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e Auditing
Fundamentals
Virtual
Communication
and Remote
Auditing
J.P. Russell
and Shauna Wilson
J.P. Russell
Shauna Wilson
ISBN: 978-0-87389-848-5
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written
permission of the publisher.
Publisher: William A. Tony
Acquisitions Editor: Matt T. Meinholz
Project Editor: Paul Daniel O’Mara
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v
vi Table of Contents
Glossary . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 155
References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 159
About the Authors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 161
Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163
List of Figures and Tables
vii
viii List of Figures and Tables
T
he purpose of this book is to provide hands-
on guidelines for using electronic communi-
cation tools as part of the auditing process.
The pros and cons of conducting e-audits and
their consequences will be reviewed. There are
situations when e-auditing techniques are more
efficient, and other times they may be less effi-
cient and even lead to questionable audit report
conclusions. In this book we provide proven tech-
niques for conducting remote audits (eAudits)
and explore eAuditing practices to help organi-
zations make informed decisions regarding their
use. Combined, the two authors have over 20
years’ experience conducting remote audits and
using virtual communication technologies.
xi
1
Introduction to the
eAuditing Process
I
dentify environmental driving forces, issues,
and important terms related to our virtual
world:
• Characterize the virtual environment,
telecommuter workforce, and remote
auditing
• Review environmental driving forces
• Identify current challenges while working
remotely
• Identify fundamental components to be
successful
1
2 Chapter One
eAuditing—Auditing
Remotely
When you start talking about remote auditing—
or eAudits—with a group of auditors, you will
hear plenty of strong opinions. Some auditors are
4 Chapter One
Is/Is Not
Understanding what eAuditing is and is not (see
Table 1.2) will help you understand more about
this emerging auditing technique. Most people
really don’t know what to expect.
Driving Forces
Within the past 12 years, we have all changed
work habits due to three major events: 9/11 per-
manently impacted the economics of travel; the
international marketplace changed our business
relations; and technology continues to change
the way we communicate.
Economic Impact
Travel is very expensive both in lost billable
time and unavoidable travel expenses. For some,
it takes a minimum of six hours to travel, not
including the flying time, because they live two
hours from a major airport. Labor and lost income
are hidden productivity costs, and in many cases
are the larger costs.
Figure 1.1 shows a list of potential expenses
and lost income. Can you think of other losses for
your situation?
After allowing for travel to and from a loca-
tion, you could calculate 12 lost billable hours at
an inclusive rate (hourly plus overhead) of $100
an hour, which totals $1200, or one audit day
of possible income. After calculating the added
expenses of at least $600 per day, it quickly totals
$1800 for a day of travel. If an auditor spends
half or more of their time traveling by plane or on
the road, eAuditing offers a savings of half a year
in labor plus associated travel expenses.
Introduction to the eAuditing Process 7
International Marketplace
In the last 85 years, the television set has been
one of the key drivers of globalization. Rather
than having TV manufacturers, TV parts are
developed and standardized by original equip-
ment manufacturers (OEMs) and then shipped
to a contract manufacturer, where the TV is
8 Chapter One
Technology
Beginning in the early 1970s, technology has
advanced much more quickly than most of the
working population is able to keep pace with. In
2001, collaborative programs were very expen-
sive and exclusive compared to the solutions we
have today. Affordable collaborative solutions
now work on most mobile devices, like an iPad or
smartphone, and are available for small to large
businesses (see Figure 1.3). Mobile device cam-
eras make it very easy to see processes at remote
locations.
In the past, machines served us, but the new
technology of today is more like a partner. Inter-
facing with new technology takes some adjust-
ment on our part, and not everyone wants to do
that.
Many auditors, especially certification/
registration auditors who have missed out on the
technical advancements in working virtually,
will be hesitant about the notion of eAuditing.
Many tried but failed to conduct an online audit
satisfactorily. Their stories not only tell of issues
Introduction to the eAuditing Process 11
2012 Collaborative
meeting rooms
Video on iPhones
Challenges
In our daily activities, we frequently work with
strangers, even trusting them with our lives each
time we drive our car, step on a plane, or get on
a bus. We discuss important life issues such as
finances, insurance, and medical assistance over
the phone with people we don’t know. People even
fall in love over the internet. So, why is it so hard
for us to adapt to working with people virtually?
It’s hardly surprising that some virtual teams
are not successful. And even if they are success-
ful, many virtual team members express a pref-
erence for working face to face. However, there
are many face-to-face teams that are not suc-
cessful either. The reality is that virtual teams
are new, and it may take some time to learn and
adjust to the new environment and technology.
Common concerns about virtual teams
include lack of facial and body language cues
for validation, feeling isolated, and a demand
for higher individual accountability because
delays resulting from lack of preparedness are
Introduction to the eAuditing Process 13
Nonverbal communication
is subjective.
