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diff --git a/old/11720.txt b/old/11720.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fc9b406 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11720.txt @@ -0,0 +1,18520 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Fenton's Quest, by M. E. Braddon + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Fenton's Quest + +Author: M. E. Braddon + +Release Date: March 25, 2004 [eBook #11720] +Most recently updated: July 24, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FENTON'S QUEST*** + + +E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram and Project Gutenberg Distributed +Proofreaders + + + +FENTON'S QUEST + +BY + +M. E. BRADDON + +The Author of "Lady Audley's Secret," "Aurora Floyd," Etc. Etc. Etc. + + + + + + +CHEAP UNIFORM EDITION OF MISS BRADDON'S NOVELS. + +Price 2s. picture boards; 2s. 6d. cloth gilt; 3s. 6d. half parchment or +half morocco; postage 4d. + +MISS BRADDON'S NOVELS + +INCLUDING + +"LADY AUDLEY'S SECRET," "VIXEN," "ISHMAEL" ETC. + +"No one can be dull who has a novel by Miss Braddon in hand. The most +tiresome journey is beguiled, and the most wearisome illness is +brightened, by any one of her books." + +"Miss Braddon is the Queen of the circulating libraries."--_The World._ + +N.B.--There are now 45 Novels always in print; For full list see book of +cover, or apply for a Catalogue, to be sent (post free), + +LONDON: J. AND B. MAXWELL, + +Milton House, 14 and 15 Shoe Lane, Fleet Street; + +AND + +35 St. Bride Street, Ludgate Circus, E.O. + +And at all Railway Bookstalls, Booksellers' and Libraries. + + + + +CONTENTS + +I. THE COMMON FEVER +II. MARIAN'S STORY +III. ACCEPTED +IV. JOHN SALTRAM +V. HALCYON DAYS +VI. SENTENCE OF EXILE +VII. "GOOD-BYE" +VIII. MISSING +IX. JOHN SALTRAM'S ADVICE +X. JACOB NOWELL +XI. THE MARRIAGE AT WYGROVE +XII. A FRIENDLY COUNSELLOR +XIII. MRS. PALLINSON HAS VIEWS +XIV. FATHER AND SON +XV. ON THE TRACK +XVI. FACE TO FACE +XVII. MISS CARLEY'S ADMIRERS +XVIII. JACOB NOWELL'S WILL +XIX. GILBERT ASKS A QUESTION +XX. DRIFTING AWAY +XXI. FATHER AND DAUGHTER +XXII. AT LIDFORD AGAIN +XXIII. CALLED TO ACCOUNT +XXIV. TORMENTED BY DOUBT +XXV. MISSING AGAIN +XXVI. IN BONDAGE +XXVII. ONLY A WOMAN +XXVIII. AT FAULT +XXIX. BAFFLED, NOT BEATEN +XXX. STRICKEN DOWN +XXXI. ELLEN CARLEY'S TRIALS +XXXII. THE PADLOCKED DOOR AT WYNCOMB +XXXIII. "WHAT MUST BE SHALL BE" +XXXIV. DOUBTFUL INFORMATION +XXXV. BOUGHT WITH A PRICE +XXXVI. COMING ROUND +XXXVII. A FULL CONFESSION +XXXVIII. AN ILL-OMENED WEDDING +XXXIX. A DOMESTIC MYSTERY +XL. IN PURSUIT +XLI. OUTWARD BOUND +XLII. THE PLEASURES OF WYNCOMB +XLIII. MR. WHITELAW MAKES AN END OF THE MYSTERY +XLIV. AFTER THE FIRE +XLV. MR. WHITELAW MAKES HIS WILL +XLVI. ELLEN REGAINS HER LIBERTY +XLVII. CLOSING SCENES + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE COMMON FEVER. + + +A warm summer evening, with a sultry haze brooding over the level +landscape, and a Sabbath stillness upon all things in the village of +Lidford, Midlandshire. In the remoter corners of the old gothic church +the shadows are beginning to gather, as the sermon draws near its close; +but in the centre aisle and about the pulpit there is broad daylight +still shining-in from the wide western window, across the lower half of +which there are tall figures of the Evangelists in old stained glass. + +There are no choristers at Lidford, and the evening service is conducted +in rather a drowsy way; but there is a solemn air of repose about the +gray old church that should be conducive to tranquil thoughts and pious +meditations. Simple and earnest have been the words of the sermon, simple +and earnest seem the countenances of the congregation, looking reverently +upwards at the face of their pastor; and one might fancy, contemplating +that grand old church, so much too spacious for the needs of the little +flock gathered there to-night, that Lidford was a forgotten, +half-deserted corner of this earth, in which a man, tired of the press +and turmoil of the world, might find an almost monastic solitude and +calm. + +So thought a gentleman in the Squire's pew--a good-looking man of about +thirty, who was finishing his first Sunday at Lidford by devout +attendance at evening service. He had been thinking a good deal about +this quiet country life during the service, wondering whether it was not +the best life a man could live, after all, and thinking it all the +sweeter because of his own experience, which had lain chiefly in cities. + +He was a certain Mr. Gilbert Fenton, an Australian merchant, and was on a +visit to his sister, who had married the principal landowner in Lidford, +Martin Lister--a man whose father had been called "the Squire." The lady +sat opposite her brother in the wide old family pew to-night--a +handsome-looking matron, with a little rosy-cheeked damsel sitting by her +side--a damsel with flowing auburn hair, tiny hat and feather, and bright +scarlet stockings, looking very much as if she had walked out of a picture +by Mr. Millais. + +The congregation stood up to sing a hymn when the sermon was ended, and +Gilbert Fenton turned his face towards the opposite line of pews, in one of +which, very near him, there was a girl, at whom Mrs. Lister had caught her +brother looking very often, during the service just concluded. + +It was a face that a man could scarcely look upon once without finding +his glances wandering back to it afterwards; not quite a perfect face, +but a very bright and winning one. Large gray eyes, with a wonderful +light in them, under dark lashes and darker brows; a complexion that had +a dusky pallor, a delicate semi-transparent olive-tint that one seldom +sees out of a Spanish picture; a sweet rosy mouth, and a piquant little +nose of no particular order, made up the catalogue of this young lady's +charms. But in a face worth looking at there is always a something that +cannot be put into words; and the brightest and best attributes of this +face were quite beyond translation. It was a face one might almost call +"splendid"--there was such a light and glory about it at some moments. +Gilbert Fenton thought so to-night, as he saw it in the full radiance of +the western sunlight, the lips parted as the girl sang, the clear gray +eyes looking upward. + +She was not alone: a portly genial-looking old man stood by her side, and +accompanied her to the church-porch when the hymn was over. Here they +both lingered a moment to shake hands with Mrs. Lister, very much to +Gilbert Fenton's satisfaction. They walked along the churchyard-path +together, and Gilbert gave his sister's arm a little tug, which meant, +"Introduce me." + +"My brother Mr. Fenton, Captain Sedgewick, Miss Nowell." + +The Captain shook hands with Gilbert. "Delighted to know you, Mr. Fenton; +delighted to know any one belonging to Mrs. Lister. You are going to stop +down here for some time, I hope." + +"I fear not for very long, Captain Sedgewick. I am a business man, you +see, and can't afford to take a long holiday from the City." + +Mrs. Lister laughed. "My brother is utterly devoted to commercial +pursuits," she said; "I think he believes every hour wasted that he +spends out of his counting-house." + +"And yet I was thinking in church this evening, that a man's life might +be happier in such a place as this, drifting away in a kind of dreamy +idleness, than the greatest successes possible to commerce could ever +make it." + +"You would very soon be tired of your dreamy idleness," answered his +sister, "and sigh for your office and your club." + +"The country suits old people, who have played their part in life, and +made an end of it," said the Captain. "It suits my little girl here very +well, too," he added, with a fond glance at his companion; "she has her +birds and her flowers, and her books and music; and I don't think she +ever sighs for anything gayer than Lidford." + +"Never, uncle George," said the girl, slipping her hand through his arm. +And Gilbert Fenton saw that those two were very fond of each other. + +They came to the end of a shady winding lane at this moment, and Captain +Sedgewick and Miss Nowell wished Mrs. Lister and her brother +good-evening, and went away down the lane arm-in-arm. + +"What a lovely girl she is!" said Gilbert, when they were gone. + +"Lovely is rather a strong word, Gilbert," Mrs. Lister answered coldly; +"she is certainly pretty, but I hope you are not going to lose your heart +in that direction." + +"There is no fear of that. A man may admire a girl's face without being +in any danger of losing his heart. But why not in that direction, Belle? +Is there any special objection to the lady?" + +"Only that she is a nobody, without either money or position and I think +you ought to have both when you marry." + +"Thanks for the implied compliment; but I do not fancy that an +Australian merchant can expect to secure a wife of very exalted +position; and I am the last man in the world to marry for money." + +"I don't for a moment suppose you would marry any one you didn't like, +from mercenary considerations; but there is no reason you should make a +foolish match." + +"Of course not. I think it very doubtful whether I shall ever marry at +all. I am just the kind of man to go down to my grave a bachelor." + +"Why so, Gilbert?" + +"Well, I can hardly tell you, my dear. Perhaps I am rather difficult to +please--just a little stony-hearted and invulnerable. I know that since I +was a boy, and got over my schoolboy love affairs, I have never seen the +woman who could touch my heart. I have met plenty of pretty women, and +plenty of brilliant women, of course, in society; and have admired them, +and there an end. I have never seen a woman whose face impressed me so +much at first sight as the face of your friend, Miss Nowell." + +"I am very sorry for that." + +"But why, Belle?" + +"Because the girl is a nobody--less than nobody. There is an unpleasant +kind of mystery about her birth." + +"How is that? Her uncle, Captain Sedgewick, seems to be a gentleman." + +"Captain Sedgewick is very well, but he is not her uncle; he adopted her +when she was a very little girl." + +"But who are her people, and how did she fall into his hands?" + +"I have never heard that. He is not very fond of talking about the +subject. When we first came to know them, he told us that Marian was only +his adopted niece; and he has never told us any more than that." + +"She is the daughter of some friend, I suppose. They seem very much +attached to each other." + +"Yes, she is very fond of him, and he of her. She is an amiable girl; I +have nothing to say against her--but----" + +"But what, Belle?" + +"I shouldn't like you to fall in love with her." + +"But I should, mamma!" cried the damsel in scarlet stockings, who had +absorbed every word of the foregoing conversation. "I should like uncle +Gil to love Marian just as I love her. She is the dearest girl in the +world. When we had a juvenile party last winter, it was Marian who +dressed the Christmas-tree--every bit; and she played the piano for us +all the evening, didn't she, mamma?" + +"She is very good-natured, Lucy; but you mustn't talk nonsense; and you +ought not to listen when your uncle and I are talking. It is very rude." + +"But I can't help hearing you, mamma." + +They were at home by this time, within the grounds of a handsome +red-brick house of the early Georgian era, which had been the property of +the Listers ever since it was built. Without, the gardens were a picture +of neatness and order; within, everything was solid and comfortable: the +furniture of a somewhat ponderous and exploded fashion, but handsome +withal, and brightened here and there by some concession to modern +notions of elegance or ease--a dainty little table for books, a luxurious +arm-chair, and so on. + +Martin Lister was a gentleman chiefly distinguished by good-nature, +hospitable instincts, and an enthusiastic devotion to agriculture. There +were very few things in common between him and his brother-in-law the +Australian merchant, but they got on very well together for a short time. +Gilbert Fenton pretended to be profoundly interested in the thrilling +question of drainage, deep or superficial, and seemed to enter +unreservedly into every discussion of the latest invention or improvement +in agricultural machinery; and in the mean time he really liked the +repose of the country, and appreciated the varying charms of landscape +and atmosphere with a fervour unfelt by the man who had been born and +reared amidst those pastoral scenes. + +The two men smoked their cigars together in a quietly companionable +spirit, strolling about the gardens and farm, dropping out a sentence now +and then, and anon falling into a lazy reverie, each pondering upon his +own affairs--Gilbert meditating transactions with foreign houses, risky +bargains with traders of doubtful solvency, or hazardous investments in +stocks, as the case might be; the gentleman farmer ruminating upon the +chances of a good harvest, or the probable value of his Scotch +short-horns. + +Mr. Lister had preferred lounging about the farm with a cigar in his +mouth to attendance at church upon this particular Sunday evening. He had +finished his customary round of inspection by this time, and was sitting +by one of the open windows of the drawing-room, with his body in one +luxurious chair, and his legs extended upon another, deep in the study of +the _Gardener's Chronicle_, which he flung aside upon the appearance +of his family. + +"Well, Toddlekins," he cried to the little girl, "I hope you were very +attentive to the sermon; listened for two, and made up for your lazy dad. +That's a vicarious kind of devotion that ought to be permitted +occasionally to a hard-working fellow like me.--I'm glad you've come back +to give us some tea, Belle. Don't go upstairs; let Susan carry up your +bonnet and shawl. It's nearly nine o'clock. Toddlekins wants her tea +before she goes to bed." + +"Lucy has had her tea in the nursery," said Mrs. Lister, as she took her +seat before the cups and saucers. + +"But she will have some more with papa," replied Martin, who had an +amiable knack of spoiling his children. There were only two--this bright +fair-haired Lucy, aged nine, and a sturdy boy of seven. + +They sipped their tea, and talked a little about who had been at church +and who had not been, and the room was filled with that atmosphere of +dulness which seems to prevail in such households upon a summer Sunday +evening; a kind of palpable emptiness which sets a man speculating how +many years he may have to live, and how many such Sundays he may have to +spend. He is apt to end by wondering a little whether life is really +worth the trouble it costs, when almost the best thing that can come of +it is a condition of comfortable torpor like this. + +Gilbert Fenton put down his cup and went over to one of the open windows. +It was nearly as dark as it was likely to be that midsummer night. A new +moon was shining faintly in the clear evening sky; and here and there a +solitary star shone with a tremulous brightness. The shadows of the trees +made spots of solemn darkness on the wide lawn before the windows, and a +warm faint sweetness came from the crowded flower-beds, where all the +flowers in this light were of one grayish silvery hue. + +"It's almost too warm an evening for the house," said Gilbert; "I think +I'll take a stroll." + +"I'd come with you, old fellow, but I've been all round the farm, and I'm +dead beat," said good-natured Martin Lister. + +"Thanks, Martin; I wouldn't think of disturbing you. You look the picture +of comfort in that easy-chair. I shall only stay long enough to finish a +cigar." + +He walked slowly across the lawn--a noble stretch of level greensward +with dark spreading cedars and fine old beeches scattered about it; he +walked slowly towards the gates, lighting his cigar as he went, and +thinking. He was thinking of his past life, and of his future. What was +it to be? A dull hackneyed course of money-making, chequered only by the +dreary vicissitudes of trade, and brightened only by such selfish +pleasures as constitute the recreations of a business man--an occasional +dinner at Blackwall or Richmond, a week's shooting in the autumn, a +little easy-going hunting in the winter, a hurried scamper over some of +the beaten continental roads, or a fortnight at a German spa? These had +been his pleasures hitherto, and he had found life pleasant enough. +Perhaps he had been too busy to question the pleasantness of these +things. It was only now that he found himself away from the familiar +arena of his daily life, with neither employment nor distraction, that +he was able to look back upon his career deliberately, and ask himself +whether it was one that he could go on living without weariness for the +remainder of his days. + +He had been at this time a little more than seven years in business. He +had been bred-up with no expectation of ever having to take his place in +the counting-house, had been educated at Eton and Oxford, and had been +taught to anticipate a handsome fortune from his father. All these +expectations had been disappointed by Mr. Fenton's sudden death at a +period of great commercial disturbance. The business was found in a state +of entanglement that was very near insolvency; and wise friends told +Gilbert Fenton that the only hope of coming well out of these +perplexities lay with himself. The business was too good to be +sacrificed, and the business was all his father had left behind him, with +the exception of a houseful of handsome furniture, two or three +carriages, and a couple of pairs of horses, which were sold by auction +within a few weeks of the funeral. + +Gilbert Fenton took upon himself the management of the business. He had a +clear comprehensive intellect, which adapted itself very easily to +commerce. He put his shoulder to the wheel with a will, and worked for +the first three years of his business career as it is not given to many +men to work in the course of their lives. By that time the ship had been +steered clear of all rocks and quicksands, and rode the commercial waters +gallantly. Gilbert was not a rich man, but was in a fair way to become a +rich man; and the name of Fenton stood as high as in the palmiest days of +his father's career. + +His sister had fortunately married Martin Lister some years before her +father's death, and had received her dowry at the time of her marriage. +Gilbert had only himself to work for. At first he had worked for the sake +of his dead father's honour and repute; later he fell into a groove, like +other men, and worked for the love of money-making--not with any sordid +love of money, but with that natural desire to accumulate which grows out +of a business career. + +To-night he was in an unusually thoughtful humour, and inclined to weigh +things in the balance with a doubtfulness as to their value which was new +to him. The complete idleness and emptiness of his life in the country +had made him meditative. Was it worth living, that monotonous business +life of his? Would not the time soon come in which its dreariness would +oppress him as the dulness of Lidford House had oppressed him to-night? +His youth was fast going--nay, had it not indeed gone from him for ever? +had not youth left him all at once when he began his commercial +career?--and the pleasures that had been fresh enough within the last few +years were rapidly growing stale. He knew the German spas, the +pine-groves where the band played, the gambling-saloons and their +company, by heart, though he had never stayed more than a fortnight at +any one of them. He had exhausted Brittany and the South of France in +these rapid scampers; skimmed the cream of their novelty, at any rate. He +did not care very much for field-sports, and hunted and shot in a +jog-trot safe kind of way, with a view to the benefit of his health, +which savoured of old bachelorhood. And as for the rest of his +pleasures--the social rubber at his club, the Blackwall or Richmond +dinners--it seemed only custom that made them agreeable. + +"If I had gone to the Bar, as I intended to do before my father's death, +I should have had an object in life," he thought, as he puffed slowly at +his cigar; "but a commercial man has nothing to hope for in the way of +fame--nothing to work for except money. I have a good mind to sell the +business, now that it is worth selling, and go in for the Bar after all, +late as it is." + +He had thought of this more than once; but he knew the fancy was a +foolish one, and that his friends would laugh at him for his folly. + +He was beyond the grounds of Lidford House by this time, sauntering +onward in the fair summer night; not indifferent to the calm loveliness +of the scene around him, only conscious that there was some void within +himself which these things could not fill. He walked along the road by +which he and his sister had come back from church, and turned into the +lane at the end of which Captain Sedgewick had bidden them good night. He +had been down this lane before to-night, and knew that it was one of the +prettiest walks about Lidford; so there was scarcely anything strange in +the fact that he should choose this promenade for his evening saunter. + +The rustic way, wide enough for a wagon, and with sloping grassy banks, +and tall straggling hedges, full of dog-roses and honeysuckle, led +towards a river--a fair winding stream, which was one of the glories of +Lidford. A little before one came to the river, the lane opened upon a +green, where there was a mill, and a miller's cottage, a rustic inn, and +two or three other houses of more genteel pretensions. + +Gilbert Fenton wondered which of these was the habitation of Captain +Sedgewick, concluding that the half-pay officer and his niece must needs +live in one of them. He reconnoitred them as he went by the low +garden-fences, over which he could see the pretty lawns and flower-beds, +with clusters of evergreens here and there, and a wealth of roses and +seringa. One of them, the prettiest and most secluded, was also the +smallest; a low white-walled cottage, with casement windows above, and +old-fashioned bow-windows below, and a porch overgrown with roses. The +house lay back a little way from the green; and there was a tiny brook +running beside the holly hedge that bounded the garden, spanned by a +little rustic bridge before the gate. + +Pausing just beside this bridge, Mr. Fenton heard the joyous barking of a +dog, and caught a brief glimpse of a light muslin dress flitting across +the little lawn at one side of the cottage While he was wondering about +the owner of this dress, the noisy dog came rushing towards the gate, and +in the next moment a girlish figure appeared in the winding path that +went in and out among the flower-beds. + +Gilbert Fenton knew that tall slim figure very well. He had guessed +rightly, and this low white-walled cottage was really Captain +Sedgewick's. It seemed to him as if a kind of instinct brought him to +that precise spot. + +Miss Nowell came to the gate, and stood there looking out, with a Skye +terrier in her arms. Gilbert drew back a little, and flung his cigar into +the brook. She had not seen him yet. Her looks were wandering far away +across the green, as if in search of some one. + +Gilbert Fenton stood quite still watching her. She looked even prettier +without her bonnet than she had looked in the church, he thought: the +rich dark-brown hair gathered in a great knot at the back of the graceful +head; the perfect throat circled by a broad black ribbon, from which +there hung an old-fashioned gold cross; the youthful figure set-off by +the girlish muslin dress, so becoming in its utter simplicity. + +He could not stand there for ever looking at her, pleasant as it might be +to him to contemplate the lovely face; so he made a little movement at +last, and came a few steps nearer to the gate. + +"Good-evening once more, Miss Nowell," he said. + +She looked up at him, surprised by his sudden appearance, but in no +manner embarrassed. + +"Good-evening, Mr. Fenton. I did not see you till this moment. I was +looking for my uncle. He has gone out for a little stroll while he smokes +his cigar, and I expect him home every minute." + +"I have been indulging in a solitary cigar myself," answered Gilbert. +"One is apt to be inspired with an antipathy to the house on this kind of +evening. I left the Listers yawning over their tea-cups, and came out for +a ramble. The aspect of the lane at which we parted company this evening +tempted me down this way. What a pretty house you have! Do you know I +guessed that it was yours before I saw you." + +"Indeed! You must have quite a talent for guessing." + +"Not in a general way; but there is a fitness in things. Yes, I felt sure +that this was your house." + +"I am glad you like it," she answered simply. "Uncle George and I are +very fond of it. But it must seem a poor little place to you after +Lidford House." + +"Lidford House is spacious, and comfortable, and commonplace. One could +hardly associate the faintest touch of romance with such a place. But +about this one might fancy anything. Ah, here is your uncle, I see." + +Captain Sedgewick came towards them, surprised at seeing Mr. Fenton, with +whom he shook hands again very cordially, and who repeated his story +about the impossibility of enduring to stop in the house on such a night. + +The Captain insisted on his going in-doors with them, however; and he +exhibited no disinclination to linger in the cottage drawing-room, though +it was only about a fourth of the size of that at Lidford House. It +looked a very pretty room in the lamplight, with quaint old-fashioned +furniture, the freshest and most delicate chintz hangings and coverings +of chairs and sofas, and some valuable old china here and there. + +Captain Sedgewick had plenty to say for himself, and was pleased to find +an intelligent stranger to converse with. His health had failed him long +ago, and he had turned his back upon