Part 15
He stepped to the hearth and took up her wretched little jacket that had lain there a-drying, handing it to her clumsily. Her last words echoed in his ears.
She took the jacket, and pushed her poor, thin arms into its shrunken sleeves; it was damp still, and it would not meet, even across her narrow chest.
“The luck’ll turn,” he repeated awkwardly. “It allers do turn—one way or t’other. Ye must try for work again at Hoo, yonder. There’s another factory there.”
“Seems as though God A’mighty did ought to give me another chance,” she said with a sigh, “if it were on’y for this. For I shan’t be able to pay ye back else.”
He had opened the cranky door, and they had passed out into the moonlit frostiness.
“Never think o’ that,” said he.
“I shall though,” she declared. “Ye must show me your ’ome, so as I shall know where to find ye to pay it back agin—when I do get work.”
“My ’ome!” echoed he.
And he turned and looked at the deserted cottage with its closed, silent windows.
From the chimney a faint line of smoke from the remnants of the fire that he had lit was stealing up straight into the calm, cold air—ascending steadily, like incense, into the sky.
He caught his breath.
“This’d be the best place,” he said. “I’ll come ’ere next Saturday night and see if ye’re anywheres about. I’d like to ’ear ’ow ye was a-gettin’ on, but I don’t want the money.”
They had crossed the garden by this time, and stood at the gate.
“I shan’t rest till I can bring it ye though,” said she. “I ’aven’t never borrowed from nobody afore. That was why ... _you know_...! P’r’aps I didn’t ought to ha’ took it now. But it seemed as though ... well, it seemed as though, if yer pulled me out o’ the water, I’d _got_ to keep the life in me! I couldn’t ha’ felt like taking it from no one else, I think. But there, ye’re a good sort, and I’ll owe it to you. But I’ll pay you—s’elp me God.”
She shoved the gate open and went out into the road, he following.
“A good sort!” He “a good sort!” An hour ago he would ... no, not have _laughed_; he would have sworn, to say the very least of it, at any one who had dared to say such a thing; for he would have known they meant it as an insult. But he neither laughed nor swore at this woman. He simply stood still and looked at her.
The clock in the church steeple up the stream struck ten.
“Ye’ll ’ave to look sharp,” said he, “or no one won’t take ye in to-night.”
She was shivering in the bitter air, and she could walk but slowly; still she walked alone.
He moved a few steps beside her, then stopped.
A sudden instinct that he could not have defined bade him send her on her way alone.
“Ye’ll do now,” said he, “won’t ye? Them’s the cottages—up there to yer right. You knock at the first door—there’s an old woman lives there—she used to be mother’s chum. She’d take ye in, if ’twas for nothing, but that ... if she only knowed....”
Nat blushed, and he was not in the habit of blushing, and stammered as he was not in the habit of stammering, for he did not know how to finish his sentence.
“Well, anyways ye’ve got the money,” concluded he, “and if it comes to that—there’s a ‘public’ at Hoo where they lets out beds. So you look sharp.”
“Good-night; and thank ye,” said the girl.
“Good-night,” answered he.
“I shan’t forget what you done for me,” said she.
“Oh, stow that,” he said.
He watched her as she moved slowly along: watched her till she had turned up the lane to the cluster of cottages, and waited to see if she would come back on it.
He put his hand in his pocket to feel for his pipe and matches; the matches were gone, and he remembered that he had used them to light the fire—yonder in his old home, on the hearth where his mother had been wont to boil the pot for his supper.
He turned and looked again.
The trail of smoke from the old chimney was thinner and fainter—but it was still there—ascending softly and steadily.
His heart was lighter at the sight of it, and he whistled gently to himself.
The girl had not reappeared; she must be housed and safe by now.
He set his face back whence he had come, and went on his way content.
A little bird twittered pitifully in the frost-bound hedge as he passed.
He searched for the place and found it; it was dying of cold and hunger.
He put it in his warm bosom within his coat; he thought that he would feed it when he got in, and that perhaps he might bring it back to life.
THE END
_Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, London & Bungay._
THE MANXMAN
BY HALL CAINE
_In One Volume, price 6s._
=The Times.=—‘With the exception of _The Scapegoat_, this is unquestionably the finest and most dramatic of Mr. Hall Caine’s novels ... _The Manxman_ goes very straight to the roots of human passion and emotion. It is a remarkable book, throbbing with human interest.’
