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Chapter Six
PROGRAMMING LANGUAGES
Chapter Summary

This chapter begins with a short history of programming languages. It presents the classification of
languages by generations and also points out that such a linear classification scheme fails to capture
the true diversity of languages today. To support this claim, the chapter introduces the declarative,
functional, and object-oriented paradigms as alternatives to the more traditional imperative
approach. There are separate sections later in the chapter on both the object-oriented and declarative
paradigms.
The chapter also presents some common structures found in third-generation imperative and
object-oriented languages, drawing examples from Ada, C, C++, C#, FORTRAN, and Java. Topics
covered include declaration statements, control statements, functions, and parameter passing. An
additional section extends this study to include topics associated with object-oriented languages.
To bridge the gap between high-level languages and machine language, this chapter discusses
the rudiments of language translation, including the basic steps of lexical analysis, parsing, and
code generation.
Optional sections introduce parallel programming, and explore declarative programming via
logic programming and the language Prolog.

Comments

1. This chapter is intended to serve one of two roles, depending on the programming background of
the audience. For those with previous programming experience, the chapter can be approached as
an introduction to the subject of language design and implementation. For those with no
programming experience, the chapter can serve as a generic introduction to programming
languages or a context in which a particular language can be emphasized.
2. I encourage you not to get bogged down in the details of this chapter. Discourage your students
from approaching the material in the context of memorizing facts about specific languages. Their
goal should be to answer questions such as "Identify some different programming paradigms,"
"Describe three generic control structures and indicate how they might be expressed in a high-level
programming language," and "Describe the difference between data type and data structure."
3. Although the section on declarative programming is optional, I encourage you to give it some
time in your class. It is important that beginning students be exposed to alternatives.
4. An area in programming language research is the identification of useful control structures and
the development of syntactic structures to represent them. Along these lines I like to use the
example of trying to find a particular value in an array using the equivalent of a "for" statement. The
problem is to exit the loop structure as soon as the target value is found without traversing more of
the array. This leads to the role of such statements as the "break" in C and its derivatives or "EXIT"
in FORTRAN.

Answers to Chapter Review Problems

1. The statements in the language are not made in terms of a particular machine’s characteristics.

33
2. Suppose the value of x is stored in the memory cell whose address is XY and the program begins
at address 00.
2100
31XY
2003
B110
2201
5112
31XY
B006
3. We'll represent the addresses of LENGTH, WIDTH, and HALFWAY by XX, YY, and ZZ,
respectively.
10XX
11YY
6001
30ZZ
4. Suppose the values W, X, Y, and Z are stored at locations WW, XX, YY, and ZZ, respectively.
Moreover, we use VV as an address.
2000
11XX
12YY
B1VV
11WW
VV: 5012
30ZZ
5. The answer to both questions is that this information is needed before the machine code for
manipulating the data can be generated. (To add two binary values uses a different op-code than
adding two floating-point values.)
6. Imperative paradigm: Programs consist of a sequence of commands.
Object-oriented paradigm: Programs are organized as active elements called objects.
Functional paradigm: Programs consist of nested functions.
Declarative paradigm: Programs consist of declarative statements that describe properties.
7. The smallest of the four values w, x, y, and z.
8. The string dcababcd.
9. The major item of data would be the account balance. The object should be able to respond to
deposit and withdrawal messages. Other objects in the program might be saving account objects,
mortgage objects, and credit card account objects.
10. An assembly language is essentially a mnemonic form of a machine language.
11. A simple approach would be to assign mnemonics to the opcodes, using R1, R2, and so on to
represent the registers, and separating the fields in each instruction with commas. This would
produce instructions such as ST R5, F2; MV R4, R5; and ROT R5, 3.
12. This approach is not self-documenting in the sense that it does not indicate that the value of
AirportAlt will not change in the program. Moreover, it allows the value to be changed by an
erroneous statement.
13. The declarative part of the program contains the programmer-defined terminology; the
procedural part contains the steps in the algorithm to be executed.
14. A literal is a specific value appearing as itself; a constant is a name for a fixed value; a variable is
a name whose associated value can change as the program executes.

34
15. a. Operator precedence is a priority system given to operations that determines the order in
which operations will be performed unless otherwise specified.
b. Depending on operator precedence the expression could be equal to either 24 or 12.
16. Structured programming refers to an organized method of developing and expressing a
program with the goal being to obtain a well-organized program that is easy to read, understand,
and modify.
17. In the first case the symbol represents a comparison; in the second case it represents data
movement.
18.

19. x = 2
while (x < 8):
. . .
x = x + 2
20. Music is normally written in an imperative language containing loops and "go to" control
structures.
21.

22. case(W)
5: Z = 7
6: Y = 7
7: X = 7

35
23. if (X > 5):
X = X + 2
else:
X = X + 1
24. a. if and switch structures
b. while, repeat, and for structures as well as recursion
c. the assignment statement
25. A translator merely converts a program form one language to another. An interpreter executes
the source program without producing a translated copy.
26. If the required coercion was allowed the value 2.5 would probably be truncated to 2.
27. All operations (including assignments) must be performed without coercion.
28. It would require time to copy the data as well as memory space to hold the copy.
29. When passing by value, the sequence 7, 5 would be printed. When passing by reference the
sequence 7, 7 would be printed.
30. When passing by value the sequence 5, 9, 5 would be printed. When passing by reference, the
sequence 9, 9, 9 would be printed.
31. 5, 9, 9
32. a. Passing parameters by value protects the calling environment from being altered by the
function being called.
b. Passing parameters by reference is more efficient than passing them by value.
33. Depending on the order of execution, X could be assigned either 25 or 13.
34. It is not clear which of the statements in the first program should be modified, but merely
changing the value of the constant NumberOfEmp in the alternate version would update the
program without difficulty.
35. a. A formal language is defined by its grammar, whereas the grammar of a natural language is
merely an attempt to explain the structure of a natural language.
b. Programming languages such as C, C++, Java, and C# are formal languages. Examples of
natural languages include English, Spanish, Italian, etc.
36.

