XII..Sir John Chester; Dickens's Most Cruel Character
1
Adoralnant note In every novel of Charles Dieken«, (be not« that make»> mankind love him almoat nn munt he la loved for humor, In hin nabln hatred of all forma of cruelty.the' cruelty of «rreedy Ignorance In sqnrerei the cruelty ot aelllahnraa and hypocrisy In PeckanttTi the cruelty of avarice In Ilalph Nlckle- by and Jona« Chuaslewlti the cruelty of eelf-love and pride la 8tecrforth| the cruelty of obstinacy In Mr. Dotn- beyi the cruelty of falae aha me In I>lp the cruelty of false mission ond pur- poee In Mrs, Jellybyi the cruelty of hard, austere morality In 'if Clen- n»m and Thomas (Jradgrlnd. It Is In keeping with hl« warm, gener- ooa nature that be should aaaall these cruelties more vehemently than those cruelties that spring- up In creatures dlatorted by unhappy birth and condition*. Thus, though he depicts Bill Klkea aa the brute that he Is, a brute without o atnale better Impulse, without a qualifying trait, Dickens'« spirit does not rise agnluat him as It due* when he tell* ot PecfcanlfT, the educated man, or when he drplcta the cruelty, con- acloua of unconacloun, of the other character* Junt named. Kvrn In <tullp, that night.mare atudy of mnllcloua, periurntlng, complete cruelty, he itrntn a creature of mere animal cruelty. Ilia gorge dora not rlae ngnlnat Qullp. Hut In Sir John (beater nf 'llimn by nudge." Dicken« paluta thP moat crurl of thoar cruel typra that he truly hatra. Sir John talented, wlae> rich, blraard by birth and breeding In hl« grcateat picture nf cruelty, be¬ cause It la a cruelty born and nur¬ tured In an Intelligent mind. Spring¬ ing up at flr«t mrrely ¦« an Inciden¬ tal thing In a life of cold, egotistical calculation. It *o grows within lt« poaacaaor that nt la«t he haa aa much pleaaure In bring cruel aa be baa In hla purault of other pleasure*. Kir John Cheater's treatment of Hugh may srnn to make htm, n' flrat right, an Incredible mnnater of cruel¬ ty.hut the atatlatlca of the found¬ ling aayluma of earth will anawer that he la no mnnater, or. If he la, that tberr have been, and are, many hnndrcd thousand* of monster* like him among men. SIR JOHN CHESTER was .veil past fifty but age sat beautifully on him. Ills face always calm and pleasant was quite Juvenile It Its bloom and clearness a constant, jrraelous smile showed white, well-or¬ dered teeth. The daintiest of lace ruf¬ fles f»!l over dellcat» hands, tended as scruplously as a beauty's. There were on his ffrrn« age no marks of age or passion, envy, hate or discontent. Nobody ever saw his graceful slender body attired in anything . n1 ;>t the height of fashion, from his laced hat to Iiis sword. He was as dainty In the privacy of his bed-chamber »n in public. Silks and flowered brocades wrapped him round in slumber: and if Sir John had been hsled suddenly from bed. he would have appeared smil¬ ing Biul perfect. So man knew so well as he thnt lOUg itftllness and passion beget wrinkles. No one knew so well ns he! that it is mire becoming to bless a man than to curse him. No man knwv so well as ho that the finest code ot morality In the world, the most gentle- vated thoughts, and the most gentle¬ manly sentiments were thos" expressed by thnt writer who should ever be England's pride.my Lord Chesterfield, Sohoding himself according to the pre¬ cepts laid down by that profound at»i perfect gentleman. Sir John Shcstor never was guilty of an ungentlemunly ,-ctlon. Unhappily, .Sir John suffered sad disappointment in his son Edward. After Lady Chester's death, the son had been sent away to he educated at a distance, because a boy hardly Is the Kort Of thing that a gentleman can have about him. He nad bjen educateu carefully thnt he might do full credit to Sir John; and his father had every reason to believe that his training had been such as to bring out in him the same qualities of mind and heart thnt h'3 possessed In such full measure himself. But Edward betrayed a discouraging not to say plebeian, weakness for all those characteristics hnd Impulses that are calculated to shock a gentle¬ man whose rules of life nre thnst of my Lord Chesterfield. Edward devel¬ oped that form of rudeness which com¬ mon persons call frankness and candor. He hnd a crude habit of associating with people or avoiding th»m accord¬ ing to his likes and dislikes. Worse than all. he entertained absurd and quite thoroughly vulgar opinions on the suhfect of love, which misled him so far thnt he quite refused to pay court to any of the rich and aristo¬ cratic young women whom his father niggested to him. Sir John was patient about it He nioko to Edward In a manner that Should have touched even so obdurato n young man as he wns. "You have to thank me, Ned." said he, "for bi¬ llig of good family. Your mother. charming person as she was, and al¬ most broken-hearted, and so forth, to leave me, when she was permaturely compelled to bjcomo lmmort-jl.had nothing to boast of In that respect. Her father wished to marry his daught¬ er Into a good family. He hnd his heart's desire, Ned. She stepped at once Into tho best and politest circles, and I have stepped Into a fortune which 1 assure you, wos very nec»srary to my comfort, quite Indispensable. Now, my good fellow, that fortune is among the things that have been. 1 am liv¬ ing on nn inconsiderable Income and my past excellent reputation. You are n handsome prepossessing, elegant fel¬ low, and I throw yon Into society thnt 1 can still command. You must repay nie by marrying well and making the most of yourself." Edward Chester not only declined to view marriage thus prndently but ag¬ gravated his unfilial behavior by fall¬ ing In love with a girl who had hard- ly cny fortuno at all. Ab It to out¬ rage sir John still more, sin; iva? tho niece of a man for whom he had Im¬ mense contempt. Indeed, had hatred not been against his principles, Sir John would, without doubt, havo hated Geoffrey Haredale, tin uncle of Emma Haredale, with a most mlllgnant hatred. (Jcoffrey Haredale had been his boy¬ hood friend and schoolmate. Ho had done ehester*« lessons for him and taken whippings for him. "When they | became men, it became necessary, un- fortunately, for Sir John to take Hnre- dale's sweetheart from him and marry her himself. Those, and similar recol- lections, wee, of course, | qulto sulll- dent In themselves to make Sir John dislike Haredale Intensely. But there was added to thin the savage speech of Hur.-idale whenever they met. These meetings were riot or Hare- dal«''n seeking. Indeed, he tried des- perately to avoid them. Ho dreaded lest, some day, ho bo carried away by his fury, and run his enemy through j th« body. A man of Intense feelings and a stern caat of mind, ho had suffered more than his nhare of sorrows, and borne Ithcin sadly for himself, brooding over them, und letting his recollections of .