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Scaling Machine
Learning with
Spark
Distributed ML with MLlib,
TensorFlow, and PyTorch

Adi Polak
 Scaling Machine Learning with Spark
Learn how to build end-to-end scalable machine learning
solutions with Apache Spark. With this practical guide, author “If there is one book the
Adi Polak introduces data and ML practitioners to creative
Spark community has
solutions that supersede today’s traditional methods. You’ll
learn a more holistic approach that takes you beyond specific been craving for the last
requirements and organizational goals—allowing data and ML decade, it’s this.”
practitioners to collaborate and understand each other better. —Andy Petrella
Founder at Kensu and author of
Scaling Machine Learning with Spark examines several Fundamentals of Data Observability
technologies for building end-to-end distributed ML
workflows based on the Apache Spark ecosystem with
Spark MLlib, MLFlow, TensorFlow, and PyTorch. If you’re Adi Polak is an open source
a data scientist who works with machine learning, this technologist who believes in
communities and education, and
book shows you when and why to use each technology.
their ability to positively impact the
You will: world around us. She is passionate
about building a better world through
• Explore machine learning, including distributed open collaboration and technological
computing concepts and terminology innovation. As a seasoned engineer
• Manage the ML lifecycle with MLflow and vice president of developer
experience at Treeverse, Adi shapes
• Ingest data and perform basic preprocessing with Spark the future of data and ML technologies
• Explore feature engineering, and use Spark for hands-on builders. She serves on
multiple program committees and acts
to extract features
as an advisor for conferences like Data
• Train a model with MLlib and build a pipeline to reproduce it & AI Summit by Databricks, Current by
Confluent, and Scale by the Bay, among
• Build a data system to combine the power of Spark others. Adi previously served as a
with deep learning senior manager for Azure at Microsoft,
• Get a step-by-step example of working with where she helped build advanced
distributed TensorFlow analytics systems and modern data
architectures. Adi gained experience
• Use PyTorch to scale machine learning and in machine learning by conducting
its internal architecture research for IBM, Deutsche Telekom,
and other Fortune 500 companies.

MACHINE LEARNING Twitter: @oreillymedia

linkedin.com/company/oreilly-media
US $79.99 CAN $99.99
youtube.com/oreillymedia
ISBN: 978-1-098-10682-9
57999

9 781098 106829
 Praise for Scaling Machine Learning with Spark

If there is one book the Spark community has been craving for the last decade, it’s this.
Writing about the combination of Spark and AI requires broad knowledge, a deep
technical skillset, and the ability to break down complex concepts so they’re easy to
understand. Adi delivers all of this and more while covering big data, AI, and
everything in between.
—Andy Petrella, founder at Kensu and author of
Fundamentals of Data Observability (O’Reilly)

Scaling Machine Learning with Spark is a wealth of knowledge for data and ML
practitioners, providing a holistic and creative approach to building end-to-end scalable
machine learning solutions. The author’s expertise and knowledge, combined with a focus
on collaboration and understanding, makes this book a must-read for anyone
in the industry.
—Noah Gift, Duke executive in residence

Adi’s book is without any doubt a good reference and resource to have beside you when
working with Spark and distributed ML. You will learn best practices she has to share
along with her experience working in the industry for many years. Worth the investment
and time reading it.
—Laura Uzcategui, machine learning engineer at TalentBait
 This book is an amazing synthesis of knowledge and experience. I consider it essential
reading for both novice and veteran machine learning engineers. Readers will deepen
their understanding of general principles for machine learning in distributed systems
while simultaneously engaging with the technical details required to integrate and scale
the most widely used tools of the trade including Spark, PyTorch, Tensorflow.
—Matthew Housley, CTO and coauthor of Fundamentals of
Data Engineering (O’Reilly)

Adi’s done a wonderful job at creating a very readable, practical, and insanely detailed
deep dive into machine learning with Spark.
—Joe Reis, coauthor of Fundamentals of Data Engineering
(O’Reilly) and “recovering data scientist”
 Scaling Machine Learning
with Spark
Distributed ML with MLlib,
TensorFlow, and PyTorch

Adi Polak

Beijing Boston Farnham Sebastopol Tokyo

Scaling Machine Learning with Spark
by Adi Polak
Copyright © 2023 Adi Polak. All rights reserved.
Printed in the United States of America.
Published by O’Reilly Media, Inc., 1005 Gravenstein Highway North, Sebastopol, CA 95472.
O’Reilly books may be purchased for educational, business, or sales promotional use. Online editions are
also available for most titles (https://oreilly.com). For more information, contact our corporate/institu‐
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Development Editor: Jill Leonard Interior Designer: David Futato
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See http://oreilly.com/catalog/errata.csp?isbn=9781098106829 for release details.

The O’Reilly logo is a registered trademark of O’Reilly Media, Inc. Scaling Machine Learning with Spark,
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The views expressed in this work are those of the author and do not represent the publisher’s views. While
the publisher and the author have used good faith efforts to ensure that the information and instructions
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omissions, including without limitation responsibility for damages resulting from the use of or reliance
on this work. Use of the information and instructions contained in this work is at your own risk. If any
code samples or other technology this work contains or describes is subject to open source licenses or the
intellectual property rights of others, it is your responsibility to ensure that your use thereof complies
with such licenses and/or rights.

978-1-098-10682-9
[LSI]
 Table of Contents

Preface. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xi

1. Distributed Machine Learning Terminology and Concepts. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

The Stages of the Machine Learning Workflow 4
Tools and Technologies in the Machine Learning Pipeline 6
Distributed Computing Models 8
General-Purpose Models 8
Dedicated Distributed Computing Models 10
Introduction to Distributed Systems Architecture 11
Centralized Versus Decentralized Systems 11
Interaction Models 12
Communication in a Distributed Setting 13
Introduction to Ensemble Methods 14
High Versus Low Bias 15
Types of Ensemble Methods 15
Distributed Training Topologies 16
The Challenges of Distributed Machine Learning Systems 18
Performance 18
Resource Management 21
Fault Tolerance 22
Privacy 23
Portability 24
Setting Up Your Local Environment 24
Chapters 2–6 Tutorials Environment 25
Chapters 7–10 Tutorials Environment 27
Summary 28

v
2. Introduction to Spark and PySpark. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29
Apache Spark Architecture 30
Intro to PySpark 32
Apache Spark Basics 33
Software Architecture 33
PySpark and Functional Programming 39
Executing PySpark Code 40
pandas DataFrames Versus Spark DataFrames 41
Scikit-Learn Versus MLlib 42
Summary 43

3. Managing the Machine Learning Experiment Lifecycle with MLflow. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45

Machine Learning Lifecycle Management Requirements 46
What Is MLflow? 47
Software Components of the MLflow Platform 48
Users of the MLflow Platform 49
MLflow Components 50
MLflow Tracking 50
MLflow Projects 53
MLflow Models 54
MLflow Model Registry 55
Using MLflow at Scale 57
Summary 60

4. Data Ingestion, Preprocessing, and Descriptive Statistics. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61

Data Ingestion with Spark 62
Working with Images 63
Working with Tabular Data 65
Preprocessing Data 66
Preprocessing Versus Processing 66
Why Preprocess the Data? 67
Data Structures 68
MLlib Data Types 68
Preprocessing with MLlib Transformers 70
Preprocessing Image Data 77
Save the Data and Avoid the Small Files Problem 80
Descriptive Statistics: Getting a Feel for the Data 81
Calculating Statistics 82
Descriptive Statistics with Spark Summarizer 83
Data Skewness 85
Correlation 86
Summary 90

vi | Table of Contents
5. Feature Engineering. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91
Features and Their Impact on Models 93
MLlib Featurization Tools 96
Extractors 96
Selectors 97
Example: Word2Vec 98
The Image Featurization Process 99
Understanding Image Manipulation 101
Extracting Features with Spark APIs 103
The Text Featurization Process 109
Bag-of-Words 110
TF-IDF 110
N-Gram 111
Additional Techniques 112
Enriching the Dataset 112
Summary 113

