Revenge of an Englishman

by Kevin Patrick

  Although it was the Cromwell house, my Aunt Tilney seemed to be directing everything. She had taken the role of matriarch and Alice and Miss Jane seemed to be comfortable with it. With the arrival of the Alexander and Campbell families, I was unable to finish my conversation with Alice, the one regarding her husband's fate. It was probably just as well that there was no opportunity to resume the discussion as I did not know what to say. My sister asking me to pardon one of my attempted murderers was such a complicated and agonizing issue. I tried to keep the notion of it from the front of mind as the guests all arrived and conversed in the Cromwell house, but it always was lingering in my thoughts.

  "Monsieur Levasseur! I didn't expect to see you here tonight, but I am ever so glad I did. I last heard you were on business," Mr. Alexander said upon seeing me. We shook hands very strongly.

  "Mr. Alexander, Mrs. Alexander, and Miss Christina, I only returned to London late last night but I am so happy to be back in the company of friends such as you," I responded.

  It had been many weeks since I had to put on the persona of a debonair French man who spoke with style and grace. So when I found myself talking to the Alexander family about all manner of things, and then the Campbell family once more, I enjoyed presenting myself as someone who had been familiar with the top echelons of society all my life. The very mannerisms and speech that I replicated came from books that I read as a juvenile. It was a weird but exhilarating experience to think that I was fooling the people around me.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," I heard Aunt Tilney announce. "Food is ready to be served so if you can all take your glasses of wine and water with you, we will now go down to the dining room."

  The party's seating arrangements had already been prepared even before we entered the dining room. Despite my uninvited arrival, Aunt Tilney had gone and prepared an extra place at the dinner table for me. Not only that, but the dear old woman had even assigned me a seat that was next to her. She said that she had enjoyed my company in Bath and that she would like an opportunity to speak to me further. I responded with a similar sentiment and told her that I looked very much forward to spending an evening with her in conversation.

  The arrangements of the seats were not very significant. Aunt Tilney took most of my attention away from the other guests and no one said anything remarkable throughout the meal. Nor did I manage to overhear anything interesting between the different parties as they spoke to one another throughout the meal. The only real significant thing that I noticed was the obvious absence of Mr. James Cromwell. A place at the dinner table was set for him, at the head of the table, and his wine glass had been poured, but he did not appear for the meal.

  "James is very busy with work at the moment, but he promised to make an appearance this evening. He adores all your friendship, as I’m sure is obvious, so I am confident that he will be along shortly," My sister said to all of us

  "Yes," Aunt Tilney said, supporting my sister's statement.

  As soon as the last course of the meal was finished James Cromwell did make an appearance. He strolled into the room with his eyes fixed on the carpeted floor and he walked to his prearranged seat and sat down. His absence throughout the evening had been weird, his eventual entrance was weirder still, but I found his appearance was the weirdest of all.

  His face was covered in sweat and his skin was pale. The area around his eyes was black and his eyes were sunken in. It looked like he hadn't slept in several days. His eyelids were only half open and his breathing was laboured. His hair was unkempt and standing in an odd position which made me suspect that he had run his hands through it repeatedly. I suspected that he had been intoxicated earlier in the day as I smelled a whiff of alcohol come from him as he walked to his seat at the head of the table. His obliviousness to us around him also seemed to support my belief.

  There was silence once James Cromwell was seated. A few of the guests tried to welcome him or compliment him about his home or the food that had been so well prepared and received by the guests. However, James Cromwell remained motionless and silent, with his eyes continually cast downwards. It was only when Alice spoke to him sharply that James' attention seemed to refocus on the world around him, but even that was short-lived. James Cromwell looked up from the fixed spot on the ground that he had been focused on only long enough to see that there was a full glass of wine by his side. He clutched the glass and drank the contents of it within a matter of seconds.

  "More," James grumbled once he put the empty glass of wine back on the table. His words were barely comprehensible yet I still think everyone who sat around the table understood the sentiment. His hand shook as he kept a firm grip on the glass.

