P y rne touch , but its devil comes in the glasses of little girls who

THE MIRROR^ 79 look at themselves too long ! All I can “ Oh ! it might be seen in my regards, say is, if he came in mine he must have my gestures, all my actions.” ^ ^. been nicely caught—my lord Satan. i “ That may be, but I am blind. A blind couldn’t have seen him ’• ., girl is not wooed as others are,” “ What do I care about the want of You ask me in your kind letter, which sight ? ” said he, with a delightful accent of they have just read to me, whether it is true sincerity ; “what matters it to me if your that the failure of a banker has ruined my parents. I have heard nothing about it. eyes are closed to the light ? Is not your No they are rich. I am supplied with every figure charming, your foot as tiny as a luxury. Everywhere that my hanci rests fairy’s, your step superb, your tresses long and silky, your skin of alabaster, your it touches silk and velvet, flowers and pre¬ complexion carmine, and your hand the cious stuffs. Our table is abundant, and every day my taste is coaxed with dainties 'colour of the lily ? ” . • r t.- Therefore, you see, Anais, that my beloved He had finished his description before his words ceased sounding in my ears. So^then, folks are happily well off. I had, according to him, a beautiful _ ngure, Write to me, my darling, since you are a fairy foot, a snowy skin, a com^exion like now back from that aristocratic England, a rose, and fair and silky hair. Oh, Anais, and you have some pity for the poor blind dear Anais, to other girls such a lover, who girl. describes all your perfections, is nothing but letter II. a suitor ; but to a blind girl he is more than You have no idea, Anais, what I am going a lover, he is a mirror. to tell you ! Oh ! you will laugh as if you I began again : “ Am I really as pretty as had gone crazy. You will believe that wit my sight I must have lost my reason. 1 all that ? ” „ “ I am still far from the reality. “ And what would you have^ me do ? have a lover ! , “ I want you to be my wife.” I laughed aloud at this idea. Yes, dear ; I, the girl without eyes, have “ Do you mean it ? ” I cried. “ A mar¬ a wooer as melting and as importunate as the lover of a duchess. After this, what is riage between the blind and to be said ? Love, who is as blind as blind between the day and the night . Why, i can be, undoubtedly owed me this as one o should have to put my orange blossoms on his own kind. by groping ! No ! no ! my parents are rich: How he got in amongst us^ i dont a single life has no terrors for me ; single I know ; still less, what he is going to do will remain, and take the service of Diana, here. All I can tell you is that he sat on as they say—and so much^ the worse for her mv left at dinner the other day, and that he looked after me with extreme care and if she is waited on amiss ! ^ He went away without saying a word This' is the first time, I said, that i more. It is all the same : he has taught have had the honour of meeting you. me that I am nice I I don’t know how it ‘‘True,” he answered, “ but I know your is that I catch myself loving him a little, Mr. Mirror mine ! ^ “ You are welcome,” I replied, “since you letter III. know how to esteem them—my good angels ! ” n Oh, dear Anais, what news I have to tell “ They are not the only people, he con¬ vou ' What sad and unexpected things befall us in this life! , As I tell you what tinued, softly, “ for whom I feel affection. “ Oh,” I answered, thoughtlessly, then has happened to me, the tears are falling whom else here do you like ? from my darkened eyes. Several days after my conversation with “ You,” said he. “ Me ? What do you mean ^ the stranger whom I call my mirror, I was “ That I love you.” walking in the garden, leaning on my “Me? You love ” mother’s arm, when she Le “ Truly ! Madly ! ” loudly called for. It seemed to me that the At these words I blushed, and pulle maldf in haste to find my mother, betrayed my scarf over my shoulders. He sat quite some agitation in her voice. ^ i _j silent. “ What is the matter, mother ? I asked “You are certainly abrupt in your an¬ her, troubled without knowing why. nouncement.”

8o THE STRAND MAGAZINE. “ Nothing, love ; some visitor, no doubt. ray happiness ; they have made me live in In _ our position we owe something to luxury amidst my darkness—and me alone society.’’ Oh ! marvellous devotion. All the wealth which a most grateful heart can ©ffer can- “ In that case,” I said, embracing her, I not pay this everlasting debt. will not keep you any longer. Go and do the honours of the drawing-room.” She pressed two icy lips upon my fore¬ head. Then I heard her footsteps on the LETTER IV. gravel path receding in the distance. I HAVE not told anyone that I have guessed this sad yet charming secret. My She had hardly left me when I thought mother would be overwhelmed to learn that dll her trouble to conceal her poverty from I heard the voices of two neighbours_two me has been use¬ workmen—who were chatting together less. I still affect a firm belief in thinking they ^ the flourishing condition of our were alone. You house. But I know, Anais, when God de¬ prives us of one of our faculties, he seems, in order to console am determined us, to make the to save it. others keener : the blind man M. de Sauves, has his hearing as my lover is sharper than his called, came to whose gaze can see me—and may traverse space. I Heaven forgive did not lose a me !—I set my¬ word of their re¬ self to play the marks, although coquette with they spoke in a him. low tone. And this is what they So I said : said : “Have you still the same esteem for me ? ” “ Poor things ! “ Yes,” said he. “ I love you be¬ how sad I The cause you are beautiful with the brokers in again ! ” ‘‘And the girl noblest beauty, has not the least which is pure and suspicion. She modest.” never guesses that “And my they take advan¬ figure ? ” tage of her loss “ As exquisite of sight to make HEARD VOICES.” and graceful as a her happy.” vine.” “ What do you mean } ” “ Ah ! and my forehead ? ” TTere isn’t any doubt about it. All Large, and smooth as the ivory which that her hand touches is of mahogany or it outshines.” velvet ; only the velvet has grown shabby and the mahogany has lost its lustre. At “ Really ? ” And I began to laugh. table she enjoys the most delicious dishes “ What makes you so merry ? ” without dreaming, in her innocence, that the domestic misery is kept concealed from An idea—that you are my mirror. I see her, and that alongside of that very table myself reflected in your words.” her father and mother seldom have anv- thmg except dry bread.” “ Dearest, I would that it might be so always.” “Would you agree, then-? ” To be your faithful mirror, to reflect can understand my your qualities, your virtues. Consent to agony ! They have practised on me for be my wife. I have some fortune ; you shall want for nothing, and I wijl

THE MIRROR 8i strive with all my power to make you LETTER VI, happy.” I AM a mother, Anais, the mother of a At these words I thought of my poor little girl, and I can’t see her ! They say parents, whom my marriage would relieve she looks sweet enough to eat. They make of an enormous burden. out that she is a living miniature of me, and I can’t admire her ! Oh, how mighty “ If I consent to marry you,” I answered, is a mother’s love ! I have borne without “ your self-love, as a man, would suffer. I a murmur not to look upon the blue of could not see you.” heaven, the glamour of the flowers, the features of my husband, of my parents, of “Alas ! ” he cried, “I owe you a confession.” those who love me ; but it seems that I can¬ “ Go on,” I said. not bear with resignation not to see my “ I am a graceless child of nature. I have child ! Oh, if the black band which covers neither charm of countenance, nor dignity my sight would fall for a minute, a second of carriage. To crown my misfortune, a only ; if I could look at her as one looks scourge, nowadays made powerless by the at the vanishing lightning, I should be art of vaccination, has mercilessly scarred happy—I should be proud for the remainder my features. In marrying a blind girl, of my life ! therefore, I show that I am selfish and with¬ out humility.” Edmond this time cannot be my mirror. I held out my hand to him. It is in vain that he tells me that my cherub “ I don’t know whether you are too hard has fair curly hair, great wayward eyes, and on yourself, but I believe you to be good a vermilion smile. What good is that to me ? and true. Take me, then, such as I am. I cannot see my little darling when she Nothing, at any rate, will turn my thoughts stretches out her arms to me ! from yours. Your love will be an oasis in the desert of my night.” LETTER Vn. Am I doing right, or wrong ? I know not, dear Ana'is, but I am going to my AIy husband is an angel. Do you know parents’ rescue. Perhaps, in my groping, [ have found the right way. what he is doing ? He has had me caretl LETTER V. for during the past year v/ithout my know¬ I THANK you for your kind friendliness, ing it. He wishes to restore the light to for the compliments and congratulations with which your letter is filled. me, and the doctor is—himself !—he who for Yes, I have been married for two months, my sake has adopted a profession from and I am the happiest of women. I have nothing to desire ; idolised by my husband, which his sensibility recoils. and adored by my parents, who have not left me, I do not regret my infirmity, since “ Angel of my life,” he said to me yester¬ Edmond sees for both of us. day, “ do you know what I hope ? ” The day I was married, my mirror—as I call him—reflected complacently my bridal “ Is it possible ? ” pomp. Thanks to it, I knew that my veil was nicely made, and that my wreath of “Yes ; those lotions which I made you orange-blossoms was not all on one side. What could a Venetian mirror have done use under the pretext that they would more ? ” beautify the skin, were really preparations In the evening we walk out together in the gardens, and he makes me admire the for an operation of a very different import¬ flowers by their perfume, the birds by their song, the fruit by its taste and its soft ance.” touch. Sometimes we go to the theatre, and there, too, he reproduces, by his wit, all “ What operation ? ” that my closed eyes cannot see. Oh ! what does his ugliness matter to me ? I no “ For the cure of cataract.” longer know what is beautiful, or what is ugly, but I do know what is kind and loving. “ Will not your hand tremble ? ” Farewell, then, dear Anal’s, rejoice in my “ No ; my hand will be sure, for my happiness, heart will be devoted.” “ Oh ! ” said I, embracing him, “ you are not a man, you are a ministering angel.” “Ah!” he said, “kiss me once more, dearest. Let me enjoy these last few moments of illusion.” “ What do you mean, dear ? ” “ That soon, with the help of God, you will regain your sight.” “ And then-? ” “ Then you will see me as I am -small, insignificant, and ugly.” At these it seemed to me as if a

