Delphi Complete Works of Sheridan Le Fanu

by J. Sheridan le Fanu

  There was here a little pause, and Mr. Larkin, finding that Miss Lake had nothing to say, simply added —

  ‘And so, for these reasons, and with these views, my dear Miss Lake, we beg, most respectfully, and I will say gratefully, to decline the proffered advance, which, I will say, at the same time, does honour to your feelings.’

  ‘I am sorry,’ said Miss Lake, ‘you have had so much trouble in explaining so simple a matter. I will call early tomorrow, and see Mr. Wylder.’

  ‘Pardon me,’ said the attorney, ‘I have to address myself next to the second portion of your offer, as stated to me by Mr. W. Wylder, that which contemplates a residence in his house, and in the respectable bosom, I may say, of that, in many respects, unblemished family.’

  Miss Lake stared with a look of fierce enquiry at the attorney.

  ‘The fact is, Miss Lake, that that is an arrangement which under existing circumstances I could not think of advising. I think, on reflection, you will see, that Mr. Wylder — the Reverend William Wylder and his lady — could not for one moment seriously entertain it, and that I, who am bound to do the best I can for them, could not dream of advising it.’

  ‘I fancy it is a matter of total indifference, Sir, what you may and what you may not advise in a matter quite beyond your province — I don’t in the least understand, or desire to understand you — and thinking your manner impertinent and offensive, I beg that you will now be so good as to leave my house.’

  Miss Rachel was very angry — although nothing but her bright colour and the vexed flash of her eye showed it.

  ‘I were most unfortunate — most unfortunate indeed, Miss Lake, if my manner could in the least justify the strong and undue language in which you have been pleased to characterise it. But I do not resent — it is not my way— “beareth all things,” Miss Lake, “beareth all things” — I hope I try to practise the precept; but the fact of being misunderstood shall not deter me from the discharge of a simple duty.’

  ‘If it is part of your duty, Sir, to make yourself intelligible, may I beg that you will do it without further delay.’

  ‘My principal object in calling here was to inform you, Miss Lake, that you must quite abandon the idea of residing in the vicar’s house, as you proposed, unless you wish me to state explicitly to him and to Mrs. Wylder the insurmountable objections which exist to any such arrangement. Such a task, Miss Lake, would be most painful to me. I hesitate to discuss the question even with you; and if you give me your word of honour that you quite abandon that idea, I shall on the instant take my leave, and certainly, for the present, trouble you no further upon a most painful subject.’

  ‘And now, Sir, as I have no intention whatever of tolerating your incomprehensibly impertinent interference, and don’t understand your meaning in the slightest degree, and do not intend to withdraw the offer I have made to good Mrs. Wylder, you will I hope perceive the uselessness of prolonging your visit, and be so good as to leave me in unmolested possession of my poor residence.’

  ‘If I wished to do you an injury, Miss Lake, I should take you at your word. I don’t — I wish to spare you. Your countenance, Miss Lake — you must pardon my frankness, it is my way — your countenance tells only too plainly that you now comprehend my allusion.’

  There was a confidence and significance in the attorney’s air and accent, and a peculiar look of latent ferocity in his evil countenance, which gradually excited her fears, and fascinated her gaze.

  ‘Now, Miss Lake, we are sitting here in the presence of Him who is the searcher of hearts, and before whom nothing is secret — your eye is upon mine and mine on yours — and I ask you, do you remember the night of the 29th of September last?’

  That mean, pale, taunting face! the dreadful accents that vibrated within her! How could that ill-omened man have divined her connection with the incidents — the unknown incidents — of that direful night? The lean figure in the black frock-coat, and black silk waistcoat, with that great gleaming watch-chain, the long, shabby, withered face, and flushed, bald forehead; and those paltry little eyes, in their pink setting, that nevertheless fascinated her like the gaze of a serpent. How had that horrible figure come there — why was this meeting — whence his knowledge? An evil spirit incarnate he seemed to her. She blanched before it — every vestige of colour fled from her features — she stared — she gaped at him with a strange look of imbecility — and the long face seemed to enjoy and protract its triumph.

