with your own past life. Bend your mind
to a portrait in the abstract, an anonymous
personage, type, if you will, that of the
lover of justice, the patriot, the champion
of our afflicted race. ""

She had removed her chair a little farther under the shadow of the windowcurtain, and, with head bowed down and face averted, listened for what he should say. She was bound to hear him, and in silence. It had become plain to her that remonstrance was futile, words ineffectual as children's dams raised to keep back the tide. He was unreachable, unanswerable.

"You approve our ends-at least, I take it for granted that you have not so far forsworn your country," he began; "but you abhor our means. That I take to be your position. Do you, then, expect miracles in these days-angelic battalions, Heaven sent, to smite the oppressor, plagues to strike terror into the minds of the multitude, horrible natural phenomena to bring all on their knees? No, my poor girl; you and I, and every man, woman, and child of our unhappy race, must at last recognise one fact: Deliverance can only come from ourselves. We have no hope but in the hate born of deadliest wrong, and the resistance engendered of despair. Union first, force afterwards; these are the only weapons that we can wield to any purpose. You do not pretend to deny it."

"But the snares laid in the dark, the fatal traps set so stealthily! It is a perpetual nightmare to me," cried Bernarda; "you are not at warfare with fiends, but human beings. Be merciful! Keep your hands from shedding blood."

He smiled grimly. "Was the French Revolution merciful? Did not the innocent suffer for the guilty then? Understand me, Erna, I am a humane man, a lover of peace; the bare notion of shedding human blood is odious to me; yet were I called upon in this sacred, this awful cause, to connive at the destruction of an entire city-aye, were it London itself, I should say, not the vindictiveness of man, but the indignation of Heaven has spoken!"

Horror-stricken, fascinated, electrified by the fervour of his utterances, she looked up now, and saw that at last he was allow ing passion to have its way. His voice gathered in volume and emphasis, his wellproportioned figure seemed to take larger dimensions, his dark eyes flashed fierce, scornful light.

[Conducted by

I am at

this moment loathsome to you; yet hear "You shrink back appalled. me out. We revolutionists, called upon to redress wrongs that outrage humanity, selves. have no resource but so to unman ourstrip off the last vestige of weakness ere We must shut our hearts to pity, we are fit for our work. But there is selfabnegation here, and self-abnegation is ever a kind of nobleness! myself to grow dark, desperate, reckless of I have allowed consequences. by so doing? Am I happier? Should I Do I better my own case from choice, think you, league myself with sale murder-join the fellowship of desperamidnight assassins and contrivers of wholedoes who would give me my death-stab to-morrow if I betrayed them? necessities, I admit, are frightful, and, up These to a certain point, demoralising; yet they have another side. Here is a man-I may aver so much of myself-naturally of humane instincts, sensitive as to right and wrong, fastidious in his dealings with others, whom injustice has turned, if not into a monster or a blackguard, at least into a desperado. Mark you, my good girl, I am conscious of the transformation, although I no longer rebel against it-you for one will believe that I have hearkened not to inclination but to sternest duty. Think how much I give up-all that men most prize-peaceful years, the in exchange for what? respect of others, a stainless memory-and imprisonment, or something worse and Maybe exile, better."

exaltation, and defiance, caused Bernarda A strange expression, made up of scorn, to turn tremblingly towards him, awaithorror. It came like a thunder-clap. For ing the climax in undefined dread and a moment she felt awed, shamed out of personal feeling, drawn towards him by an impulse she could not explain.

name that I bear, so honourable hitherto,
"You must know what I mean. This
may, in my own person, be befouled by a
felon's end. Yet"-here he spoke with
overmastering passion-" do not think for
a moment that the disgrace would be felt
die for our people were, in my eyes, a holy
as such by me. Thus ignominiously to
martyrdom.
country woman if you are not ready to
You are no longer my
share such glory-such shame!"

even sublimity in the storm of patriotic
There was contagion in his enthusiasm---
ardour to which he had surrendered him-
self. But although her feelings were

2000.

"I am ready," she said, controlling her emotion, "not to share your guilt, Edgeworth-never ask that onl Will you make such a pact with me? Will you bind yourself to respect my convictions, as I will promise to respect yours?"

He rose, and standing before her, looked down into her face, smiling contentedly, perhaps a little ironically.

"Nay, Erna, I never asked you to share my guilt, as you put it. One life I have to lead, apart even from a wife. Then all is settled so far; so take this, and this."

