from availing himself of the solemn decision in his favor. What will explain that unanimity except a something underneath which Drake's opponents and Mendoza's friends dared not risk to have unearthed? But the case does not rest here. | one is agreed that the trial never took There is still the sequel, and everything place. John Doughty was willing we know of it leads to the same con- enough to proceed; so fierce indeed clusion. When Drake, to the marvel was his resentment that, despairing of of all the world, came back with his legal redress, he not long afterwards prodigious plunder, the Spanish am- undertook for a great reward offered by bassador at once demanded his con- the king of Spain to assassinate his demnation as a pirate. Burghley brother's judge. Such being John supported the demand. Fully alive to Doughty's frame of mind, it must inhis danger now that diplomatic rela-deed have been strong unanimity in tions with Spain were restored, Drake the Council which could prevent him began scattering presents right and left. Besides the lord admiral, Burghley was almost the only man who refused his bribe. Yet so formidable was the opposition with which Drake was confronted that for six months the world was in doubt whether his reward was If the story which Cooke's narrative to be a rope or an accolade; and it is unmistakably suggests be true, the myscertain that if the party in the Council tery is made plain. It is a solution who were acting against him and his which may be right or may be wrong. noble shareholders could have used We may treat Doughty's admissions as Doughty's death for their purpose, worthless, although they were against they would not have hesitated to do interest; we may call Cooke unworthy SO. But it is equally certain that for of belief, although on the vital points some reason the affair was hushed up. he is corroborated by the depositions ; The evidence we know was actually but of argument against the probability laid before Dr. Lewes of the Admiralty of the story I have been unable to Court, but nothing came of it. It meet with a shred, except an outcry was not that Doughty's brother, who that to conceive Burghley capable of had come home with Drake thirsting such conduct is an insult to his memfor revenge, did not demand redress, ory. To think of the minister, whose or that the law was not on his side.name we are accustomed to associate By a curious chance we know not only with all that is great in Elizabeth's that he did take proceedings, but also reign, deliberately setting to work to that Drake's commission would not mar the success of the most famous avail to stop them. For in the great achievement of her time, is an idea debate which took place in 1628 on startling enough to throw any historian martial law, Sir Edward Coke quoted out of a judicial attitude. His mind the case as a precedent. The report revolts from even suspecting the great which Rushworth has preserved to us, lord treasurer on evidence so fragmenin that pregnant simplicity our law-tary of a disgraceful piece of policy. books know no more, runs thus: But to say that he set Doughty to "Drake slew Doughty beyond sea. thwart Drake's raid into the South Sea Doughty's brother desired an appeal is to lay to his charge nothing of which in the Constable's and Marshal's court; he need be ashamed. For although we resolved by Wray and the other judges who know what followed have come he may sue there.” 2 It was decided, to regard Drake's triumphant lawlessthat is to say, by the lord chief justice ness as one of the brightest points in and the whole court of Queen's Bench our national reputation, Burghley with that Drake, having nothing to show the future still dark could see it against the rule, was to be tried for as nothing but a monstrous piece of murder by court-martial. And yet every piracy which, if successful, must plunge his country into an unequal war. braving his mistress's displeasure to 1 S. P. Dom. Eliz. 1582, eliv. fol. 63. Rushworth, abridged edition, vol. ii., p. 4. In avert the threatened disaster by means | shrewdness, a sweet little mouth and which were fully recognized in the ear, an elegant turned-up nose, and delpolitical morality of the day, he was doing an act that, so far from being disgraceful, can only add lustre to his almost blameless career. JULIAN CORBETT. From The Cornhill Magazine. A FLORIDA GIRL. CHAPTER I. MR. EZRA TUNKS and Miss Mercy Tunks were two of the most valuable settlers in their part of Polk county, Florida. Of course they were valuable for different reasons. Ezra