«" «~» «¦ band., h, «B«a Bt Harednlcfor an inM^ (From oriBlnul .'lustration by Fred Barnard > personal wrong and Injury goad him .Sir .lohn delighted In baiting him when th»>y met, delighted in playing off his soft «p^eej.. Iiis gracefulness, nls e'e- gance of manner. face and dress, against Harsdale's ungracefull strength his ungracefull dress and his rough, blunt speech. Vet, though Sir .lohn Chester lost no opportunity of forcing Haredale to exchange sp^ecll with him, some¬ thing of that gentleman's plain, un¬ disguised language, something of the hatred and loathing that he showed In every tone and gesture, must have rankled ev>n In Sir John's placid bosom: for more than once, aXter an inter- change of compliments. Sir John drew his sword when ho was alone again and ran his eyo musingly from hilt to point. P.ut always his better nature triumphed. It? remembered always that thoughtfulncss begets wrinkles; and he restored his equanimity by murmuring, with his most engaging smile: , "It may c . to that some day. but not yet. 7 yet. Haredale. Life Is plsasant e h to me, dull and full of heaviness to you. To cross swords with such a man.to Indulge his humor1 except upon extremity.would be weak indeed. Hark on. ill-favored cur. Kor- tune ever has been with mi. I like to hear you." He knew that Haredale. whose whole heart was bound up In Ills niece, would lather se.» her dead than married to any man of Chester's race. It amused him to think that, for once, he and Haredale had a thought in common. I It amused him not only to matte Hare¬ dale admit this, but to make htm agree that Sir John should do what h'.; would to break off any relations betweea Ed- ward Chester and Emma Harcdnlo. "Do what you will"' said Haredale. eying his smillng friend intently. "You have the head nt.d heart of an evil sn'rit In ell matters of deception." "Your health!" said Chester, blandly. "You will not drink with me- No- \ou are. foolish." Haredale made an Impatient motion of his hand. Unconsciously, the mo¬ tion was toward his sword. Ho turnd and clanked out of the room, leaving Sir John to compose himself In his easy-chair again with lh3 gentle! reflection: "A very coarse animal in-I deed. QuiI i a. htman badger!" Sir John used his gentlemanly ac- eomplishmenta of intrigue and diplo¬ macy so well thtt he succeeded with gratifying quickness In separating the two lovers. It was necessary merely to do a little bribing, a little Judicious] misrepresrntalon and a little manage- ment in the way of intercepting letters and forwarding others. Never had Sir John been more the gentleman than while he was engaged, softly and dell- cately, on this business. ,V -vcr had ho so enchanted those ho m«t, what¬ ever IheLr conflicting Interests and thoughts. Even those wnom he ivas forced to bribe a Ilttls thought him the sfcetest-spok-jn gcntlcman they ever had seen. Yet after Sir John had performed | his fatherly duty so conscientiously,! his reward was ingratitude. Edward swore that, though for some reason that he could not fathom, Emma Harp-j dale was lost to him, he loved her still and should continue to do so. Sir John looked at him with pater¬ nal interest, over Iiis wins and nuts. "You are so unflllal." said he, crock- XII..Sir John Chester; Dickens's Most Cruel Character lux a nut carefully. "so exceedingly, undutlfu), so Irreligious, that It is quite impossible for us to go on. If you will do me the favor to ring tlio boll, the servant will show you to tin door. Slnco you have no moral sense remaining, I beg you to return to this roof no more. Go to the Devil, at my express desire. Good day." Sir John's handsome facj was a lit¬ tle flushed, when he rang wie hell for ills servant after Kdward, without a word, had left the house. "Peak," said he to the man, "If that gentlemtfn who has Just left should call at any tlnv, I'm not at home. You'll tell htm ao and Btut th» door." Soon It was whispered about, so olety that that c.fcarmlnjt and amiable Sir John was very unfortunate In his son, rwbo had occasioned mm great grief and sorrow. It always happened that whenever Sir John had reafion for deslrelng something to bs whis¬ pered around, It "WAS whispered around, though he, himself, apparently rwnalned auite mute. Thus, long ago1 "Then Haredale's brother had been found murdered and he succedede to' the estate, It had been whispered around very generally, that the only |one«who benefited by the murder was Geoffrey Haredale, It had been obligatory on Sir John to use many Instrument! for his pur- pose of saving his son from the un¬ wise alliance. One of these instru¬ ments was one on which he looked ap proyingly; because it seemed useful to him for other purposes. The lustru- ment wis Hugh, a hostler In the May- pole Inn that was part or the Hare- dale estate. He was such a man as would have held the attention ot even less observant persons than Sir .lohn. A young man. with a figure so athle¬ tic and supple that his gigantic strength seemed to sit lighty on him with a sunburnt face and swarthy throat overgrown with jet black hair, he had a fierceness and gild sprit i« .lis countenance that advertised him as a man daring enough to do any¬ thing. He had obtained for Sir John two of Emma Itaredale's letters to Iiis son, by methods into which Mr. Chester firmly Inclined to Inquire. At tin same time, he had stolen a bracelet from the messenger, on his own ,ic- count. This, being a hanging matter, Mr. Chester held his knowledge over his tool's head and established abso¬ lute supremacy over him. During the course f.f their com¬ munications it chanced one night that Hugh fell asleep on the staircase out¬ side of Mr. Chester's chamber.;, while waiting for him to return home. Sir John, coming up the stairs with a lighted candle, was about to awaken him with his foot, lie slopped In the very action and shading the candle, examined the man's upturned features closely. Close at It was one cx»m- inatlon did not suffice him. lie looked and looked. Hugh awoke suddenly. Sir John, usually so quiek and cool, was r">l cool enough to withdraw his gazo. They remained staring at 'Sach other, till Sir John at last broke silence and told him to follow. He was higher, and cooler, and more complacently Ironical of llue,h than ever that night, quite the whimsical, gentlemanly Sir John, lookinK clown1 from his aristocratic height on an in¬ teresting but base animal. Y'at after Hugh had gone he looked intently at the lire, and his subject was one that hardly would seem a likely one for a gentleman of his dalnt- Inoss. He thought of Tyburn, and a I gallows there, and a great exowd gat herad to see while they flanged aj woman.a handsome, bold, reckless I woman With tho face and dark eyes' of a gypsey. He thought ot Hugh's! face, upturned in th.