=The Guardian.=—‘A story of exceptional power and thorough originality. The greater portion of it is like a Greek tragic drama, in the intensity of its interest, and the depth of its overshadowing gloom.... But this tragedy is merely a telling background for a series of brilliant sketches of men and manners, of old-world customs, and forgotten ways of speech which still linger in the Isle of Man.’
=The Standard.=—‘A singularly powerful and picturesque piece of work, extraordinarily dramatic.... Taken altogether, _The Manxman_ cannot fail to enhance Mr. Hall Caine’s reputation. It is a most powerful book.’
=The Morning Post.=—‘If possible, Mr. Hall Caine’s work, _The Manxman_, is more marked by passion, power, and brilliant local colouring than its predecessors.... It has a grandeur as well as strength, and the picturesque features and customs of a delightful country are vividly painted.’
=The World.=—‘Over and above the absorbing interest of the story, which never flags, the book is full of strength, of vivid character sketches, and powerful word-painting, all told with a force and knowledge of local colour.’
=The Queen.=—‘_The Manxman_ is undoubtedly one of the most remarkable books of the century. It will be read and re-read, and take its place in the literary inheritance of the English-speaking nations.’
=The St. James’s Gazette.=—‘_The Manxman_ is a contribution to literature, and the most fastidious critic would give in exchange for it a wilderness of that deciduous trash which our publishers call fiction.... It is not possible to part from _The Manxman_ with anything but a warm tribute of approval.’—EDMUND GOSSE.
=The Christian World.=—‘There is a great fascination in being present, as it were, at the birth of a classic; and a classic undoubtedly _The Manxman_ is... He who reads _The Manxman_ feels that he is reading a book which will be read and re-read by very many thousands with human tears and human laughter.’
=Mr. T. P. O’Connor, in the ‘Sun.’=—‘This is a very fine and great story—one of the finest and greatest of our time.... Mr. Hall Caine reaches heights which are attained only by the greatest masters of fiction.... I think of the great French writer, Stendhal, at the same moment as the great English writer.... In short, you feel what Mr. Howells said of Tolstoi, “This is not like life; it is life.”... He belongs to that small minority of the Great Elect of Literature.’
=The Scotsman.=—‘It is not too much to say that it is the most powerful story that has been written in the present generation.... The love of Pete, his simple-mindedness, his sufferings when he has lost Kate, are painted with a master-hand.... It is a work of genius.’
LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN, 21 BEDFORD STREET, W.C.
THE BONDMAN
BY HALL CAINE
With a Photogravure Portrait of the Author.
_In One Volume, price 6s._
=Mr. Gladstone.=—‘_The Bondman_ is a work of which I recognise the freshness, vigour, and sustained interest, no less than its integrity of aim.’
=The Times.=—‘It is impossible to deny originality and rude power to this saga, impossible not to admire its forceful directness, and the colossal grandeur of its leading characters.’
=The Academy.=—‘The language of _The Bondman_ is full of nervous, graphic, and poetical English; its interest never flags, and its situations and descriptions are magnificent. It is a splendid novel.’
=The Speaker.=—‘This is the best book that Mr. Hall Caine has yet written, and it reaches a level to which fiction very rarely attains.... We are, in fact so loth to let such good work be degraded by the title of “novel” that we are almost tempted to consider its claim to rank as a prose epic.’
=The Scotsman.=—‘Mr. Hall Caine has in this work placed himself beyond the front rank of the novelists of the day. He has produced a story which, for the ingenuity of its plot, for its literary excellence, for its delineations of human passions, and for its intensely powerful dramatic scenes, is distinctly ahead of all the fictional literature of our time, and fit to rank with the most powerful fictional writing of the past century.’
=The Athenæum.=—‘Crowded with incidents.’
=The Observer.=—‘Many of the descriptions are picturesque and powerful.... As fine in their way as anything in modern literature.’
=The Liverpool Mercury.=—‘A story which will be read, not by his contemporaries alone, but by later generations, so long as its chief features—high emotion, deep passion, exquisite poetry, and true pathos—have power to delight and to touch the heart.’
=The Pall Mall Gazette.=—‘It is the product of a strenuous and sustained imaginative effort far beyond the power of any every-day story-teller.’
