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Mastering Linux Shell Scripting
Second Edition

A practical guide to Linux command-line, Bash scripting, and Shell

programming

Mokhtar Ebrahim
Andrew Mallett
BIRMINGHAM - MUMBAI
Mastering Linux Shell
Scripting Second Edition
Copyright © 2018 Packt Publishing

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any
form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief
quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

Every effort has been made in the preparation of this book to ensure the accuracy of the information
presented. However, the information contained in this book is sold without warranty, either express or implied.
Neither the authors, nor Packt Publishing or its dealers and distributors, will be held liable for any damages
caused or alleged to have been caused directly or indirectly by this book.

Packt Publishing has endeavored to provide trademark information about all of the companies and products
mentioned in this book by the appropriate use of capitals. However, Packt Publishing cannot guarantee the
accuracy of this information.

Commissioning Editor: Vijin Boricha

Acquisition Editor: Rohit Rajkumar
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First published: December 2015

Second edition: April 2018

Production reference: 1180418

Published by Packt Publishing Ltd.

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B3 2PB, UK.

ISBN 978-1-78899-055-4

www.packtpub.com
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Contributors
About the authors
Mokhtar Ebrahim started working as a Linux system administrator
in 2010. He is responsible for maintaining, securing, and
troubleshooting Linux servers for multiple clients around the world.
He loves writing shell and Python scripts to automate his work. He
writes technical articles on the Like Geeks website about Linux,
Python, web development, and server administration. He is a father
to a beautiful girl and a husband to a faithful wife.
I would like to thank my wife for helping me with all her efforts to finish this book. Thank you, Doaa, for being
a part of that. Also, I would like to thank everyone at Packt for working with me to make sure the book is
released. Last but not least, I'd like to thank Brian Fox, the author of the bash shell, for creating such an
awesome piece of software; without it, such a book would not exist.

Andrew Mallett is the owner of The Urban Penguin, and he is a

comprehensive provider of professional Linux software development,
training, and services. Having always been a command-line fan, he
feels that so much time can be saved through knowing command-
line shortcuts and scripting. TheUrbanPenguin YouTube channel,
maintained by Andrew, has well over 800 videos to support this, and
he has authored four other Packt titles.
About the reviewer
Sebastiaan Tammer is a Linux enthusiast from The Netherlands.
After attaining his BSc in Information Sciences, he graduated with
MSc in Business Informatics, both from Utrecht University. His
professional career started in Java development before he pivoted
into Linux.

He has worked on number of technologies, such as Puppet, Chef,

Docker, and Kubernetes. He spends a lot of time in and around his
terminal of choice: bash. Whether it is creating complex scripting
solutions or just automating simple tasks, there is hardly anything he
hasn't done with bash!
I would like to thank my girlfriend, Sanne, for all the help and support she has given me throughout the years.
She has had to endure the late nights studying, me fixing stuff (which I had inevitably broken only hours
earlier), and my endless storytelling about all those exciting new technologies. Thanks for the enormous
amount of patience and love, I could not have done it without you!
Packt is searching for authors
like you
If you're interested in becoming an author for Packt, please visit autho
rs.packtpub.com and apply today. We have worked with thousands of

developers and tech professionals, just like you, to help them share
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Table of Contents
Title Page

Copyright and Credits

Mastering Linux Shell Scripting Second Edition

Packt Upsell

Why subscribe?

PacktPub.com

Contributors

About the authors

About the reviewer

Packt is searching for authors like you

Preface

Who this book is for

What this book covers

To get the most out of this book

Download the example code files

Download the color images

Conventions used

Get in touch

Reviews

1. The What and Why of Scripting with Bash

Technical requirements

Types of Linux shells

What is bash scripting?

The bash command hierarchy

Command type

Command PATH

Preparing text editors for scripting

Configuring vim

Configuring nano

Configuring gedit

Creating and executing scripts

 Hello World!

Executing the script

Checking the exit status

Ensuring a unique name

Hello Dolly!

Running the script with arguments

The importance of correct quotes

Printing the script name

Declaring variables

User-defined variables

Environment variables

Variable scope

Command substitution

Debugging your scripts

Summary

Questions

Further reading

2. Creating Interactive Scripts

Technical requirements

Using echo with options

Basic script using read

Script comments

Enhancing scripts with read prompts

Limiting the number of entered characters

Controlling the visibility of the entered text

Passing options

Passing parameters with options

Read options values

Try to be standard
Enhancing learning with simple scripts

Backing-up with scripts

Connecting to a server

Version 1 – ping

Version 2 – SSH

Version 3 – MySQL/MariaDB

Reading files
 Summary
Questions

Further reading
3. Conditions Attached

Technical requirements
Simple decision paths using command-line lists

Verifying user input with lists

Using the test shell built-in

Testing strings
Testing integers

Testing file types

Creating conditional statements using if

Extending if with else

Test command with the if command

Checking strings
Checking files and directories

Checking numbers
Combining tests

More conditions with elif

Creating the backup2.sh using elif

Using case statements

Recipe – building a frontend with grep

Summary
Questions

Further reading
4. Creating Code Snippets

Technical requirements
Abbreviations

Using code snippets

Bringing color to the Terminal

Creating snippets using VS Code

Summary

Questions
Further reading

5. Alternative Syntax
Technical requirement
 Recapping the test command
Testing files

Adding logic
Square brackets as not seen before

Providing parameter defaults

Variables
Special parameters

Setting defaults
When in doubt – quote!
Advanced tests using [[
White space

Other advanced features

Pattern matching
Regular expressions
Regular expression script

Arithmetic operations using ((

Simple math
Parameter manipulation
Standard arithmetic tests

Summary
Questions
Further reading
6. Iterating with Loops

Technical requirement
for loops
Advanced for loops
The IFS

Counting directories and files

C-style for loops 
Nested loops
Redirecting loop output

Controlling the loop

while loops and until loops
Reading input from files
Creating operator menus

Summary
 Questions
Further reading
7. Creating Building Blocks with Functions

Technical requirements
Introducing functions
Passing parameters to functions

Passing arrays
Variable scope
Returning values from functions
Recursive functions

Using functions in menus

Summary
Questions
Further reading

8. Introducing the Stream Editor

Technical requirements
Using grep to display text
Displaying received data on an interface

Displaying user account data

Listing the number of CPUs in a system
Parsing CSV files
The CSV file

Isolating catalog entries

Understanding the basics of sed
The substitute command
Global replacement

Limiting substitution
Editing the file
Other sed commands
The delete command

The insert and append commands

The change command
The transform command
Multiple sed commands

Summary
Questions
 Further reading
9. Automating Apache Virtual Hosts

Technical requirements
Apache name-based Virtual Hosts
Creating the virtual host template
First steps