82 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. flash shot through my darkness : it was my LAST LETTER. imagination which was kindling like a torch. Oh, my friend, don’t look a.t the end of “ Edmond, dearest,” I said rising, “ if you this letter before you have read the begin¬ do not trust my love, if you think that, whatever your face may be, I am not your ning. Take your share of my griefs, my willing slave, leave me in my nothingness, vicissitudes, and my joys, by following their natural course. in my eternal night.” The operation took place a fortnight He answered nothing, but pressed my ago. A trembling hand was placed hand. ^ upon my eyes. I uttered two piercing The operationymy’ mother told me, might cries; then I seemed to see day, light, be attempted in ^ month. colour, sun. Then instantaneously a I called to mind the details which I had bandage was replaced upon my burning asked about my husband. Mamma had told me that he was marked by small-pox ; forehead. I was cured ! only a little papa maintains that his hair is very thin : Nicette, our servant, will have it that he is patience and a little courage were required. Edmond had restored me to the sweetness of life. old. But, must I confess it ? I did a foolish To be marked by the small-pox is thing. I disobeyed my doctor—he will not to be the victim of an accident. To be know it : besides, there is no danger in my bald is a sign of intellectual power : rashness now. They had brought me my so said Lavater. But to be old—that is little one to kiss. Nicette was holding her a pity. And then, if, unfortunately, in the course of nature, he were to die be¬ in her lap. The child said in her soft voice, fore me, I should have less time to love “ Mamma ! ” I could resist no longer. I tore off the bandage. him. “ My child ! oh, how lovely she is ! ” I In fact, AnaiSj if you remember the cried out. “ I see her ! oh, I see her ! ” stories in the fairy book which we read Nicette quickly put the bandage on together, you with eyes and voice, I in again. But I was no longer lonely in the heart and spirit, you will admit that I darkness. This cherub face, restored by am rather in the interesting situation of “The Beauty and the Beast,” without memory, from that moment lighted up my having the resource of the transformation miracle. Meanwhile, pray for me ; for, night. with God’s help, who knows whether I shall not soon be able to read your precious Yesterday my mother came to dress me. We were long over my toilette. I had on a beautiful silk dress, a lace collar, my hair dressed d la Marie Stuart. When my letters ! arrangements were complete, my mother said to me :— “ Take off the band¬ age.” I obeyed, and though only a twilight prevailed in the room, I thought that I had never seen anything so beautiful. 1 pressed to my heart my mother, my father, and my child. “You have seen,” said my father, “ every body but yourself.” “And my husband,” I cried out, “ where is my husband ? ” “ He is hiding,” said my mother. Then I remembered his ugliness, his attire, his thin hair, and his scarred face. . .X . . *'

THE MIRE OR. ^3 “ Poor dear Edmond,” I said, “ let him gentleman who was behind it, like a lover in a comedy.” come to me. He is more beautiful than “ Eh ! goose,” cried my father, “ you Adonis.” need not be so bashful. It is your husband.” “ While we are waiting for your lord “ Edmond ! ” I cried out, and made a step forward to embrace him. and master,” mamma answered, “ admire Then I fell back. He was so beautiful I yourself; look in the glass. You may I was so happy ! Blind, I had loved in con¬ fidence. What made my heart beat now admire yourself for a long time without was a new love, swollen by the generosity of this truly noble man, who had ordered blame, if you are to make up for lost everyone to say that he was ugly, in order to console me for my blindness time.” Vi*: I obeyed ; a little from vanity, a little ' A YOUNG MAN CAME OUT.” from curiosity. What if I was ugly ? What Edmond fell at my knees. Mamma put if my plainness, like my poverty, had been me in his arms, as she wiped away her tears. concealed from me ? They led me to my “ How lovely you are,” said my husband to me, in an ecstasy. pier-glass. I uttered a cry of joy. “ Flatterer ! ” I answered, looking down With my slender figure, my com¬ at him. plexion like a rose, my eyes a little “No, when I alone was your mirror I always told you so—and see ! my colleague, dazed, and like two shimmering here, whom you have just consulted, is of the same opinion, and declares that I am sapphires, I was charming. Never¬ riffht theless, I could not look at myselt quite at my ease, for the glass was trembling without cessation, and my image reflected on its brilliant surface seemed as if it danced for joy. / I looked behind the glass to see what made it tremble. A young man came out—a fine young man, with large black eyes and striking figure, whose coat was adorned by the rosette of the Legion of Honour. I blushed to think that I had been so foolish in in the presence of a stranger. “Just look,” said my mother to me, without taking any notice of him, “how fair you are ; like a white rose.” “ Mamma ! ” I cried. “ Only look at these white arms,” and she pulled my sleeves above the elbow without the smallest scruple. “ But, mamma,” I said, “ what are you thinking of, before a stranger ! ” “ A stranger ? it is a mirror.” “ I don’t me^n the glass, but this young

Fac-simile of the N'ofes of a Semnon by Cardinal Manning. By the kindness of Cardinal Manning, we are able to present our readers with a fac-simile of the Cardinal’s synopsis of a sermon on Charity, preached on the 9th of July, 1890, in the chapel of the Sistps of Charity, Carlisle Place, Westminster. The fac-simile shows the Cardinal’s handwriting at the age of 83, and also his peculiar method of jotting down his notes on long, narrow slips, two of which are here given to a page» These notes are for a sermon of an hour’s duration. / C^^(r4. y, W#. XJU),e^vs^ /Vx'ho. \\ /< 7/^ H <3' ~J iiuu It ^ ^ ^ Ca SfL^wV ijc i ^ ... ■^. t/?'- CT- cc^' cJj r <r^ 0,^-0 ^ « y. «e^ ^^ h- vw»^ 7 iff

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The Qiieeii of Spades. Translated from the Russian of Alexander Pushkin. [Alexander Sergeivitch Pushkin, the first of the great Russian writers, was born at Moscow on Ascension Day, 1799- His father was a Russian nobleman, an officer, a courtier, and a wit, but so fiery-tempered that he threw up his commission in a rage at being reprimanded on parade for having used his cane to poke the fire. Pushkin’s mother was the granddaughter of a negro slave named Abraham Hannibal, whom Peter the Great had made a favourite and at last had raised to be an admiral—a piece of history stranger than romance. Pushkin’s African descent was visible in his appearance—in his crisp black hair, his irregular though mobile features, and his swarthy skin. At school .he hated wmrk—his sums always made him cry—• and he was the ringleader in every prank. When scarcely yet of age he wrote an “ Ode to Liberty,” for which he was condemned to exile in Bessarabia. There for some years he continued to pour forth the lofty, fiery, and romantic poems which have caused him to be termed the Byron of the North. Besides his poems Pushkin also wrote a striking volume of prose stories, from which “ The Queen of Spades ” is taken. When Nicholas was crowned he was recalled to Court, and in 1831 he married. For five years he lived in happiness ; but the husband of his wife’s sister, who was named George Danthes, preferred the wife of Pushkin to his own. Pushkin, who was as jealous as Othello, challenged Danthes to a duel. On the 29th of January, 1837, the brothers-in-law met with pistols at six paces, and Pushkin was shot through the body. Two days afterwards he breathed his last. Pie was buried, at his own desire, at a monastery near his early home, where his grave is still denoted by a cross of marble, bearing simply the initials A. S. P.] The Queen of Spades denotes ill-luck. Complete Fortune-Teller. HERE was a the assistance of the champagne, the con¬ card party at versation became animated, and was shared by all. the rooms of Naroumoff, a “ How did you get on this evening, lieutenant in the Surin ? ” said the host to one of his friends. Horse Guards. A long winter night “ Oh, I lost, as usual. I really have no had passed un¬ luck. I play mirandole. You know that I noticed, and it keep cool. Nothing moves me ; I never was five o’clock in the morning when change my play, and yet I always lose.” supper was served. The winners sat down to table with an excellent appetite ; the “ Do you mean to say that all ithe evening losers let their plates remain empty bel you did not once back the red ? Your fore them. Little by little, however, with firmness of character surprises me.” “What do you think of Hermann ? ” said one of the party, pointing to a young

88 THE STRAND magazine. Engineer officer. “ That fellow never made the Duke of Orleans, a very considerable a bet or touched a card in his life, and yet sum. When she got home, my grand¬ he watches us playing until five in the mother removed her beauty-spots, took off morning.^’ her hoops, and in this tragic costume went to my grandfather, told him of her mis¬ “ It interests me,” said Hermann ; but fortune, and asked him for the money she T am not disposed to risk the necessary in had to pay. My grandfather, now no more, view of the superfluous.” Avas, so to say, his Avife’s stCAvard. He feared her like fire ; but the sum she named “ Hermann is a German, and economical ; made him leap into the air. He flevA^ into a that is the whole of the secret,” cried rage, made a brief calculation, and proved Tomski. “ But what is really astonishing to my grandmother that in six months she is the Countess Anna Fedotovna ! ” had got through half a million roubles. He told her plainly that he had no villages to “ How so ? ” asked several voices. ^ sell in Paris, his domains being situated in Have you not remarked,” said domski, the neighbourhood of Moscoav and of Sara- toff; and finally refused point blank. You that she never plays ? ” may imagine the fury of my grandmother. She boxed his ears, and passed the night in “the old magician c.\\me at once.’ another room. “Yes,” said Naroumoff, “a woman of “ The next day she returned to the charge. eighty, who never touches a card ; that is indeed something extraordinary ! ” For the first time in her life, she con¬ descended to arguments and ex¬ “You do not know why ? ” planations. In A^ain did she try to “ No ; is there a reason for it ? ” proA^e to her husband that there “ Just listen. My grandmother, you Avere debts and debts, and that she know, some sixty years ago, went to Paris, could not treat a Prince of the and became the rage there. People ran blood like her coachmaker. after her in the streets, and called her the “All this eloquence AA^as^lost. ‘Muscovite Venus.’ Richelieu made love My grandfather AA^as inflexible. My to her, and my grandmother makes out grandmother did not knoAV AAffiere that, by her rigorous demeanour, she to turn. Happily she AA^as ac¬ almost drove him to suicide. In those quainted AAuth a man Avho Avas very days women used to play at faro. One evening at the Court she lost, on parole^ to celebrated at this time. You haA^e heard of the Count of St. Germain, about Avhom so many marvellous > stories AA^ere told. You knoAv that he passed for a sort of Wander- ing JeAv, and that he Avas said to possess an elixir of life and the philosopher’s stone. “ Some people laughed at him as a charla¬ tan. CasanoA^a, in his memoirs, says that he AA^as a spy. HoAvever that may be, in spite of the mystery of his life, St. Germain Avas much sought after in good society, and Avas really an agreeable man. EA^en to this day my grandmother has preserA^ed a genuine affection for him, and she becomes quite angry Avhen anyone speaks of him Avith disrespect. “It occurred to her that he might be able' to advance the sum of Avhich she AA^as in need, and she Avrote a note begging him to call. The old magician came at once, and found her plunged in the deepest despair. In tAvo or three AAX)rds she told him every¬ thing ; related to him her misfortune and the cruelty of her husband, adding that she had no hope except in his friendship and his obliging disposition.