* candlelight. And he pieced together what Hugh had told him.that ho knew no other name', but Hugh, that ho remembered only that Iiis mother had been hanged while! ho was a little ragged boy. Hi' hail not slept long that night when hc-nwoke and thought that Hugh j was at his 'door, calling In a strange; voice. The imprtesalon was strong' .enough to make him arise and go to the door, sword in hand. Nobody »was hero. He returned to bed and feilt Into an uneasy sleep. ¦Whatever may have been thi as- soolutlons that his sudden sight of Hugh's face brought back to Sir John Chester, whatever strong reason may have been his, for knowing that some¬ thing of long URO had sprung Into llfi again before him.he did not permit It to disturb his even life nor did It Incline htm to dissuade his half-slv- age protege from courses that wero pretty certain to lead him to the gal¬ lows. Indeed, he rather encouraged Hugh. In his playful, gentlemanly way, and especially so when there came the first stirrings of ths troubles that wero destined to follow the religious agl- tatlon set on foot by the sincere but halm-crazed nobleman, Ijord Oeorge Gordon. There were wratched hordes In Lon¬ don In those days that waited only for any man, good or bad. to Incite I thorn. There wore scheming outlaws In and about London In plenty, who were reckless enough, and bold enough, to sack t!ie town Itself if occasion offend. Thousands of these wretched people, so poor that nothing could make them more wretched, hundreds of these outlaws, and tens it thou¬ sands of honest people watched Loro? George Gordon, listened to his intlama- Itory speeches and Joined his move¬ ment, till the "No Topery" cry i>e- came one of common daily use. and out rages on citizens whose crime was that they wero Catholics became things of dally oecurrense. There were leaders In London who had their eye on Hugh, as a man who was daring enough and Ignorant enough to do what they wished but feared to do themselves, With a smile as If he said: "God hless you!" "sir' John Chester urged Hugh to Join them. He plied the man with drink, on that day; and Whan he had excited his mood sufficiently, he reminded him that Geoffrey Haredale,, was not only a Catholic, blit one who had assailed Lord George Gordon bitterly before his own support irS. He reminded Hugh, too. thai While he was hoatlet at the Maypole Inn. Mr. Haredale had lost no opportunity of treating him roughly and llko a dog.an invontlon that Hugh took to himself an an artlolo of faith after ho had liquor enough. "If those vagabonds should Inflict some little chastisement on Haredale." reflected Sir John, aftsr Hugh had swaggered out, "It would be extremely agreeable to my feelings and would amuse mo beyond measure." IN dropped In a few kindly hints about Mr. Haredale to certain other des- perato spirits whom ho knew. Hla alTecUonats wish waa not left unfulfilled very long. From peaceful assemblies of the crazy noblemuu's ad¬ herents, there sprang turbulent crowds The turbulent crowds, loft unres¬ trained and n ores trained by a faltering Lord Mayor, Joined Into riotous hards. A moral plague ran through tho city. Sober workmen cast down their tools. Infected by the disorder that sprang up aa If by magic. From 'svery slum, every hiding place, there issued what waa bred there, to rule tho riots. For four days thä mog held London In Its hand. Seventy-two privat» houses ownsd by prominent Cathodlcs or Protestants who had refused to pander to tho cry against them, wer» burned down. Four great Jails. In¬ cluding Newgate, wero destroyed and th.Mr liberated. More than two hundred people wer« killed In the streets; and nobody ever knew how luüiiy iiunurvd ,..c . in the niuing places to which they crept after the govern¬ ment sent the military Into the city. Foremost among the rioters waa Hugh. It waa a strange evidence of tho disorder and grotesqucnoas that ruled mon's minds that Hugh'a closest companion and abettor was Dennis, the hangman of l/mrlon. The first violent deol that these did with their followers was to manch out of Dondon and burn down Mr. Hare- dale's great house after pillaging tho Maypole Inn. They had so timed their arrival at the Haredale estate that they reached It before Haredale could, and found his niece F.mma and her companion Dolly Verden protected only by a few servants, who were killed or captured after as much defence as they cnuld make agodnst the huge mob. The two girls w»re carried off. and Mr. Haredale, riding madly from London when ho saw tha flames on tho distant sky, arrived only to find red mine. He made frantic search, giving him¬ self no rest day or night, and pene¬ trating Into places where tho mero whisper of his name or religion would vain. Such was the dismay In all Ijoii- valn. Suh was the dismay In all l^>n- don, so powerless were the authori¬ ties, that none could help him. But, If he failed to discover the where¬ abouts of the kidnapped girls, he did discover that hp was Indebted to Ches¬ ter for tho attack on his house. One night, the night of the attack on Newgate. Mr. Haredale. venturing Into the thick of the raving mob, was rescued from Inimont danger by Kd- ward Chester. In his extremity, Hare¬ dale accepted the young man's assist¬ ance In the hunt. The two succeeded at lost In finding and rescuing the girls, who bad suffered nothing worse than Imprisonment in an obi houss while their captors deliberated what to dq_ ,wl£h them. As JSOöfl as order was restored, the' authorities, enger to make up for- their previous neglect, hurried th» rioters. t« Jail by hundreds and pre¬ pared to hing them by scores. It was impossible that one who had been so prominent aavTuigh should esc.ipe. Hu was taken, tried .and sentenced to be hanged. With him, and doomed to die at the same time, was Dennis, the hangman.a miller come to the grind¬ ing. On the morning 'if the day before that set for the -execution. Sir John Chester was breakfasting gracefully In bed, when a visitor was announced. He was one who knew both Chester and Haredale.a brave, honest citizen named Yarden. He stood with unoon- . CJO TO THE DEVIL, AT JIV EXPRESS DESIRE! GOOD D VY .. (From original Illustration by Fred Barnard I oea'.ed Impatience and anxiety while I .Sir John Indulged In pleasant compll- ] men is. "My errand la urgent, sir John." ho burst out. "Sir John, tills morning a man condemned to die sent to me, and I went to Newgate. I have come straight hern from there." sir John exclaimed.: "How shocking!" camphor In the room. "My dear, good soul, how could you?" ho remonstrated with Varden. "To como hero from such a horrible place!" "Sir John, Sir John!" said Varden. "Hear me! To-mbrrOW Hie man must die. Hear me, for i have something terrible to tell yon.-' Heedless of Mr. r'hester'.M further efforts to Interrupt him, he told how Hugh and the hang- man. occupying tho Famo cell, had exchanged confidences; how Dennis re¬ membered hanging Hugh's mother; how tho woman had told him, on tho gallows tho name of the father of her son. "My dear .Mr. Varden!" began Sir John raising a cup of chocolate dainti¬ ly to his lips. "Do not hope to deceive moV cried Varden, earnestly, "l know that yuu HUGH AND DENNIS IN JA Iii. (From original Illustration by Fred Barnard.) are eure what name -n-as uttered on ihn sallows. I know that you believe this doomed man. Hugh, to be your son!'' The knight finished his cup of cho- colate steadily, and wiped his lips. And to what," said he, adjusting his, pillow for greater luxury, "My dear, good-natured estlmablo Mr. Varden,! does all this tend :" "Pave him! Save him!" cried Varden. "Strain every nerve In behalf of your miserable son, strain every inlluence you have! I lake you to be a man!" "And have you really lived to your! present age my good -Mr. Varden." sold Chester In a tone of mild reproof, "and remained so simple as to believe des- j perato men In their last extremity.; rat-.