Isolating lines
sed script files
Automating virtual host creation
Prompting for data during site creation

Summary
Questions
Further reading
10. AWK Fundamentals

Technical requirements
The history behind AWK
Displaying and filtering content from files
AWK variables

User-defined variables
Conditional statements
The if command
while loops

for loops
Formatting output
Further filtering to display users by UID
AWK control files

Built-in functions
Summary
Questions
Further reading

11. Regular Expressions

Technical requirements
Regular expression engines
Defining BRE patterns

Anchor characters
The dot character
 The character class
Ranges of characters

Special character classes

The asterisk
Defining ERE patterns
The question mark

The plus sign

Curly braces
The pipe character
Expression grouping

Using grep
Summary

Questions

Further reading
12. Summarizing Logs with AWK

Technical requirements

The HTTPD log file format

Displaying data from web logs

Selecting entries by date

Summarizing 404 errors

Summarizing HTTP access codes

Resources hits
Identify image hotlinking

Displaying the highest ranking IP address

Displaying the browser data

Working with email logs

Summary
Questions

Further reading

13. A Better lastlog with AWK

Technical requirements

Using AWK ranges to exclude data

The lastlog command

Horizontally filtering rows with AWK

Counting matched rows

Conditions based on the number of fields
 Manipulating the AWK record separator to report on XML data

Apache Virtual Hosts

XML catalog

Summary

Questions
Further reading

14. Using Python as a Bash Scripting Alternative

Technical requirements

What is Python?

Saying Hello World the Python way

Pythonic arguments

Supplying arguments

Counting arguments
Significant whitespace

Reading user input

Using Python to write to files

String manipulation

Summary
Questions

Further reading

Assessments
Chapter 1

Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5
Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8
Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11
Chapter 12

Chapter 13
Chapter 14

Other Books You May Enjoy

Leave a review - let other readers know what you think
Preface
First, you'll learn about Linux shells and why we chose the bash
shell. Then, you'll learn how to write a simple bash script and how to
edit your bash script using Linux editors.

Following this, you will learn how to define a variable and the
visibility of a variable. After this, you will learn how to store
command execution output into a variable, which is called command
substitution. Also, you will learn how to debug your code using bash
options and Visual Studio Code. You will learn how to make your
bash script interactive to the user by accepting input from the user
using the read command. Then, you will learn how to read options
and its values if the user passed them to the script. Following this,
you will learn how to write conditional statements such as if
statements and how to use case statements. After this, you will
learn how to create code snippets using vim and Visual Studio Code.
For repetitive tasks, you will see how to write for loops, how to
iterate over simple values, and how to iterate over directory content.
Also, you will learn how to write nested loops. Along with this, you
will write while and until loops. Then, we will move on to functions,
the reusable chunks of code. You will learn how to write functions
and how to use them. After this, you will be introduced to one of the
best tools in Linux, which is Stream Editor. As we are still talking
about text processing, we will introduce AWK, one of the best text
processing tools in Linux that you will ever see.

After this, you will learn how to empower your text processing skills
by writing better regular expressions. Finally, you will be introduced
to Python as an alternative to bash scripting.
Who this book is for
This book targets system administrators and developers who would
like to write a better shell script to automate their work. Some
programming experience is preferable. If you don't have any
background in shell scripting, no problem, the book will discuss
everything from the beginning.
What this book covers
, The What and Why of Scripting with Bash, will introduce
Chapter 1

Linux shells, how to write your first shell script, how to prepare your
editor, how to debug your shell script, and some basic bash
programming, such as declaring variables, variable scope, and
command substitution.

, Creating Interactive Scripts, covers how to read input from

Chapter 2

the user using read command, how to pass options to your script,
how to control the visibility of the entered text, and how to limit the
number of entered characters.

, Conditions Attached, will introduce the

Chapter 3 if statement, the case

statement, and other testing command such as else and elif.

, Creating Code Snippets, covers creating and using code

Chapter 4

snippets using editors, such as vim and Visual Studio Code.

, Alternative Syntax, will discuss advanced testing using

Chapter 5 [[

and how to perform arithmetic operations.

Chapter 6, Iterating with Loops, will teach you how to use for loops,
while loops, and until loops to iterate over simple values and complex

values.

, Creating Building Blocks with Functions, will introduce

Chapter 7

functions and explains how to create a function, list builtin functions,

pass parameters to functions, and writing recursive functions.

, Introducing the Stream Editor, will introduce the basics of

Chapter 8

sed tool to manipulate files, such as adding, replacing deleting, and

transforming text.
 , Automating Apache Virtual Hosts, contains a practical
Chapter 9

example of sed and explains how to create virtual hosts

automatically using sed.

, AWK Fundamentals, will discuss AWK and how to filter file

Chapter 10

content using it. Also, we will discuss some AWK programming

basics.

, Regular Expressions, covers regular expressions, their

Chapter 11

engines, and how to use them with sed and AWK to empower your
script.

Chapter 12, Summarizing Logs with AWK, will show how to process the
httpd.conf Apache log file using AWK and extract useful well-formatted

data.

, A Better lastlog with AWK, will show you how to use AWK
Chapter 13

to output beautiful reports using the lastlog command by filtering

and processing the lastlog output.

, Using Python as a Bash Scripting Alternative, will discuss

Chapter 14

Python programming language basics and explains how to write

some Python scripts as a bash script alternative.
To get the most out of this
book
I assume that you have a little programming background. Even if
you don't have a programming background, the book will start from
the beginning.