37. As indicated in the text a solution could start like this:

38. The first diagram might be something like this:

39. Answers will vary. The top level diagram might indicate that the date can be expressed in
different ways. Then, other diagrams would reveal the details of each approach.

36
40. A string would have the structure of "yes no," or the word yes followed by a "sentence" followed
by the word no.
41. This one is a bit tough for beginning students. The point is for them to experience the reality that
the tools applied when solving a problem can actually restrict one's ability to find the solution. In
this case the problem is to describe the grammatical structure of a simple language. However, the
tool is the concept of a syntax diagram that only allows the description of context-free languages,
whereas the set to be described does not form a context-free language. Encourage your students to
think about this. An extension to the problem would be to ask your students what features could be
added to syntax diagrams that would allow such languages to be described.
42. Any string of the form xnyxn , where n is a nonnegative integer.
43.

44.

45. When performing either assignment statement, the value of X will already be in a register as a
result of the comparison performed earlier. Thus, it need not be retrieved from memory.
46. Y = 5
Z=9
47. X = 5
48. Both types and classes are templates used to describe the underlying composition of "variables."
Types, however, are predefined whereas classes are defined by the programmer within the "written
program." (We put written program in quotes because the class definition could be imported from a
pre-written package as in Java's API.) More about types versus classes is discussed in Section 7.7.
49. There are numerous answers. The idea is for students to isolate basic properties of buildings
within a single class and then use inheritance to describe more specialized classes such as houses,
hotels, grocery stores, barns, etc. Some students may find that multiple levels of inheritance are
helpful.
50. The public parts of a class are those parts that are accessible from the outside; the private parts
are those that are not accessible from the outside.
51. Answers will vary.
52. There may be numerous objects representing people. Some would be quests whereas others
would be hotel employees (a good place for inheritance). Other objects might include a
receptionist's desk, a seating area, and perhaps an elevator.

37
53. A programming language monitor is a construct that provides controlled access (usually mutual
exclusion) to a data item.
54. Concurrent processing can involve multiple threads of execution sharing and coordinating
resources. Programming languages with concurrency support provide easier ways for developers to
create and coordinate threads, share data between threads, provide mutual exclusion where
required, and prevent common concurrent programming errors.
55. One solution would be
56. No. The following resolution pattern produces the empty clause.
57. Assuming that the sibling relationship is amended so that a person cannot be his or her on
sibling as proposed in the answer to Question/Exercise 3, the additional relationships could be
defined as:
uncle(X, Y) :- male(X), sibling(X, Z), parent(Z, Y).
aunt(X, Y) :- female(X), sibling(X, Z), parent(Z, Y).
grandparent(X, Z) :- parent(X, Y), parent(Y, Z).
cousin(X, Y) :- sibling(W, Z), parent(W, X), parent(Z, Y).
parents(X, Y, Z) :- X \= Y, parent(X, Z), parent(Y, Z).
58. The last two statements translate to “David likes people who like sports” and “Alice likes things
that David likes.” Prolog will conclude that Alice likes sports, music, and herself. (Alice likes things
that David likes, David likes people who like sports, and Alice likes sports. Therefore, Alice likes Alice.)
59. Due to truncation errors, X may never be exactly equal to 1.00 so the loop may never terminate.