  "More wine," he repeated.

  A servant arrived at James Cromwell's seating spot and began pouring the wine. Once the wine was poured James Cromwell immediately drank the glass empty. He then thrust out his glass towards the servant again signalling that he wanted more. The servant obeyed the order of his master and refilled the glass once more.

  "Perhaps you should slow down, dear. There will be plenty of opportunity for more wine later in the evening," Alice said to James. She looked embarrassed as she spoke to her husband in the presence of a room full of her friends and family.

  "Later?" James murmured. "There is not much time left. The sands of my life are beginning to form around my feet and I know that soon it will be my turn."

  Mr. Campbell shifted his body awkwardly and I saw Miss Christina open her mouth in what looked like amazement but I was sure it was more from terror. I stared at all the members of the party inside the room and all eyes were fixed on James Cromwell. The only audible sound was the heavy breathing of James.

  "Perhaps I can be of some use to you old friend. Should you and I go to another room to discuss matters?" Mr. Alexander said politely to James Cromwell trying to pacify the situation and his deeply troubled friend.

  Suddenly, James Cromwell swiftly lunged forward and grabbed the bottle of wine from the servant's hand. He then drank the contents directly from the bottle. He tilted his head back so that he could consume as much as he could, as quickly as he could and this resulted in a lot of the falling wine missing his mouth and splashing around his cheeks and chin and running down his clothes. It was a ghastly scene and even I started to feel a little bad for the disturbed man.

  "James, let's go to another room," Mr. Alexander repeated. This time getting out of his seat and walking over towards James. "Perhaps Mr. Campbell would be so kind and go with us too."

  Mr. Campbell stood up and walked toward James. He understood that Mr. Alexander was asking him to help remove Mr. Cromwell from the dinner party as he was ruining it and making a scene on account of his being drunk. Mr. Campbell followed Mr. Alexander's direction and they both stood at either side of James Cromwell. It looked as if they were ready to support him if he stood up and lost his balance. It also looked like they were ready to carry or restrain Mr. Cromwell if he did not comply with them or if he continued to make a spectacle of himself in front of the company.

  "I'm not going anywhere with you two, you two harbingers of death," James Cromwell took a momentary break from his wine and shouted. "I know you all mock me openly while pretending to be my friend. I see through your thin-veiled disguises."

  "James, that's enough. You are drunk. You should leave immediately before you bring any more shame on yourself," Alice said loudly, her face was red.

  "Don't dare speak to me like that you wretch. The furies are following me because of your brother. He came to me last night in a dream and he is haunting me from beyond the grave. Tisiphone, Megaera, and Alecto are after me and it is because of you and your damn brother."

  James angrily flung the glass bottle of wine at Alice's head. The bottle thankfully missed her as he had aimed too high and it soared over her head and hit the wall behind her. Upon impact, the bottle shattered into many pieces, and then a big commotion erupted. Aunt Tilney called for James to be removed by all able and sturdy
men who were up to the challenge while at the same time she cursed him for his behaviour and poor treatment toward her niece. When the glass was released from his hand and thrown at my sister, I was immediately on my feet and over to his seating position. Without wanting or needing the issued command from Aunt Tilney, I had grabbed James Cromwell on the arm and began dragging him away from the table and I pulled him off his chair. Mr. Alexander and Mr. Campbell then came to assist me, but if they hadn't I probably would have dragged Cromwell into a room with a lit fireplace and thrown him there to burn alive for his monstrous action against my sister.

  Mr. Alexander suggested we put James Cromwell into his chambers and make sure that the door was bolted tightly to stop him from escaping or getting out. It was also suggested that some servants should be responsible for guarding the door. Mr. Alexander stated that it wasn't imprisonment we were inflicting upon James, but instead, we were saving him from doing further harm onto himself or onto anyone else.