You should know some Linux basics such as the basic commands
such as ls, cd, and which.
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
Sir William Hervy, and the well-known Sir George Drenghard, one of
the Drenghard family before- mentioned. They had, curiously
enough, all been equally honoured with the distinction of
knighthood, and their schemes for seeing her were manifold, each
fearing that one of the others would steal a march over himself. Not
content with calling, on every imaginable excuse, at the house of the
relative with whom she sojourned, they intercepted her in rides and
in walks; and if any one of them chanced to surprise another in the
act of paying her marked attentions, the encounter often ended in
an altercation of great violence. So heated and impassioned, indeed,
would they become, that the lady hardly felt herself safe in their
company at such times, notwithstanding that she was a brave and
buxom damsel, not easily put out, and with a daring spirit of humour
in her composition, if not of coquetry.
At one of these altercations, which had place in her relative's
grounds, and was unusually bitter, threatening to result in a duel,
she found it necessary to assert herself. Turning haughtily upon the
pair of disputants, she declared that whichever should be the first to
break the peace between them, no matter what the provocation,
that man should never be admitted to her presence again; and thus
would she effectually stultify the aggressor by making the promotion
of a quarrel a distinct bar to its object.
While the two knights were wearing rather a crest-fallen
appearance at her reprimand, the third, never far off, came upon the
scene, and she repeated her caveat to him also. Seeing, then, how
great was the concern of all at her peremptory mood, the lady's
manner softened, and she said with a roguish smile-
'Have patience, have patience, you foolish men! Only bide your
time quietly, and, in faith, I will marry you all in turn!'
They laughed heartily at this sally, all three together, as though
they were the best of friends; at which she blushed, and showed
some embarrassment, not having realized that her arch jest would
have sounded so strange when uttered. The meeting which resulted
thus, however, had its good effect in checking the bitterness of their
rivalry; and they repeated her speech to their relatives and
acquaintance with a hilarious frequency and publicity that the lady
little divined, or she might have blushed and felt more
embarrassment still.
In the course of time the position resolved itself, and the
beauteous Lady Penelope (as she was called) made up her mind;
her choice being the eldest of the three knights, Sir George
Drenghard, owner of the mansion aforesaid, which thereupon
became her home; and her husband being a pleasant man, and his
family, though not so noble, of as good repute as her own, all things
seemed to show that she had reckoned wisely in honouring him with
her preference.
But what may lie behind the still and silent veil of the future none
can foretell. In the course of a few months the husband of her
choice died of his convivialities (as if, indeed, to bear out his name),
and the Lady Penelope was left alone as mistress of his house. By
this time she had apparently quite forgotten her careless declaration
to her lovers collectively; but the lovers themselves had not
forgotten it; and, as she would now be free to take a second one of
them, Sir John Gale appeared at her door as early in her widowhood
as it was proper and seemly to do so.
She gave him little encouragement; for, of the two remaining, her
best beloved was Sir William, of whom, if the truth must be told, she
had often thought during her short married life. But he had not yet
reappeared. Her heart began to be so much with him now that she
contrived to convey to him, by indirect hints through his friends, that
she would not be displeased by a renewal of his former attentions.
Sir William, however, misapprehended her gentle signalling, and
from excellent, though mistaken motives of delicacy, delayed to
intrude himself upon her for a long time. Meanwhile Sir John, now
created a baronet, was unremitting, and she began to grow
somewhat piqued at the backwardness of him she secretly desired to
be forward.
'Never mind,' her friends said jestingly to her (knowing of her
humorous remark, as everybody did, that she would marry them all
three if they would have patience)-'never mind; why hesitate upon
the order of them? Take 'em as they come.'
This vexed her still more, and regretting deeply, as she had often
done, that such a careless speech should ever have passed her lips,
she fairly broke down under Sir John's importunity, and accepted his
hand. They were married on a fine spring morning, about the very
time at which the unfortunate Sir William discovered her preference
for him, and was beginning to hasten home from a foreign court to
declare his unaltered devotion to her. On his arrival in England he
learnt the sad truth.
If Sir William suffered at her precipitancy under what she had
deemed his neglect, the Lady Penelope herself suffered more. She
had not long been the wife of Sir John Gale before he showed a
disposition to retaliate upon her for the trouble and delay she had
put him to in winning her. With increasing frequency he would tell
her that, as far as he could perceive, she was an article not worth
such labour as he had bestowed in obtaining it, and such snubbings
as he had taken from his rivals on the same account. These and
other cruel things he repeated till he made the lady weep sorely, and
wellnigh broke her spirit, though she had formerly been such a
mettlesome dame. By degrees it became perceptible to all her
friends that her life was a very unhappy one; and the fate of the fair
woman seemed yet the harder in that it was her own stately
mansion, left to her sole use by her first husband, which her second
had entered into and was enjoying, his being but a mean and
meagre erection.
But such is the flippancy of friends that when she met them, and
secretly confided her grief to their ears, they would say cheerily,
'Lord, never mind, my dear; there's a third to come yet!'-at which
maladroit remark she would show much indignation, and tell them
they should know better than to trifle on so solemn a theme. Yet
that the poor lady would have been only too happy to be the wife of
the third, instead of Sir John whom she had taken, was painfully
obvious, and much she was blamed for her foolish choice by some
people. Sir William, however, had returned to foreign cities on
learning the news of her marriage, and had never been heard of
since.
Two or three years of suffering were passed by Lady Penelope as
the despised and chidden wife of this man Sir John, amid regrets
that she had so greatly mistaken him, and sighs for one whom she
thought never to see again, till it chanced that her husband fell sick
of some slight ailment. One day after this, when she was sitting in
his room, looking from the window upon the expanse in front, she
beheld, approaching the house on foot, a form she seemed to know
well. Lady Penelope withdrew silently from the sickroom, and
descended to the hall, whence, through the doorway, she saw
entering between the two round towers, which at that time flanked
the gateway, Sir William Hervy, as she had surmised, but looking thin
and travel-worn. She advanced into the courtyard to meet him.
'I was passing through Casterbridge,' he said, with faltering
deference, 'and I walked out to ask after your ladyship's health. I felt
that I could do no less; and, of course, to pay my respects to your
good husband, my heretofore acquaintance . . . But oh, Penelope,
th'st look sick and sorry!'
'I am heartsick, that's all,' said she.
They could see in each other an emotion which neither wished to
express, and they stood thus a long time with tears in their eyes.
'He does not treat 'ee well, I hear,' said Sir William in a low voice.
'May God in Heaven forgive him; but it is asking a great deal!'
'Hush, hush!' said she hastily.
'Nay, but I will speak what I may honestly say,' he answered. 'I am
not under your roof, and my tongue is free. Why didst not wait for
me, Penelope, or send to me a more overt letter? I would have
travelled night and day to come!'
'Too late, William; you must not ask it,' said she, endeavouring to
quiet him as in old times. 'My husband just now is unwell. He will
grow better in a day or two, maybe. You must call again and see him
before you leave Casterbridge.'
 As she said this their eyes met. Each was thinking of her lightsome
words about taking the three men in turn; each thought that two-
thirds of that promise had been fulfilled. But, as if it were unpleasant
to her that this recollection should have arisen, she spoke again
quickly: 'Come again in a day or two, when my husband will be well
enough to see you.'
Sir William departed without entering the house, and she returned
to Sir John's chamber. He, rising from his pillow, said, 'To whom hast
been talking, wife, in the courtyard? I heard voices there.'
She hesitated, and he repeated the question more impatiently.
'I do not wish to tell you now,' said she.
'But I wooll know!' said he.
Then she answered, 'Sir William Hervy.'
'By G—- I thought as much!' cried Sir John, drops of perspiration
standing on his white face. 'A skulking villain! A sick man's ears are
keen, my lady. I heard that they were lover-like tones, and he called
'ee by your Christian name. These be your intrigues, my lady, when I
am off my legs awhile!'
'On my honour,' cried she, 'you do me a wrong. I swear I did not
know of his coming!'
'Swear as you will,' said Sir John, 'I don't believe 'ee.' And with
this he taunted her, and worked himself into a greater passion,
which much increased his illness. His lady sat still, brooding. There
