Thomas Henry Huxley - "This is Essay #2 from Science and Hebrew Tradition"

G. A. Henty - "At the Point of the Bayonet"

Susanna Moodie - "Life in the Backwoods"

Various - "Short Stories of Various Types"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

The Crimson Blind

F >> Fred M. White >> The Crimson Blind




Despite his bullying triumph there was something nervous and anxious
about the tone of the question. It was not quite like Henson to let his
adversary see that he had scored a point. But since the affair of the
dogs Henson had not been quite his old self. It was easy to see that he
had found out a great deal, but he had not found out where Chris was yet.

"I know nothing," said Enid. "I shall answer no questions."

"Very well. But I shall find out. Accident put me on the trail first. And
I have been to see that man Walker. He never saw your sister after her
'death,' nor did the undertaker. And I might have met my death at the
fangs of that dog you put upon me. What a fool Walker was."

Enid looked up a little anxiously. Had Walker said anything about a
second opinion? Had he betrayed to Henson the fact that he had been
backed up by Hatherly Bell? Because they had taken a deal of trouble to
conceal the fact that Bell had been in the house.

"Dr. Walker should have called in another opinion," she said, mockingly.

"The man was too conceited for that, and you know it," Henson growled;
"and finely you played upon his vanity."

Enid was satisfied. Walker had evidently said nothing about Bell; and
Henson, though he had just come from Littimer, knew nothing about Chris.

"You have made a statement," she said, "and in reply I say nothing. You
have chosen to assume that my sister is still alive. Well, it is a free
country, and you are at liberty to think as you please. If we had
anything to gain by the course you suggest--"

"Anything to gain!" Henson burst out angrily.

"Everything to gain. One whom I deemed to be dead is free to follow me to
pry into my affairs, to rob me. That was part of Steel's precious scheme,
I presume. If you and your sister and Miss Gates hadn't talked so loudly
that day in the garden I might not--"

"Have listened," said Enid, coldly. "Ears like a hare and head like a
cat. But you don't know everything, and you never will. You scoundrel,
you creeping, crawling scoundrel! If I only dared to speak. If I cared
less for the honour of this unhappy family--"

"If you could only get the ring," said Henson, with a malicious
sneer. "But the ring is gone. The ruby ring lies at the bottom of the
North Sea."

Some passionate, heedless words rose to Enid's lips, but she checked
them. All she could do now was to watch and wait till darkness. Van
Sneck must be got out of the way before anything else was done. She did
not dare to use the telephone yet, though she had made up her mind to
ask Steel to come over and take Van Sneck away. Later on she could send
the message.

Van Sneck had eaten a fairly good meal, so Williams said, and had fallen
into a heavy sleep. There was nothing for it but to wait and watch.
Dinner came in due course, with Mrs. Henson, ragged and unkempt as usual,
taking no notice of Henson, who watched her furtively during the meal.
Enid escaped to her own room directly afterwards, and Henson followed his
hostess to the drawing-room.

Once there his manner changed entirely. His lips grew firm, his eyes were
like points of steel. Mrs. Henson was pacing the dusty floor, muttering
and crooning to herself. Henson touched her arm, at the same time holding
some glittering object before her eyes. It was a massive ruby ring with
four black pearls on either side.

"Look here," he whispered. "Do you recognise it? Have you seen it
before?"

A pitiful, wailing cry came from Mrs. Henson's lips. She was trembling
from head to foot with a strange agitation. She gazed at the ring as a
thirsty man in a desert might have looked on a draught of cold spring
water. She stretched out her hand, but Henson drew back.

"I thought you had not forgotten it," he smiled. "It means much to you,
honour, peace, happiness--your son restored to his proper place in the
world. Last time I was here I wanted money, a mere bagatelle to you. Now
I want L10,000."

"No, no," Mrs. Henson cried. "You will ruin me--L10,000! What do you do
with all the money? You profess to give it all to charity. But I know
better. Much you give away that more may come back from it. But that
money you get from a credulous public. And I could expose you, ah, how I
could expose you, Reginald Henson."

"Instead of which you will let me have that L10,000."

"I cannot. You will ruin me. Have you not had enough? Give me the ring."

Henson smilingly held the gem aloft. Mrs. Henson raised her arm, with the
dust rising in choking clouds around her. Then with an activity
astonishing in one of her years she sprang upon Henson and tore the ring
from his grasp. The thing was so totally unexpected from the usually
gentle lady that Henson could only gasp in astonishment.