Cooperation, Infrastructure,
and Technology
Cooperation
We trust that other drivers on the roads we share
are trained, healthy enough to drive, and are not
intoxicated, high on drugs, texting, or incapable
of operating their vehicle. With a common goal
that all successfully reach our destinations, we
cooperate with one another by letting others into
our lane, keeping a safe distance behind the per-
son in front of us, and obeying the laws of the
road. The same could be said for virtual team
members who forgive misunderstandings, proof-
read e-mails for how the message could be misin-
terpreted, or call someone to talk about process
issues when needed. We cooperate and commu-
nicate with one another to reach common busi-
ness goals and objectives. In the virtual world we
can not physically force someone to cooperate or
comply with agreed arrangements. In this book
we will learn communication theories and solu-
tions that help our communication while audit-
ing online.
Infrastructure
The road system’s standards and regulations
save lives. If we stop and think about all the cars
and trucks that travel our interstate highways,
freeways, and other roads, it is the infrastruc-
ture, including speed limits, signage, training,
and certification—supported by enforcement—
that ensures this road system continues to hum.
A virtual organization should pay no less atten-
tion to infrastructure to ensure its success. A vir-
tual organization’s internal audit process using
eAuditing methods is an excellent means to
gauge performance.
In this book we will define audit models and
processes that replicate the working environ-
ment, meet an immediate need, and support the
audit process.
Technology
Automotive systems can now warn you if there
is something in front of, in back of, or beside you;
reader boards are able to provide estimated time
of arrival in bumper-to-bumper traffic; and the
list of technology advances rolls on. Our new
road map as auditors is to keep up with the tech-
nological changes, both on the roads and from
our home offices. A challenge for virtual orga-
nizations is selecting technology that enhances
Introduction to the eAuditing Process 19
Chapter Review
U
nderstand communication methods used
in the virtual setting and how to use
these methods to build trust, interview,
and ensure validation.
1. Learn applicable communication models
and theories for auditing online.
2. Review important trust-building
communication processes.
3. Apply the appropriate technology to the
correct type of communication.
Communication Models
and Theories
Communication Challenges
A problem occurs when people use traditional
meeting methods in the online meeting envi-
ronment. Using the internet can make remote
23
24 Chapter Two
Message Message
Virtual Communications
Self-Monitoring Behavior
The second theory we want to discuss is self-
monitoring behavior. Self-monitoring behavior
maintains that some people are sensitive to how
they are perceived by others, while others are not.
Individuals with high self-monitoring behav-
ior give more attention to how they are viewed
by others, even in online environments. These
people are quicker to ask questions and provide
validation, which helps them adapt to meeting
online more easily compared with the low self-
monitoring individuals.
Folks with low self-monitoring behavior often
appear semi-absent from meetings as a result
of multitasking (taking a phone call, check-
ing e-mail, being late to return, or doing other
work). This behavior may be perceived as hostile
because they are not as engaged and involved in
the meeting. In this environment, miscommuni-
cation occurs, a false sense of security develops,
and distrust is validated.
Low-monitoring behavior
More likely to blurt out something that
would not be said in person.
Multitasking!
• Texting
• E-mailing
• Allowing for disruptions
They may be late to rejoin after breaks.
Behavior may seem hostile and disengaged.
Stage One
• Passive social information seeking
• Asking others about someone
• Interacting with the person
Stage Two
• People discuss experience and
background
• Find commonality
• Share process issues
Stage Three
• Make plans
• Exit
Increase
self-monitoring
behaviors
Decrease
uncertainty
and anxiety
Dalton knew that a lover laughed at has a lost cause; he knew too—
fatally for his own peace—that the love he had for weeks upon weeks past
been striving to stifle in his breast, was a love that he had no right to offer;
but her reception of it stung him deeply, and in reply to her laughter he said,
gravely and steadily,
'Precisely so,' she said, with a nod and a saucy smile; 'playing the game
that always requires two to play it.'
'What game?'
'Love-making.'
How astonished Dalton would have been could he have seen the change
that came over the face and manner of the lady he had just left so abruptly.
Her eyes flashed with joyous triumph, yet they were full of welling
tears; her lip quivered; her cheeks were deeply flushed; an agitation beyond
her control made her whole form to vibrate; and as she struck her gloved
hands together she exclaimed, in a low and fervent voice, with almost a sob
in it, 'At last—at last I have completely triumphed—have ground him to the
dust! At last he loves me, and I have conquered his cold, proud heart!'
Then leaping lightly as a girl from her horse, on reaching her own gate,
she passionately embraced and kissed little Netty again and again, greatly to
the bewilderment of the child, who had never seen her mother so agitated
before.
That night she despatched a note to the camp requesting Captain Dalton
to visit her again.
She had boasted to him laughingly and with affected pride and
bitterness of the game she had been playing. She had held a trump card in
her hand, and now it seemed that she had played and lost it.
'I have gone too far, too far, and now may lose him altogether, and after
all—after all!' she exclaimed, with genuine dismay.
CHAPTER IX.
'THE ROUTE!'
It was so; those comfortless wooden wigwams in the lines of the North
Camp, which had known the Rifles for so many months, now, in the words
of the Book of Job, knew them no more; and nothing of the smart but
sombre battalion now remained there save a few soldiers—recruits whose
training was not complete, or men whose time of service was nearly
expired.
The mess had been broken up, its massive and trophied service of plate
packed up and placed in the charge of Goring, who had command of the
fragment of the battalion left behind. The senior captain of a regiment was
never employed on this duty, as, for obvious reasons, his presence at
headquarters is always desirable.