6. Training Models with Spark MLlib. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115

Algorithms 116
Supervised Machine Learning 117
Classification 117
Regression 122
Unsupervised Machine Learning 127
Frequent Pattern Mining 127
Clustering 127
Evaluating 131
Supervised Evaluators 131
Unsupervised Evaluators 134
Hyperparameters and Tuning Experiments 135
Building a Parameter Grid 135
Splitting the Data into Training and Test Sets 135
Cross-Validation: A Better Way to Test Your Models 137
Machine Learning Pipelines 138
Constructing a Pipeline 140
How Does Splitting Work with the Pipeline API? 141
Persistence 141
Summary 142

7. Bridging Spark and Deep Learning Frameworks. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 143

The Two Clusters Approach 147
Implementing a Dedicated Data Access Layer 148
Features of a DAL 148

Table of Contents | vii

 Selecting a DAL 150
What Is Petastorm? 151
SparkDatasetConverter 152
Petastorm as a Parquet Store 156
Project Hydrogen 158
Barrier Execution Mode 158
Accelerator-Aware Scheduling 160
A Brief Introduction to the Horovod Estimator API 161
Summary 162

8. TensorFlow Distributed Machine Learning Approach. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163

A Quick Overview of TensorFlow 164
What Is a Neural Network? 166
TensorFlow Cluster Process Roles and Responsibilities 168
Loading Parquet Data into a TensorFlow Dataset 169
An Inside Look at TensorFlow’s Distributed Machine Learning Strategies 171
ParameterServerStrategy 173
CentralStorageStrategy: One Machine, Multiple Processors 175
MirroredStrategy: One Machine, Multiple Processors, Local Copy 175
MultiWorkerMirroredStrategy: Multiple Machines, Synchronous 177
TPUStrategy 181
What Things Change When You Switch Strategies? 181
Training APIs 182
Keras API 182
Custom Training Loop 186
Estimator API 188
Putting It All Together 189
Troubleshooting 191
Summary 192

9. PyTorch Distributed Machine Learning Approach. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 193

A Quick Overview of PyTorch Basics 194
Computation Graph 194
PyTorch Mechanics and Concepts 196
PyTorch Distributed Strategies for Training Models 200
Introduction to PyTorch’s Distributed Approach 201
Distributed Data-Parallel Training 202
RPC-Based Distributed Training 203
Communication Topologies in PyTorch (c10d) 212
What Can We Do with PyTorch’s Low-Level APIs? 220
Loading Data with PyTorch and Petastorm 221

viii | Table of Contents

 Troubleshooting Guidance for Working with Petastorm and Distributed
PyTorch 224
The Enigma of Mismatched Data Types 224
The Mystery of Straggling Workers 226
How Does PyTorch Differ from TensorFlow? 227
Summary 228

10. Deployment Patterns for Machine Learning Models. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 229

Deployment Patterns 230
Pattern 1: Batch Prediction 230
Pattern 2: Model-in-Service 231
Pattern 3: Model-as-a-Service 232
Determining Which Pattern to Use 233
Production Software Requirements 234
Monitoring Machine Learning Models in Production 238
Data Drift 239
Model Drift, Concept Drift 242
Distributional Domain Shift (the Long Tail) 242
What Metrics Should I Monitor in Production? 243
How Do I Measure Changes Using My Monitoring System? 244
What It Looks Like in Production 245
The Production Feedback Loop 246
Deploying with MLlib 247
Production Machine Learning Pipelines with Structured Streaming 248
Deploying with MLflow 249
Defining an MLflow Wrapper 250
Deploying the Model as a Microservice 253
Loading the Model as a Spark UDF 254
How to Develop Your System Iteratively 254
Summary 256

Index. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 257

Table of Contents | ix
 Preface

Welcome to Scaling Machine Learning with Spark: Distributed ML with MLlib, Tensor‐
Flow, and PyTorch. This book aims to guide you in your journey as you learn more
about machine learning (ML) systems. Apache Spark is currently the most popular
framework for large-scale data processing. It has numerous APIs implemented in
Python, Java, and Scala and is used by many powerhouse companies, including Net‐
flix, Microsoft, and Apple. PyTorch and TensorFlow are among the most popular
frameworks for machine learning. Combining these tools, which are already in use in
many organizations today, allows you to take full advantage of their strengths.
Before we get started, though, perhaps you are wondering why I decided to write this
book. Good question. There are two reasons. The first is to support the machine
learning ecosystem and community by sharing the knowledge, experience, and exper‐
tise I have accumulated over the last decade working as a machine learning algorithm
researcher, designing and implementing algorithms to run on large-scale data. I have
spent most of my career working as a data infrastructure engineer, building infra‐
structure for large-scale analytics with all sorts of formatting, types, schemas, etc., and
integrating knowledge collected from customers, community members, and collea‐
gues who have shared their experience while brainstorming and developing solutions.
Our industry can use such knowledge to propel itself forward at a faster rate, by lev‐
eraging the expertise of others. While not all of this book’s content will be applicable
to everyone, much of it will open up new approaches for a wide array of practitioners.
This brings me to my second reason for writing this book: I want to provide a holistic
approach to building end-to-end scalable machine learning solutions that extends
beyond the traditional approach. Today, many solutions are customized to the specific
requirements of the organization and specific business goals. This will most likely con‐
tinue to be the industry norm for many years to come. In this book, I aim to challenge
the status quo and inspire more creative solutions while explaining the pros and cons
of multiple approaches and tools, enabling you to leverage whichever tools are used in
your organization and get the best of all worlds. My overall goal is to make it simpler

xi
for data and machine learning practitioners to collaborate and understand each other
better.

Who Should Read This Book?

This book is designed for machine learning practitioners with previous industry
experience who want to learn about Apache Spark’s MLlib and increase their under‐
standing of the overall system and flow. It will be particularly relevant to data scien‐
tists and machine learning engineers, but MLOps engineers, software engineers, and
anyone interested in learning about or building distributed machine learning models
and building pipelines with MLlib, distributed PyTorch, and TensorFlow will also
find value. Technologists who understand high-level concepts of working with
machine learning and want to dip their feet into the technical side as well should also
find the book interesting and accessible.

Do You Need Distributed Machine Learning?

As with every good thing, it depends. If you have small datasets that fit into your
machine’s memory, the answer is no. If at some point you will need to scale out your
code and make sure you can train a model on a larger dataset that does not fit into a
single machine’s memory, then yes.
It is often better to use the same tools across the software development lifecycle, from
the local development environment to staging and production. Take into considera‐
tion, though, that this also introduces other complexities involved in managing a dis‐
tributed system, which typically will be handled by a different team in your
organization. It’s a good idea to have a common language to collaborate with your
colleagues.
Also, one of the greatest challenges people who create machine learning models face
today is moving them from local development all the way to production. Many of us
sin with spaghetti code that should be reproducible but often is not and is hard to
maintain and collaborate on. I will touch upon that topic as part of the discussion of
managing the lifecycle of experiments.