the world of action for ever; but he +was as cheerful and hopeful as if his existence had been the gayest +possible to man. + +Of course they talked a little of military matters, the changes that had +come about in the service--none of them changes for the better, according +to the Captain, who was a little behind the times in his way of looking +at these things. + +He ordered in a bottle of claret for his guest, and Gilbert Fenton found +himself seated by the open bow-window looking out at the dusky lawn and +drinking his wine, as much at home as if he had been a visitor at the +Captain's for the last ten years. Marian Nowell sat on the other side of +the room, with the lamplight shining on her dark-brown hair, and with +that much-to-be-envied Skye terrier on her lap. Gilbert glanced across at +her every now and then while he was talking with her uncle; and by and by +she came over to the window and stood behind the Captain's chair, with +her clasped hands resting upon his shoulder. + +Gilbert contrived to engage her in the conversation presently. He found +her quite able to discuss the airy topics which he started--the last new +volume of poems, the picture of the year, and so on. There was nothing +awkward or provincial in her manner; and if she did not say anything +particularly brilliant, there was good sense in all her remarks, and she +had a bright animated way of speaking that was very charming. + +She had lived a life of peculiar seclusion, rarely going beyond the +village of Lidford, and had contrived to find perfect happiness in that +simple existence. The Captain told Mr. Fenton this in the course of their +talk. + +"I have not been able to afford so much as a visit to London for my +darling," he said; "but I do not know that she is any the worse for her +ignorance of the great world. The grand point is that she should be +happy, and I thank God that she has been happy hitherto." + +"I should be very ungrateful if I were not, uncle George," the girl said +in a half whisper. + +Captain Sedgewick gave a thoughtful sigh, and was silent for a little +while after this; and then the talk went on again until the clock upon +the chimney-piece struck the half-hour after ten, and Gilbert Fenton rose +to say good-night. "I have stayed a most unconscionable time, I fear," he +said; "but I had really no idea it was so late." + +"Pray, don't hurry away," replied the Captain. "You ought to help me to +finish that bottle. Marian and I are not the earliest people in Lidford." + +Gilbert would have had no objection to loiter away another half-hour in +the bow-window, talking politics with the Captain, or light literature +with Miss Nowell, but he knew that his prolonged absence must have +already caused some amount of wonder at Lidford House; so he held firmly +to his good-night, shook hands with his new friends, holding Marian +Nowell's soft slender hand in his for the first time, and wondering at +the strange magic of her touch, and then went out into the dreamy +atmosphere of the summer night a changed creature. + +"Is this love at first sight?" he asked himself, as he walked homeward +along the rustic lane, where dog-roses and the starry flowers of the wild +convolvulus gleamed whitely in the uncertain light. "Is it? I should have +been the last of men to believe such a thing possible yesterday; and yet +to-night I feel as if that girl were destined to be the ruling influence +of my future life. Why is it? Because she is lovely? Surely not. Surely I +am not so weak a fool as to be caught by a beautiful face! And yet what +else do I know of her? Absolutely nothing. She may be the shallowest of +living creatures--the most selfish, the falsest, the basest. No; I do not +believe she could ever be false or unworthy. There is something noble in +her face--something more than mere beauty. Heaven knows, I have seen +enough of that in my time. I could scarcely be so childish as to be +bewitched by a pair of gray eyes and a rosy mouth; there must be +something more. And, after all, this is most likely a passing fancy, born +out of the utter idleness and dulness of this place. I shall go back to +London in a week or two, and forget Marian Nowell. Marian Nowell!" + +He repeated the name with unspeakable tenderness in his tone--a deeper +feeling than would have seemed natural to a passing fancy. It was more +like a symptom of sickening for life's great fever. + +It was close upon eleven when he made his appearance in his sister's +drawing-room, where Martin Lister was enjoying a comfortable nap, while +his wife stifled her yawns over a mild theological treatise. + +He had to listen to a good deal of wonderment about the length of his +absence, and was fain to confess to an accidental encounter with Captain +Sedgewick, which had necessitated his going into the cottage. + +"Why, what could have taken you that way, Gilbert?" + +"A truant fancy, I suppose, my dear. It is as good a way as any other." + +Mrs. Lister sighed, and shook her head doubtfully. "What fools you men +are," she said, "about a pretty face!" "Including Martin, Belle, when he +fell in love with your fair self?" + +"Martin did not stare me out of countenance in church, sir. But you have +almost kept us waiting for prayers." + +The servants came filing in. Martin Lister woke with a start, and Gilbert +Fenton knelt down among his sister's household to make his evening +orisons. But his thoughts were not easily to be fixed that night. They +wandered very wide of that simple family prayer, and made themselves into +a vision of the future, in which he saw his life changed and brightened +by the companionship of a fair young wife. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +MARIAN'S STORY. + + +The days passed, and there was no more dulness or emptiness for Gilbert +Fenton in his life at Lidford. He went every day to the white-walled +cottage on the green. It was easy enough to find some fresh excuse for +each visit--a book or a piece of music which he had recommended to Miss +Nowell, and had procured from London for her, or something of an equally +frivolous character. The Captain was always cordial, always pleased to +see him. His visits were generally made in the evening; and it was his +delight to linger over the pretty little round table by the bow-window, +drinking tea dispensed by Marian. The bright home-like room, the lovely +face turned so trustingly to his; these were the things which made that +fair vision of the future that haunted him so often now. He fancied +himself the master of some pretty villa in the suburbs--at Kingston or +Twickenham, perhaps--with a garden sloping down to the water's edge, a +lawn on which he and his wife and some chosen friend might sit after +dinner in the long summer evenings, sipping their claret or their tea, as +the case might be, and watching the last rosy glow of the sunset fade and +die upon the river. He fancied himself with this girl for his wife, and +the delight of going back from the dull dryasdust labours of his city +life to a home in which she would bid him welcome. He behaved with a due +amount of caution, and did not give the young lady any reason to suspect +the state of the case yet awhile. Marian was perfectly devoid of +coquetry, and had no idea that this gentleman's constant presence at the +cottage could have any reference to herself. He liked her uncle; what +more natural than that he should like that gallant soldier, whom Marian +adored as the first of mankind? And it was out of his liking for the +Captain that he came so often. + +The Captain, however, had not been slow to discover the real state of +affairs, and the discovery had given him unqualified satisfaction. For a +long time his quiet contentment in this pleasant, simple, easy-going life +had been clouded by anxious thoughts about Marian's future. His +death--should that event happen before she married--must needs leave her +utterly destitute. The little property from which his income was derived +was not within his power to bequeath. It would pass, upon his death, to +one of his nephews. The furniture of the cottage might realize a few +hundreds, which would most likely be, for the greater part, absorbed by +the debts of the year and the expenses of his funeral. Altogether, the +outlook was a dreary one, and the Captain had suffered many a sharp pang +in brooding over it. Lovely and attractive as Marian was, the chances of +an advantageous marriage were not many for her in such a place as +Lidford. It was natural, therefore, that Captain Sedgewick should welcome +the advent of such a man as Gilbert Fenton--a man of good position and +ample means; a thoroughly unaffected and agreeable fellow into the +bargain, and quite handsome enough to win any woman's heart, the Captain +thought. He watched the two young people together, after the notion of +this thing came into his mind, and about the sentiments of one of them he +felt no shadow of doubt. He was not quite so clear about the feelings of +the other. There was a perfect frankness and ease about Marian that +seemed scarcely compatible with the growth of that tender passion which +generally reveals itself by a certain amount of reserve, and is more +eloquent in silence than in speech. Marian seemed always pleased to see +Gilbert, always interested in his society; but she did not seem more than +this, and the Captain was sorely perplexed. + +There was a dinner-party at Lidford House during the second week of +Gilbert's acquaintance with these new friends, and Captain Sedgewick and +his adopted niece were invited. + +"They are pleasant people to have at a dinner-party," Mrs. Lister said, +when she discussed the invitation with her husband and brother; "so I +suppose they may as well come,--though I don't want to encourage your +folly, Gilbert." + +"My folly, as you are kind enough to call it, is not dependent on your +encouragement, Belle." + +"Then it is really a serious case, I suppose," said Martin. + +"I really admire Miss Nowell--more than I ever admired any one before, if +that is what you call a serious case, Martin." + +"Rather like it, I think," the other answered with a laugh. + +The dinner was a very quiet business--a couple of steady-going country +gentlemen, with their wives and daughters, a son or two more or less +dashing and sportsmanlike in style, the rector and his wife, Captain +Sedgewick and Miss Nowell. Gilbert had to take one of the portly matrons +in to dinner, and found himself placed at some distance from Miss Nowell +during the repast; but he was able to make up for this afterwards, when +he slipped out of the dining-room some time before the rest of the +gentlemen, and found Marian seated at the piano, playing a dreamy reverie +of Goria's, while the other ladies were gathered in a little knot, +discussing the last village scandal. + +He went over to the piano and stood by her while she played, looking fondly +down at the graceful head, and the white hands gliding gently over the +keys. He did not disturb her by much talk: it was quite enough happiness +for him to stand there watching her as she played. Later, when a couple of +whist-tables had been established, and the brilliantly-lighted room had +grown hot, these two sat together at one of the open windows, looking out +at the moonlit lawn; one of them supremely happy, and yet with a kind of +undefined sense that this supreme happiness was a dangerous thing--a thing +that it would be wise to pluck out of his heart, and have done with. + +"My holiday is very nearly over, Miss Nowell," Gilbert Fenton said by and +by. "I shall have to go back to London and the old commercial life, the +letter-writing and interview-giving, and all that kind of thing." + +"Your sister said you were very fond of the counting-house, Mr. Fenton," +she answered lightly. "I daresay, if you would only confess the truth, +you are heartily tired of the country, and will be delighted to resume +your business life." + +"I should never be tired of Lidford." + +"Indeed! and yet it is generally considered such a dull place." + +"It has not been so to me. It will always be a shining spot in my memory, +different and distinct from all other places." + +She looked up at him, wondering a little at his earnest tone, and their +eyes met--his full of tenderness, hers only shy and surprised. It was not +then that the words he had to speak could be spoken, and he let the +conversation drift into a general discussion of the merits of town or +country life. But he was determined that the words should be spoken very +soon. + +He went to the cottage next day, between three and four upon a drowsy +summer afternoon, and was so fortunate as to find Marian sitting under +one of the walnut-trees at the end of the garden reading a novel, with +her faithful Skye terrier in attendance. He seated himself on a low +garden-chair by her side, and took the book gently from her hand. + +"I have come to spoil your afternoon's amusement," he said. "I have not +many days more to spend in Lidford, you know, and I want to make the most +of a short time." + +"The book is not particularly interesting," Miss Nowell answered, +laughing. "I'll go and tell my uncle you are here. He is taking an +afternoon nap; but I know he'll be pleased to see you." + +"Don't tell him just yet," said Mr. Fenton, detaining her. "I have +something to say to you this afternoon,--something that it is wiser to +say at once, perhaps, though I have been willing enough to put off the +hour of saying it, as a man may well be when all his future life depends +upon the issue of a few words. I think you must know what I mean, Miss +Nowell. Marian, I think you can guess what is coming. I told you last +night how sweet Lidford had been to me." + +"Yes," she said, with a bright inquiring look in her eyes. "But what have +I to do with that?" + +"Everything. It is you who have made the little country village my +paradise. O Marian, tell me that it has not been a fool's paradise! My +darling, I love you with all my heart and soul, with an honest man's +first and only love. Promise that you will be my wife." + +He took the hand that lay loosely on her lap, and pressed it in both his +own. She withdrew it gently, and sat looking at him with a face that had +grown suddenly pale. + +"You do not know what you are asking," she said; "you cannot know. +Captain Sedgewick is not my uncle. He does not even know who my parents +were. I am the most obscure creature in the world." + +"Not one degree less dear to me because of that, Marian; only the dearer. +Tell me, my darling, is there any hope for me?" + +"I never thought----" she faltered; "I had no idea----" + +"That to know you was to love you. My life and soul, I have loved you +from the hour I first saw you in Lidford church. I was a doomed man from +that moment, Marian. O my dearest, trust me, and it shall go hard if I do +not make your future life a happy one. Granted that I am ten years--more +than ten years--your senior, that is a difference on the right side. I +have fought the battle of life, and have conquered, and am strong enough +to protect and shelter the woman I love. Come, Marian, I am waiting for a +word of hope." + +"And do you really love me?" she asked wonderingly. "It seems so strange +after so short a time." + +"I loved you from that first evening in the church, my dear." + +"I am very grateful to you," she said slowly, "and I am proud--I have +reason to be proud--of your preference. But I have known you such a short +time. I am afraid to give you any promise." + +"Afraid of me, or of yourself, Marian?" + +"Of myself." + +"In what way?" + +"I am only a foolish frivolous girl. You offer me so much more than I +deserve in offering me your love like this. I scarcely know if I have a +heart to give to any one. I know that I have never loved anybody except +my one friend and protector, my dear adopted uncle." + +"But you do not say that you cannot love me, Marian. Perhaps I have +spoken too soon, after all. It seems to me that I have known you for a +lifetime; but that is only a lover's fancy. I seem almost a stranger to +you, perhaps?" + +"Almost," she answered, looking at him with clear truthful eyes. + +"That is rather hard upon me, my dear. But I can wait. You do not know +how patient I can be." + +He began to talk of indifferent subjects after this, a little depressed +and disheartened by the course the interview had taken. He felt that he +had been too precipitate. What was there in a fortnight's intimacy to +justify such a step, except to himself, with whom time had been measured +by a different standard since he had known Marian Nowell? He was angry +with his own eagerness, which had brought upon him this semi-defeat. + +Happily Miss Nowell had not told him that his case was hopeless, had not +forbidden him to approach the subject again; nor had she exhibited any +involuntary sign of aversion to him. Surprise had appeared the chief +sentiment caused by his revelation. Surprise was natural to such girlish +inexperience; and after surprise had passed away, more tender feelings +might arise, a latent tenderness unsuspected hitherto. + +"I think a woman can scarcely help returning a man's love, if he is only +as thoroughly in earnest as I am," Gilbert Fenton said to himself, as he +sat under the walnut-trees trying to talk pleasantly, and to ignore the +serious conversation which had preceded that careless talk. + +He saw the Captain alone next day, and told him what had happened. George +Sedgewick listened to him with profound attention and a grave anxious +face. + +"She didn't reject you?" he said, when Gilbert had finished his story. + +"Not in plain words. But there was not much to indicate hope. And yet I +cling to the fancy that she will come to love me in the end. To think +otherwise would be utter misery to me. I cannot tell you how dearly I +love her, and how weak I am about this business. It seems contemptible +for a man to talk about a broken heart; but I shall carry an empty one to +my grave unless I win Marian Nowell for my wife." + +"You shall win her!" cried the Captain energetically. "You are a noble +fellow, sir, and will make her an excellent husband. She will not be so +foolish as to reject such a disinterested affection. Besides," he added, +hesitating a little, "I have a very shrewd notion that all this apparent +indifference is only shyness on my little girl's part, and that she loves +you." + +"You believe that!" cried Gilbert eagerly. + +"It is only guesswork on my part, of course. I am an old bachelor, you +see, and have had very little experience as to the signs and tokens of +the tender passion. But I will sound my little girl by and by. She will +be more ready to confess the truth to her old uncle than she would to +you, perhaps. I think you have been a trifle hasty about this affair. +There is so much in time and custom." + +"It is only a cold kind of love that grows out of custom," Gilbert +answered gloomily. "But I daresay you are right, and that it would have +been better for me to have waited." + +"You may hope everything, if you can only be patient," said the Captain. +"I tell you frankly, that nothing would make me happier than to see my +dear child married to a good man. I have had many dreary thoughts about +her future of late. I think you know that I have nothing to leave her." + +"I have never thought of that. If she were destined to inherit all the +wealth of the Rothschilds, she could be no dearer to me than she is." + +"Ah, what a noble thing true love is! And do you know that she is not +really my niece--only a poor waif that I adopted fourteen years ago?" + +"I have heard as much from her own lips. There is nothing, except some +unworthiness in herself, that could make any change in my estimation of +her." + +"Unworthiness in herself! You need never fear that. But I must tell you +Marian's story before this business goes any farther. Will you come and +smoke your cigar with me to-night? She is going to drink tea at a +neighbour's, and we shall be alone. They are all fond of her, poor +child." + +"I shall be very happy to come. And in the meantime, you will try and +ascertain the real state of her feelings without distressing her in any +way; and you will tell me the truth with all frankness, even if it is to +be a deathblow to all my hopes?" + +"Even if it should be that. But I do not fear such a melancholy result. I +think Marian is sensible enough to know the value of an honest man's +heart." + +Gilbert quitted the Captain in a more hopeful spirit than that in which +he had gone to the cottage that day. It was only reasonable that this man +should be the best judge of his niece's feelings. + +Left alone, George Sedgewick paced the room in a meditative mood, with +his hands thrust deep into his trousers-pockets, and his gray head bent +thoughtfully. + +"She must like him," he muttered to himself. "Why should not she like +him?--good-looking, generous, clever, prosperous, well-connected, and +over head and ears in love with her. Such a marriage is the very thing I +have been praying for. And without such a marriage, what would be her +fate when I am gone? A drudge and dependent in some middle-class family +perhaps--tyrannised over and tormented by a brood of vulgar children." + +Marian came in at the open window while he was still pacing to and fro +with a disturbed countenance. + +"My dear uncle, what is the matter?" she asked, going up to him and +laying a caressing hand upon his shoulder. "I know you never walk about +like that unless you are worried by something." + +"I am not worried to-day, my love; only a little perplexed," answered the +Captain, detaining the caressing little hand, and planting himself face +to face with his niece, in the full sunlight of the broad bow-window. +"Marian, I thought you and I had no secrets from each other?" + +"Secrets, uncle George!" + +"Yes, my dear. Haven't you something pleasant to tell your old +uncle--something that a girl generally likes telling? You had a visitor +yesterday afternoon while I was asleep." + +"Mr. Fenton." + +"Mr. Fenton. He has been here with me just now; and I know that he asked +you to be his wife." + +"He did, uncle George." + +"And you didn't refuse him, Marian?" + +"Not positively, uncle George. He took me so much by surprise, you see; +and I really don't know how to refuse any one; but I think I ought to +have made him understand more clearly that I meant no." + +"But why, my dear?" + +"Because I am sure I don't care about him as much as I ought to care. I +like him very well, you know, and think him clever and agreeable, and all +that kind of thing." + +"That will soon grow into a warmer feeling, Marian; at least I trust in +God that it will do so." + +"Why, dear uncle?" + +"Because I have set my heart upon this marriage. O Marian, my love, I +have never ventured to speak to you about your future--the days that must +come when I am dead and gone; and you can never know how many anxious +hours I have spent thinking of it. Such a marriage as this would secure +you happiness and prosperity in the years to come." + +She clung about him fondly, telling him she cared little what might +become of her life when he should be lost to her. _That_ grief must +needs be the crowning sorrow of her existence; and it would matter +nothing to her what might come afterwards. + +"But my dear love, 'afterwards' will make the greater part of your life. +We must consider these things seriously, Marian. A good man's affection +is not to be thrown away rashly. You have known Mr. Fenton a very short +time; and perhaps it is only natural you should think of him with +comparative indifference." + +"I did not say I was indifferent to him, uncle George; only that I do not +love him as he seems to love me. It would be a kind of sin to accept so +much and to give so little." + +"The love will come, Marian; I am sure that it will come." + +She shook her head playfully. + +"What a darling match-making uncle it is!" she said, and then kissed him +and ran away. + +She thought of Gilbert Fenton a good deal during the rest of that day; +thought that it was a pleasant thing to be loved so truly, and hoped that +she might always have him for her friend. When she went out to drink tea +in the evening his image went with her; and she found herself making +involuntary comparisons between a specimen of provincial youth whom she +encountered at her friend's house and Mr. Fenton, very much to the +advantage of the Australian merchant. + +While Marian Nowell was away at this little social gathering, Captain +Sedgewick and Gilbert Fenton sat under the walnut-trees smoking their +cigars, with a bottle of claret on a little iron table before them. + +"When I came back from India fourteen years ago on the sick-list," began +the Captain, "I went down to Brighton, a place I had been fond of in my +young days, to recruit. It was in the early spring, quite out of the +fashionable season, and the town was very empty. My lodgings were in a +dull street at the extreme east, leading away from the sea, but within +sight and sound of it. The solitude and quiet of the place suited me; and +I used to walk up and down the cliff in the dusk of evening enjoying the +perfect loneliness of the scene. The house I lived in was a comfortable +one, kept by an elderly widow who was a pattern of neatness and +propriety. There were no children; for some time no other lodgers; and +the place was as quiet as the grave. All this suited me very well. I +wanted rest, and I was getting it. + +"I had been at Brighton about a month, when the drawing-room floor over +my head was taken by a lady, and her little girl of about five years old. +I used to hear the child's feet pattering about the room; but she was not +a noisy child by any means; and when I did happen to hear her voice, it +had a very pleasant sound to me. The lady was an invalid, and was a good +deal of trouble, my landlady took occasion to tell me, as she had no +maid of her own. Her name was Nowell. + +"Soon after this I encountered her on the cliff one afternoon with her +little girl. The child and I had