On the eventful morning of their march from camp the gallant battalion
of the 'Prince Consort's Own' scarcely knew themselves in their new
'Ashanti toggery,' as they called it, which was furnished from the stores at
Pimlico, and consisted, for each man, of a grey tweed tunic, resembling a
shooting-jacket, suitable for the climate, with ample pockets; belt and
trousers of the same material, and rough canvas leggings; the head-dress, a
light grey Indian helmet, perhaps the first time such a thing had been worn
on British ground.
Soldier-like looked the Rifles in their black belts and their heavy
marching order, with knapsacks, haversacks, great-coats, canteens, and
water-bottles.
If there was little of the pomp and circumstance of war in this costume,
by repetition in numbers and by uniformity in the mass it did not seem
unimposing; and if splendour was wanting, certainly enthusiasm was not,
and loud and hearty were the cheers that rang along the Lines from one
street of huts to another, as the grey column, preceded by the bands of
several corps, began its short march to the railway which was to convey it
to Southampton just as the red sun of November, the pioneer of winter,
shone out through clouds that had a ragged and dreary look in a grey and
gloomy sky.
It seemed to him that a few hours had wrought a curious change in both
Jerry Wilmot and Tony Dalton, but more especially in the latter, who from
being a grave, earnest, and pleasant fellow had suddenly became morose,
preoccupied, and even sullen and most impatient; one thing alone seemed to
gratify him—the sudden and speedy departure to the seat of war.
'What has come to you, my dear fellow?' asked Goring more than once;
'you look as if you were going into a fever.'
'I am in a fever of the mind, Goring,' replied Dalton, 'and I may tell you
all about it before the transport sails.'
Among the crowd that assembled to see the battalion depart were many
ladies on horseback. There was one under whose tightly-tied veil the hot
tears were falling, as she saw Jerry march past in the strange Ashanti
uniform at the head of his company; but Jerry—his sad thoughts turned
inward—saw not her, and he had no prevision that she of whom his heart
was so full at that moment—Bella Chevenix—was so near him.
'Time will test his truth,' thought the girl; 'true love does not die, but the
false only, as it depends upon outward influences. Yet time may see this
regiment return, and Jerry not with it—oh, God, if it should be—not with
it!'
And the crash of the brass bands went on, and the tramp of the steadily
marching column, the flash of accoutrements and arms, the cheers, the
chorusing, the general hubbub, all portions of a terrible phantasmagoria,
amid which he was taken away from her.
Southampton was reached in due time, and by sound of bugle the
battalion was 'detrained,' to use the term now in use, and marched to the
steam transport which lay in those busy and stately docks, where of old the
sea had ebbed and flowed upon a silent and sandy shore, and where, it is
difficult now to believe, Canute the Dane sat in a chair, and took his part in
that well-known incident by which he rebuked the flattery of his courtiers.
By a hand gangway the grey column defiled at once on board the ship,
whose capacious womb received it. The men were speedily divided into
their watches; a guard was detailed; berths were apportioned; arms racked;
knapsacks hung on pegs or cleats; bedding inspected; duck shirts and
fatigue trousers served out; and so, for a time, the officers and sergeants had
a busy time of it; while a thousand mysterious returns, receipts, and
requisitions seemed to require the signature of the colonel and everyone
else, and these were affixed on the capstan head, the gunwale, the back of
the nearest soldier, or anything else that might be improvised as a table.
Though our soldiers are generally too young to have wives nowadays,
in these short-service times, a few years ago it was not so; thus several
women of the Rifle Battalion, some with babies in their arms, had followed
it to Southampton to see the last of those they might never look upon again.
'No.'
'I'll take her back, and all the women of ours who are here. Pass the
message along, lads,' cried Bevil Goring, who now gave a sergeant carte
blanche to distribute money among all for what they required, and directing
them all to meet him at the railway station next morning.
'Three cheers for Captain Goring!' was now the cry, and many men
crowded gratefully forward to salute him and shake his hand, while he felt
now that he could spend some of the rupees of Bevil Goring of Chowringee
to good purpose; and sure enough he met his strange detachment at the
station next morning; and after giving them a hearty breakfast, including
buns and cans of milk galore for the little ones, he brought them all into
camp, while the transport was steaming down the waters of the Solent, and
heading for the Channel.
But in this part of our narrative we are anticipating certain events which
occurred at Southampton, and which Dalton and Goring, but more
particularly the former, were destined to have long in their memory.
CHAPTER X.
'I cannot understand the terms on which you say you and Mrs.
Trelawney have parted,' said Goring, to whom his most valued friend
Dalton had been, as a sort of relief to his own mind, apparently making
what he called 'a clean breast of it,' and detailing his relations with the fair
widow of Chilcote Grange. 'You seem to have made love enough to her—
that I saw for myself often. You seemed to have expressed admiration
enough for her, to all of which she appears to have listened with patience
and pleasure in some instances; with impatience and petulance in others;
and yet you seem to have wound up with a kind of quarrel at last!'
'She acknowledged that she had only been amusing herself and
befooling me.'
