CHAPTER V.
Speculations on the moral qualities of the Bandit.--Mr. Vance, with
mingled emotions, foresees that the acquisition of the Bandit's
acquaintance may be attended with pecuniary loss.
Vance loosened the boat from its moorings, stepped in, and took up the
oars. Lionel followed, and sat by the stern. The Artist rowed on
slowly, whistling melodiously in time to the dash of the oars. They soon
came to the bank of garden-ground surrounding with turf on which fairies
might have danced one of those villas never seen out of England. From
the windows of the villa the lights gleamed steadily; over the banks,
dipping into the water, hung large willows breathlessly; the boat gently
brushed aside their pendent boughs, and Vance rested in a grassy cove.
"And faith," said the Artist, gayly,--"faith," said he, lighting his
third cigar, "it is time we should bestow a few words more on the
Remorseless Baron and the Bandit's Child! What a cock-and-a-bull story
the Cobbler told us! He must have thought us precious green."
LIONEL (roused).--"Nay, I see nothing so wonderful in the story, though
much that is sad. You must allow that Waife may have been a good actor:
you became quite excited merely at his attitude and bow. Natural,
therefore, that he should have been invited to try his chance on the
London stage; not improbable that he may have met with an accident by the
train, and so lost his chance forever; natural, then, that he should
press into service his poor little grandchild, natural, also, that,
hardly treated and his pride hurt, he should wish to escape."
VANCE.--"And more natural than all that he should want to extract from
our pockets three pounds, the Bandit! No, Lionel, I tell you what is not
probable, that he should have disposed of that clever child to a vagabond
like Rugge: she plays admirably. The manager who was to have engaged him
would have engaged her if he had seen her. I am puzzled."
LIONEL.--"True, she is an extraordinary child. I cannot say how she has
interested me." He took out his purse, and began counting its contents.
"I have nearly three pounds left," he cried joyously. "L2. 18s. if I
give up the thought of a longer excursion with you, and go quietly
home--"
VANCE.--"And not pay your share of the bill yonder?"
LIONEL.--"Ah, I forgot that! But come, I am not too proud to borrow
from you: it is not for a selfish purpose."
VANCE.--"Borrow from me, Cato! That comes of falling in with bandits
and their children. No; but let us look at the thing like men of sense.
One story is good till another is told. I will call by myself on Rugge
to-morrow, and hear what he says; and then, if we judge favourably of the
Cobbler's version, we will go at night and talk with the Cobbler's
lodgers; and I dare say," added Vance, kindly, but with a sigh,--"I
daresay the three pounds will be coaxed out of me! After all, her head
is worth it. I want an idea for Titania."
LIONEL (joyously).--"My dear Vance, you are the best fellow in the
world."
VANCE.--"Small compliment to humankind! Take the oars: it is your turn
now."
Lionel obeyed; the boat once more danced along the tide--thoro' reeds,--
--thoro' waves, skirting the grassy islet--out into pale moonlight. They
talked but by fits and starts. What of?--a thousand things! Bright
young hearts, eloquent young tongues! No sins in the past; hopes
gleaming through the future. O summer nights, on the glass of starry
waves! O Youth, Youth!