  Without removing his gaze he was fumbling in his pocket for his notebook, which he displayed with a faint smile, grim and pallid.

  ‘I see you do remember that night — as well you may, Miss Lake,’ he ejaculated, in formidable tones, and with a shake of his bald head.

  ‘Now, Miss Lake, you see this book. It contains, Madam, the skeleton of a case. The bones and joints, Ma’am, of a case. I have it here, noted and prepared. There is not a fact in it without a note of the name and address of the witness who can prove it — the witness — observe me.’

  Then there was a pause of a few seconds, during which he still kept her under his steady gaze.

  ‘On that night, Miss Lake, the 29th September, you drove in Mr. Mark Wylder’s taxcart to the Dollington station, where, notwithstanding your veil, and your caution, you were seen and recognised. The same occurred at Charteris. You accompanied Mr. Mark Wylder in his midnight flight to London, Miss Lake. Of your stay in London I say nothing. It was protracted to the 2nd October, when you arrived in the down train at Dollington at twelve o’clock at night, and took a cab to the “White House,” where you were met by a gentleman answering the description of your brother, Captain Lake. Now, Miss Lake, I have stated no particulars, but do you think that knowing all this, and knowing the fraud by which your absence was covered, and perfectly understanding, as every man conversant with this sinful world must do, the full significance of all this, I could dream of permitting you, Miss Lake, to become domesticated as an inmate in the family of a pure-minded, though simple and unfortunate clergyman?’

  ‘It may become my duty,’ he resumed, ‘to prosecute a searching enquiry, Madam, into the circumstances of Mr. Mark Wylder’s disappearance. If you have the slightest regard for your own honour, you will not precipitate that measure, Miss Lake; and so sure as you persist in your unwarrantable design of residing in that unsuspecting family, I will publish what I shall then feel called upon by my position to make known; for I will be no party to seeing an innocent family compromised by admitting an inmate of whose real character they have not the faintest suspicion, and I shall at once set in motion a public enquiry into the circumstances of Mr. Mark Wylder’s disappearance.’

  Looking straight in his face, with the same expression of helplessness, she uttered at last a horrible cry of anguish that almost thrilled that callous Christian.

  ‘I think I’m going mad!’

  And she continued staring at him all the time.

  ‘Pray compose yourself, Miss Lake — there’s no need to agitate yourself — nothing of all this need occur if you do not force it upon me — nothing. I beg you’ll collect yourself — shall I call for water, Miss Lake?’

  The fact is the attorney began to apprehend hysterics, or something even worse, and was himself rather frightened. But Rachel was never long overwhelmed by any shock — fear was not for her — her brave spirit stood her in stead; and nothing rallied her so surely as the sense that an attempt was being made to intimidate her.

  ‘What have I heard — what have I endured? Listen to me, you cowardly libeller. It is true that I was at Dollington, and at Charteris, on the night you name. Also true that I went to London. Your hideous slander is garnished with two or three bits of truth, but only the more villainous for that. All that you have dared to insinuate is utterly false. Before Him who judges all, and knows all things — utterly and damnably false!’

  The attorney made a bow — it was his best. He did not imitate a gentleman happily, and was never so vulgar as when he was fine
st.

  One word of her wild protest he did not believe. His bow was of that grave but mocking sort which was meant to convey it. Perhaps if he had accepted what she said it might have led him to new and sounder conclusions. Here was light, but it glared and flashed in vain for him.

  Miss Lake was naturally perfectly frank. Pity it was she had ever had a secret to keep! These frank people are a sore puzzle to gentlemen of Lawyer Larkin’s quaint and sagacious turn of mind. They can’t believe that anybody ever speaks quite the truth: when they hear it — they don’t recognise it, and they wonder what the speaker is driving at. The best method of hiding your opinion or your motives from such men, is to tell it to them. They are owls. Their vision is formed for darkness, and light blinds them.