THE QUEEN OF SPATES. 89 “ ‘ Madam,' said St. Germain, after a few cards, and you have never made her tell moments’ reflection, ‘ I could easily ad¬ them to you ? ” vance you the money you ^vant, but I am sure that you would have no rest until you “ That is the very deuce of it,” answered had repaid me, and I do not \\vant to get Tomski. “ She had three sons, of whom you out of one trouble in order to place my father was one ; all three were deter¬ you in another. There is another way of mined gamblers, and not one of them was settling the matter. You must regain the able to extract her secret from her, though money you have lost.’ it would have been of immense advantage to them, and to me also. Listen to what “ ‘ But, my dear friend,’ answered my my uncle told me about it. Count Ivan grandmother, ‘ I have already told you that I have nothing left.’ Hitch, and he told me on his word of honour. ‘‘‘That does not matter,’ Germain. ‘ Listen “ Tchaplitzki—-the one you remember wdio to me, and I will died in poverty after devouring millions— explain.’ lost one day, when he was a young man, to Zoritch about three hundred thousand ‘‘ He then com¬ roubles. He was in despair. My grand¬ municated to her mother, who had no mercy for the extrava¬ a secret which any gance of young men, made an exception— of you would, I am I do not know why—in favour of Tchap- sure, give a good litzki. She gave him three cards, telling deal to possess.” him to play them one after the other, and exacting from him at the same time his All the young officers gave their full attention. Tomski stopped to light his Turkish pipe, swallowed a mouthful of smoke, and then went on. “That very evening my grand¬ mother went to Versailles to play at the Queen’s table. The Duke of Orleans held the bank. My grandmother in¬ vented a little story by way of excuse for not having paid her debt, and then sat down at the table, and began to stake. She took three cards. She won with the first ; doubled her stake on the second, and won again ; doubled on the third, and still won.” “ Mere luck ! ” said one of the young officers. “ What a tale ! ” cried Hermann. “ Were the cards marked ? ” said a third. “I don’t think so,” replied Tomski, gravely. “ And you mean to say,” exclaimed Naroumoff, “ that you have a grandmother who knows the names of three winning

t)0 mB STRAND magazine. word of honour that he would never after¬ We were maids of honour in the same year wards touch a card as long as he lived and when we were presented, the Empress ” Accordingly Tchaplitzki went to Zoritcii and the old Countess related for the and asked for his revenge. On the first hundredth time an anecdote of her young card he staked fifty thousand roubles He days. Paul,” she said, as she finish^ he? wwoonn, doubled the stake, and won agaTn story, hey me to get up. Lisabeta, where Continuing his system he ended by gaining IS my snuff-box .r' ” j^ more than he had lost. ^^ ^ ^f ^ u o’clock I It is really time by the three maids, she to ^o to bed.” ^ went behind a great screen to finish her br^g®''y°\"® emptied his glass and the party toilet. Tomski was now alone with the companion. CHAPTER II. Who IS the gentleman you wish to in- troduce to madame ? ” asked Lisabeta. The old Countess Anna Fedotovna was in Naroumoff.^ Do you know him ? ” her dressmg-rooni, seated before her looking- INo. Is he in the armv ? ” “Yes.” la rnaids were in attendance. One held her pot of rouge, another a box of “In the Engineers ” wdl,^ uu enemous lace cap, “ No, in the Dorse Guards. Why did with flaming ribbons. The Countess had W^^hmk he was in the Engineers ^ ” no longer the slightest pretence to beauty, Ihe young lady smiled, but made no answer. “ habits of her youth. She dressed in the style of fifty years Paul,” cried the Countess from behind the screen, send me a new novel ; no before, and gave as much time and attention matter what. Only see that it is not in the style of the present day.” to her toilet as a fashionable beauty of the ast century. Her companion was working at a frame in a corner of the window. mmhlr^?” g^and- Crood morning, grandmother,” said the ronm^ °r a’ entered the dressing- npillf \"u *® bero strapgles room Good morning. Mademoiselle LisI whiVh b’® mother, and in whiy no one gets drowned. Nothing fSour\" ’ you a “What is k, Paul ? ” Kned. ’‘^®^ “I want to introduce to you one of mv YYa hook possible to find you such friends and to ask you to gi4 him an invh tation to your ball.” a book Do you want it in Russian ” Are there any novels in Russian .? How- “Bring him to the ball and introduce ever send me something or other. You won’t forget ? ” • wu th“pLTessS” .^ forget, grandmother. I am ma^df Lisabeta. What made you fancy Naroumoff was in the M.demo»lfc Ekliki wa, durminr.\" *' ngmeers. and Tomski took his de¬ parture. rlifflr nephew, you are really not Lisabeta, left alone, took out her em¬ broidery, and sat down close to the window fficult to please. As to beauty, you should £ia?:tro'’\" grandmother, pZfs Immediately afterwards, in the street, ai th D f^fro^a. But she must be very old the corner of a neighbouring house, ap- the Princess Daria Petrovna ! ” ’ How do you mean old.? ” cried Tomct; made the companion blush to her ears. t OTg tlessly ; “ she died seven years ago.” S e lowered her head, and almost concealed rrmaisseedd hheerr \"hifead and m^a®d*'e®'^ a scigonmptoanitohne officer, who then remembered that h P canvas. At this moment the was an understood thing to conceal from ComUess returned, fully dressed. the Princess the death of any of her cmr- temporanes. He bit his lips. The Countess Dut nf'^® “ b'^^'e the horses put 111 we will go out for a drive.” isabeta rose from her chair, and began to arrange her embroidery. hSrinTth'IlV“' ’m ‘^'^‘\"rbed on in th^woi M.''\" '°\"g®t and ItlalmuC^™ to put ’ ^''® beaf.? Go “ the horses in at once.” “ Dead ! ” she said, “ and I never knew it ! 1 am going,” replied the youncr kdv as she went out into the ante-chamblr.

TlIE QUEEN OF SPADEE A -servant now came in, bringing some “ What do yolt know about it ? Open books from Prince Paul Alexandrovitch. the ventilator. Just what I told you ! A “ Say, I am much obliged to him. Lisa- frightful wind, and as icy as can be. Un¬ beta ! Lisabeta ! Where has she run off harness the horses. Lisabeta, my child, we to?” will not go out to-day. It was scarcely “ I was going to dress.” worth while to dress so much.” “ We have plenty of time, my dear. Sit “What an existence!” said the com¬ down, take the first volume, and read to panion to herself. me. Lisbeta Ivanovna was, in fact, a most un¬ The companion took the book and read a few lines. “ Louder,” said the Countess. “ What is the matter with you ? Have you a cold ? Wait a moment, bring me that stool. A little closer ; that will do.” Lisabeta read two pages of the book. “ Throw that stupid book away,” said the Countess. “ What nonsense ! Send it back to Prince Paul, and tell him I am much obliged to him ; and the carriage, is it never coming ? ” u Here it is replied Lisabeta, going to the win¬ dow. “ And now you are not dressed. Why do you al¬ ways keep me waitinsf ? It is intolerable ! ” O Lisabeta ran to her room. She had scarcely been there two minutes when the Count¬ ess rang with all her might. Her maids rushed in at one door and her valet at the other. PAUL AND LISABETA, “ You do not seem to hear me when I ring,” she cried. “ Go and tell Lisabeta that I am waiting for her.” At this moment Lisabeta entered, wearing; happy creature. “ The bread of the stranger a new walking dress and a fashionable bonnet. is bitter,” says Dante, “and his staircase “ At last, miss,” cried the Countess. “ But hard to climb.” But who can tell the tor¬ what is that you have got on ? and why ? ments of a poor little companion attached For whom are you dressing ? What sort of to an old lady of quality ? The Countess weather is it ? Quite stormy, I believe.” had all the caprices of a woman spoilt by the “No, your Excellency,” said the valet ; world. She was avaricious and egotistical, “it is exceedingly fine.” and thought all the more of herself now that /

92 THE STRAND MAGAEINE. she had ceased to play an active part in chain. But the young men, prudent in the society. She never missed a ball, and she midst of their affected giddiness, took care not dressed and painted in the style of a bygone to honour her Avith their attentions ; though age. She remained in a corner of the Lisabeta Ivanovna Avas a hundred times room, where she seemed to have been placed prettier than the shameless or stupid girls expressly to serve as a scarecrow. Every Avhom they surrounded Avith their homage. one on coming in went to her and made More than once she slunk aAvay from the her a low bow, but this ceremony once at splendour of the draAving-room, to shut her¬ an end no one spoke a word to her. She self ^ up alone in her little bed-room, received the whole city at her house, observ¬ furnished Avith an old screen and a pieced ing the strictest etiquette, and never failing carpet, a chest of draAvers, a small looking- to give to everyone his or her proper name. glass, and a Avooden bedstead. There she Her innumerable servants, growing pale and shed tears at her ease, by the light of a fat in the ante-chamber, did absolutely as talloAv (andle in a tin candlestick. they liked, so that the house was One morning— pillaged as if its it Avas tAvo days owner were really after the party at dead. Lisabeta Naroumoff’s, and passed her life in a Aveek before the continual torture. scene Ave have If she made tea just sketched— she was re¬ Lisabeta Avas sit¬ proached with ting at her em¬ wasting the sugar. broidery before If she read a novel the w i n d o Av, to the Countess Avhen, looking she was held re¬ carelessly ipto the sponsible for all street, she saAv an the absurdities of officer, in the the author. If uniform of the she went out with Engineers, stand¬ the noble lady for ing ^ motionless a walk or drive, Avith his eyes fixed it was she who upon her. She was to blame if loAvered her head, the weather Avas and applied her¬ bad or the pave¬ self to her Avork ment muddy. Her more attentively than salary, more than ever. Five minutes modest, was never afterAvards she looked punctually paid, mechanically into the and she Avas ex¬ street, and the officer pected to dress Avas still in the same “ like everyone place. Not being in else that is to say, like the habit of exchanging very feAv people indeed. glances Avith young men When she Avent into who passed by her Avin- THERE SHE SHED TEARS. dow, she remained Avith society her position Avas her eyes fixed on her sad. Everyone kneAv her * Avork for nearly two hours, until she Avas told that lunch Avas no one paid ^ her any attention. At a ready. She got up to put her embroidery ball she sometimes danced, but only Avhen aAvay, and, Avhile doing so, looked into the a vis-d-vis Avas Avanted. Women avouM street, and saAv the officer still in the same come up to her, take her by the arm place, fihis seemed to her very strange. and lead her out of the room if their After lunch she Avent to the window dress required attending to. She had her AAjith a certain emotion, but the officer of portion of self-respect, and felt deeply the Engineers Avas no longer in the street. misery of her position. She looked Avith impatience for a liberator to break her She thought no more of him. But tAv^o days