So saying, he dropped once more a careless kiss on her forehead, and drawing from his purse a little gold ring, set with a shamrock in fine emeralds, with which were mingled a pearl or two-dewdrops, placed it on the fourth finger of her left hand.

worked upon, she did not give way. His ntterances lifted her out of the common, harmless world, not into his own. She was as far as ever from sympathising with his means, however she might approve his ends. He had, moreover, recalled those artyrdoms, as he designated them, of less her souls so familiar in these days. Ghastly visions aitted before her mind's eye of the sad processing that issue at dawn from prison-walls-the condamned, shorn and shriven, supported by the priest, the automatic ministers of justice, the horrid paraphernalia, the brutality with which all ends. How much more pitiable the fate of these blind instruments and obscure tools than that of their haughty leaders! Her opinions were like Edgeworth's-immovable. Nothing he could say would alter her abhorrence of his theories; but the man himself, the conspirator, inspired a feeling akin to admiration. There came in a moment-no "There is yet something I have to say," Heaven-sent inspiration, no illuminating he said; "and when I have said it, supflash of genius, swifter, less expected-a pose-suppose--" He wiped the sweat thought to guide her out of her dilemma, from his handsome brow, and leaned back as far as her former lover was concerned. in his armchair with a sense of relief. She had let him come to-day, and without can never talk calmly of these matters," he having herself arrived at any decision. said. "We will keep them in the backEvery word he had spoken during the last ground for the future-at least, from half-hour but strengthened an instinctive an argumentative point of view. conviction that this interview would be purpose is served by thus agitating ourtheir last, and that she could not, because selves, and talking in such high-pitched she dared not, ally herself with Edgeworth's strain parches the throat-makes one destiny. But, on a sudden, and without thirsty." any warning, she saw herself brought to the very conclusion that had lately seemed impossible. No middle way remained.

Friendship was possible with him-the easy intercourse of two exiles, two early friends; there were many ways in which, as an outsider, she might brighten his daily existence-perhaps, in some slight degree, influence and guide him. But only as his wife could she share those dark and stormy fortunes. Only as his wife could she hope to bend that iron purpose, save him, and, perhaps, how many others, from impending doom! Afterwards, when she had laid down for herself a definite line of action, and was able to account for every one of her motives in dealing with Edgeworth, she wondered at the promptitude with which she had answered him.

"I

No

He glanced archly at a little silver kettle on the buffet, and added:

"Suppose, my dear, you make me a cup of tea.

CHAPTER VI. ONE CONFIDENCE MORE.

BERNARDA lighted the spirit-lamp under her silver kettle, and, drawing out a tiny table, set out the tea-things. This prosaic yet graceful task was welcome after the excitement she had just gone through, and, seeing Edgeworth thus able to talk smoothly and unemotionally of their own affairs, she determined to betray no more feeling throughout the remainder of their interview. Collectedness should be met by collectedness, indifference by indifference.

"It pained you to think I had never cared for you, you said just now," he Light had flashed upon the dark path began, as, with his limbs spread out in an she was to follow, but it only made the attitude of repose, his hands in his pockets, darkness more inscrutable and portentous. he contentedly watched her make the tea. An inner voice had spoken, not syren-sweet," Well, I certainly never cared for you as but direful and foreboding. you deserved, but I never became the

He shook off his lazy mood, raised himself in his chair, and again became alert and emphatic.

"What if they are, since in a few weeks we shall be married? And do shut up your workroom, my dear girl. Why toil and moil any longer? I have enough and to spare for both of us."

Shut up my workroom!" Bernarda cried, aghast. Not till the very last moment, Edgeworth. You done know what happy hours I spend here." But those "As you ples, of course. fine day you hinted at just now-will you guarantee them, balmy reminders of an Indian summer in November? No, my dear; a fireside talk is much more seductive, and these symbolic little cups make the thing very complete. I hope you keep them for true patriots like myself?"

"Why, indeed! My career is the best answer. What business had I, the rover, the conspirator, with a wife? For, hardly had I reached the other side of the Atlantic "They would not often be called into when I wildly took up those ideas which requisition if I did," Bernarda said with have since shaped my career. I purposely a caustic smile. "And what would my avoided correspondence with you. I said habitual guests say if they knew who was to myself, 'She will forget me; I shall drinking out of one at this very moment?" forget her. Let it be.' You see, men in He laughed frankly and heartily. my case belong to their causes, their leaders, or instruments-not to themselves at all, and in those first reckless, exciting American years, marriage was out of the question. Things, however, altered. I inherited money, an estate, as you do not know. The course of events called me to Europe. The rest you know."

He now produced a little card, on which was printed:

"Bernarda Burke, Artist in Flower Embroidery, Holly House, Chelsea."

"At an exhibition held in New York two or three years ago, I came upon a little stand devoted to your handiwork, and the stall-keeper gave me this. I made up my mind then that, if ever my fortunes mended, I would ask you to forget and forgive, and marry me."

She made no reply. What reply, indeed, was there to make? Assent was evidently all he needed, and that she had given. The ring with its impearled shamrock glittered on her finger. The fragile china cup she now handed to him had a shamrock too.

"How pleasant to pledge each other in a cup of tea!" he said; and you are a mistress in the art of making it, Erna. Come, now, every Sunday you will invite me at this hour, won't you-every Sunday till-you understand?

"Would not a stroll out of doors be better on fine days? I could meet you in the park," Bernarda made reply. "Do not accuse me of inhospitality-I delight in receiving my friends-but your visits might be remarked."