"I have it," Mrs. Henson cried. "I have it, and I am free!"

Henson sprang towards her. With a quick, fleet step she crossed to the
window and fled out into the night. A raging madness seemed to have come
over her again; she laughed and she cried as she sped on into the bushes,
followed by Henson. In his fear and desperation the latter had quite
forgotten the dogs. He was in the midst of them, they were clustered
round himself and Mrs. Henson, before he was aware of the fact.

"Give me the ring," he said. "You can't have it yet. Some day I will
restore it to you. Be sensible. If anybody should happen to see you."
Mrs. Henson merely laughed. The dogs were gambolling around her like so
many kittens. They did not seem to heed Henson in the joy of her
presence. He came on again, he made a grab for her dress, but the rotten
fabric parted like a cobweb in his hand. A warning grunt came from one of
the dogs, but Henson gave no heed.

"Give it me," he hissed; "or I will tear it from you."




CHAPTER XLIII

HEARING THE TRUTH


David Steel stood contemplating the weird scene with almost doubting
eyes. In his wildest moments he had never imagined anything more dramatic
than this. The candle in its silver sconce that Mrs. Henson had snatched
up before her flight was perilously near her flimsy dress. Henson caught
her once more in a fierce grip. David could stand it no longer. As Henson
came by him his right arm flashed out, there was a dull thud, and Henson,
without having the least idea what had happened, fell to the ground, with
a very hazy idea of his surroundings for a moment or two.

Equally unconscious that she had a protector handy, Mrs. Henson turned
and fled for the house. A minute later and she was followed by Henson,
still puzzling his racking head to know what had happened. David would
have followed, but the need for caution flashed upon him. If he stood
there perfectly still Henson would never know who his antagonist was.
David stood there waiting. As he glanced round he saw some little object
glittering near to his feet. It was the ruby ring!

"Be you there, sir?" a rusty voice whispered close by.

"I am, Williams," David replied; "I have been waiting for some time."

Williams chuckled, making no kind of apology for his want of punctuality.

"I've been looking after our man, sir," he said. "That Dutch chap what
Miss Enid said you'd come for. And I saw all that business in the
shrubbery just now. My! if I didn't feel good when you laid out Henson on
the grass. The sound of that smack was as good as ten years' wages for
me. And he's gone off to his room with a basin of vinegar and a ream of
brown paper. Why didn't you break his neck?"

David suggested that the law took a prejudiced view of that kind of
thing, and that it would be a pity to hang anyone for such a creature as
Reginald Henson.

"Our man is all right?" he asked.

"As a trivet," said Williams. "Sleeping like a baby; he is in my own
bed over the stable. I'll show you into the harness-room, where Miss
Enid's waiting for you, sir, and then I'll go and see as Henson don't
come prowling about. Not as he's likely to, considering the clump on
the side of the head you gave him. I take it kind of Providence to let
me see that!"

Williams hobbled away, chuckling to himself and followed by David. There
was a feeble oil-lamp in the harness-room. Enid was waiting there
anxiously.

"So you have put Henson out of the way for a time," she said. "He passed
me just now using awful language, and wondering how it had all come
about. Wasn't it a strange thing that Van Sneck should come here?"

"Not very," David said. "He is evidently looking for his master,
Reginald Henson. I have not the slightest doubt that he has been here
many times before. Williams says he is asleep. Pity to wake him just
yet, don't you think?"

"Perhaps it is. But I am horribly afraid of our dear friend Reginald, all
the same."

"Our dear Reginald will not trouble us just yet. He came down as far as
London with Bell. Of course he had heard the news of Van Sneck's flight.
Was he disturbed?"

"I have never seen him in such a passion before, Mr. Steel. And not only
was he in a passion, but he was horribly afraid about something. And he
has made a discovery."

"He hasn't found out that your sister--"

"Is at Littimer Castle? That is really the most consoling part of the
business. He has been at Littimer for a day or two, and he has not the
remotest idea that Christabel Lee is our Chris."

"A feather in your sister's cap. She has quite captivated Littimer,
Bell says."

"And she played her part splendidly. Mr. Steel, it is very, very good to
know that Hatherly has cleared himself in the eyes of Lord Littimer at
last. Did Reginald suspect--"

"Nothing," Steel said. "He is utterly and hopelessly puzzled over the
whole business. And Bell has managed to convince him that he is not
suspected at all. That business over the Rembrandt was really a brilliant
bit of comedy. But what has Henson found out?"