  "I'm sorry about all this commotion. He is normally a gentleman. I don't know what ailment he is suffering from at the moment, but everything that happened in there is not a realistic portrayal of what a good man Mr. Cromwell truly is," Mr. Alexander said to me and Mr. Campbell, trying to apologise for the action of his long-time friend.

  The idea about locking Mr. Cromwell securely away in his bedroom chamber and ensuring that he was guarded and not allowed out all evening was agreed to by Aunt Tilney and my sister and the whole process, including stationing servants outside the room to ensure he could not escape, was quickly arranged.

  "Are you sure you are alright, Mrs. Cromwell?" Each person of the dinner party must have asked individually at least five times each to Alice.

  Alice responded to everyone that asked her and she told them that she was perfectly fine. She apologised on behalf of her husband and said that he had been stressed lately and the anxiousness and grievances that he had kept all bottled up had spilled out with them all as witnesses. When I asked her, I saw her lip quiver and her voice shake. She was trying hard to keep herself composed. Some asked if the ball was to be cancelled or postponed to another time, but Alice was adamant that the night's scheduled plans proceeded as normal. She said that a wild and reckless display from her drunken husband, although shameful, should not be the sole reason to ruin everyone's fun and merriment.

  As desired, the ball proceeded and young nearby neighbours and cousins of the Cromwell’s arrived later in the evening to join the party and help fill up the two adjoining rooms that had been converted into one big area where the guests could dance and stand and socialise. Music was played and some snacks were passed around the room by some of the servants. The previous actions of James Cromwell were not talked about and everyone focused more on the festivities of the night than the sorrow of it.

  "You must find a suitable dance partner," Mrs. Campbell said to me as the third dance started to commence.

  "I am not much in the mood for dancing tonight. I am still a little tired from my travels," I replied.

  "Nonsense, I will find a partner for you," Mrs. Campbell said. It was an unwanted response.

  A partner was found for me by the beginning of the fourth dance. I was adamant that I had not intended to dance and that I did not want to, but Mrs. Campbell solicited the help of Ms. Tilney and when my aunt told me that I must have at least one dance I felt that I could not disobey her. The partner that was selected for me was none other than Miss Jane. She was a long-time friend of Ms. Tilney so my aunt felt no shame or embarrassment going directly to Miss Jane and telling her that she had to dance with me at least once. Miss Jane submitted to the proposal and on the fourth dance of the evening, I danced with Miss Jane. She had spent the previous three dances with Christopher Campbell so I felt a little guilty for breaking up the young couple.

  "Thank you for the dance," Miss Jane said to me.

  "No, allow me to thank you for agreeing to it. I saw Ms. Tilney go and ask you on my behalf."

  "She is a strong-willed woman," Miss Jane said smirking, knowing that both she and I were dancing, not on our own accord but through the doing of Aunt Tilney and others.

  "Yes, she is. There must be many strong-willed women in the family as I notice her niece, Mrs. Cromwell, is a very strong woman too," I said, speaking about Alice.

  Miss Jane then told me how Alice had treated her so well in the house throughout her period as the governess of the children. She spoke about how hard Mrs. Cromwell had worked in making Christopher and Jane's relationship seem like a credible and worthy union. Finally, Jane told me how sorry she felt that Mrs. Cromwell had to endure the pain that her husband was currently inflicting on her.

  "For days now, Mr. Cromwell has been getting worse and worse. I can hear him shouting and cursing everyone in the daytime and then I hear him screaming throughout the night."

  "What does he say?"

  "It's mostly incomprehensible, but he thinks that he is cursed. He must have a fever that is so high that he is in a constant state of delirium."

  "Cursed? Why does he think he is cursed?"

  "I do not know, but he blames Mrs. Cromwell and her family. He thinks they cursed him somehow. I think the doctor will need to be called for again and a stronger dose of medication will need to be prescribed."

  "An unfortunate state of affairs, but I believe I have the solution to it," I told Miss Jane.

  "You do? May I ask what your solution is?" she looked at me quizzically as we continued our dance.