THE QUEEN OF SPADES, 93 afterwards, just as she was getting into the rapid changes of the game. The anecdote carriage with the Countess, she saw him once of Count St. Germain’s three cards had more, standing straight before the door. His struck his imagination, and he did nothing face was half concealed by a fur collar, but his but think of it all that night. black eyes sparkled beneath his helmet. “If,” he said to himself next day as he Lisabeta was afraid, without knowing why, Avas Avalking along the streets of St. Peters¬ burg, “ if she Avould only tell me her secret and she trembled as she took her seat in the —if she Avould only name the three Avinning carriage. cards ! I must get presented to her, that I may pay my court and gain her confidence. On returning home, she rushed with a Yes ! And she is eighty-seven ! She may beating heart towards the window. The die this AA^eek—to-morroAv perhaps. But officer was in his habitual place, with his after all, is there a Avord of truth in the eyes fixed ardently upon her. She at once story? No! Economy, Temperance, Work ; these are my three Avinning cards. With withdrew, burning at the same time Avith them I can double my capital ; increase it curiosity, and moved by a strange feeling, tenfold. They alone can ensure my indC' pendence and prosperity.” Avhich she noAV experienced for the first time. Dreaming in this Avay as he Avalked along, his attention Avas attracted by a house built No day now passed but the young officer in an antiquated style of architecture. The street AA^as full of carriages, AAffiich passed shoAved himself beneath the AAundoAA\". one by one before the old house, noAA^ Before long a dumb acquaintance AA^as brilliantly illuminated. As the people established betAveen them. Sitting at her stepped out of the carriages Hermann saAv noAV the little feet of a young Avoman, nOAv Avork she felt his presence, and AAffien she the military boot of a general. Then came raised her head she looked at him for a a clocked stocking ; then, again, a diplo¬ long time every day. The young man matic pump. Fur-lined cloaks and coats passed in procession before a gigantic seemed full of gratitude for these innocent porter. favours. Hermann stopped. “ Who lives here ? ” he said to a Avatchman in his box. She observed, Avith the deep and rapid perceptions of youth, that a sudden redness “The Countess Anna Fedotovna.” It covered the officer’s pale cheeks as soon as AA^as Tomski’s grandmother. their eyes met. After about a AA’^eek she Avould smile at seeing him for the first Hermann started. The story of the three time. cards came once more upon his imagination. He Avalked to and fro before the house, When Tomski asked his grandmother’s thinking of the Avoman to Avhom it belonged, permission to present one of his friends, the of her Avealth and her mysterious poAver. heart of the poor young girl beat strongly, At last he returned to his den. But for and AAffien she heard that it Avas Naroumoff, some time he could not get to sleep ; and she bitterly repented having compromised Avhen at last sleep came upon him, he saAAq her secret by letting it out to a giddy young dancing before his eyes, cards, a green table, man like Paul. and heaps of roubles and bank-notes. He saAV himself doubling stake after stake, Hermann was the son of a German settled always Avinning, and then filling his pockets^ in Russia, from Avhom he had inherited a Avith piles of coin, and stuffing his pocket- small sum of money. Firmly resolved to book Avith countless bank-notes. When he preserve his independence, he had made it aAvoke, he sighed to find that his treasures a principle not to touch his private income. Avere but creations of a disordered fancy ; He lived on his pay, and did not alloAv him¬ and, to drive such thoughts from him, he self the slightest luxury. He Avas not very Avent out for a AA^alk. But he had not gone far communicative ; and his reserve rendered Avhen he found himself once more before the it difficult for his comrades to amuse them¬ house of the Countess. He seemed to have selves at his expense. been attracted there by some irresistible force. He stopped, and looked up at the Under an assumed calm he concealed windoAvs. There he saAV a girl’s head Avith strong passions and a highly-imaginative beautiful black hair, leaning gracefully over. disposition. But he AA^as ahvays master of himself, and kept himself free from the ordinary faults of young men. Thus, a gambler by temperament, he never touched a card, feeling, as he himself said, that his position did not alloAV him to “ risk the necessary in vieAv of the superfluous.” Yet he AA^ould pass entire nights before a card- table, AA^atching AAuth feverish anxiety the

THE STEAHD MAGAZINE. Lisabeta now gav^e tl . niost absurd answers, an : ’'vas accordingly scolded b J the Countess, s What is the matter wit you, my child ? ” she asked. “ AVhat ar you thinking about ? Or do you really nc hear me I speak distinctly enough, how HERMANN SAW THE LITTLE FEET.” hl^e I M’ ”>' '’®ac crobwf®? listening. When sh, wlThYted ? ®\"?'’’'°‘‘^ery-frame. The head got back to the house she ran to her room and black’eres ““Pkxion locked the door, and took the scrap of papei This moment decided his fate. from her glove. It was not sealed,^ anc It was impossible, therefore, not to read it, he letter contained protestations of love CHAPTER III. wor'ilL '■®\"P®®y“l- =ind translated Lisabeta was just taking off her shawl and lord for word from a German novel. But Shp h° Countess sent for her isabeta did not read German, and she was quite delighted. She was, however While two footmen were helping the old her life she had a secret. Correspond with lady into the carriage, LisabeU fa,/ti e young officer at her side. She felt him f •' ■T''® 'dea of such a thing take her by the hand, lost her head and ten ™P™dent she had been . She had reproached herself, but knew not now what to do. glove ' h^tily concealed it in her Cease to do her work at the window, and by persistent coldness try and disgust the During the whole of the drive she neither Answer him in a firm, decided manner ? saw nor heard. When they were in the carriage together the Countess was in he <?t,^ i! i\"® conduct was she to pursue ? She had no friend, no one to advise hen perpetuallyc e at last decided to send an answer. She WhaTk rh' to us sat down at her little table, took pen and hat IS the name of this bridge ? What is paper, and began to think. More thL once she wiote a sentence and then tore up thq there written on that signboard ? ”

THE QUEEN OF SPADES. 95 paper. What she had written seemed too picking it up, entered a confectioner’s shop stiff, or else it was wanting in reserve. At in order to read it. Finding nothing dis¬ last, after much trouble, she succeeded in couraging in it, he went home sufficiently composing a few lines which seemed to pleased with the first step in his love ad¬ meet the case. “ I believe,” she wrote, venture. “that your intentions are those of an honour¬ able man, and that you would not wish to Some days afterwards, a young person offend me by any thoughtless conduct. But with lively eyes called to see Miss Lisabeta, you must understand that our acquaintance on the part of a milliner. Lisabeta won¬ dered what she could want, and suspected, SHE TORE IT INTO A HUNDRED PIECES as she received her, some secret intention. She was much surprised, however, when cannot begin in this way. I return your she recognised, on the letter that was now letter, and trust that you will not give me handed to her, the writing of Hermann. cause to regret my imprudence.” “ You make a mistake,” she said, Next day as soon as Hermann made his “ this letter is not for me.” appearance, Lisabeta left her embroidery, and went into the drawing-room, opened “ I beg your pardon,” said the the ventilator, and threw her letter into milliner, with a slight smile ; “ be the street, making sure that the young kind enough to read it.” officer would pick it up. Lisabeta glanced at it. Hermann Hermann, in fact, at once saw it, and, was asking for an appointment. “ Impossible ! ” she cried, alarmed both at. the boldness of the request, and at the manner in which it was made. “ This letter is not for me,” she repeated ; and she tore it into a hundred pieces. “ If the letter was not for you, why did you tear it up? You should have given it me back, that I might take it to the person it was meant for.” “ True,” said Lisabeta, quite disconcerted. “ But bring me no more. letters, and tell the person who gave you this one that he ought to blush for his conduct.” Hermann, however, was not a man to give up what he had once undertaken. Every day Lisabeta received a fresh letter from him, —sent now in one way, now in another. They were no longer translated from the German. Hermann wrote under the influence of a commanding passion, and spoke a language which was his own. Lisabeta could not hold out against such torrents of eloquence. She received the letters, kept them, and at last answered them. Every day her answers were longer and more affectionate, until at last she threw out of the window a letter couched as follows :— “ This evening there is a ball at the Embassy. The Countess will be there. We shall remain until two in the morning. You may manage to see me alone. As soon as the Countess leaves home, that is to say towards eleven o’clock, the servants are sure to go out, and there will be no one left but the porter, who wil) be sure to

96 THE STRAND MAGAZINE, be asleep in his box. Enter as soon as it the street door, and went into the vestibule strikes eleven, and go upstairs as fast as Avhich Avas well lighted. As it happened possible. If you find anyone in the ante¬ the porter Avas not there. With a firm and chamber, ask whether the Countess is at rapid step he rushed up the staircase and home, and you will be told that she is out, reached the ante-chamber. There, before a and, in that case, you must resign yourself lamp, a footman Avas sleeping, stretched out and go away. In all probability, however! you will meet no one. The Countess’s m a dirty greasy dressing-gown. Hermann women are together in a distant room. passed quickly before him and crossed the When you are once in the ante-chamber dining-room and the draAving-room, Avhere turn to the left, and walk straight on, until there Avas no light But the lamp of the you reach the Countess’s bedroom. There ante-chamber helped him to see. At last behind a large screen, you will see two he reached the Countess’s bedroom. Before doors. The one on the right kads to ^a dark room. The one on the left leads to a corridor, at the end of which is a little winding staircase, which leads to mv par¬ lour.” ^ At ten o’clock Hermann was already on duty before the Countess’s door. It was a frightful night. The winds had been unloosed, and the snow was falling in large flakes ; the lamps gave an uncertain light ; the streets were deserted ; from time to time passed a sleigh, drawn by a wretched hack, on the look-out for a fare. Covered by a thick overcoat, Her¬ mann felt neither the wind nor the snow. At last the Countess’s carriage drew up. He saw two huge footmen come forward and take be¬ neath the arms a dilapidated spectre, and place it on the cushions, well wrapped up in an enormous fur cloak. Immediately afterwards, in a cloak of lighter make, her head crowned with natural flowers,^ came Lisabeta, who sprang into the carriage like a dart. The door was closed, and the carriage rolled on A FOOTMAN IN A GREASY DRESSING GOWN,” softly over the snow. 3. screen covered Avith old icons [sacn pictures] a golden lamp AA^as burning. G] The porter closed the street door, and arm-chairs, sofas of faded colours, furnishe soon the windows of the first floor became Avith soft cushions, Avere arranged symm ^rk. Silence reigned throughout the house. tiically along the Avails, Avhich Avere hur Hermann walked backAvards and forwards • Avith China silk. He saAv tAvo large po; then coming to a lamp he looked at his traits, painted by Madame le Brim. Oi represented a man of forty, stout and fr watch. It was twenty minutes to eleven. coloured, dressed in a light green coa Leaning against the lamp-post, his eyes Avith a decoration on his breast. T1 fixed on^ the long hand of his Avatch, he second portrait Avas that of an elegant your counted impatiently the minutes Avhich had \\voman, Avith an aquiline nose, poAvdeye ^t to pass. At eleven o’clock precisely •riGrruann, Ayalked up the steps, ppshed open