-hiiig at any straw? Oh. lie. tie! On any other subject I shall be delighte I. charmed, to converse with you; but; II owe !t to my own character not to! I pursue <hls topie for another moment,'*] He kissed his delicate hand gracefully i as a token of dismissal, and tin. man. I giving Sir John one look, withdrew. "So she kept her word!" murmured, j (.'luster, alone, lie looked suddenly {jh'ae^^rd. 'This affair would make ill fnoihr. if :i resic.j ,.n better evidence I But I wiii not Join the fettered links' of the chain, and can afford to slight 1 I It. Extremely distressing to be thoj j parent ,.r .such an uncouth chealnre!] 'Still. I gave him Very nood advice. 1] told him hie would certainly bo hanged, (.There are a great many fathers who never have done as much for tholi I natural children." fie rang his bell to have his hair dressed, j Ho listened next day to the city clocks-Hooahing out tho hour of noon.! When they had ceased, he knew that| Hugh was dead, lie went abroad that evening the same polished gentleman that he always had been, unruffled, genial, smiling. lie remained unruffled even when' ho learned that Edward Chester had I married Emma Haredale with the free ani Riad permission of her uncle, \\ !u» had come to know and rcsp-.'ct litt' young man so Well that it broke down his hatred of the Cheater race. "1 have lived n mistaken life," said Mr. Haredale. "I have broken, whore 1 should have beut. I have mustd alone when my spirit should have mixed ivlth all öod's great creation The men who learn endurance are they who call the whole world brother. 1 turned from the world, and 1 pay the penalty." in another month, Haredale was alone in (jondnn. Kdward had taken his young tvifp to the West Indies. he had found opportunity for a career. Older and more care-worn than he« fore, Mr. Ifarcdalc now had nothing to tie him to the world. Resides hla love for his niece, only one other purpose had absorbed him for many years. That was, to Und his brother'*- murderer: and In this ho had succeeded. He had taken tho man during; the rlota with his own hands, had seen hin» tried, and hail watched while they hanged him. This accomplished', I» determined to carry out- an old, vague plan, and to seek retreat in some, rellg-. ions order. He wished to look once, morj on the walls of hl3 old house befors he left the world forever. Even as he thought of this, somo heavy foreboding, a vague, formless gloom, seemed to warn him. The next day wtrsn he started away from his lodgings, a waiter ran. after him and brought him his sword, which he had left behind. "Why have you brought it to me?" asked Mr. Hare- dale, stretching out his hand and still not taking it. The man, bewildered by his disturbed and agitated manner, murmured something aoout tho danger of the roads. Mr. Haredale took the sword and put it up at his side. It was evening when he reached the house, a calm and peaceful evening, with a radiant sunset sky. Against the softened colors the blackened min« looked all the more mournful. Haredale had made nearly the circuit <:f the ruins, when ho stopped still with a half-auppresacd exclamation. Reclining In an easy attitude against a :.-ee and contemplating the des¬ truction with exquisite pleasure, b»for« him, on his own ground, and trluinp- Ing over him then as he had done in every misfortune and disappointment of his life, stood sir John Chester. Although his blood so rose that he could have struck him dead, Haredulo put a tierce constraint on himself and would have passed without a word or [look. He would have passed, through It required an effort scarcely human to resist the Devil that tempted him within. Hawould have gone on; but the man himself called to him to stop, and that with such assumed eompas- Slon In his voice that It drova him well- nlght mad. "How very picturesque this is'." said Sir John, and raised his glass to his eye. "I would," said Haredale. almost in agony. "I would with all my soul that you had been in Paradise (if such a monstrous He could bo enacted) rather than hero to-night. Your agents have betrayed you. With hints, and looks, and crafty words, which told again, are nothing, you set on tlioso who hated me to do this work. With these same hints, and looks and crafty words* you put It Into their minds to abduct my niece. You did! I seo denial In your face. Denial is a lie'.'" The knight, with a contemptuous smile, replied to him with a sarcastic speech. Mr. Harcdalo cried: "Cold¬ blooded, hollow, false villlnn. I spurn you like a faithless dog-:" and struck him. Sir John threw away his scabbard and his hat. and rushed at him, mak¬ ing so desperate a lunge at his heart that, had Ilnredalc's guard not been llghtnlng-liku and true. It would hava stretched him dead. Even In that Instant. Haredale put a stop on hi;-, rage, lie parried tho rapid thrusts without returning them, and called out, with a kind of frantic terror on Ills face: "Not to-nlgiit! In God's name, not to-night'" Both lowered their weapons. "I warn you!'' cried Haredale. "Not to-night! Me warned In time!" "Did you believe that your every look and wotd was not to be account'd for. and was not well remembered?" asked Sir John deliberately, though now ho dropped his mask and showed bis bitter hatred. "((nee mor >," cried his opponent, "I Implore yoif not to come within reach of my sword to-night! Oh, why hava wo met? To-morrow would have cast us far apart forever!" "That being the ease," replied Chcs- t -r "It is very fortunate that we have met. I am sorry to Und you a coward." Not another word was spoken. Thoy attacked each other fiercely. Thoy wi re matched. Though Haredale had advantage of strength and height, Chester had the superior skill and ccr- tain'y superior coolness. After a few exchanges, they grew ho tt :. and more fur Each Inflict>d r < lvrd slight wounds. Directly tter reiving one of theso In bis arm, le, making a keener thrust as felt the warm blood spurting out, ngod his sword through his oppon- nt's body till the Made was stopped by the hilt. Their eyes met. and were on each other, as he drew It out. He put hla arm about the dying man, who re¬ pulsed him, feebly, and dropped upon the lur.'. Raising himself upon his hands, he gaz2d at Haredale for an Instant, with scorn and hatred In hla look, but, as if hi reine inhered, even then, that this expression would dis¬ tort his features, ho tried to smile, and fell hack. dead. (Copyright, 1913, by J. W. Mailer,)
Transcript of XII..Sir John Chester; Dickens's Most Cruel Character
Adoralnant note In every novel ofCharles Dieken«, (be not« that make»>mankind love him almoat nn munthe la loved for humor, In hin nablnhatred of all forma of cruelty.the'cruelty of «rreedy Ignorance Insqnrerei the cruelty ot aelllahnraaand hypocrisy In PeckanttTi thecruelty of avarice In Ilalph Nlckle-by and Jona« Chuaslewlti the crueltyof eelf-love and pride la 8tecrforth|the cruelty of obstinacy In Mr. Dotn-beyi the cruelty of falae ahame In I>lpthe cruelty of false mission ond pur-poee In Mrs, Jellybyi the cruelty ofhard, austere morality In 'if Clen-n»m and Thomas (Jradgrlnd.