=The Scots Observer.=—‘In none of his previous works has he approached the splendour of idealism which flows through _The Bondman_.’
=The Manchester Guardian.=—‘A remarkable story, painted with vigour and brilliant effect.’
=The St. James’s Gazette.=—‘A striking and highly dramatic piece of fiction.’
=The Literary World.=—‘The book abounds in pages of great force and beauty, and there is a touch of almost Homeric power in its massive and grand simplicity.’
=The Liverpool Post.=—‘Graphic, dramatic, pathetic, heroic, full of detail, crowded with incident and inspired by a noble purpose.’
=The Yorkshire Post.=—‘A book of lasting interest.’
LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN, 21 BEDFORD STREET, W.C.
THE SCAPEGOAT
BY HALL CAINE
_In One Volume, price 6s._
=Mr. Gladstone writes=:—‘I congratulate you upon _The Scapegoat_ as a work of art, and especially upon the noble and skilfully drawn character of Israel.’
=Mr. Walter Besant, in ‘The Author.’=—‘Nearly every year there stands out a head and shoulders above its companions one work which promises to make the year memorable. This year a promise of lasting vitality is distinctly made by Mr. Hall Caine’s _Scapegoat_. It is a great book, great in conception and in execution; a strong book, strong in situation and in character; and a human book, human in its pathos, its terror, and its passion.’
=The Times.=—‘In our judgment it excels in dramatic force all the Author’s previous efforts. For grace and touching pathos Naomi is a character which any romancist in the world might be proud to have created, and the tale of her parents’ despair and hopes, and of her own development, confers upon _The Scapegoat_ a distinction which is matchless of its kind.’
=The Guardian.=—‘Mr. Hall Caine is undoubtedly master of a style which is peculiarly his own. He is in a way a Rembrandt among novelists. His figures, striking and powerful rather than beautiful, stand out, with the ruggedness of their features developed and accentuated, from a background of the deepest gloom.... Every sentence contains a thought, and every word of it is balanced and arranged to accumulate the intensity of its force.’
=The Athenæum.=—‘It is a delightful story to read.’
=The Academy.=—‘Israel ben Oliel is the third of a series of the most profoundly conceived characters in modern fiction.’
=The Saturday Review.=—‘This is the best novel which Mr. Caine has yet produced.’
=The Literary World.=—‘The lifelike renderings of the varied situations, the gradual changes in a noble character, hardened and lowered by the world’s cruel usage, and returning at last to its original grandeur, can only be fully appreciated by a perusal of the book as a whole.’
=The Anti-Jacobin.=—‘It is, in truth, a romance of fine poetic quality. Israel Ben Oliel, the central figure of the tale, is sculptured rather than drawn: a character of grand outline. A nobler piece of prose than the death of Ruth we have seldom met with.’
=The Scotsman.=—‘The new story will rank with Mr. Hall Caine’s previous productions. Nay, it will in some respects rank above them. It will take its place by the side of the Hebrew histories in the Apocrypha. It is nobly and manfully written. It stirs the blood and kindles the imagination.’
=The Scottish Leader.=—‘_The Scapegoat_ is a masterpiece.’
=Truth.=—‘Mr. Hall Caine has been winning his way slowly, but surely, and securely, I think also, to fame. You must by all means read his absorbing Moorish romance, _The Scapegoat_.’
=The Jewish World.=—‘Only one who had studied Moses could have drawn that grand portrait of Israel ben Oliel.’
LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN, 21 BEDFORD STREET, W.C.
THE HEAVENLY TWINS
BY SARAH GRAND
_In One Volume, price 6s._
=The Athenæum.=—‘It is so full of interest, and the characters are so eccentrically humorous yet true, that one feels inclined to pardon all its faults, and give oneself up to unreserved enjoyment of it.... The twins Angelica and Diavolo, young barbarians, utterly devoid of all respect, conventionality, or decency, are among the most delightful and amusing children in fiction.’
=The Academy.=—‘The adventures of Diavolo and Angelica—the "heavenly twins"—are delightfully funny. No more original children were ever put into a book. Their audacity, unmanageableness, and genius for mischief—in none of which qualities, as they are here shown, is there any taint of vice—are refreshing; and it is impossible not to follow, with very keen interest, the progress of these youngsters.’