Navigating This Book

This book is designed to build from foundational information in the first few chap‐
ters, covering the machine learning workflow using Apache Spark and PySpark and
managing the machine learning experiment lifecycle with MLflow, to bridging into a
dedicated machine learning platform in Chapters 7, 8, and 9. The book concludes
with a look at deployment patterns, inference, and monitoring of models in produc‐
tion. Here’s a breakdown of what you will find in each chapter:

xii | Preface
Chapter 1, “Distributed Machine Learning Terminology and Concepts”
This chapter provides a high-level introduction to machine learning and covers
terminology and concepts related to distributed computing and network topolo‐
gies. I will walk you through various concepts and terms, so you have a strong
foundation for the next chapters.
Chapter 2, “Introduction to Spark and PySpark”
The goal of this chapter is to bring you up to speed on Spark and its Python
library, PySpark. We’ll discuss terminology, software abstractions, and more.
Chapter 3, “Managing the Machine Learning Experiment Lifecycle with MLflow”
This chapter introduces MLflow, a platform that facilitates managing the
machine learning lifecycle. We’ll discuss what a machine learning experiment is
and why managing its lifecycle is important, and we’ll examine the various com‐
ponents of MLflow that make this possible.
Chapter 4, “Data Ingestion, Preprocessing, and Descriptive Statistics”
Next, we will dive into working with data. In this chapter, I will discuss how to
use Spark to ingest your data, perform basic preprocessing (using image files as
an example), and get a feel for the data. I’ll also cover how to avoid the so-called
small file problem with image files by leveraging the PySpark API.
Chapter 5, “Feature Engineering”
Once you’ve performed the steps in the previous chapter, you’re ready to engi‐
neer the features you will use to train your machine learning model. This chapter
explains in detail what feature engineering is, covering various types, and show‐
cases how to leverage Spark’s functionality for extracting features. We’ll also look
at how and when to use applyInPandas and pandas_udf to optimize perfor‐
mance.
Chapter 6, “Training Models with Spark MLlib”
This chapter walks you through working with MLlib to train a model, evaluate
and build a pipeline to reproduce the model, and finally persist it to disk.
Chapter 7, “Bridging Spark and Deep Learning Frameworks”
This chapter breaks down how to build a data system to combine the power of
Spark with deep learning frameworks. It discusses bridging Spark and deep
learning clusters and provides an introduction to Petastorm, Horovod, and the
Spark initiative Project Hydrogen.
Chapter 8, “TensorFlow Distributed Machine Learning Approach”
Here, I’ll lead you through a step-by-step example of working with distributed
TensorFlow—specifically tf.keras—while leveraging the preprocessing you’ve
done with Spark. You will also learn about the various TensorFlow patterns for
scaling machine learning and the component architectures that support it.

Preface | xiii
Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
started up. Removing the thin piece of wood thus displaced, the
worthy gentleman exhibited to the eyes of the bystanders some
fifteen or twenty bundles of papers, neatly tied up and ticketed.

"Now Sir," he said, "you have got my secret, be so good as to

accept the draft and sign the receipt." He turned towards Chandos
as he spoke; but that gentleman had suddenly seated himself at the
other side of the table, and was leaning his head upon his hand, lost
in thought. The words of Mr. Bond roused him, however, and he
replied, "Not till I am sure, Sir, that all the shares are there. Give
them to Mr. Faber, he will count them, and I will compare the
number with the printed list which I have in my pocket-book."

This was accordingly done, much to Mr. Bond's mortification; for

there is much reason to believe that it was his intention to lay claim
to some part of the spoil, in order to drive a second bargain at an
after period. But Chandos's precaution, in having cut out of a
newspaper a full description of the shares purloined, frustrated this
last attempt, and all were restored. There still remained in the
drawer three bundles, similar to those which were given up,
belonging probably to some other unfortunate clients of the worthy
Scriptolemus Bond; but with these of course Chandos had no power
to meddle, and he accordingly signed the papers which had been
drawn up.

"Now," cried Mr. Bond, snapping his fingers as soon as he had

received them, "I am a free man. This paper is as good as a
passport; and to-morrow morning I shall be safe in France."

"I should think, Mr. Bond," said Chandos, with a somewhat

contemptuous smile, "that there are things in that drawer which will
yet take the wind out of your sail."

"A very pretty figure, but not applicable," replied Mr. Bond. "All
the other gentlemen have trusted to Mr. Tracy's catching me, and so
his passport is, as the French say, valable for the present."
 "I shall take care, at all events," said Chandos, "to make this
matter generally known when I reach London."

"Now that is not fair, that is not fair," said Mr. Bond. "But I will be
beforehand with you; and, as I think our business is concluded, I will
go and pack up my trunk. Good morning, Mr. Winslow; good
morning, gentlemen all."

Chandos did not deign to make any reply; but, taking the papers
from Faber, walked out of the house.

The little boy, Tim, was found in the garden, near the gate, which
he had burst open; for the proximity of Mr. Bond's strapping
maidservant did not seem pleasant to him.

"Have you got it? have you got it?" cried the boy. And when
Chandos, patting him on the head, answered in the affirmative, he
clapped his little hands with joy, exclaiming, "I will run and tell my
mother; she will be so glad!"

"I will go with you, Tim," said Chandos; "for she must take you
home to Northferry. All my plans are altered by this morning's work,
Lockwood; and I must speed up to London without delay. I will be
down, however, to-morrow or the day after, for a new light has
broken upon me in an instant, which I think may lead to great
results. I wish to Heaven I could see the memorandum which poor
Roberts found."

"I can show it you, Sir," said Faber; "for by his direction I took a
copy of it, and have got it in my pocket-book."

It was produced in a moment, and, still standing in the open

space before the cottage, Chandos read it attentively.

"Were these initials at the end copied accurately?" he said,

turning to Faber, and pointing to some capital letters written under
his father's name.
 "Yes, Mr. Winslow," answered Faber; "as far as I could make them
out, they stood just so, in two lines. No. 2, I.S. B.E. No. 3, P.D.".

"Then there is still a chance," said Chandos. "But come, I will

away to London, and take advice upon these points also."

His companions could not at all make out what he meant; but the
new light which he said he had got, greatly accelerated all Chandos's
movements. With a quick step he led the way to the copse where he
had left the gipsey woman; and having given little Tim into her
charge, he explained to her all that had occurred; but in terms so
brief that none but one of her rapid intelligence could have
comprehended what he meant. Then promising to see her again
soon, he hurried away towards the high-road to London,
accompanied as before by Faber and Lockwood. As they approached
the little inn where Chandos had stopped on the preceding day, but
before they could see the road, the sound of rolling wheels was
heard; and with an impatient exclamation he said, "There is the
coach gone!"

But he was mistaken, for it still wanted a quarter of an hour of

the time at which the stage appeared. Faber would fain have gone
with him to London; but Chandos begged him to go over to
Northferry, and wait for him, saying, "Sir William will not come there,
you may be very sure."

In a few minutes after, the coach rolled up, the portmanteau was
put in the boot, Chandos sprang upon the top, and after a short
delay, away the vehicle rolled towards the great city.

"He's in a vast hurry," said Lockwood; "what can have struck

him?"

"I don't know, I am sure," replied Faber; and they turned away.
 CHAPTER XLIV.

It was about half-past four in the afternoon, when a common

street-cabriolet drove up to a house in Berkeley Square, in the
windows of which were exhibited large bills, stating that the lease
and furniture would be sold by auction, on a certain day, then not far
distant. Chandos Winslow sprang out of the vehicle, and knocked at
the door, which was opened almost immediately by a coarse-looking
woman, with her arms bare, and a wet cloth in her hand. In answer
to the young gentleman's inquiry for Mr. Tracy, the charwoman
replied, that he was not there; adding that he had left the house the
day before with his family, but that she did not know where he was
gone. The next drive of the cabriolet was to Green Street; but there
Chandos paid the driver before he got out. He then knocked at
General Tracy's door, and the face of his old servant, who soon
appeared, showed him at once, that no favourable change had taken
place in the circumstances of the family.

"My master and Mr. Tracy are both out, Sir," he said, even before
he was asked; "but Miss Rose is in the drawing-room."

"Are they all well?" asked Chandos.

"Pretty well; but very sad," replied the man. "Miss Emily, indeed,
is not very well; and has not been out of her room to-day."

"I hope I bring them all good news," replied Chandos, willing to
lighten the grief even of an attached dependent. "I will, therefore,
make bold, to go up at once, my good friend, without being
announced:" and walking rapidly up the stairs, he opened the
drawing-room door.
 Rose was seated at a table, writing; for she had not heard the
sound of a footfall on the well-carpeted stairs: but, the moment
Chandos entered the room, she looked up; and though there were
still tears in her eyes, a low exclamation of pleasure broke from her
lips, when she saw him.

