The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1887-03-05 00:00:00

THE STOURBRIDGE OBSERVER.

these Worus, dating forth the duties he intended to
exact of her, but her young heart throbbed with com-
passion for the terrible wreck before her, and she did
not recoil from the new path into which she had so
wilfully thrust herself.
"Arise, Adrienne," said M. Lecour, "and endeavour
to make yoarself of some use. Bring forward yonder
table, and place it before the prince."
Thus commanded, Adrienne lifted a small carved
stand, and brought it to the place indicated by M.
Lecour. It was then covered with a white napkin,
and several silver dishes filled with dried fruits,
cakes, and nuts, placed upon it.
The prince eyed them ravenously, and scarcely
waited for the dishes to be placed within hi a reach
before he thrust both hands into them and began to
devour their contents like one half famished.

M. Lecour stood respectfully in waiting, holding his
wand in his hand; but the cynical smile with which
he surveyed the scene revealed what was passing
within him. It plainly said—
" Behold the descendant of the haughtiest line of kings
that Europe has ever known munching his food with
the appetite of a brute—with no regard to forms—in-
tent only on satisfying his hunger; wbile I, a man of
the peopte, offer him the mockery of kingly homage,
that I may glcat over his imbecile lack of all that
dignifies man as man. Ah! is not this a triumph for
a sans culotte 1"

Penetrated with shame and pity at this humiliating
scene, Adrienne east her eyes upon the floor, and stood
silently before him, while Eady looked on in mute as-
atoni shrnent that the daring of theyoung girl had brought
no worse punishment than a few rough words from
the stern master of the house.

Louis devoured the whole of the lunch set before
him, except one slice of candied citron. He placed
this upon the fork he had not used, and offered it to
Adrienne.

"Here—take this from my hand, my pretty com-
tesse and do not come again in that ugly dress.
Take from my coffers the means to get nicer ones,
and come hither in robes of state suited to your new
rank. A king can confer titles, and you are now one
of my court."
Adrienne accepted the citron, and pretended to
taste it, but she thrust it in the sleeve of her dress. M.
Lecour sharply said—
"Why do you not return thanks to his Majesty for
the distinction he has conferred on you, and promise
to obey his commands? Kneel, ungrateful girl, and
kiss the hand that bestows such honours.'

Louis smiled approvingly, and Adrienne felt com-
pelled to play her part in the royal farce, or arouse the
anger of her grandfather. She bent her lithe form,
and bowed her head over the c'ammy hand that was
extended toward her with an air of condescension she
could not help feeling to be absurd. M. Lecour,
however, looked as if perfectly in earnest, and she
went through with what was required of her, at least
with a sh)w of outward respect for the phantastic
clams this poor dependent had been taught to con-
sider real.

Louis threw himself back on his seat, yawned por-
tentiously, and said, with pompous gravity—
" And now, my lieges, you are dismissed while I take
my siesta. Madame la Marquise, see that I have an
abundant and appetising dinner; a superb dinner,
with wine—yes, yes, but not red wine. I cannot bear
to see it bubble out like the blood that was shed in
those days when Simon held me and forced me to look
on while—oh-h, horror!" and with a convulsive
shudder he fell back in a species of cataleptic fit, as
the memory of those awful days returned to him.
Adrienne impulsively sprang forward, caught the
sinking head. and kept it from falling until M. Lecour
lifted him with the assistance of Eady, and placed
him upon the couch. She then Eaw that his limbs
fell quite powerless, and understood how it had been
possible to keep him in his prison without a chance of
escape. .

The young girl tenderly bathed his poor face with
cold water, and he presently revived sufficiently to
say
"I need sleep, my lieges—sleep will rest Ore us.
Leave us now that we may be ready for the dinner
as soon as it is served. An revoir. Madame Is Comtesse,
I command you to appear at my table in suitable
attire; for the present adieu:'
He waved his hand, and, bowing respectfully, the
three thus dismissed retired, stepping backward to-
wards the door with all the outward ceremony that
would have been observed had the poor actor really
enjoyed the rank to which he was born.

(To be continued.)