'It would also seem by your own account that amid all the curious love-
making you never made her a direct proposal of marriage.'
'No.'
'Why?'
'I, Tony Dalton—the biggest fool in Her Majesty's service,' replied that
personage, with a groan.
'Does Mrs. Trelawney know of this state of affairs?' asked Goring, after
a long pause.
'She hinted to me once that there was a secret in your life that precluded
her reception of your addresses. Then it is so?'
'Yes, that I am a married man,' replied Dalton, as he threw open his dark
green and silk-braided patrol jacket (which he had resumed after the march)
as if its collar choked him, tossed his half-finished cigar into the blazing
fire, and drained his glass only to replenish it again.
It was in a hotel at Southampton, not far from where the transport lay,
when they were having a 'farewell drink' after a cutlet or so, that Dalton
made this astounding revelation to his friend—one that seemed fully to
account for many peculiarities which the latter had remarked in Dalton's
intercourse with Mrs. Trelawney.
'Why, in the name of all that is wonderful, have you concealed this so
long?'
'The most miserable stories are often told in a few words, and thus told
best; and, Goring, I shall tell you mine,' replied Dalton.
'When I was being educated for the service—my parents being dead—I
was boarded by my uncle Sir John Dalton—on whose hands and generosity
I was utterly cast—with a tutor at Hastings.
'All this was some ten or twelve years ago. At the theatre there was a
young girl who figured in the bills as Miss Laura Dorillion, and who was
deemed quite a star.
'One story went that she was a lady of high family, who, in a rage for
histrionic fame, had fled from home, changed her name, and adopted the
stage as a profession; another story was that she was the only daughter of a
man of rank, whom dissipation or bad speculations on the turf had ruined;
and rumour added that, when only twelve years of age, she had played
Juliet to perfection in amateur theatricals at a fashionable West End School;
at fifteen she was a genius; at seventeen she was cast as Miss Hardcastle in
the "School for Scandal;" and more than once when I saw her as Juliet I
longed, with all my soul, to be her Romeo.
'Was she pretty, you will ask? When made-up for the stage and
surrounded by all its accessories, she looked downright lovely; but, when
watching her going from her lodgings to morning rehearsal, I was obliged
to confess to myself that my goddess had rather a large mouth, but fine eyes
with a sleepy or dreamy expression, long lashes and drooping lids of which
she could make a most seductive use; that in figure she was tall but not
ungraceful, and was neither fully grown nor developed; but there seemed a
great want of finish about her for one who was alleged to be the daughter of
a noble family. This might proceed, I thought, from the style of her toilette,
which certainly did not come from Swan & Edgar's.
'The girl was quite a favourite in Hastings; she played for, sang for, and
subscribed to many local charities, and had about her none of that fastness
of dress or demeanour peculiar to so many young girls on the stage; and so I
loved her, or thought I did. I was but a boy—it was what the French—so
happy in their phrases—call un grand caprice enflammé par des obstacles
—nothing more, perhaps; and the obstacles were my lack of independent
means to take her off the stage; my having no profession; and my uncle's
well known family pride, position, and general views regarding me, his
brother's only son, and all that sort of thing. Otherwise, I might have
continued "to sigh like a furnace," and eventually, when I went elsewhere,
forget her; but it was not to be.
'I was not a bad-looking fellow, and always dressed scrupulously well;
thus she was not long in discovering me as I sat night after night, bouquet in
hand, in a certain pit stall; and she no doubt connected me with the beautiful
bouquets that came to the stage door nightly, in more than one instance with
little complimentary notes on pink and perfumed paper inserted therein.
'Once she appeared at the wings with one of these notes in her hand. She
blew me a kiss from the tips of her fingers, and placed the missive in her
bosom, two little actions which raised me to the seventh heaven of ecstacy.
After that Laura Dorillion sang to me, acted to me, glanced and smiled at
me in a way that completed her conquest, and, in short, I was a lost Tony
Dalton!
'As a pledge of solemn engagement, I gave her a diamond and opal ring.
'From what you know of my disposition and general character, you may
guess the end of all this.'
'No—I do not,' said Goring.
'In church! where she was given away by the manager. The "heavy old
woman" acted as mother, two young ladies of the company were
bridesmaids, and when, tremulously, she subscribed herself in the register
Laura Dorillion, the clerk and the pew-opener gave their signatures as
witnesses. The breakfast is but a confused memory. There was no rice—no
old slippers; and we are told that no girl likes to be married without any of
the gay things which make marriage such a joyous experience—no gay
preparations—no pretty wedding in a flower-decked church—no presents—
not even a new dress!'
'Well?'
'Then came a life of misery and jealousy. I trembled when other men
went near her, and boiled with exasperation when love was openly made to
her on the stage in the mere business of the play. I had seen enough of that
done before with considerable placidity, but somehow I could not stand it
now.
'At last there came a night which I was fated not to forget for a time.
'I had brought her home from the theatre, where she had acquitted
herself with singular skill and sweetness as blind Iolanthe in "King René's
Daughter," and she was in the act of repeating a portion of her dialogue
with Tristan as we ascended the stair—
"Another time,
When I had pined for many tedious days,
Because my father was detained from home,
I wept for very gladness when he came!