was that upon her face which had seldom been there since her
marriage; and she seemed to think anew of what she had so lightly
said in the days of her freedom, when her three lovers were one and
all coveting her hand. 'I began at the wrong end of them,' she
murmured. 'My God-that did I!'
'What?' said he.
'A trifle,' said she. 'I spoke to myself only.'
It was somewhat strange that after this day, while she went about
the house with even a sadder face than usual, her churlish husband
grew worse; and what was more, to the surprise of all, though to
the regret of few, he died a fortnight later. Sir William had not called
upon him as he had promised, having received a private
communication from Lady Penelope, frankly informing him that to do
so would be inadvisable, by reason of her husband's temper.
Now when Sir John was gone, and his remains carried to his
family burying-place in another part of England, the lady began in
due time to wonder whither Sir William had betaken himself. But she
had been cured of precipitancy (if ever woman were), and was
prepared to wait her whole lifetime a widow if the said Sir William
should not reappear. Her life was now passed mostly within the
walls, or in promenading between the pleasaunce and the bowling-
green; and she very seldom went even so far as the high road which
then skirted the grounds on the north, though it has now, and for
many years, been diverted to the south side. Her patience was
rewarded (if love be in any case a reward); for one day, many
months after her second husband's death, a messenger arrived at
her gate with the intelligence that Sir William Hervy was again in
Casterbridge, and would be glad to know if it were her pleasure that
he should wait upon her.
It need hardly be said that permission was joyfully granted, and
within two hours her lover stood before her, a more thoughtful man
than formerly, but in all essential respects the same man, generous,
modest to diffidence, and sincere. The reserve which womanly
decorum threw over her manner was but too obviously artificial, and
when he said 'the ways of Providence are strange,' and added after
a moment, 'and merciful likewise,' she could not conceal her
agitation, and burst into tears upon his neck.
'But this is too soon,' she said, starting back.
'But no,' said he. 'You are eleven months gone in widowhood, and
it is not as if Sir John had been a good husband to you.'
His visits grew pretty frequent now, as may well be guessed, and
in a month or two he began to urge her to an early union. But she
counselled a little longer delay.
 'Why?' said he. 'Surely I have waited long! Life is short; we are
getting older every day, and I am the last of the three.'
'Yes,' said the lady frankly. 'And that is why I would not have you
hasten. Our marriage may seem so strange to everybody, after my
unlucky remark on that occasion we know so well, and which so
many others know likewise, thanks to talebearers.'
On this representation he conceded a little space, for the sake of
her good name. But the destined day of their marriage at last
arrived, and it was a gay time for the villagers and all concerned,
and the bells in the parish church rang from noon till night. Thus at
last she was united to the man who had loved her the most tenderly
of them all, who but for his reticence might perhaps have been the
first to win her. Often did he say to himself; 'How wondrous that her
words should have been fulfilled! Many a truth hath been spoken in
jest, but never a more remarkable one!' The noble lady herself
preferred not to dwell on the coincidence, a certain shyness, if not
shame, crossing her fair face at any allusion thereto.
But people will have their say, sensitive souls or none, and their
sayings on this third occasion took a singular shape. 'Surely,' they
whispered, 'there is something more than chance in this . . . The
death of the first was possibly natural; but what of the death of the
second, who ill-used her, and whom, loving the third so desperately,
she must have wished out of the way?'
Then they pieced together sundry trivial incidents of Sir John's
illness, and dwelt upon the indubitable truth that he had grown
worse after her lover's unexpected visit; till a very sinister theory
was built up as to the hand she may have had in Sir John's
premature demise. But nothing of this suspicion was said openly, for
she was a lady of noble birth-nobler, indeed, than either of her
husbands-and what people suspected they feared to express in
formal accusation.
The mansion that she occupied had been left to her for so long a
time as she should choose to reside in it, and, having a regard for
the spot, she had coaxed Sir William to remain there. But in the end
it was unfortunate; for one day, when in the full tide of his
happiness, he was walking among the willows near the gardens,
where he overheard a conversation between some basket-makers
who were cutting the osiers for their use. In this fatal dialogue the
suspicions of the neighbouring townsfolk were revealed to him for
the first time.
'A cupboard close to his bed, and the key in her pocket. Ah!' said
one.
'And a blue phial therein-h'm!' said another.
'And spurge-laurel leaves among the hearth-ashes. Oh-oh!' said a
third.
On his return home Sir William seemed to have aged years. But he
said nothing; indeed, it was a thing impossible. And from that hour a
ghastly estrangement began. She could not understand it, and
simply waited. One day he said, however, 'I must go abroad.'
'Why?' said she. 'William, have I offended you?'
'No,' said he; 'but I must go.'
She could coax little more out of him, and in itself there was
nothing unnatural in his departure, for he had been a wanderer from
his youth. In a few days he started off, apparently quite another
man than he who had rushed to her side so devotedly a few months
before.
It is not known when, or how, the rumours, which were so thick in
the atmosphere around her, actually reached the Lady Penelope's
ears, but that they did reach her there is no doubt. It was impossible
that they should not; the district teemed with them; they rustled in
the air like night-birds of evil omen. Then a reason for her husband's
departure occurred to her appalled mind, and a loss of health
became quickly apparent. She dwindled thin in the face, and the
veins in her temples could all be distinctly traced. An inner fire
seemed to be withering her away. Her rings fell off her fingers, and
her arms hung like the flails of the threshers, though they had till
lately been so round and so elastic. She wrote to her husband
repeatedly, begging him to return to her; but he, being in extreme
and wretched doubt, moreover, knowing nothing of her ill-health,
and never suspecting that the rumours had reached her also,
deemed absence best, and postponed his return awhile, giving
various good reasons for his delay.
At length, however, when the Lady Penelope had given birth to a
still- born child, her mother, the Countess, addressed a letter to Sir
William, requesting him to come back to her if he wished to see her
alive; since she was wasting away of some mysterious disease,
which seemed to be rather mental than physical. It was evident that
his mother-in-law knew nothing of the secret, for she lived at a
distance; but Sir William promptly hastened home, and stood beside
the bed of his now dying wife.
'Believe me, William,' she said when they were alone, 'I am
innocent-innocent!'
'Of what?' said he. 'Heaven forbid that I should accuse you of
anything!'
'But you do accuse me-silently!' she gasped. 'I could not write
thereon-and ask you to hear me. It was too much, too degrading.
But would that I had been less proud! They suspect me of poisoning
him, William! But, oh my dear husband, I am innocent of that
wicked crime! He died naturally. I loved you-too soon; but that was
all!'
Nothing availed to save her. The worm had gnawed too far into
her heart before Sir William's return for anything to be remedial
now; and in a few weeks she breathed her last. After her death the
people spoke louder, and her conduct became a subject of public
discussion. A little later on, the physician, who had attended the late
Sir John, heard the rumour, and came down from the place near
London to which he latterly had retired, with the express purpose of
calling upon Sir William Hervy, now staying in Casterbridge.
He stated that, at the request of a relative of Sir John's, who
wished to be assured on the matter by reason of its suddenness, he
had, with the assistance of a surgeon, made a private examination
of Sir John's body immediately after his decease, and found that it
had resulted from purely natural causes. Nobody at this time had
breathed a suspicion of foul play, and therefore nothing was said
which might afterwards have established her innocence.
It being thus placed beyond doubt that this beautiful and noble
lady had been done to death by a vile scandal that was wholly
unfounded, her husband was stung with a dreadful remorse at the
share he had taken in her misfortunes, and left the country anew,
this time never to return alive. He survived her but a few years, and
his body was brought home and buried beside his wife's under the
tomb which is still visible in the parish church. Until lately there was
a good portrait of her, in weeds for her first husband, with a cross in
her hand, at the ancestral seat of her family, where she was much
pitied, as she deserved to be. Yet there were some severe enough to
say-and these not unjust persons in other respects-that though
unquestionably innocent of the crime imputed to her, she had shown
an unseemly wantonness in contracting three marriages in such
rapid succession; that the untrue suspicion might have been ordered
by Providence (who often works indirectly) as a punishment for her
self-indulgence. Upon that point I have no opinion to offer.

