CHAPTER XXXIX. ON THE WAY TO DEXTER.
"I DECLARE to Heaven, Valeria, I believe that monster's madness isinfectious--and you have caught it!"
This was Benjamin's opinion of me (on my safe arrival at the villa)after I had announced my intention of returning Miserrimus Dexter'svisit, in his company.
Being determined to carry my point, I could afford to try the influenceof mild persuasion. I begged my good friend to have a little patiencewith me. "And do remember what I have already told you," I added. "It isof serious importance to me to see Dexter again."
I only heaped fuel on the fire. "See him again?" Benjamin repeatedindignantly. "See him, after he grossly insulted you, under my roof, inthis very room? I can't be awake; I must be asleep and dreaming!"
It was wrong of me, I know. But Benjamin's virtuous indignation was sovery virtuous that it let the spirit of mischief loose in me. I reallycould not resist the temptation to outrage his sense of propriety bytaking an audaciously liberal view of the whole matter.
"Gently, my good friend, gently," I said. "We must make allowances for aman who suffers under Dexter's infirmities, and lives Dexter's life. Andreally we must not let our modesty lead us beyond reasonable limits. Ibegin to think that I took rather a prudish view of the thing myself atthe time. A woman who respects herself, and whose whole heart is withher husband, is not so very seriously injured when a wretched crippledcreature is rude enough to put his arm around her waist. Virtuousindignation (if I may venture to say so) is sometimes very cheapindignation. Besides, I have forgiven him--and you must forgive him too.There is no fear of his forgetting himself again, while you are with me.His house is quite a curiosity--it is sure to interest you; the picturesalone are worth the journey. I will write to him to-day, and we will goand see him together to-morrow. We owe it to ourselves (if we don'towe it to Mr. Dexter) to pay this visit. If you will look about you,Benjamin, you will see that benevolence toward everybody is the greatvirtue of the time we live in. Poor Mr. Dexter must have the benefit ofthe prevailing fashion. Come, come, march with the age! Open your mindto the new ideas!"
Instead of accepting this polite invitation, worthy old Benjamin flew atthe age we lived in like a bull at a red cloth.
"Oh, the new ideas! the new ideas! By all manner of means, Valeria, letus have the new ideas! The old morality's all wrong, the old ways areall worn out. Let's march with the age we live in. Nothing comes amissto the age we live in. The wife in England and the husband in Spain,married or not married living together or not living together--it's allone to the new ideas. I'll go with you, Valeria; I'll be worthy of thegeneration I live in. When we have done with Dexter, don't let's dothings by halves. Let's go and get crammed with ready made science at alecture--let's hear the last new professor, the man who has been behindthe scenes at Creation, and knows to a T how the world was made, and howlong it took to make it. There's the other fellow, too: mind we don'tforget the modern Solomon, who has left his proverbs behind him--thebrand-new philosopher who considers the consolations of religion inthe light of harmless playthings, and who is kind enough to say thathe might have been all the happier if he could only have beenchildish enough to play with them himself. Oh, the new ideas! the newideas!--what consoling, elevating, beautiful discoveries have been madeby the new ideas! We were all monkeys before we were men, and moleculesbefore we were monkeys! and what does it matter? And what does anythingmatter to anybody? I'm with you, Valeria, I'm ready. The sooner thebetter. Come to Dexter! Come to Dexter!"
"I am so glad you agree with me," I said. "But let us do nothing in ahurry. Three o'clock to-morrow will be time enough for Mr. Dexter. Iwill write at once and tell him to expect us. Where are you going?"
"I am going to clear my mind of cant," said Benjamin, sternly. "I amgoing into the library."
"What are you going to read?"
"I am going to read--Puss in Boots, and Jack and the Bean-stalk, andanything else I can find that doesn't march with the age we live in."
With that parting shot at the new ideas, my old friend left me for atime.
Having dispatched my note, I found myself beginning to revert, witha certain feeling of anxiety, to the subject of Miserrimus Dexter'shealth. How had he passed through the interval of my absence fromEngland? Could anybody, within my reach, tell me news of him? To inquireof Benjamin would only be to provoke a new outbreak. While I was stillconsidering, the housekeeper entered the room on some domestic errand.I asked, at a venture, if she had heard anything more, while I had beenaway of the extraordinary person who had so seriously alarmed her on aformer occasion.
The housekeeper shook her head, and looked as if she thought it in badtaste to mention the subject at all.
"About a week after you had gone away ma'am," she said, with extremeseverity of manner, and with excessive carefulness in her choice ofwords, "the Person you mention had the impudence to send a letter toyou. The messenger was informed, by my master's orders, that you hadgone abroad, and he and his letter were both sent about their businesstogether. Not long afterward, ma'am, I happened, while drinking tea withMrs. Macallan's housekeeper, to hear of the Person again. He himselfcalled in his chaise, at Mrs. Macallan's, to inquire about you there.How he can contrive to sit, without legs to balance him, is beyond myunderstanding--but that is neither here nor there. Legs or no legs, thehousekeeper saw him, and she says, as I say, she will never forget himto her dying day. She told him (as soon as she recovered herself) of Mr.Eustace's illness, and of you and Mrs. Macallan being in foreign partsnursing him. He went away, so the housekeeper told me, with tears in hiseyes, and oaths and curses on his lips--a sight shocking to see. That'sall I know about the Person, ma'am, and I hope to be excused ifI venture to say that the subject is (for good reasons) extremelydisagreeable to me."
