The Lady of Lynn

by Walter Besant

  CHAPTER XXX

  THE SECRET

  All these things were told me by Molly herself in the afternoon. Youmay very well believe that my heart was sick and sore to think ofMolly being thus thrown away for a bribe of rank and position upon aman who seemed to be of marble or of ice. For of one thing concerningwomen I am very certain, that to make them happy they must be loved.At the time I could not know, nor did I suspect, that this noble earlwas marrying Molly for her fortune. Like the captain, I pictured himas one lifted above the common lot and apart from all temptations asregards money, by his own great possessions. Why, he hadnothing--nothing at all. So much I know--he had wasted and dissipatedthe whole. There was nothing left, and his marriage, especially hisprivate and hurried manner of it, was designed wholly to give him thepossession and the control of Molly's riches.

  "To-morrow, then, we lose you, Molly."

  "To-morrow, Jack. His lordship consents that whenever, if ever, I amwithin an easy journey of Lynn I may come back to see my mother. Butwhen will that be? Alas! I know not. Gloucestershire is on the otherside of the country."

  "After all, Molly, there are many wives who thus go away with theirhusbands and never see their own folk any more. They forget them; theyfind their happiness with the home and the children. Why, my dear, ina year or two, when you have grown accustomed to your state and thecondition of a great lady, you will forget Lynn and the old friends."

  "Never, Jack, never. You might as well expect me to forget the dayswhen we were children together and played about the Lady's Mount andon the walls, and rowed our dingey in the river. Forget my own folks?Jack, am I a monster?"

  "Nay, but, Molly, all I want is to see you happy. Remember us if youwill, and remember that we are all, the captain, and your mother andyour faithful black and myself, daily praying for your welfare."

  So we talked. It was agreed between us that a private wedding was,under the circumstances, much more convenient than a public one, withall the display and feasting in which Lord Fylingdale could not takepart. I could not but think the business too much hurried and toosecret. As for other reasons, especially the absence of anysettlements which would protect the wife, I had no knowledge of suchthings, and therefore no suspicion.

  I bade her farewell--the last time I should see her in private andconverse with her as of old--and with tears, we kissed and parted. Butthere was no question of love or of disappointment. We were likebrother and sister who were separated after growing up together. Andso I kissed her and said no more than "Oh! Molly, if you had no money,we should not lose you," and she replied with a sigh and more tears,"And if I had no money, Jack, I should not have to leave my own peopleand go among strangers who will not welcome me, or love me, or give meeven their friendliness."

  I left her, and walked away. I was too downhearted to stay ashore; Iwould go aboard and sit alone in the captain's cabin. There is nothingso lonely as a ship without her crew. If a man in these days desiresto become a hermit, he should take up his quarters in one of the oldhulks that lie in every harbour, deserted even by the rats, who swimaway when the provisions are all gone. It is lonely by day, and it isghostly by night. For then the old ship is visited by the sailors whohave sailed in her and have died in her. In every ship there have beenmany who die of disease or by accident, or fall overboard and aredrowned. These are the visitors to the hulk at night. Every sailorknows this, and has seen them. I wanted to be alone, I say, therefore,I thought I would go on board and stay there.

  Now, on my way across the market-place, there came running after me aman, who called me by name. "Mr. Pentecrosse--Mr. Pentecrosse," and,looking round, I saw that it was the Lady Anastasia's footman, in thegreen and gold livery--a very line person indeed, to look at, muchfiner than myself in my workaday clothes. "Sir," he said "my mistress,Lady Anastasia, desires speech with you. Will you kindly follow me toher lodging?"

  I obeyed. What did the lady wish to say to me?

  She was in her parlour, half dressed in what they call, I believe, adishabille. She nodded to the footman, who closed the door and left usalone.

  "Mr. Pentecrosse," she said graciously, "this is the second time Ihave sent for you. Yet I gave you permission to call upon me often. Isthis the politeness of a sailor? Never mind; I forgive you, becauseMolly loves you and you love Molly."

  "Madam," I replied, "it is true that I love Molly, but I have nolonger any right to love her except as one who would call himself, ifhe could, her brother."

  "So I wanted, Mr. Pentecrosse--may I say Jack?--to learn yoursentiments about this affair. I am, of course, in the confidence ofLord Fylingdale. I believe that I know all his secrets--or, at least,as many as a man chooses to tell a woman. You men have all got yoursecret cupboards, and you lock the door and keep the key. Say,therefore, rather, most of my lord's secrets."

  "What affairs, madam, do you mean?" I remembered that the business ofthe betrothal was a secret. "What affairs?"

  "Why ask--the affair between his lordship and Molly, of course. ShallI prove to you that I know all about it?"

  "You can do better, madam, you can tell me what the affair is."