It Is In keeping with hl« warm, gener-ooa nature that be should aaaallthese cruelties more vehementlythan those cruelties that spring- upIn creatures dlatorted by unhappybirth and condition*. Thus, thoughhe depicts Bill Klkea aa the brute thathe Is, a brute without o atnale betterImpulse, without a qualifying trait,Dickens'« spirit does not rise agnluathim as It due* when he tell* otPecfcanlfT, the educated man, orwhen he drplcta the cruelty, con-acloua of unconacloun, of the othercharacter* Junt named. Kvrn In<tullp, that night.mare atudy ofmnllcloua, periurntlng, completecruelty, he itrntn a creature of mereanimal cruelty. Ilia gorge dora notrlae ngnlnat Qullp.
Hut In Sir John (beater nf 'llimnby nudge." Dicken« paluta thP moatcrurl of thoar cruel typra that hetruly hatra. Sir John talented, wlae>rich, blraard by birth and breedingIn hl« grcateat picture nf cruelty, be¬cause It la a cruelty born and nur¬tured In an Intelligent mind. Spring¬ing up at flr«t mrrely ¦« an Inciden¬tal thing In a life of cold, egotisticalcalculation. It *o grows within lt«poaacaaor that nt la«t he haa aa muchpleaaure In bring cruel aa be baa Inhla purault of other pleasure*.
Kir John Cheater's treatment of Hughmay srnn to make htm, n' flratright, an Incredible mnnater of cruel¬ty.hut the atatlatlca of the found¬ling aayluma of earth will anawerthat he la no mnnater, or. If he la,that tberr have been, and are, manyhnndrcd thousand* of monster* likehim among men.
SIR JOHN CHESTER was .veil pastfifty but age sat beautifully onhim. Ills face always calm andpleasant was quite Juvenile It Its
bloom and clearness a constant,jrraelous smile showed white, well-or¬dered teeth. The daintiest of lace ruf¬fles f»!l over dellcat» hands, tended asscruplously as a beauty's. There wereon his ffrrn« age no marks of age orpassion, envy, hate or discontent.Nobody ever saw his graceful slender
body attired in anything . n1 ;>t theheight of fashion, from his laced hatto Iiis sword. He was as dainty Inthe privacy of his bed-chamber »n inpublic. Silks and flowered brocadeswrapped him round in slumber: andif Sir John had been hsled suddenlyfrom bed. he would have appeared smil¬ing Biul perfect.So man knew so well as he thntlOUg itftllness and passion beget
wrinkles. No one knew so well ns he!that it is mire becoming to bless aman than to curse him. No man knwvso well as ho that the finest code otmorality In the world, the most gentle-vated thoughts, and the most gentle¬manly sentiments were thos" expressedby thnt writer who should ever beEngland's pride.my Lord Chesterfield,Sohoding himself according to the pre¬cepts laid down by that profound at»iperfect gentleman. Sir John Shcstornever was guilty of an ungentlemunly,-ctlon.
Unhappily, .Sir John suffered saddisappointment in his son Edward.After Lady Chester's death, the son hadbeen sent away to he educated at adistance, because a boy hardly Is theKort Of thing that a gentleman canhave about him. He nad bjen educateucarefully thnt he might do full creditto Sir John; and his father had everyreason to believe that his traininghad been such as to bring out in himthe same qualities of mind and heartthnt h'3 possessed In such full measurehimself.But Edward betrayed a discouraging
not to say plebeian, weakness for allthose characteristics hnd Impulsesthat are calculated to shock a gentle¬man whose rules of life nre thnst ofmy Lord Chesterfield. Edward devel¬oped that form of rudeness which com¬mon persons call frankness and candor.He hnd a crude habit of associatingwith people or avoiding th»m accord¬ing to his likes and dislikes. Worsethan all. he entertained absurd andquite thoroughly vulgar opinions onthe suhfect of love, which misled himso far thnt he quite refused to paycourt to any of the rich and aristo¬cratic young women whom his fatherniggested to him.
Sir John was patient about it Henioko to Edward In a manner thatShould have touched even so obduraton young man as he wns. "You haveto thank me, Ned." said he, "for bi¬llig of good family. Your mother.charming person as she was, and al¬most broken-hearted, and so forth, toleave me, when she was permaturelycompelled to bjcomo lmmort-jl.hadnothing to boast of In that respect.Her father wished to marry his daught¬er Into a good family. He hnd hisheart's desire, Ned. She stepped atonce Into tho best and politest circles,and I have stepped Into a fortune which1 assure you, wos very nec»srary tomy comfort, quite Indispensable. Now,my good fellow, that fortune is amongthe things that have been. 1 am liv¬ing on nn inconsiderable Income andmy past excellent reputation. You aren handsome prepossessing, elegant fel¬low, and I throw yon Into society thnt1 can still command. You must repaynie by marrying well and making themost of yourself."Edward Chester not only declined to
view marriage thus prndently but ag¬gravated his unfilial behavior by fall¬ing In love with a girl who had hard-
ly cny fortuno at all. Ab It to out¬rage sir John still more, sin; iva? thoniece of a man for whom he had Im¬mense contempt. Indeed, had hatrednot been against his principles, SirJohn would, without doubt, havo hatedGeoffrey Haredale, tin uncle of EmmaHaredale, with a most mlllgnanthatred.
(Jcoffrey Haredale had been his boy¬hood friend and schoolmate. Ho haddone ehester*« lessons for him andtaken whippings for him. "When they |became men, it became necessary, un-fortunately, for Sir John to take Hnre-dale's sweetheart from him and marryher himself. Those, and similar recol-lections, wee, of course, | qulto sulll-dent In themselves to make Sir Johndislike Haredale Intensely. But therewas added to thin the savage speechof Hur.-idale whenever they met.These meetings were riot or Hare-
dal«''n seeking. Indeed, he tried des-perately to avoid them. Ho dreadedlest, some day, ho bo carried away byhis fury, and run his enemy through jth« body.A man of Intense feelings and a stern
caat of mind, ho had suffered morethan his nhare of sorrows, and borneIthcin sadly for himself, brooding overthem, und letting his recollections of
.«" «~» «¦ band., h, «B«a Bt Harednlcfor an inM^(From oriBlnul .'lustration by Fred Barnard >
personal wrong and Injury goad him.Sir .lohn delighted In baiting him whenth»>y met, delighted in playing off hissoft «p^eej.. Iiis gracefulness, nls e'e-gance of manner. face and dress,against Harsdale's ungracefull strengthhis ungracefull dress and his rough,blunt speech.
