Battle of Hampton Roads

APRIL 12, 1862.]

HARPER'S WEEKLY.

237

THE FIGHT AT HAMPTON

ROADS OF MARCH 9.

FOR future reference we publish on this page a picture of the BATTLE OF HAMPTON ROADS between the Monitor and the Merrimac, from a sketch made at the time by Sergeant Worret, of the Topographical Engineers. This sketch was taken at the time the fight was going on, and is accurate in every particular. As a faithful representation of the most remarkable naval fight of modern times, we think our readers will be glad to see it.

On the preceding page we give a page of views of the INTERIOR OF THE "MONITOR," from sketches drawn by our special artist, Mr. Theodore R. Davis. They will be seen with pleasure every where. They were shown by Mr. Davis to the officers of the Monitor, and approved by them.

We likewise give, on page 235, an exact picture of the Merrimac, drawn very carefully by an officer of the Roanoke. It will be seen that the picture differs somewhat from those heretofore published. The beak or prow is not seen, being under water.

[Entered according to Act of Congress, in the Year 1862, by Harper & Brothers, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York.]

NO NAME.

BY WILKIE COLLINS,

AUTHOR OF "THE WOMAN IN WHITE," "DEAD SECRET,"
ETC., ETC.

ILLUSTRATED BY JOHN M'LENAN.

Printed from the Manuscript and early Proof-sheets purchased by the Proprietors of "Harper's Weekly."

CHAPTER IX.

THREE months passed. During that time Frank remained in London, pursuing his new duties, and writing occasionally to report himself to Mr. Vanstone, as he had promised.

His letters were not enthusiastic on the subject of mercantile occupations. He described himself as being still painfully loose in his figures. He was also more firmly persuaded than ever—now when it was unfortunately too late—that he preferred engineering to trade. In spite of this conviction; in spite of headaches, caused by sitting on a high stool and stooping over ledgers in unwholesome air; in spite of want of society, and hasty breakfasts, and bad dinners at chop-houses, his attendance at the office was regular, and his diligence at the desk unremitting. The head of the department in which he was working might be referred to, if any corroboration of this statement was desired. Such was the general tenor of the letters, and Frank's correspondent and Frank's father differed over them as widely as usual. Mr. Vanstone accepted them, as proofs of the steady development of industrious principles in the writer. Mr. Clare took his own characteristically opposite view. "These London men," said the philosopher, "are not to be trifled with by louts. They have got Frank by the scruff of the neck—he can't wriggle himself free—and he makes a merit of yielding to sheer necessity."

The three months' interval of Frank's probation in London passed less cheerfully than usual in the household at Combe-Raven.

As the summer came nearer and nearer, Mrs. Vanstone's spirits, in spite of her resolute efforts to control them, became more and more depressed. "I do my best," she said to Miss Garth; "I set an example of cheerfulness to my husband and my children; but I dread July." Norah's secret misgivings on her sister's account rendered her more than usually serious and uncommunicative as the year advanced.

Even Mr. Vanstone, when July drew nearer, lost something of his elasticity of spirit. He kept up appearances in his wife's presence, but on all other occasions there was now a perceptible shade of sadness in his look and manner. Magdalen was so changed since Frank's departure that she helped the general depression instead of relieving it. All her movements had grown languid; all her usual occupations were pursued with the same weary indifference; she spent hours alone in her own room; she lost her interest in being brightly and prettily dressed: her eyes were heavy, her nerves were irritable, her complexion was altered visibly for the worse —in one word, she had become an oppression and a weariness to herself and to all about her. Stoutly as Miss Garth contended with these growing domestic difficulties, her own spirits suffered in the effort. Her memory reverted oftener and oftener to the March morning when the master and mistress of the house had departed for London, and when the first serious change for many a year past had stolen over the family atmosphere. When was that atmosphere to be clear again? When were the clouds of change to pass off before the returning sunshine of past and happier times?

The spring and the early summer wore away. The dreaded month of July came, with its airless nights, its cloudless mornings, and its sultry days.

On the fifteenth of the month an event happened which took every one but Norah by surprise. For the second time, without the slightest apparent reason—for the second time, without a word of warning beforehand—Frank suddenly reappeared at his father's cottage!

Mr. Clare's lips opened to hail his son's return, in the old character of the "bad shilling;" and closed again without uttering a word. There was a portentous composure in Frank's manner which showed that he had other news to communicate than the news of his dismissal. He

"HE MIGHT MARRY ME."