  "Oh! Jack, you act very badly. Never, my dear young man, go upon thestage. Of course, you know Molly has no secrets from you. Listen,then.

  "On the first night when Molly and you distinguished yourselves in theminuet--never blush, Jack, a British sailor should always show that heknows no fear--Lord Fylingdale administered a public rebuke to thecompany for their rudeness. He showed thereby that he was alreadyinterested in the girl. He then paid attention to the old captain,whose simplicity and honesty are charming. I need not point out toyou, Jack, that the good old man became like wax in his lordship'shands. He even revealed his ambition of finding an alliance for thegirl with some noble house or sprig of quality, attracted by thereport of her fortune. He was also simple enough to imagine that anyyoung nobleman, a younger son, who would take a girl for her money,must needs be a miracle of virtue, and beyond all considerations ofmoney. So far I am quite correct, I believe."

  "Your ladyship is quite correct, so far." In fact, the captain'sambitions were the common theme of ridicule in the pump room and inthe gardens.

  "He then came to see me, and engaged me as an old friend and one fullyacquainted with his qualities----"

  "Virtues, you mean, madam."

  "Qualities, I said--to make myself a friend of the fair Molly. This Idid. She showed me the amazing collection of jewels which shepossesses, and I gave her advice on certain points. She came here andI taught her something of the fashions in dress, carriage, andbehaviour. She is an apt pupil, but lacking in respect for the mannersof the polite world. I then find my lord entering into furtherconfidential discourse with the captain. He even went on board yourship, and was by you escorted over the whole vessel. He took so greatan interest in everything that you were surprised, and at parting hedrank a glass of wine to the health of the fair Molly."

  "Quite true." I suppose that the captain had told Molly, who told LadyAnastasia.

  "Very well. You see that I know something. But there is a great dealmore. At the next assembly, where Molly went with me, having beendressed by my own maid in better taste, and without the barbaricsplendour of so many gold chains and precious stones, Lord Fylingdaletook her out before all the ladies--the Norfolk ladies being more thancommonly observant of pedigree and lineage--and danced the firstminuet with her and the first of the country dances. What was this, Iask you, but an open proclamation to the world that he was in lovewith this girl--the daughter of a town full of sailors? So, at least,it was interpreted, I hear, by some of the company. Others, out ofsheer jealousy and envy, would not so acknowledge the action."

  "It was not so interpreted by the captain nor by Molly herself."

  "Tut, tut" (she rapped my fingers smartly with her fan), "whatsignifies their opinion? As if they know anything of the meaning ofthings, even when they are done in broad daylight, so to speak, and inpresence of all the fashion in the place. Why, Jac
k, there was not agirl in the town, who, if such an honour had been done to her, wouldnot have gone home that evening to see in the looking-glass a coronetalready on her head.

  "And then came the conclusion. Oh, the beautiful conclusion! Theromantic conclusion when that misguided young gentleman called TomRising endeavoured to carry her off. 'Twas a gallant attempt, andwould have succeeded, I doubt not----"

  "Madam, with submission--you know not Molly."

  "I know my own sex, Jack--and I know that a man is never liked theless for showing courage. However, Lord Fylingdale took the matterinto his own hands--rode after her--fought the unlucky Tom and broughtback the lady. I am still, I believe, correct."

  "You are quite correct, madam, so far as I know."

  "The next day Lord Fylingdale called at the captain's house to inquireafter the lady's health. He saw the captain; he saw the lady herself,who was none the worse, but rather much the better for the excitementof the adventure and the delightful sight of two gentlemen trying tokill each other for her sake. He also saw the lady's mother, who cameout of the kitchen, her red arms white with dough and flour, toreceive the noble lord. Her lively sallies only made him the moremadly in love with the girl."

  How had she learned all this? I cannot tell. But ladies of wealth canalways, I believe, find out things, and servants know what goes on.

  Lady Anastasia continued her narrative. "Next day my lord sent hissecretary, Mr. Semple, as an ambassador to the captain. He wasinstructed to ask formally the hand of the captain's ward in the nameof his master. This he did, the captain not being able to disguise hisjoy and pride at this most unexpected honour. Now, sir, you perceivethat I do know the secrets of that young lady. This morning he hasagain visited the house, and he received the consent--no doubt it waswith disguised joy--of the lady herself. And you have just come fromher. She has told you of her fine lover and of her engagement."

  I made no reply.

  "I will tell you more. My lord desires a private marriage and amarriage very soon. Ha! Do I surprise you?"

  "Madam, I perceive that he has told you all. You are quite right. Thewedding, as you know, is to be in St. Nicholas Church to-morrowmorning at six before the better sort have left their beds. And inorder not to be recognised by any of the people, Molly will wear adomino and her pink silk cloak."