Vet, though Sir .lohn Chester lostno opportunity of forcing Haredaleto exchange sp^ecll with him, some¬thing of that gentleman's plain, un¬disguised language, something of thehatred and loathing that he showedIn every tone and gesture, must haverankled ev>n In Sir John's placid bosom:for more than once, aXter an inter-change of compliments. Sir John drewhis sword when ho was alone againand ran his eyo musingly from hiltto point. P.ut always his better naturetriumphed. It? remembered alwaysthat thoughtfulncss begets wrinkles;and he restored his equanimity bymurmuring, with his most engagingsmile:
,"It may c . to that some day. but
not yet. 7 yet. Haredale. Life Isplsasant e h to me, dull and fullof heaviness to you. To cross swordswith such a man.to Indulge his humor1except upon extremity.would be weakindeed. Hark on. ill-favored cur. Kor-tune ever has been with mi. I liketo hear you."He knew that Haredale. whose whole
heart was bound up In Ills niece, wouldlather se.» her dead than married toany man of Chester's race. It amusedhim to think that, for once, he andHaredale had a thought in common.
I It amused him not only to matte Hare¬dale admit this, but to make htm agreethat Sir John should do what h'.; wouldto break off any relations betweea Ed-ward Chester and Emma Harcdnlo."Do what you will"' said Haredale.
eying his smillng friend intently."You have the head nt.d heart of anevil sn'rit In ell matters of deception.""Your health!" said Chester, blandly.
"You will not drink with me- No- \ouare. foolish."Haredale made an Impatient motion
of his hand. Unconsciously, the mo¬tion was toward his sword. Ho turndand clanked out of the room, leavingSir John to compose himself In hiseasy-chair again with lh3 gentle!reflection: "A very coarse animal in-Ideed. QuiI i a. htman badger!"
Sir John used his gentlemanly ac-eomplishmenta of intrigue and diplo¬macy so well thtt he succeeded withgratifying quickness In separating thetwo lovers. It was necessary merelyto do a little bribing, a little Judicious]misrepresrntalon and a little manage-ment in the way of intercepting lettersand forwarding others. Never had SirJohn been more the gentleman thanwhile he was engaged, softly and dell-cately, on this business. ,V -vcr hadho so enchanted those ho m«t, what¬ever IheLr conflicting Interests andthoughts. Even those wnom he ivasforced to bribe a Ilttls thought him thesfcetest-spok-jn gcntlcman they everhad seen.Yet after Sir John had performed |his fatherly duty so conscientiously,!his reward was ingratitude. Edward
swore that, though for some reasonthat he could not fathom, Emma Harp-jdale was lost to him, he loved herstill and should continue to do so.
Sir John looked at him with pater¬nal interest, over Iiis wins and nuts."You are so unflllal." said he, crock-
XII..Sir John Chester; Dickens's Most Cruel Characterlux a nut carefully. "so exceedingly,undutlfu), so Irreligious, that It isquite impossible for us to go on. Ifyou will do me the favor to ring tlioboll, the servant will show you to tindoor. Slnco you have no moral sense
remaining, I beg you to return to thisroof no more. Go to the Devil, atmy express desire. Good day."
Sir John's handsome facj was a lit¬tle flushed, when he rang wie hell forills servant after Kdward, without aword, had left the house. "Peak," saidhe to the man, "If that gentlemtfn whohas Just left should call at any tlnv,I'm not at home. You'll tell htm aoand Btut th» door."Soon It was whispered about, so
olety that that c.fcarmlnjt and amiableSir John was very unfortunate In hisson, rwbo had occasioned mm greatgrief and sorrow. It always happenedthat whenever Sir John had reafionfor deslrelng something to bs whis¬pered around, It "WAS whisperedaround, though he, himself, apparentlyrwnalned auite mute. Thus, long ago1
"Then Haredale's brother had beenfound murdered and he succedede to'the estate, It had been whisperedaround very generally, that the only|one«who benefited by the murder wasGeoffrey Haredale,
It had been obligatory on Sir Johnto use many Instrument! for his pur-pose of saving his son from the un¬wise alliance. One of these instru¬ments was one on which he looked approyingly; because it seemed useful tohim for other purposes. The lustru-ment wis Hugh, a hostler In the May-pole Inn that was part or the Hare-dale estate. He was such a man aswould have held the attention ot evenless observant persons than Sir .lohn.A young man. with a figure so athle¬tic and supple that his giganticstrength seemed to sit lighty on himwith a sunburnt face and swarthythroat overgrown with jet black hair,he had a fierceness and gild sprit i«.lis countenance that advertised himas a man daring enough to do any¬thing.He had obtained for Sir John two ofEmma Itaredale's letters to Iiis son,by methods into which Mr. Chesterfirmly Inclined to Inquire. At tin
same time, he had stolen a braceletfrom the messenger, on his own ,ic-count. This, being a hanging matter,Mr. Chester held his knowledge overhis tool's head and established abso¬lute supremacy over him.During the course f.f their com¬
munications it chanced one night thatHugh fell asleep on the staircase out¬side of Mr. Chester's chamber.;, whilewaiting for him to return home. SirJohn, coming up the stairs with alighted candle, was about to awakenhim with his foot, lie slopped In thevery action and shading the candle,examined the man's upturned featuresclosely. Close at It was one cx»m-inatlon did not suffice him. lie lookedand looked.
Hugh awoke suddenly. Sir John,usually so quiek and cool, was r">lcool enough to withdraw his gazo.They remained staring at 'Sach other,till Sir John at last broke silenceand told him to follow.He was higher, and cooler, and more
complacently Ironical of llue,h thanever that night, quite the whimsical,gentlemanly Sir John, lookinK clown1from his aristocratic height on an in¬teresting but base animal.
Y'at after Hugh had gone he lookedintently at the lire, and his subjectwas one that hardly would seem alikely one for a gentleman of his dalnt-Inoss. He thought of Tyburn, and a Igallows there, and a great exowdgatherad to see while they flanged ajwoman.a handsome, bold, reckless Iwoman With tho face and dark eyes'of a gypsey. He thought ot Hugh's!face, upturned in th.* candlelight. Andhe pieced together what Hugh hadtold him.that ho knew no other name',but Hugh, that ho remembered onlythat Iiis mother had been hanged while!ho was a little ragged boy.
Hi' hail not slept long that nightwhen hc-nwoke and thought that Hugh jwas at his 'door, calling In a strange;voice. The imprtesalon was strong'
.enough to make him arise and go tothe door, sword in hand. Nobody »washero. He returned to bed and feiltInto an uneasy sleep.