met once or twice before in the hall; +and her recognition of me led to a little friendly talk between me and +the mother. She was a fragile delicate-looking woman, who had once been +very pretty, but whose beauty had for the most part been worn away, +either by ill-health or trouble. She was very young, five-and-twenty at +the utmost. She told me that the little girl was her only child, and that +her husband was away from England, but that she expected his return +before long. + +"After this we met almost every afternoon; and I began to look out for +these meetings, and our quiet talk upon the solitary cliff, as the +pleasantest part of my day. There was a winning grace about this Mrs. +Nowell's manner that I had never seen in any other woman; and I grew to +be more interested in her than I cared to confess to myself. It matters +little now; and I may freely own how weak I was in those days. + +"I could see that she was very ill, and I did not need the ominous hints +of the landlady, who had contrived to question Mrs. Nowell's doctor, to +inspire me with the dread that she might never recover. I thought of her +a great deal, and watched the fading light in her eyes, and listened to +the weakening tones of her voice, with a sense of trouble that seemed +utterly disproportionate to the occasion. I will not say that I loved +her; neither the fact that she was another man's wife, nor the fact that +she was soon to die, was ever absent from my mind when I thought of her. +I will only say that she was more to me than any woman had ever been +before, or has ever been since. It was the one sentimental episode of my +life, and a very brief one. + +"The weeks went by, and her husband did not come. I think the trouble and +anxiety caused by his delay did a good deal towards hastening the +inevitable end; but she bore her grief very quietly, and never uttered a +complaint of him in my hearing. She paid her way regularly enough for a +considerable time, and then all at once broke down, and confessed to the +landlady that she had not a shilling more in the world. The woman was a +hard creature, and told her that if that was the case, she must find some +other lodgings, and immediately. I heard this, not from Mrs. Nowell, but +from the landlady, who seemed to consider her conduct thoroughly +justified by the highest code of morals. She was a lone unprotected +woman, and how was she to pay her rent and taxes if her best floor was +occupied by a non-paying tenant? + +"I was by no means a rich man; but I could not endure to think of that +helpless dying creature thrust out into the streets; and I told my +landlady that I would be answerable for Mrs. Nowell's rent, and for the +daily expenses incurred on her behalf. Mr. Nowell would in all +probability appear in good time to relieve me from the responsibility, +but in the mean while that poor soul upstairs was not to be distressed. I +begged that she might know nothing of this undertaking on my part. + +"It was not long after this when our daily meetings on the cliff came to +an end. Mild as the weather was by this time, Mrs. Nowell's doctor had +forbidden her going out any longer. I knew that she had no maid to send +out with the child, so I sent the servant up to ask her if she would +trust the little one for a daily walk with me. This she was very pleased +to do, and Marian became my dear little companion every afternoon. She +had taken to me, as the phrase goes, from the very first. She was the +gentlest, most engaging child I had ever met with--a little grave for her +years, and tenderly thoughtful of others. + +"One evening Mrs. Nowell sent for me. I went up to the drawing-room +immediately, and found her sitting in an easy-chair propped up by +pillows, and very much changed for the worse since I had seen her last. +She told me that she had discovered the secret of my goodness to her, as +she called it, from the landlady, and that she had sent for me to thank +me. + +"'I can give you nothing but thanks and blessings,' she said, 'for I am +the most helpless creature in this world. I suppose my husband will come +here before I die, and will relieve you from the risk you have taken for +me; but he can never repay you for your goodness.' + +"I told her to give herself no trouble on my account; but I could not +help saying, that I thought her husband had behaved shamefully in not +coming to England to her long ere this. + +"'He knows that you are ill, I suppose?' I said. + +"'O yes, he knows that. I was ill when he sent me home. We had been +travelling about the Continent almost ever since our marriage. He married +me against his father's will, and lost all chance of a great fortune by +doing so. I did not know how much he sacrificed at the time, or I should +never have consented to his losing so much for my sake. I think the +knowledge of what he had lost came between us very soon. I know that his +love for me has grown weaker as the years went by, and that I have been +little better than a burden to him. I could never tell you how lonely my +life has been in those great foreign cities, where there seems such +perpetual gaiety and pleasure. I think I must have died of the solitude +and dulness--the long dreary summer evenings, the dismal winter days--if +it had not been for my darling child. She has been all the world to me. +And, O God!' she cried, with a look of anguish that went to my heart, +'what will become of her when I am dead, and she is left to the care of a +selfish dissipated man?' + +"'You need never fear that she will be without one friend while I live,' +I said. 'Little Marian is very dear to me, and I shall make it my +business to watch over her career as well as I can.' + +"The poor soul clasped my hand, and pressed her feverish lips to it in a +transport of gratitude. What a brute a man must have been who could +neglect such a woman! + +"After this I went up to her room every evening, and read to her a +little, and cheered her as well as I could; but I believe her heart was +broken. The end came very suddenly at last. I had intended to question +her about her husband's family; but the subject was a difficult one to +approach, and I had put it off from day to day, hoping that she might +rally a little, and would be in a better condition to discuss business +matters. + +"She never did rally. I was with her when she died, and her last act was +to draw her child towards her with her feeble arms and lay my hand upon +the little one's head, looking up at me with sorrowful pleading eyes. She +was quite speechless then, but I knew what the look meant, and answered +it. + +"'To the end of my life, my dear,' I said, 'I shall love and cherish +her--to the end of my life.' + +"After this the child fell asleep in my arms as I sat by the bedside +sharing the long melancholy watch with the landlady, who behaved very +well at this sorrowful time. We sat in the quiet room all night, the +little one wrapped in a shawl and nestled upon my breast. In the early +summer morning Lucy Nowell died, very peacefully; and I carried Marian +down to the sofa in the parlour, and laid her there still asleep. She +cried piteously for her mother when she awoke, and I had to tell her that +which it is so hard to tell a child. + +"I wrote to Mr. Nowell at an address in Brussels which I found at the top +of his last letter to his wife. No answer came. I wrote again, after a +little while, with the same result; and, in the mean time, the child had +grown fonder of me and dearer to me every day. I had hired a nursemaid +for her, and had taken an upper room for her nursery; but she spent the +greater part of her life with me, and I began to fancy that Providence +intended I should keep her with me for the rest of her days. She told me, +in her innocent childish way, that papa had never loved her as her mamma +did. He had been always out of doors till very, very late at night. She +had crept from her little bed sometimes when it was morning, quite light, +and had found mamma in the sitting-room, with no fire, and the candles +all burnt out, waiting for papa to come home. + +"I put an advertisement, addressed to Mr. Percival Nowell, in the +_Times_ and in _Galignani_, for I felt that the child's future might +depend upon her father's acknowledgment of her in the present; but no +reply came to these advertisements, and I settled in my own mind that +this Nowell was a scoundrel, who had deliberately deserted his wife and +child. + +"The possessions of the poor creature who was gone were of no great +value. There were some rather handsome clothes and a small collection of +jewelry--some of it modern, the rest curious and old-fashioned. These +latter articles I kept religiously, believing them to be family relics. +The clothes and the modern trinkets I caused to be sold, and the small +sum realised for them barely paid the expense of the funeral and grave. +The arrears of rent and all other arrears fell upon me. I paid them, and +then left Brighton with the child and nurse. I was born not twenty miles +from this place, and I had a fancy for ending my days in my native +county; so I came down to this part of the world, and looked about me a +little, living in farm-house lodgings here and there, until I found this +cottage to let one day, and decided upon settling at Lidford. And now you +know the whole story of Marian's adoption, Mr. Fenton. How happy we have +been together, or what she has been to me since that time, I could never +tell you." + +"The story does you credit, sir; and I honour you for your goodness," +said Gilbert Fenton. + +"Goodness, pshaw!" cried the Captain, impetuously; "it has been a mere +matter of self-indulgence on my part. The child made herself necessary to +me from the very first. I was a solitary man, a confirmed bachelor, with +every prospect of becoming a hard, selfish old fogey. Marian Nowell has +been the sunshine of my life!" + +"You never made any farther discoveries about Mr. Nowell?" + +"Never. I have sometimes thought, that I ought to have made some stronger +efforts to place myself in communication with him. I have thought this, +especially when brooding upon the uncertainties of my darling's future. +From the little Mrs. Nowell told me about her marriage, I had reason to +believe her husband's father must have been a rich man. He might have +softened towards his grandchild, in spite of his disapproval of the +marriage. I sometimes think I ought to have sought out the grandfather. +But, you see, it would have been uncommonly difficult to set about this, +in my complete ignorance as to who or what he was." + +"Very difficult. And if you had found him, the chances are that he would +have set his face against the child. Marian Nowell will have no need to +supplicate for protection from an indifferent father or a hard-hearted +grandfather, if she will be my wife. + +"Heaven grant that she may love you as you deserve to be loved by her!" +Captain Sedgewick answered heartily. + +He thought it would be the best thing that could happen to his darling to +become this young man's wife, and he had a notion that a simple, +inexperienced girl could scarcely help responding to the hopes of such a +lover. To his mind Gilbert Fenton seemed eminently adapted to win a +woman's heart. He forgot the fatality that belongs to these things, and +that a man may have every good gift, and yet just miss the magic power to +touch one woman's heart. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +ACCEPTED. + + +Mr. Fenton lingered another week at Lidford, with imminent peril to the +safe conduct of affairs at his offices in Great St. Helens. He could not +tear himself away just yet. He felt that he must have some more definite +understanding of his position before he went back to London; and in the +meantime he pondered with a dangerous delight upon that sunny vision of a +suburban villa to which Marian should welcome him when his day's work was +done. + +He went every day to the cottage, and he bore himself in no manner like a +rejected lover. He was indeed very hopeful as to the issue of his wooing. +He knew that Marian Nowell's heart was free, that there was no rival +image to be displaced before his own could reign there, and he thought +that it must go hard with him if he did not win her love. + +So Marian saw him every day, and had to listen to the Captain's praises +of him pretty frequently during his absence. And Captain Sedgewick's talk +about Gilbert Fenton generally closed with a regretful sigh, the meaning +of which had grown very clear to Marian. + +She thought about her uncle's words and looks and sighs a good deal in +the quiet of her own room. What was there she would not do for the love +of that dearest and noblest of men? Marry a man she disliked? No, that +was a sin from which the girl's pure mind would have recoiled +instinctively. But she did like Gilbert Fenton--loved him perhaps--though +she had never confessed as much to herself. + +This calm friendship might really be love after all; not quite such love +as she had read of in novels and poems, where the passion was always +rendered desperate by the opposing influence of adverse circumstances and +unkind kindred; but a tranquil sentiment, a dull, slow, smouldering +fire, that needed only some sudden wind of jealousy or misfortune to fan +it into a flame. + +She knew that his society was pleasant to her, that she would miss him +very much when he left Lidford; and when she tried to fancy him +reconciled to her rejection of him, and returning to London to transfer +his affections to some other woman, the thought was very obnoxious to +her. He had not flattered her, he had been in no way slavish in his +attentions to her; but he had surrounded her with a kind of atmosphere of +love and admiration, the charm of which no girl thus beloved for the +first time in her life could be quite proof against. + +Thus the story ended, as romances so begun generally do end. There came a +summer twilight, when Gilbert Fenton found himself once more upon the +dewy lawn under the walnut-trees alone with Marian Nowell. He repeated +his appeal in warmer, fonder tones than before, and with a kind of +implied certainty that the answer must be a favourable one. It was +something like taking the fortress by storm. He had his arm round her +slim waist, his lips upon her brow, before she had time to consider what +her answer ought to be. + +"My darling, I cannot live without you!" he said, in a low passionate +voice. "Tell me that you love me." + +She disengaged herself gently from his embrace, and stood a little way +from him, with shy, downcast eyelids. + +"I think I do," she said slowly. + +"That is quite enough, Marian!" cried Gilbert, joyously. "I knew you were +destined to be my wife." + +He drew her hand through his arm and took her back to the house, where +the Captain was sitting in his favourite arm-chair by the window, with a +reading lamp on the little table by his side, and the _Times_ newspaper +in his hand. + +"Your niece has brought you a nephew, sir," said Gilbert. + +The Captain threw aside his paper, and stretched out both his hands to +the young man. + +"My dear boy, I cannot tell you how happy this makes me!" he cried. +"Didn't I promise you that all would go well if you were patient? My +little girl is wise enough to know the value of a good man's love." + +"I am very grateful, uncle George," faltered Marian, taking shelter +behind the Captain's chair; "only I don't feel that I am worthy of so +much thought." + +"Nonsense, child; not worthy! You are the best girl in Christendom, and +will make the brightest and truest wife that ever made a man's home dear +to him." + +The evening went on very happily after that: Marian at the piano, playing +plaintive dreamy melodies with a tender expressive touch; Gilbert sitting +close at hand, watching the face he loved so dearly--an evening in +Paradise, as it seemed to Mr. Fenton. He went homewards in the moonlight +a little before eleven o'clock, thinking of his new happiness--such +perfect happiness, without a cloud. The bright suburban villa was no +longer an airy castle, perhaps never to be realized; it was a delightful +certainty. He began to speculate as to the number of months that must +needs pass before he could make Marian his wife. There was no reason for +delay. He was well-off, his own master, and it was only her will that +could hinder the speedy realization of that sweet domestic dream which +had haunted him lately. + +He told his sister what had happened next morning, when Martin Lister had +left the breakfast table to hold audience with his farm bailiff, and +those two were together alone. He was a little tired of having his visits +to the cottage criticised in Mrs. Lister's somewhat supercilious manner, +and was very glad to be able to announce that Marian Nowell was to be his +wife. + +"Well, Gilbert," exclaimed the matron, after receiving his tidings with +tightly-closed lips and a generally antagonistic demeanour, "I can only +say, that if you must marry at all--and I am sure I thought you had quite +settled down as a bachelor, with your excellent lodgings in Wigmore +Street, and every possible comfort in life--I think you might have +chosen much better than this. Of course, I don't want to be rude or +unpleasant; but I cannot help saying, that I consider any man a fool who +allows himself to be captivated by a pretty face." + +"I have found a great deal more than a pretty face to admire in Marian +Nowell." + +"Indeed! Can you name any other advantages which she possesses?" + +"Amiability, good sense, and a pure and refined nature." + +"What warrant have you for all those things? Mind, Gilbert, I like the +girl well enough; I have nothing to say against her; but I cannot help +thinking it a most unfortunate match for you." + +"How unfortunate?" + +"The girl's position is so very doubtful." + +"Position!" echoed Gilbert impatiently. "That sort of talk is one of the +consequences of living in such a place as Lidford. You talk about +position, as if I were a prince of the blood-royal, whose marriage would +be registered in every almanac in the kingdom." + +"If she were really the Captain's niece, it would be a different thing," +harped Mrs. Lister, without noticing this contemptuous interruption; "but +to marry a girl about whose relations nobody knows anything! I suppose +even you have not been told who her father and mother were." + +"I know quite enough about them. Captain Sedgewick has been candour +itself upon the subject." + +"And are the father and mother both dead?" + +"Miss Nowell's mother has been dead many years." + +"And her father?" + +"Captain Sedgewick does not know whether he is dead or living." + +"Ah!" exclaimed Mrs. Lister with a profound sigh; "I should have thought +as much. And you are really going to marry a girl with this disreputable +mystery about her belongings?" + +"There is nothing either disreputable or mysterious. People are sometimes +lost sight of in this world. Mr. Nowell was a bad husband and an +indifferent father, and Captain Sedgewick adopted his daughter; that is +all." + +"And no doubt, after you are married, this Mr. Nowell will make his +appearance some day, and be a burden upon you." + +"I am not afraid of that. And now, Belle, as this is a subject upon which +we don't seem very likely to agree, I think we had better drop it. I +considered it only right to tell you of my engagement." + +On this his sister softened a little, and promised Gilbert that she would +do her best to be kind to Miss Nowell. + +"You won't be married for some time to come, of course," she said. + +"I don't know about that, Belle. There is nothing to prevent a speedy +marriage." + +"O, surely you will wait a twelvemonth, at least. You have known Marian +Nowell such a short time. You ought to put her to the test in some manner +before you make her your wife." + +"I have no occasion to put her to any kind of test. I have a most +profound and perfect belief in her goodness." + +"Why, Gilbert, this is utter infatuation--about a girl whom you have only +known a little more than three weeks!" + +It does seem difficult for a matter-of-fact, reasonable matron, whose +romantic experiences are things of the remote past, to understand this +sudden trust in, and all-absorbing love for, an acquaintance of a brief +summer holiday. But Gilbert Fenton believed implicitly in his own +instinct, and was not to be shaken. + +He went back to town by the afternoon express that day, for he dared not +delay his return any longer. He went back regretfully enough to the +dryasdust business life, after spending the greater part of the morning +under the walnut-trees in Captain Sedgewick's garden, playing with Fritz +the Skye terrier, and talking airy nonsense to Marian, while she sat in a +garden-chair hemming silk handkerchiefs for her uncle, and looking +distractingly pretty in a print morning dress with tiny pink rosebuds on +a white ground, and a knot of pink ribbon fastening the dainty collar. He +ventured to talk a little about the future too; painting, with all the +enthusiasm of Claude Melnotte, and a great deal more sincerity, the home +which he meant to create for her. + +"You will have to come to town to choose our house, you know, Marian," he +said, after a glowing description of such a villa as never yet existed, +except in the florid imagination of an auctioneer; "I could never venture +upon such an important step without you: apart from all sentimental +considerations, a woman's judgment is indispensable in these matters. The +house might be perfection in every other point, and there might be no +boiler, or no butler's pantry, or no cupboard for brooms on the landing, +or some irremediable omission of that kind. Yes, Marian, your uncle must +bring you to town for a week or so of house-hunting, and soon." + +She looked at him with a startled expression. + +"Soon!" she repeated. + +"Yes, dear, very soon. There is nothing in the world to hinder our +marriage. Why should we delay longer than to make all necessary +arrangements? I long so for my new home, Marian, I have never had a home +in my life since I was a boy." + +"O Mr. Fenton--Gilbert,"--she pronounced his Christian name shyly, and in +obedience to his reproachful look,--"remember how short a time we have +known each other. It is much too soon to talk or think of marriage yet. I +want you to have plenty of leisure to consider whether you really care +for me, whether it isn't only a fancy that will die out when you go back +to London. And we ought to have time to know each other very well, +Gilbert, to be quite sure we are suited to one another." + +This seemed an echo of his sister's reasoning, and vexed him a little. + +"Have _you_ any fear that we shall not suit each other, Marian?" he asked +anxiously. + +"I know that you are only too good for me," she answered. Upon which +Gilbert hindered the hemming of the Captain's handkerchiefs by stooping +down to kiss the little hands at work upon them. And then the talk +drifted back to easier subjects, and he did not again press that question +as to the date of the marriage. + +At last the time came for going to the station. He had arranged for Mr. +Lister's gig to call for him at the cottage, so that he might spend every +possible moment with Marian. And at three o'clock the gig appeared, +driven by Martin Lister himself, and Gilbert was fain to say good-bye. +His last lingering backward glance showed him the white figure under the +walnut-trees, and a little hand waving farewell. + +How empty and dreary his comfortable bachelor lodgings seemed to him that +night when he had dined, and sat by the open window smoking his solitary +cigar, listening to the dismal street-noises, and the monotonous roll of +ceaseless wheels yonder in Oxford-street; not caring to go out to his +club, caring still less for opera or theatre, or any of the old ways +whereby he had been wont to dispose of his evenings! + +His mind was full of Marian Nowell. All that was grave and earnest in his +nature gave force to this his first love. He had had flirtations in the +past, of course; but they had been no more than flirtations, and at +thirty his heart was as fresh and inexperienced as a boy's. It pleased +him to think of Marian's lonely position. Better, a hundred times better, +that she should be thus, than fettered by ties which might come between +them and perfect union. The faithful and generous protector of her +childhood would of necessity always claim her love; but beyond this one +affection, she would be Gilbert's, and Gilbert's only. There would be no +mother, no sisters, to absorb her time and distract her thoughts from her +husband, perhaps prejudice her against him. Domestic life for those two +must needs be free from all the petty jars, the overshadowing clouds no +bigger than a man's hand, forerunners of tempest, which Mr. Fenton had +heard of in many households. + +He was never weary of thinking about that life which was to be. +Everything else he thought of was now considered only in relation to that +one subject. He applied himself to business with a new ardour; never +before had he been so anxious to grow rich. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +JOHN SALTRAM. + + +The offices of Fenton and Co. in Great St. Helens were handsome, +prosperous-looking premises, consisting of two large outer rooms, where +half-a-dozen indefatigable clerks sat upon high stools before ponderous +mahogany desks, and wrote industriously all day long; and an inner and +smaller apartment, where there was a faded Turkey-carpet instead of the +kamptulicon that covered the floor of the outer offices, a couple of +capacious, red-morocco-covered arm-chairs, and a desk of substantial and +somewhat legal design, on which Gilbert Fenton was wont to write the more +important letters of the house. In all the offices there were iron safes, +which gave one a notion of limitless wealth stored away in the shape of +bonds and bills, if not actual gold and bank-notes; and upon all the +walls there were coloured and uncoloured engravings of ships framed and +glazed, and catalogues of merchandise that had been sold, or was to be +sold, hanging loosely one on the other. Besides these, there were a great +many of those flimsy papers that record the state of things on 'Change, +hanging here and there on the brass rails of the desks, from little hooks +in the walls, and in any other available spot. And in all the premises +there was an air of business and prosperity, which seemed to denote that +Fenton and Co. were travelling at a rapid pace on the high-road to +fortune. + +Gilbert Fenton sat in the inner office at noon one day about a week after +his return from Lidford. He had come to business early that morning, had +initialed a good many accounts, and written half-a-dozen letters already, +and had thrown himself back in his easy-chair for a few minutes' idle +musing--musing upon that one sweet dream of his new existence, of course. +From whatever point his thoughts started, they always drifted into that +channel. + +While he was sitting like this, with his hands in his pockets and his +chair tilted upon its hind legs, the half-glass door opened, and a +gentleman came into the office--a man a little over middle height, +broad-shouldered, and powerfully built, with a naturally dark complexion, +which had been tanned still darker by sun and wind, black eyes and heavy +black eyebrows, a head a little bald at the top, and a face that might +have been called almost ugly but for the look of intellectual power in +the broad open forehead and the perfect modelling of the flexible +sensitive mouth; a remarkable face altogether, not easily to be forgotten +by those who had once looked upon it. + +This man was John Saltram, the one intimate and chosen friend of Gilbert +Fenton's youth and manhood. They had met first at Oxford, and had seldom +lost sight of each other since the old university days. They had +travelled a good deal together during the one idle year that had preceded +Gilbert's sudden plunge into commerce. They had been up the Nile together +in the course of these wanderings; and here, remote from all civilized +aid, Gilbert had fallen ill of a fever--a long tedious business which +brought him to the very point of death, and throughout which John Saltram +had nursed him with a womanly tenderness and devotion that knew no +abatement. If this had been wanting to strengthen the tie between +them--which it was not--it would have brought them closer together. As it +was, that dreary time of sickness and peril was only a memory which +Gilbert Fenton kept in his heart of hearts, never to grow less sacred to +him until the end of life. + +Mr. Saltram was a barrister, almost a briefless one at present, for his +habits were desultory, not to say idle, and he had not taken very kindly +to the slow drudgery of the Bar. He had some money of his own, and added +to his income by writing for the press in a powerful trenchant manner, +with a style that was like the stroke of a sledge-hammer. In spite of +this literary work, for which he got very well paid, Mr. Saltram +generally contrived to be in debt; and there were few periods of his life +in which he was not engaged more or less in the delicate operation of +raising money by bills of accommodation. Habit had given him quite an +artistic touch for this kind of thing, and he did his work fondly, like +some enthusiastic horticulturist who gives his anxious days to the +budding forth of some new orchid or the production of a hitherto +unobtainable tulip. It is doubtful whether money procured from any other +source was ever half so sweet to this gentleman as the cash for which he +paid sixty per cent to the Jews. With these proclivities he managed to +rub on from year to year somehow, getting about five hundred per annum in +solid value out of an income of seven, and adding a little annually to +the rolling mass of debt which he had begun to accumulate while he was at +Balliol. + +"Why, Jack," cried Gilbert, starting up from his reverie at the entrance +of his friend, and greeting him with a hearty handshaking, "this is an +agreeable surprise! I was asking for you at the Pnyx last night, and Joe +Hawdon told me you were away--up the Danube he thought, on a canoe +expedition." + +"It is only under some utterly impossible dispensation that Joseph Hawdon +will ever be right about anything. I have been on a walking expedition in +Brittany, dear boy, alone, and have found myself very bad company. I +started soon after you went to your sister's, and only came back last +night. That scoundrel Levison promised me seventy-five this afternoon; +but whether I shall get it out of him is a fact only known to himself and +the powers with which he holds communion. And was the rustic business +pleasant, Gil? Did you take kindly to the syllabubs and new milk, the +summer sunrise over dewy fields, the pretty dairy-maids, and prize pigs, +and daily inspections of the home-farm? or did you find life rather dull +down at Lidford? I know the place well enough, and all the country round +about there. I have stayed at Heatherly with Sir David Forster more than +once for the shooting season. A pleasant fellow Forster, in a dissipated +good-for-nothing kind of way, always up to his eyes in debt. Did you +happen to meet him while you were down there?" + +"No, I don't think the Listers know him." + +"So much the better for them! It is a vice to know him. And you were not +dull at Lidford?" + +"Very far from it, Jack. I was happier there than I have ever been in my +life before." + +"Eh, Gil!" cried John Saltram; "that means something more than a quiet +fortnight with a married sister. Come, old fellow, I have a vested right +to a share in all your secrets." + +"There is no secret, Jack. Yes, I have fallen in love, if that's what you +mean, and am engaged." + +"So soon! That's rather quick work, isn't it, dear boy?" + +"I don't think so. What is that the poet says?--'If not an Adam at his +birth, he is no love at all.' My passion sprang into life full-grown +after an hour's contemplation of a beautiful face in Lidford church." + +"Who is the lady?" + +"O, her position is not worth speaking of. She is the adopted niece of a +half-pay captain--an orphan, without money or connections." + +"Humph!" muttered John Saltram with the privileged candour of friendship; +"not a very advantageous match for you, Gilbert, from a worldly point of +view." + +"I have not considered the matter from that point of view." + +"And the lady is all that is charming, of course?" + +"To my mind, yes." + +"Very young?" + +"Nineteen." + +"Well, dear old follow, I wish you joy with all heartiness. You can +afford to marry whom you please, and are very right to let inclination +and not interest govern your choice. Whenever I tie myself in the bondage +of matrimony, it will be to a lady who can pay my debts and set me on my +legs for life. Whether such a one will ever consider my ugly face a fair +equivalent for her specie, is an open question. You must introduce me to +your future wife, Gilbert, on the first opportunity. I shall be very +anxious to discover whether your marriage will be likely to put an end to +our friendship." + +"There is no fear of that, Jack. That is a contingency never to arise. I +have told Marian a great deal about you already. She knows that I owe my +life to you, and she is prepared to value you as much as I do." + +"She is very good; but all wives promise that kind of thing before +marriage. And there is apt to come a day when the familiar bachelor +friend falls under the domestic taboo, together with smoking in the +drawing-room, brandy-and-soda, and other luxuries of the old, easy-going, +single life." + +"Marian is not very likely to prove a domestic tyrant. She is the +gentlest dearest girl, and is very well used to bachelor habits in the +person of her uncle. I don't believe she will ever extinguish our cigars, +Jack, even in the drawing-room. I look forward to the happiest home that +ever a man possessed; and it would be no home of mine if you were not +welcome and honoured in it. I hope we shall spend many a summer evening +on the lawn, Jack, with a bottle of Pomard or St. Julien between us, +watching the drowsy old anglers in their punts, and the swift outriggers +flashing past in the twilight. I mean to find some snug little place by +the river, you know, Saltram--somewhere about Teddington, where the +gardens slope down to the water's edge." + +"Very pleasant! and you will make an admirable family man, Gil. You have +none of the faults that render me ineligible for the married state. I +think your Marian is a very fortunate girl. What is her surname, by the +way?" + +"Nowell." + +"Marian Nowell--a very pretty name! When do you think of going back to +Lidford?" + +"In about a month. My brother-in-law wants me to go back to them for the +1st of September." + +"Then I think I shall run down to Forster's, and have a pop at the +pheasants. It will give me an opportunity of being presented to Miss +Nowell." + +"I shall be very pleased to introduce you, old fellow. I know that you +will admire her." + +"Well, I am not a very warm admirer of the sex in general; but I am sure +to like your future wife, Gil, if it is only because you have chosen +her." + +"And your own affairs, Jack--how have they been going on?" + +"Not very brightly. I am not a lucky individual, you know. Destiny and I +have been at odds ever since I was a schoolboy." + +"Not in love yet, John?" + +"No," the other answered, with rather a gloomy look. + +He was sitting on a corner of the ponderous desk in a lounging attitude, +gazing meditatively at his boots, and hitting one of them now and then +with a cane he carried, in a restless kind of way. + +"You see, the fact of the matter is, Gil," he began at last, "as I told +you just now, if ever I do marry, mercenary considerations are likely to +be at the bottom of the business. I don't mean to say that I would marry +a woman I disliked, and take it out of her in ill-usage or neglect. I am +not quite such a scoundrel as that. But if I had the luck to meet with a +woman I _could_ like, tolerably pretty and agreeable, and all that kind +of thing, and weak enough to care for me--a woman with a handsome +fortune--I should be a fool not to snap at such a chance." + +"I see," exclaimed Gilbert, "you have met with such a woman." + +"I have." + +Again the gloomy look came over the dark strongly-marked face, the thick +black eyebrows contracted in a frown, and the cane was struck impatiently +against John Saltram's boot. + +"But you are not in love with her; I see that in your face, Jack. You'll +think me a sentimental fool, I daresay, and fancy I look at things in a +new light now that I'm down a pit myself; but, for God's sake, don't +marry a woman you can't love. Tolerably pretty and agreeable won't do, +Jack,--that means indifference on your part; and, depend upon it, when a +man and woman are tied together for life, there is only a short step from +indifference to dislike." + +"No, Gilbert, it's not that," answered the other, still moodily +contemplative of his boots. "I really like the lady well enough--love +her, I daresay. I have not had much experience of the tender passion +since I was jilted by an Oxford barmaid--whom I would have married, by +Jove. But the truth is, the lady in question isn't free to marry just +yet. There's a husband in the case--a feeble old Anglo-Indian, who can't +live very long. Don't look so glum, old fellow; there has been nothing +wrong, not a word that all the world might not hear; but there are signs +and tokens by which a man, without any vanity--and heaven knows I have no +justification for that--may be sure a woman likes him. In short, I +believe that if Adela Branston were a widow, the course would lie clear +before me, and I should have nothing to do but go in and win. And the +stakes will be worth winning, I assure you." + +"But this Mr. Branston may live for an indefinite number of years, during +which you will be wasting your life on a shadow." + +"Not very likely. Poor old Branston came home from Calcutta a confirmed +invalid, and I believe his sentence has been pronounced by all the +doctors. In the mean time he makes the best of life, has his good days +and bad days, and entertains a great deal of company at a delightful +place near Maidenhead--with a garden sloping to the river like that you +were talking of just now, only on a very extensive scale. You know how +often I have wanted you to run down there with me, and how there has been +always something to prevent your going." + +"Yes, I remember. Rely upon it, I shall contrive to accept the next +invitation, come what may. But I can't say I like the idea of this +prospective kind of courtship, or that I consider it quite worthy of you, +Saltram." + +"My dear Gilbert, when a fellow is burdened with debt and of a naturally +idle disposition, he is apt to take rather a liberal view of such means +of advancement in life as may present themselves to him. But there is no +prospective courtship--nothing at all resembling a courtship in this +case, believe me. Mrs. Branston knows that I like and admire her. She +knows as much of almost every man who goes to Rivercombe; for there are +plenty who will be disposed to go in against me for the prize by-and-by. +But I think that she likes me better than any one else, and that the +chances will be all in my favour. From first to last there has not been a +word spoken between us which old Branston himself might not hear. As to +Adela's marrying again when he is gone, he could scarcely be so fatuous +as not to foresee the probability of that." + +"Is she pretty?" + +"Very pretty, in rather a childish way, with blue eyes and fair hair. She +is not my ideal among women, but no man ever marries his ideal. The man +who has sworn by eyes as black as a stormy midnight and raven hair +generally unites himself to the most insipid thing in blondes, and the +idolater of golden locks takes to wife some frizzy-haired West Indian +with an unmistakable dip of the tar-brush. When will you go down to +Rivercombe?" + +"Whenever you like." + +"The nabob is hospitality itself, and will be delighted to see you if he +is to the fore when you go. I fancy there is some kind of regatta--a race +or two, at any rate--on Saturday afternoon. Will that suit you?" + +"Very well indeed." + +"Then we can meet at the station. There is a train down at 2.15. But we +are going to see something of each other in the meantime, I hope. I know +that I am a sore hindrance to business at such an hour as this. Will you +dine with me at the Pnyx at seven to-night? I shall be able to tell you +how I got on with Levison." + +"With pleasure." + +And so they parted--Gilbert Fenton to return to his letter-writing, and +to the reception of callers of a more commercial and profitable +character; John Saltram to loiter slowly through the streets on his way +to the money-lender's office. + +They dined together very pleasantly that evening. Mr. Levison had proved +accommodating for the nonce; and John Saltram was in high spirits, almost +boisterously gay, with the gaiety of a man for whom life is made up of +swift transitions from brightness to gloom, long intervals of +despondency, and brief glimpses of pleasure; the reckless humour of a man +with whom thought always meant care, and whose soul had no higher +aspiration than to beguile the march of time by such evenings as these. + +They met on the following Saturday at the Great Western terminus, John +Saltram still in high spirits, and Gilbert Fenton quietly happy. That +morning's post had brought him his first letter from Marian--an innocent +girlish epistle, which was as delicious to Gilbert as if it had been the +_chef-d'oeuvre_ of a Sevigne. What could she say to him? Very +little. The letter was full of gratitude for his thoughtfulness about +her, for the pretty tributes of his love which he had sent her, the books +and music and ribbons and gloves, in the purchase whereof he had found +such a novel pleasure. It had been a common thing for him to execute such +commissions for his sister; but it was quite a new sensation to him to +discuss the colours of gloves and ribbons, now that the trifles he chose +were to give pleasure to Marian Nowell. He knew every tint that +harmonised or contrasted best with that clear olive complexion--the +brilliant blue that gave new brightness to the sparkling grey eyes, the +pink that cast warm lights upon the firmly-moulded throat and chin--and +he found a childish delight in these trivialities. There was one ribbon +he selected for her at this time which he had strange reason to remember +in the days to come--a narrow blue ribbon, with tiny pink rosebuds upon +it, a daring mixture of the two colours. + +He had the letter in the breast-pocket of his coat when he met John +Saltram at the station, and entertained that gentleman with certain +passages from it as they sped down to Maidenhead. To which passages Mr. +Saltram listened kindly, with a very vague notion of the writer. + +"I am afraid she is rather a namby-pamby person," he thought, "with +nothing but her beauty to recommend her. That wonderful gift of beauty +has such power to bewitch the most sensible man upon occasion." + +They chartered a fly at Maidenhead, and drove about a mile and a half +along a pleasant road before they came to the gates of Rivercombe--a low +straggling house with verandahs, over which trailed a wealth of flowering +creepers, and innumerable windows opening to the ground. The gardens were +perfection, not gardens of yesterday, with only the prim splendours of +modern horticulture to recommend them, but spreading lawns, on which the +deep springy turf had been growing a hundred years--lawns made delicious +in summer time by the cool umbrage of old forest-trees; fertile +rose-gardens screened from the biting of adverse winds by tall hedges of +holly and yew, the angles whereof were embellished by vases and peacocks +quaintly cut in the style of a bygone age; and for chief glory of all, +the bright blue river, which made the principal boundary of the place, +washing the edge of the wide sloping lawn, and making perpetual music on +a summer day with its joyous ripple. + +There was a good deal of company already scattered about the lawn when +John Saltram and his friend were ushered into the pretty drawing-room. +The cheerful sound of croquet-balls came from a level stretch of grass +visible from the windows, and quite a little fleet of boats were jostling +one another at the landing by the Swiss boat-house. + +Mrs. Branston came in from the garden to welcome them, looking very +pretty in a coquettish little white-chip hat with a scarlet feather, and +a pale-gray silk dress looped up over an elaborately-flounced muslin +petticoat. She was a slender little woman, with a brilliant complexion, +sunny waving hair, and innocent blue eyes; the sort of woman whom a man +would wish to shelter from all the storms of life, but whom he might +scarcely care to choose for the companion of a perilous voyage. + +She professed herself very much pleased to see Gilbert Fenton. + +"I have heard so much of you from Mr. Saltram," she said. "He is always +praising you. I believe he cares more for you than anyone else in the +world." + +"I have not many people to care for," answered John Saltram, "and Gilbert +is a friend of long standing." + +A sentimental expression came over Mrs. Branston's girlish face, and she +gave a little regretful sigh. + +"I am sorry you will not see my husband to-day," she said, after a brief +pause. "It is one of his bad days." + +The two gentlemen both expressed their regret upon this subject; and then +they went out to the lawn with Mrs. Branston, and joined the group by the +river-brink, who were waiting for the race. Here Gilbert found some +pleasant people to talk to; while Adela Branston and John Saltram +strolled, as if by accident, to a seat a little way apart from the rest, +and sat there talking in a confidential manner, which might not really +constitute a flirtation, but which had rather that appearance to the eye +of the ignorant observer. + +The boats came flashing by at last, and there was the usual excitement +amongst the spectators; but it seemed to Gilbert that Mrs. Branston found +more interest in John Saltram's conversation than in the race. It is +possible she had seen too many such contests to care much for the result +of this one. She scarcely looked up as the boats shot by, but sat with +her little gloved hands clasped upon her knee, and her bright face turned +towards John Saltram. + +They all went into the house at about seven o'clock, after a good deal of +croquet and flirtation, and found a free-and-easy kind of banquet, half +tea, half luncheon, but very substantial after its kind, waiting for them +in the long low dining-room. Mrs. Branston was very popular as a hostess, +and had a knack of bringing pleasant people round her--journalists and +musical men, clever young painters who were beginning to make their mark +in the art-world, pretty girls who could sing or play well, or talk more +or less brilliantly. Against nonentities of all kinds Adela Branston set +her face, and had a polite way of dropping people from whom she derived +no amusement, pleading in her pretty childish way that it was so much +more pleasant for all parties. That this mundane existence of ours was +not intended to be all pleasure, was an idea that never yet troubled +Adela Branston's mind. She had been petted and spoiled by everyone about +her from the beginning of her brief life, and had passed from the +frivolous career of a school-girl to a position of wealth and +independence as Michael Branston's wife; fully believing that, in making +the sacrifice involved in marrying a man forty years her senior, she +earned the right to take her own pleasure, and to gratify every caprice +of her infantile mind, for the remainder of her days. She was supremely +selfish in an agreeable unconscious fashion, and considered herself a +domestic martyr whenever she spent an hour in her husband's sick-room, +listening to his peevish accounts of his maladies, or reading a _Times_ +leader on the threatening aspect of things in the City for the solace of +his loneliness and pain. + +The popping of corks sounded merrily amidst the buzz of conversation, and +great antique silver tankards of Badminton and Moselle cup were emptied +as by magic, none knowing how except the grave judicial-looking butler, +whose omniscient eye reigned above the pleasant confusion of the scene. +And after about an hour and a half wasted in this agreeable indoor +picnic, Mrs. Branston and her friends adjourned to the drawing-room, +where the grand piano had been pushed into a conspicuous position, and +where the musical business of the evening speedily began. + +It was very pleasant sitting by the open windows in the summer twilight, +with no artificial light in the room, except the wax candles on the +piano, listening to good music, and talking a little now and then in that +subdued confidential tone to which music makes such an agreeable +accompaniment. + +Adela Branston sat in the midst of a group in a wide bay window, and +although John Saltram was standing near her chair, he did not this time +engage the whole of her attention. Gilbert found himself seated next a +very animated young lady, who rather bored him with her raptures about +the music, and who seemed to have assisted at every morning and evening +concert that had been given within the last two years. To any remoter +period her memory did not extend, and she implied that she had been +before that time in a chrysalis or non-existent condition. She told Mr. +Fenton, with an air of innocent wonder, that she had heard there were +people living who remembered the first appearance of Jenny Lind. + +A little before ten o'clock there was a general movement for the rail, +the greater number of Mrs. Branston's guests having come from town. There +was a scarcity of flys at this juncture, so John Saltram and Gilbert +Fenton walked back to the station in the moonlight. + +"Well, Gilbert, old fellow, what do you think of the lady?" Mr. Saltram +asked, when they were a little way beyond the gates of Rivercombe. + +"I think her very pretty, Jack, and--well--yes--upon the whole +fascinating. But I don't like the look of the thing altogether, and I +fancy there's considerable bad taste in giving parties with an invalid +husband upstairs. I was wondering how Mr. Branston liked the noise of all +that talk and laughter in the dining-room, or the music that came +afterwards." + +"My dear fellow, old Branston delights in society. He is generally well +enough to sit in the drawing-room and look on at his wife's parties. He +doesn't talk much on those occasions. Indeed, I believe he is quite +incapable of conversing about anything except the rise and fall of Indian +stock, or the fluctuations in the value of indigo. And, you see, Adela +married him with the intention of enjoying her life. She confesses as +much sometimes with perfect candour." + +"I daresay she is very candid, and just as shallow," said Gilbert Fenton, +who was inclined to set his face against this entanglement of his +friend's. + +"Well--yes, I suppose she is rather shallow. Those pretty pleasant little +women generally are, I think. Depth of feeling and force of mind are so +apt to go along with blue spectacles and a rugged aspect. A woman's +prettiness must stand for something. There is so much real pleasure in +the contemplation of a charming face, that a man had need rescind a +little in the way of mental qualifications. And I do not think Adela +Branston is without a heart." + +"You praise her very warmly. Are you really in love with her, John?" his +friend asked seriously. + +"No, Gilbert, upon my honour. I heartily wish I were. I wish I could give +her more by-and-by, when death brings about her release from Michael +Branston, than the kind of liking I feel for her. No, I am not in love +with her; but I think she likes me; and a man must be something worse +than a brute if he is not grateful for a pretty woman's regard." + +They said no more about Mrs. Branston. Gilbert had a strong distaste for +the business; but he did not care to take upon himself the office of +mentor to a friend whose will he knew to be much stronger than his own, +and to whose domination he had been apt to submit in most things, as to +the influence of a superior mind. It disappointed him a little to find +that John Saltram was capable of making a mercenary marriage, capable +even of the greater baseness involved in the anticipation of a dead man's +shoes; but his heart was not easily to be turned against the chosen +friend of his youth, and he was prompt in making excuses for the line of +conduct he disapproved. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +HALCYON DAYS. + + +It was still quite early in September when Gilbert Fenton went back to +Lidford and took up his quarters once more in the airy chintz-curtained +bedchamber set apart for him in his sister's house. He had devoted +himself very resolutely to business during the interval that had gone by +since his last visit to that quiet country house; but the time had seemed +very long to him, and he fancied himself a kind of martyr to the +necessities of commerce. The aspect of his affairs of late had not been +quite free from unpleasantness. There were difficulties in the conduct of +business in the Melbourne branch of the house, that branch which was +under the charge of a cousin of Gilbert's, about whose business +capacities the late Mr. Fenton had entertained the most exalted opinion. + +The Melbourne trading had not of late done much credit to this +gentleman's commercial genius. He had put his trust in firms that had +crumbled to pieces before the bills drawn upon them came due, involving +his cousin in considerable losses. Gilbert was rich enough to stand these +losses, however; and he reconciled himself to them as best he might, +taking care to send his Australian partner imperative instructions for a +more prudent system of trading in the future. + +The uneasiness and vexation produced by this business was still upon him +when he went down to Lidford; but he relied upon Marian Nowell's presence +to dissipate all his care. + +He did find himself perfectly happy in her society. He was troubled by no +doubts as to her affection for him, no uncertainty as to the brightness +of the days that were to come. Her manner seemed to him all that a man +could wish in the future partner of his life. An innocent trustfulness in +his superior judgment, a childlike submission to his will which Marian +displayed upon all occasions, were alike flattering and delightful. Nor +did she ever appear to grow tired of that talk of their future which was +so pleasant to her lover. There was no shadow of doubt upon her face when +he spoke of the serene happiness which they two were to find in an +existence spent together. He was the first who had ever spoken to her of +these things, and she listened to him with an utter simplicity and +freshness of mind. + +Time had reconciled Isabella Lister to her brother's choice, and she now +deigned to smile upon the lovers, very much to Gilbert's satisfaction. He +had been too proud to supplicate her good graces; but he was pleased that +his only sister should show herself gracious and affectionate to the girl +he loved so fondly. During this second visit of his, therefore, Marian +came very often to Lidford House; sometimes accompanied by her uncle, +sometimes alone; and there was perfect harmony between the elder and +younger lady. + +The partridges upon Martin Lister's estate did not suffer much damage +from his brother-in-law's gun that autumn. Gilbert found it a great deal +pleasanter to spend his mornings dawdling in the little cottage +drawing-room or under the walnut-trees with Marian, than to waste his +noontide hours in the endeavour to fill a creditable game-bag. There is +not very much to tell of the hours which those two spent together so +happily. It was an innocent, frivolous, useless employment of time, and +left little trace behind it, except in the heart of one of those two. +Gilbert wondered at himself when, in some sober interval of reflection, +he happened to consider those idle mornings, those tranquil uneventful +afternoons and evenings, remembering what a devoted man of business he +had once been, and how a few months ago he would have denounced such a +life in another. + +"Well," he said to himself, with a happy laugh, "a man can take this +fever but once in his life, and it is only wise in him to surrender +himself utterly to the divine delirium. I shall have no excuse for +neglecting business by-and-by, when my little wife and I are settled down +together for the rest of our days. Let me be her lover while I may. Can I +ever be less than her lover, I wonder? Will marriage, or custom, or the +assurance that we belong to each other for the rest of our days, take the +poetry out of our lives? I think not; I think Marian must always be to me +what she has seemed to me from the very first--something better and +brighter than the common things of this life." + +Custom, which made Marian Nowell dearer to Gilbert Fenton every day, had +by this time familiarised her with his position as her future husband. +She was no longer surprised or distressed when he pleaded for a short +engagement, and a speedy realization of that Utopian home which they were +to inhabit together. The knowledge of her uncle's delight in this +engagement of hers might have reconciled her to it, even if she had not +loved Gilbert Fenton. And she told herself that she did love him; or, +more often putting the matter in the form of a question, asked herself +whether she could be so basely ungrateful as not to love one who regarded +her with such disinterested affection? + +It was settled finally, after a good deal of pleasant discussion, that +the wedding should take place early in the coming spring--at latest in +April. Even this seemed a long delay to Gilbert; but he submitted to it +as an inevitable concession to the superior instinct of his betrothed, +which harmonised so well with Mrs. Lister's ideas of wisdom and +propriety. There was the house to be secured, too, so that he might have +a fitting home to which to take his darling when their honeymoon was +over; and as he had no female relation in London who could take the care +of furnishing this earthly paradise off his hands, he felt that the whole +business must devolve upon himself, and could not be done without time. + +Captain Sedgewick promised to bring Marian to town for a fortnight in +October, in order that she might assist her lover in that delightful duty +of house-hunting. She looked forward to this visit with quite a childlike +pleasure. Her life at Lidford had been completely happy; but it was a +monotonous kind of happiness; and the notion of going about London, even +at the dullest time of the year, was very delightful to her. + +The weather happened to be especially fine that September. It was the +brightest month of the year, and the lovers took long rambles together in +the woodland roads and lanes about Lidford, sometimes alone, more often +with the Captain, who was a very fair pedestrian, in spite of having had +a bullet or two through his legs in the days gone by. When the weather +was too warm for walking, Gilbert borrowed Martin Lister's dog-cart, and +drove them on long journeys of exploration to remote villages, or to the +cheery little market-town ten miles away. + +They all three set out for a walk one afternoon, when Gilbert had been +about a fortnight at Lidford, with no particular destination, only bent +on enjoying the lovely weather and the rustic beauty of woodland and +meadow. The Captain chose their route, as he always did on these +occasions, and under his guidance they followed the river-bank for some +distance, and then turned aside into a wood in which Gilbert Fenton had +never been before. He said so, with an expression of surprise at the +beauty of the place, where the fern grew deep under giant oaks and +beeches, and where the mossy ground dipped suddenly down to a deep still +pool which reflected the sunlit sky through a break in the dark foliage +that sheltered it. + +"What, have you never been here?" exclaimed the Captain; "then you have +never seen Heatherly, I suppose?" + +"Never. By the way, is not that Sir David Forster's place?" asked +Gilbert, remembering John Saltram's promise. + +He had seen very little more of his friend after that visit to +Rivercombe, and had half forgotten Mr. Saltram's talk of coming down to +this neighbourhood on purpose to be presented to Marian. + +"Yes. It is something of a show-place, too; and we think a good deal of +it in these parts. There are some fine Sir Joshuas among the family +portraits, painted in the days when the Forsters were better off and of +more importance in the county than they are now. And there are a few +other good pictures--Dutch interiors, and some seascapes by Bakhuysen. +Decidedly you ought to see Heatherly. Shall we push on there this +afternoon?" + +"Is it far from here?" + +"Not much more than a mile. This wood joins the park, and there is a +public right of way across the park to the Lidford road, so the gate is +always open. We can't waste our walk, and I know Sir David quite well +enough to ask him to let you see the pictures, if he should happen to be +at home." + +"I should like it of all things," said Gilbert eagerly. "My friend John +Saltram knows this Sir David Forster, and he talked of being down here at +this time: I forgot all about it till you spoke of Heatherly just now. I +have a knack of forgetting things now-a-days." + +"I wonder that you should forget anything connected with Mr. Saltram, +Gilbert," said Marian; "that Mr. Saltram of whom you think so much. I +cannot tell you how anxious I am to see what kind of person he is; not +handsome--you have confessed as much as that." + +"Yes, Marian, I admit the painful fact. There are people who call John +Saltram ugly. But his face is not a common one; it is a very picturesque +kind of ugliness--a face that Velasquez would have loved to paint, I +think. It is a rugged, strongly-marked countenance with a villanously +dark complexion; but the eyes are very fine, the mouth perfection; and +there is a look of power in the face that, to my mind, is better than +beauty." + +"And I think you owned that Mr. Saltram is hardly the most agreeable +person in the world." + +"Well, no, he is not what one could well call an eminently agreeable +person. And yet he exercises a good deal of influence over the men he +knows, without admitting many of them to his friendship. He is very +clever; not a brilliant talker by any means, except on rare occasions, +when he chooses to give full swing to his powers; he does not lay himself +out for social successes; but he is a man who seems to know more of every +subject than the men about him. I doubt if he will ever succeed at the +Bar. He has so little perseverance or steadiness, and indulges in such an +erratic, desultory mode of life; but he has made his mark in literature +already, and I think he might become a great man if he chose. Whether he +ever will choose is a doubtful question." + +"I am afraid he must be rather a dissipated, dangerous kind of person," +said Marian. + +"Well, yes, he is subject to occasional outbreaks of dissipation. They +don't last long, and they seem to leave not the faintest impression upon +his herculean constitution; but of course that sort of thing does more or +less injury to a man's mind, however comparatively harmless the form of +his dissipation may be. There are very few men whom John Saltram cannot +drink under the table, and rise with a steady brain himself when the +wassail is ended; yet I believe, in a general way, few men drink less +than he does. At cards he is equally strong; a past-master in all games +of skill; and the play is apt to be rather high at one or two of the +clubs he belongs to. He has a wonderful power of self-restraint when he +cares to exert it; will play six or seven hours every night for three +weeks at a stretch, and then not touch a card for six months. Poor old +John," said Gilbert Fenton, with a half-regretful sigh; "under happy +circumstances, he might be such a good man." + +"But I fear he is a dangerous friend for you, Gilbert," exclaimed Marian, +horrified by this glimpse of bachelor life. + +"No, darling, I have never shared his wilder pleasures. There are a few +chosen spirits with whom he consorts at such times. I believe this Sir +David Forster is one of them." + +"Sir David has the reputation of leading rather a wild life in London," +said the Captain, "and of bringing a dissipated set down here every +autumn. Things have not gone well with him. His wife, who was a very +beautiful girl, and whom he passionately loved, was killed by a fall from +her horse a few months after the birth of her first child. The child died +too, and the double loss ruined Sir David. He used to spend the greater +part of his life at Heatherly, and was a general favourite among the +county people; but since that time he has avoided the place, except +during the shooting season. He has a hunting-box in the shires, and is a +regular daredevil over a big country they tell me." + +They had reached the little gate opening from the wood into the park by +this time. There was not much difference in the aspect of the sylvan +scene upon the other side of the fence. Sir David's domain had been a +good deal neglected of late years, and the brushwood and brambles grew +thick under the noble old trees. The timber had not yet suffered by its +owner's improvidence. The end of all things must have come for Sir David +before he would have consented to the spoliation of a place he fondly +loved, little as he had cared to inhabit it since the day that shattered +all that was brightest and best in his life. + +For some time Captain Sedgewick and his companions went along a footpath +under the shelter of the trees, and then emerged upon a wide stretch of +smooth turf, across which they commanded a perfect view of the principal +front of the old house. It was a quadrangular building of the Elizabethan +period, very plainly built, and with no special beauty to recommend it to +the lover of the picturesque. Whatever charm of form it may have +possessed in the past had been ruthlessly extirpated by the modernisation +of the windows, which were now all of one size and form--a long gaunt +range of unsheltered casements staring blankly out upon the spectator. +There were no flower-beds, no terraced walks, or graceful flights of +steps before the house; only a bare grassplot, with a stiff line of tall +elms on each side, and a wide dry moat dividing it from the turf in the +park. Two lodges--ponderous square brick buildings with very small +windows, each the exact counterpart of the other, and a marvel of +substantial ugliness--kept guard over a pair of tall iron gates, about +six hundred yards apart, approached by stone bridges that spanned the +moat. + +Captain Sedgewick rang a bell hanging by the side of one of these gates, +whereat there arose a shrill peal that set the rooks screaming in the +tall elms overhead. An elderly female appeared in answer to this summons, +and opened the gate in a slow mechanical way, without the faintest show +of interest in the people about to enter, and looking as if she would +have admitted a gang of obvious burglars with equal indifference. + +"Rather a hideous style of place," said Gilbert, as they walked towards +the house; "but I think show-places, as a general rule, excel in +ugliness. I daresay the owners of them find a dismal kind of satisfaction +in considering the depressing influence their dreary piles of +bricks-and-mortar must exercise on the minds of strangers; may be a sort +of compensation for being obliged to live in such a gaol of a place." + +There was a clumsy low stone portico over the door, wide enough to admit +a carriage; and lounging upon a bench under this stony shelter they found +a sleepy-looking man-servant, who informed Captain Sedgewick that Sir +David was at Heatherly, but that he was out shooting with his friends at +this present moment. In his absence the man would be very happy to show +the house to Captain Sedgewick and his party. + +Gilbert Fenton asked about John Saltram. + +Yes, Mr. Saltram had arrived at Heatherly on Tuesday evening, two nights +ago. + +They went over the state-rooms, and looked at the pictures, which were +really as good as the Captain had represented them. The inspection +occupied a little more than an hour, and they were ready to take their +departure, when the sound of masculine voices resounded loudly in the +hall, and their conductor announced that Sir David and his friends had +come in. + +There were only two gentlemen in the hall when they went into that +spacious marble-paved chamber, where there were great logs burning on the +wide open hearth, in spite of the warmth of the September day. One of +these two was Sir David Forster, a big man, with a light-brown beard and +a florid complexion. The other was John Saltram, who sat in a lounging +attitude on one of the deep window-seats examining his breech-loader. His +back was turned towards the window, and the glare of the blazing logs +shone full upon his dark face with a strange Rembrandt-like effect. + +One glance told Marian Nowell who this man was. That powerful face, with +its unfathomable eyes and thoughtful mouth, was not the countenance she +had conjured up from the depths of her imagination when Gilbert Fenton +had described his friend; yet she felt that this stranger lounging in the +window was John Saltram, and no other. He rose, and set down his gun very +quietly, and stood by the window waiting while Captain Sedgewick +introduced Gilbert to Sir David. Then he came forward, shook hands with +his friend, and was thereupon presented to Marian and her uncle by +Gilbert, who made these introductions with a kind of happy eagerness. + +Sir David was full of friendliness and hospitality, and insisted on +keeping them to show Gilbert and Miss Nowell some pictures in the +billiard-room and in his own private snuggery, apartments which were not +shown to ordinary visitors. + +They strolled through these rooms in a leisurely way, Sir David making +considerable pains to show Gilbert Fenton the gems of his collection, +John Saltram acting as cicerone to Marian. He was curious to discover +what this girl was like, whether she had indeed only her beauty to +recommend her, or whether she was in sober reality the perfect being +Gilbert Fenton believed her to be. + +She was very beautiful. The first brief look convinced Mr. Saltram that +upon this point at least her lover had indulged in no loverlike +exaggeration. There was a singular charm in the face; a higher, more +penetrating loveliness than mere perfection of feature; a kind of beauty +that would have been at once the delight and desperation of a painter--so +fitting a subject for his brush, so utterly beyond the power of perfect +reproduction, unless by one of those happy, almost accidental successes +which make the triumphs of genius. + +John Saltram watched Marian Nowell's face thoughtfully as he talked to +her, for the most part, about the pictures which they were looking at +together. Before their inspection of these art-treasures was ended, he +was fain to confess to himself that she was intelligent as well as +beautiful. It was not that she had said anything particularly brilliant, +or had shown herself learned in the qualities of the old Dutch masters; +but she possessed that charming childlike capacity for receiving +information from a superior mind, and that perfect and rapid power of +appreciating a clever man's conversation, which are apt to seem so +delightful to the sterner sex when exhibited by a pretty woman. At first +she had been just a little shy and constrained in her talk with John +Saltram. Her lover's account of this man had not inspired her with any +exalted opinion of his character. She was rather inclined to look upon +him as a person to be dreaded, a friend whose influence was dangerous at +best, and who might prove the evil genius of Gilbert Fenton's life. But +whatever her opinion on this point might remain, her reserve soon melted +before John Saltram's clever talk and kindly conciliating manner. He laid +himself out to please on this occasion, and it was very rarely he did +that without succeeding. + +"I want you to think of me as a kind of brother, Miss Nowell," he said in +the course of their talk. "Gilbert and I have been something like +brothers for the last twelve years of our lives, and it would be a hard +thing, for one of us at least, if our friendship should ever be lessened. +You shall find me discretion itself by-and-by, and you shall see that I +can respect Gilbert's altered position; but I shouldn't like to lose him, +and I don't think you look capable of setting your face against your +husband's old friend." + +Marian blushed a little at this, remembering that only an hour or two ago +she had been thinking that this friendship was a perilous one for +Gilbert, and that it would be well if John Saltram's influence over him +could be lessened somehow in the future. + +"I don't believe I should ever have the power to diminish Gilbert's +regard for you, Mr. Saltram, even were I inclined to do so," she said. + +"O yes, you would; your power over him will be illimitable, depend upon +it. But now I have seen you, I think you will only use it wisely." + +Marian shook her head, laughing gaily. + +"I am much more fitted to be ruled than to rule, Mr. Saltram," she said. +"I am utterly inexperienced in the world, you know, and Mr. Fenton is my +superior in every way." + +"Your superior in years, I know, but in what else?" + +"In everything else. In intellect and judgment, as well as in knowledge +of the world. You could never imagine what a quiet changeless life I have +led." + +"Your intellect is so much the clearer for that, I think. It has not been +disturbed by all the narrow petty influences of a life spent in what is +called 'society.'" + +Before they left the house, Gilbert and the Captain were obliged to +promise to dine at Heatherly next day, very much to the secret distaste +of the former, who must thus lose an evening with Marian, but who was +ashamed to reveal his hopeless condition by a persistent refusal. +Captain Sedgewick begged John Saltram to choose an early day for dining +at the cottage, and Gilbert gave him a general invitation to Lidford +House. + +These matters being settled, they departed, accompanied by Mr. Saltram, +who proposed to walk as far as the wood with them, and who extended his +walk still farther, only leaving them at the gate of the Captain's modest +domain. The conversation was general throughout the way back; and they +all found plenty to talk about, as they loitered slowly on among the +waving shadows of the trees flickering darkly on the winding path by +which they went. Gilbert lingered outside the gate after Marian and her +uncle had gone into the cottage--he was so eager to hear his friend +praise the girl he loved. + +"Well, John?" he asked. + +"Well, dear old boy, she is all that is beautiful and charming, and I can +only congratulate you upon your choice. Miss Nowell's perfection is a +subject about which there cannot be two opinions." + +"And you think she loves me, Jack?" + +"Do I think she loves you? Why, surely, Gil, that is not a question upon +which you want another man's judgment?" + +"No, of course not, but one is never tired of receiving the assurance of +that fact. And you could see by her way of speaking about me----" + +"She spoke of you in the prettiest manner possible. She seems to consider +you quite a superior being." + +"Dear girl, she is so good and simple-hearted. Do you know, Jack, I feel +as if I could never be sufficiently grateful to Providence for my +happiness in having won such an angel." + +"Well, you certainly have reason to consider yourself a very lucky +fellow; but I doubt if any man ever deserved good fortune better than you +do, Gilbert. And now, good-bye. It's getting unconscionably late, and I +shall scarcely get back in time to change my clothes for dinner. We spend +all our evenings in pious devotion to billiards, with a rubber or two, or +a little lansquenet towards the small hours. Don't forget your engagement +to-morrow; good-bye." + +They had a very pleasant evening at Heatherly. Sir David's guests at this +time consisted of a Major Foljambe, an elderly man who had seen a good +deal of service in India; a Mr. Harker, who had been in the church, and +had left it in disgust as alike unsuited to his tastes and capacity; Mr. +Windus Carr, a prosperous West-end solicitor, who had inherited a +first-rate practice from his father, and who devoted his talents to the +enjoyment of life, leaving his clients to the care of his partner, a +steady-going stout gentleman, with a bald head, and an inexhaustible +capacity for business; and last, but by no means least, John Saltram, +who possessed more influence over David Forster than any one else in the +world. