THE

CORNHILL MAGAZINE.

SEPTEMBER, 1878.

"For Percival."

CHAPTER XLII.

WALKING TO ST. SYLVESTER'S.

ERTIE LISLE was sorely driven and perplexed, for a few days after his triumphant performance on the organ. His letter was not a failure, but further persuasion was required to make his success complete; and during the brief interval he was persecuted by Gordon's brother.

Mr. William Gordon, when amiable and flattering, had an air of rough and hearty friendliness which was very well, as long as you held him in check. But when, though still amiable, he thought he might begin to take liberties, it was not so well. He was hard, coarse-tongued, and humorous. And when Mr. William Gordon had the upper hand, he showed himself in his true colours, as a bully and a blackguard. Bertie Lisle, not yet two-and-twenty, was no match for this man of thirty

five. He owed him money-no great sum-but more than he could pay. Now that matters had come to this pass, Lisle was heartily YOL. XXXVIII. NO. 225.

13.

ashamed of himself, his debts, and his associates; but the more shame he felt, the more anxious he was that nothing should be known. He had sought the society of these men because he had wearied of the restraints of his home life. Judith checked and controlled him unconsciously, through her very guilelessness. He might have had his liberty in a moment had he chosen, but the assertion of his right would have involved explanations and questions, and Bertie hated scenes. He found it easier to coax Lydia than to face Judith.

But this state of affairs could not go on. Bertie had once fancied that he saw a possible way out of his difficulties, and had hinted to Gordon, with an air of mystery, that though he could not pay at once, he thought he might soon be in a position to pay all. If he hoped to silence his creditors for awhile with this vague promise, he was mistaken. Gordon continually reminded him of it. He had not cared to inquire into the source of the coming wealth, but if Lisle meant to rob somebody's till, or forge Mr. Clifton's name to a cheque, no doubt Gordon thought he might as well do it, and get it over. If you are going to take a plunge, what, in the name of common sense, is the good of standing shivering on the brink?

Unluckily, Lisle's idea presented difficulties on closer inspection. But as he had gone so far that it was his only hope, he made up his mind to risk all. He saw but one possible way of carrying out his scheme. It was exactly the way which no cautious man would ever have dreamed of taking, and therefore it suited the daring inexperience of the boy. Therefore, also, it was precisely what no one would dream of guarding against. In fact, Bertie was driven, by stress of circumstances, into a stroke of genius. He took his leap, and entered on a period of suspense, anxiety, and sustained excitement, which had a wild exhilaration and sense of recklessness in it. He suffered much from a strong desire to burst into fits of unseasonable laughter. His nerves were so tensely strung that it might have been expected he would be irritable, and so he was sometimes; but never with Judith.

Thorne listened, night after night, for the man with the latch-key; but he listened in vain. He was only partly reassured, for he feared that matters were not going on well at St. Sylvester's. Indeed, he knew they were not, for Bertie had strolled into his room one day, with a face like a thundercloud. The young fellow was out of temper, and perhaps a little off his guard in consequence. When Gordon amused himself by baiting him, Lisle was forced to keep silence; but in this case it was possible, if not quite prudent, to allow himself the relief of speech. "What is the matter?" said Percival, looking up from his book.

Bertie, who had turned his back on him, stood looking out of the window, and tapping a tune on the pane. "What's the matter?" he repeated. "Clifton has taken it into his stupid head to lecture me about some rubbish he has heard somewhere. Why doesn't some one lock him up in an idiot asylum? The meddling fool!"

"If that is qualification enough"-Thorne began, mildly, but Bertie raged on.

"What business is it of his? I'm not going to stand his impudence, as I'll precious soon let him know. A likely story! He didn't buy me body and soul for his paltry salary, though he seems to think it! The old humbug in a cassock! It's a great deal of preaching and very little practice with him, I know."

(He knew nothing of the kind. Mr. Clifton was a well-meaning man, who had never disturbed his mind by analysing his own opinions nor anyone else's, and who worked conscientiously in his parish, But no doubt Bertie had too much respect for truth to let it be mixed up with a fit of ill-temper.)

"Take care what you are about," said Percival, as he turned a leaf. He looked absently at the next page. "I don't want to interfere with

you

"Oh, you; that's different," said Lisle, without looking round. "Not that I should recommend even you"

"Don't finish-I hope the caution isn't needed. Of course you will do as you think best. You are your own master, but I know you'll not forget that it is a question of your sister's bread as well as your own. That's all. If you can do better for her"

Bertie half smiled, but still he looked out of the window, and he did not speak. Presently the fretful tapping on the pane ceased, and he began to whistle the same tune very pleasantly. At last, after some time, the tune stopped altogether.

"I believe I'm a fool," said Lisle. "After all, what harm can Clifton do to me? And, as you say, it would be a pity to make Judith uneasy. Bless the stupid prig, he shall lecture me again to-morrow if he likes! He hasn't broken any bones this time, and I daresay he won't the next." The young fellow came lounging across the room, with his hands in his pockets, as he spoke. "I suppose he has gone on preaching till it's his second nature. Talk of the girl in the fairy tale, dropping toads and things from her lips-why, she was a trifle to old Clifton! I do think he can't open his mouth without letting a sermon run out!"

Thorne was relieved at the turn Bertie's meditations had taken, but he could not think that the young fellow's position at St. Sylvester's was very secure. Neither did Judith. Neither did Bertie himself. The thought did not trouble him, but Judith was evidently anxious.

"You do too much," said Percival one day to her. They were walking to St. Sylvester's, and Bertie had run back for some music which had been forgotten.

"Perhaps," said Judith simply. "But it can't be helped."

"What, are they all so busy at Standon Square?"

"Well, the holidays being so near make more work—and give one the strength to get through it."