Read Ebook: Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature Science and Art Fifth Series No. 30 Vol. I July 26 1884 by Various

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'It can be done, I think.... You have been told that it was I who, in my enmity to Shield, took advantage of his long absence and silence to set abroad the report that he was married. I did not. The story was on the tongue of everybody hereabouts for months, and I, like the rest, believed it. There are only two men who would have said that I spoke the falsehood--the one is the man who invented it; the other is Shield himself.'

'You knew the man?'

'I did.'

'Then why, why did you not denounce him in time?'

'Because I did not know him until after your mother's wedding; and then I thought she would learn the truth only too soon for her peace of mind.'

'How did you discover him, then?'

'The scoundrel revealed himself. He came to me, and insolently told me that, knowing the state of affairs between Shield and me, he thought he would do me a good service. So he had given him a blow which he would not get over in a hurry. I knew something of the man, and at once suspected his meaning. I inquired how he had struck the blow; and he explained that it was he who had brought about matters so that when Shield came home he found his sweetheart already married to somebody else.'

Poor Madge was weeping bitter tears in her heart, but there were none in her eyes: they were full of eagerness and wonder. She was drawing nearer and nearer to the truth, which would enable her to effect the purpose Philip so much desired.

'It is the advantage of my nature,' Mr Hadleigh went on calmly, 'that I can listen to a scoundrel without losing temper. On this occasion, I asked how he knew that Shield had returned. "I have seen him," he said; "and he is cut up enough to please even you. Now, having done this job for you, I expect you to give me something for my trouble."--"How much?"--"A hundred is not too much to ask for the satisfaction of knowing that your bitterest foe has got it hot."--I asked him to write down that he had been the first to report in the village that Austin Shield was married, although at the time he had no authority for the statement.--"That looks like a confession," he said.--"Exactly. I mean it to be one."--After thinking for a moment, the fellow said: "All right; it won't matter to me, for to-morrow I am off to the diggings."'

Mr Hadleigh stopped and looked out at the window again, as if the scene he was recalling even now filled him with indignation. He resumed:

'When he had written the memorandum and signed it, I told him my opinion of his villainous transaction, and threatened to have him horsewhipped through the village. At the same time I rang the bell. Although disappointed, "Bah!" said he; "I always thought you were a sneak, without the pluck to give the fellow who hates you a hiding. Shield has the right stuff in him; he gave me the money for telling him that you employed me to tell the lie. That paper you swindled out of me isn't worth a rap. You have no witnesses."--He got out of the room before I could reach him, and escaped pursuit.... He was right; the paper was useless to me.'

'Who was the man?'

'Richard Towers. Your aunt will tell you what a scamp he was.'

'But what motive could he have for such a cruel wrong?'

'Unknown to Shield, he was his rival; and it was his own satisfaction he sought in spreading the falsehood, as it was his own interests he served by endeavouring to make capital of it out of both Shield and me by playing upon the unfortunate misunderstandings between us.'

Madge was now calm and thoughtful. She, too, saw what a powerless instrument the villain's memorandum was unless it could be proved that he had written it. Who would not say Mr Hadleigh himself had written it, to escape blame?

'Have you got the memorandum still?' she asked suddenly. 'Will you give it to me?'

'But it is useless, except to satisfy those who trust me that I had no part in the disgraceful affair.'

'It is not quite useless, Mr Hadleigh. There are letters bearing that man's name amongst my grandfather's papers, and Mr Shield can compare the handwriting. That will be enough to assure him that you are blameless, even if he be so ungenerous as you imagine. Give me the paper.'

A clever thought; and Mr Hadleigh was struck by her quickness in seeing it and the energy with which she took up his cause. He did not know that she was working for Philip.

'You will make a good advocate,' he said with that far-off look in his eyes. 'You shall have the paper. It is in the safe in my room.'

'Thank you, thank you! I will wait here till you send it to me.'

THE LARGEST STATUES IN THE WORLD, ANCIENT AND MODERN.

Certain it is that these ancient builders knew well how to get over, and did get over, prodigious difficulties, as witness their obelisks, and the enormous stones which compose the platform of the magnificent Temple of the Sun at Baalbec. As there is no stone quarry near, how these vast stones could possibly have been conveyed thither in the first place, and then raised to their position, has been an enigma to all modern architects and engineers by whom the temple has been critically examined, and who have freely confessed that, even with all our modern science of steam-cranes, hydraulic jacks, and railways, the transport and raising of such immense cyclopean masses would have undoubtedly presented many serious difficulties, if indeed it could be accomplished at all.

Many of our readers will doubtless remember Mr Poynter's grand picture in the Royal Academy of London, a few years ago, entitled 'Israel in Egypt.' It represented an enormous mass of sculpture mounted on a wheeled truck, dragged along by hundreds of the unfortunate captive Israelites, who are smarting under the whips of their cruel drivers. Mr Poynter had good authority for his 'motive-power' as shown in his picture. So far as we can discover from ancient works or ancient sculptures, the hugest stone masses were transported mainly by force of human muscles, with few mechanical expedients. Levers and rollers seem to have been almost, if not altogether, unknown. The mass was generally placed on a kind of sledge, the ground over which it was to pass lubricated with some oily substance, and the sheer strength of human shoulders was then applied.