  Rachel Lake rang her bell sharply, and old Tamar appeared.

  ‘Show Mr. — Mr. — ; show him to the door,’ said Miss Lake.

  The attorney rose, made another bow, and threw back his head, and moved in a way that was oppressively gentlemanlike to the door, and speedily vanished at the little wicket. Old Tamar holding her candle to lighten his path, as she stood, white and cadaverous, in the porch.

  ‘She’s a little bit noisy tonight,’ thought the attorney, as he descended the road to Gylingden; ‘but she’ll be precious sober by tomorrow morning — and I venture to say we shall hear nothing more of that scheme of hers. A reputable inmate, truly, and a pleasant éclaircissement (this was one of his French words, and pronounced by him with his usual accuracy, precisely as it is spelt) — a pleasant éclaircissement — whenever that London excursion and its creditable circumstances come to light.’

  CHAPTER LXI.

  IN WHICH DAME DUTTON IS VISITED.

  Duly next morning the rosy-fingered Aurora drew the gold and crimson curtains of the east, and the splendid Apollo, stepping forth from his chamber, took the reins of his unrivalled team, and driving four-in-hand through the sky, like a great swell as he is, took small note of the staring hucksters and publicans by the roadside, and sublimely overlooked the footsore and ragged pedestrians that crawl below his level. It was, in fact, one of those brisk and bright mornings which proclaim a universal cheerfulness, and mock the miseries of those dismal wayfarers of life, to whom returning light is a renewal of sorrow, who, bowing toward the earth, resume their despairing march, and limp and groan under heavy burdens, until darkness, welcome, comes again, and their eyelids drop, and they lie down with their loads on, looking up a silent supplication, and wishing that death would touch their eyelids in their sleep, and their journey end where they lie.

  Captain Lake was in London this morning. We know he came about electioneering matters; but he had not yet seen Leverett. Perhaps on second thoughts he rightly judged that Leverett knew no more than he did of the matter. It depended on the issue of the great debate that was drawing nigh. The Minister himself could not tell whether the dissolution was at hand; and could no more postpone it, when the time came, than he could adjourn an eclipse.

  Notwithstanding the late whist party of the previous night, the gallant captain made a very early toilet. With his little bag in his hand, he went down stairs, thinking unpleasantly, I believe, and jumped into the Hansom that awaited him at the door, telling the man to go to the —— station. They had hardly turned the corner, however, when he popped his head forward and changed the direction.

  He looked at his watch. He had quite time to make his visit, and save the down-train after.

  He did not know the City well. Many men who lived two hundred miles away, and made a flying visit only once in three years, knew it a great deal better than the London-bred rake who had lived in the West-end all his days.

  Captain Lake looked peevish and dangerous, as he always did, when he was anxious. In fact he did not know what the next ten minutes might bring him. He was thinking what had best be done in any and every contingency. Was he still abroad, or had he arrived? was he in Shive’s Court, or, cursed luck! had he crossed him yesterday by the down-train, and was he by this time closeted with Larkin in the Lodge? Lake, so to speak, stood at his wicket, and that accomplished bowler, Fortune, ball in hand, at the other end; will it be swift round-hand, or a slow twister, or a shooter, or a lob? Eye and hand, foot and bat, he must stand tense, yet flexible, lithe and swift as lightning, ready for everything — cut, block, slip, or hit to leg. It was not altogether pleasant. The stakes were enormous! and the suspense by no means conducive to temper.

  Lake fancied that the man was driving wrong, once or twice, and was on the point of cursing him to that effect, from the window. But at last, with an anxious throb at his heart, he recognised the dingy archway, and the cracked brown marble tablet over the keystone, and he recognised Shive’s Court.