  I told her that the solution to Mr. Cromwell's illness rested on her. I told her that I would like to present Mr. Cromwell with a gift that would help his mind recover from whatever sorry state that it was currently in. She asked what she could do to help and I told her. She asked how it would help and I told her that she had to trust me and that I knew it would.

  "Only you can do this for me. If you can do it just as I have asked then I will certainly pay you for your hard work," I instructed.

  "I cannot accept your money, nor would I want any. If you tell me that this will help Mr. Cromwell, my employer, get better then I will do it for the good of his health and the sake of his wife and children."

  At that moment, I thought that Miss Jane truly was a gem. As the fourth song came to a close and Miss Jane and I were about to part ways we had agreed upon the activity she would do for me, the one I told her would help Mr. Cromwell's state of mind. She told me it would take a week or slightly longer to complete but that she would dedicate all of her free time towards its completion. I thanked her profusely and said that although she did not want any money for her work, no good deed goes unrewarded.

  The ball continued until midnight and it seemed like everyone had thoroughly enjoyed it. The spectacle created by Mr. Cromwell was seemingly a distant memory in the minds of many of the guests who had witnessed it and they chalked up the event to too much alcohol and said that it was something forgivable. The new guests who had not witnessed it had not been informed about it so it did not spoil the outstanding evening that they experienced. As all the guests filed out of the large rooms and the house, saying their thanks and goodbyes to Alice and Aunt Tilney who stood at either end of the front door, I stopped to take a moment to speak with them.

  "Thank you for this evening," I said, bowing first to Alice and then Aunt Tilney.

  "You are most welcome,” Aunt Tilney responded. “And welcome back to London, Monsieur Levasseur. We hope you will visit us again very soon."

  "Yes, these doors are always open for your company," Alice responded.

  I thanked them and then walked a little closer next to them and spoke in a hushed tone.

  "Do you want me to stay and check to see how Mr. Cromwell is?" I asked.

  "No, no, that is not necessary," the two ladies responded in unison.

  Alice responded that in the morning, once the alcohol had left James Cromwell's system, he would return to the person she knew him to be. She said to me, under the watchful gaze of our aunt, th
at there was no reason to feel alarmed or worried about what had transpired around the dinner this evening.

  Chapter 26 - The Portrait of Two Friends

  The next morning at breakfast time I was in the large restaurant that was connected to the hotel where I was staying. The restaurant was a part of the hotel and it was where the hotel served its residents breakfast. On most occasions, I opted to go to a nearby bakery, cafe or skip breakfast altogether instead of eating in the restaurant. However, on this day I felt that a hearty and warm breakfast would suit me nicely. It was the first time that I stepped into the restaurant despite the many days and nights that I had stayed in the hotel.

  The breakfast I ordered was bread, beans, onions, tomatoes, pork sausages, and two fried eggs. For drink, I had a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. It was a large portion of food and probably the largest single meal that I had eaten since I first returned to England after my captivity and eventual release in Africa. I spent forty minutes in the restaurant as I paced myself and enjoyed the delicious food. When I had finished the food I sat and relaxed, my stomach was full.

  In the interval between finishing my breakfast and getting up out of the seat, I rested and let my stomach start to digest the contents of my hearty breakfast. I thought back to the night's events and primarily thought about James Cromwell and his manner. He believed that he was being haunted by William Underhill and that the three furies, the infernal sisters, were pursuing him for his sinful actions. His actions last night showed that he was losing his mind, but he was partially correct with his hypothesis. The only major difference between his beliefs and reality was that William Underhill was not a ghost that had come back to haunt him, no, I was very much alive as I planned his downfall and the downfall of his comrades. Also, it was not the three mythic furies that were following him tauntingly and reminding him of his crime, instead it was his conscience that was plaguing him. Although I had felt a little sympathy towards him last night, that emotion had all subsided and now I was proud of the fact that I had made him suffer so much.