"That Chris is not dead. He has seen Walker and the undertaker. But he
does not know yet that Dr. Bell was in the house that eventful night,
which is a blessing. As a matter of fact, Reginald has not been quite the
same man since Rollo nearly killed him that exciting evening. His nerves
seem to be greatly shaken."

"That is because the rascal feels the net closing round him," Steel said.
"It was a fine stroke on your sister's part to win over that fellow
Merritt to her side. I supplied the details per telephone, but the plot
was really Miss Chris's. How on earth should we have managed without the
telephone over this business?"

"I am at a loss to say," Enid smiled. "But tell me about that plot. I am
quite in the dark as to that side of the matter."

David proceeded to explain his own and Chris's ingenious scheme for
getting Merritt into their power. Enid followed the story with vast
enjoyment, tempered with the fact that Henson was so near.

"I should never have thought of that," she said; "but Chris was always so
clever. But tell me, what was Henson doing in the garden just now?
Williams says he was illtreating my aunt, but that seems hardly possible
even for Reginald."

"It was over a ring that Mrs. Henson had," David explained. "She was
running away with it, and Henson was trying to get it back. You see--"

"A ring!" Enid gasped. "Did you happen to see it? Oh, if it is only--.
But he would not be so silly as that. A ring is the cause of all the
trouble. _Did_ you see it?"

"I not only saw it but I have it in my possession," David replied.

Enid turned up the flaring little lamp with a shaking hand. Quite
unstrung, she held out her fingers for the ring.

"It is just possible," she said, hoarsely, "that you possess the key of
the situation. If that ring is what I hope it is we can tumble Henson
into the dust to-morrow. We can drive him out of the country, and he will
never, never trouble us again. How did you get it?"

"Mrs. Henson dropped it and I picked it up."

"Please let me see it," Enid said, pleadingly. "Let me be put out of
my misery."

David handed the ring over; Enid regarded it long and searchingly. With a
little sigh of regret she passed it back to David once more.

"You had better keep it," she said. "At any rate, it is likely to be
valuable evidence for us later on. But it is not the ring I hoped to see.
It is a clever copy, but the black pearls are not so fine, and the
engraving inside is not so worn as it used to be on the original. It is
evidently a copy that Henson has had made to tease my aunt with, to offer
her at some future date in return for the large sums of money that she
gave him. No; the original of that ring is popularly supposed to be at
the bottom of the North Sea. If such had been the case--seeing that
Henson had never handled it before the Great Tragedy came--the original
must be in existence."

"Why so?" David asked.

"Because the ring must have been copied from it," Enid said. "It is a
very faithful copy indeed, and could not have been made from mere
directions--take the engraving inside, for instance. The engraving forms
the cipher of the house of Littimer, If Henson has the real ring, if we
can find it, the tragedy goes out of our lives for ever."

"I should like to hear the story," said Steel.

Enid paused and lowered the lamp as a step was heard outside. But it was
only Williams.

"Mr. Henson is in his bedroom still," he said. "I've just taken him the
cigars. He's got a lump on his head as big as a billiard-ball. Thinks he
hit it against a branch. And my lady have locked herself in her room and
refused to see anybody."

"Go and look at our patient," Enid commanded.

Williams disappeared, to return presently with the information that Van
Sneck was still fast asleep and lying very peacefully.

"Looks like waiting till morning, it do," he said. "And now I'll go back
and keep my eye on that 'ere distinguished philanthropist."

Williams disappeared, and Enid turned up the lamp again. Her face was
pale and resolute. She motioned David towards a chair.

"I'll tell you the story," she said. "I am going to confide in you the
saddest and strangest tale that ever appealed to an imaginative
novelist."




CHAPTER XLIV

ENID SPEAKS


"I am going to tell you the story of the great sorrow that has darkened
all our lives, but I shall have to go a long way back to do it," Enid
said. "I go back to the troublous day of Charles, as far back as the
disastrous fight at Naseby. Of course I am speaking more from a Royalist
point of view, for the Littimers were always followers of the Court.

"Mind you, there is doubtless a deal that is legendary about what I am
going to tell you. But the ring given to my ancestor Rupert Littimer by
Prince Rupert himself is an actuality.

"Naseby was over, and, so the legend goes, Prince Rupert found himself
desperately situated and in dire peril of capture by Cromwell's
troops, under one Colonel Carfax, a near neighbour of Rupert Littimer;
indeed, the Carfax estates still run parallel with the property round
Littimer Castle.