"Oh, Chandos!" she said, "I was writing to you, by my uncle's

permission; for we thought you had left town yesterday--indeed, the
people at the hotel said so."

"I did, dearest Rose," he answered; "but I have come back to-day
on business of importance."

"I am exceedingly glad of it," replied Rose, as Chandos seated

himself beside her; "not alone because I am glad to see you; but
because you can answer in person the questions which I was going
to put;--and yet I do not know how I can put them, now you are
here."

"What!--between you and me, dear Rose?" said Chandos. "Can

you have any hesitation in asking Chandos Winslow anything? Tell
me frankly, my beloved what it is you wish to know; and I will
answer at once."

"Why, the fact is this," said Rose, looking down at the letter she
had been writing, till the rich beautiful hair fell over her fair face,
"the creditors have, this morning, returned an unfavourable answer.
They will not consent to my uncle's proposal. They will not permit
the reservation of ten thousand pounds from the sale of his estate
for Emily, and the same for myself; though they do not object to the
sum appropriated to purchase an annuity for my uncle and papa.
Emily at once begged that she might not be considered for a
moment; and so did I: but my uncle said, that, in my case, he was
not a free agent; for that he had promised that sum of ten thousand
pounds to you: and that he could not even propose to withdraw
from his word. I took upon me, Chandos, to answer for you; but he
said that the proposal must come from yourself, if at all, when you
knew the whole circumstances; and I had even a difficulty in gaining
permission to write to you, though everything must be decided by
half-past twelve the day after to-morrow. Was I wrong, Chandos, in
what I said on your behalf?"

"No, dearest Rose, you were not wrong," answered Chandos; and
then kissing her fair hand, he gazed with a look of mingled gaiety
and tenderness in her face; adding, "and yet, my Rose, I do not
think I shall consent after all."

"Not consent!" she exclaimed; and then, shaking her head, as she
saw the bright look with which he regarded her, she said, "Nay, I
know you better: you are jesting, Chandos."

"No, my Rose," he answered, "I am not jesting. But I will not

tease you with suspense: what I mean, my love, is, that I do not
think there will be any need of my consent; for I trust the clouds are
passing away, and that your father's fortunes may be re-established,
without the noble sacrifice your uncle proposes to make."

"The change must be soon, Chandos," said Rose, sadly; "for these
people have announced their intention of making him a bankrupt the
day after to-morrow, if their demands are not complied with."

"The change has taken place, dear Rose," replied Chandos; "and I
thank God that I have been made the instrument of bringing good
news and comfort to you all. It is this which has brought me so
suddenly back to town. But, hark! that is the General's knock, or I
am mistaken."

"My father is with him," said Rose; "but tell me, dear Chandos, tell
me the news. Let me be the first to give it him."

"It is that I have recovered all the property carried off by that
villain, Bond," answered Chandos Winslow. "I have the whole of the
shares with me now."
 Rose clasped her hands in joy, and at the same moment the door
opened, and the dejected face of Mr. Tracy appeared. He gazed for
an instant sternly at the laughing countenance of his daughter, and
then made a movement as if to quit the room; but Rose sprang up
and cast her arms round him--whispered some words in his ear, and
then, in the excess of her joy, burst into tears.

"What? what?" cried Mr. Tracy. "I did not hear. What does she
say? What does she mean?" and he turned towards Chandos with an
eager and impatient look, while the foot of General Tracy was heard
ascending the stairs.

"She has good news to give you, my dear Sir," replied Chandos;
"the best that you have received for some time; but I really must not
take it from her lips. Be calm, be calm, dear Rose, and tell your
father."

"Oh he has got them all!" cried Rose, still weeping; "all the
shares--all that the wretched man carried off."

"You, you, Chandos?" cried Mr. Tracy.

"Got them all!" exclaimed General Tracy, pushing past his brother.

"All," replied Chandos; "at least all that were advertised. They are
here, my dear Sir. I never was so loaded with riches before;" and he
produced the various packets from his pockets.

Mr. Tracy sat quietly down on the sofa, in profound silence; he did
not touch the papers; he did not even look at them. His emotions
were too strong, too overpowering; and he remained with his eyes
bent upon the floor, till Rose sat down beside him, and took his hand
in hers, when he threw his arms round her, and kissed her tenderly,
whispering, "Go and tell our dear Emily, my child."

General Tracy in the meantime ran hastily over the shares,

comparing them with a memorandum in his pocket-book. Then laid
them down upon the table; and marching across to Chandos, shook
both his hands heartily, but without a word. Chandos understood
him, however, and it was enough. The next minute the old officer
rang the bell; and on the servant appearing, said in a quiet tone,
"Bring me the paper out of my room, Joseph."

As soon as he had got it, he set to work, with pencil in hand,

upon the prices of the share market; and after a rapid calculation,
looked with a triumphant smile to his brother, saying, "Twenty-three
thousand pounds to spare, Arthur. Tomorrow, please God, they all
go, for I shall never have peace till the cursed trash is out of the
house. Now, Chandos, my dear boy, let us hear no more--."

But before Mr. Winslow could answer, Emily Tracy followed Rose
into the room, and cast herself into her father's arms. Her next
movement was to hold out her hand to Chandos, saying, "Oh, thank
you, thank you! You have saved us from horrors. But how has it
been done?"

"Why I have now my confession to make," answered Chandos;

"and if I had been politic, I should have done it while the first
pleasant surprise was upon you all; for I have taken upon me, Mr.
Tracy, to act for you very boldly."

"Whatever you have promised, I will perform," answered Mr.

Tracy, "and that with deep and heartfelt thanks; for you have saved
me from disgrace which I could never have survived."

"If it be for twenty thousand pounds, it shall be paid gladly," said

the General.

"Nay, it is not so bad as that," replied Chandos; "the worse part of

my case, my dear Sir, is, that, unauthorised, I have taken upon me
to act as your agent, and in that quality to give the man a general
release. As to the money, there was not any great difficulty, for I
gave the scoundrel fifty pounds in hand to help him to France, and
accepted his bill at seven days for the rest, to close the whole
transaction at once; as at all events if I acted wrong, I could but be
the loser of the sum. He demanded ten thousand pounds--."

"Well, let him have it," said General Tracy.

"No," answered Chandos, "I would not let him have it; but I
engaged myself for five hundred; and it is for you to judge whether I
acted right in so doing, knowing, as I did, that in this case time was
of the greatest importance."

"You acted admirably," said Mr. Tracy; "and I have to thank you
for your decision, as well as for your prudent management."

"If it had been in my hands, I fear I should have given him

whatever he asked," said the old officer; "for the fearful idea of my
brother being made a bankrupt--a bankrupt, Chandos, like a mere
trader--would have swallowed up all cool prudence. But now tell us
all about the how, the when, and the where you found this pitiful
knave."

"Do you know, General," replied Chandos, "I fear I must leave
that part of the tale untold for to-night. I have some matters of
much moment on which I wish to have the best legal advice I can
get; and I must seek it instantly. If I can obtain the opinion and
directions I want to-night, I shall leave town early to-morrow. If not,
I shall come in during the morning, and will tell you all."

"But do give me a hint, however slight," said Mr. Tracy; "it seems
to me like a happy dream; and I fear I shall wake and find it unreal,
unless I have some confirmation."

"All I can stop to say," replied Chandos, "is, that your little
protégé, General, the gipsey boy, acted a great part in the
adventure; and gallantly did he perform it, I assure you, at the
hazard of life and limb."
 "I will make a soldier of him," answered the old officer; "I will buy
him a commission. But there has been danger then, in this affair."

"Oh no!" replied Chandos; "only danger to the poor boy. But now
I will bid you adieu. Farewell, dear Rose. The greatest happiness I
have ever known in life, has been to bring you news which took a
heavy load from your kind warm heart."