=The Daily Telegraph.=—‘Everybody ought to read it, for it is an inexhaustible source of refreshing and highly stimulating entertainment.’
=The World.=—‘There is much powerful and some beautiful writing in this strange book.’
=The Westminster Gazette.=—‘Sarah Grand ... has put enough observation, humour, and thought into this book to furnish forth half-a-dozen ordinary novels.’
=Punch.=—‘The Twins themselves are a creation: the epithet “Heavenly” for these two mischievous little fiends is admirable.’
=The Queen.=—‘There is a touch of real genius in _The Heavenly Twins_.’
=The Guardian.=—‘Exceptionally brilliant in dialogue, and dealing with modern society life, this book has a purpose—to draw out and emancipate women.’
=The Lady.=—‘Apart from its more serious interest, the book should take high rank on its literary merits alone. Its pages are brimful of good things, and more than one passage, notably the episode of “The Boy and the Tenor,” is a poem complete in itself, and worthy of separate publication.’
=The Manchester Examiner.=—‘As surely as _Tess of the d’Urbervilles_ swept all before it last year, so surely has Sarah Grand’s _Heavenly Twins_ provoked the greatest attention and comment this season. It is a most daringly original work.... Sarah Grand is a notable Woman’s Righter, but her book is the one asked for at Mudie’s, suburban, and seaside libraries, and discussed at every hotel table in the kingdom. The episode of the “Tenor and the Boy” is of rare beauty, and is singularly delicate and at the same time un-English in treatment.’
=The New York Critic.=—‘It is written in an epigrammatic style, and, besides its cleverness, has the great charm of freshness, enthusiasm, and poetic feeling.’
LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN, 21 BEDFORD STREET, W.C.
IDEALA
A STUDY FROM LIFE
BY SARAH GRAND
_In One Volume, price 6s._
=The Morning Post.=—‘Sarah Grand’s _Ideala_.... A clever book in itself, is especially interesting when read in the light of her later works. Standing alone, it is remarkable as the outcome of an earnest mind seeking in good faith the solution of a difficult and ever present problem.... _Ideala_ is original and somewhat daring.... The story is in many ways delightful and thought-suggesting.’
=The Literary World.=—‘When Sarah Grand came before the public in 1888 with _Ideala_, she consciously and firmly laid her finger on one of the keynotes of the age.... We welcome an edition that will place this minute and careful study of an interesting question within reach of a wider circle of readers.’
=The Liverpool Mercury.=—‘The book is a wonderful one—an evangel for the fair sex, and at once an inspiration and a comforting companion, to which thoughtful womanhood will recur again and again.’
=The Glasgow Herald.=—‘_Ideala_ has attained the honour of a fifth edition.... The stir created by _The Heavenly Twins_, the more recent work by the same authoress, Madame Sarah Grand, would justify this step. _Ideala_ can, however, stand on its own merits.’
=The Yorkshire Post.=—‘As a psychological study the book cannot fail to be of interest to many readers.’
=The Birmingham Gazette.=—‘Madame Sarah Grand thoroughly deserves her success. Ideala, the heroine, is a splendid conception, and her opinions are noble.... The book is not one to be forgotten.’
=The Woman’s Herald.=—‘One naturally wishes to know something of the woman for whose sake Lord Downe remained a bachelor. It must be confessed that at first _Ideala_ is a little disappointing. She is strikingly original.... As the story advances one forgets these peculiarities, and can find little but sympathy and admiration for the many noble qualities of a very complex character.’
=The Englishman.=—‘Madame Sarah Grand’s work is far from being a common work. Ideala is a clever young woman of great capabilities and noble purposes.... The originality of the book does not lie in the plot, but in the authoress’s power to see and to describe the finer shades of a character which is erratic and impetuous, but above all things truly womanly.’
LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN 21 BEDFORD STREET, W.C.
OUR MANIFOLD NATURE
BY SARAH GRAND
_In One Volume, price 6s._
=The Daily Telegraph.=—‘Six stories by the gifted writer who still chooses to be known to the public at large by the pseudonym of “=Sarah Grand=.” In regard to them it is sufficient to say that they display all the qualities, stylistic, humorous, and pathetic, that have placed the author of _Ideala_ and _The Heavenly Twins_ in the very front rank of contemporary novelists.’