THE QUEEN OF SPADES. 97 hair rolled back on the temples, and with a rose over her ear. Everywhere might be seen shepherds and shepherdesses in Dresden china, with vases of all shapes, clocks by Leroy, Avork- baskets, fans, and all the thousand playthings for the use of ladies of fashion, dis¬ covered in the last century, at the time of Mont¬ golfier’s balloons and Mesmer’s animal magnetism. Hermann passed behind the screen, Avhich concealed a little iron bedstead. He saAv the two doors ; the one on the right leading to the dark room, the one on the left to the corridor. “a strange man had appeared.” He opened the latter, saAv the staircase which led to the poor little com¬ Avinding staircase. For a moment he felt panion’s parlour, and then, closing this door, something like remorse ; but it soon passed went into the dark room. off, and his heart AA^as once more of stone. The time passed slowly. Everything Avas quiet in the house. The draAving-room The Countess began to undress before a clock struck midnight, and again there Avas looking-glass. Her head-dress of roses Avas silence. Hermann was standing up, leaning taken off, and her poAvdered AAog separated against the stove, in Avhich there Avas no from her OAvn hair, AATich AA^as very short and fire. He Avas calm_ ; but his heart beat Avith quite Avhite. Pins fell in shoAvers around quick pulsations, like that of a man deter¬ her. At last she Avas in her dressing-gOAvn mined to brave all dangers he might have and her night-cap, and in this costume, to meet, because he knoAvs them to be in¬ more suitable to her age, Avas less hideous evitable. He heard one o’clock strike 5 than before. then tAvo ; and soon afterwards the distant roll of a carriage. He noAv, in spite of him¬ Like most old people, the Countess was self, _ experienced some emotion. The tormented by sleeplessness. She had her ^rriage approached rapidly and stopped. armchair rolled tOAvards one of the AvindoAvs, Theie was at once a great noise of servants and told her maids to leave her. The lights running about the staircases, and a con¬ were put out, and the room Avas lighted fusion of voices. Suddenly the rooms Avere only by the lamp Avhich burned before the all lit up,^ and the Countess’s three anti¬ holy images. The Countess, salloAV and quated maids came at once into the bed¬ Avrinkled, balanced herself gently from right room. At last appeared the Countess her¬ to left. In her dull eyes could be read self. an utter absence of thought ; and as she moved from side to side, one might have The Avalking mummy sank into a large said that she did so not by any action of Voltaire arm-chair. Hermann looked the AA^ill, but through some secret mechan¬ through the crack in the door ; he saAv ism. Lisabeta pass close to him, and heard her hurried step as she Avent up the little Suddenly this death’s-head assumed a neAv expression ; the lips ceased to trembly,

98 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. and the eyes became alive. A strange “one glance showed her that he was not there.* man had appeared before the Countess ! The old Countess answered not a Word. It was Hermann. Hermann rose, and drew a pistol from “Do not be alarmed, madam,” said Her¬ his pocket. mann, in a low voice, but very distinctly. “ Hag ! ” he exclaimed, “ I will make you “ For the love of Heaven, do not be alarmed. speak.” At the sight of the pistol the Countess I do not wish to do you the slightest harm ; for the second time showed agitation. Her head shook violently ; she stretched out on the contrary, I come to implore a favour her hands as if to put the weapon aside. of you.” Then suddenly she fell back motionless. “ Come, don’t be childish ! ” said Her¬ The old woman looked at him in silence, mann. “ I adjure you for the last time ; as if sh-e did not understand. Thinking she will you name the three cards ? ” was deaf, he leaned towards her ear and The Countess did not answer. Hermann repeated what he had said ; but the saw that she was dead ! Countess still remained silent. CHAPTER IV. “You can ensure the happiness of my whole life, and without its costing you Lisabeta was sitting in her room, a farthing. I know that you can name to still in her ball dress, lost in the me three cards—” deepest meditation. On her return to the house, she had sent away her maid, and The Countess now understood what he had gone upstairs to her room, trembling required. at the idea of finding Hermann there ; desiring, indeed, not to find him. One glance “It was a joke,” she interrupted. “I showed her that he was not there, and she swear to you it was only a joke.” “ No, madam,” replied Hermann in an angry tone. “ Remember Tchaplitzki, and how you enabled him to win.” The Countess was agitated. For a moment her features expressed strong emotion ; but they soon resumed their former dulness. “ Cannot you name to me,” said Her¬ mann, “ three winning cards ? ” The Countess remained silent. “ Why keep this secret for your great-grandchil¬ dren,” he continued. “ They are rich enough without; they do not know the value of money. Of what profit would your three cards be to them ? They are debauchees. The man who cannot keep his inheritance will die in want, though he had the science of demons at his command. I am a steady man. I know the value of money. Your three cards will not be lost upon me. Come ! ” He stopped tremblingly, awaiting a reply. The Countess did not utter a word. Hermann went upon his knees. “ If your heart has ever known the passion of love ; if you can remember its sweet ecstasies; if you have ever been touched by the cry of a new-born babe ; if any human feeling has ever caused your heart to beat, I entreat you by the love of a husband, a lover, a mother, by all that is sacred in life, not to reject my prayer. Tell me your secret! Reflect! You are old ; you have not long to live ! Remember that the happiness of a man is in your hands ; that not only myself, but my child¬ ren and my grandchildren will bless your memory as a saint.”

THE QUEEN OF SPADES. 99 gave thanks to Providence that he had which were so happy that Lisabeta thought missed the appointment. She sat down her secret must have been discovered. pensively, without thinking of taking off her cloak, and allowed to pass through her “ But who tells you all this ? ” she said memory all the circumstances of the intrigue with a smile. which had begun such a short time back, and had already advanced so far. Scarcely “ A friend of the very officer you know, three weeks had passed since she had first a most original man.” seen the young officer from her window, and already she had written to him, and he “ And who is this man that is so original ? ” had succeeded in inducing her to make an “ His name is Hermann.” appointment. She knew his name, and that She answered nothing, but her hands was all. She had received a quantity of and feet seemed to be of ice. letters from him, but he had never spoken “ Hermann is a hero of romance,” con¬ tinued Tomski. He has the profile of THE DOOR OPENED AND HERMANN ENTERED.” Napoleon, and the soul of Mephistopheles. I believe he has at least three crimes on his to her ; she did not know the sound of his ^ conscience. . . . But voice, and until that evening, strangely enough, she had never heard him spoken of. how pale you are ! ” ‘‘ I have a bad head¬ But that very evening Tomski, fancying he had noticed that the young Princess ache. But what did Pauline, to whom he had been paying assiduous court, was flirting, contrary to I this Mr. Hermann tell her custom, with another man, had wished to revenge himself by making a I you ? Is not that his show of indifference. With this noble I name ? ’ object he had invited Lisabeta to take part I “ Hermann is very in an interminable mazurka ; but he teased her immensely about her partiality for much displeased with Engineer officers, and pretending all the his friend.; with the time to know much more than he really Engineer officer who has did, hazarded purely in fun a few guesses made your acquaintance. He says that in his place he would behave very differ- ently. But I am quite sure i that Hermann himself has designs upon you. At least, , he seems to listen with re¬ markable interest to all that his friend tells him about you.” “ And where has he seen me ? ” “ Perhaps in church, perhaps in the street; heaven knows where.” At this moment three ladies came forward according to the custom of the mazurka, and asked Tomski to choose between “ forgetfulness and regret.’”*' And the conversation which had so pain¬ fully excited the curiosity of Lisabeta came to an end. The lady who, in virtue of the infidelities permitted by the mazurka, had just been chosen by Tomski, was the Princess Pauline. During the rapid evolutions which the figure obliged them to make, there was a grand explanation between them, until at last he conducted her to a chair, and re¬ turned to his partner. But Tomski could now think no more, either of Hermann or Lisabeta, and he tried in vain to resume the conversation. But the mazurka was coming to an end, and *The figures and fashions of the mazurka are reproduced in the cotillon of Western Europe.— Translator.

100 THE STRAND MAGAZINE, immediately afterwards the old Countess window, his arms crossed, with a frown on his forehead. In this attitude he reminded rose to go. her involuntarily of the portrait of Napoleon. Tomski’s mysterious phrases were nothing The resemblance overwhelmed her. more than the usual platitudes of the “ How am I to get you away ? ” she said mazurka, but they had made, a deep at last. “ I thought you might go out by impression upon the heart of the poor little the back stairs. But it would be necessary companion. The portrait sketched by to go through the Countess’s bedroom, and Tomski had struck her as very exact ; and I am too frightened.” with her romantic ideas, she saw in the rather ordinary countenance of her adorer “ Tell me how to get to the staircase, and something to fear and admire. She was I will go alone.” now sitting down with her cloak off, with bare shoulders ; her head, crowned with She went to a drawer, took out a key, flowers, falling forward from fatigue, when which she handed to Hermann, and gave suddenly the door opened and Hermann him the necessary instructions. Hermann entered. She shuddered. took her icy hand, kissed her on the fore¬ head, and departed. “ Where were you ? ” she said, trembling all over. He went down the staircase, and entered the Countess’s bedroom. She was seated “ In the Countess’s bedroom. I have quite stiff in her armchair ; but her iust left her,” replied Hermann. “ She is features were in no way contracted. He dead.” stopped for a moment, and gazed into her face as if to make sure of the terrible reality. “ Great heavens! What are you saying ? ” Then he entered the dark room, and, feeling “ I am afraid,” he said, “ that I am the behind the tapestry, found the little door cause of her death.” which opened on to a staircase. As he Lisabeta looked at him in consternation, went down it, strange ideas bam.e into his and remembered Tomski’s words : “ He head. “ Going down this staircase,” he has at least three crimes on his conscience.” said to himself, “ some sixty years ago, at Hermann sat down by the window, and about this time, may have been seen some told everything. The young girl listened man in an embroidered coat with powdered with terror. wig, pressing to his breast a cocked hat : So those letters so full of passion, those some gallant who has long been buried ; burning expressions, this daring obstinate and now the heart of his aged mistress has pursuit—all this had been inspired by ceased to beat.” anything but love ! Money alone had inflamed the man’s soul. She, who had At the end of, the staircase he found nothing but a heart to offer, how could she another door, which his key opened, and he make him happy ? Poor child ! she had found himself in the corridor which led to been the blind instrument of a robber, of the street. the murderer of her old benefactress. She wept bitterly in the agony of her repent¬ CHAPTER V. ance. Hermann watched her in silence ; but neither the tears of the unhappy girl, Three days after this fatal night, at nine nor her beauty, rendered more touching by o’clock in the morning, Hermann entered her grief, could move his heart of iron. the convent where the last respects were He had no remorse in thinking of the to be paid to the mortal remains of the old Countess’s death. One sole thought dis¬ Countess. He felt no remorse, though he tressed »him—the irreparable loss of the could not deny to himself that he was the secret which was to have made his fortune. poor v/oman’s assassin. Having no religion, “You are a monster!” said Lisabeta, he was, as usual in such cases, very super¬ after a long silence. stitious ; believing that the dead Countess “ I did not mean to kill her,” replied might exercise a malignant influence on Hermann coldly. “ My pistol was not his life, he thought to appease her spirit by loaded.” attending her funeral. They remained for some time without speaking, without looking at one another. The church was full of people, and it The day was breaking, and Lisabeta put was difficult to get in. The body had been out her candle. She wiped her eyes, placed on a rich catafalque, beneath a drowned in tears, and raised them towards canopy of velvet. The Countess was Hermann. He was standing close to the reposing in an open coffin, her hands joined on her breast, with a dress of white satin, and head-dress of lace. Around the

