was William the Conqueror. Thou
biddest me move on from the Past, and be consoled, yet thou wouldst make
me as inapt to progress as the mule in Slawkenbergius's tale, with thy
cursed interlocutions, 'Stumbling, by Saint Nicholas, every step.
Why, at this rate, we shall be all night in getting into'--HAPPINESS!
Listen," continued Harley, setting off, full pelt, into one of his wild
whimsical humours. "One of the sons of the prophets in Israel felling
wood near the river Jordan, his hatchet forsook the helve, and fell to
the bottom of the river; so he prayed to have it again (it was but a
small request, mark you); and having a strong faith, he did not throw
the hatchet after the helve, but the helve after the hatchet. Presently
two great miracles were seen. Up springs the hatchet from the bottom of
the water, and fixes itself to its old acquaintance, the helve. Now, had
he wished to coach it up to heaven in a fiery chariot like Elias, be as
rich as Job, strong as Samson, and beautiful as Absalom, would he have
obtained the wish, do you think? In truth, my friend, I question it very
much."

"I can't comprehend what you mean. Sad stuff you are talking."

"I cannot help that; 'Rabelais is to be blamed for it. I am quoting him,
and it is to be found in his Prologue to the Chapters on the 'Moderation
of Wishes.' And a propos of 'moderate wishes in point of hatchet,' I
want you to understand that I ask but little from Heaven. I fling but
the helve after the hatchet that has sunk into the silent stream. I want
the other half of the weapon that is buried fathom deep, and for want
of which the thick woods darken round me by the Sacred River, and I can
catch not a glimpse of the stars."

"In plain English," said Audley Egerton, "you want--" he stopped short,
puzzled.

"I want my purpose and my will, and my old character, and the nature
God gave me. I want the half of my soul which has fallen from me. I want
such love as may replace to me the vanished affections. Reason not,--I
throw the helve after the hatchet."

CHAPTER XXI.

Randal Leslie, on leaving Audley, repaired to Frank's lodgings, and
after being closeted with the young Guardsman an hour or so, took his
way to Limmer's hotel, and asked for Mr. Hazeldean. He was shown into
the coffee-room, while the waiter went up-stairs with his card, to see
if the squire was within, and disengaged. The "Times" newspaper lay
sprawling on one of the tables, and Randal, leaning