The reverend the Vice-President, however, the tale being ended,

offered as his opinion that her fate ought to be quite clearly
recognized as a punishment. So thought the Churchwarden, and also
the quiet gentleman sitting near. The latter knew many other
instances in point, one of which could be narrated in a few words.
DAME THE NINTH-THE DUCHESS OF
HAMPTONSHIRE
By the Quiet Gentleman
Some fifty years ago, the then Duke of Hamptonshire, fifth of that
title, was incontestibly the head man in his county, and particularly
in the neighbourhood of Batton. He came of the ancient and loyal
family of Saxelbye, which, before its ennoblement, had numbered
many knightly and ecclesiastical celebrities in its male line. It would
have occupied a painstaking county historian a whole afternoon to
take rubbings of the numerous effigies and heraldic devices graven
to their memory on the brasses, tablets, and altar-tombs in the aisle
of the parish-church. The Duke himself, however, was a man little
attracted by ancient chronicles in stone and metal, even when they
concerned his own beginnings. He allowed his mind to linger by
preference on the many graceless and unedifying pleasures which
his position placed at his command. He could on occasion close the
mouths of his dependents by a good bomb-like oath, and he argued
doggedly with the parson on the virtues of cock-fighting and baiting
the bull.
This nobleman's personal appearance was somewhat impressive.
His complexion was that of the copper-beech tree. His frame was
stalwart, though slightly stooping. His mouth was large, and he
carried an unpolished sapling as his walking-stick, except when he
carried a spud for cutting up any thistle he encountered on his
walks. His castle stood in the midst of a park, surrounded by dusky
elms, except to the southward; and when the moon shone out, the
gleaming stone facade, backed by heavy boughs, was visible from
the distant high road as a white spot on the surface of darkness.
Though called a castle, the building was little fortified, and had been
erected with greater eye to internal convenience than those crannied
places of defence to which the name strictly appertains. It was a
castellated mansion as regular as a chessboard on its ground-plan,
ornamented with make-believe bastions and machicolations, behind
which were stacks of battlemented chimneys. On still mornings, at
the fire-lighting hour, when ghostly house-maids stalk the corridors,
and thin streaks of light through the shutter- chinks lend startling
winks and smiles to ancestors on canvas, twelve or fifteen thin
stems of blue smoke sprouted upwards from these chimney- tops,
and spread into a flat canopy on high. Around the site stretched ten
thousand acres of good, fat, unimpeachable soil, plentiful in glades
and lawns wherever visible from the castle-windows, and merging in
homely arable where screened from the too curious eye by
ingeniously- contrived plantations.
Some way behind the owner of all this came the second man in
the parish, the rector, the Honourable and Reverend Mr. Oldbourne,
a widower, over stiff and stern for a clergyman, whose severe white
neckcloth, well-kept gray hair, and right-lined face betokened none
of those sympathetic traits whereon depends so much of a parson's
power to do good among his fellow-creatures. The last, far-removed
man of the series-altogether the Neptune of these local primaries-
was the curate, Mr. Alwyn Hill. He was a handsome young deacon
with curly hair, dreamy eyes-so dreamy that to look long into them
was like ascending and floating among summer clouds-a complexion
as fresh as a flower, and a chin absolutely beardless. Though his age
was about twenty-five, he looked not much over nineteen.
The rector had a daughter called Emmeline, of so sweet and
simple a nature that her beauty was discovered, measured, and
inventoried by almost everybody in that part of the country before it
was suspected by herself to exist. She had been bred in comparative
solitude; a rencounter with men troubled and confused her.
Whenever a strange visitor came to her father's house she slipped
into the orchard and remained till he was gone, ridiculing her
weakness in apostrophes, but unable to overcome it. Her virtues lay
in no resistant force of character, but in a natural inappetency for
evil things, which to her were as unmeaning as joints of flesh to a
herbivorous creature. Her charms of person, manner, and mind, had
been clear for some time to the Antinous in orders, and no less so to
the Duke, who, though scandalously ignorant of dainty phrases, ever
showing a clumsy manner towards the gentler sex, and, in short, not
at all a lady's man, took fire to a degree that was wellnigh terrible at
sudden sight of Emmeline, a short time after she was turned
seventeen.
It occurred one afternoon at the corner of a shrubbery between
the castle and the rectory, where the Duke was standing to watch
the heaving of a mole, when the fair girl brushed past at a distance
of a few yards, in the full light of the sun, and without hat or bonnet.
The Duke went home like a man who had seen a spirit. He ascended
to the picture- gallery of his castle, and there passed some time in
staring at the bygone beauties of his line as if he had never before
considered what an important part those specimens of womankind
had played in the evolution of the Saxelbye race. He dined alone,
drank rather freely, and declared to himself that Emmeline
Oldbourne must be his.
Meanwhile there had unfortunately arisen between the curate and
this girl some sweet and secret understanding. Particulars of the
attachment remained unknown then and always, but it was plainly
not approved of by her father. His procedure was cold, hard, and
inexorable. Soon the curate disappeared from the parish, almost
suddenly, after bitter and hard words had been heard to pass
between him and the rector one evening in the garden, intermingled
with which, like the cries of the dying in the din of battle, were the
beseeching sobs of a woman. Not long after this it was announced
that a marriage between the Duke and Miss Oldbourne was to be
solemnized at a surprisingly early date.
The wedding-day came and passed; and she was a Duchess.
Nobody seemed to think of the ousted man during the day, or else
those who thought of him concealed their meditations. Some of the
less subservient ones were disposed to speak in a jocular manner of
the august husband and wife, others to make correct and pretty
speeches about them, according as their sex and nature dictated.
But in the evening, the ringers in the belfry, with whom Alwyn had
been a favourite, eased their minds a little concerning the gentle
young man, and the possible regrets of the woman he had loved.
'Don't you see something wrong in it all?' said the third bell as he
wiped his face. 'I know well enough where she would have liked to
stable her horses to-night, when they have done their journey.'
'That is, you would know if you could tell where young Mr. Hill is
living, which is known to none in the parish.'
'Except to the lady that this ring o' grandsire triples is in honour
of.'
Yet these friendly cottagers were at this time far from suspecting