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +SENTENCE OF EXILE. + + +After the dinner at Heatherly, John Saltram came very often to the +cottage. He did not care much for the fellows who were staying with Sir +David this year, he told Gilbert. He knew all Major Foljambe's tiger +stories by heart, and had convicted him of glaring discrepancies in his +description of the havoc he and his brother officers had made among the +big game. Windus Carr was a conceited presuming cad, who was always +boring them with impossible accounts of his conquests among the fair sex; +and that poor Harker was an unmitigated fool, whose brains had run into +his billiard-cue. This was the report which John Saltram gave of his +fellow-guests; and he left the shooting-party morning after morning to go +out boating with Gilbert and Marian, or to idle away the sunny hours on +the lawn listening to the talk of the two others, and dropping in a word +now and then in a sleepy way as he lay stretched on the grass near them, +looking up to the sky, with his arms crossed above his head. + +He called at Lidford House one day when Gilbert had told him he should +stay at home to write letters, and was duly presented to the Listers, who +made a little dinner-party in his honour a few days afterwards, to which +Captain Sedgewick and Marian were invited--a party which went off with +more brightness and gaiety than was wont to distinguish the Lidford House +entertainments. After this there was more boating--long afternoons spent +on the winding river, with occasional landings upon picturesque little +islands or wooded banks, where there were the wild-flowers Marian Nowell +loved and understood so well; more idle mornings in the cottage garden--a +happy innocent break in the common course of life, which seemed almost as +pleasant to John Saltram as to his friend. He had contrived to make +himself popular with every one at Lidford, and was an especial favourite +with Captain Sedgewick. + +He seemed so thoroughly happy amongst them, and displayed such a perfect +sympathy with them in all things, that Gilbert Fenton was taken utterly +by surprise by his abrupt departure, which happened one day without a +word of warning. He had dined at the cottage on the previous evening, and +had been in his wildest, most reckless spirits--that mood to which he was +subject at rare intervals, and in which he exercised a potent fascination +over his companions. He had beguiled the little party at the cottage +into complete forgetfulness of the hour by his unwonted eloquence upon +subjects of a deeper, higher kind than it was his habit to speak about; +and then at the last moment, when the clock on the mantelpiece had struck +twelve, he had suddenly seated himself at the piano, and sung them +Moore's "Farewell, but whenever you welcome the hour," in tones that went +straight to the hearts of the listeners. He had one of those rare +sympathetic voices which move people to tears unawares, and before the +song was ended Marian was fairly overcome, and had made a hasty escape +from the room ashamed of her emotion. + +Late as it was, Gilbert accompanied his friend for a mile of his homeward +route. He had secured a latch-key during his last visit to Lidford House, +and could let himself in quietly of a night without entrenching upon the +regular habits of Mrs. Lister's household. + +Once clear of the cottage, John Saltram's gaiety vanished all in a +moment, and gave place to a moody silence which Gilbert was powerless to +dissipate. + +"Is there anything amiss, Jack?" he asked. "I know high spirits are not +always a sign of inward contentment with you. Is there anything wrong +to-night?" + +"No." + +"Are you sure of that?" + +"Quite sure. I may be a little knocked up perhaps; that's all." + +No hint of his intended departure fell from him when they shook hands and +wished each other good-night; but early next morning a brief note was +delivered to Mr. Fenton at his sister's house to the following effect:-- + + "MY DEAR GILBERT,--I find myself obliged to leave this place for + London at once, and have not time to thank anyone for the kindness + I have received during my stay. Will you do the best to repair + this omission on my part, and offer my warmest expressions of + gratitude to Captain Sedgewick and Miss Nowell for their goodness + to me? Pray apologise for me also to Mr. and Mrs. Lister for my + inability to make my adieux in a more formal manner than this, a + shortcoming which I hope to atone for on some future visit. Tell + Lister I shall be very pleased to see him if he will look me up at + the Pnyx when he is next in town. + + "Ever yours,--JOHN SALTRAM." + +This was all. There was no explanation of the reason for this hurried +journey,--a strange omission between men who were on terms of such perfect +confidence as obtained with these two. Gilbert Fenton was not a little +disturbed by this unlooked-for event, fearing that some kind of evil had +befallen his friend. + +"His money matters may have fallen into a desperate condition," he +thought; "or perhaps that woman--that Mrs. Branston, is at the bottom of +the business." + +He went to the cottage that morning as usual, but not with his accustomed +feeling of unalloyed happiness. The serene heaven of his tranquil life +was clouded a little by this strange conduct of John Saltram's. It +wounded him to think that his old companion was keeping a secret from +him. + +"I suppose it is because I lectured him a little about Mrs. Branston the +other day," he said to himself. "The business is connected with her in +some way, I daresay, and poor Jack does not care to arouse my virtuous +indignation. That comes of taking a high moral tone with one's friend. He +swallows the pill with a decent grace at the time, and shuts one out of +his confidence ever afterwards." + +Captain Sedgewick expressed himself much surprised and disappointed by +Mr. Saltram's departure. Marian said very little upon the subject. There +seemed nothing extraordinary to her in the fact that a gentleman should +be summoned to London by the claims of business. + +Gilbert might have brooded longer upon the mystery involved in his +friend's conduct, but that evening's post brought him trouble in the +shape of bad news from Melbourne. His confidential clerk--an old man who +had been with his father for many years, and who knew every intricacy of +the business--wrote him a very long letter, dwelling upon the evil +fortune which attended all their Australian transactions of late, and +hinting at dishonesty and double-dealing on the part of Gilbert's cousin, +Astley Fenton, the local manager. + +The letter was a very sensible one, calculated to arouse a careless man +from a false sense of security. Gilbert was so much disturbed by it, that +he determined upon going back to London by the earliest fast train next +morning. It was cutting short his holiday only by a few days. He had +meant to return at the beginning of the following week, and he felt that +he had already some reason to reproach himself for his neglect of +business. + +He left Lidford happy in the thought that Captain Sedgewick and Marian +were to come to London in October. The period of separation would be +something less than a month. And after that? Well, he would of course +spend Christmas at Lidford; and he fancied how the holly and mistletoe, +the church-decorations and carol-singing, and all the stereotyped +genialities of the season,--things that had seemed trite and dreary to +him since the days of his boyhood,--would have a new significance and +beauty for him when he and Marian kept the sacred festival together. And +then how quickly would begin the new year, the year whose spring-tide +would see them man and wife! Perhaps there is no period of this mortal +life so truly happy as that in which all our thoughts are occupied in +looking forward to some great joy to come. Whether the joy, when it does +come, is ever so unqualified a delight as it seemed in the distance, or +whether it ever comes at all, are questions which we have all solved for +ourselves somehow or other. To Gilbert Fenton these day-dreams were +bright and new, and he was troubled by no fear of their not being +realized. + +He went at his business with considerable ardour, and made a careful and +detailed investigation of all affairs connected with their Melbourne +trading, assisted throughout by Samuel Dwyer, the old clerk. The result +of his examination convinced him that his cousin had been playing him +false; that the men with whom his pretended losses had been made were men +of straw, and the transactions were shadows invented to cover his own +embezzlements. It was a complicated business altogether; and it was not +until Gilbert Fenton had been engaged upon it for more than a week, and +had made searching inquiries as to the status of the firms with which the +supposed dealings had taken place, that he was able to arrive at this +conclusion. Having at last made himself master of the real state of +things, as far as it was in any way possible to do so at that distance +from the scene of action, Gilbert saw that there was only one line of +conduct open to him as a man of business. That was to go at once to +Melbourne, investigate his cousin's transactions on the spot, and take +the management of the colonial house into his own hands. To do this would +be a sore trial to him, for it would involve the postponement of his +marriage. He could scarcely hope to do what he had to do in Melbourne and +to get back to England before a later date than that which he had hoped +would be his wedding-day. Yet to do anything less than this would be +futile and foolish; and it was possible that the future stability of his +position was dependent upon his arrangement of these Melbourne +difficulties. It was his home, the prosperity of his coming life that he +had to fight for; and he told himself that he must put aside all +weakness, as he had done once before, when he turned away from the +easy-going studies and pleasures of young Oxford life to undertake a +hand-to-hand fight with evil fortune. + +He had conquered then, as he hoped to conquer now, having an energetic +nature, and a strong faith in man's power to master fortune by honest +work and patience. + +There was no time lost after once his decision was arrived at. He began +to put his affairs in order for departure immediately, and wrote to +Marian within a few hours of making up his mind as to the necessity of +this voyage. He told her frankly all that had happened, that their +fortune was at stake, and that it was his bounden duty to take this step, +hard as it might seem to him. He could not leave England without seeing +her once more, he said, recently as they had parted, and brief as his +leisure must needs be. There were so many things he would have to say to +her on the eve of this cruel separation. + +He went down to Lidford one evening when all the arrangements for his +voyage were complete, and he had two clear days at his disposal before +the vessel he was to go in left Liverpool. The Listers were very much +surprised and shocked when he told them what he was going to do; Mrs. +Lister bitterly bewailing the insecurity of all commercial positions, and +appearing to consider her brother on the verge of bankruptcy. + +He found a warm welcome at the cottage from the Captain, who heartily +approved of the course he was taking, and was full of hopefulness about +the future. + +"A few months more or less can make little difference," he said, when +Gilbert was lamenting the postponement of his wedding. "Marian will be +quite safe in her old uncle's care; and I do not suppose either of you +will love each other any the less for the delay. I have such perfect +confidence in you, Gilbert, you see; and it is such a happiness to me to +know that my darling's future is in the hands of a man I can so +thoroughly trust. Were you reduced to absolute poverty, with the battle +of life to fight all over again, I would give you my dear girl without +fear of the issue. I know you are of the stuff that is not to be beaten; +and I believe that neither time nor circumstance could ever change your +love for her." + +"You may believe that. Every day makes her dearer to me. I should be +ashamed to tell you how bitterly I feel this parting, and what a +desperate mental struggle I went through before I could make up my mind +to go." + +Marian came into the room in the midst of this conversation. She was very +pale, and her eyes had a dull, heavy look. The bad news in Gilbert's +letter had distressed her even more than he had anticipated. + +"My darling," he said tenderly, looking down at the changed face, with +her cold hand clasped in his own, "how ill you are looking! I fear I made +my letter too dismal, and that it frightened you." + +"Oh no, no. I am very sorry you should have this bad fortune, Gilbert, +that is all." + +"There is nothing which I do not hope to repair, dear. The losses are not +more than I can stand. All that I take to heart is the separation from +you, Marian." + +"I am not worth so much regret," she said, with her eyes fixed upon the +ground, and her hands clasping and unclasping each other nervously. + +"Not worth so much regret, Marian!" he exclaimed. "You are all the world +to me; the beginning and end of my universe." + +She looked a little brighter by-and-by, when her lover had done his best +to cheer her with hopeful talk, which cost him no small effort in the +depressed state of his mind. The day went by very slowly, although it was +the last which those two were to spend together until Gilbert Fenton's +return. It was a hopelessly wet day, with a perpetual drizzling rain and +a leaden-gray sky; weather which seemed to harmonise well enough with the +pervading gloom of Gilbert's thoughts as he stood by the fire, leaning +against an angle of the mantelpiece, and watching Marian's needle moving +monotonously in and out of the canvas. + +The Captain, who led an easy comfortable kind of life at all times, was +apt to dispose of a good deal of his leisure in slumber upon such a day +as this. He sat down in his own particular easy-chair, dozing behind the +shelter of a newspaper, and lulled agreeably by the low sound of Gilbert +and Marian's conversation. + +So the quiet hours went by, overshadowed by the gloom of that approaching +separation. After dinner, when they had returned to the drawing-room, and +Captain Sedgewick had refreshed his intellectual powers with copious +draughts of strong tea, he began to talk of Marian's childhood, and the +circumstances which had thrown her into his hand. + +"I don't suppose my little girl ever showed you her mother's jewel-case, +did she, Gilbert?" he asked. + +"Never." + +"I thought as much. It contains that old-fashioned jewelry I spoke +of--family relics, which I have sometimes fancied might be of use to her, +if ever her birthright were worth claiming. But I doubt if that will ever +happen now that so many years have gone by, and there has been no +endeavour to trace her. Run and fetch the case, Marian. There are some of +its contents which Gilbert ought to see before he leaves England--papers +which I intended to show him when I first told him your mother's story." + +Marian left them, and came back in a few minutes carrying an +old-fashioned ebony jewel-case, inlaid with brass. She unlocked it with a +little key hanging to her watch-chain, and exhibited its contents to +Gilbert Fenton. There were some curious old rings, of no great value; a +seal-ring with a crest cut on a bloodstone--a crest of that common kind +of device which does not imply noble or ancient lineage on the part of +the bearer thereof; a necklace and earrings of amethyst; a gold bracelet +with a miniature of a young man, whose handsome face had a hard +disagreeable expression; a locket containing grey hair, and having a +date and the initials "M.G." engraved on the massive plain gold case. + +These were all the trinkets. In a secret drawer there was a certificate +of marriage between Percival Nowell, bachelor, gentleman, and Lucy +Geoffry, spinster, at St. Pancras Church, London. The most interesting +contents of the jewel-case consisted of a small packet of letters written +by Percival Nowell to Lucy Geoffry before their marriage. + +"I have read them carefully ever so many times, with the notion that they +might throw some light upon Mr. and Mrs. Nowell's antecedents," said the +Captain, as Gilbert held these in his hands, disinclined to look at +documents of so private and sacred a character; "but they tell very +little. I fancy that Miss Geoffry was a governess in some family in +London--the envelopes are missing, you see, so there is no evidence as to +where she was living, except that it _was_ in London--and that she left +her employment to marry this Percival Nowell. You'd like to read the +letters yourself, I daresay, Gilbert. Put them in your pocket, and look +them over at your leisure when you get home. You can bring them back +before you leave Lidford." + +Mr. Fenton glanced at Marian to see if she had any objection to his +reading the letters. She was quite silent, looking absently at the +trinkets lying in the tray before her. + +"You don't mind my reading your father's letters, Marian?" he asked. + +"Not at all. Only I think you will find them very uninteresting." + +"I am interested in everything that concerns you." + +He put the papers in his pocket, and sat up for an hour in his room that +night reading Percival Nowell's love letters. They revealed very little +to him, except the unmitigated selfishness of the writer. That quality +exhibited itself in every page. The lovers had met for the first time at +the house of some Mr. Crosby, in whose family Miss Geoffry seemed to be +living; and there were clandestine meetings spoken of in the Regent's +Park, for which reason Gilbert supposed Mr. Crosby's house must have been +in that locality. There were broken appointments, for which Miss Geoffry +was bitterly reproached by her lover, who abused the whole Crosby +household in a venomous manner for having kept her at home at these +times. + +"If you loved me, as you pretend, Lucy," Mr. Nowell wrote on one +occasion, "you would speedily exchange this degrading slavery for liberty +and happiness with me, and would be content to leave the future _utterly_ +in my hands, without question or fear. A really generous woman would do +this." + +There was a good deal more to the same effect, and it seemed as if the +proposal of marriage came at last rather reluctantly; but it did come, +and was repeated, and urged in a very pressing manner; while Lucy Geoffry +to the last appeared to have hung back, as if dreading the result of that +union. + +The letters told little of the writer's circumstances or social status. +Whenever he alluded to his father, it was with anger and contempt, and in +a manner that implied some quarrel between them; but there was nothing to +indicate what kind of man the father was. + +Gilbert Fenton took the packet back to the cottage next morning. He was +to return to London that afternoon, and had only a few hours to spend +with Marian. The day was dull and cold, but there was no rain; and they +walked together in the garden, where the leaves were beginning to fall, +and whence every appearance of summer seemed to have vanished since +Gilbert's last visit. + +For some time they were both rather silent, pacing thoughtfully up and +down the sheltered walk that bounded the lawn. Gilbert found it +impossible to put on an appearance of hopefulness on this last day. It +was better wholly to give up the attempt, and resign himself to the gloom +that brooded over him, shutting out the future. That airy castle of +his--the villa on the banks of the Thames--seemed to have faded and +vanished altogether. He could not look beyond the Australian journey to +the happy time of his return. The hazards of time and distance bewildered +him. He felt an unspeakable dread of the distance that was to divide him +from Marian Nowell--a dread that grew stronger with every hour. He was +destined to suffer a fresh pang before the moment of parting came. Marian +turned to him by-and-by with an earnest anxious face, and said,-- + +"Gilbert, there is something which I think I ought to say to you before +you go away." + +"What is that, my darling?" + +"It is rather hard to say. I fear it will give you pain. I have been +thinking about it for a long time. The thought has been a constant +reproach to me. Gilbert, it would be better if we were both free; better +if you could leave England without any tie to weigh you down with +anxieties when you are out yonder, and will have so much occasion for +perfect freedom of mind." + +"Marian!" + +"O, pray, pray don't think me ungrateful or unmindful of your goodness to +me. I am only anxious for your happiness. I am not steady enough, or +fixed enough, in my mind. I am not worthy of all the thought and care you +have given me." + +"Marian, have I done anything to forfeit your love?" + +"O no, no." + +"Then why do you say these things to me? Do you want to break my heart?" + +"Would it break your heart if I were to recall my promise, Gilbert?" + +"Yes, Marian," he answered gravely, drawing her suddenly to him, and +looking into her face with earnest scrutinising eyes; "but if you do not +love me, if you cannot love me--and God knows how happy I have been in +the belief that I had won your love long ago--let the word be spoken. I +will bear it, my dear, I will bear it." + +"O no, no," she cried, shocked by the dead whiteness of his face, and +bursting into tears. "I will try to be worthy of you. I will try to love +you as you deserve to be loved. It was only a fancy of mine that it would +be better for you to be free from all thoughts of me. I think it would +seem very hard to me to lose your love. I don't think I could bear that, +Gilbert." + +She looked up at him with an appealing expression through her tears--an +innocent, half-childish look that went to his heart--and he clasped her +to his breast, believing that this proposal to set him free had been +indeed nothing more than a girlish caprice. + +"My dearest, my life is bound up with your love," he said. "Nothing can +part us except your ceasing to love me." + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +"GOOD-BYE." + + +The hour for the final parting came at last, and Gilbert Fenton turned +his back upon the little gate by which he had watched Marian Nowell +standing upon that first summer Sunday evening which sealed his destiny. + +He left Lidford weary at heart, weighed down by a depression he had +vainly struggled against, and he brooded over his troubles all the way +back to town. It seemed as if all the hopes that had made life so sweet +to him only a week ago had been swept away. He could not look beyond that +dreary Australian exile; he could not bring his thoughts to bear upon the +time that was to come afterwards, and which need be no less bright +because of this delay. + +"She may die while I am away," he thought. "O God, if that were to +happen! If I were to come back and find her dead! Such things have been; +and men and women have borne them, and gone on living." + +He had one more duty to perform before he left England. He had to say +good-bye to John Saltram, whom he had not seen since they parted that +night at Lidford. He could not leave England without some kind of +farewell to his old friend, and he had reserved this last evening for the +duty. + +He went to the Pnyx on the chance of finding Saltram there, and failing +in that, ate his solitary dinner in the coffee-room. The waiters told him +that Mr. Saltram had not been at the club for some weeks. Gilbert did not +waste much time over his dinner, and went straight from the Pnyx to the +Temple, where John Saltram had a second-floor in Figtree-court. + +Mr. Saltram was at home. It was his own sonorous voice which answered +Gilbert's knock, bidding him enter with a muttered curse upon the +interruption by way of addendum. The room into which Mr. Fenton went upon +receiving this unpromising invitation was in a state of chaotic +confusion. An open portmanteau sprawled upon the floor, and a whole +wardrobe of masculine garments seemed to have been shot at random on to +the chairs near it; a dozen soda-water bottles, full and empty, were +huddled in one corner; a tea-tray tottered on the extreme edge of a table +heaped with dusty books and papers; and at a desk in the centre of the +room, with a great paraffin lamp flaring upon his face as he wrote, sat +John Saltram, surrounded by fallen slips of copy, writing as if to win a +wager. + +"Who is it? and what do you want?" he asked in a husky voice, without +looking up from his paper or suspending the rapid progress of his pen. + +"Why, Jack, I don't think I ever caught you so hard at work before." + +John Saltram dropped his pen at the sound of his friend's voice and got +up. He gave Gilbert his hand in a mechanical kind of way. + +"No, I don't generally go at it quite so hard; but you know I have a +knack of doing things against time. I have been giving myself a spell of +hard work in order to pick up a little cash for the children of Israel." + +He dropped back into his chair, and Gilbert took one opposite him. The +lamp shone full upon John Saltram's face as he sat at his desk; and after +looking at him for a moment by that vivid light, Gilbert Fenton gave a +cry of surprise. + +"What is the matter, Gil?" + +"You are the matter. You are looking as worn and haggard as if you'd had +a long illness since I saw you last. I never remember you looking so ill. +This kind of thing won't do, John. You'd soon kill yourself at this +rate." + +"Not to be done, my dear fellow. I am the toughest thing in creation. I +have been sitting up all night for the last week or so, and that does +rather impair the freshness of one's complexion; but I assure you +there's nothing so good for a man as a week or two of unbroken work. I +have been doing an exhaustive review of Roman literature for one of the +quarterlies, and the subject involved a little more reading than I was +quite prepared for." + +"And you have really not been ill?" + +"Not in the least. I am never ill." + +He pushed aside his papers, and sat with his elbow on the desk and his +head leaning on his hand, waiting for Gilbert to talk. He was evidently +in one of those silent moods which were common to him at times. + +Gilbert told him of his Melbourne troubles, and of his immediate +departure. The announcement roused him from his absent humour. He dropped +his arm from the table suddenly, and sat looking full at Gilbert with a +very intent expression. + +"This is strange news," he said, "and it will cause the postponement of +your marriage, I suppose?" + +"Unhappily, yes; that is unavoidable. Hard lines, isn't it, Jack?" + +"Well, yes; I daresay the separation seems rather a hardship; but you