  So forth jumped the captain, so far relieved, and glided into the dim quadrangle, with its square of smoky sky overhead; and the prattle of children playing on the flags, and the scrape of a violin from a window, were in his ears, but as it were unheard. He was looking up at a window, with a couple of sooty scarlet geraniums in it. This was the court where Dame Dutton dwelt. He glided up her narrow stair and let himself in by the latch; and with his cane made a smacking like a harlequin’s sword upon the old woman’s deal table, crying: ‘Mrs. Dutton; Mrs. Dutton. Is Mrs. Dutton at home?’

  The old lady, who was a laundress, entered, in a short blue cotton wrapper, wiping the suds from her shrunken but sinewy arms with her apron, and on seeing the captain, her countenance, which was threatening, became very reverential indeed.

  ‘How d’ye do, Mrs. Dutton? Quite well. Have you heard lately from Jim?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’ll see him soon, however, and give him this note, d’ye see, and tell him I was here, asking about you and him, and very well, and glad if I can serve him again? don’t forget that, very glad. Where will you keep that note? Oh! your tea-caddy, not a bad safe; and see, give him this, it’s ten pounds. You won’t forget; and you want a new gown, Mrs. Dutton. I’d choose it thyself, only I’m such a bad judge; but you’ll choose it for me, won’t you? and let me see it on you when next I come,’ and with a courtesy and a great beaming smile on her hot face, she accepted the five-pound note, which he placed in her hand.

  In another moment the captain was gone. He had just time to swallow a cup of coffee at the ‘Terminus Hotel,’ and was gliding away towards the distant walls of Brandon Hall.

  He had a coupé all to himself. But he did not care for the prospect. He saw Lawyer Larkin, as it were, reflected in the plate-glass, with his hollow smile and hungry eyes before him, knowing more than he should do, paying him compliments, and plotting his ruin.

  ‘Everything would have been quite smooth only for that d —— fellow. The Devil fixed him precisely there for the express purpose of fleecing and watching, and threatening him — perhaps worse. He hated that sly, double-dealing reptile of prey — the arachnida of social nature — the spiders with which also naturalists place the scorpions. I dare say Mr. Larkin would have had as little difficulty in referring the gallant captain to the same family.

  While Stanley Lake is thus scanning the shabby, but dangerous image of the attorney in the magic mirror before him, that eminent limb of the law was not inactive in the quiet town of Gylingden. Under ordinary circumstances his ‘pride’ would have condemned the vicar to a direful term of suspense, and he certainly would not have knocked at the door of the pretty little gabled house at the Dollington end of the town for many days to come. The vicar would have had to seek out the attorney, to lie in wait for and to woo him.

  But Jos. Larkin’s pride, like all his other passions — except his weakness for the precious metals — was under proper regulation. Jim Dutton might arrive at any moment, and it would not do to risk his publishing the melancholy intelligence of Mark Wylder’s death before the transfer of the vicar’s reversion; and to prevent that risk the utmost promptitude was indispensable.

  At nine o’clock, therefore, he presented himself, attended by his legal henchme
n as before.

  ‘Another man might not have come here, Mr. Wylder, until his presence had been specially invited, after the — the — — ‘ when he came to define the offence it was not very easy to do so, inasmuch as it consisted in the vicar’s having unconsciously very nearly escaped from his fangs; ‘but let that pass. I have had, I grieve to say, by this morning’s post a most serious letter from London;’ the attorney shook his head, while searching his pocket. ‘I’ll read just a passage or two if you’ll permit me; it comes from Burlington and Smith. I protest I have forgot it at home; however, I may mention, that in consequence of the letter you authorised me to write, and guaranteed by your bond, on which they have entered judgment, they have gone to the entire expense of drawing the deeds, and investigating title, and they say that the purchaser will positively be off, unless the articles are in their office by twelve o’clock tomorrow; and, I grieve to say, they add, that in the event of the thing falling through, they will issue execution for the amount of their costs, which, as I anticipated, a good deal exceeds four hundred pounds. I have, therefore, my dear Mr. Wylder, casting aside all unpleasant feeling, called to entreat you to end and determine any hesitation you may have felt, and to execute without one moment’s delay the articles which are prepared, and which must be in the postoffice within half an hour.’