the real dimensions of Emmeline's misery, nor was it clear even to
those who came into much closer communion with her than they, so
well had she concealed her heart-sickness. But bride and bridegroom
had not long been home at the castle when the young wife's
unhappiness became plainly enough perceptible. Her maids and men
said that she was in the habit of turning to the wainscot and
shedding stupid scalding tears at a time when a right-minded lady
would have been overhauling her wardrobe. She prayed earnestly in
the great church-pew, where she sat lonely and insignificant as a
mouse in a cell, instead of counting her rings, falling asleep, or
amusing herself in silent laughter at the queer old people in the
congregation, as previous beauties of the family had done in their
time. She seemed to care no more for eating and drinking out of
crystal and silver than from a service of earthen vessels. Her head
was, in truth, full of something else; and that such was the case was
only too obvious to the Duke, her husband. At first he would only
taunt her for her folly in thinking of that milk-and-water parson; but
as time went on his charges took a more positive shape. He would
not believe her assurance that she had in no way communicated
with her former lover, nor he with her, since their parting in the
presence of her father. This led to some strange scenes between
them which need not be detailed; their result was soon to take a
catastrophic shape.
 One dark quiet evening, about two months after the marriage, a
man entered the gate admitting from the highway to the park and
avenue which ran up to the house. He arrived within two hundred
yards of the walls, when he left the gravelled drive and drew near to
the castle by a roundabout path leading into a shrubbery. Here he
stood still. In a few minutes the strokes of the castle-clock
resounded, and then a female figure entered the same secluded
nook from an opposite direction. There the two indistinct persons
leapt together like a pair of dewdrops on a leaf; and then they stood
apart, facing each other, the woman looking down.
'Emmeline, you begged me to come, and here I am, Heaven
forgive me!' said the man hoarsely.
'You are going to emigrate, Alwyn,' she said in broken accents. 'I
have heard of it; you sail from Plymouth in three days in the
Western Glory?'
'Yes. I can live in England no longer. Life is as death to me here,'
says he.
'My life is even worse-worse than death. Death would not have
driven me to this extremity. Listen, Alwyn-I have sent for you to beg
to go with you, or at least to be near you-to do anything so that it
be not to stay here.'
'To go away with me?' he said in a startled tone.
'Yes, yes-or under your direction, or by your help in some way!
Don't be horrified at me-you must bear with me whilst I implore it.
Nothing short of cruelty would have driven me to this. I could have
borne my doom in silence had I been left unmolested; but he
tortures me, and I shall soon be in the grave if I cannot escape.'
To his shocked inquiry how her husband tortured her, the Duchess
said that it was by jealousy. 'He tries to wring admissions from me
concerning you,' she said, 'and will not believe that I have not
communicated with you since my engagement to him was settled by
my father, and I was forced to agree to it.'
The poor curate said that this was the heaviest news of all. 'He
has not personally ill-used you?' he asked.
 'Yes,' she whispered.
'What has he done?'
She looked fearfully around, and said, sobbing: 'In trying to make
me confess to what I have never done, he adopts plans I dare not
describe for terrifying me into a weak state, so that I may own to
anything! I resolved to write to you, as I had no other friend.' She
added, with dreary irony, 'I thought I would give him some ground
for his suspicion, so as not to disgrace his judgment.'
'Do you really mean, Emmeline,' he tremblingly inquired, 'that
you-that you want to fly with me?'
'Can you think that I would act otherwise than in earnest at such a
time as this?'
He was silent for a minute or more. 'You must not go with me,' he
said.
'Why?'
'It would be sin.'
'It cannot be sin, for I have never wanted to commit sin in my life;
and it isn't likely I would begin now, when I pray every day to die
and be sent to Heaven out of my misery!'
'But it is wrong, Emmeline, all the same.'
'Is it wrong to run away from the fire that scorches you?'
'It would look wrong, at any rate, in this case.'
'Alwyn, Alwyn, take me, I beseech you!' she burst out. 'It is not
right in general, I know, but it is such an exceptional instance, this.
Why has such a severe strain been put upon me? I was doing no
harm, injuring no one, helping many people, and expecting
happiness; yet trouble came. Can it be that God holds me in
derision? I had no supporter-I gave way; and now my life is a
burden and a shame to me . . . Oh, if you only knew how much to
me this request to you is-how my life is wrapped up in it, you could
not deny me!'
'This is almost beyond endurance-Heaven support us,' he groaned.
'Emmy, you are the Duchess of Hamptonshire, the Duke of
Hamptonshire's wife; you must not go with me!'
'And am I then refused?-Oh, am I refused?' she cried frantically.
'Alwyn, Alwyn, do you say it indeed to me?'
'Yes, I do, dear, tender heart! I do most sadly say it. You must not
go. Forgive me, for there is no alternative but refusal. Though I die,
though you die, we must not fly together. It is forbidden in God's
law. Good-bye, for always and ever!'
He tore himself away, hastened from the shrubbery, and vanished
among the trees.
Three days after this meeting and farewell, Alwyn, his soft,
handsome features stamped with a haggard hardness that ten years
of ordinary wear and tear in the world could scarcely have produced,
sailed from Plymouth on a drizzling morning, in the passenger-ship
Western Glory. When the land had faded behind him he mechanically
endeavoured to school himself into a stoical frame of mind. His
attempt, backed up by the strong moral staying power that had
enabled him to resist the passionate temptation to which Emmeline,
in her reckless trustfulness, had exposed him, was rewarded by a
certain kind of success, though the murmuring stretch of waters
whereon he gazed day after day too often seemed to be articulating
to him in tones of her well-remembered voice.
He framed on his journey rules of conduct for reducing to mild
proportions the feverish regrets which would occasionally arise and
agitate him, when he indulged in visions of what might have been
had he not hearkened to the whispers of conscience. He fixed his
thoughts for so many hours a day on philosophical passages in the
volumes he had brought with him, allowing himself now and then a
few minutes' thought of Emmeline, with the strict yet reluctant
niggardliness of an ailing epicure proportioning the rank drinks that
cause his malady. The voyage was marked by the usual incidents of
a sailing-passage in those days-a storm, a calm, a man overboard, a
birth, and a funeral-the latter sad event being one in which he, as
the only clergyman on board, officiated, reading the service ordained
for the purpose. The ship duly arrived at Boston early in the month
