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THE NEW

MONTHLY BELLE ASSEMBLÉE.

JULY, 1851.

THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF EDWARD JERNINGHAM.

(A Novel.)

BY W. B. BATEMAN,

AUTHOR OF "THE DRAMA OF LIFE."

(Continued from Vol. XXVI., page 329.)

CHAP. X.

BOOK THE SECOND.

THE DAWN OF LIFE.

THE FIRST RESOLVE WHICH COLOURS A

LIFETIME.

Eighteen years had passed away. It was the month of June, in 1815-a month and a year destined to be memorable for ever in the annals of mankind. The atmosphere of Europe was no longer laden with shamble-steams of blood; Promethean ambition was condemned to its rock in St. Helena: jackalls and wolves had eaten the last meal of human flesh which they were destined to gloat over for many a day; and doveeyed Peace soothed the bleeding world after its travail, as a spirit oppressed with nightmare is lulled with sweet slumber at noon.

During this flight of time, old hopes and fears have died away, and new ones have arisen. Objects pursued before with such fervent aspirations are now realised and cast aside, or forgotten as abandoned dreams. Men, too, have changed-the youth of the former epoch has become the manhood of this, what was fullblown vigour then is now decrepitude, and a new generation is galling the kibe of age, and shouting peans of joy over the Battle of Waterloo! There is a sanctity in those songs; they announce that Intellect is springing, Endymion-like, from its long repose; that Science shall awaken, that Improvement may go forth again, to cultivate and refine, and knit mankind together in a chain of holy brotherhood. All this and more may date its birth from that "leafy month of June" which reopens our tale.

The news had vibrated like an electric shock from one end of the kingdom to the other. Every court from Fleet Ditch to St. James's had echoed with it, every window had blazed with illuminations, joyful salvos had rent the heavens with the tale, and even the green meadows of the country had lit up bonfires that dimmed the moon, and made the glow-worm "pale its ineffectual fire." It was a jubilee everywhere but in the classical academy of Mr. Vandersplutter.

Mr. Vandersplutter was of Dutch extraction, and had a square, unmeaning face, and a thick protuberant figure. He had been brought up to the church; but his taste for spiritual matters exhibiting itself rather in an attraction to schnaps and other strong waters, than to the ghostly lucubrations of the old fathers, he doffed the gown, and set up a select academy. The speculation flourished amazingly. He had tutors who taught everything, from the use of the globes to the language of the Hindostanese.

There was no scholar in the neighbourhood except the clergyman of the village, and he was an invalid, so that Mr. Vandersplutter had credit for unknown erudition. By never drinking wine when he dined out, he acquired moreover the character of a strict ascetic, and no one knew-except his wife, who put him to bedhow amply he consoled himself for abstinence from the convivial claret by devotion to the secret schnaps. Mrs. Vandersplutter, his matrimonial moiety, was a tall, pretty Frenchwoman, slim, as are all her race, and not deficient in what is considered their natural

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characteristic, the penchant for intrigue. She had not married Mr. Vandersplutter for love, he was incapable of inspiring it; nor for money, because he had never possessed any; but merely to procure the freedom of a wife, in pursuit of which object a Frenchwoman can live with anybody. Her character, too, was white as driven snow in the estimation of that simple country neighbourhood, although certain levities on the occasion of a visit from her cousin, a young Romish priest, might have altered their opinion, only they were too dull, and her husband was too tipsy to discover them.

And now in these classic groves of Academus raged a most discordant uproar, and the spirit of rebellion was abroad among the disciples. For some reason unknown, there was to be no holiday to celebrate the victory. Whether Mr. Vandersplutter's head was racked by remorse and schnaps; whether Mrs. Vandersplutter had excited the green-eyed monster, jealousy; or whether it was only one of those thunder-storms which sweep periodically over the connubial horizon, was in nowise explained. But the master had banged his library door, cursing everything by his gods in direful Dutch. The mistress had taken refuge in her chamber and a French novel; not, however, without well badgering Mademoiselle la Folle, the French maid, who now sat "Mon Dieu"-ing and irrigating the hall-floor with her tears.