THE QUEEN OF SPADES. 101 catafalque the family was assembled, the staring at him ; andAvith a mocking look she servants in black caftans with a knot of opened and shut one eye. Hermann by a ribbons on the shoulder, exhibiting the sudden movement started and fell back- colours of the Countess’s coat of arms. Avards. Several persons hurried towards Each of them held a Avax candle in his him. At the same moment, close to the hand. The relations, in deep mourning— church door, Lisabeta fainted. children, grandchildren, and great-grand¬ children—were all present ; but none of Throughout the day, Hermann suffered them Avept. from a strange indisposition. In a quiet To haA^e shed tears Avould have looked restaurant, where he took his meals, he, like affectation. The Countess Avas so old contrary to his habit, drank a great deal of that her death could have taken no one by Avine, Avith the object of stupefying himself. surprise, and she But the wine had no effect had long been I ,1 but to excite his imagina- looked upon as b tion, and give fresh activ¬ already out of the ity to the ideas with which Avorld. The fune¬ he AA^as preoccupied. ral sermon Avas de¬ He Avent home earlier livered by a cele¬ than usual ; lay brated preacher. down Avith his In a fcAV simple, clothes on upon touching phrases the bed, and fell he painted the into a leaden sleep. final departure of When he Avoke up the just, Avho had it Avas night, and passed long years the room was of contrite prepara¬ lighted up by the tion for a Chris¬ rays of the moon. tian end. The He looked at his ser\\dce concluded watch ; it was a in the midst of quarter to three. respectful silence. He could sleep no Then the relations more. He sat up Avent toAvards the on the bed and defunct to take a thought of the old last fareAvell. After Countess. At this them, in a long moment someone procession, all aaTo in the street passed had been invited the AvindoAV, looked into the to the ceremony room, and then Avent on. bowed, for the last Hermann scarcely noticed time, to her Avho it ; but in another minute for so many years he heard the door of the had been a scare- ante - chamber open. He croAV at their enter¬ thoughtHERMANN STARTED AND FELL BACKWARDS.” that his orderly, tainments. Finally drunk as usual, Avas returning came the Countess’s household ; among from some nocturnal excursion ; but the them Avas remarked an old governess, of the step Avas one to Avhich he Avas not accus¬ same age as the deceased, supported by two tomed. Somebody seemed to be softly Avomen. She had not strength enough to AA'alking over the floor in slippers. kneel down, but tears flowed from her eyes, The door opened, and a Avoman, dressed as she kissed the hand of her old mistress. entirely in Avhite, entered the bedroom. Her¬ In his turn Hermann advanced toAvards mann thought it must be his old nurse, and the coffin. He knelt doAvn for a moment he asked himself Avhat she could want at on the flagstones, which Avere strcAved Avith that time of night. branches of ycAV. Then he rose, as pale as But the Avoman in Avhite, crossing the death, and Avalked up the steps of the room with a rapid step, was noAV at the catafalque. He boAved his head. But foot of his bed, and Hermann recognised the suddenly the dead woman seemed to be Countess.

102 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. “ I come to you against my wish,” she The door of the ante - chamber was said in a firm voice. “I am forced to grant locked. your prayer. Three, seven, ace, will win, if played one after the other ; but you must Hermann went back to his bedroom, and wrote down all the details of his vision. CHAPTER VI. “ THREE) SEVEN, ACE.* Two fixed ideas can no more exist together in the moral world than in the physical not play more than one card in twenty-four two bodies can occupy the same place hours, and afterwards as long as you live at the same time ; and “ Three, seven, you must never touch a card again. I ace ” soon drove away Hermann’s recollec¬ forgive you my death, on condition of tion of the old Countess’s last moments. your marrying my companion, Lisabeta ‘• Three, seven, ace ” were now in his head Ivanovna.” to the exclusion of everything else. With these words she walked towards the They followed him in his dreams, and door, and gliding with her slippers over the appeared to him under strange forms. floor, disappeared. Hermann heard the door Threes seemed to be spread before him like of the ante-chamber open, and soon after¬ magnolias, sevens took the form of Gothic wards saw a white figure pass along the doors, and aces became gigantic spiders. street. It stopped for a moment before his window, as if to look at him. His thoughts concentrated themselves on one single point. How was he to profit by Hermann remained for some time as¬ the secret so dearly purchased ? What if tounded. Then he got up and went into he applied for leave to travel ? Ac Paris, the next room. His orderly, drunk as he said to himself, he Avould find some usual, was asleep on the floor. He had much gambling-house where, with his three cards, difficulty in waking him, and then could he could at oilce make his fortune. not obtain from him the least explanation. Chance soon came to his assistance. There was at Moscow a society of rich gamblers, presided over by the celebrated Tchek- alinski, who had passed all his life playing at cards, and had amassed millions. For while he lost silver only, he gained bank-notes. His magnificent house, his excellent kitchen, his cordial manners, had brought him numerous friends and secured for him general esteem. When he came to St. Petersburg, the young men of the capital filled his rooms, forsaking balls for his card-parties, and pre¬ ferring the emotions of gambling to the fascinations of flirting. Hermann was taken to Tchekalinski by Naroumoff. They passed through a long suite of rooms, full of the most attentive, obsequious servants. The place was crowded. Generals and high officials were playing at whist ; young men were stretched out on the sofas, eating ices and smoking long pipes. In the principal room at the head of a long table, around which were assembled a score of players, the master of the house held a faro bank. He was a man of about sixty, with a sweet and noble expression of face, and hair white as snow. On his full, florid counte¬ nance might be read good humour and benevolence. His eyes shone with a per¬ petual smile. Naroumoff introduced Her¬ mann. Tchekalinski took him by the

THE QUEEN OE SPADES. icV hand, told him that he was glad to see him, “ I win,” said Hermann, exhibiting his that no one stood on ceremony in his three. house ; and then went on dealing. The deal occupied some time, and stakes were A murmur of astonishment ran through made on more than thirty cards. Tchek- the assembly. The banker knitted his alinski waited patiently to allow the winners eyebrows, but speedily his face resumed its time to double their stakes, paid what he everlasting smile. had lost, listened politely to all observa¬ tions, and, more politely still, put straight “ Shall I settle at once ? ” he asked. the corners of cards, when in a fit of absence “ If you will be kind enough to do so,” some one had taken the liberty of turning said Hermann. them down. At last when the game was Tehekalinski took a bundle of bank-notes at an end, Tchekalinski collected the cards, from his pocket-book, and paid. Hermann shuffled them again, had them cut, and then poeketed his winnings and left the table. dealt anew. Naroumoff was lost in astonishment. Hermann drank a glass of lemonade and “ Will you allow me to take a card ? ” went home. said Hermann, stretching out his arm above a fat man who occupied nearly the whole The next evening he returned to the of one side of the table. Tchekalinski, with a gracious smile, bowed in consent. house. Tchekalinski again held the bank. Naroumoff complimented Hermann, with a laugh, on the cessation of the austerity by Hermann went to the table, and this time which his conduct had hitherto been marked, and wished him all kinds of happi¬ the players hastened to make room for him. ness on the occasion of his first appearance in the character of a gambler. Tchekalinski received him with a most “ There ! ” said Hermann, after writing gracious bow. Hermann waited, took a some figures on the back of his card. card, and staked on it his forty-seven thou¬ “ How much ? ” asked the banker, half closing his eyes. “ Excuse me, I cannot sand roubles, together with the like sum see.” which he had gained the evening before. “ Forty-seven thousand roubles,” said Hermann. Tchekalinski began to deal. He turned Every one’s eyes were directed toward the up on the right a knave, and on the left a new player. seven. ’ “ He has lost his head,” thought Naroumoff. Hermann exhibited a seven. “ Allow me to point out to you,” said There was a general exclamation. Tchekalinski, with his eternal smile, “ that you are playing rather high. We never Tchekalinski was evidently ill at ease, but put down here, as a first stake, more than a hundred and seventy-five roubles.” he counted out the ninety-four thousand “ Very well,” said Hermann ; “ but do roubles to Hermann, who took them in the you accept my stake or not ? ” calmest manner, rose from the table, and Tchekalinski bowed in token of accepta¬ tion. “ I only wish to point out to you,” went away. he said, “ that although I am perfectly sure of my friends, I can only play against ready The next evening, at the accustomed money. I am quite convinced that your hour, he again appeared. Everyone was word is as good as gold ; but to keepmp expecting him. Generals and high officials tlie rules of the game, and to facilitate cal¬ had left their whist to watch this extra¬ culations, I should be obliged to you if you ordinary play. The young officers had would put the money on your card.” quitted their sofas, and even the servants of the house pressed round the table. Hermann took a bank-note from his pocket and handed it to Tchekalinski, who, When Hermann took his seat, the other after examining it with a glance, placed it players ceased to stake, so impatient were on Hermann’s card. they to see him have it out with the banker, who, still smiling, watched the apprcfach Then he began to deal. He turned up on of his antagonist and prepared to meet him. the right a ten, and on the left a three. ' Each of them untied at the same time a pack of cards. Tchekalinski shuffled, and llermann cut. Then the latter took up a card and covered it Avith a lieap of bank¬ notes. It was like the preliminaries of a duel. A deep silence reigned through the room. Tchekalinski took up the cards with trembling hands and dealt. On one side he put down a queen and on the other side an ace. “ Ace wins,” said Hermann.

