“The night of the inquiry?” echoed Lionel.
“The night of the inquiry—that is, the night of the accident,” returned Mr. Bourne. “She said she wished to confide a secret to me, which she had not liked to touch upon before, but which she could not leave the place without confiding to some one responsible, who might use it in case of need. The secret she proceeded to tell me was—that it was Frederick Massingbird who had been quarrelling with Rachel that night by the willow pool. She could swear it to me, she said, if necessary.”
“But—if that were true—why did she not say it at the time?” asked Lionel, after a pause.
“It was all she said. And she would not be questioned. ‘In case o’ need, sir, in case anybody else should ever be brought up for it, tell ’em that Dinah Roy asserted to you with her last breath in Deerham, that Mr. Fred Massingbird was the one that was with Rachel.’ Those were the words she used to me: I dotted them down after she left. As I tell you, she would not be questioned, and glided out again almost immediately.”
“Was she wandering in her mind?”
“I think not. She spoke with an air of truth. When I heard of the flight of the converts the next morning, I could only conclude that Mrs. Roy had intended to be amongst them. But now, understand me, Mr. Verner, although I have told you this, I have not mentioned it to another living soul. Neither do I intend to do so. It can do no good to reap up the sad tale: whether Frederick Massingbird was or was not with Rachel that night; whether he was in any way guilty, or was purely innocent, it boots not to inquire now.”
“It does not,” warmly replied Lionel. “You have done well. Let us bury Mrs. Roy’s story between us: and forget it, so far as we can.”
They parted. Lionel took his way to Deerham Court, absorbed in thought. His own strong impression had been, that Mr. Fred Massingbird was the black sheep, with regard to Rachel.
IVORY CARVING IN DIEPPE.
All English tourists visiting Boulogne, Caen, or Dieppe, are familiar with the ivory-carving,—brooches and other trinkets for the chimney-piece or for personal ornament, that fill the windows of every other shop you pass, along the quays and principal street. In Dieppe, however, the largest trade and the best carving are done; those at Boulogne and Caen are but offshoots—younger brothers of this fils ainé of Dieppe. This trade has been the source of money-making to Dieppe for generations; indeed the hardy fishermen of this flowery little harbour, claim the honour of being the first to introduce ivory into France. Thus the story goes, that, in 1364, a company of Dieppois equipped a couple of barques, of only one hundred tons burden each, for the purpose of exploring the coast of Africa. It proved a lucky expedition, stamping the signs of its progress, in the names it gave to its various stopping places, which may be seen to this day on any map; for instance, Cape Verd, Bay of France, and Petit Dieppe, near Sestos. The return cargo of these frail craft was African spices, fruits and ivory. The former soon found its way into the interior, but much of the ivory, whose uses were less familiar, remained, as we may easily suppose, as trophies of their adventures, in the hands of the sailors and their families, until the ingenious fingers of Frenchmen cut, roughly at first no doubt, this compact but easily wrought substance into such domestic ornaments as might, at that time, be in use; sword and other handles, combs, and the like.
Such, then, is said to be the beginning of the Dieppe carving of ivory. Little seems to be known about its progress after this first step, until 1830, when the Duchess de Berri visited Dieppe, and she having taken great interest in the atéliers, has the credit of introducing the Italian taste for finely and deeply cut wreaths of flowers, cupids, and scrollwork.
Ivory work is done in Paris, but it differs from the Dieppe work, in that it is less elaborately carved. Articles of smooth and highly polished surface may easily be distinguished as Parisian ware, and, though beautiful, give more the impression of manufactured goods, than of being specimens of handicraft from an artist’s workshop. Such are the polished glove-boxes, the toilet-brushes, the dainty étui of gilt embroidery scissors, the delight of wealthy Parisiennes, but which minister more to the sense of touch than to the pleasure of a cultivated eye. It is true you may see such articles in the Dieppe shop-windows, but on inquiry it will be found they are made in Paris. Carving is the specialité of the Dieppe workshops, while that of Paris is polishing.
Both Paris and Dieppe are supplied with ivory imported from India and Africa in English ships. In London large purchases are made by a Paris company, whose capital enables them to keep larger and better stocks than individual workmen could themselves. This company will sometimes buy 4000l. worth of tusks at one time. The choicest ivory for the Dieppe work is the green ivory, the fresh or recently extracted tusk of the hunted elephant. It is clear and transparent at first, but with time and exposure becomes whiter and more opaque than the dead ivory, which is from the tusks shed by the living elephant, and is not held in high estimation, being small and often partly decayed.
Senegal, Guinea, and India, yield the best ivory, though small specimens from China are much used. The quality of all these ivories varies much, according to the place of its growth. A carver easily detects a piece of Indian from African ivory. Fossil ivory is brought in good quantities from Siberia; it is whiter and harder than any other, but is still esteemed and much used. The finest ivory is reserved for crucifixes and large objects. The fang or root of the tusk, being bony and opaque, is used only for common purposes and small inferior articles.
The carving of Dieppe is carried on partly by piece-work, and partly by the masters and their apprentices working together, in their atéliers. The Orphan Asylum often provides apprentices for this work. The boys are taken from the asylum at about twelve years of age, and are boarded,
