THE Central Literary Magazine. It must be borne in mind that this Magazine is neutral in Politics and Religion; its pages are open to a free expression of all shades of opinion without leaning to any. THE discerning reader will hardly need to be told that Hardy was not one of those perfect people frequently met with in books, but never in real life. Those who have heard his retort upon Downer, and have witnessed the manner of his departure from the office, will not even suppose him a man of matured character; and one who is wont to take the wisest course in an emergency. We have seen him rush away from Grayling Court, passionately declaring that he would prove his innocence or die. To say that he had any definite purpose in his mind at the time would not be true; and when he had slackened his pace a little, and had come to reflect with the required calmness upon his position, he could not but regard the whole morning's business with dissatisfaction. Annoying and irritating as Downer's conduct no doubt had been, he could not justify his own rudeness to him. Guilty, or innocent, he now saw that his cause could not possibly be served by his hasty and illadvised retreat. He was half inclined to turn back and brave the matter out at once: self-esteem, however, appeared to demand another course, so he formed the unfortunate resolution to let the day run out before attempting his own exculpation; indeed, the more he thought of it, the more difficult, if not impossible, did the attempt seem. Vexed with himself; angry with Downer and with Masters, he wandered for several hours about the streets, irresolute and wretched; until, receiving a suggestion from within, he turned into a restaurant for refreshment. He loitered long over his meal and it was growing dark as he left the place and hied him homeward. The strange restlessness upon him seemed to increase as he reached his lodgings; when, pausing for a moment, he began to retrace his steps; walking rapidly towards the city he had just left. Night was fast closing upon the metropolis when Frank might have been seen issuing from one of the many streets debouching upon Cheapside, and after a hasty glance towards St. Paul's, turning, and hurrying off in the opposite direction. By the time he had reached the Exchange the clocks were striking eight; and deeper and louder than them all, the great bell" Big Ben" in ponderous monotone, sends forth its hourly warning of "slowly, surely dying time." Crowds of idlers throng the side-paths, seeking a little pleasure after the toils of the day. Through these he elbows his way; provoking many an angry protest from those who see no reason in his haste, and less in his manner of accomplishing it. He seems moved by some power stronger than his own will as he thus aimlessly marches onward, till finding himself on London Bridge he stands, and leaning on the parapet, gazes down on the dark and heaving waters of old Thames. With careless eye he notes the moving lights among the craft upon the river, and hears, though with listless ear, the click of chains where hands are busy hauling freight upon the decks of outward bound vessels, waiting for the morning tide to drop down the river. A hundred lights are mirrored from its surface; great warehouses, tall and grim, bounding its sides; now and again a steamboat emerging from darkness, blowing under his feet, and suddenly disappearing; the beating of paddle-wheels, the cries of cabin-boys-" ease 'er," "stop 'er,"-borne upward-all these familiar scenes and sounds are more deeply impressed upon his memory than he is at the time aware. But what have we here, driving at such a rate across the Bridge and so dangerously near the kerb-stone that foot passengers instinctively draw back to let it pass? Merely a "four-wheeler," drawn by one horse. But hark! was not that a cry? the half-smothered shriek of a woman it sounds like-and there is a hand rapidly waved at the window as if to attract attention. Frank has just time to see and hear this as the cab rushes past him and to detect in the uncertain light three or four persons seated inside; one of whom he is certain is a woman, and of course has no doubt the cry proceeds from her. This appeal to his generous nature at once arouses all his energy so that after but a moment's hesitation he determines to follow and if possible learn more of the matter. |