are +young enough to stand a few months' delay. When do you sail?" + +"To-morrow." + +"So soon?" + +"Yes. It is a case in which everything depends upon rapidity of action. I +leave Liverpool to-morrow afternoon. I came up from Lidford to-day on +purpose to spend a few farewell hours with you. And I have been thinking, +Jack, that you might run down to Liverpool with me to-morrow, and see the +last of me, eh, old fellow?" + +John Saltram hesitated, looking doubtfully at his papers. + +"It would be only a kind thing to do, Jack, and a wholesome change for +yourself into the bargain. Anything would be better for you than being +shut up in these chambers another day." + +"Well, Gilbert, I'll go with you," said Mr. Saltram presently with a kind +of recklessness. "It is a small thing to do for friendship. Yes, I'll see +you off, dear boy. Egad, I wish I could go to Australia with you. I +would, if it were not for my engagements with the children and sundry +other creditors. I think a new country might do me good. But there's no +use in talking about that. I'm bound hand and foot to the old one." + +"That reminds me of something I had to say to you, John. There must have +been some reason for your leaving Lidford in that sudden way the other +day, and your note explained nothing. I thought you and I had no secrets +from each other, It's scarcely fair to treat me like that." + +"The business was hardly worth explaining," answered the other moodily. +"A bill that I had forgotten for the time fell due just then, and I +hurried off to set things straight." + +"Let me help you somehow or other, Jack." + +"No, Gilbert; I will never suffer you to become entangled in the +labyrinth of my affairs. You don't know what a hopeless wilderness you +would enter if you were desperate enough to attempt my rescue. I have +been past redemption for the last ten years, ever since I left Oxford. +Nothing but a rich marriage will ever set me straight; and I sometimes +doubt if that game is worth the candle, and whether it would not be +better to make a clean sweep of my engagements, offer up my name to the +execration of mankind and the fiery indignation of solvent +journalists,--who would find subject for sensation leaders in my +iniquities,--emigrate, and turn bushranger. A wild free life in the +wilderness must be a happy exchange for all the petty worries and +perplexities of this cursed existence." + +"And how about Mrs. Branston, John? By the way, I thought that she might +have had something to do with your sudden journey to London." + +"No; she had nothing to do with it. I have not seen her since I came back +from Lidford." + +"Indeed!" + +"No. Your lecture had a potent effect, you see," said Mr. Saltram, with +something of a sneer. "You have almost cured me of that passion." + +"My opinion would have very little influence if you were far gone, John. +The fact is, Mrs. Branston, pretty and agreeable as she may be, is not +the sort of woman to acquire any strong hold upon you." + +"You think not?" + +"I am sure of it." + +After this John Saltram became more expansive. They sat together until +late in the night, talking chiefly of the past, old friends, and +half-forgotten days; recalling the scenes through which they had +travelled together with a pensive tenderness, and dwelling regretfully +upon that careless bygone time when life was fresh for both of them, and +the future seemed to lie across the straightest, easiest high-road to +reputation and happiness. + +Gilbert spoke of that perilous illness of his in Egypt, the fever in +which he had been given over by every one, and only saved at last by the +exemplary care and devotion of his friend. John Saltram had a profound +objection to this thing being talked about, and tried immediately to +change the drift of the conversation; but to-night Gilbert was not to be +stopped. + +"You refuse the help of my purse, Jack," he said, "and forget that I owe +you my life. I should never have been to the fore to navigate the good +ship Fenton and Co., if it hadn't been for your care. The doctor fellow +at Cairo told me as much in very plain terms. Yes, John, I consider +myself your debtor to the amount of a life." + +"Saving a man's life is sometimes rather a doubtful boon. I think if I +had a fever, and some officious fool dragged me through it when I was in +a fair way to make a decent end, I should be very savagely disposed +towards him." + +"Why, John Saltram, you are the last man in the world from whom I should +expect that dreary kind of talk. Yet I suppose it's only a natural +consequence of shutting yourself up in these rooms for ten days at a +stretch." + +"What good use have I made of my life in the past, Gilbert?" demanded the +other bitterly; "and what have I to look forward to in the future? To +marry, and redeem my position by the aid of a woman's money. That's +hardly the noblest destiny that can befall a man. And yet I think if +Adela Branston were free, and willing to marry me, I might make something +of my life. I might go into Parliament, and make something of a name for +myself. I could write books instead of anonymous articles. I should +scarcely sink down into an idle mindless existence of dinner-giving and +dinner-eating. Yes, I think the best thing that could happen to me would +be to marry Adela Branston." + +They parted at last, John Saltram having faithfully promised his friend +to work no more that night, and they met at Euston Square early the next +morning for the journey to Liverpool. Gilbert had never found his +friend's company more delightful than on this last day. It seemed as if +John Saltram put away every thought of self in his perfect sympathy with +the thoughts and feelings of the traveller. They dined together, and it +was dusk when they wished each other good-bye on the deck of the vessel. + +"Good-bye, Gilbert, and God bless you! If--if anything should happen to +me--if I should have gone to the bad utterly before you come back, you +must try to remember our friendship of the past. Think that I have loved +you very dearly--as well as one man ever loved another, perhaps." + +"My dear John, you have no need to tell me to think that. Nothing can +ever weaken the love between us. And you are not likely to go to the bad. +Good bye, dear old friend. I shall remember you every day of my life. You +are second only to Marian in my heart. I shall write you an account of my +proceedings, and shall expect to hear from you. Once more, good bye." + +The bell rang. Gilbert Fenton and his friend shook hands in silence for +the last time, and in the next moment John Saltram ran down the steps to +the little steamer which had brought them out to the larger vessel. The +sails spread wide in the cool evening wind, and the mighty ship glided +away into the dusk. John Saltram's last look showed him his friend's face +gazing down upon him over the bulwarks full of trust and affection. + +He went back to London by the evening express, and reached his chambers +at a late hour that night. There had been some attempt at tidying the +rooms in his absence; but his books and papers had been undisturbed. Some +letters were lying on the desk, amongst them one in a big scrawling hand +that was very familiar to Mr. Saltram, the envelope stamped "Lidford." He +tore this open eagerly. It was from Sir David Forster. + + "DEAR SALTRAM" (wrote the Baronet),--"What do you mean by this + iniquitous conduct? You only obtained my consent to your hurried + departure the other day on condition you should come back in a + week, yet there are no signs of you. Foljambe and the lawyer are + gone, and I am alone with Harker, whose stupidity is something + marvellous. I am dying by inches of this dismal state of things. I + can't tell the man to go, you see, for he is really a most worthy + creature, although such a consummate fool. For pity's sake come to + me. You can do your literary work down here as well as in London, + and I promise to respect your laborious hours.--Ever yours, + + "DAVID FORSTER." + +John Saltram stood with this letter open in his hand, staring blankly at +it, like a man lost in a dream. + +"Go back!" he muttered at last--"go back, when I thought I did such a +great thing in coming away! No, I am not weak enough for that folly." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +MISSING. + + +On the 5th of July in the following year, Gilbert Fenton landed in +England, after nearly ten months of exile. He had found hard work to do +in the colonial city, and had done it; surmounting every difficulty by a +steady resolute course of action. + +Astley Fenton had tried to shelter his frauds, heaping falsehood upon +falsehood; and had ended by making a full confession, after receiving his +cousin's promise not to prosecute. The sums made away with by him +amounted to some thousands. Gilbert found that he had been leading a life +of reckless extravagance, and was a notorious gambler. So there came an +evening when after a prolonged investigation of affairs, Astley Fenton +put on his hat, and left his cousin's office for ever. When Gilbert heard +of him next, he was clerk to a bookseller in Sydney. + +The disentanglement of the Melbourne trading had occupied longer than +Gilbert expected; and his exile had been especially dreary to him during +the last two months he spent in Australia, from the failure of his +English letters. The first two mails after his arrival had brought him +letters from Marian and her uncle, and one short note from John Saltram. +The mails that followed brought him nothing, and he was inexpressibly +alarmed and distressed by this fact. If he could by any possibility have +returned to England immediately after the arrival of the first mail which +brought him no letter, he would have done so. But his journey would have +been wasted had he not remained to complete the work of reorganization he +had commenced; so he stayed, sorely against the grain, hoping to get a +letter by the next mail. + +That came, and with the same dispiriting result to Gilbert Fenton. There +was a letter from his sister, it is true; but that was written from +Switzerland, where she was travelling with her husband, and brought him +no tidings of Marian. He tried to convince himself that if there had been +bad news, it must needs have come to him; that the delay was only the +result of accident, some mistake of Marian's as to the date of the mail. +What more natural than that she should make such a mistake, at a place +with such deficient postal arrangements as those which obtained at +Lidford? But, argue with himself as he might, this silence of his +betrothed was none the less perplexing to him, and he was a prey to +perpetual anxiety during the time that elapsed before the sailing of the +vessel that was to convey him back to England. + +Then came the long monotonous voyage, affording ample leisure for gloomy +thoughts, for shapeless fears in the dead watches of the night, when the +sea washed drearily against his cabin window, and he lay broad awake +counting the hours that must wear themselves out before he could set foot +on English ground. As the time of his arrival drew nearer, his mind grew +restless and fitful, now full of hope and happy visions of his meeting +with Marian, now weighed down by the burden of some unspeakable terror. + +The day dawned at last, that sultry summer day, and Gilbert was amongst +those eager passengers who quitted the vessel at daybreak. + +He went straight from the quay to the railway-station, and the delay of +an hour which he had to endure here seemed almost interminable to him. As +he paced to and fro the long platform waiting for the London express, he +wondered how he had borne all the previous delay, how he had been able +to live through that dismal agonizing time. His own patience was a +mystery to him now that the ordeal was over. + +The express started at last, and he sat quietly in his corner trying to +read a newspaper; while his fellow-travellers discussed the state of +trade in Liverpool, which seemed from their account to be as desperate +and hopeless as the condition of all commerce appears invariably to be +whenever commercial matters come under discussion. Gilbert Fenton was not +interested in the Liverpool trade at this particular crisis. He knew that +he had weathered the storm which had assailed his own fortunes, and that +the future lay clear and bright before him. + +He did not waste an hour in London, but went straight from one station to +another, and was in time to catch a train for Fairleigh, the station +nearest to Lidford. It was five o'clock in the afternoon when he arrived +at this place, and chartered a fly to take him over to Lidford--a lovely +summer afternoon. The sight of the familiar English scenery, looking so +exquisite in its summer glory, filled him with a pleasure that was almost +akin to pain. He had often walked this road with Marian; and as he drove +along he looked eagerly at every distant figure, half hoping to see his +darling approach him in the summer sunlight. + +Mr. Fenton deposited his carpet-bag at the cosy village inn, where +snow-white curtains fluttered gaily at every window in the warm western +breeze, and innumerable geraniums made a gaudy blaze of scarlet against +the wooden wall. He did not stop here to make any inquiries about those +he had come to see. His heart was beating tumultuously in expectation of +the meeting that seemed so near. He alighted from the fly, dismissed the +driver, and walked rapidly across a field leading by a short cut to the +green on which Captain Sedgewick's house stood. This field brought him to +the side of the green opposite the Captain's cottage. He stopped for a +moment as he came through the little wooden gate, and looked across the +grass, where a regiment of geese was marching towards the still pool of +willow-shadowed water. + +The shutters of the upper rooms were closed, and there was a board above +the garden-gate. The cottage was to be let. + +Gilbert Fenton's heart gave one great throb, and then seemed to cease +beating altogether. He walked across the green slowly, stunned by this +unlooked-for blow. Yes, the house was empty. The garden, which he +remembered in such exquisite order, had a weedy dilapidated look that +seemed like the decay of some considerable time. He rang the bell several +times, but there was no answer; and he was turning away from the gate +with the stunned confused feeling still upon him, unable to consider what +he ought to do next, when he heard himself called by his name, and saw a +woman looking at him across the hedge of the neighbouring garden. + +"Were you wishing to make any inquiries about the last occupants of Hazel +Cottage, sir?" she asked. + +"Yes," Gilbert answered huskily, looking at her in an absent unseeing +way. + +He had seen her often during his visits to the cottage, busy at work in +her garden, which was much smaller than the Captain's, but he had never +spoken to her before to-day. + +She was a maiden lady, who eked out her slender income by letting a part +of her miniature abode whenever an opportunity for so doing occurred. The +care of this cottage occupied all her days, and formed the delight and +glory of her life. It was a little larger than a good-sized doll's house, +and furnished with spindle-legged chairs and tables that had been +polished to the last extremity of brightness. + +"Perhaps you would be so good as to walk into my sitting-room for a few +moments, sir," said this lady, opening her garden-gate. "I shall be most +happy to afford you any information about your friends." + +"You are very good," said Gilbert, following her into the prim little +parlour. + +He had recovered his self-possession in some degree by this time, telling +himself that this desertion of Hazel Cottage involved no more than a +change of residence. + +"My name is Dodd," said the lady, motioning Mr. Fenton to a chair, "Miss +Letitia Dodd. I had the pleasure of seeing you very often during your +visits next door. I was not on visiting terms with Captain Sedgewick and +Miss Nowell, although we bowed to each other out of doors. I am only a +tradesman's daughter--indeed my brother is now carrying on business as a +butcher in Fairleigh--and of course I am quite aware of the difference in +our positions. I am the last person to intrude myself upon my superiors." + +"If you will be so kind as to tell me where they have gone?" Gilbert +asked, eager to stop this formal statement of Miss Dodd's social +standing. + +"Where _they_ have gone!" she repeated. "Dear, dear! Then you do not +know----" + +"I do not know what?" + +"Of Captain Sedgewick's death." + +"Good God! My dear old friend! When did he die?" + +"At the beginning of the year. It was very sudden--a fit of apoplexy. He +was seized in the night, poor dear gentleman, and it was only discovered +when the servant went to call him in the morning. He only lived two days +after the seizure; and never spoke again." + +"And Miss Nowell--what made her leave the cottage? She is still at +Lidford, I suppose?" + +"O dear no, Mr. Fenton. She went away altogether about a month after the +Captain's death." + +"Where did she go?" + +"I cannot tell you that, I did not even know that she intended leaving +Hazel Cottage until the day after she left. When I saw the shutters +closed and the board up, you might have knocked me down with a feather. +Miss Nowell was so much liked in Lidford, and she had more than one +invitation from friends to stay with them for the sake of a change after +her uncle's death; but she would not visit anywhere. She stayed quite +alone in the cottage, with only the old servant." + +"But there must surely be some one in the place who knows where she has +gone!" exclaimed Gilbert. + +"I think not. The landlord of Hazel Cottage does not know. He is my +landlord also, and I was asking him about Miss Nowell when I paid my rent +the other day. He said he supposed she had gone away to be married. That +has been the general impression, in fact, at Lidford. People made sure +that Miss Nowell had left to be married to you." + +"I have only just returned from Australia. I have come back to fulfil my +engagement to Miss Nowell. Can you suggest no one from whom I am likely +to obtain information?" + +"There is the family at the Rectory; they knew her very well, and were +extremely kind to her after her uncle's death. It might be worth your +while to call upon Mr. Marchant." + +"Yes, I will call," Gilbert answered; "thanks for the suggestion." + +He wished Miss Dodd good-afternoon, and left her standing at the gate of +her little garden, watching him with profound interest as he walked away +towards the village. There was a pleasing mystery in the affair, to the +mind of Miss Dodd. + +Gilbert Fenton went at once to the Rectory, although it was now past +seven o'clock. He had met Mr. and Mrs. Marchant several times, and had +visited them with the Listers. + +The Rector was at home, sitting over his solitary glass of port by the +open window of his snug dining-room, looking lazily out at a group of +sons and daughters playing croquet on the lawn. He was surprised to see +Mr. Fenton, but welcomed him with much cordiality. + +"I have come to you full of care, Mr. Marchant," Gilbert began; "and the +pressing nature of my business must excuse the lateness of my visit." + +"There is no occasion for any excuse. I am very glad to see you at this +time. Pray help yourself to some wine, there are clean glasses near you; +and take some of those strawberries, on which my wife prides herself +amazingly. People who live in the country all their days are obliged to +give their minds to horticulture. And now, what is this care of yours, +Mr. Fenton? Nothing very serious, I hope." + +"It is very serious to me at present. I think you know that I am engaged +to Miss Nowell." + +"Perfectly. I had imagined until this moment that you and she were +married. When she left Lidford, I concluded that she had gone to stay +with friends of yours, and that the marriage would, in all probability, +take place at an early period, without any strict observance of etiquette +as to her mourning for her uncle. It was natural that we should think +this, knowing her solitary position." + +"Then you do not know where she went on leaving this place?" + +"Not in the faintest degree. Her departure was altogether unexpected by +us. My wife and daughters called upon her two or three times after the +Captain's death, and were even anxious that she should come here to stay +for a short time; but she would not do that. She seemed grateful, and +touched by their anxiety about her, but they could not bring her to talk +of her future." + +"And she told them nothing of her intention to leave Lidford?" + +"Not a word." + +This was all that Gilbert Fenton could learn. His interview with the +Rector lasted some time longer; but it told him nothing. Whom next could +he question? He knew all Marian's friends, and he spent the next day in +calling upon them, but with the same result; no one could tell him her +reason for leaving Hazel Cottage, or where she had gone. + +There remained only one person whom he could question, and that was the +old servant who had lived with Captain Sedgewick nearly all the time of +his residence at Lidford, and whom Gilbert had conciliated by numerous +gifts during his visits to Hazel Cottage. She was a good-humoured honest +creature, of about fifty, and had been devoted to the Captain and Marian. + +After a good deal of trouble, Gilbert ascertained that this woman had not +accompanied her young mistress when she left Lidford, but had taken +service in a grocer's family at Fairleigh. Having discovered this, Mr. +Fenton set off immediately for the little market-town, on foot this time, +and with his mind full of the days when he and Marian had walked this way +together. + +He found the shop to which he had been directed--a roomy old-fashioned +emporium in the High-street, sunk three or four feet below the level of +the pavement, and approached by a couple of steps; a shop with a low +ceiling, that was made lower by bunches of candles, hams, bacon, and +other merchandise hanging from the massive beams that spanned it. Mr. +Fenton, having duly stated his business, was shown into the grocer's best +parlour--a resplendent apartment, where there were more ornaments in the +way of shell-and-feather flowers under glass shades, and Bohemian glass +scent-bottles, than were consistent with luxurious occupation, and where +every chair and sofa was made a perfect veiled prophet by enshrouding +antimacassors. Here Sarah Down, the late Captain's servant, came to Mr. +Fenton, wiping her hands and arms upon a spotless canvas apron, and +generally apologetic as to her appearance. To this woman Gilbert repeated +the question he had asked of others, with the same disheartening result. + +"The poor dear young lady felt the Captain's loss dreadfully; as well she +might, when they had been so fond of each other," Sarah Down said, in +answer to one of Gilbert's inquiries. "I never knew any one grieve so +deeply. She wouldn't go anywhere, and she couldn't bear to see any one +who came to see her. She used to shut herself up in the Captain's room +day after day, kneeling by his bedside, and crying as if her heart would +break. I have looked through the keyhole sometimes, and seen her there on +her knees, with her face buried in the bedclothes. She didn't care to +talk about him even to me, and I had hard work to persuade her to eat or +drink enough to keep life in her at this time. When the days were fine, I +used to try and get her to walk out a little, for she looked as white as +a ghost for want of air; and after a good deal of persuasion, she did go +out sometimes of an afternoon, but she wouldn't ask any one to walk with +her, though there were plenty she might have asked--the young ladies from +the Rectory and others. She preferred being alone, she told me, and I was +glad that she should get the air and the change anyhow. She brightened a +little after this, but very little. It was all of a sudden one day that +she told me she was going away. I wanted to go with her, but she said +that couldn't be. I asked her where she was going, and she told me, after +hesitating a little, that she was going to friends in London. I knew she +had been very fond of two young ladies that she went to school with at +Lidford, whose father lived in London; and I thought it was to their +house she was going. I asked her if it was, and she said yes. She made +arrangements with the landlord about selling the furniture. He is an +auctioneer himself, and there was no difficulty about that. The money was +to be sent to her at a post-office in London. I wondered at that, but she +said it was better so. She paid every sixpence that was owing, and gave +me a handsome present over and above my wages; though I didn't want to +take anything from her, poor dear young lady, knowing that there was very +little left after the Captain's death, except the furniture, which wasn't +likely to bring much. And so she went away about two days after she first +mentioned that she was going to leave Lidford. It was all very sudden, +and I don't think she bade good-bye to any one in the place. She seemed +quite broken down with grief in those two last days. I shall never forget +her poor pale face when she got into the fly." + +"How did she go? From the station here?" + +"I don't know anything about that, except that the fly came to the +cottage for her and her luggage. I wanted to go to the station with her, +to see her off, but she wouldn't let me." + +"Did she mention me during the time that followed Captain Sedgewick's +death?" + +"Only when I spoke about you, sir. I used to try to comfort her, telling +her she had you still left to care for her, and to make up for him she'd +lost. But she used to look at me in a strange pitiful sort of way, and +shake her head. 