was reckoned a first-rate settler because he could turn his hands to many and various things. He had edited the Clearwater Chronicle for a fortnight, and he was great at orange-growing and making wheelbarAs editor, he had started in the above well-known journal the plan of giving every female new-comer with a mole on her right arm an acre of excellent land over and above her family's ownings or purchases. The Clearwater Chronicle was dispersed all over the continent, and rows. there was, subsequently, a decided influx of settlers with and without wives and daughters having moles on their right arms. His "Aphorism" column, as he called it, was thought a very "cute feature of the Chronicle." Here are two specimens of his aphorisms: The old year is rapidly drawing to a close. Don't overestimate your position, young man. In addition to all this, Ezra was very hospitable to new-comers, boarding them with his daughter Mercy at two dollars a day, just for all the world as if his house were an hotel. As a rule, however, he sold them land as some set-off to this generosity. Mercy Tunks was a pretty girl after the American style. That is to say, she was fascinatingly self-conscious, impudent to the last degree, with grey eyes showing a desperate amount of icate small hands and feet. To trace the origin of these last would have baffled the genius of the most skilled of anthropologists, for Mercy's father wore immeasurable boots, her mother (now dead) had had limbs with appendages as large as President Lincoln's, and her grand-parents were so plebeian that they were never mentioned even in the Tunks' democratic home-circle. To tell the truth, however, though she spoke like a British kitchenmaid, and had manners inconvenient for polite life, she was a girl to run after. least, that was the idea of her that soon possessed Polk county. At But Mercy though eighteen (in Florida a full-ripe age for matrimony), She had hitherto mocked mankind. affected to be too lazy even to smile upon her suitors, which, of course, made them yearn all the more for a glance, even though a contemptuous one, from her lovely eyes. She was fonder of nothing than lolling about in the sunshine, with or without a ten-cent novel (pirated from the talent of England) in her brown little hand. Her father adored Miss Tunks, which was quite in the order of nature. He was certainly an uncouth-looking gentleman to be blessed with such an off spring. He was lean as a lath, and much too tall to be symmetrical. A grey tuft of beard hung from his chin, and gave him something to hold when his hands were at a loss for occupation. He generally went about in his shirtsleeves, wearing a sugarloaf-crowned straw hat immense of brim. "My gal!" said Ezra Tunks one sweltering August day, as he sat cocked up against the outer wall of his wooden house on the side of Clearwater Lake, "I guess we'll have to get a young Englishman, like other folk. They're real good at hard work while they last. Them blacks is the very Satan to the pocket at two dollars the day." tween two of the green posts of the verandalı, and one of her fair slim ankles hung gracefully over the edge of the tissue. and grease into his old carcase, and then said he felt — well, emptyish !" "Great Scott!" exclaimed Ezra Tunks, paling through his mahoganycolored skin. "A meal like that three nig-times a day! and rice six cents the "There's no objection, eh ?" "None from me, you bet, pa; gers ain't sassiety, and I'm dead weary pound in the Clearwater stores, let of Dr. Smith." alone his two dollars a day! This young Britisher'll come just in time to dig the sweet taters and cut the cane of "Ah, there you're kinder wrong chile. The doctor has a very pretty balance of dollars in the Jacksonville the new one-acre patch. That'll do Bank, I can tell thee ! " "Wal, let him. He's five-and-thirty, and full of grey hairs." Mr. Tunks laughed ironically.. "Five-and-thirty's the prime time of manhood, and you won't find many in these parts as have got their wisdom without getting grey along of it!" "Wal, that may be, pa. It don't make any difference to my feelings for Dr. Smith. You can anyhow fix that Englishman, and welcome. He ought to be one as can pump, though!" Mr. Tunks straightway took a pencil from his waistcoat-pocket and scribbled off the following advertisement, which duly appeared in the London Times three weeks later: "A Genuine Opportunity. — Wanted a young gentleman apprentice to the orange-growing. Premium, two hundred dollars. All found, and the industry taught gratis; must be strong