Through tears I gave my bursting heart relief,
And at mine eyes it found a rushing vent."
'"Hullo, my girl," he exclaimed; "here you are at last! This here is a rum
go. So this is the young gent as you have gone and made such a fool of
yourself by marrying?"
'Laura's heart was beating fast—so fast that even respiration seemed to
suffocate her; her face was blanched; her eyes had a scared expression; and
gave me a glance that seemed full of shame and agony.
'"Who are you, and what do you want here?" I demanded, looking about
for a stick.
'"Oh, father," said Laura, in a breathless voice, "why have you come,
and how did you find me out?"
'"I come because I want money; and, as for finding you out, that was
easy enough; the Hastings theatre ain't at the bottom of the sea."
"'And mother?"
'"Is there in your bed—has had a drop too much, and so I have tucked
her in there; and now what have you got for supper—tripe, sausages,
bloaters, or summat tasty, I hope? Speak—you look as lively as a couple of
glow-worms in the sunshine!"
'My soul sickened within me! And with these additions to our little
household—a slatternly, odious mother, a beery, broken-down actor, whose
line had once been genteel comedy, a clown in a circus latterly, but whose
incessant dissipation had deprived him of all employment—life became a
burden now, and my stupendous folly stood in letters of fire before me.
'Their arrival filled my wife with shame and anger, and I do believe with
generous sorrow for me. My quarter's pittance was soon expended; her
salary could not maintain us all. My tutor soon discovered the whole
situation, and laid it mercilessly bare before my uncle, Sir John Dalton, who
from that hour cast me off, ignored my letters and my existence, and
disinherited me by his will.
'I had no money, or means of getting any, after the best of my jewellery
and wardrobe had departed. Laura's father and mother soon proved abusive
and most obnoxious to me; they insulted me hourly, and eventually drove
me from the squalid lodgings we shared together. Laura one night took their
part; it required but that to fill up the measure of my disgust, and I found
myself wandering in the streets with all I possessed in the world—the
clothes that I wore. I rooted the love of her out of my heart; but it was long
before I could efface her image, which often a fancied resemblance in
another brought before me.
'There are some men of whom it is said that they will not acknowledge
their false steps even to their own hearts; but I am not one of them, and
must acknowledge, dear Goring, that in sackcloth and ashes I have repented
of mine.
'My haughty uncle proving obdurate to the last degree, there was no
hope for me so far as he was concerned; so I took the Queen's shilling and
sailed for India, and there I strove to forget my boyish folly, the
contemptible position I had occupied with such a father and mother-in-law,
the disgust and horror with which their advent and their surroundings
inspired me—sick, too, of the slatternly girl I had married, for slatternly she
too was in her home and when off the stage, reserving all her toilettes and
her graces for the British public.
'You know the rest. I soon got a commission through the ranks—sooner
than I could have got it through the medium of a crammer and exams. From
the hour I turned at midnight along the Marina of Hastings, and heard the
monotonous sound of the surge, as it rolled on the beach in the dark, I have
never heard of my wife or been able to trace her. Her odious parents I
discovered have been long since dead, and that she is no longer on the
stage, or, if so, bears another name, or has gone I know not where.
'I have sometimes hoped that I had been freed from her by death—
ungenerous though that hope may be, and that my uncle must have heard of
her demise, when by a codicil to his will he left me all his fortune. And now
you know why it was that I dared not make a proposal to Mrs. Trelawney—
nor did I ever think of love or marriage till I met her lately; and how I love
her, and have struggled to tear that hopeless passion from my heart, is
known only to God and to myself!'
CHAPTER XI.
'Poor Dalton! you have indeed suffered deeply—paid dear for your
boyish folly,' said Goring, as the former concluded the little story of his
early life in a voice tremulous with emotion. 'Now the apparent
inconsistency of your attention to Mrs. Trelawney is quite accounted for.'
'You are in one now,' said a sweet and tremulous voice, as Mrs.
Trelawney, who, unseen and unheard by them in their preoccupation, had
softly entered the room, stood before them.
How much or how little she had overheard they did not precisely know,
but with a smile of mingled sadness and sweetness, pride and triumph, she
threw up her veil, and the full light of the gasalier overhead fell upon her
rich, shining hair, her beautiful and animated countenance.
'Yes. Can it be that you have yet to learn that I am that Laura Dorillion
to whom you gave this opal and diamond ring, with whom you spent so
many a sweet hour, by Fairlight Glen, the East Cliffs that overhang the sea,
by the Dripping Well, and amid the old castle walls at Hastings—the Laura
whom you married, and from whom you so coldly fled?'
Dalton tried to speak, but his voice was gone; he could but stretch his
hand towards her, without advancing, while regarding her with growing
bewilderment; so she spoke again, with tears in her voice.
The words were simple, but spoken with great pathos, and all her
sparkling manner seemed to have left her as she seated herself, and he hung
over her.
'Do you forgive me, Laura, and pardon me—pardon me, and love me?'
He was about to put an arm round her, when he paused, and said,
'I assumed it from an aunt, who left me a small fortune, but for which I
—I might have been compelled to struggle in penury on the stage to support
your daughter.'