154 THE STHANH MAGAZINE. “ No. Queen loses,” said Tchekalinski. queen of spades resembled the dead Coun¬ Hermann looked. Instead of ace, he tess ! saw a queen of spades before him. He could not trust his eyes ! And now as he Hermann is now at the Oboukhoff gazed, in fascination, on the fatal card, Asylum, room No. 17 - a hopeless he fancied that he saw the queen of spades madman ! He answers no questions which open and then close her eye, while at the we put to him. Only he mumbles to himself same time she gave a mocking smile. He without cessation, “ Three, seven, ace; felt a thrill of nameless horror. The three, seven, queen ! ”

The Two Genies, A Story for Children ; from the French of Voltaire. EBONY AND TOPAZ. Princess of Cashmere at the great fair at Cabul, VERY one in the province of which is the most impor¬ Candahar knows the adven¬ tant fair in the whole tures of young Rustem. He world. And this was the was the only son of a Mirza reason why the old Prince of that country—or, as we of Cashmere had brought might say, a lord. His father, his daughter to the fair. He had lost the two most the Mirza, had a good estate. Rustem was precious objects in his to be-married to the daughter of a Mirza treasury : one was a dia¬ of his own rank, as both families ardently mond as big as my thumb, desired. He was intended to be the com¬ on which, by an art then fort of his parents, to make his wife happy, known to the Indians, and to be happy with her. but now forgotten, a por¬ trait of his daughter was But, unfortunately, he had seen the engraved ; the other was a javelin, which of its own accord would strike whatever mark the owner wished. A fakir in his Highness’s train had stolen these treasures, and carried them to the Princess. “ Take the greatest care of these two things,” said he; “your fate depends upon them.” Then he went away, and was seen no more. The Prince of Cashmere, in great despair, determined to travel to the fair at Cabul, to see whether among all the merchants who collected there from the four quarters of the earth, there might not be one who had his diamond or his weapon. He took

lo6 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. his daughter with him wherever he went, he leave two families in despair, and cut and she carried the diamond safe in her his parents to the heart ? He shook girdle ; but as for the javelin, which she Rustem’s purpose ; but Ebony once more could not conveniently hide, she left it in confirmed it, and removed his scruples. Cashmere, safely locked up in a large Chinese chest. The young man had not money enough for so long a journey. Wise Topaz would At Cabul she and Rustem saw each have refused to get it for him. Ebony other, and they fell in love with all the provided it. He quietly stole his master’s ardour of their nation. As a love-token the diamond, and had a false one made exactly Priticess gave him the diamond ; and, at like it, which he put in its place, pledging parting, Rustem promised to go to see her the real one to an Armenian for many secretly in Cashmere. thousands of rupees. The young Mirza had two favourite As soon as Rustem had the rupees he attendants who served him as secretaries, stewards, and body-servants. One was named Topaz ; he was handsome and well- made, as fair as a Cir¬ cassian beauty, as gentle and obliging as an Armenian, and as wise as a Parsee. The other was called Ebony, a good-looking ne¬ gro, more active and more indus¬ trious than Topaz, and who never made objections. To them he spoke about his journey. Topaz tried to dis¬ “ AN El EPHANT WAS LOADED WITH HIS BAGGAGE.\" was ready to start. An elephant was loaded with his baggage, and suade him, with the cautious zeal of a they set out on horseback. servant who is anxious not to offend, and reminded him of all the risks. How could “ I took the liberty,” said Topaz to his master, “of remonstrating against your enterprise ; but after speaking it was my duty to obey. I am your slave. I love you, and will follow you to the end of the world. But let us consult the oracle which is on our way.” Rustem agreed. The answer of the oracle was this : “ If you turn to the east you will

THE TWO GENIES. 107 turn to the west.” Rustem could not under¬ his horses, his favourite negro, and the sage stand this. Topaz maintained that it boded Topaz, for whom he had always had a no good ; Ebony, always accommodating, regard, though he did not always agree with persuaded him that it was very favourable. his opinion. There was yet another oracle in Cabul, He was comforting himself with the hope which they consulted also. The Cabul oracle of soon finding himself at the feet of the replied as follows : “If you possess you will beautiful Princess of Cashmere, when he not possess ; if you get the best of it, you will met a fine striped ass, which a vigorous get the worst ; if you are Rustem you will peasant was beating violently with a stick. not be Rustem.” This saying seemed still There is nothing rarer, swifter, or more more incomprehensible than the other. beautiful than an ass of this kind. This one retorted on the rustic for his thrashing by “ Beware,” said Topaz. kicks which might have uprooted an oak. “ Fear nothing,” said Ebony. And he, The young Mirza very naturally took the as may be supposed, seemed to his master to be always in the THE ASS RETORTED BY KICKS. right, since he encour¬ aged his passion and ass’s part, for it was a beautiful beast. The his hopes. peasant ran off, crying out to the ass : “I On leaving Cabul will pay you out yet ! ” The ass thanked they marched through its liberator after its fashion, went up to a great forest. Here him, fawned on him, and received his they sat down on the caresses. grass to eat, while the horses were turned Having dined, Rustem mounted him, and loose to feed. They took the road to Cashmere with his servants, were about to unload some on foot and some riding the elephant. the elephant, which carried the dinner and Hardly had he mounted his ass, when the the service, when it animal turned towards Cabul, instead of was discovered that proceeding on the Avay to Cashmere. In vain Topaz and Ebony were his rider tugged at the bridle, jerked at the no longer with the bit, squeezed his ribs with his knees, drove party. They called the spurs into his flanks, gave him his head, them loudly ; the forest echoed with the names of Topaz and Ebony; the men sought them in every direction and filled the woods with their shouts, but they came back having seen no one and heard no answer. “We saw no¬ thing,” they said to Rustem, “ but a vulture fighting with an eagle and plucking out all its feathers.” The history of this struggle excited Rustem’s curiosity ; he went to the spot on foot. He saw no vulture or eagle, but he found that his elephant, still loaded with baggage, had been attacked by a huge rhinoceros. One was fighting with his horn, the other with his trunk. On seeing Rustem the rhinoceros retreated, and the elephant was led back. But now the horses were gone. “ Strange things happen to travellers in the forest! ” exclaimed Rus¬ tem. The servants were dismayed, and their master was in despair at having lost

io8 THE STRAND MAGAZINE. pulled him up, whipped him right and left. me to return to my own country, where The obstinate beast still made direct for I should be only a private gentleman. Cabul. He means me to marry the Princess. I shall be Prince of Cashmere. In that Rustem was growing desperate, when he way, when I possess my Princess, I shall met a camel-driver, who said to him— not possess my humble rank in Canda- har ; I shall be Rustem, and I shall not, “You have a very stubborn ass there, since I shall be a great prince. There master, which insists on carrying you where is a great deal of the oracle interpreted in you do not want to go. If you will let me my favour. The rest will be explained in have him, I will give you four of my camels, the same way. I am too happy ! But which you may choose for yourself. why is not Ebony at my side ? I regret him a thousand times more than Topaz.” Rustem thanked Providence for having sent so good a bargain in his way. “ Topaz He rode a few miles further in great glee ; was all wrong,” thought he, “ to say that but as evening fell, a chain of mountains, my journey would be unlucky.” He steeper than a rampart, and higher than the mounted the finest of the camels, and the Tower of Babel would have been when others followed. He soon rejoined his finished, entirely closed the road against the little caravan, and went on his way towards travellers, who were filled with fears. happiness. Everyone exclaimed : “ It is the will of He had not marched more than four God that we should perish here ! He has miles, when he was stopped by a torrent, broken down the bridge that we may have wide, deep, and impetuous, tumbling over no hope of returning ; He has raised up rocks all white with foam. On each shore this mountain to hinder our going forward. rose precipitous cliffs which bewildered the Oh, Rustem ! Oh, hapless Mirza! We eye and chilled the heart of man. There shall never see Cashmere, we shall never was no way of getting across, of turning to return to the land of Candahar ! ” the right hand or to the left. In Rustem’s soul the keenest anguish “ I am beginning to fear,” said Rustem, and most complete dejection succeeded the “ that Topaz may have been right to re¬ immoderate joy and hopes which had in¬ prehend me for this journey, and I very toxicated him. He was now very far from wrong to undertake it. If he were but here interpreting the oracles to his advantage : he might give me some good advice, and if “ Oh merciful Heaven ! ” he cried. “ Have I had Ebony, he at any rate would comfort I really lost my friend Topaz ? ” me, and suggest some expedient. As it is I have no one left to help me.” As he spoke the words, heaving deep sighs and shedding bitter tears in the His dismay was increased by that of his sight of his despairing followers, behold, followers. The night was very dark, and the base of the mountain opened, and a long they spent it in lamentations. At last vaulted gallery lighted by a hundred thou¬ fatigue and dejection brought sleep to the sand torches was revealed to his dazzled love-sick traveller. He awoke, however, at eyes ! daybreak, and saw a fine marble bridge built across the torrent from shore to shore. Rustem broke into exclamations of joy ; ' Then Avhat exclamations, what cries of his people fell on their knees or dropped astonishment and delight. “ Is it possible ? down with amazement, crying out that it was Is it a dream ? What a marvel ! It is a miracle, and that Rustem was destined to magic ! Dare we cross it ? ” All the Mirza’s govern the world. Rustem himself believed train fell on their knees, got up again, went it, and was uplifted beyond measure. “ Ah ! to the bridge, kissed the ground, looked up Ebony, my dear Ebony, where are you ? ” to heaven, lifted their hands ; then tremu¬ he cried. “ Why are you not here to see lously set foot on it, went over, and came all these wonders ? How did I come to back in perfect ecstasy. And Rustem said, lose you ? Fair Princess of Cashmere, “ Heaven is on my side this time. Topaz when shall I again behold your charms ? ” did not know what he was saying. The oracles were in my favour. Ebony was He marched forward with his servants, right; but why is he not here ? ” his elephant, and his camels into the tunnel under the mountain, and at the end of it Hardly had the caravan crossed in safety, came out upon a meadow enamelled with when the bridge fell into the torrent with flowers and watered by brooks. Beyond an appalling crash. this meadow, avenues of trees stretched into the far distance ; at the end of them “ So much the better I ” cried Rustem. “ God be praised ! He does not intend

