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CHAPTER II.--THE MOTH AND THE CANDLE

Word Count: 2371    |    Released on: 17/11/2017

and we separated, intending to mature our plans after morning parade next day, as I knew that secretly Cara

or leave, and desiring Evans to take it to the orderly-room among his first duties on the morrow, threw open a second window to admit the soft breeze

d, encamped in the vale of Aladdyn, between Varna and the sea. There camp-fever and the terrible cholera were filling fast with graves the grassy plain and all the Valley of the Plague, as the Bulgarians so aptly named it; and though I was not sorry to escape the perils encountered where no honour could be won, I was pretty weary of the daily round at Winchester, of barrack life, of in-lying pickets, guards, parades, and drill. I had been seven years in the service, and deemed myself somewhat of a veteran, though only five-and-twenty. I was weary too of belonging to a provisional battalion, wherein, beyond the narrow circle of one's own dep?t, no two men have the slight

ite regarded me in the light of one; and having two daughters, desired nothing more than that I should cut the service and become one in reality. So many an act of friendship and many a piece of stamped paper he had done for me, when in the first years of my career, I got into scrapes with rogues upon the turf, at billiards, and with those curses of all barracks, the children of Judea. Had I seen where my own good fortune re

ondon, been introduced to, and had met at several places, this identical Lady Cressingham, whom my friend had mentioned so incidentally and

tters; and though it seems as if it was on her very smile that the mainspring of my existence turned, the whole affair might be but a source of quiet amusement, of curiosity, or gratified vanity to her. Yet, by every opportunity that the chances and artificial system of society in town afforded, I had evinced this passion, the boldness of which my secret heart confessed. Her portrait, a stately full-length, was in the Academy, and how often had I gazed at

hat wealth and rank confer--came floating before me, with the memory of words half-uttered, and glances responded to when eye met eye, and told so much more than the tongue might venture to utter. Was it mere vanity, or reality, that made me think her smile had brightened when she met me, or that when I rode by her side she preferred me to the many others who daily pressed forward t

erk's son, o

g's daughter

t defeat and rejection might cover me with certain ridicule, leaving the stings of wounded self-esteem to rankle all the deeper, by thrusting the partial disparity of our relative positions in society more unpleasantly and humiliatingly before me and the world; for there is a snobbery in rank that is only equalled by the snobbery of wealth, and here I might have both to encounter. And so, as I brooded over these things, some very levelling and rather democratic, if not entirely Communal, ideas began to occur to me. And yet, for the Countess and those who set store upon such empty facts, I could have proved my descent from Nicholas Hardinge, knight,

within their magic influence once more, and doubtless to be hopelessly lost. To have acted wisely, I should have declined the invitation and pleaded military duty; yet to see her once, to be with her once again, without that cordon of guardsmen and cavaliers who daily formed her mounted escort in Rotten-row, and with all the

wn ideas, or were they her personally expressed wish put literally into writing? Were they but the reflex of some casual remark? Even that conviction would bring me happiness. And so, after my friends left me, I sat

success, when I had none? The idea was too ridiculous; for I had heard whispers of this man before, in London and about the clubs, where he was generally deemed to be a species of adventurer, the exact source of whose revenue no on

n a flood of silver sheen. Ere long the full-orbed moon--that seemed to float in beauty beneath its snow-white clouds, looking calmly down on Winchester, even as she had done ages ago, ere London was a capital, and when the white city was the seat of England's Saxon, Danish, and Norman dynasties, of Alfre

ver a possible future, and to hope that if the stars were propitious, at the altar of that somewhat dingy fane, St. George's, Hanover-square, I might yet become the son-in-law of the late Earl of Naseby, Baron Cressingham of Cotteswold, in the county of Northampton, and of Walcot Park in Hants, Lord-lieutenant, custos rotulorum, and so forth, as I

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Contents

CHAPTER I.--THE INVITATION CHAPTER II.--THE MOTH AND THE CANDLE CHAPTER III--By EXPRESS CHAPTER IV.--WINNY AND DORA LLOYD CHAPTER V.--CRAIGADERYN COURT CHAPTER VI.--THREE GRACES CHAPTER VII.--PIQUE CHAPTER VIII.--SUNDAY AT CRAIGADERYN CHAPTER IX.-THE INITIALS CHAPTER X.--A PERILOUS RAMBLE CHAPTER XI.--THE FêTE CHAMPETRE
CHAPTER XII.--ON THE CLIFFS
CHAPTER XIII.--A PROPOSAL
CHAPTER XIV.--THE UNFORESEEN
CHAPTER XV.--WHAT THE MOON SAW
CHAPTER XVI.--THE SECRET ENGAGEMENT
CHAPTER XVII.--WHAT FOLLOWED IT
CHAPTER XVIII.--GUILFOYLE
CHAPTER XIX.--TWO LOVES FOR ONE HEART
CHAPTER XX.-FEARS
CHAPTER XXI .-GEORGETTE FRANKLIN
CHAPTER XXII.--GEORGETTE FRANKLIN'S STORY
CHAPTER XXIII.--TURNING THE TABLES
CHAPTER XXIV.--BITTER THOUGHTS
CHAPTER XXV.--SURPRISES
CHAPTER XXVI.--WITHOUT PURCHASE
CHAPTER XXVII.--RECONCILIATION
CHAPTER XXVIII.--ON BOARD THE URGENT
CHAPTER XXIX.-- ICH DIEN.
CHAPTER XXX.--NEWS OF BATTLE
CHAPTER XXXI.-UNDER CANVAS
CHAPTER XXXII.--IN THE TRENCHES
CHAPTER XXXIII.-THE FLAG OF TRUCE
CHAPTER XXXIV.--GUILFOYLE REDIVIVUS
CHAPTER XXXV.--THE NIGHT BEFORE INKERMANN
CHAPTER XXXVI.--THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER
CHAPTER XXXVII.--THE ANGEL OF HORROR
CHAPTER XXXVIII.--THE CAMP AGAIN
CHAPTER XXXIX.--A MAIL FROM ENGLAND
CHAPTER XL.--A PERILOUS DUTY
CHAPTER XLI.--THE CARAVANSERAI
CHAPTER XLII.--THE TCHERNIMORSKI COSSACKS
CHAPTER XLIII.--WINIFRED'S SECRET
CHAPTER XLIV.--THE CASTLE OF YALTA
CHAPTER XLV.--EVIL TIDINGS
CHAPTER XLVI.--DELILAH
CHAPTER XLVII.--VALERIE VOLHONSKI
CHAPTER XLVIII.--THE THREATS OF TOLSTOFF
CHAPTER XLIX.--BETROTHED
CHAPTER L.--CAUGHT AT LAST
CHAPTER LI.--FLIGHT
CHAPTER LII.--BEFORE SEBASTOPOL STILL
CHAPTER LIII.--NEWS FROM CRAIGADERYN
CHAPTER LIV.--THE ASSAULT
CHAPTER LV.--INSIDE THE REDAN
CHAPTER LVI.--A SUNDAY MORNING IN THE CRIMEA
CHAPTER LVII.--IN THE MONASTERY OF ST. GEORGE
CHAPTER LVIII.--HOME
CHAPTER LIX.-- A DREAM WHICH WAS NOT ALL A DREAM.
CHAPTER LX.--A HONEYMOON
CHAPTER LXI.-- FOR VALOUR.
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