The agitation in the house, however, was nothing to the sedition in the playground. The pupils, large and sinall, were gathered round a tall youth, who was reading a newspaper in the centre of the group, and at every new detail of gallantry, their hip-hip-hurrahs rent the air, and shook the rafters of Vandersplutter Academy.

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And we are to have no holiday for this?" said the reader, when he had concluded; "why the very sky makes jubilee-look how blue it is, Dick Revel!"

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If they won't give us a holiday, let us take it," replied Revel, a youth of middle size and peculiar features, who never learnt anything but Shakspere; "I say war-peace is to me a war; let rebellion show its " horrid front"-what say you, old boys, "to be or not to be, that is the question?"

To be!" echoed twenty voices in reply to this motley mass of quotation.

"Then pitch the stumps again, Ned Jerningham," cried Revel, "and they may ring the school-bell till the welkin rings, we'll bave our rights" before my form I throw my warlike shield;" and he raised the cricket-bat dramatically" lay on, Macduff'; and damned be he that first cries Hold, enough!"

The wickets were pitched once more, the players assumed their positions around the field, and they were speedily immersed again in the glorious game of cricket, which no mind but that of a genuine English sportsman could possibly have invented. The air was elastic as their pliant frames, and the sky did not gleam more

brightly than their indomitable spirits flushed with life and health. What elixir like youth? What intoxication like that of boyhood, quaffing rich draughts of pleasure in the spring-time of existence!

But habit is strong, and enthusiasm for the most part of brief duration. Their fresh game was scarcely begun when the booming voice of the school-bell echoed forth its summons. For some minutes there was a pause of irresolution. Each waited for the other to make some signal either of rebellion or respect. All were silent, however; and at last one or two of the less enterprising put on their jackets, and sauntered gloomily to the academy doors. More followed, until at length the whole were wending as usual to their allotted tasks. Jerningham and Revel reluctantly followed in the rear of their fellows, like leaders whose forces have refused to obey. They paused together at the portal, and each read the heart of the other in his flashing eyes; they knew that their thoughts were the same. I am getting weary of school!" said Jerningham.

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Something too much of this!" quoted Revel, in apposite confirmation of his friend's remark-" how much in our purse, Ned? -- I have two guineas!"

"And I have nearly five," replied Jerningham; "what say you to a moonlight start for town-there are only twenty-seven miles between our prison and freedom!"

Revel pressed his friend's hand convulsively; for once he was at a loss to find a quotation. Their hearts began to knock at their bosoms, their breathing grew quick, they already felt that they were overstepping a great boundary in Life-the Rubicon that divides Youth from Manhood.

Nay let's together,'" exclaimed Revel at last, and they passed within the gate. Their fates were fixed from that very hour!

CHAP. XI.

A PAGE OF RETROSPECTION. Lest the resolve of the two schoolfellows should appear more hasty than natural, it be comes necessary to retrace some of the circumstances that intervened between that period, which left the infant Jerningham in his nurse's arms, to the present, when we find him a youth of eighteen at Vandersplutter Academy.

The murder of his father, and the death of his last relation in his mother, occurred in a manner so sudden and unexpected, that Lord Haverdale and Greville assumed rather than received the offices of guardianship. Unfortunately, however, the care of education was the only charge that fell to their lot, for the fortune of the young orphan was reduced to a shadow. It were long to recapitulate, and sad to tell, how the noble domains of Jerningham had been frittered away on the turf and at the gaming-table. And still more strange were the conjecture how a man of kindly heart, though infirm of purpose, could