"Who are your habitual guests? Describe them categorically. It interests me," he said. “Then in turn I will tell you some of the adventures that have befallen me since we met last. We have plenty to talk about. By the way

Here he set down his tea-cup, rose, and bending down, examined the pansy so beautifully adorning her fichu of old Irish lace.

"Do you never change your flower? Is it because we pledged each other with a pansy exchanged a flower because we had no money for rings on our betrothal day years ago?"

Bernarda was unready with her response, and, meantime, he coolly as before removed the blossom from its resting-place, and examined it minutely, holding it in various positions.

"Has it never struck you that there is a death's-head in this flower? Look at those dark spots as I hold it thus. Nothing was ever better defined. Throw the evil augury away, and wear my rose instead. 'Tis of happier omen than a death's head."

If it was so ordained that those who willed it might live for ever," Bernarda said again with one of her sarcastic smiles. She let him, however, unceremoniously replace the pansy by a magnificent Gloire de Dijon from the vase. Then he passed on to other topics, never reverting to his unanswered question.

"I have not said half that I had to say," he said, as he stood on the hearthrug, hat and stick in hand, ready to go. "There is

the Tycoon! Out with the foreigners! The sacred soil of old Japan shall not be polluted!" It was only when they found we would not go, and had had a taste of the thunder from our "black ships," ," that the Old Japan party executed a wonderful right-aboutface, and went in for changes of which the Tycoon had never dreamed. Their notion was to learn all about our wonderful ways, and then to beat us with our own weapons. Some of them did not see it at first. There was the Prince of Chosiu, for instance, premier daimio after the Tycoon, who, when the Tycoon began coquetting with foreigners, threw off his allegiance, and brushed up his old forts, intending to make a stand against us single-handed. And he would have done it, but for two very young samurai (two-sworded retainers), so clever, that they were already high in his counsels. "Let us spy out these English in their home, and see what is the secret of their power," they said; and they pleaded so well that the Prince placed a thousand pounds with Jardine, Matheson, and Company to pay for their expenses. and Inouyé stole away-it was death for So Ito Jap to leave his own country-and shipped at Shanghai as common sailors on board the Pegasus. Jack did not show them the best side of his character. That he should kick and hustle them for not doing what they had never learnt to do was natural; but finding they had fifty dollars, he started card playing in the forecastle, giving the foreigners the alternative of being cuffed or of joining in the play. The poor fellows did not like to lose their money, so they held out till their heads ached and their backs were sore. they joined; but as it was " Heads I win, At last tails you lose," they were soon eased of all their dollars except three, which one of them had managed to secrete.

Inouyé, now prime minister of Japan, told the story to Mr. Lucy, the author of "East by West." What he felt most of all, however, was the conduct of a baker near the London Docks. As soon as the ship came in everyone else went off. The Japs seemed left to starve. the three dollars? Ah, but ashore to search for food, and at last, So Inouyé went despite the strangeness of the shops, his instinct told him that loaves were eatable. "But what does a big loaf cost? I'd better put down all the three dollars; the honest man will give me back the surplus." But no, the Christian baker rang one of the strange coins on his counter, and finding

[Conducted by

it real silver, swept all three into the till, shook his head, and gave no change. Fortunately Jardine's messenger came next day. But the two soon found that the secret of England's power was not to be learned in a hasty visit; they heard, too, that their Prince, deprived of their wise counsels, was getting restless-he did soon after shut up against us his Straits of Shimonoseki, and got bombarded for his pains-so, feeling they were wanted at home, they applied for passage-money. But Jardine said: "No; the thousand pounds were to keep you in England, not to send you back." away as before, and shipped as able seaWhereupon they stole men in a sailing-vessel that took them the tremendous round by the Cape. However, they got back at last, and helped a great deal in bringing about this great and sudden change, to which the world's history can show no parallel.

only affects the Court-it does affect It is, indeed, a great change. It not that, for the Mikado, whom in old days garden - parties and dances-but almost no one even dared to look upon, gives the whole population. mation and Suppression of the MonasIt was a Reforteries as well as a Restoration. The old people, indeed, are as devout as ever. Hundreds of them spend their whole day in a temple, dropping "cash" into the alms-boxes, ringing the bell or striking the gong whereby the attention of the god or saint is called to each particular worshipper, and praying first at one shrine and then at another. allow their aged parents so much a week Dutiful children Mr. Faulds, whose Nine Years in Nipon is to spend in this way. On the other hand, as good in its way as Consul Mitford's delicious Tales of Old Japan, tells us how audience, and felt that he was appreciated. he lectured on Darwinism to a select

Thus an eye-witness tells me some lads There is an ugly side, too, to the change. bought a "life-preserving-charm" from a really pious priest, tied it to a dog, shot him dead, and then sent him to the priest, paper and all. It was "bad form," that which many of the priests have stripped dog business. But worse is the way in their temples of old lamps, priceless bronze incense-vases, wood-carving, sacred pictures

triptychs, made to fold over, just like those in use in the Roman Church-and even of holy books. One hears of a Jew carrying away a brig load of "curios" bought for a mere song, much of it temple furniture,