'My daughter!' exclaimed Dalton, a great love for the beautiful little girl
lie knew suddenly gushing up in his heart. 'My daughter—mine?'
'Born—when?'
Goring, who had been studying a picture on the wall, now thought he
might as well withdraw softly, and smoke his cigar outside.
Taller in stature, fuller in figure, more fully developed in every way, and
with a bearing, manner, and grace cultivated by those among whom she had
moved, it required a certain effort to recognise in her the girlish Laura
Dorillion of the past time. Though her whole style was different—finer and
more statuesque—and the mode of her toilette and of dressing her hair was
different, her voice and the inflections of it, her expression of eye, the droop
of the lid and flicker of the long lash, and the sweet smile of her lip were, he
now saw, all unchanged, and he pressed her to his breast in the rapture of
the moment, forgetting that the transport which was soon to bear him away
was at that supreme moment of joy having her fires banked up preparatory
to putting to sea.
'And you love me, Laura?' he never was tired of repeating, and hearing
the sweet admission that she did so. 'Oh, why have you concealed till this—
why have you concealed yourself thus, and from me?'
'I wished to try you—to test you—to compel you to love me, and I have
done so, have I not?' she asked, taking his face between her hands and
gazing tenderly into his eyes.
'You know now what fettered my tongue,' said he, with a sigh.
'I knew you were in bondage—but it was in bondage to me. Your love
for me was an insult to myself; your compliments and intentions in the
present time, were an implied insult to my past. You dared to love me,
knowing that you had a wife somewhere—where, you knew not; but you
little thought that Mrs. Trelawney, the supposed widow of a mythical
Trelawney, and Laura Dorillion were one and the same person. Now, is the
situation dramatic? Do you remember that you told me that you loved me
against your own will and conscience, and that my very name of Laura
repressed that love at times? Heavens, could you but know what I felt—
how my heart was wrung—my woman's pride alternately roused and
crushed by admissions such as these! I have suffered greatly, darling, but all
is over now,' she added, laying her cheek on his breast, while his lips were
pressed to her forehead.
'I knew not that you were in the Army, or were in life. I knew not of
your existence till I met you suddenly at Aldershot, after I had lived years of
seclusion in the Channel Isles. I thanked God for the discovery; I vowed to
win you again, if I could, before I would reveal myself—and I have done
so.'
She whose love he had so longed and prayed for, and yet striven to root
out of his heart, was now his own—his own after all; and all the pent-up
love of lonely years had found reward at last.
'Often before I met you again—discovered you, and vowed to make you
mine again, I had pondered that, but for Netty's sake, whether, taking it all
in all, the good with the bad, life was worth living,' said she, her eyes full of
tears now.
'And till now, Laura, my life has seemed a gloomy and empty one. I was
often appalled by the aimlessness and isolation of it.'
'How strange it is that you never discovered me!' said Laura; 'yet I have
seen your eyes wander more than once to this engagement ring.'
'And stranger still that when I heard you sing the old, old song that was
once so familiar, making my heart thrill with troubled memories, no light
came to me. Oh, Laura, you acted well your part to this joyous ending.'
'I told you that I had found the verses in an old album, where a friend
wrote them years ago; that friend was yourself. You remember so lately
telling me that I had ruined your life?'
'Yes, Laura, and your cruel smile.'
'God knows how at that moment I longed to cast myself on your breast,
Anthony, as I do now, and barter all my past wrongs for a single kiss!'
His Christian name again on her lips, as in the days of their boy and girl
love, ere the black change came, and how strange, yet familiar—how sweet,
how dear it sounded!
'How did you learn I was here with Goring?' he asked, tenderly.
'My darling—my darling, why have you kept all this secret so long—the
secret that you were my own?'
'As I told you, I would never be more to you than I am now, were I to
live a hundred years, and was I not right?'
'But to keep the secret so long—I might never have learned it, for to-
morrow will see us separated. Hastings was the first volume of our
romance.'
'The third is Ashanti. How it will end, God alone knows, darling,' he
added, straining her in his embrace, while her tears fell fast now; 'if spared
to return to you, Laura—to you and little Netty—you will never regret your
love and trust in me at last—your confidence in my affection.'
Poor Dalton—'if spared;' he was right to say that, with the fate and
fortune of a barbarous war before him.
The old love had become the new one, and the new love was the old;
and yet it seemed that to-night both had entered on a new relationship.
And, as we have said, the two last appeals of Jerry Wilmot and Dalton
ended differently. Practically they came to the same conclusion—a
separation from those they loved.
Laura now deplored deeply her pride and folly, as she deemed it, in
playing the game she had done so long; but the separation had to be faced
and endured; yet she watched the transport, as it steamed down
Southampton water, till it melted into the haze; and it was not until then that
she fully realised that her husband, so lately restored to her, was gone again,
and perhaps for ever.
But that her appearance on board would have excited speculation in the
battalion, she would have gone down the Channel with the steamer and
come ashore in the pilot's boat at Deal.
On the long, though rapid voyage, Dalton had ample food for reflection,
for thinking of the strangeness of his fate, that for months past he had been
associating with, meeting and seeing at intervals, and loving deeply, a
woman who was his own wife, and yet he knew it not!