=The Globe.=—‘Brief studies of character, sympathetic, and suggesting that “Sarah Grand” can do something more than startle by her unconventionality and boldness.’
=The Ladies’ Pictorial.=—‘If the volume does not achieve even greater popularity than Sarah Grand’s former works, it will be a proof that fashion, not intrinsic merit, has a great deal to do with the success of a book.’
=The Pall Mall Gazette.=—‘All are eminently entertaining.’
=The Spectator.=—‘Insight into, and general sympathy with widely differing phases of humanity, coupled with power to reproduce what is seen, with vivid distinct strokes, that rivet the attention, are qualifications for work of the kind contained in _Our Manifold Nature_ which Sarah Grand evidently possesses in a high degree.... All these studies, male and female alike, are marked by humour, pathos, fidelity to life, and power to recognise in human nature the frequent recurrence of some apparently incongruous and remote trait, which, when at last it becomes visible, helps to a comprehension of what might otherwise be inexplicable.’
=The Speaker.=—‘In _Our Manifold Nature_ Sarah Grand is seen at her best. How good that is can only be known by those who read for themselves this admirable little volume. In freshness of conception and originality of treatment these stories are delightful, full of force and piquancy, whilst the studies of character are carried out with equal firmness and delicacy.’
=The Guardian.=—‘_Our Manifold Nature_ is a clever book. Sarah Grand has the power of touching common things, which, if it fails to make them “rise to touch the spheres,” renders them exceedingly interesting.’
=The Morning Post.=—‘Unstinted praise is deserved by the Irish story, “Boomellen,” a tale remarkable both for power and pathos.’
=The Court Journal.=—‘_Our Manifold Nature_ is simply fall of good things, and it is essentially a book to buy as well as to read.’
=The Birmingham Gazette.=—‘Mrs. Grand has genuine power. She analyses keenly.... Her humour is good, and her delineation of character one of her strongest points. The book is one to be read, studied, and acted upon.’
LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN, 21 BEDFORD STREET, W.C.
THE EBB-TIDE
BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
AND
LLOYD OSBOURNE
_In One Volume, price 6s._
=The Times.=—‘This is a novel of sensation. But the episodes and incidents, although thrilling enough, are consistently subordinated to sensationalism of character.... There is just enough of the coral reef and the palm groves, of cerulean sky and pellucid water, to indicate rather than to present the local colouring. Yet when he dashes in a sketch it is done to perfection.... We see the scene vividly unrolled before us.’
=The Daily Telegraph.=—‘The story is full of strong scenes, depicted with a somewhat lavish use of violet pigments, such as, perhaps, the stirring situations demand. Here and there, however, are purple patches, in which Mr. Stevenson shows all his cunning literary art—the description of the coral island, for instance.... Some intensely graphic and dramatic pages delineate the struggle which causes, and a final scene ... concludes this strange fragment from the wild life of the South Sea.’
=The St. James’s Gazette.=—‘The book takes your imagination and attention captive from the first chapter—nay, from the first paragraph—and it does not set them free till the last word has been read.’
=The Standard.=—‘Mr. Stevenson gives such vitality to his characters, and so clear an outlook upon the strange quarter of the world to which he takes us, that when we reach the end of the story, we come back to civilisation with a start of surprise, and a moment’s difficulty in realising that we have not been actually away from it.’
=The Daily Chronicle.=—‘We are swept along without a pause on the current of the animated and vigorous narrative. Each incident and adventure is told with that incomparable keenness of vision which is Mr. Stevenson’s greatest charm as a story-teller.’
=The Pall Mall Gazette.=—‘It is brilliantly invented, and it is not less brilliantly told. There is not a dull sentence in the whole run of it. And the style is fresh, alert, full of surprises—in fact, is very good latter-day Stevenson indeed.’
=The World.=—‘It is amazingly clever, full of that extraordinary knowledge of human nature which makes certain creations of Mr. Stevenson’s pen far more real to us than persons we have met in the flesh. Grisly the book undoubtedly is, with a strength and a vigour of description hardly to be matched in the language.... But it is just because the book is so extraordinarily good that it ought to be better, ought to be more of a serious whole than a mere brilliant display of fireworks, though each firework display has more genius in it than is to be found in ninety-nine out of every hundred books supposed to contain that rare quality.’