following, and thence he proceeded to Providence to seek out a
distant relative.
After a short stay at Providence he returned again to Boston, and
by applying himself to a serious occupation made good progress in
shaking off the dreary melancholy which enveloped him even now.
Distracted and weakened in his beliefs by his recent experiences, he
decided that he could not for a time worthily fill the office of a
minister of religion, and applied for the mastership of a school. Some
introductions, given him before starting, were useful now, and he
soon became known as a respectable scholar and gentleman to the
trustees of one of the colleges. This ultimately led to his retirement
from the school and installation in the college as Professor of
rhetoric and oratory.
Here and thus he lived on, exerting himself solely because of a
conscientious determination to do his duty. He passed his winter
evenings in turning sonnets and elegies, often giving his thoughts
voice in 'Lines to an Unfortunate Lady,' while his summer leisure at
the same hour would be spent in watching the lengthening shadows
from his window, and fancifully comparing them with the shades of
his own life. If he walked, he mentally inquired which was the
eastern quarter of the landscape, and thought of two thousand miles
of water that way, and of what was beyond it. In a word he was at
all spare times dreaming of her who was only a memory to him, and
would probably never be more.
Nine years passed by, and under their wear and tear Alwyn Hill's
face lost a great many of the attractive characteristics which had
formerly distinguished it. He was kind to his pupils and affable to all
who came in contact with him; but the kernel of his life, his secret,
was kept as snugly shut up as though he had been dumb. In talking
to his acquaintances of England and his life there, he omitted the
episode of Batton Castle and Emmeline as if it had no existence in
his calendar at all. Though of towering importance to himself, it had
filled but a short and small fragment of time, an ephemeral season
which would have been wellnigh imperceptible, even to him, at this
distance, but for the incident it enshrined.
 One day, at this date, when cursorily glancing over an old English
newspaper, he observed a paragraph which, short as it was,
contained for him whole tomes of thrilling information-rung with
more passion-stirring rhythm than the collected cantos of all the
poets. It was an announcement of the death of the Duke of
Hamptonshire, leaving behind him a widow, but no children.
The current of Alwyn's thoughts now completely changed. On
looking again at the newspaper he found it to be one that was sent
him long ago, and had been carelessly thrown aside. But for an
accidental overhauling of the waste journals in his study he might
not have known of the event for years. At this moment of reading
the Duke had already been dead seven months. Alwyn could now no
longer bind himself down to machine- made synecdoche, antithesis,
and climax, being full of spontaneous specimens of all these
rhetorical forms, which he dared not utter. Who shall wonder that his
mind luxuriated in dreams of a sweet possibility now laid open for
the first time these many years? for Emmeline was to him now as
ever the one dear thing in all the world. The issue of his silent
romancing was that he resolved to return to her at the very earliest
moment.
But he could not abandon his professional work on the instant. He
did not get really quite free from engagements till four months later;
but, though suffering throes of impatience continually, he said to
himself every day: 'If she has continued to love me nine years she
will love me ten; she will think the more tenderly of me when her
present hours of solitude shall have done their proper work; old
times will revive with the cessation of her recent experience, and
every day will favour my return.'
The enforced interval soon passed, and he duly arrived in England,
reaching the village of Batton on a certain winter day between
twelve and thirteen months subsequent to the time of the Duke's
death.
It was evening; yet such was Alwyn's impatience that he could not
forbear taking, this very night, one look at the castle which
Emmeline had entered as unhappy mistress ten years before. He
threaded the park trees, gazed in passing at well-known outlines
which rose against the dim sky, and was soon interested in
observing that lively country- people, in parties of two and three,
were walking before and behind him up the interlaced avenue to the
castle gateway. Knowing himself to be safe from recognition, Alwyn
inquired of one of these pedestrians what was going on.
'Her Grace gives her tenantry a ball to-night, to keep up the old
custom of the Duke and his father before him, which she does not
wish to change.'
'Indeed. Has she lived here entirely alone since the Duke's death?'
'Quite alone. But though she doesn't receive company herself, she
likes the village people to enjoy themselves, and often has 'em here.'
'Kind-hearted, as always!' thought Alwyn.
On reaching the castle he found that the great gates at the
tradesmen's entrance were thrown back against the wall as if they
were never to be closed again; that the passages and rooms in that
wing were brilliantly lighted up, some of the numerous candles
guttering down over the green leaves which decorated them, and
upon the silk dresses of the happy farmers' wives as they passed
beneath, each on her husband's arm. Alwyn found no difficulty in
marching in along with the rest, the castle being Liberty Hall to-
night. He stood unobserved in a corner of the large apartment
where dancing was about to begin.
'Her Grace, though hardly out of mourning, will be sure to come
down and lead off the dance with neighbour Bates,' said one.
'Who is neighbour Bates?' asked Alwyn.
'An old man she respects much-the oldest of her tenant-farmers.
He was seventy-eight his last birthday.'
'Ah, to be sure!' said Alwyn, at his ease. 'I remember.'
The dancers formed in line, and waited. A door opened at the
farther end of the hall, and a lady in black silk came forth. She
bowed, smiled, and proceeded to the top of the dance.
 'Who is that lady?' said Alwyn, in a puzzled tone. 'I thought you
told me that the Duchess of Hamptonshire-'
'That is the Duchess,' said his informant.
'But there is another?'
'No; there is no other.'
'But she is not the Duchess of Hamptonshire-who used to-'
Alwyn's tongue stuck to his mouth, he could get no farther.
'What's the matter?' said his acquaintance. Alwyn had retired, and
was supporting himself against the wall.
The wretched Alwyn murmured something about a stitch in his
side from walking. Then the music struck up, the dance went on,
and his neighbour became so interested in watching the movements
of this strange Duchess through its mazes as to forget Alwyn for a
while.
It gave him an opportunity to brace himself up. He was a man
who had suffered, and he could suffer again. 'How came that person
to be your Duchess?' he asked in a firm, distinct voice, when he had
attained complete self-command. 'Where is her other Grace of
Hamptonshire? There certainly was another. I know it.'
'Oh, the previous one! Yes, yes. She ran away years and years ago