Why, but for the temptation to win him again, and for the gratification
of a kind of affectionate vengeance. And now they were separated, each
with but a memory to the other again.
A few photos and two locks of hair—the light blond hair of his wife, a
golden curl of his little daughter—were all that poor Dalton took with him
to the burning coast of Ashanti, to remind him of the happiness he had so
lately and so briefly tasted, and might never taste more.
CHAPTER XII.
Alison had promised to wait for him a year—and well he knew that, if
left to herself, she would have waited for several. Would she be true to that
promise? Could he but find her now, he would have no compunction in
carrying her off, whatever her father might say, though it would seem that
the brave old Scottish days of Lochinvar and Jock of Hazeldean are over
and for ever.
The corps was gone now, and he felt dull and lonely with the dépôt,
which would probably soon be taken from the camp to Chatham or
elsewhere, and the little duty he had of it consisted chiefly of drilling and
training green hands, and taking them through a weary course of musketry,
while his thoughts were elsewhere, and he soon began to feel that, if he did
not soon learn tidings of Alison, he would 'leave no stone unturned' to get
away from Aldershot—to get away to fight the Ashantees or any other
folks; and the next moment he would be thankful that he was left behind to
search for her.
One day he visited Mrs. Trelawney to inform her that the transport with
Dalton and the regiment on board had been spoken with by a vessel some
sixty miles westward of Ushant, when he found her in the act of writing a
note to himself, and looking somewhat nervous and disturbed in manner.
She received him with unusual kindness, and with a kind of sympathy in
her manner that puzzled him.
'It is confidently asserted that the English yacht reported as having been
sunk some weeks ago in a midnight collision with the lugger Le Chien Noir,
of Ostend, off the mouth of the Maese, is Lord Cadbury's beautiful
brigantine the Firefly, so well known at the Cowes Regattas. Sir Ranald
Cheyne of Essilmont and suite were on board.'
He grew deadly pale and reeled, but, recovering, read the fatal
paragraph again and again, till the letters seemed photographed on his brain,
and he was scarcely conscious. Mrs. Dalton, as we must call her now, was
in tears, and had taken his left hand caressingly between her own.
He threw himself into a chair, and a silence for some minutes ensued.
Separation and opposition were to be looked forward to, and had been
encountered and effected. Even a marriage with Lord Cadbury was not
improbable; had not his own heart told him so but a few minutes before?
But a catastrophe like this—death—death by drowning—was altogether
unlooked for!
Sad and broken was the conversation now between him and Laura
Dalton, and they could but surmise and conjecture in vain, while he
lingered long with her, as he clung to her presence and society for
sympathy.
He recalled more powerfully than ever now her loving words, her tender
and winning expression of eye; again he felt in memory the pressure of her
soft little hand, her gentle kisses, and the sea seemed to give up its dead at
the only exorcism it will obey—that of a bereaved and faithful heart—and
his beloved was with him as on that last time he saw her face.
Times there were when but for this feature in his loss he might have
thanked Heaven that it was death—only death—that separated him from his
darling, and not a degrading marriage with that odious old man. And in the
extremity of his grief he at times forgot to feel anger at either him or her
father for the catastrophe they were the unintentional means of bringing
about.
When Goring was sitting like a man turned to stone, evincing little sign
of life save when he sighed heavily, Laura Dalton kindly laid a hand on his
shoulder and said,
'The dépôt is fully formed and in working order now. Leave the
command of it to the next officer, young Fleming, and, as you will not be
wanted at Aldershot till the spring drills commence, go personally and
search for intelligence.'
'The yacht is said to have been sunk off the Maese; people at
Maeseland-Sluys or Rotterdam may know something about it. Get leave, go
there and inquire, you will be useless here, my dear Goring, and a burden to
yourself.'
'Is not anything better than sitting still a prey to wretchedness and one's
miserable thoughts?' she said, feelingly, as she referred, perhaps, to some
time or passages in her own past life.
Goring resolved to take measures for trying his too probably useless and
hopeless search at once. He promised faithfully to write to Laura Dalton
informing her of his progress, and of every fragment of intelligence he
could pick up—telegraphing to her in the first place. He pressed her hand,
kissed her on the forehead, and in another minute was in his saddle, and
galloping back to Aldershot at a break-neck speed—at a rate which would
certainly have made his nag remonstrate had it possessed the gift of speech.
He dashed off his application for leave, and had it at once despatched.
He commanded the inlying piquet that night, and, like an automaton, had to
go through the formula of parading it in line with forage caps, great-coats,
and side arms, and seeing the camp patrolled between retreat and half an
hour after the first post of tattoo.
Never would he forget the gloom of that few hours' duty, which seemed
to be done, not by himself, but some one else. He had a curious and
perplexing sense of a dual existence.
He could not rest in his hut alone. Nearly all that night he wandered
about the silent camp like an evil or unquiet spirit, challenged again and
again by great-coated sentinels, who marvelled whether this officer who
passed their posts so often, and to all appearance so aimlessly, was
demented or not; and so, for hours and hours of a gloomy and inclement
night, he roved about, and heard the wind swaying the tops of the trees. He
shivered, and tried to collect his thoughts, but seemed to have none to
collect.