38
Other documents randomly have
different content
"On the contrary," said Hornby, "she wished me God speed—her own
words."
"Sir, you are a gentleman. Don't disgrace yourself and me—if I can
be disgraced—by quoting that woman's blasphemy before me. Sir,
you have had your answer. I shall go."
"Ellen, you must stay. I have got this interview with you to-night, to
ask you to be my wife. I love you as I believe woman was never
loved before, and I ask you to be my wife."
"You madman! you madman!"
"I am no madman. I was a madman when I spoke to you before; I
pray your forgiveness for that. You must forget that. I say that I love
you as a woman was never loved before. Shall I say something
more, Ellen?"
"Say on."
"You love me."
"I love you as man was never loved before; and I swear to you that
I hope I may lie stiff and cold in my unhonoured coffin, before I'll
ruin the man I love by tying him to such a wretch as myself."
"Ellen, Ellen, don't say that. Don't take such vows, which you will not
dare to break afterwards. Think, you may regain all that you have
lost, and marry a man who loves you—ah, so dearly!—and whom
you love too."
"Ay; there's the rub. If I did not love you, I would marry you to-
morrow. Regain all I have lost, say you? Bring my mother to life
again, for instance, or walk among other women again as an honest
one? You talk nonsense, Mr. Hornby—nonsense. I am going."
"Ellen! Ellen! Why do you stay in this house? Think once again."
"I shall never leave thinking; but my determination is the same. I tell
you, as a desperate woman like me dare tell you, that I love you far
too well to ruin your prospects, and I love my own soul too well ever
to make another false step. I stayed in this house because I loved to
see you now and then, and hear your voice; but now I shall leave
it."
"See me once more, Ellen—only once more!"
"I will see you once more. I will tear my heart once more, if you
wish it. You have deserved all I can do for you, God knows. Come
here the day after to-morrow; but come without hope, mind. A
woman who has been through what I have can trust herself. Do you
know that I am a Catholic?"
"No."
"I am. Would you turn Catholic if I were to marry you?"
God forgive poor Hornby! He said, "Yes." What will not men say at
such times?
"Did I not say you were a madman? Do you think I would ruin you in
the next world, as well as in this? Go away, sir; and, when your
children are round you, humbly bless God's mercy for saving you,
body and soul, this night."
"I shall see you again?"
"Come here the day after to-morrow; but come without hope."
She passed through the door, and left him standing alone. Charles
rose from his lair, and, coming up to him, laid his hand on his
shoulder.
"You have heard all this," said poor Hornby.
"Every word," said Charles. "I had a right to listen, you know. She is
my sister."
"Your sister?"
Then Charles told him all. Hornby had heard enough from Lord
Welter to understand it.
"Your sister! Can you help me, Horton? Surely she will hear reason
from you. Will you persuade her to listen to me?"
"No," said Charles. "She was right. You are mad. I will not help you
do an act which you would bitterly repent all your life. You must
forget her. She and I are disgraced, and must get away somewhere,
and hide our shame together."
What Hornby would have answered, no man can tell; for at this
moment Adelaide came out of the room, and passed quickly across
the hall, saying good night to him as she passed. She did not
recognise Charles, or seem surprised at seeing Hornby talking to his
groom. Nobody who had lived in Lord Welter's house a day or two
was surprised at anything.
But Charles, speaking to Hornby more as if he were master than
servant, said, "Wait here;" and, stepping quickly from him, went into
the room where Lord Welter sat alone, and shut the door. Hornby
heard it locked behind him, and waited in the hall, listening
intensely, for what was to follow.
"There'll be a row directly," said Hornby to himself; "and that
chivalrous fool, Charles, has locked himself in. I wish Welter did not
send all his servants out of the house at night. There'll be murder
done here some day."
He listened and heard voices, low as yet—so low that he could hear
the dripping of the rain outside. Drip—drip! The suspense was
intolerable. When would they be at one another's throats?
 CHAPTER XXXIX.
CHARLES'S EXPLANATION WITH LORD
WELTER.
There is a particular kind of Ghost, or Devil, which is represented by
an isosceles triangle (more or less correctly drawn) for the body;
straight lines turned up at the ends for legs; straight lines divided
into five at the ends for arms; a round O, with arbitrary dots for the
features, for a head; with a hat, an umbrella, and a pipe. Drawn like
this, it is a sufficiently terrible object. But, if you take an ace of
clubs, make the club represent the head, add horns, and fill in the
body and limbs as above, in deep black, with the feather end of the
pen, it becomes simply appalling, and will strike terror into the
stoutest heart.
Is this the place, say you, for talking such nonsense as this; If you
must give us balderdash of this sort, could not you do so in a
chapter with a less terrible heading than this one has? And I answer,
Why not let me tell my story my own way? Something depends even
on this nonsense of making devils out of the ace of clubs.
It was rather a favourite amusement of Charles's and Lord Welter's,
in old times at Ranford. They used, on rainy afternoon's, to collect all
the old aces of clubs (and there were always plenty of them to be
had in that house, God help it), and make devils out of them, each
one worse than the first. And now, when Charles had locked the
door, and advanced softly up to Welter, he saw, over his shoulder,
that he had got an ace of clubs, and the pen and ink, and was
making a devil.
It was a trifling circumstance enough, perhaps; but there was
enough of old times in it to alter the tone in which Charles said,
"Welter," as he laid his hand on his shoulder.
Lord Welter was a bully; but he was as brave as a lion, with nerves
of steel. He neither left off his drawing, nor looked up; he only said
—"Charley, boy, come and sit down till I have finished this fellow.
Get an ace of clubs and try your own hand. I am out of practice."
Perhaps even Lord Welter might have started when he heard
Charles's voice, and felt his hand on his shoulder; but he had had
one instant—only one instant—of preparation. When he heard the