¦Whatever may have been thi as-
soolutlons that his sudden sight ofHugh's face brought back to Sir JohnChester, whatever strong reason mayhave been his, for knowing that some¬thing of long URO had sprung Into llfiagain before him.he did not permitIt to disturb his even life nor did ItIncline htm to dissuade his half-slv-age protege from courses that weropretty certain to lead him to the gal¬lows.
Indeed, he rather encouraged Hugh.In his playful, gentlemanly way, andespecially so when there came thefirst stirrings of ths troubles that werodestined to follow the religious agl-tatlon set on foot by the sincere buthalm-crazed nobleman, Ijord OeorgeGordon.
There were wratched hordes In Lon¬don In those days that waited onlyfor any man, good or bad. to Incite
Ithorn. There wore scheming outlawsIn and about London In plenty, whowere reckless enough, and bold enough,to sack t!ie town Itself if occasionoffend. Thousands of these wretchedpeople, so poor that nothing couldmake them more wretched, hundredsof these outlaws, and tens it thou¬sands of honest people watched Loro?George Gordon, listened to his intlama-
Itory speeches and Joined his move¬ment, till the "No Topery" cry i>e-
came one of common daily use. andout rages on citizens whose crime wasthat they wero Catholics became thingsof dally oecurrense.There were leaders In London who
had their eye on Hugh, as a man whowas daring enough and Ignorantenough to do what they wished butfeared to do themselves, With a smileas If he said: "God hless you!" "sir'John Chester urged Hugh to Join them.He plied the man with drink, on thatday; and Whan he had excited hismood sufficiently, he reminded himthat Geoffrey Haredale,, was not onlya Catholic, blit one who had assailedLord George Gordon bitterly beforehis own support irS. He remindedHugh, too. thai While he was hoatletat the Maypole Inn. Mr. Haredale had
lost no opportunity of treating himroughly and llko a dog.an invontlonthat Hugh took to himself an an artloloof faith after ho had liquor enough.
"If those vagabonds should Inflictsome little chastisement on Haredale."reflected Sir John, aftsr Hugh hadswaggered out, "It would be extremelyagreeable to my feelings and wouldamuse mo beyond measure." INdropped In a few kindly hints aboutMr. Haredale to certain other des-perato spirits whom ho knew.Hla alTecUonats wish waa not left
unfulfilled very long. From peacefulassemblies of the crazy noblemuu's ad¬herents, there sprang turbulent crowdsThe turbulent crowds, loft unres¬trained and n ores trained by a falteringLord Mayor, Joined Into riotous hards.A moral plague ran through tho city.Sober workmen cast down their tools.Infected by the disorder that sprangup aa If by magic. From 'svery slum,every hiding place, there issued whatwaa bred there, to rule tho riots.For four days thä mog held London
In Its hand. Seventy-two privat»houses ownsd by prominent Cathodlcsor Protestants who had refused topander to tho cry against them, wer»burned down. Four great Jails. In¬cluding Newgate, wero destroyed andth.Mr liberated. More thantwo hundred people wer« killed In thestreets; and nobody ever knew howluüiiy iiunurvd ,..c . in the niuing placesto which they crept after the govern¬ment sent the military Into the city.Foremost among the rioters waa
Hugh. It waa a strange evidence oftho disorder and grotesqucnoas thatruled mon's minds that Hugh'a closestcompanion and abettor was Dennis, thehangman of l/mrlon.The first violent deol that these did
with their followers was to manch outof Dondon and burn down Mr. Hare-dale's great house after pillaging thoMaypole Inn. They had so timed theirarrival at the Haredale estate thatthey reached It before Haredale could,and found his niece F.mma and hercompanion Dolly Verden protected onlyby a few servants, who were killedor captured after as much defence asthey cnuld make agodnst the hugemob. The two girls w»re carried off.and Mr. Haredale, riding madly fromLondon when ho saw tha flames ontho distant sky, arrived only to findred mine.He made frantic search, giving him¬
self no rest day or night, and pene¬trating Into places where tho merowhisper of his name or religion wouldvain. Such was the dismay In all Ijoii-valn. Suh was the dismay In all l^>n-don, so powerless were the authori¬ties, that none could help him. But,If he failed to discover the where¬abouts of the kidnapped girls, he diddiscover that hp was Indebted to Ches¬ter for tho attack on his house.One night, the night of the attack
on Newgate. Mr. Haredale. venturingInto the thick of the raving mob, wasrescued from Inimont danger by Kd-ward Chester. In his extremity, Hare¬dale accepted the young man's assist¬ance In the hunt. The two succeededat lost In finding and rescuing thegirls, who bad suffered nothing worsethan Imprisonment in an obi housswhile their captors deliberated whatto dq_ ,wl£h them.As JSOöfl as order was restored, the'
authorities, enger to make up for-their previous neglect, hurried th»rioters. t« Jail by hundreds and pre¬pared to hing them by scores. It wasimpossible that one who had been soprominent aavTuigh should esc.ipe. Huwas taken, tried .and sentenced to behanged. With him, and doomed todie at the same time, was Dennis, thehangman.a miller come to the grind¬ing.On the morning 'if the day before
that set for the -execution. Sir JohnChester was breakfasting gracefullyIn bed, when a visitor was announced.He was one who knew both Chesterand Haredale.a brave, honest citizennamed Yarden. He stood with unoon-
. CJO TO THE DEVIL, AT JIV EXPRESS DESIRE! GOOD D VY ..
(From original Illustration by Fred BarnardI oea'.ed Impatience and anxiety whileI .Sir John Indulged In pleasant compll-] men is. "My errand la urgent, sirJohn." ho burst out. "Sir John, tillsmorning a man condemned to die sentto me, and I went to Newgate. I havecome straight hern from there."
sir John exclaimed.: "How shocking!"camphor In the room. "My dear, goodsoul, how could you?" ho remonstratedwith Varden. "To como hero from sucha horrible place!"
"Sir John, Sir John!" said Varden."Hear me! To-mbrrOW Hie man mustdie. Hear me, for i have somethingterrible to tell yon.-' Heedless of Mr.r'hester'.M further efforts to Interrupthim, he told how Hugh and the hang-
man. occupying tho Famo cell, hadexchanged confidences; how Dennis re¬membered hanging Hugh's mother;how tho woman had told him, on thogallows tho name of the father of herson.