Chandos Winslow shook hands with the rest of the party, and was
then leaving the room, when the General exclaimed, "Chandos,
Chandos!" and followed him to the top of the stairs.

"My dear friend," said the officer, "you have done us the greatest
service that man could render us; but, in so doing, you have
removed obstacles to your own happiness. Rose and Emily, are, of
course, my heiresses. I do not see why they should not have now
the greater part of their future fortunes: for I have no expenses; and
now, with changed circumstances, it would not, of course, be so
imprudent to marry, as it appeared some days ago. Poor Emily is
sad; for she has heard from your brother, announcing his return to
England; and claiming the completion of her engagement with him. I
must take it in hand myself, I see; for I will not have the dear girl's
happiness thrown away. Now, however, farewell: for I see you are in
haste; but come in, whenever you return from your journey; and
remember, that the causes which induced me to exact a promise of
you, to refrain from pressing Rose to a speedy union have been
removed. Only one word more; and that on business. Are you at the
same hotel where you were the other day?"

"Yes," replied Chandos; "I left my baggage there as I came."

"Well then, I will send a cheque for the five hundred pounds
there, this evening," said the General.

"Perhaps, it would be better," answered Chandos, "if you would

have the kindness to pay it into my account at Curtis's; as it is very
possible, that I may not be home till very late to-night. Any time
within a week will do."

"It shall be done to-morrow," replied the old officer; and they
parted: Chandos to seek his friend, Sir----, through courts and
chambers; and the General, to rejoice with his brother on a
deliverance from that which had seemed an inevitable disgrace not
half-an-hour before. General Tracy was a good, kind man; but, like
everybody else in the world who fancies he has no prejudices, he
had several; and those he had were strong. He looked upon it
undoubtedly as a disgrace not to pay a just debt under any
circumstances; but the sting of the calamity which had menaced his
brother, was to him that he might be "made a bankrupt like a mere
trader." There was the rub with General Tracy. If none but
"gentlemen and soldiers" could be made bankrupts, he would not
have felt it half as much, though he would have deplored it still. But
to be put in the Gazette like a ruined pork-butcher, that was terrible
indeed! How strange it is, that in estimating disgraces, we never
look to the act, but to the consequences!

CHAPTER XLV.

The ground-floor of Sir William Winslow's house at Elmsly,

contained as splendid a suite of rooms as any in England; and
nothing that taste could do to give grace to the decorations, or that
skill could effect to afford that comfort of which we are so fond, had
been neglected by the last possessor, during a period of three years
before his death. Sir William Winslow, however, was in some sort a
stranger to the house, which was now his own: for, during several
years, great coldness had subsisted between himself and his father.
He had spent much of his time on the Continent; and had not, in
fact, been at Elmsly for two years, when he was summoned thither
in haste, a few hours before Sir Harry's death. The interview
between himself and his brother Chandos at Winslow Abbey took
place on the Tuesday; and on the Thursday following, about nine
o'clock at night, he was seated in the large dining-room of the
magnificent suite I have mentioned, with the clergyman of the
parish opposite to him.

The table, looking like a little island, in the ocean of Turkey carpet
which flowed around, was covered with the desert, and with sundry
decanters of choice wines; and two servants handed the plates of
fruit and preserves to their master, and their master's guest. When
this ceremony had been performed, the attendants left the room;
and a desultory conversation, mingled with wine took place between
Sir William and the clergyman. The latter was a stout, portly man,
with a good deal of the animal in his original composition; but rigidly
and pertinaciously kept down by a strong moral sense, and high
religious feelings. The motives which had produced so speedy an
invitation on the part of Sir William Winslow were various: but one
was, that Sir William did not like to be left alone. His own thoughts
were unpleasant companions. Again, he was anxious to retrieve
some part of the good opinions he had lost. He felt that he had
undervalued character; and, of late, things had appeared important
to him, which he had looked upon with contempt before. Amongst
others, some sort of religious opinions began to be objects of desire.
He did not much care what, for his notions on the subject were very
indefinite; but he felt a want, a craving for something that could give
him the support which he possessed not in his own heart--for
something that would afford him hope, when there was nought
within him but despair. He had heard--he knew, indeed--that the
Christian religion promised pardon for offences, hope to the sinner,
peace to the repentant. And he sent to the clergyman to seek a
certain portion of religion, just as a thirsty labourer would send to a
public-house for a jug of beer.
 The conversation, as I have said, was of a desultory kind: the
subject of religion was approached in a timid, uncertain sort of way
by Sir William Winslow; more as an opening than anything else: and
the clergyman answered in a few brief, but very striking words;
which produced a deep effect. He treated the matter less doctrinally
than philosophically, and in such a manner, that Sir William Winslow
was inclined to fancy what he said had a personal application to
himself; although the good man had no such intention.

"It is beautifully and happily ordained," said the clergyman, in

answer to something which had preceded, "that the commission of
crime, and the reproaches of conscience, very frequently, by the
desolation which they produce in worldly things, should awaken in
us the conviction of another state; give us a sense of our
immortality; and teach the man who has only known himself as a
mere animal, that he possesses a spirit, to be lost or saved, to live
for ever to punishment or felicity. That conviction once gained, and
the question naturally follows: 'What can I do to be saved?' The
Word of God replies 'Repent'; and repentance to salvation is not
unfrequently the consequence."

Sir William Winslow mused; but after a time he replied, in a

discursive manner, "It is a curious consideration what this same spirit
can be. I doubt not its existence; for I feel a moving power within
me, apart from, and independent of, mere will. But what is it? I see
it not. No one has ever seen it."

"Hold, hold," cried the clergyman; "you must not say that. The
records of Scripture bear witness, that spirits have been seen; and it
can be shown philosophically, that there is no reason for supposing
such a thing impossible."

The worthy pastor had been set upon a subject which was a
favourite one with him, and he went on, citing history after history,
and instance after instance, to prove that, under certain
circumstances, there were means of communication established
between the dead and the living. He even went so far as to argue
that it would be absurd to suppose it otherwise; that granting that
there is such a thing as spirit, and that spirit is immortal, all analogy
would show that there must be a power in the disembodied of
producing certain influences upon their brethren in the flesh. "You
cannot point out any order of beings," he said, "from the most
imperfect to the most perfect, which has not some knowledge and
communication with those next to it in the great scale of animated
nature."

Sir William Winslow listened, but replied not, keeping his teeth
tight shut, and his lips compressed; and the clergyman proceeded in
the same strain, till the clock struck ten, when he suddenly rose to
depart.

His host would willingly have detained him a little longer; for, as I
have said, he loved not to be alone; but he was too haughty to press
it beyond one request; and the clergyman, who was a man of habits,
always retired at ten.

When he was gone Sir William walked into the drawing-room and
ordered coffee. He took it very strong, and that agitated rather than
calmed his nerves. He walked up and down for half-an-hour, and
then he said to himself, "I will go and look over those letters. There
is no use in going to bed, I should not sleep." He then ordered
candles in the library; but he would not go thither till they were
lighted. When that was done he walked slowly in, and took up some
of the unopened letters with which the table was strewed. The
second which he broke was signed "Overton;" and after having run
his eye down the page, he threw it away with a look of anger. He
would read no more, and sitting down in the large arm chair, where
so often his father had sat, he gnawed his lip, with his eyes bent
upon the ground.

The clock struck eleven, and Sir William started in his seat and
counted it. A minute or two after, he took out his pocket-book, and
drew from it a folded piece of vellum. He did not then look at the
contents, however, but thrust it into a drawer of the table. Then,
rising from his seat, he walked to the window and looked out. It was
a beautiful moonlight night, the soft, silvery rays resting on the
lawns and woods of the park, and the little stars, faint and sleepy in
the sky. He gazed for several minutes; but I know not whether he
beheld anything but the objects of his own fancy. Then he walked up
and down the room again, and twice stood for a moment or two
opposite the drawer in the library table. At length he suddenly pulled
it open, took out the vellum, unfolded it, and read the strange
contents.