key turn in the door, he had looked in a pier-glass opposite to him,
and seen who and what was coming, and then gone on with his
employment. Even allowing for this moment's preparation, we must
give him credit for the nerve of one man in ten thousand; for the
apparition of Charles Ravenshoe was as unlooked-for as that of any
one of Charles Ravenshoe's remote ancestors.
You see, I call him Charles Ravenshoe still. It is a trick. You must
excuse it.
Charles did not sit down and draw devils; he said, in a quiet,
mournful tone,
"Welter, Welter, why have you been such a villain?"
Lord Welter found that a difficult question to answer. He let it alone,
and said nothing.
"I say nothing about Adelaide. You did not use me well there; for,
when you persuaded her to go off with you, you had not heard of
my ruin."
"On my soul, Charles, there was not much persuasion wanted
there."
"Very likely. I do not want to speak about that, but about Ellen, my
sister. Was anything ever done more shamefully than that?"
Charles expected some furious outbreak when he said that. None
came. What was good in Lord Welter came to the surface, when he
saw his old friend and playmate there before him, sunk so far below
him in all that this world considers worth having, but rising so far
above him in his fearless honour and manliness. He was humbled,
sorry, and ashamed. Bitter as Charles's words were, he felt they
were true, and had manhood enough left not to resent them. To the
sensation of fear, as I have said before, Lord Welter was a total
stranger, or he might have been nervous at being locked up in a
room alone, with a desperate man, physically his equal, whom he
had so shamefully wronged. He rose and leant against the chimney-
piece, looking at Charles.
"I did not know she was your sister, Charles. You must do me that
justice."
"Of course you did not. If——"
"I know what you are going to say—that I should not have dared.
On my soul, Charles, I don't know; I believe I dare do anything. But
I tell you one thing—of all the men who walk this earth, you are the
last I would willingly wrong. When I went off with Adelaide, I knew
she did not care sixpence for you. I knew she would have made you
wretched. I knew better than you, because I never was in love with
her, and you were, what a heartless ambitious jade it was! She sold
herself to me for the title I gave her, as she had tried to sell herself
to that solemn prig Hainault, before. And I bought her, because a
handsome, witty, clever wife is a valuable chattel to a man like me,
who has to live by his wits."
"Ellen was as handsome and as clever as she. Why did not you
marry her?" said Charles, bitterly.
"If you will have the real truth, Ellen would have been Lady Welter
now, but——"
Lord Welter hesitated. He was a great rascal, and he had a brazen
front, but he found a difficulty in going on. It must be, I should
fancy, very hard work to tell all the little ins and outs of a piece of
villainy one has been engaged in, and to tell, as Lord Welter did on
this occasion, the exact truth.
"I am waiting," said Charles, "to hear you tell me why she was not
made Lady Welter."
"What, you will have it, then? Well, she was too scrupulous. She was
too honourable a woman for this line of business. She wouldn't play,
or learn to play—d—n it, sir, you have got the whole truth now, if
that will content you."
"I believe what you say, my lord. Do you know that Lieutenant
Hornby made her an offer of marriage to-night?"
"I supposed he would," said Lord Welter.
"And that she has refused him?"
"I guessed that she would. She is your own sister. Shall you try to
persuade her?"
"I would see her in her coffin first."
"So I suppose."
"She must come away from here, Lord Welter. I must keep her and
do what I can for her. We must pull through it together, somehow."
"She had better go from here. She is too good for this hole. I must
make provision for her to live with you."
"Not one halfpenny, my lord. She has lived too long in dependence
and disgrace already. We will pull through together alone."
Lord Welter said nothing, but he determined that Charles should not
have his way in this respect.
Charles continued, "When I came into this room to-night I came to
quarrel with you. You have not allowed me to do so, and I thank you
for it." Here he paused, and then went on in a lower voice, "I think
you are sorry, Welter; are you not? I am sure you are sorry. I am
sure you wouldn't have done it if you had foreseen the
consequences, eh?"
Lord Welter's coarse under-lip shook for half a second, and his big
chest heaved once; but he said nothing.
"Only think another time; that is all. Now do me a favour; make me
a promise."
"I have made it."
"Don't tell any human soul you have seen me. If you do, you will
only entail a new disguise and a new hiding on me. You have
promised."
"On my honour."
"If you keep your promise I can stay where I am. How is—Lady
Ascot?"
"Well. Nursing my father."
"Is he ill?"
"Had a fit the day before yesterday. I heard this morning from them.
He is much better, and will get over it."
"Have you heard anything from Ravenshoe?"
"Not a word. Lord Saltire and General Mainwaring are both with my
father, in London. Grandma won't see either me or Adelaide. Do you
know that she has been moving heaven and earth to find you?"
"Good soul! I won't be found, though. Now, good-night!"
And he went. If any one had told him three months before that he
would have been locked in the same room with a man who had
done him such irreparable injury, and have left it at the end of half
an hour with a quiet "good-night," he would most likely have beaten
that man there and then. But he was getting tamed very fast. Ay, he
was already getting more than tamed; he was in a fair way to get
broken-hearted.
"I will not see her to-night, sir," he said to Hornby, whom he found
with his head resting on the table; "I will come to-morrow, and
prepare her for leaving this house. You are to see her the day after
to-morrow; but without hope, remember."
He roused a groom from above the stable to help him to saddle the
horses. "Will it soon be morning?" he asked.
"Morning," said the lad; "it's not twelve o'clock yet. It's a dark night,
mate, and no moon. But the nights are short now. The dawn will be
on us before we have time to turn in our beds."
He rode slowly home after Hornby. "The night is dark, but the dawn
will be upon us before we can turn in our beds!" Only the idle words
of a sleepy groom, yet they echoed in his ears all the way home.
The night is dark indeed; but it will be darker yet before the dawn,