"Now, Carfax was hated by all those who were attached to the fortunes of
the King. Seeing that he was of aristocratic birth, it was held that he
had violated his caste and creed by taking sides with the Roundheads.
History has told us that he was right, and that the Cavaliers,
picturesque as they were, were fighting a dubious cause. But I need not
go into that. Carfax was a hard, stern man who spared nobody, and many
were the stories told of his cruelty.

"He and Rupert Littimer were especially at daggers drawn. I believe that
both of them had been in love with the same woman or something of that
kind. And the fact that she did not marry either made little difference
to the bitterness between them.

"Well, Carfax was pressing close on Rupert, so close, indeed, that unless
some strategy were adopted the brilliant cavalry leader was in dire
peril. It was there that my ancestor, Rupert Littimer, came forward with
his scheme. He offered to disguise himself and go into the camp of Carfax
and take him prisoner. The idea was to steal into the tent of Carfax and,
by threatening him with his life, compel him to issue certain orders, the
result of which would be that Prince Rupert could get away.

"'You will never come back again, friend,' the Prince said.

"Rupert Littimer said he was prepared to run all risk of that. 'And if I
do die you shall tell my wife, sir,' he said. 'And when the child is
born, tell him that his father died as he should have done for his King
and for his country.'"

"'Oh, there is a child coming?' Rupert asked.

"Littimer replied that for aught he knew he was a father already. And
then he went his way into the camp of the foe with his curls cut short
and in the guise of a countryman who comes with valuable information.
And, what is more, he schemed his way into Carfax's tent, and at the
point of a dagger compelled him to write a certain order which my
ancestor's servant, who accompanied him, saw carried into effect, and so
the passage for Prince Rupert was made free."

"The ruse would have succeeded all round but for some little accident
that I need not go into now. Rupert Littimer was laid by the heels, his
disguise was torn off, and he stood face to face with his hereditary foe.
He was told that he had but an hour to live."

"'If you have any favour to ask, say it,' Carfax said.

"'I have no favour to ask, properly so-called,' Littimer replied; 'but I
am loth to die without knowing whether or not I have left anybody to
succeed me--anybody who will avenge the crime upon you and yours in the
years to come. Let me go as far as Henson Grange, and I pledge you my
word I will return in the morning!'

"But Carfax laughed the suggestion to scorn. The Court party were all
liars and perjurers, and their word was not to be taken.

"'It is as I say,' Rupert Littimer repeated. 'My wife lies ill at Henson
Grange and in sore trouble about me. And I should like to see my child
before I die,'

"'Then you shall have the chance,' Carfax sneered. 'I will keep you a
close prisoner here for two days, and if at the end of that time nothing
happens, you die. If, on the other hand, a child is born to you, then you
shall go from here a free man.'

"And so the compact was made. Unfortunately or fortunately, as the case
may be, the story got abroad, and some indiscreet person carried the news
to Dame Littimer. Ill as she was, she insisted upon getting up and going
over to Carfax's camp at once. She had barely reached there before--well,
long ere Rupert Littimer's probation was over, he was the father of a
noble boy. They say that the Roundheads made a cradle for the child out
of a leather breastplate, and carried it in triumph round the camp. And
they held the furious Carfax to his word, and the story spread and spread
until it came to the ears of Prince Rupert.

"Then he went to see Dame Littimer, and from his own hand he drew what
is known in our family as Prince Rupert's ring. He placed it on Dame
Littimer's hand, there to remain for a year and a day, and when the
year was up it was to be put aside for the bride of the heir of the
house for ever, to be worn by her till a year and a day had elapsed
after her first child was born. And that has been done for all time, my
aunt, Lady Littimer, being the last to wear it. After Frank was born it
was put carefully away for his bride. But the great tragedy came, and
until lately we fancied that the ring was lost to us for ever. There
is, in a few words, the story of Prince Rupert's ring. So far it is
quite common property"

Enid ceased to speak for a time. But it was evident that she had
more to say.

"An interesting story," David said. "And a pretty one to put into a book,
especially as it is quite true. But you have lost the ring, you say?"

"I fancied so till to-night," Enid replied. "Indeed, I hardly knew what
to think. Sometimes I imagined that Reginald Henson had it, at other
times I imagined that it was utterly gone. But the mere fact that Henson
possesses a copy practically convinces me that he has the original. As I
said before, a true copy could not have been made from mere instructions.
And if I could only get the original our troubles are all over."