"By--," he exclaimed, after thinking for a moment, "this is devilish

strange! it is the very day she drowned herself!" and the vellum
trembled in his hand. "I won't go. Why should I go?"

He looked at the writing again: "She will come and fetch me!" he
repeated, with his lip curling; "I should like to see her;" and the
proud spirit seemed to rise up again in full force. But then he shook
his head sadly, and murmured, "Poor girl! she told me once before
she would come, and she did--to her own destruction."

The clock struck the half hour, and in great agitation--agitation

scarcely sane--Sir William Winslow walked up and down the room
again, with a wild, irregular step, his eyes rolling in his head, as if he
saw some strange sight, and his hand frequently carried to his brow,
and pressed tight upon his forehead.

At the end of about ten minutes, he stopped, gazed vacantly upon

the floor, and then, with a sudden start, exclaimed aloud, "I will go
to her! She shall not say that I feared her. She shall not come here--
no, no--yet I believe, alive or dead, she would do it, if she said it.--It
is her hand too. That name, how often have I seen it with different
feelings! Poor Susan!" and walking out of the library, and through
the corridor, he took his hat and quitted the house.
 The moon lighted him on his way through the park. He could see
every pebble in the ground; but yet his step was as irregular as if
the way had been rough and rude. Nevertheless he went very quick;
he seemed impatient; and when he found the park-gates shut, he
did not wait to awaken the people of the lodge, but cut across to a
stile which went over the paling; and there he issued forth into the
road. About two hundred yards before him rose the church, with its
good broad cemetery, encircled by a low wall. The moon shone full
on the white building, rising like a spectre amongst the dark trees
and fields around.

Sir William Winslow stopped suddenly, crossed his arms upon his
chest, and thought. Then the heavy bell of the church clock began
to strike the hour of midnight; and walking rapidly on he reached the
gate of the churchyard, while the sound of the last stroke still swung
trembling in the air. He passed through the little turnstile, and
walked up the path. There was a new tombstone close upon the
right, which he had never seen before; and his eyes fixed upon it.
The letters of the inscription were all plain in the moonlight, and the
name "Roberts" stared him in the face, with these words following,
"Brutally murdered, by some person unknown, on the fifth of
February, one thousand eight hundred and forty-five, in the sixtieth
year of his age."

Sir William Winslow trembled violently, and murmured, "Who has

done this? Who has done this?"

His courage had well nigh deserted him entirely; and he paused,
hardly able to go on, when a voice from the farther side of the
cemetery asked, "Are you come?"

He knew the tongue, though it had sounded sweeter in other

days; and striding forward, he answered, "I am here! Where are
you?"
 "Here," answered the voice from the direction of a tall
mausoleum, over the mouth of the Winslow vault: "Come on!"

He advanced, but could perceive no one. He walked round the

monument; the space was quite clear around. "Where are you?
What would you with me?" he cried.

"I am where I have a right to be," answered the voice from a spot
apparently below his feet. "I am amongst those from whom sprang a
man who promised to make me one of them, and broke his promise.
I am amongst your dead, William Winslow! Your father is on my
right hand, and your mother on my left. Your place is here beside
me, and will not be long vacant, if your spirit does not bow itself to
repentance, your strong will does not yield to right."

"God of Heaven!" he cried, laying his hand upon the gate in the
iron railing which surrounded the tomb, and shaking it violently; but
instantly there was a low laugh, and a voice said, "Poor fool!--You
ask," continued the voice, "what I would with you? For myself, I
seek nothing. You can neither harm nor benefit me more. The time
is past. The hour is gone by; and what you could once have done, is
now beyond your power. But for our boy, you can do much; you can
atone to the mother, by love to the child. Take him to yourself; own
him as yours; and oh! above all things, teach him to avoid and to
abhor such crimes as you yourself have committed."

"Our boy!" cried Sir William Winslow, "I knew not that you had
one, Susan. Oh, Susan, in mercy, in pity, tell me where he is?"

"Ask your brother," answered the voice; "ask that kind, noble
brother, whom you have wronged, who has been a father to your
child, when you were depriving himself of his inheritance; who has
taught him virtue, and honour, and the love of God. He will give him
to your arms, if you show yourself worthy of him. Thus much for
myself, William Winslow; but, oh that there were any power in
prayers, to make you grant that which is needful for another."
 "Speak, speak!" said he eagerly; "I will grant whatever you ask. I
wronged you basely, I know; I broke my plighted word; I forfeited
my honour given. Speak, Susan! Let me make atonement, as far as
it can now be made."

"The other for whom I prayed is yourself," answered the voice.

"Oh, William Winslow, beware. The cup is well nigh full. You cannot
wake the dead; but you can do justice to the living. Bend your knees
to God, and implore mercy; humble your heart even before men,
and do not persist in evil. Restore what you have wrongly taken, and
all may go well; but hear the last words that ever you will hear on
earth, from her you wronged on earth: If you persist in the evil you
can by a word redress, the crime that you think is buried for ever in
darkness, will rise up into light by the consequences of your own
acts. Such is judgment--such is retribution--such is the will of God.
Amen."

"But of what particular wrong do you speak?" asked Sir William

Winslow.

There was no answer, and he exclaimed, "Speak, Susan! speak!"

All was silent, and again and again he endeavoured to obtain a

reply, but in vain.

At length, moving slowly away, he passed round the other side of

the church, to avoid the grave of the steward, and soon reached the
park. He hurried homeward; but he entered not his own house so
speedily. For two long hours he walked backwards and forwards
upon the terrace, with his head bent down and his eyes fixed upon
the sand. Who shall undertake to detail the terrible turns of the
struggle then within him. It was a battle between the whole host of
darkness and the cherubim of the Lord. Fear, and Doubt, and Pride,
and Vanity, and all their tribes were arrayed against the small, bright
legion which had gained one small spot of vantage ground in his
heart. Doubt and Fear he knew must remain for ever on this side of
the grave, to hold that part of the castle to which he had given them
admittance; but their very presence there made him anxious to
exclude them from the rest; and he repeated a thousand times in
spirit, "Would to God I had not burned that will! Would to God that
aught would afford me a fair excuse for acting as it dictated! What
can I do? Where can I turn? Heaven send me, light and help!"

Still the internal strife lasted long; and when at length he re-
entered the house, body and mind felt worn and exhausted. His
valet gazed at him with one of his quiet, serpent looks, and said,
"You seem ill, Sir. Had you not better have some cordial?"

"No, no," answered Sir William Winslow, turning from him with a
faint shudder; "I want nothing but rest. It matters not."

But that night he did not lie down to rest without bending the
knee, and imploring mercy and protection. It was the first time for
many years. It was the first night, too, that he had slept for more
than an hour at a time for several months; but now he remained in
slumber undisturbed till ten o'clock, and when he woke he felt the
effect of repose. He rose, threw on his dressing-gown, and
approached the glass on his dressing-table. He hardly knew the face
that it reflected. He did not feel ill. Sleep had refreshed him; his
limbs were strong and vigorous, but all colour had fled from his
cheek. He was thenceforth as pale as the dead.

He then went to the window for air, and the first thing his eye
lighted upon was his valet, advanced a step or two on the terrace,
talking to a tall, stout man, of a very sallow complexion, in a long,
brown great coat. Sir William Winslow's heart sunk, he knew not
why. He did not like to see that Italian talking with any one since he
had mentioned the spots of blood upon his coat; and he gazed for a
moment at the servant as he stood with his back towards him, with
feelings of pain and alarm. Suddenly a change came over him. He
raised his head high, and his proud nostril expanded. "It matters
not," he said to himself; "I will be no man's slave long. I will do
Chandos justice--I will provide for my poor boy--see him--embrace
him--and then that scoundrel shall go forth to do his worst."