Charles Ravenshoe.
 CHAPTER XL.
A DINNER PARTY AMONG SOME OLD
FRIENDS.
Lady Hainault (née Burton, not the Dowager) had asked some one
to dinner, and the question had been whom to ask to meet him.
Mary had been called into consultation, as she generally was on
most occasions, and she and Lady Hainault had made up a list
together. Every one had accepted, and was coming; and here were
Mary and Lady Hainault dressed for dinner, alone in the drawing-
room with the children.
"We could not have done better for him, Mary, I think. You must go
in to dinner with him."
"Is Mary going to stop down to dinner?" said the youngest boy;
"what a shame! I sha'n't say my prayers to-night if she don't come
up."
The straightforward Gus let his brother know what would be the
consequences of such neglect hereafter, in a plain-spoken way
peculiarly his own.
"Gus! Gus! don't say such things," said Lady Hainault.
"The hymn-book says so, aunt," said Gus, triumphantly; and he
quoted a charming little verse of Dr. Watts's, beginning, "There is a
dreadful Hell."
Lady Hainault might have been puzzled what to say, and Mary would
not have helped her, for they had had an argument about that same
hymn-book (Mary contending that one or two of the hymns were as
well left alone at first), when Flora struck in and saved her aunt, by
remarking.
"I shall save up my money and buy some jewels for Mary like aunt's,
so that when she stays down to dinner some of the men may fall in
love with her, and marry her."
"Pooh! you silly goose," said Gus, "those jewels cost sixty million
thousand pounds a-piece. I don't want her to be married till I grow
up, and then I shall marry her myself. Till then, I shall buy her a
yellow wig, like grandma Hainault's, and then nobody will want to
marry her."
"Be quiet, Gus," said Lady Hainault.
It was one thing to say "be quiet Gus," and it was another thing to
make him hold his tongue. But, to do Gus justice, he was a good
fellow, and never acted "enfant terrible" but to the most select and
private audience. Now he had begun: "I wish some one would marry
grandma," when the door was thrown open, the first guest was
announced, and Gus was dumb.
"General Mainwaring." The general sat down between Lady Hainault
and Mary, and, while talking to them, reached out his broad brown
hand and lifted the youngest boy on his knee, who played with his
ribands, and cried out that he would have the orange and blue one,
if he pleased; while Gus and Flora came and stood at his knee.
He talked to them both sadly in a low voice about the ruin which had
come on Lord Ascot. There was worse than mere ruin, he feared. He
feared there was disgrace. He had been with him that morning. He
was a wreck. One side of his face was sadly pulled down, and he
stammered in his speech. He would get over it. He was only three-
and-forty. But he would not show again in society, he feared. Here
was somebody else; they would change the subject.
Lord Saltire. They were so glad to see him. Every one's face had a
kind smile on it as the old man came and sat down among them. His
own smile was not the least pleasant of the lot, I warrant you.
"So you are talking about poor Ascot, eh?" he said. "I don't know
whether you were or not; but, if you were, let us talk about
something else. You see, my dear Miss Corby, that my prophecy to
you on the terrace at Ravenshoe is falsified. I said they would not
fight, and lo, they are as good as at it."
They talked about the coming war, and Lord Hainault came in and
joined them. Soon after, another guest was announced.
Lady Ascot. She was dressed in dark grey silk, with her white hair
simply parted under a plain lace cap. She looked so calm, so brave,
so kind, so beautiful, as she came with firm strong step in at the
door, that they one and all rose and came towards her. She had
always been loved by them all; how much more deeply was she
loved now, when her bitter troubles had made her doubly sacred!
Lord Saltire gave her his arm, and she came and sat down among
them with her hands calmly folded before her. "I was determined to
come and see you to-night, my dear," she said. "I should break
down if I couldn't see some that I loved. And to-night, in particular"
(she looked earnestly at Lord Saltire). "Is he come yet?"
"Not yet, dear grandma," said Mary.
"No one is coming besides, I suppose?" asked Lady Ascot.
"No one; we are waiting for him."
The door was opened once more, and they all looked curiously
round. This time the servant announced, perhaps in a somewhat
louder tone than usual, as if he were aware that they were more
interested,
"Mr. Ravenshoe."
A well-dressed, gentlemanly-looking man came into the room,
bearing such a wonderful likeness to Charles Ravenshoe, that Lady
Hainault and General Mainwaring, the only two who had never seen
him before, started, and thought they saw Charles himself. It was
not Charles, though; it was our old friend whilom pad-groom to
Charles Ravenshoe, Esquire, now himself William Ravenshoe,
Esquire, of Ravenshoe.
He was the guest of the evening. He would be heir to Ravenshoe
himself some day; for they had made up their minds that Cuthbert
would never marry. Ravenshoe, as Cuthbert was managing it now,
would be worth ten or twelve thousand a year, and, if these new tin
lodes came to anything, perhaps twenty. He had been a stable-
helper, said old Lady Hainault—the companion of the drunken riots
of his foster-brother impostor, and that quiet gentlemanly creature
Welter. If he entered the house, she left it. To which young Lady
Hainault had replied that some one must ask him to dinner in
common decency, if it was only for the sake of that dear Charles,
who had been loved by every one who knew him. That she intended
to ask him to dinner, and that, if her dear mother-in-law objected to
meet him, why the remedy lay with herself. Somebody must
introduce him to some sort of society; and Lord Hainault and herself
had made up their minds to do it, so that further argument on the
subject would be wasted breath. To which the Dowager replied that
she really wished, after all, that Hainault had married that pretty chit
of a thing, Adelaide Summers, as he was thinking of doing; as she,
the Dowager, could not have been treated with greater insolence
even by her, bold as she was. With which Parthian piece of spite she
had departed to Casterton with Miss Hicks, and had so goaded and
snapped at that unfortunate reduced gentlewoman by the way, that
at last Hicks, as her wont was, had turned upon her and given her