"But I don't see how the ring has anything to do with--"

"With the family dishonour. No, I am coming to that. We arrive at the
time, seven years ago, when my aunt and Lord Littimer and Frank were all
living happily at Littimer Castle. I told you just now that the Carfax
estates adjoin the Littimer property. The family is still extant and
powerful, but the feud between the two houses has never ceased. Of
course, people don't carry on a vendetta these peaceful days, but the
families have not visited for centuries.

"There was a daughter Claire, whom Frank Littimer got to know by some
means or other. But for the silly family feud nobody would have noticed
or cared, and there would have been an end to the matter, because Frank
has always loved my sister Chris, and we all knew that he would marry her
some of these days.

"Lord Littimer was furiously angry when he heard that Frank and Claire
had got on speaking terms. He imperiously forbade any further
intercourse, and General Carfax did the same. The consequence was that
these two foolish young people elected to fancy themselves greatly
aggrieved, and so a kind of Romeo and Juliet, Montague and Capulet,
business sprang up. There were secret meetings, meetings entirely
innocent, I believe, and a correspondence which became romantic and
passionate on Claire Carfax's side. The girl had fallen passionately in
love with Frank, whilst he regarded the thing as a mere pastime. He did
not know then, indeed nobody seemed to know till afterwards, that there
was insanity in the poor girl's family, though Hatherly Bell's friend,
Dr. Heritage, who then had a practice near Littimer, warned us as well as
he could. Nobody dreamt how far the thing had gone.

"Then those letters of Claire's fell into Lord Littimer's hands. He found
them and locked them up in his safe. Frank, furious at being treated like
a boy, swore to break open the safe and get his letters back. He did so.
And in the same safe, and in the same drawer, was Prince Rupert's ring.
When Lord Littimer missed the letters he missed the ring also and a large
sum of money in notes that he had just received from his tenants. Frank
had stolen the ring and the money, or so it seemed. I shall not soon
forget that day.

"After taking the letters Frank had gone straight to Moreton Wells, and
it looked for a little time as if he had fled. Within an hour of the
discovery of his loss Lord Littimer met Claire Carfax on the cliffs. She
was wearing Prince Rupert's ring. Frank had sent it to her, she said.
Anybody but a man in a furious passion would have seen that the girl was
not responsible for her actions. Littimer told her the true circumstances
of the case. She laughed at him in a queer, vacant way and fled through
the woods. She went down to the beach, where she took a boat and rowed
herself out into the bay. A mile or more from the shore she jumped into
the water, and from that day to this nothing further has been seen of
poor Claire Carfax."

"Or the ring, either?" David asked.

"Or the ring either. The same night Lady Littimer started after her boy.
Littimer was going to have Frank prosecuted. Lady Littimer fled to
Longdean Grange, where Frank joined her. Then my uncle turned up, and
there was a scene. It is said that Lord Littimer struck his wife, but
Frank says that she fell against his gesticulating fist. Anyway, it was
the same as a blow, and Lady Littimer dropped on the floor, dragging a
table down with her, flowers and china and all. You have seen that table
in Longdean Granges Since then it has never been touched, the place has
never been swept or dusted or garnished. You have seen my aunt, and you
know what the shock has done for her--the shock and the steady
persecutions of Reginald Henson."

"Who seems to be at the bottom of the whole trouble," said David. "But do
you think that was the real ring on the poor girl's finger?"

"I don't. I fancy Henson had a copy made for emergencies. It was he who
sent the copy to Claire, and it was the copy that Littimer saw on her
hand. You see, directly Frank broke open that safe, Henson, who was at
the castle at the time, saw his opportunity--he could easily scheme some
way of making use of it. If that plot against Frank had failed he would
have invented another. And the unexpected suicide of Claire Carfax played
into his hands. Henson has that ring somewhere, and it will be our task
to find it."

"And when we have done so?"

"Give it to Lord Littimer and tell him where we found it. And then we
shall be rid of one of the most pestilential rascals the world has ever
seen. When you get back to Brighton I want you to tell this story to
Hatherly Bell."

"I will," David replied. "What a weird, fascinating story it is! And the
sooner I am back the better I shall be pleased. I wonder if our man is
awake yet. If you will excuse me, I will go up and see. Ah!"

There was the sound of somebody moving overhead.




CHAPTER XLV

ON THE TRAIL


At the same moment Williams came softly in. There was a grin of
satisfaction on his face.

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