have consented to involve a wife and child in, five guineas into the young pupil's hand by way his ruin. The secret lay in this very connection. of "tip" from his absent guardian. But, save It was to quench the exacting lust of play that on one or two hurried occasions, they had he married; and not until he had bound him- never met. Years rolled on thus, and now and self by that tie did the full knowledge of his then, as he approached the age at which we find desperate condition dawn upon him. For a him, he had even addressed Lord Haverdale by time he retrenched, but it was unavailing. letter, demanding emancipation from a school Fresh liabilities presented themselves when he where he had nothing further to learn, and was least able to meet them. Then Lord Ha-hinting at a progress to college. verdale came again to the Hall, adding new No reply was ever received to these applicatemptation by the reminiscence of their old ex- tions; indeed they were never forwarded. The ploits, and-what can assuage the fever of a steward had observed an uneasy disrelish in his gamester save the indulgence that adds fresh master towards his ward; and once, when he fire?-he relapsed once more. Nights of excite- delivered an epistle of this nature, Haverdale ment were followed by days of remorse. A re-resented it so angrily, that there was never likely medy must be found to staunch the life-blood that was flowing away, and at the last ebb the fancied loophole presented itself. A speculation was at that time riding upon the stream of commercial enterprize, which, it was whispered, would cover the projectors Danaæ-like with showers of gold. Multitudes were allured by the scheme, merchant princes invested their thousands, and aristocrats their tens of thousands; even highsouled priesthood, that scouted mammon in the pulpit, but disdained not its treasures in the secret chest, was angling in the stream among the rest.

Advertised by his steward Wrinkle of the new scheme, Mr. Jerningham plunged into it as a last resource. As its credit increased in the market he dived deeper and deeper, and at length came the highest point it was destined to reach, and it wavered, tottered, tumbled headlong, rendering extrication impossible. The very same day that found Mr. Jerningham in Wrinkle's chamber listening to the story of his own ruin, left him at night stricken dead upon the highway by the mistaken murdererShingle.

So young Edward Jerningham was left to the tender mercies of stranger solicitude, and dark and troubled were the waters of life whose ebb and flow wafted him through infancy to boyhood. It was happy for the lonely wanderer that he did not know all the ingratitude of the thankless, that the wealth of his fathers was lavished before he began to partake of its advantages, and that the doting love of parents too was withdrawn like a half-remembered dream of youth before misfortune cast a canker on its purity. He commenced life with humbler prospects, but with a not less proud ambition. The soul of his ancestry was in him, suggesting high thoughts; the fire of sorrow had tempered his spirit with the keen edge which conquers circumstance, and teaches the "noble mind to scorn delights and love laborious days."

After leaving him at Vandersplutter Academy, with instructions that no expense was to be spared in his education, Lord Haverdale had far too much insouciance to trouble himself any further. Occasionally, indeed, his lordship's steward received orders to forward a hamper of game to the academy for Master Jerningham; and not unfrequently the same satellite called, on his little dock-tailed cob, and slipt four or

to be a repetition of the offence.

Arrived now at the vigorous youthfulness of eighteen, the reader will easily conceive that our fiery colt began to spurn the rein, and champ upon the bit, and snuff the air with longings after freedom. Was he for ever to linger in thrall with his paces untried, and his spirit tamed to toil? On long summer nights he and young Revel would wander about the playground, discussing their fate, and building airy visions for the future; visions rendered-ah how!golden by their inexperienced years. At length these fancies grew into something real and palpable. What was first a mere noontide dream became gradually familiar, and at last grew into a settled desire, dormant in itself, but liable to fruition by any accident. The event recorded in our last chapter had sprung the mine; Revel's restless spirit was too fond of adventure to falter for an instant, and he readily agreed to club his funds with Jerningham's, and join him in his flight. They resolved to start that night, for the moon was full, and they were uncertain of the way. Neither of them wavered, yet the very firmness of their determination made them tremble; and when they entered the schoolroom -a spot unloved, but still grown hallowed by long association-and when they looked round on every homely feature, and thought that it was for the last time, their hearts laboured, their eyes moistened, and they could have wept !

CHAP. XII.

THE FLIGHT.

Night never shed a lustre more serenely blue and beautiful, whether her stars lit Italian domes or Eastern minarets, than swathed the meads of England upon this eventful eve. The calmness of slumber was over all. The rivulets glided stilly in a stream of moonlight; the branches were unstirred, for their playmates, the breezes, were at rest; not a cry from the owl, not a plaint from the nightingale; but the silent air was bathed with moonlight, that fell, brightly, solemnly, like the calm glance of a mind that knows no passion but the intellect.

Strange contrast to the beating hearts of the adventurers.

It wanted a few minutes of midnight, when

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