as good as she brought. If the Dowager could have heard Lady
Hainault telling her lord the whole business that night, and joking
with him about his alleged penchant for Adelaide, and heard the jolly
laugh that those two good souls had about it, her ladyship would
have been more spiteful still.
But, nevertheless, Lady Hainault was very nervous about William.
When Mary was consulted, she promptly went bail for his good
behaviour, and pled his case so warmly, that the tears stood in her
eyes. Her old friend William! What innocent plots she and he had
hatched together against the priest in the old times. What a bond
there was between them in their mutual love for him who was lost to
them.
But Lady Hainault would be on the safe side; and so only the party
named above were asked. All old friends of the family.
Before dinner was announced, they were all at their ease about him.
He was shy, certainly, but not awkward. He evidently knew that he
was asked there on trial, and he accepted his position. But he was
so handsome (handsomer than poor Charles), he was so gentle and
modest, and—perhaps, too, not least—had such a well-modulated
voice, that, before the evening was over, he had won every one in
the room. If he knew anything of a subject, he helped the
conversation quietly, as well as he could; if he had to confess
ignorance (which was seldom, for he was among well-bred people),
he did so frankly, but unobtrusively. He was a great success.
One thing puzzled him, and pleased him. He knew that he was a
person of importance, and that he was the guest of the evening. But
he soon found that there was another cause for his being interesting
to them all, more powerful than his curious position, or his
prospective wealth; and that was his connection with Charles
Ravenshoe, now Horton. He was the hero of the evening. Half
William's light was borrowed from him. He quickly became aware of
it, and it made him happy.
How strange it is that some men have the power of winning such
love from all they meet. I knew one, gone from us now by a glorious
death, who had that faculty. Only a few knew his great worth and
goodness; and yet, as his biographer most truly says, those who
once saw his face never forgot it. Charles Ravenshoe had that
faculty also, though, alas! his value, both in worth and utility, was far
inferior to that of the man to whom I have alluded above.[3] But he
had the same infinite kindness towards everything created; which is
part of the secret.
The first hint that William had, as to how deeply important a person
Charles was among the present company, was given him at dinner.
Various subjects had been talked of indifferently, and William had
listened, till Lord Hainault said to William—
"What a strange price people are giving for cobs! I saw one sold to-
day at Tattersall's for ninety guineas."
William answered, "Good cobs are very hard to get, Lord Hainault. I
could get you ten good horses, over fifteen, for one good cob."
Lord Saltire said, "My cob is the best I ever had; and a sweet-
tempered creature. Our dear boy broke it for me at Ravenshoe."
"Dear Charles," said Lady Ascot. "What a splendid rider he was! Dear
boy! He got Ascot to write him a certificate about that sort of thing,
before he went away. Ah, dear!"
"I never thought," said Lord Saltire, quietly, "that I ever should have
cared half as much for anybody as I do for that lad. Do you
remember, Mainwaring," he continued, speaking still lower, while
they all sat hushed, "the first night I ever saw him, when he marked
for you and me at billiards, at Ranford? I don't know why, but I
loved the boy from the first moment I saw him. Both there and ever
afterwards, he reminded me so strongly of Barkham. He had just the
same gentle, winning way with him that Barkham had. Barkham was
a little taller, though, I fancy," he went on, looking straight at Lady
Ascot, and taking snuff. "Don't you think so, Maria?"
No one spoke for a moment.
Lord Barkham had been Lord Saltire's only son. He had been killed in
a duel at nineteen, as I have mentioned before. Lord Saltire very
rarely spoke of him, and, when he did, generally in a cynical manner.
But General Mainwaring and Lady Ascot knew that the memory of
that poor boy was as fresh in the true old heart, after forty years, as
it was on the morning when he came out from his dressing-room,
and met them carrying his corpse upstairs.
"He was a good fellow," said Lord Hainault, alluding to Charles. "He
was a very good fellow."
"This great disappointment which I have had about him," said Lord
Saltire, in his own dry tone, "is a just judgment on me for doing a
good-natured and virtuous action many years ago. When his poor
father Densil was in prison, I went to see him, and reconciled him
with his family. Poor Densil was so grateful for this act of folly on my
part, that I grew personally attached to him; and hence all this
misery. Disinterested actions are great mistakes, Maria, depend upon
it."
When the ladies were gone upstairs, William found Lord Saltire
beside him. He talked to him a little time, and then finished by
saying—
"You are modest and gentlemanly, and the love you bear for your
foster-brother is very pleasing to me indeed. I am going to put it to
the test. You must come and see me to-morrow morning. I have a
great deal to say to you."
"About him, my lord? Have you heard of him?"
"Not a word. I fear he has gone to America or Australia. He told Lord
Ascot he should do so."
"I'll hunt him to the world's end, my lord," said true William. "And
Cuthbert shall pray for me the while. I fear you are right. But we
shall find him soon."
When they went up into the drawing-room, Mary was sitting on a
sofa by herself. She looked up to William, and he went and sat down
by her. They were quite away from the rest, together.
"Dear William," said Mary, looking frankly at him, and laying her
hand on his.
"I am so glad," said William, "to see your sweet face again. I was
down at Ravenshoe last week. How they love you there! An idea
prevails among old and young that dear Cuthbert is to die, and that
I am to marry you, and that we are to rule Ravenshoe triumphantly.
It was useless to represent to them that Cuthbert would not die, and
that you and I most certainly never would marry one another. My
dearest Jane Evans was treated as a thing of nought. You were
elected mistress of Ravenshoe unanimously."
"How is Jane?"
"Pining, poor dear, at her school. She don't like it."
"I should think not," said Mary. "Give my dear love to her. She will