With these thoughts he rang his bell sharply, and soon after
descended to breakfast. His meal was speedily concluded; and going
into the library, he wrote for some time. One paper which he
covered seemed to be a mere note; but for the other he consulted
several times a law book, which he took down out of the library.

When that was done, he rang again, and ordered the servant who
appeared to send the butler, the bailiff, and the housekeeper to him,
all together. Before they could be collected he had folded the note
and addressed it to "Chandos Winslow, Esq.," and when the three
persons he had sent for appeared, with some surprise at their
unusual summons, he said, I wish you to witness my signature of
this paper. Then taking the pen, he wrote his name at the bottom,
saying, "This is my last will and testament." The witnesses put their
hands to the paper and withdrew, each observing how ill their
master looked, and arguing by the sudden signature of his will that
he felt more unwell than he appeared.

The event became a matter of gossip in the housekeeper's room,

and the Italian valet rubbed his forehead and looked thoughtful; but
he had not much time for consideration before he was called to carry
a note, which had just arrived, to Sir William, who had gone to his
dressing-room previous to going out. The man looked at it
somewhat wistfully as he took it up; but he dared not finger the
envelope, and it was delivered without the contents having escaped
by the way.

"Countermand my horse," said his master; "I will write an answer

directly. Some one is waiting, of course."

"Yes, Sir William," replied the valet, and his master walked out at
once, and descended to the library. There, he again spread out the
letter before him, and read to the following effect:--
 "The Golden Bull, Elmsly,
"May, 1845.

"Sir,--I am directed by my client, Chandos Winslow, Esq., to

inform you, that from documents lately in the possession of Mr.
Roberts, deceased, and from private marks thereon, in the
handwriting of the late Sir Harry Winslow, of the true intent and
meaning of which private marks the said Chandos Winslow is
cognizant, he has reason to believe, that an authentic copy of the
last will and testament of the aforesaid Sir Harry Winslow, Bart.,
signed with his name, and dated, '25th June, 1840,' is still to be
found in a certain depository, at Elmsly House; hitherto unsearched
by you: and, in consequence, I beg, in his name, to request that you
will cause search to be made in the said place or depository, with all
convenient speed, in the presence of myself, his attorney, or any
other person or persons whom he may select: or otherwise, that you
will sanction and permit the said search to be made by the said
Chandos Winslow, Esq., or myself, as his attorney, in presence of
yourself, or any other person or persons by yourself selected, as
witnesses that the search or examination is well and properly made,
without fraud or favour, by, Sir,

"Your most obedient Servant,

"Henry Miles,

"Attorney-at-Law and Solicitor to the firm

of
Miles, Furlong, and Miles, S----."

"P. S. Sir, I am directed by my client to inform you, that he has no

desire to be present in person at the proposed search, as he judges
that, under circumstances, his visit to Elmsly might not be
agreeable."
 When he had read, Sir William Winslow held the letter up with a
trembling hand, and there was evidently a renewed struggle in his
bosom. But his eye rested on the note he had written to Chandos;
and perhaps, he compared the feelings with which he had
spontaneously addressed his brother, with those which were now
excited by irritated pride, at what he conceived an attempt to drive
him to that which he had been willing to do undriven. At all events,
he smiled--very likely, at the first discovery of the secret springs of
his own actions; and sitting down again--for he had risen for a
moment--he wrote the following words:--

"Sir William Winslow presents his compliments to Mr. Miles, and

begs to inform him that he is perfectly at liberty to make the
proposed search at Elmsly. Sir William, however, would prefer that it
should be made in the presence of his brother, Mr. Chandos Winslow,
whom he will be happy to see at Elmsly, as soon as possible, for that
purpose. He sincerely hopes that the will maybe found, as it may
save some trouble; but, at the same time, he begs Mr. Miles to
forward, or present the inclosed note (written some hours ago) to
Mr. Winslow, begging him to understand that Sir William adheres to
the contents, irrespective of the result of the search now demanded.

"Elmsly, &c."

The note was immediately despatched, and the master of the

house leaned his head upon his hand in deep thought. He was
disturbed by the entrance of the valet, who advanced with a low and
humble bow, saying, "Could I speak with you for a moment, Sir?"

"No," replied the baronet, sternly; "I am engaged."

 "But, Sir William," said the man.

"Leave the room, Sir!" thundered his master; "did you not hear
me?"

The man obeyed; but as he quitted the library, he muttered, "Oh!

very well."

Sir William Winslow felt he had gained something during the last
few hours. It was courage of a peculiar sort. The day before he
would not have found resolution so to answer a man, who, to a
certain degree, had his life and honour in his hands. Now he had no
hesitation; and as he sat and thought, he asked himself if it was the
having taken the first step towards atonement which had restored to
him his long-lost firmness. He thought it was; and he resolved to go
on boldly. Perhaps he mistook the cause of the change in himself.
His was one of those quick and irritable dispositions which cannot
bear suspense of any kind, which will rather confront the utmost
peril than wait an hour in fear; and the very fact of having taken a
strong resolution gave the power to execute it. But still he fancied
that the purpose of doing right, of making atonement, was the result
of his renewed vigour; and the mistake was salutary.

In the meantime, the man whom he had dismissed from his

presence so abruptly went out to one of the several backdoors of the
house, and looked about, casting his eyes over the wood, which
there came near the house. For a minute or two he seemed to be
looking for something and not discovering it; but then, he beckoned
with his finger, and a dark man, in a long great-coat, came across
from under the trees and joined him.

They spoke in low tones, but eagerly, for about five minutes; and
at last the dark man said, "No; we had better work separate. I will
manage it, you'll see; and you can do the same if you do but
frighten him enough. I must speak with the woman first; but I'll be
back in an hour, if you think he'll be alone then."
 "I dare say he will," answered the valet, "there are not many
people come here now; but if there should be any one, you can wait
about till they are gone."

"Very well," replied the other; and with a nod and a low laugh, he
turned away, and left the Italian standing at the door.

CHAPTER XLVI.

Chandos Winslow sat in the little village inn at Elmsly, with his
keen old solicitor from S----; who had, as the reader has seen, just
mingled in a note to Sir William Winslow, a certain degree of lawyer-
like formality, with an affection of commonplace ease, which he
thought was masterly in its kind. They were awaiting the reply; and
the lawyer calculated upon either one or two courses being adopted
by the baronet to meet the pungent contents of his missive. "Sir
William," he said, addressing Chandos, "will, I imagine, either beg to
know where the will is supposed to be concealed, promising to cause
search to be made himself; or else he will roughly refer us to his
solicitors in London. Mark my words, if he does not. At all events,
that last hit of our's yesterday--coming in, and finding the rough
draught of the will in Roberts's handwriting, amongst the papers in
the cabinet left to you with the other things--was capital. Hang me,
Mr. Winslow, if I did not think for a minute that it was the will itself.
However, as it is, we shall have an excellent case of it; and I should
not wonder if it were to go through every court in England, up to the
House of Lords."

"A pleasant prospect," said Chandos, drily; and he fell into the
silence of expectation.
 "Is Mr. Chandos Winslow here?" asked a good, clear, round voice,
upon the stairs about five minutes after; and starting up, Chandos
opened the door, when, to his surprise, he beheld Lockwood with
the little boy, Tim Stanley.

"Well, I hope I've got him here in time," said Lockwood, "though I
could not get over by noon, as you wished; for you see, Chandos, it
is a good long round first to Northferry and then to Elmsly; and I did
not receive the message till five this morning."

Chandos gazed on him in surprise, but shook him warmly, by the

hand, and caressed the boy, saying, at the same time, "I am glad to
see you both, Lockwood; but I certainly had no notion you were
coming."

"Didn't you send?" exclaimed Lockwood. "Then who the devil did,
I wonder? I had a message this morning shouted in at my window,
at five, to bring the boy over here by noon to-day to meet you. But
now we must have some dinner; for I am hungry enough, and the
boy is ravenous. What have you done with Faber? Where's Atra
Cura, if he is no longer behind the horseman?"