with the young curate. Mr. Hill was the young man's name, if I
recollect.'
'No! She never did. What do you mean by that?' he said.
'Yes, she certainly ran away. She met the curate in the shrubbery
about a couple of months after her marriage with the Duke. There
were folks who saw the meeting and heard some words of their talk.
They arranged to go, and she sailed from Plymouth with him a day
or two afterward.'
'That's not true.'
'Then 'tis the queerest lie ever told by man. Her father believed
and knew to his dying day that she went with him; and so did the
Duke, and everybody about here. Ay, there was a fine upset about it
at the time. The Duke traced her to Plymouth.'
 'Traced her to Plymouth?'
'He traced her to Plymouth, and set on his spies; and they found
that she went to the shipping-office, and inquired if Mr. Alwyn Hill
had entered his name as passenger by the Western Glory; and when
she found that he had, she booked herself for the same ship, but not
in her real name. When the vessel had sailed a letter reached the
Duke from her, telling him what she had done. She never came back
here again. His Grace lived by himself a number of years, and
married this lady only twelve months before he died.'
Alwyn was in a state of indescribable bewilderment. But,
unmanned as he was, he called the next day on the, to him,
spurious Duchess of Hamptonshire. At first she was alarmed at his
statement, then cold, then she was won over by his condition to give
confidence for confidence. She showed him a letter which had been
found among the papers of the late Duke, corroborating what
Alwyn's informant had detailed. It was from Emmeline, bearing the
postmarked date at which the Western Glory sailed, and briefly
stated that she had emigrated by that ship to America.
Alwyn applied himself body and mind to unravel the remainder of
the mystery. The story repeated to him was always the same: 'She
ran away with the curate.' A strangely circumstantial piece of
intelligence was added to this when he had pushed his inquiries a
little further. There was given him the name of a waterman at
Plymouth, who had come forward at the time that she was missed
and sought for by her husband, and had stated that he put her on
board the Western Glory at dusk one evening before that vessel
sailed.
After several days of search about the alleys and quays of
Plymouth Barbican, during which these impossible words, 'She ran
off with the curate,' became branded on his brain, Alwyn found this
important waterman. He was positive as to the truth of his story, still
remembering the incident well, and he described in detail the lady's
dress, as he had long ago described it to her husband, which
description corresponded in every particular with the dress worn by
Emmeline on the evening of their parting.
 Before proceeding to the other side of the Atlantic to continue his
inquiries there, the puzzled and distracted Alwyn set himself to
ascertain the address of Captain Wheeler, who had commanded the
Western Glory in the year of Alwyn's voyage out, and immediately
wrote a letter to him on the subject.
The only circumstances which the sailor could recollect or discover
from his papers in connection with such a story were, that a woman
bearing the name which Alwyn had mentioned as fictitious certainly
did come aboard for a voyage he made about that time; that she
took a common berth among the poorest emigrants; that she died
on the voyage out, at about five days' sail from Plymouth; that she
seemed a lady in manners and education. Why she had not applied
for a first-class passage, why she had no trunks, they could not
guess, for though she had little money in her pocket she had that
about her which would have fetched it. 'We buried her at sea,'
continued the captain. 'A young parson, one of the cabin-
passengers, read the burial-service over her, I remember well.'
The whole scene and proceedings darted upon Alwyn's
recollection in a moment. It was a fine breezy morning on that long-
past voyage out, and he had been told that they were running at the
rate of a hundred and odd miles a day. The news went round that
one of the poor young women in the other part of the vessel was ill
of fever, and delirious. The tidings caused no little alarm among all
the passengers, for the sanitary conditions of the ship were anything
but satisfactory. Shortly after this the doctor announced that she had
died. Then Alwyn had learnt that she was laid out for burial in great
haste, because of the danger that would have been incurred by
delay. And next the funeral scene rose before him, and the
prominent part that he had taken in that solemn ceremony. The
captain had come to him, requesting him to officiate, as there was
no chaplain on board. This he had agreed to do; and as the sun
went down with a blaze in his face he read amidst them all
assembled: 'We therefore commit her body to the deep, to be turned
into corruption, looking for the resurrection of the body when the
sea shall give up her dead.'
 The captain also forwarded the addresses of the ship's matron and
of other persons who had been engaged on board at the date. To
these Alwyn went in the course of time. A categorical description of
the clothes of the dead truant, the colour of her hair, and other
things, extinguished for ever all hope of a mistake in identity.
At last, then, the course of events had become clear. On that
unhappy evening when he left Emmeline in the shrubbery, forbidding
her to follow him because it would be a sin, she must have
disobeyed. She must have followed at his heels silently through the
darkness, like a poor pet animal that will not be driven back. She
could have accumulated nothing for the journey more than she
might have carried in her hand; and thus poorly provided she must
have embarked. Her intention had doubtless been to make her
presence on board known to him as soon as she could muster
courage to do so.
Thus the ten years' chapter of Alwyn Hill's romance wound itself
up under his eyes. That the poor young woman in the steerage had
been the young Duchess of Hamptonshire was never publicly
disclosed. Hill had no longer any reason for remaining in England,
and soon after left its shores with no intention to return. Previous to
his departure he confided his story to an old friend from his native
town-grandfather of the person who now relates it to you.

A few members, including the Bookworm, seemed to be

impressed by the quiet gentleman's tale; but the member we have
called the Spark-who, by the way, was getting somewhat tinged with
the light of other days, and owned to eight-and-thirty-walked daintily
about the room instead of sitting down by the fire with the majority
and said that for his part he preferred something more lively than
the last story-something in which such long-separated lovers were
ultimately united. He also liked stories that were more modern in
their date of action than those he had heard to-day.
Members immediately requested him to give them a specimen, to
which the Spark replied that he didn't mind, as far as that went. And
though the Vice-President, the Man of Family, the Colonel, and
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