make you a good wife. How is Cuthbert?"
"Very well in health. No more signs of his heart complaint, which
never existed. But he is peaking at getting no tidings from Charles.
Ah, how he loved him! May I call you 'Mary'?"
"You must not dare to call me anything else. No tidings of him yet?"
"None. I feel sure he is gone to America. We will get him back, Mary.
Never fear."
They talked till she was cheerful, and at last she said—
"William, you were always so well-mannered; but how—how—have
you got to be so gentlemanly in so short a time?"
"By playing at it," said William, laughing. "The stud-groom at
Ravenshoe used always to say I was too much of a gentleman for
him. In twenty years' time I shall pass muster in a crowd. Good-
night."
And Charles was playing at being something other than a gentleman
all the time. We shall see who did best in the end.
 CHAPTER XLI.
CHARLES'S SECOND EXPEDITION TO ST.
JOHN'S WOOD.
What a happy place a man's bed is—probably the best place in
which he ever finds himself. Very few people will like to deny that, I
think; that is to say, as a general rule. After a long day's shooting in
cold weather, for instance; or half a night on deck among the ice,
when the fog has lifted, and the ghastly cold walls are safe in sight;
or after a fifty mile ride in the bush, under a pouring rain; or after a
pleasant ball, when you have to pull down the blind, that the
impudent sun may not roast you awake in two hours; for in all these
cases, and a hundred more, bed is very pleasant; but you know as
well as I do, that there are times when you would sooner be on a
frozen deck, or in the wildest bush in the worst weather, or waltzing
in the hall of Eblis with Vathek's mama, or almost in your very grave,
than in bed and awake.
Oh, the weary watches! when the soul, which in sleep would leave
the tortured body to rest and ramble off in dreams, holds on by a
mere thread, yet a thread strong enough to keep every nerve in
tense agony. When one's waking dreams of the past are as vivid as
those of sleep, and there is always present, through all, the dreadful
lurking thought that one is awake, and that it is all real. When,
looking back, every kindly impulsive action, every heartily spoken
word, makes you fancy that you have only earned contempt where
you merit kindness. When the past looks like a hell of missed
opportunities, and the future like another black hopeless hell of
uncertainty and imminent misfortune of all kinds! Oh, weary
watches! Let us be at such times on the bleakest hill-side, in the
coldest night that ever blew, rather than in the warmest bed that
money will buy.
When you are going to have a night of this kind, you seldom know it
beforehand, for certain. Sometimes, if you have had much
experience in the sort of thing—if you have lost money, or gone in
debt, or if your sweetheart has cut you very often—you may at least
guess, before you get your boots off, that you are going to have a
night of it; in which case, read yourself to sleep in bed. Never mind
burning the house down (that would be rather desirable as a
distraction from thought); but don't read till you are sleepy with your
clothes on, and then undress, because, if you do, you will find, by
the time you have undressed yourself, that you are terribly wide
awake, and, when the candle is blown out, you will be all ready for a
regular Walpurgis night.
Charles, poor lad, had not as yet had much experience of Walpurgis
nights. Before his catastrophe he had never had one. He had been
used to tumble tired into his bed, and sleep a heavy dreamless sleep
till an hour before waking. Then, indeed, he might begin to dream of
his horses, and his dogs, and so on, and then gradually wake into a
state more sweet than the sweetest dream—that state in which
sense is awake to all outward objects, but in which the soul is taking
its few last airy flutters round its home, before coming to rest for the
day. But, even since then, he had not had experience enough to
make him dread the night. The night he came home from St. John's
Wood, he thought he would go to bed and sleep it off. Poor fellow!
A fellow-servant slept in the same room with him—the younger and
better tempered of the two (though Charles had no complaint
against either of them). The lad was asleep; and, before Charles put
out the light, he looked at him. His cheek was laid on his arm, and
he seemed so calm and happy that Charles knew that he was not
there, but far away. He was right. As he looked the lad smiled, and
babbled out something in his dream. Strange! the soul had still
sufficient connection with the body to make it smile.
"I wonder if Miss Martineau or Mr. Atkinson ever watched the face of
one who slept and dreamt," said Charles, rambling on as soon as he
had got into bed. "Pish! why that fellow's body is the mere tool of
his soul. His soul is out a-walking, and his body is only a log. Hey,
that won't do; that's as bad as Miss Martineau. I should have said
that his body is only a fine piece of clockwork. But clockwork don't
smile of itself. My dear Madam, and Mr. Atkinson, I am going to
leave my body behind, and be off to Ravenshoe in five minutes. That
is to say, I am going to sleep."
He was, was he? Why no, not just at present. If he had meant to do
so, he had, perhaps, better not have bothered himself about "Letters
on the laws of man's nature"; for, when he had done his profound
cogitations about them, as above, he thought he had got a——well,
say a pulex in his bed. There was no more a pulex than there was a
scorpion; but he had an exciting chase after an imaginary one, like
our old friend Mr. Sponge after an imaginary fox at Laverick Wells.
After this, he had an irritation where he couldn't reach, that is to say,
in the middle of his back: then he had the same complaint where he
could reach, and used a certain remedy (which is a pretty way of
saying that he scratched himself); then he had the cramp in his right
leg; then he had the cramp in his left leg; then he grew hot all over,
and threw the clothes off; then he grew cold all over, and pulled
them on again; then he had the cramp in his left leg again; then he
had another flea hunt, cramp, irritation in back, heat, cold, and so
on, all over; and then, after half an hour, finding himself in a state of
feverish despondency, he fell into a cheerful train of thought, and
was quite inclined to look at his already pleasant prospects from a
hopeful point of view.
Poor dear fellow! You may say that it is heartless to make fun of him