  She nodded her head. And she hid her face with her fan, saying nothingfor a space. When she spoke her voice was harsh.

  "That is the arrangement. You have understood it perfectly. Well,Jack, it is a very pretty business, is it not? Here is a youngman--only thirty, as yet--with a fine old title, an ancient name, andan ancient estate--who is bound by all the rules of his order to marryonly within his own caste. He breaks all the rules; he marries a girlwho is not even a gentlewoman; who belongs to the most homely folkpossible. What kind of happiness do you think is likely to follow onsuch a marriage? You who are not altogether a fool, though you areignorant of the ways, are the right man to marry Molly. Sheunderstands you and what you like, and how you think. Believe me, shecan never be happy with this nobleman. Sailor man, you do notunderstand what it means to be a great man and a nobleman in thiscountry. From his infancy the heir must have what he wants and must doas he pleases. No one is to check his fine flow of spirits; he mustbelieve that the whole world is made for his amusement, and thateverything in the world is made for him to devour and to destroy. Whensuch a child becomes a man, what can you expect? He wants no friends,because friendships among people like yourself are based on mutualhelp, and he wants no help. Companions he must have; young men likehimself. He need never do any kind of work. Consequently, his mind isnever occupied. He has no serious pursuits; therefore, of simpleamusements he soon tires. Can such a man be unselfish? Can such a manlead a quiet and domestic life? He will rake; he will gamble; he willdrink; there is nothing else for him. These will form his life. If henow and then tosses a guinea to some poor wretch, it is counted as anact of the highest charity. The most virtuous of noblemen may also bethe most profligate."

  "Is this what one is to think of Lord Fylingdale?"

  "Think what you please, Jack. Should you, however, hear that themarriage was forbidden, what should you say?"

  "Forbidden? The marriage forbidden? But how? Why? It is to take placeto-morrow."

  "I don't know. Answer my question."

  "Madam, I cannot answer it. If it is true that Lord Fylingdale is thekind of gentleman whose character you have drawn, there is nothing Ishould more rejoice to see. If, however----"

  "You may go, Jack. You may go. I dare say something is going to happento-morrow, at six in the morning, at St. Nicholas Church. Yes,something will probably happen. The bride will be recognised by herblack domino and her pink silk cloak. Thank you, Jack. You are a verysimple young man; as simple as you are honest, and a woman can turnyou round her finger."

  I went away wondering. I did not understand, being as she said, sosimple that I had myself actually given her the information that shedesired. I have since learned that the passion of jealousy and nothingelse filled her soul and inspired all this reading of LordFylingdale's actions. In his conduct at the assembly she saw thebeginning of his passion; his own explanation that he wanted to gether money only made her more jealous, because, although she fullybelieved that statement, she saw no way of getting at the fortunewithout marrying the girl. As for his visits to the house, I supposethat she simply caused him to be watched and followed, while her maid,who played the spy for her, could from a certain point in the roadlook into the parlour when the window was thrown open. It was easy forsuch a jealous woman to surmise the truth; to jump at the conclusionthat, in spite of all his protestations, Lord Fylingdale had come tothe conclusion that he must marry the girl; that his rescue made hergrateful and filled her with admiration for his courage; that he senthis secretary to open the business, and that he followed up thismessage by a formal visit from himself when he placed the lady in achair at the window and bent over her and kissed her hand.

  This was not all. When he told Lady Anastasia that he had no furtheroccasion for her services, and that she had better go back to Londonat once all her jealousy flared up. She thus divined, at once, thatshe was to be sent out of the way, so that when she next met him someof the business might have blown over and she herself might be lessindignant at his treatment of her.

  However, something, she said, was going to happen. What would happen?For my own part, I was restless and uneasy. What would happen? Had Iknown more about the wrath of a jealous woman I should have been moreuneasy. Something was going to happen; could I go to the captain andwarn him as to the character of the lover? Why, I knew nothing. Allthat talk about the heir to rank and riches meant nothing except toshow the dangers of such a position. A man so born, so brought up,must of necessity be more tempted than other men in the direction ofselfishness, indulgence, luxury, laziness, and want of considerationfor others. It is surely a great misfortune to be born rich, if onewould only think so. The common lot is best, with the necessity ofwork. All Molly's misfortunes came from that money of hers. Her fathervery wisely concealed from his wife the full extent of his wealth, sothat she remained in her homely ways, and the captain also concealedfrom Molly until she grew up, the nature of her fortune. Why could henot conceal it altogether from the world? Then--but it is useless tothink what would have happened. Most of our lives are made up withmending the troubles made by our own sins or our own follies. PoorMolly was about to suffer from her father's sin in having so muchworldly wealth.