and willing to work; preferred with a knowledge of pumping. Chance of partnership afterwards, perhaps. Write to Mr. Ezra Tunks, Clearwater, Polk County, Florida.” "It's a bit patchey, pa, ain't it? But it'll do," murmured Miss Mercy, as she held the slip between her dapper finger and thumb. "My goodness! I wonder who he'll be like to?" "Never you mind that, chile. It's made to catch one of the strong, soft sort, and that's what we desiderate, I guess. It's his arms and legs we pine for, and his bit of money too. It'll give us excuse to shunt that old hoss, Luke, who eats nicely!" "Do Englishmen eat much, pa ?" "They generally die, my chile leastways in Florida. There's a graveyard in Portlock, by the Gulf, with only fifteen heaps in it, and twelve of them's over British bones. It don't suit their constitution, I reckon. It's very sad for them, but we can't help that, can we, if they will come courting of death as they do?" "I guess you're right," murmured Mercy, as she gazed dreamily across the glittering lake at the dark green woods on the other side, canopied by the blue heavens. "Times are I can't make out why God made folks!" "My chile, that ain't no business of ours. We show our gratitude and wit sufficiently, I reckon, if we use his manufactures just as smartly as we know how." Mercy's only comment upon this wicked philosophy was a sleepy "Wal." It was so hot that she fell asleep the next moment, in spite of the mosquitoes and the noisy grunting of a mockingbird in imitation of an old sow. CHAPTER II. one THE scene changes to an ancient, gabled manor-house in Buckinghamshire. An important enough house two or three hundred years ago; for traces of its past greatness still remained in the sunken moat on side, now smoothed off into a paddock. Formerly peacocks sunned themselves on the green, raised bank of garden at the back of the building. But these "Lor, papa, if you'd have seen him fair old times were gone for Dunthis very morning at breakfast. I de-combe Manor. Sheep now nibbled the clare I thought he'd never have done. grass to the very windows of the house, He packed about three pounds of rice and the flower-beds nurtured many a weed. An air of genteel neglect per- then looked up at his wife in a faintly vaded the house and grounds alike. scared way. The same might have been said of Pitt Duncombe, Esq., himself, the present owner of the manor. He was sauntering about the dishevelled lawn in a coat of rusty velveteen with his hands in his pockets. His countenance was eloquent of hard times, agricultural depression, recalcitrant farmers, unlet homesteads, and that sort of thing. And yet there was a subdued sweetness in his expression that told of the gentlemanly heart within him. If you could have read his thoughts, you would have found them to this effect: "You don't mean that you think it would do for either of "Inherent nonsense! You are really quite a fool, Pitt. If the world is to be cut to suit your sons' tastes, well and good; the sooner it's done the better for them. But you know — you've said it yourself scores of times that they've got to face a new condition of things. I should say you couldn't do better for him, and there's an end of it. He's a heavy drag on us now, and we can't afford it. Put it to him, and you'll see." ria "A man can put up with Fortune's knocks well enough so long as they hit him and no one else. But the ricochet! that's where the rub comes in. How "If he were your own son, Main the world are the boys going to make their way in life, handicapped as they are by their gentility? This gentility seems a most unmarketable quality, Heaven help us! "If he were my own son, I should settle the matter without all this weak preamble; but, as he isn't, I can only give you my opinion. You will, of course, disregard it; but I shall at least have the consolation of knowing that I tried to save one of your sons from the ruin he's sure to come to if he stays here doing nothing." "There's Ralph! He's the very fellow for a soldier, like his uncles and great-uncles; but he can't get through his exams, and mess expenses would break him altogether. Bob, too, poor fellow, has nothing but his fine face Mr. Duncombe put his hands to his and strong limbs. That last report of forehead as his wife sailed back into him from Harrow was a nice thing: the house with an indignant rustle of 'Shows extraordinary talent in remain- her dress. He wandered away from ing in a form among boys two or three the house, descended the worn old years junior to him.' And now he has steps that once