just now, when everything is going so terribly wrong. But really my
story is so very sad, that we must try to make a little feeble fun
where we can, or it would be unreadable.
He tried to face the future, manfully. But lo! there was no future to
face—it was all such a dead, hopeless blank. Ellen must come away
from that house, and he must support her; but how? It would be
dishonourable for him to come upon the Ravenshoes for a farthing;
and it would be dishonourable for her to marry that foolish Hornby.
And these two courses, being dishonourable, were impossible. And
there he was brought up short.
But would either course be dishonourable? Yes, yes, was the answer
each weary time he put the question to himself; and there the
matter ended. Was there one soul in the wide world he could
consult? Not one. All alone in the weary world, he and she. Not one
friend for either of them. They had made their beds, and must lie on
them. When would the end of it all come? What would the end be?
There was a noise in the street. A noise of a woman scolding, whose
voice got louder and louder, till it rose into a scream. A noise of a
man cursing and abusing her; then a louder scream, and a sound of
blows. One, two, then a heavy fall, and silence. A drunken, homeless
couple had fallen out in the street, and the man had knocked the
woman down. That was all. It was very common. Probably the
woman was not much hurt. That sort of woman got used to it. The
police would come and take them to the station. There they were.
The man and woman were being taken off by two constables,
scolding and swearing. Well, well!
Was it to come to that? There were bridges in London, and under
them runs the river. Charles had come over one once, after
midnight. He wished he had never seen the cursed place. He
remembered a fluttering figure which had come and begged a
halfpenny of him to pay the toll and get home. He had given her
money, and then, by a sudden impulse, followed her till she was safe
off the bridge. Ugly thoughts, Charles! ugly thoughts! Will the dawn
never come? Why, the night is not half over yet.
God in His mercy sets a limit to human misery in many ways. I do
not believe that the condemned man, waiting through the weary
night for the gallows, thinks all night through of his fate. We read
generally in those accounts of the terrible last night (which are so
rightly published in the newspapers—they are the most terrifying
part of the punishment), that they conversed cheerfully, or slept, or
did something, showing that they half forgot for a time what was
coming. And so, before the little window grew to a lighter grey, poor
Charles had found some relief from his misery. He was between
sleep and waking, and he had fulfilled his challenge to Miss
Martineau, though later than he intended. He had gone to
Ravenshoe.
There it was, all before him. The dawn behind the eastern headland
had flooded the amphitheatre of hills, till the crags behind the house
had turned from grey to gold, and the vane upon the priest's tower
shone like a star. The sea had changed from black to purple, and the
fishing-boats were stealing lazily homewards, over the gentle rolling
ground-swell. The surf was whispering to the sand of their coming.
As window after window blazed out before the sun, and as woodland
and hill-side, stream and park, village and lonely farm in the distant
valley, waked before the coming day, Charles watched, in his mind's
eye, the dark old porch, till there came out a figure in black, and
stood solitary in the terrace gazing seawards. And as he said,
"Cuthbert," he fell into a dreamless, happy sleep.
He determined that he would not go to see Ellen till the afternoon.
Hornby was on duty in the morning, and never saw Charles all day;
he avoided him as though on purpose. Charles, on his part, did not
want to meet him till he had made some definite arrangement, and
so was glad of it. But, towards two o'clock, it came across his mind
that he would saunter round to St. Peter's Church, and see the
comical little imp of a boy who was generally to be found there, and
beguile a quarter of an hour by listening to his prattle.
He had given up reading. He had hardly opened a book since his
misfortune. This may seem an odd thing to have to record about a
gentleman, and to a certain extent a scholar; but so it was. He
wanted to lower himself, and he was beginning to succeed. There
was an essential honesty in him, which made him hate to appear
what he was not; and this feeling, carried to an absurd extent,
prevented his taking refuge in the most obvious remedy for all
troubles except hunger—books. He did not know, as I do, that
determined reading—reading of anything, even the advertisements
in a newspaper—will stop all cravings except those of the stomach,
and will even soften them; but he guessed it, nevertheless. "Why
should I read?" said he. "I must learn to do as the rest of them."
And so he did as the rest of them, and "rather loafed away his time
than otherwise."
And he was more inclined to "loaf" than usual this day, because he
very much dreaded what was to come. And so he dawdled round to
St. Peter's Church, and came upon his young friend, playing at fives
with the ball he had given him, as energetically as he had before
played with the brass button. Shoeblacks are compelled to a great
deal of unavoidable "loafing;" but certainly this one loafed rather
energetically, for he was hot and frantic in his play.
He was very glad to see Charles. He parted his matted hair from his
face, and looked at him admiringly with a pleasant smile; then he
suddenly said—
"You was drunk last night, worn't you?"
Charles said, No—that he never got drunk.
"Worn't you really, though?" said the boy; "you look as tho' you had
a been. You looks wild about the eyes;" and then he hazarded
another theory to account for Charles's appearance, which Charles
also negatived emphatically.
"I gave a halpenny for this one," said the boy, showing him the ball,
"and I spent the other halpenny." Here he paused, expecting a
rebuke, apparently; but Charles nodded kindly at him, and he was
encouraged to go on, and to communicate a piece of intelligence
with the air of one who assumes that his hearer is au fait with all the
movements of the great world, and will be interested.
"Old Biddy Flanigan's dead."
"No! is she?" said Charles, who, of course, had not the wildest idea
who she was, but guessed her to be an aged, and probably a
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