"We left him at S----," replied Chandos; "he was afraid to come
within ten miles of Elmsly."

"He's a poor creature," cried Lockwood, "a very poor creature

indeed. There is something in such weakness that debases
prosperity, and makes even misfortune contemptible; though it is
often an element of grandeur, as Seneca justly says: 'Nihil æque
magnam apud nos admirationem occupet, quam homo fortiter
miser.'"

"He's a little chicken-hearted," said the lawyer; "but he's very

right to keep out of harm's way when he is not paid for going into it.
And now, Mr. Winslow, I had better ring for something to eat for the
nice little fellow--a son of yours, I presume--we can take a bit of
lunch at the same time. It is an agreeable way of occupying time."
 The luncheon was ordered; and though Chandos denied the
degree of relationship to little Tim imputed, the lawyer remained in
the same opinion. It did not at all spoil Tim's appetite, however. He
was not at all aware that he had ever had a father, and would quite
as soon have had Chandos in that capacity as any one else. He set
to heartily then; and so did Lockwood, and eke the lawyer; but
before the latter had eaten two mouthfuls, the messenger who had
been sent to Elmsly returned with a letter for him.

"Soon decided!" said Mr. Miles; "he has not taken long to
consider." And after opening the cover containing the epistle
addressed to himself, he held the one enclosed in his hand, without
looking at the direction, while he read the other.

"Well, this takes me by surprise!" said the lawyer; "remorse of

conscience, evidently! Read that, Mr. Winslow; the other is for you
too."

Chandos took the letters, and read first, with much wonder, the
one which had been opened; and then broke the seal of the other,
which contained these words:--

"Come to me, Chandos. Let us forget the past, and be really

brothers for the future. If you can show me, as I think you hinted,
the particulars of the last will, it shall be acted upon by me as if it
were before me. If not, I will put it in force as far as I recollect it; for
I certainly did read it once; but that is a long time ago, and I do not
perfectly remember it. At all events, come to me; for there is a sort
of heavy presentiment upon me, that my life will not last long; and I
would fain die in friendship with my brother.

"Yours,

"William Winslow."
 "It must be so, indeed!" said Chandos Winslow; "this change is
too great, too sudden to be in the ordinary course of events. Some
severe illness must be hanging over him. Come, Mr. Miles, let us go
at once, Lockwood will stay with the boy till we return."

"Nay, I will go with you part of the way, at least," said Lockwood;
"and you shall tell me what is the drift of all this as you go; for I am
in darkness. Tim can take care of himself; can't you, Tim?"

Chandos threw Lockwood his brother's two letters; and, while he

read them over in silence, little Tim declared he could take care of
himself very well. Lockwood, however, took his hat and accompanied
his half-brother and the lawyer on their way, sometimes asking a
question, sometimes falling into a fit of thought.

"I'll tell you what, Chandos," he said at length, "I cannot help
thinking there is some trick in all this. I never saw such a sudden
change. Why it is only three nights ago that he growled at you like a
dog."

"No, no, there is no trick," replied Mr. Winslow; "but I fear there is
some serious illness, either commenced or approaching, which has
thus depressed his spirits, and given conscience power to make her
voice heard in the stillness of the passions."

"Well, I am not quite satisfied of that," answered Lockwood, "and

shall be glad to hear the result; but I will not go in with you. We
were never friends, and the sight of me might raise the devil again. I
shall look out for you, however, as you come back."

"I will lead you the shortest way," said Chandos, speaking to the
lawyer, who was approaching the great gates; "that path takes one
half a mile round;" and proceeding along the road, he did not enter
the park till he reached a small doorway, which stood open during
the day.
 The path with which this doorway communicated, led through the
depth of a splendid wood of Spanish chestnuts, divided by
somewhat formal alleys, which crossed each other in various
directions. When Chandos and his companions had walked on not
more than two hundred yards, they could hear the voices of two
persons speaking vehemently, and at the first traversing alley which
they came to, they all turned their heads to the right, whence the
sounds proceeded. Perhaps eighty or ninety yards from them, under
the green shade of the wide leafy trees, were standing a man and a
woman. The man Chandos immediately recognized as his companion
in the stage-coach some days before, and in the woman, whose face
was turned towards them, he saw Sally Stanley. She was throwing
about her arms in wild and even fierce gesticulation, and in the
stillness of their footfalls over the turf, he could hear her exclaim, "If
you do, a curse will cleave to you and destroy you, which never
failed yet--a curse which will,"--but then her eyes lighted on the
three persons who were passing, and she darted in amongst the
trees.

The man followed her, after taking a look round; and Lockwood
asked, "Do you know who those are?"

"Tim's mother," answered Chandos; "and one of her tribe, I

suppose."

"One of the gipsies, if you mean that," replied Lockwood; "and

the worst fellow amongst them. If I catch him, I will break every
bone in his skin. He gave me a blow when I had my hands tied, and
I will not forget him. But as to Sally Stanley being one of the gipsies,
Chandos, that is a mistake."

"Then my suspicions are correct;" said Mr. Winslow, with an

inquiring look at the other's face. "How was she saved from the
river?"
 "That I don't know," replied Lockwood; "the gipsies pulled her
out, I suppose. But I thought you must have known all about it,
from your fondness for the boy. If you come to calculate, you will
see whose son he must be."

"How strange are the turns of fate!" said Chandos; and the whole
party fell into deep thought.

Two or three minutes after, Lockwood halted, saying, "I will go

out into the open part of the park, and wait for you under a tree; for
I am anxious to have the first news:" and Chandos and the lawyer
walked on to the house, which was not more than a quarter of a
mile in advance. When they were gone, Lockwood sauntered up and
down for about ten minutes--perhaps it might be a little more; for he
was a man accustomed to solitude and his own thoughts; so that
lonely time flew fast with him. At length, however, he thought he
heard a light step running; and the next moment Sally Stanley was
by his side. Her face was eager, and her eyes sparkling, but not with
joy.

"Lockwood," she said, in a low tone, "Lockwood, run up to the

village; to the inn."

"Has anything happened to the boy?" cried Lockwood, with a look

of apprehension.

"No, no!" answered the woman; "but run up--find out what the
two men are doing over here--the two men from S----. Listen to
what they say-- and save him if they are seeking him."

Her meaning was not very clear; but there was so much
apprehension and impatience in her look, that Lockwood, saying,
"Well, well, I suppose I shall find out what you mean when I get
there," turned away and left her.

His long legs and his quick steps soon brought him to the door of
the Golden Bull, at Elmsly; but all seemed quiet on the outside of the
house, at least. There was a little sort of gig, with the horse taken
out, standing in the road, and no other thing to attract attention.
Lockwood entered the house, and was about to walk up to the room
where the boy had been left, when in what was called the parlour,
on the left, he heard some men's voices speaking; and in he went.

The room contained two men and a servant girl, putting down
some beer and glasses before them; and Lockwood sat down and
asked for a glass of ale. Two or three sentences passed between the
previous occupants of the room, which seemed principally to refer to
their own dinner; but there were words mingled with their discourse
which made the last comer lend an attentive ear; and before the ale
was brought to him, he rose, walked slowly out of the room with a
careless air, hurried up stairs, and spoke a few eager words to the
boy Tim.

He was answered only by a look of quick intelligence; and after

receiving a few words of clear direction as to the way to Elmsly
House, Tim snatched up his cap and ran off.

Lockwood then descended to the parlour again, drunk his ale, and
took up an old newspaper that lay on one of the tables.

CHAPTER XLVII.

We must now turn to Sir William Winslow again. He remained for

full a quarter of an hour in thought; but then he rose, and walked
backwards and forwards in the library, with a quick step: there was a
struggle within him. While he had remained seated, old feelings, old
habits of thought, old vices of the mind began to return upon him.
None of the devils which torture and tempt humanity ever give up