The statue is a female figure of Liberty, having on her head a crown, and holding aloft in her hand a torch. The figure is one hundred and five feet high; but, reckoning the extreme height to the top of the torch, the marvellous altitude of one hundred and thirty-seven feet nine inches is reached. The statue is to be reared on a pedestal of solid granite eighty-three feet high, so that the entire work will rise to the immense height of two hundred and twenty feet nine inches! The artist is M. Bartholdi .

Having first carefully constructed a model in clay about life-size, this was repeatedly enlarged until the necessary form and size were obtained. The next step was to obtain plaster-casts from the clay, and these casts were then reproduced by clever artists in hard wood. The wooden blocks were then in their turn placed in the hands of coppersmiths, who by the hammer alone, it is stated, gave the copper sheets the exact form of the wooden moulds or models; and thus, in this peculiar and laborious manner, the outside copper 'skin' of the statue was formed and, to all outward appearance, completed. But as the copper is only one-eighth of an inch thick, an inner skin is also provided, placed about a foot behind the first, whilst the intermediate space will be filled in with sand, especially at the lower extremities, to give the whole a steadfast foundation.

The stability of the figure will not, however, be left to depend solely on these sheets of thin copper and loose sand; and therefore the interior, from top to bottom, will be strengthened by a framework of girders and supports, by which the whole will be knit together in one firm, compact, unyielding mass. As the sheets of copper and the interior framework are simply secured in the ordinary manner by rivets, when it is desired to remove this metallic mountain, all that has to be done is to unrivet the several plates, take down, and pack on board ship for New York.

It is proposed to place this gigantic 'Liberty' on Bedloe's Island, a very small islet lying about two miles south of the Battery and Castle Garden, the lowest point of the island of Manhattan on which the city of New York is built, so that travellers approaching the city by water on that side will get a fine view of the statue of 'Liberty enlightening the World.'

This mighty work of art, after many years of close and anxious labour, has recently been formally handed over by M. Jules Ferry to the minister of the United States, as a free gift from the people of France to the people of America--a token of love and admiration from the one republic to the other--and measures are being adopted to take the statue to pieces, with a view to its immediate transmission to New York, in which go-ahead city we shall doubtless soon hear of its final erection.

A GREENROOM ROMANCE.

The actor seemed to coincide in the opinion of his flattering attendant, for he rose, and surveyed himself in the glass with admiration, which he made no attempt to conceal.

'A good house, Jackson?'

'Tell the call-boy I want him, Jackson.'

Jackson withdrew; and Montmorency surrendered himself to a mental soliloquy, which assumed somewhat of this form: 'I wonder what my father wishes to see me about? The same old story, I suppose--the folly and wickedness of the step I have taken. Well, of one thing I am certain: I am much better off in my present position, than wedded to that Barbadoes girl, Miss Anstruther, in spite of her money-bags, and whom I have never seen.'

These reflections were put an end to by the entrance of the call-boy.

'If a gentleman giving the name of Colonel Stanley should call, show him in here.'

'He is outside, sir,' replied the boy.

'Show him in at once,' whereupon there entered a small wizen-faced old gentleman, with snow-white hair, and supporting himself on a stick. Montmorency advanced, shook hands with a great show of cordiality, and placed a chair, on which Colonel Stanley slowly seated himself, gazing round the small apartment with an unfeigned expression of curiosity. 'So this is a theatrical dressing-room. You are pretty snug.'

The room certainly deserved the encomium of the old colonel. Paintings in oil and water colours nearly covered the walls; fancy pipes and cigar-boxes and scent-bottles littered the tables; a case of champagne reposed in one corner, while in the other was a small pile of seltzer water.

The colonel, after indulging in a sigh, proceeded: 'I have called, Harry, before I return to Yorkshire, to make one more appeal to you to give up your present mode of life, settle down as a landed proprietor in your native county, and marry Miss Anstruther.'

It was now the turn of the young man to sigh as he replied: 'Impossible, my dear sir. I am already wedded--to the stage.'

'That may be; but unions can easily be dissolved by a divorce, especially in these days.'

'Not where the contracting parties are so attached to each other as I am to my profession. No, sir. If a man could take a wife on lease, for seven, fourteen, or twenty-one years, the case would be different. But the feeling that my lot in life was fixed--cut and dried, so to speak--the matter won't bear a thought.' The young man felt strongly inclined to indulge in a stage-walk, but the limited area of the apartment forbade such a physical relief. If the reader should consider the remarks of the actor somewhat flippant, it must be borne in mind that no one whose character did not fall under that definition would have acted as Harry Stanley had done.

The old man scowled as he resumed: 'I wonder you can respect yourself, dizened out and painted like a mummer at a pantomime.'

'And poet--you forget that, sir--poet, sir,' sharply retorted the colonel.

'I can assure you, sir, we have men of good family playing very small parts to-night. Trip took honours at Oxford, and Backbite is a Cambridge man.'

'Pray, sir,' replied the colonel, 'if that be the case, why do you all sail under false colours? Why resign the honoured name of Stanley for the Frenchified one of Montmorency?'

The young man bowed as he responded: 'Out of deference to the shallow scruples of the narrow-minded portion of Society.'

'Of which I constitute a member, eh?'

His son and heir drew himself proudly up as he replied: 'No, sir; I trust I shall never forget that I own the honoured name of Stanley.'

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