"My dear .Mr. Varden!" began SirJohn raising a cup of chocolate dainti¬ly to his lips."Do not hope to deceive moV cried
Varden, earnestly, "l know that yuu
HUGH AND DENNIS IN JA Iii.(From original Illustration by Fred Barnard.)
are eure what name -n-as uttered onihn sallows. I know that you believethis doomed man. Hugh, to be yourson!''The knight finished his cup of cho-
colate steadily, and wiped his lips.And to what," said he, adjusting his,pillow for greater luxury, "My dear,good-natured estlmablo Mr. Varden,!does all this tend :"
"Pave him! Save him!" cried Varden."Strain every nerve In behalf of yourmiserable son, strain every inlluenceyou have! I lake you to be a man!""And have you really lived to your!
present age my good -Mr. Varden." soldChester In a tone of mild reproof, "andremained so simple as to believe des- jperato men In their last extremity.;rat-.-hiiig at any straw? Oh. lie. tie! Onany other subject I shall be delighte I.charmed, to converse with you; but;II owe !t to my own character not to!I pursue <hls topie for another moment,'*]He kissed his delicate hand gracefullyi as a token of dismissal, and tin. man.
I giving Sir John one look, withdrew."So she kept her word!" murmured,j (.'luster, alone, lie looked suddenly{jh'ae^^rd. 'This affair would make ill
fnoihr. if :i resic.j ,.n better evidenceI But I wiii not Join the fettered links'of the chain, and can afford to slight 1I It. Extremely distressing to be thojj parent ,.r .such an uncouth chealnre!]'Still. I gave him Very nood advice. 1]told him hie would certainly bo hanged,(.There are a great many fathers whonever have done as much for tholi
I natural children." fie rang his bellto have his hair dressed,j Ho listened next day to the cityclocks-Hooahing out tho hour of noon.!When they had ceased, he knew that|Hugh was dead, lie went abroad thatevening the same polished gentlemanthat he always had been, unruffled,genial, smiling.
lie remained unruffled even when'
ho learned that Edward Chester hadI married Emma Haredale with the freeani Riad permission of her uncle, \\ !u»had come to know and rcsp-.'ct litt'young man so Well that it broke downhis hatred of the Cheater race.
"1 have lived n mistaken life," saidMr. Haredale. "I have broken, whore1 should have beut. I have mustdalone when my spirit should havemixed ivlth all öod's great creationThe men who learn endurance arethey who call the whole world brother.1 turned from the world, and 1 paythe penalty."
in another month, Haredale wasalone in (jondnn. Kdward had takenhis young tvifp to the West Indies.he had found opportunity for a career.
Older and more care-worn than he«fore, Mr. Ifarcdalc now had nothingto tie him to the world. Resides hlalove for his niece, only one otherpurpose had absorbed him for manyyears. That was, to Und his brother'*-murderer: and In this ho had succeeded.He had taken tho man during; the rlotawith his own hands, had seen hin»tried, and hail watched while theyhanged him. This accomplished', I»
determined to carry out- an old, vagueplan, and to seek retreat in some, rellg-.ions order.He wished to look once, morj on the
walls of hl3 old house befors he leftthe world forever. Even as he thoughtof this, somo heavy foreboding, avague, formless gloom, seemed to warnhim.The next day wtrsn he started away
from his lodgings, a waiter ran. afterhim and brought him his sword, whichhe had left behind. "Why have youbrought it to me?" asked Mr. Hare-dale, stretching out his hand and stillnot taking it. The man, bewilderedby his disturbed and agitated manner,murmured something aoout tho dangerof the roads. Mr. Haredale took thesword and put it up at his side.
It was evening when he reached thehouse, a calm and peaceful evening,with a radiant sunset sky. Againstthe softened colors the blackened min«looked all the more mournful.
Haredale had made nearly the circuit<:f the ruins, when ho stopped stillwith a half-auppresacd exclamation.Reclining In an easy attitude againsta :.-ee and contemplating the des¬truction with exquisite pleasure, b»for«him, on his own ground, and trluinp-Ing over him then as he had done inevery misfortune and disappointmentof his life, stood sir John Chester.Although his blood so rose that hecould have struck him dead, Hareduloput a tierce constraint on himself andwould have passed without a word or[look. He would have passed, throughIt required an effort scarcely humanto resist the Devil that tempted himwithin. Hawould have gone on; butthe man himself called to him to stop,and that with such assumed eompas-Slon In his voice that It drova him well-nlght mad."How very picturesque this is'." said
Sir John, and raised his glass to hiseye.
"I would," said Haredale. almost inagony. "I would with all my soul thatyou had been in Paradise (if such amonstrous He could bo enacted) ratherthan hero to-night. Your agents havebetrayed you. With hints, and looks,and crafty words, which told again,are nothing, you set on tlioso whohated me to do this work. With thesesame hints, and looks and crafty words*you put It Into their minds to abductmy niece. You did! I seo denial Inyour face. Denial is a lie'.'"The knight, with a contemptuous
smile, replied to him with a sarcasticspeech. Mr. Harcdalo cried: "Cold¬blooded, hollow, false villlnn. I spurnyou like a faithless dog-:" and struckhim.
Sir John threw away his scabbardand his hat. and rushed at him, mak¬ing so desperate a lunge at his heartthat, had Ilnredalc's guard not beenllghtnlng-liku and true. It would havastretched him dead.Even In that Instant. Haredale put
a stop on hi;-, rage, lie parried thorapid thrusts without returning them,and called out, with a kind of franticterror on Ills face: "Not to-nlgiit! InGod's name, not to-night'"Both lowered their weapons. "I warn
you!'' cried Haredale. "Not to-night!Me warned In time!""Did you believe that your every
look and wotd was not to be account'dfor. and was not well remembered?"asked Sir John deliberately, thoughnow ho dropped his mask and showedbis bitter hatred.
"((nee mor >," cried his opponent, "IImplore yoif not to come within reachof my sword to-night! Oh, why havawo met? To-morrow would have castus far apart forever!""That being the ease," replied Chcs-
t -r "It is very fortunate that we havemet. I am sorry to Und you a coward."
Not another word was spoken. Thoyattacked each other fiercely. Thoywi re matched. Though Haredale hadadvantage of strength and height,Chester had the superior skill and ccr-tain'y superior coolness.
After a few exchanges, they grewho tt :. and more fur Each Inflict>d
r < lvrd slight wounds. Directlytter reiving one of theso In bis arm,
le, making a keener thrust asfelt the warm blood spurting out,ngod his sword through his oppon-
nt's body till the Made was stoppedby the hilt.
Their eyes met. and were on eachother, as he drew It out. He put hlaarm about the dying man, who re¬pulsed him, feebly, and dropped uponthe lur.'. Raising himself upon hishands, he gaz2d at Haredale for anInstant, with scorn and hatred In hlalook, but, as if hi reine inhered, eventhen, that this expression would dis¬tort his features, ho tried to smile, andfell hack. dead.
(Copyright, 1913, by J. W. Mailer,)