THE TWO GENIES. 109 was a river bordered by delightful houses can see by his eyes that he is mad ; leave in the loveliest gardens. On every side he him in my hands ; I will take him back to heard concerts of voices and instruments, his own country and cure him.” The other and saw dancing. He hurried across one of physician declared that his only complaint the bridges over the river, and asked the was melancholy, and that he ought to be first man he met what was this beautiful taken to the Princess’s wedding and com¬ country. pelled to dance. The man to whom he spoke replied : While they were discussing his case the “You are in the province of Cashmere; sick man recovered his powers ; the two the inhabitants, as you see, are holding physicians were sent away, and Rustem great rejoicings. We are doing honour to remained alone with his host. the wedding of our beautiful Princess, who “ Sir,” said he, “ I ask your pardon for is about to marry a certain lord named fainting in your presence ; I know that it Barbabou to whom her father has plighted is not good manners, and I entreat you to accept my elephant in acknowledgment of all the kindness with which you have received me.” He then related his adventures, taking good care not to mention the object of his journey. “ But, in tire name of Brahma,” said he, “tell me who is this happy Bar¬ babou who is to be married to the Princess of Cash- mere, and why her father has chosen him for his son-in- law, and why the Princess has ac¬ cepted him for her husband.” “ My lord,” re¬ plied the gentle¬ her. May Heaven man of Cashmere, prolong their hap¬ “ the Princess is far piness from having ac¬ On hearing these cepted him. On words Rustem fell the contrary, she is down in a swoon. drowned in tears, The gentleman of while the province Cashmere, suppos¬ THE CLEVEREST PHYSICIANS WERE CALLED IN. rejoices over her ing that he was marriage. She is liable to fits, had him carried to his own shut up in the Palace Tower, and refuses house, where he lay some time unconscious. to see any of the festivities prepared in her The two cleverest physicians of the district honour.” were called in ; they felt their patient’s Rustem, on hearing this, felt new life in pulse ; and he having somewhat recovered, his soul, and the colour which sorrow had sobbed and sighed, and rolled his eyes, faded came again into his cheeks. exclaiming, “ Topaz, Tapaz, you were right “ Then pray tell me,” he continued, after all! ” “ why the Prince of Cashmere persists in marrying her to Barbabou against her will.” One of the physicians said to the gentle¬ man of Cashmere, “ I perceive by his accent “The facts are these,” replied his friend. that this young man comes from Candahar ; “ Do you know that our august Prince lost the air of this country does not agree with some time ago a diamond and a javelin, on him, and he must be sent home again. I which his heart was greatly set ? ”

no THE STRAND MAGAZINE, “ I know it well,” said Rustem. pared the two diamonds, and, as he knew “ Then, I must tell you,” said his host, nothing about gems, he could not tell which that the Prince, in despair at hearing was the true one. nothing of his two treasures, after searching for them all the world over, promised his “Here are two diamonds,” said he, “ but daughter in marriage to anyone who would I have only one daughter. I am in a strange bring him either of them. Then Barbabou dilemma ! ” arrived and brought the diamond with him ; and he is to marry the Princess to-morrow.” Then he sent for Barbabou, and asked Rustem turned pale. He muttered his him whether he had not deceived him. thanks, took leave of his host, and went off Barbabou swore that he had bought the on his dromedary to the capital where the diamond of an Armenian. Ru-stem did not ceremony was to take place. He reached say from whom he had got his, but he the palace of the sovereign, announced that proposed, as a solution, that his Highness he had matters of importance to com¬ should allow him and his rival to fight in municate to him, and craved an audience. single combat on the spot. He was told that the Prince was engaged in preparing for the wedding. “That is “ It is not enough that your son-in-law the very reason,” said he, should possess a diamond,” said he, “ he “ why I wish to speak to ought also to show proof of valour. Do you him.” In short, he was so not think it fair that the one who kills the irgent that he was admitted. “My lord,” said he, “may Heaven crown your days with glory and magnificence! Your son-in-law is a rascal.” “ A rascal! How dare you say so ? Is that the way to speak to a Prince of Cash- mere of the son-in- law he has chosen ? ” Yes, a rascal,” said Rustem . “And to prove it to your Highness, here is other should marry the Princess ? ” “ Very good,” said the Prince ; “ it will be a fine show for all the Court. You two shall fight it out at once. The con¬ queror shall have THE COMBAT BEGAN. the armour of the conquered man, after your diamond, which I have brought back the custom of Cashmere ; and he shall marry to you.” the Princess.” The Prince, in much amazement, com- The rivals immediately descended to the

THE TWO GENIES. 111 palace court. On the stairs they saw a mag¬ him strength. “ Cruel that you were,” pie and a raven. The raven cried, “ Fight said he ; “ why did you desert me ? The it out, fight it out ! ” the magpie, “ Do not Princess might still perhaps be living if fight! ” This made the Prince laugh. The you had been at hand ! ” rivals scarcely noticed the two birds. “ I have never left you for a moment,” The combat began. All the courtiers said Topaz. stood round them in a circle. The Princess still shut herself up in her tower and would “ I have been always at your side,” said see nothing of it. She had no suspicion Ebony. that her loVer could be in Cashmere, and she had such a horror of Barbabou that she “ What do you mean ? Why do you would not look on. The fight went off as insult me in my last moments ? ” replied well as possible. Barbabou was left stone Rustem, in a weak voice. dead, and the populace were delighted, for he was ugly and Rustem very handsome— “ Believe me, it is true,” said Topaz. a fact which almost always turns the scale “You know I never approved of this ill- of public favour. advised journey, for I foresaw its disastrous end. I was the eagle which struggled with The conqueror put on the dead man’s the vulture, and which the vulture plucked ; coat of mail, his scarf and his helmet, and I was the elephant which made off with approached the window of his mistress to your baggage to compel you to return the sound of trumpets, followed by all the home ; I was the striped ass which would Court. Everyone was shouting: “Fair fain have carried you back to your father ; Princess, come and see your handsome it was I who led your horses astray, who bridegroom who has killed his hideous produced the torrent which you could not rival! ” and the ladies repeated the words. cross, who raised the mountain which The Princess unfortunately looked out of checked your unlucky advance ; I was the window, and seeing the armour of the man physician who advised your return to your she abhorred she flew in despair to the native air, and the magpie which urged you Chinese trunk, and took out the fatal javelin, not to fight.” which darted, at her wish, to pierce her dear Rustem through a joint in his cuirass. He “ I,” said Ebony, “ was the vulture who gave a bitter cry, and in that cry the plucked the eagle, the rhinoceros which Princess thought that she recognised the thrust its horn into the elephant, the peasant voice of her hapless lover. who beat the ass, the merchant who gave you the camels to hasten you to your ruin ; She flew into the courtyard, her hair all I raised the bridge you crossed ; I bored the dishevelled, death in her eyes and in her mountains for you to pass ; I was the phy¬ heart. Rustem was lying in her father’s sician who advised you to proceed, and the arms. She saw him ! What a moment, raven which encouraged you to fight.” what a sight! Who can express the anguish, the tenderness, the horror of that “Alas! And remember the oracles,” meeting ? She threw herself upon him and added Topaz ; “ Hf you turn to the east , embraced him. you will turn to the west.’ ” “ These,” she cried, “ are the first and “ Yes, here they bury the dead with their last kisses of your lover and destroyer.” faces turned westward,” said Ebony. “ The Then snatching the dart from his wound,' oracle was plain ; why did not you under¬ she plunged it into her own heart, and died stand it ? You possessed and you possessed on the breast of the lover she adored. not ; for you had the diamond, but it was a false one, and you did not know it ; you Her father, horror-stricken and heart¬ got the best of it in battle, but you also got broken, strove in vain to bring her back the worst, for you must die ; you are Rus¬ to life ; she was no more. He broke the tem, but you will soon cease to be so. The fatal weapon into fragments, and flung away oracle is fulfilled.” the ill-starred diamonds ; and while prepara¬ tions were proceeding for his daughter’s Even as he spoke two white wings ap¬ funeral instead of her wedding, he had the peared on the shoulders of Topaz, and two bleeding but still living Rustem carried into black wings on those of Ebony. his palace. “ What is this that I see ? ” cried Rustem. Rustem was laid upon a couch. The first And Topaz and Ebony replied: “We are thing he saw, one on each side of his death¬ your two genies.” “ I,” added Topaz, “ am bed, were Topaz and Ebony. Surprise gave your good genie.” “ And you. Ebony, with your black wings, are apparently my evil genie.” “ As you say,” replied Ebony.

THE STRAND MAGAZINE. Then suddenly everything vanished. “ And what,” cried Rustem, “ has become Rustem found himself in his father’s house of that cruel Ebony, with his two black which he had not quitted, and in his bed wings ? Is it his fault that I am dying so where he had been sleeping just an hour. dreadful a death ? ” He awoke with a start, bathed in sweat “ Sir, I left him upstairs snoring. Shall and greatly scared. He shouted, he called, he rang. His servant Topaz hurried up in I call him down ? ” his night-cap, yawning. “ The villain ! He has been tormenting me these six months. It was he who took me to that fatal fair at Cabul; it was he who stole the dia¬ mond the Princess gave me ; he is the sole cause of my journey, of the death of my Princess and of the javelin- wound of Avhich I am dying in the prime of youth.” “ Make yourself easy,” said Topaz. “You have never been to Cabul. There is no Princess of Cashmere ; the Prince has but tAvo sons, and they are noAV at school. You never had any diamond. The Princess cannot be dead since she never Avas born ; and you are perfectly sound and Avell.” “What! Is it not true that you became in turn an eagle, an elephant, an ass, a doctor, and a magpie, to pro¬ tect me from ill ? ” “ It is all a dream, sir. Our ideas are no more under our control Avhen sleeping than when aAvake. The Almighty sent that string of ideas through your head, as it Avould seem, to give you some lesson AAAich you may lay to heart.” “You are making game of me,” said Rustem. “ Hoav long have I been sleeping ? ” THE TWO GENIES. “ Sir, you haA^e only slept one hour.” “ Am I dead or alive ? ” cried Rustem. “Well, I cannot understand it,” said “ Will the beautiful Princess of Cashmere Rustem. recover ? ” • ^„ But perhaps he took the lesson to heart, “Is your Highness dreaming? said and learnt to doubt Avhether all he Avished Topaz, calmly- for Avas right and good for him.

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