NATIONAL RIFLE ASSOCIATION.
(From a Tinzes correspondent.)
The observations made by the Duke of Cambridge
at the annual winter meeting of the National Rifle
Association on Thursday will, it is anticipated, cause
considerable excitement in volunteer circles. Yet the
intelligence conveyed in those observations was of
such a cnaracter that it must have been expected
even by the rank and file of volunteers for some con-
siderable period of time. It has long been known
that the inhabitants of the annual site of Wimbledon
Camp have not regarded with entirely favourable eves
the periodical assembly of the select rifle-shots. of
England with its accidental accompaniments. This
disfavour has, it must be confessed, not been entirely
without justification, and it may well be under-
stood that the inhabitants of the neighbourhood J
in question have serious ground for com-
plaint. Whether these persons might not have
been well-advised, from the point of view which
patriotic people would naturally adopt, if they had
come to the conclusion that their private convenience
was not worthy of consideration in comparison with
the public benefits which are undoubtedly conferred
by the annual meeting, is a matter which it is not
necessary to discuss now. The period of such discus-
sion is past and gone since the complaint has been
alreaay lodged and the Council of the National Ride
Association have almost if not entirely decided that
it must be acted upon with as little delay as may be.
The particular form which the complaint has taken
may be suspected of a slight savour of artifice. Nothing
appears to have been said of the social effects of
the camp. It is not suggested openly that the annual
congregation of rifle-shots and visitors disturbs the
even tenour of life at Putney and in the neighbour-
hood; not a word is said of the little social eccentri-
cities which are occasionally laid to the charge of
Wimbledon Camp. The whole argument against the
existence of the camp is based upon the theory of
danger. Owners of property behind the butts having
heard that it was proposed to expend money upon the
butts with the view of protecting the property behind
the butts seem to have protested that the one way of
safety was to remove the butts altogether. They
wi re unaware of the proposal until a comparatively
recent date; as soon as they heard of it tnet- urged
their claims to be relieved in tote from the incubus
of the camp. It becomes therefore a matter of some
interest to inquire whether the real ground of re-
monstrance was an apprehension of danger, or whether
an apprehension of danger was not fikitiously created
in orler to obtain an object desired upon other grounds.
Now, there is no doubt, as the Duke of Cambridge
observed, that the power of the rifle is continually in-
creasing, and that it constantly tends to become a
dangerous weapon at greater distances than formerly.
Therefore, said the Duke of Cambridge, the position
of the owners of property behind the butts becomes
more and more alarming ev, ry year. It is also true
that there must in the nature of things be a certain
amount of carelessness in the handling of firearms,
whether in the hands of Volunteers or others.
On the other hand, it is well worthy of con-
sideration that in proportion to the increase of
power is not only the development of precision,
but also the tendency to a low trajectory; that the
precautions taken to prevent carelessness in the
handling of loaded arms at Wimbledon are extreme;
and that accidents of any kind are extremely rare.
The fact of the matter seems to be that the owners of
property behind the butts are resolved not to hear
argument. Nothing in truth frightened them so much
as the suggestion that the National Rifle Association
should spend money with the object of giving greater
safety to the property which was supposed to be
threatened. They were more alarmed at the prospect
of being made safe than by their former belief that
the butte would be allowed to remain in their present
condition. If the butts had been made safe they could
not have been rid of the meeting, and a survey of
their conduct loads to a not unnatural suspicion that
relief from the meeting was a first object and freedom
from danger purely second.&ry.
Be that as it may, it is tolerably clear that Wiin-
bledon Camp is doomed, and the thought is one which
will fill many minds with regret. Whatever other
site may be chosen for the annual meeting—and it
may well be aupposed that the National Ride Associa-
tion wid not cease to flourish because Wimbledon-
common is denied to it as an arena—there must be
many pleasant associations connected with Wimbledon
Camp which cannot easily be created elsewhere. An
enclosure may be erected elsewhere, but it will contain
no Glen Albyn, and it will be difficult if not impos-
sible to find elsewhere a spot which shall be equally
picturesque and at the samo time equally commodious
for rifle shooting. Few things, indeed, are more re-
markable at Wimbledon than the manner in which
the surface of the common is fitted to the needs of
the association, and the consequent possibility of
carrying on a vast number of competitions simultane-
ously. Moreover, it has often been said that Wim-
bledon is conducted upon the lines of a vast garden
party, to which saying it might have been added
that the festivities were for the most part carried
on in complete defiance of atrocious weather, for
which Wimbledon is proverbial. Now it is not sug-
gested, and the writer would be the last person in the
world to argue, that the life in camp might not be
more earnest with advantage; but it must be remem-
bered, that the genuine social charms of Wimbledon
have had much to do with the popularity of the
meeting, and that the popularity of the meeting
cannot have been without influence upon its efficiency.
In other words, men will assemble more freely at a
place where there are potentialities of innocent enjoy-
ment of a social character than at a spot where they
are cut off from all society save that of their brothers
in arms. In all this it is not intended for a moment
to offer a word of excuse for the guilty pleasures of
which the camp has occasionally been suspected, but
rather to suggest that the prime danger to be appre-
hended of the camp of the future is that all work and
no play may tend to make "Jack a dull boy," and
consequently cause him to stay away.
On the other hand, it cannot be denied that the
scheme of a new camp presents infinite poten-
tialities of good from a military point of view. Over
and over again it has been urged, not only by
moralists pure and simple, but by those who had the
promotion of military efficiency fixed before them as
a principal object, that there was a deplorable lack of
, discipline at Wimbledon Camp. This fault has been
j due, not to the social gatherings to which reference
has been made, not to an influx of the friends of the
inhabitants of the tented city, but to the impossibility
of using any discretion as to the admission of visitors.
The disorder has come, in fact, not by reason of in-
vited visitors, but through those who cam.) without
invitation. Now it may be taken for granted that
wherever the annual meeting is held after it has been
removed from Wimbledon it will not be ,held
at a place so easily accessible from London. It
I may also be anticipated with some hope and confi-
dence that when the new site is fixed upon the Legis-
lature in the plenitude of its power will see fit to
confer upon the Council of the association authority
which shall render discipline and order possible.
With such authority the Council will be able to in-
crease very largely the educational value of the annual
meeting. Meanwhile it must be remembered that
the meeting is essentially an assembly of rifle-shots
and not purely military in its objects. The members
of the association are by no means all volunteers;
many tents are annually occupied by gentlemen who
make no pretensions to be attached to any military
system whatsoever. They are enthusiasts in rifle-shoot-
ing, and not soldiers in any sense. But it may be
assumed that the innocent pleasures of camp-life and
the opportunities of social intercourse made by the
beauty of the spot and its accessibility have exer-
cised much influence in turning men's attention to the
I pursuit to whichthey have afterwards become attached
with an almost passionate devotion. Will such men
be attracted by the meetings of the future? There
can be little question that they are men worth cherish-
ing, since, in the event of an internecine conflict, it is
clear that their skill would be beyond price. It would
be an infinite loss to the nation to be deprived of this
reserve force of skilled strength in the future, and it
can only be said that if the new camp proves to be so
devoid of attractions as to cause the number of these
true amateurs to be diminished in the future " the
owners of property behind the butts" will have a
heavy indictment to answer.