She made a formal courtesy, and quitted the room.
Left by myself, I felt more anxious and more uncertain than ever when Ithought of the experiment that was to be tried on the next day. Makingdue allowance for exaggeration, the description of Miserrimus Dexteron his departure from Mrs. Macallan's house suggested that he had notendured my long absence very patiently, and that he was still as faras ever from giving his shattered nervous system its fair chance ofrepose.
The next morning brought me Mr. Playmore's reply to the letter which Ihad addressed to him from Paris.
He wrote very briefly, neither approving nor blaming my decision, butstrongly reiterating his opinion that I should do well to choose acompetent witness as my companion at my coming interview with Dexter.The most interesting part of the letter was at the end. "You must beprepared," Mr. Playmore wrote, "to see a change for the worse in Dexter.A friend of mine was with him on a matter of business a few days since,and was struck by the alteration in him. Your presence is sure to haveits effect, one way or another. I can give you no instructions formanaging him--you must be guided by the circumstances. Your own tactwill tell you whether it is wise or not to encourage him to speak of thelate Mrs. Eustace. The chances of his betraying himself all revolve (asI think) round that one topic: keep him to it if you can." To this wasadded, in a postscript: "Ask Mr. Benjamin if he were near enough to thelibrary door to hear Dexter tell you of his entering the bedchamber onthe night of Mrs. Eustace Macallan's death."
I put the question to Benjamin when we met at the luncheon-table beforesetting forth for the distant suburb in which Miserrimus Dexter lived.My old friend disapproved of the contemplated expedition as strongly asever. He was unusually grave and unusually sparing of his words when heanswered me.
"I am no listener," he said. "But some people have voices which insiston being heard. Mr. Dexter is one of them."
"Does that mean that you heard him?" I asked.
"The door couldn't muffle him, and the wall couldn't muffle him,"Benjamin rejoined. "I heard him--and I thought it infamous. There!"
"I may want you to do more than hear him this time," I ventured to say."I may want you to make notes of our conversation while Mr. Dexter iss
peaking to me. You used to write down what my father said, when he wasdictating his letters to you. Have you got one of your little note-booksto spare?"
Benjamin looked up from his plate with an aspect of stern surprise.
"It's one thing," he said, "to write under the dictation of a greatmerchant, conducting a vast correspondence by which thousands of poundschange hands in due course of post. And it's another thing to take downthe gibberish of a maundering mad monster who ought to be kept in acage. Your good father, Valeria, would never have asked me to do that."
"Forgive me, Benjamin; I must really ask you to do it. You may be ofthe greatest possible use to me. Come, give way this once, dear, for mysake."
Benjamin looked down again at his plate, with a rueful resignation whichtold me that I had carried my point.
"I have been tied to her apron-string all my life," I heard him grumbleto himself; "and it's too late in the day to get loose from her how." Helooked up again at me. "I thought I had retired from business," he said;"but it seems I must turn clerk again. Well? What is the new stroke ofwork that's expected from me this time?"
The cab was announced to be waiting for us at the gate as he asked thequestion. I rose and took his arm, and gave him a grateful kiss on hisrosy old cheek.
"Only two things," I said. "Sit down behind Mr. Dexter's chair, so thathe can't see you. But take care to place yourself, at the same time, sothat you can see me."
"The less I see of Mr. Dexter the better I shall be pleased," growledBenjamin. "What am I to do after I have taken my place behind him?"
"You are to wait until I make you a sign; and when you see it you are tobegin writing down in your note-book what Mr. Dexter is saying--and youare to go on until I make another sign, which means, Leave off!"
"Well?" said Benjamin, "what's the sign for Begin? and what's the signfor Leave off?"
I was not quite prepared with an answer to this. I asked him to help mewith a hint. No! Benjamin would take no active part in the matter. Hewas resigned to be employed in the capacity of passive instrument--andthere all concession ended, so far as he was concerned.
Left to my own resources, I found it no easy matter to invent atelegraphic system which should sufficiently inform Benjamin, withoutawakening Dexter's quick suspicion. I looked into the glass to see if Icould find the necessary suggestion in anything that I wore. My earringssupplied me with the idea of which I was in search.
"I shall take care to sit in an arm-chair," I said. "When you see merest my elbow on the chair, and lift my hand to my earring, as if I wereplaying with it--write down what he says; and go on until--well, supposewe say, until you hear me move my chair. At that sound, stop. Youunderstand me?"
"I understand you."
We started for Dexter's house.
The Law and the Lady Page 39