connected the park been at home two years-there's no money for Oxford or Cambridge in his case, even if he could qualify. Well, well, thank Heaven, a hundred years hence it will be of no consequence to any one." Mr. Duncombe was proceeding with these unprofitable reflections, so bitter to the man of sixty, when a lady stepped upon the lawn by the French window of one of the lower rooms of the house. land with the manor gardens, and strolled idly among the old oaks of the pasture. The leaves were changing color fast, and the air was crisper than it ought to have been in September. Pitt Duncombe's thoughts were now less pleasant than ever. This notion that his wife had thrust into his mind was of so composite a kind. It was natural that a stepmother (especially when her money was the sole stay of the establishment) should make no pretence of caring about her stepsons; but should he, his boys' father, act as if he also were indifferent to them? Florida! Why, surely that meant "Read it, and you will see its appli- death to an Englishman! Fevers, cation fast enough." brawls, the unaccustomed climate, Mr. Duncombe took the Times, and snakes - by one or other of these "Read that," she said, somewhat peremptorily. "It seems quite providential." "What is it about, Maria ?” causes it seemed to him that the emi- | don't know so much about pumps. I grant of gentle origin was sure to come to a speedy and tragic end. He sat down on the dry root of an oak-tree, and was endeavoring to take a more dispassionate view of the case when the near crack of a gun made him start upon his feet. "By Jove, dad!" cried a broadshouldered young man in knickerbockers, clapping a hand upon his thigh as he held his smoking gun aside, "I nearly had you. Fancy you being there!" like that chance of partnership afterwards.' Whereabouts is Florida, dad? and how much is a dollar? Come, dear old dad, don't make so much of it. What does it matter if one chick leaves the nest, when there are so many oth ers ?" Bob Duncombe put his arm round his father's neck, and would have sacrificed a year's partridge-shooting to know what to say to chase away the sadness on the old man's face. It was more than sadness, however; it was "Never mind, Bob. A miss is as despair; for Bob was his favorite son, good as a "As a mile, eh? I am so fond of those old proverbs, because a fellow can remember them, somehow. I've potted three and a half brace - not bad in an hour, you know, is it? But I say, why do you look so down, old dad ?" "Do I? I didn't know. To tell you the truth, my boy, I was thinking about you!" "Oh, come! well, I am sorry the thought of me has such an effect upon you. Tell me, what is it? I'll do anything any mortal thing that man can do to please you- you know I will, if I can!" "Yes, yes, my boy. I was hoping something might happen. We Duncombes are not so clever as other people, I suppose ! " and therefore, as he fancied, the one least in the esteem of his second wife. "If I were free," Pitt Duncombe said, somewhat brokenly, "how I should like to go with you! We'd make a new house for the old family, wouldn't we?" "Ay, that we would. But I tell you what, if when we've talked it over, we all like the idea, I'll go out for a year at any rate. If I don't do much by then, why I can come back, can't I, like so many others?" "Yes, that's true, my boy; and there's no knowing what may happen in a year. Suppose we get home, and have a chat about it before lunch ?" This they did, the palaver being held in an old summer-house at one corner of the lawn. The result was that Bob Duncombe accepted Florida as his destiny. A letter was written to Mr. Tunks (whose name, thought Mr. Duncombe, was the most frightful feature of a bad business), and Bob Duncombe followed the letter, with 1007. in his pocket, two leathern portmanteaux, and a gun-case. Though he had no knowledge of pump "It is this that has excited her to-ing, he surmised, with a shrewdness day; read it, if you like. I have nothing to do with it, one way or the other." The young man took the paper, and spent fully two minutes in digesting Mr. Tunks's advertisement; he was so very slow and dense. "I see," he exclaimed at length, looking up with sparkling sparkling eyes. wonderful in such a young man, that Mr. Tunks would be perfectly willing to engage him as an apprentice. Save for the separation from his father, he much enjoyed the idea of seeing something of a far country. CHAPTER III. WHEN Bob Duncombe arrived at "Well, I'll go and gladly, though I Clearwater he was in tip-top condition. |