He tried to reason with himself, but, whatever idea suggested itself, one
was always uppermost—Alison drowned, Alison in the cruel and merciless
sea.
'I must get out of this place, do something, pull myself together, or I
shall go mad,' he muttered.
Was he dreaming? was all this sorrow a vision of the night that would
pass away?
Till the morning gun boomed from Gun Hill, and the sweet low reveille
began to steal out on the moistened air, he continued to wander thus, till,
drenched with the dews of night, he retired to his hut, and flinging himself
upon his bed, endeavoured to sleep for an hour or two—the sleep of utter
exhaustion.
'Mean, man alive! don't you know? It means that the parade is
cancelled.'
'I had forgotten, but, till I dismiss the piquet, parades are nothing to me,'
said Goring, turning his face to the wall, and Fleming departed, fully
believing from the manner and appearance of his senior officer that 'he was
screwed tight as a drum, by Jove!—on duty, too! I wonder the fellow
doesn't cut Aldershot now—he's rich enough; can draw cheques galore; not
get them, like me, with strong paternal comments, and perhaps well-
deserved objurgations.'
And Bevil Goring lay there in his hut, hearing the incessant drums
beating and bugles sounding with a dazed feeling, as if he had been shot
into another world. With him it was—
'What the devil is up with Goring?' said Fleming and others of the
dépôt; 'within the last few days he has looked older by ten years—worn and
worried—not at all like a man who has just come into a fine pot of money.'
CHAPTER XIII.
THE JOURNEY.
At last he got his leave of absence and was off for London. Food
remained before him almost untasted or forgotten. He ate eventually, but
very sparingly, like one who knows it should be partaken of only for
strength to achieve some task that was to come.
There are few among us who have not undergone at some period of our
lives that intolerable fever of spirit, when setting out on some journey or
errand, the eventuality of which may be the life or death of some one loved
well and dearly. The heart and soul annihilating space, traverse the journey
in an instant; the helpless longing body, no matter at how swift a rate it may
be progressing, seems to stand stock-still, and the imposed inaction
becomes a physical torture that is to a certain extent merciful, since for the
time it partially paralyses the action of the brain.
All this, or something like it, was endured by Bevil Goring, while the
swift express tidal train sped on its way through the darkness of the night by
Witham with its long and almost solitary street; through Colchester, getting
but a glimpse of the winding valley overlooked by its old castle; by
Manningtree, Bradfield, and welcome to his ears was the cry of 'Harwich,'
and he became sensible of the cold sea-breeze as the train went clanking
into the station, on the tongue of land between the mouths of the Stour and
the Orwell; and a minute more saw him with his railway-rugs in a strap
hurrying after the porter who shouldered his portmanteau.
'Rotterdam.'
'State room or locker, sir?' asked the steward, touching his cap.
'A locker—there, that will do,' said Goring, as he threw his rugs on one
and looked round him. He saw 'Rotterdam' on everything, from the front of
the steward's cap to the glasses in the trays that swung between the beams,
and after a brandy and seltzer he lit a cigar and went on deck as the screw
began to revolve, the shore-warps fell plashing from the timber heads into
the water, and way was made upon the vessel.
There were but few passengers on board, and these few, as yet, seemed
disposed to be surly, suspicious, and to keep apart from each other in true
John Bull fashion.
A bright and beautiful moon shed its silvery light upon the smooth but
rippling water, and by half-past nine the clang of the Bell Buoy began to
grow fainter and fainter as the steamer headed seaward, and the many red
and green lights on the flat shore began to fade out and melt into the
uncertain haze.
Long did Bevil Goring remain on deck alone, sunk in deep and sad
thoughts.
Was she indeed beneath those moonlit waves over which he was so
swiftly gliding. He shivered as he looked at them, and turned his eyes to the
star-studded sky; at last he wearied of the incessant repetitions from the
watch to the man at the wheel, 'starboard,' 'port,' 'hard-a-port, 'steady,' every
ten minutes or so when a vessel came near, and the tiresome iteration of
their orders only ceased when the fog-horns began to sound, when the
anchor was let go near a long line of lights that twinkled dimly through mist
upon the shore to the eastward, and Bevil Goring knew that he was now
close in on the Continent.
Midnight was long since past, and he went below; the weary steward
was still yawning in his pantry, when Bevil thought another brandy and
seltzer would do him no harm.
'Rotterdam, did you say, sir?' asked the steward, with a stare of surprise.
'Yes.'
'Why, sir, this is the Antwerp boat, and these lights on shore are
Flushing—we're in the Scheldt.'
'I was told distinctly that this was the Rotterdam boat.'
'So it is, sir, in a way—it is the Rotterdam, bound for Antwerp. Where
was you going to?'
Goring explained, on which the steward mixed himself a glass of grog,
laughed, and said it was a jolly mistake. Goring, however, failed to see the
jollity of it, and began to consult a railway guide to trace out his route from
Antwerp the moment he landed there, by Breda, to the city on the Maese.
'Yes, sir,' replied the steward, 'but it wasn't quite off the mouth of the
Maese.'
'Where, then?'
'Which?'
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