'I am very miserable, Sarah,' she would say to me; 'I am +quite alone in the world now my dear uncle is gone, and I don't know what +to do.' I told her she ought to look forward to the time when she would +be married, and would have a happy home of her own; but I could never get +her to talk of that." + +"Can you tell me the name and address of her friends in London--the young +ladies with whom she went to school?" + +"The name is Bruce, sir; and they live, or they used to live at that +time, in St. John's-wood. I have heard Miss Nowell say that, but I don't +know the name of the street or number of the house." + +"I daresay I shall be able to find them. It is a strange business, Sarah. +It is most unaccountable that my dearest girl should have left Lidford +without writing me word of her removal and her intentions with regard to +the future--that she should have sent me no announcement of her uncle's +death, although she must have known how well I loved him. I am going to +ask you a question that is very painful to me, but which must be asked +sooner or later. Do you know of any one else whom she may have liked +better than me--any one whose influence may have governed her at the time +she left Lidford?" + +"No, indeed, sir," replied the woman, promptly. "Who else was there? Miss +Nowell knew so few gentlemen, and saw no one except the Rector's family +and two or three ladies after the uncle's death." + +"Not at the cottage, perhaps. But she may have seen some one +out-of-doors. You say she always went out alone at that time, and +preferred to do so." + +"Yes, sir, that is true. But it seemed natural enough that she should +like to be alone on account of her grief." + +"There must have been some reason for her silence towards me, Sarah. She +could not have acted so cruelly without some powerful motive. Heaven only +knows what it may have been. The business of my life will be to find +her--to see her face to face once more, and hear the explanation of her +conduct from her own lips." + +He thanked the woman for her information, slipped a sovereign into her +hand, and departed. He called upon the proprietor of Hazel Cottage, an +auctioneer, surveyor, and house-agent in the High-street of Fairleigh, +but could obtain no fresh tidings from this gentleman, except the fact +that the money realised by the Captain's furniture had been sent to Miss +Nowell at a post-office in the City, and had been duly acknowledged by +her, after a delay of about a week. The auctioneer showed Gilbert the +letter of receipt, which was worded in a very formal business-like +manner, and bore no address but "London." The sight of the familiar hand +gave him a sharp pang. O God, how he had languished for a letter in that +handwriting! + +He had nothing more to do after this in the neighbourhood of Lidford, +except to pay a pious visit to the Captain's grave, where a handsome slab +of granite recorded the virtues of the dead. It lay in the prettiest, +most retired part of the churchyard, half-hidden under a wide-spreading +yew. Gilbert Fenton sat down upon a low wall near at hand for a long +time, brooding over his broken life, and wishing himself at rest beneath +that solemn shelter. + +"She never loved me," he said to himself bitterly. "I shut my eyes +obstinately to the truth, or I might have discovered the secret of her +indifference by a hundred signs and tokens. I fancied that a man who +loved a woman as I loved her must succeed in winning her heart at last. +And I accepted her girlish trust in me, her innocent gratitude for my +attentions, as the evidence of her love. Even at the last, when she +wanted to release me, I would not understand. I did not expect to be +loved as I loved her. I would have given so much, and been content to +take so little. What is there I would not have done--what sacrifice of my +own pride that I would not have happily made to win her! O my darling, +even in your desertion of me you might have trusted me better than this! +You would have found me fond and faithful through every trial, your +friend in spite of every wrong." + +He knelt down by the grave, and pressed his lips to the granite on which +George Sedgewick's name was chiselled. + +"I owe it to the dead to discover her fate," he said to himself, as he +rose from that reverent attitude. "I owe it to the dead to penetrate the +secret of her new life, to assure myself that she is happy, and has +fallen under no fatal influence." + +The Listers were still abroad, and Gilbert was very glad that it was so. +It would have excruciated him to hear his sister's comments on Marian's +conduct, and to perceive the suppressed exultation with which she would +most likely have discussed this unhappy termination to an engagement +which had been entered on in utter disregard of her counsel. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +JOHN SALTRAM'S ADVICE. + + +Mr. Fenton discovered the Bruce family in Boundary-road, St. John's-wood, +after a good deal of trouble. But they could tell him nothing of their +dear friend Miss Nowell, of whom they spoke with the warmest regard. They +had never seen her since they had left the school at Lidford, where they +had been boarders, and she a daily pupil. They had not even heard of +Captain Sedgewick's death. + +Gilbert asked these young ladies if they knew of any other acquaintance +of Marian's living in or near London. They both answered promptly in the +negative. The school was a small one, and they had been the only pupils +who came from town; nor had they ever heard Marian speak of any London +friends. + +Thus ended Mr. Fenton's inquiries in this direction, leaving him no wiser +than when he left Lidford. He had now exhausted every possible channel by +which he might obtain information. The ground lay open before him, and +there was nothing left for him but publicity. He took an advertisement to +the _Times_ office that afternoon, and paid for six insertions in the +second column:-- + + "Miss MARIAN NOWELL, late of Lidford, Midlandshire, is requested + to communicate immediately with G.F., Post-office, Wigmore-street, + to whom her silence has caused extreme anxiety. She may rely upon + the advertiser's friendship and fidelity under all possible + circumstances." + +Gilbert felt a little more hopeful after having done this. He fancied +this advertisement must needs bring him some tidings of his lost love. +The mystery might be happily solved after all, and Marian prove true to +him. He tried to persuade himself that this was possible; but it was very +difficult to reconcile her line of conduct with the fact of her regard +for him. + +In the evening he went to the Temple, eager to see John Saltram, from +whom he had no intention to keep the secret of his trouble. He found his +friend at home, writing, with his desk pushed against the open window, +and the dust and shabbiness of his room dismally obvious in the hot July +sunshine. He started up as Gilbert entered, and the dark face grew +suddenly pale. + +"You took me by surprise," he said. "I didn't know you were in England." + +"I only landed two days ago," answered Gilbert, as they shook hands. "I +daresay I startled you a little, dear old fellow, coming in upon you +without a moment's notice, when you fancied I was at the Antipodes. But, +you see, I hunted you up directly I was free." + +"You have done well out yonder, I hope, Gilbert?" + +"Yes; everything has gone well enough with me in business. But my coming +home has been a dreary one." + +"How is that?" + +"Captain Sedgewick is dead, and Marian Nowell is lost." + +"Lost! What do you mean by that?" + +Mr. Fenton told his friend all that had befallen him since his arrival in +England. + +"I come to you for counsel and help, John," he said, when he had finished +his story. + +"I will give you my help, so far as it is possible for one man to help +another in such a business, and my counsel in all honesty," answered John +Saltram; "but I doubt if you will be inclined to receive it." + +"Why should you doubt that?" + +"Because it is not likely to agree with your own ideas." + +"Speak out, John." + +"I think that if Miss Nowell had really loved you, she would never have +taken this step. I think that she must have left Lidford in order to +escape from her engagement, perhaps expecting your early return. I +believe your pursuit of her can only end in failure and disappointment; +and although I am ready to assist you in any manner you wish, I warn you +against sacrificing your life to a delusion." + +"It is not under the delusion that Marian Nowell loves me that I am going +to search for her," Gilbert Fenton said slowly, after an interval of +silence. "I am not so weak as to believe _that_ after what has happened, +though I have tried to argue with myself, only this afternoon, that she +may still be true to me and that there may have been some hidden reason +for her conduct. Granted that she wished to escape from her engagement, +she might have trusted to my honour to give her a prompt release the +moment I became acquainted with the real state of her feelings. There +must have been some stronger influence than this at work when she left +Lidford. I want to know the true cause of that hurried departure, John. I +want to be sure that Marian Nowell is happy, and in safe hands." + +"By what means do you hope to discover this?" + +"I rely a good deal upon repeated advertisements in the _Times_. They may +bring me tidings of Marian--if not directly, from some person who has +seen her since she left Lidford." + +"If she really wished to hide herself from you, she would most likely +change her name." + +"Why should she wish to hide herself from me? She must know that she +might trust me. Of her own free will she would never do this cruel thing. +There must have been some secret influence at work upon my darling's +mind. It shall be my business to discover what that influence was; or, in +plainer words still, to discover the man who has robbed me of Marian +Nowell's heart." + +"It comes to that, then," said John Saltram. "You suspect some unknown +rival?" + +"Yes; that is the most natural conclusion to arrive at. And yet heaven +knows how unwillingly I take that into consideration." + +"There is no particular person whom you suspect?" + +"No one." + +"If there should be no result from your advertisement, what will you do?" + +"I cannot tell you just yet. Unless I get some kind of clue, the business +will seem a hopeless one. But I cannot imagine that the advertisements +will fail completely. If she left Lidford to be married, there must be +some record of her marriage. Should my first advertisements fail, my next +shall be inserted with a view to discover such a record." + +"And if, after infinite trouble, you should find her the wife of another +man, what reward would you have for your wasted time and lost labour?" + +"The happiness of knowing her to be in a safe and honourable position. I +love her too dearly to remain in ignorance of her fate." + +"Well, Gilbert, I know that good advice is generally thrown away in such +a case as this; but I have a fixed opinion on the subject. To my mind, +there is only one wise course open to you, and that is, to let this thing +alone, and resign yourself to the inevitable. I acknowledge that Miss +Nowell was eminently worthy of your affection; but you know the old +song--'If she be not fair to me, what care I how fair she be.' There are +plenty of women in the world. The choice is wide enough." + +"Not for me, John. Marian Nowell is the only woman I have ever loved, the +only woman I ever can love." + +"My dear boy, it is so natural for you to believe that just now; and a +year hence you will think so differently!" + +"No, John. But I am not going to make any protestations of my constancy. +Let the matter rest. I knew that my life is broken--that this blow has +left me nothing to hope for or to live for, except the hope of finding +the girl who has wronged me. I won't weary you with lamentations. My talk +has been entirely of self since I came into this room. Tell me your own +affairs, Jack, old friend. How has the world gone with you since we +parted at Liverpool last year?" + +"Not too smoothly. My financial position becomes a little more obscure +and difficult of comprehension every year, as you know; but I rub on +somehow. I have been working at literature like a galley-slave; have +contributed no end of stuff to the Quarterlies; and am engaged upon a +book,--yes Gil, positively a book,--which I hope may do great things for +me if ever I can finish it." + +"Is it a novel?" + +"A novel! no!" cried John Saltram, with a wry face; "it is the romance +of reality I deal with. My book is a Life of Jonathan Swift. He was +always a favourite study of mine, you know, that brilliant, unprincipled, +intolerant, cynical, irresistible, miserable man. Scott's biography seems +to me to give but a tame picture, and others are only sketches. Mine will +be a pre-Raphaelite study--faithful as a photograph, careful as a +miniature on ivory, and life-size." + +"I trust it will bring you fame and money when the time comes," answered +Gilbert. "And how about Mrs. Branston? Is she as charming as ever?" + +"A little more so, if possible. Poor old Michael Branston is dead--went +off the hooks rather suddenly about a month ago. The widow looks amazingly +pretty in her weeds." + +"And you will marry her, I suppose, Jack, as soon as her mourning is +over?" + +"Well, yes; it is on the cards," John Saltram said, in an indifferent +tone. + +"Why, how you say that! Is there any doubt as to the lady's fortune?" + +"O no; that is all square enough. Michael Branston's will was in the +_Illustrated London News_; the personalty sworn under a hundred and +twenty thousand,--all left to the widow,--besides real property--a house +in Cavendish Square, the villa at Maidenhead, and a place near +Leamington." + +"It would be a splendid match for you, Jack." + +"Splendid, of course. An unprecedented stroke of luck for such a fellow +as I. Yet I doubt very much if I am quite the man for that sort of life. +I should be apt to fancy it a kind of gilded slavery, I think, Gil, and +there would be some danger of my kicking off the chains." + +"But you like Mrs. Branston, don't you, Jack?" + +"Like her? Yes, I like her too well to deceive her. And she would expect +devoted affection from a second husband. She is full of romantic ideas, +school-girl theories of life which she was obliged to nip in the bud when +she went to the altar with old Branston, but which have burst into flower +now that she is free." + +"Have you seen her often since her husband's death?" + +"Only twice;--once immediately after the funeral, and again yesterday. +She is living in Cavendish Square just now." + +"I hope you will marry her. I should like to see you safe in smooth +water, and with some purpose in life. I should like to see you turn your +back upon the loneliness of these dreary chambers." + +"They are not very brilliant, are they? I don't know how many generations +of briefless barristers these chairs and tables have served. The rooms +have an atmosphere of failure; but they suit me very well. I am not +always here, you know. I spend a good deal of my time in the country." + +"Whereabouts?" + +"Sometimes in one direction, sometimes in another; wherever my truant +fancy leads me. I prefer such spots as are most remote from the haunts of +men, unknown to cockneys; and so long as there is a river within reach of +my lodging, I can make myself tolerably happy with a punt and a +fishing-rod, and contrive to forget my cares." + +"You have not been to Lidford since I left England, I suppose?" + +"Yes; I was at Heatherly a week or two in the winter. Poor old David +Forster would not let me alone until I went down to him. He was ill, and +in a very dismal condition altogether, abandoned by the rest of his +cronies, and a close prisoner in the house which has so many painful +associations for him. It was a work of charity to bear him company." + +"Did you see Captain Sedgewick, or Marian, while you were down there?" + +"No. I should have liked to have called upon the kind old Captain; but +Forster was unconscionably exacting,--there was no getting away from +him." + +Gilbert stopped with his friend until late that night, smoking and +drinking a mild mixture of brandy and soda-water, and talking of the +things that had been doing on this side of the globe while he had been on +the other. No more was said about Marian, or Gilbert's plans for the +future. In his own mind that one subject reigned supreme, shutting out +every other thought; but he did not want to make himself a nuisance to +John Saltram, and he knew that there are bounds to the endurance of which +friendship is capable. + +The two friends seemed cheerful enough as they smoked their cigars in the +summer dusk, the quiet of the flagged court below rarely broken by a +passing footfall. It was the pleasantest evening which Gilbert Fenton had +spent for a long time, in spite of the heavy burden on his mind, in spite +of the depressing view which Mr. Saltram took of his position. + +"Dear old John," he said, as they shook hands at parting, "I cannot tell +you what a happiness it has been to me to see you again. We were never +separated so long before since the day when I ate my first dinner at +Balliol." + +The other seemed touched by this expression of regard, but disinclined to +betray his emotion, after the manner of Englishmen on such occasions. + +"My dear Gilbert, it ought to be very pleasant to me to hear that. But I +doubt if I am worthy of so much. As far as my own liking for you goes, +there is no inequality between us; but you are a better fellow than I am +by a long way, and are not likely to profit much in the long-run by your +friendship for a reprobate like me." + +"That's all nonsense, John. That kind of vague self-accusation means +nothing. I have no doubt I shall live to see you a great man, and to be +proud enough of being able to claim you as the chosen friend of my youth. +Mr. Branston's death has cleared the way for you. The chances of a +distinguished future are within your grasp." + +"The chances within my grasp! Yes. My dear Gilbert, I tell you there are +some men for whom everything in this world comes too late." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"Only that I doubt if you will ever see me Adela Branston's husband." + +"I can't understand you, John." + +"My dear fellow, there is nothing strange in that. There are times when I +cannot understand myself." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +JACOB NOWELL. + + +The days went by, and brought Gilbert Fenton no reply to his +advertisement. He called at the post-office morning and evening, only to +find the same result; and a dull blank feeling, a kind of deadness of +heart and mind, began to steal over him with the progress of the days. +He went through the routine of his business-life steadily enough, working +as hard as he had ever worked; but it was only by a supreme effort that +he could bring his mind to bear upon the details of business--all +interest in his office-work was gone. + +The advertisement had appeared for the sixth time, and Gilbert had framed +a second, offering a reward of twenty pounds for any direct evidence of +the marriage of Marian Nowell; when a letter was handed to him one +evening at the post-office--a letter in a common blue envelope, directed +in a curious crabbed hand, and bearing the London post-mark. + +His heart beat loud and fast as he tore open this envelope. It contained +only a half-sheet of paper, with these words written upon it in the +cramped half-illegible hand which figured on the outside: + +"The person advertising for Marian Nowell is requested to call at No. 5, +Queen Anne's Court, Wardour Street, any evening after seven." + +This was all. Little as this brief note implied, however, Gilbert made +sure that the writer must be in a position to give him some kind of +information about the object of his search. It was six o'clock when he +received the communication. He went from the post-office to his lodgings +with his mind in a tumult of excitement, made a mere pretence of taking a +hasty dinner, and set off immediately afterwards for Wardour Street. + +There was more than time for him to walk, and he hoped that the walk +might have some effect in reducing the fever of his mind. He did not want +to present himself before strangers--who, no doubt, only wanted to make a +barter of any knowledge they possessed as to Marian's whereabouts--in a +state of mental excitement. The address to which he was going mystified +him beyond measure. What could people living in such a place as this know +of her whom he sought? + +He was in Wardour Street at a quarter before seven, but he had +considerable trouble in finding Queen Anne's Court, and the clocks of the +neighbourhood were striking the hour as he turned into a narrow alley +with dingy-looking shops on one side and a high dead wall on the other. +The gas was glimmering faintly in the window of No. 5, and a good deal of +old silver, tarnished and blackened, huddled together behind the +wire-guarded glass, was dimly visible in the uncertain light. There was +some old jewellery too, and a little wooden bowl of sovereigns or gold +coins of some kind or other. + +On a brass plate upon the door of this establishment there appeared the +name of Jacob Nowell, silversmith and money-changer. + +Gilbert Fenton stared in amazement at this inscription. It must needs be +some relative of Marian's he was about to see. + +He opened the door, bewildered a little by this discovery, and a shrill +bell gave notice of his entrance to those within. A tall lanky young man, +with a sallow face and sleek black hair, emerged quickly from some door +in the obscure background, and asked in a sharp voice what the visitor +pleased to want. + +"I wish to see Mr. Nowell, the writer of a letter addressed to the +post-office in Wigmore Street." + +The sallow-faced young man disappeared without a word, leaving Gilbert +standing in the dimly lighted shop, where he saw more old silver crowded +upon shelves behind glass doors, carved ebony cabinets looming out of the +dusk, and here and there an old picture in a tarnished frame. On the +counter there was a glass case containing foreign bank-notes and gold, +some curious old watches, and other trinkets, a baby's coral, a battered +silver cup, and a gold snuff-box. + +While Gilbert waited thus he heard voices in a room at the back--the +shrill tones of the sallow young man and a feeble old voice raised +querulously--and then, after a delay which seemed long to his impatience, +the young man reappeared and told him Mr. Nowell was ready to see him. + +Gilbert went into the room at the end of the shop--a small dark parlour, +more crowded with a heterogeneous collection of plate, pictures, and +bric-a-brac of all kinds than the shop itself. Sultry as the July evening +was, there was a fire burning in the pinched rusty grate, and over this +fire the owner of the room bent affectionately, with his slippered feet +on the fender, and his bony hands clasping his bony knees. + +He was an old man, with long yellowish-white hair streaming from beneath +a velvet skull-cap, and bright black eyes deep set in a pale thin face. +His nose was a sharp aquiline, and gave something of a bird-like aspect +to a countenance that must once have been very handsome. He was wrapped +in a long dressing-gown of some thick grey woollen stuff. + +The sallow-faced young man lingered by the half-glass door between the +parlour and the shop, as if he would fain have remained a witness to the +interview about to take place between his master and the stranger; but +the old man looked round at him sharply, and said,-- + +"That will do, Tulliver; you can go back to the shop. If Abrahams brings +that little lot again to-night, tell him I'll give five-and-nine an +ounce, not a fraction more." + +Mr. Tulliver retired, leaving the door ajar ever so little; but the +penetrating black eyes of the master were quick to perceive this +manoeuvre. + +"Will you be so good as to shut that door, sir, quite securely?" he said +to Gilbert. "That young man is very inquisitive; I'm afraid I've kept him +too long. People talk of old servants; but half the robberies in the +world are committed by old servants. Be seated, if you please, sir. You +find this room rather close, perhaps. Some people do; but I'm old and +chilly, and I can't live without a fire." + +"I have come to you in great anxiety of mind," said Gilbert, as he seated +himself upon the only disengaged chair in the room, "and with some hope +that you may be able to set my mind at ease by affording me information +about Miss Marian Nowell." + +"I can give you no information about her." + +"Indeed!" cried Gilbert, with a bitter pang of disappointment; "and yet +you answered my advertisement." + +"I did, because I have some reason to suppose this Marian Nowell may be +my granddaughter." + +"That is quite possible." + +"Can you tell me her father's name?" + +"Percival Nowell. Her mother was a Miss Lucy Geoffry." + +"Right," said the old man. "Percival Nowell was my only son--my only +child of late years. There was a girl, but she died early. He was my only +son, and his mother and I were foolish enough to be proud of his good +looks and his clever ways; and we brought him up a gentleman, sent him to +an expensive school, and after that to the University, and pinched +ourselves in every way for his sake. My father was a gentleman; and it +was only after I had failed as a professional man, through circumstances +which I need not explain to you now, that I took to this business. I +would have made any sacrifice in reason for that boy of mine. I wanted +him to be a gentleman, and to make his way in one of the learned +professions. After a great deal of chopping and changing, he fixed upon +the Bar, took chambers in the Temple, made me pay all the fees, and +pretended to study. But I soon found that he was leading a wild +dissipated life, and was never likely to be good for anything. He got +into debt, drew bills upon me, and behaved altogether in a most shameful +manner. When I sent for him, and remonstrated with him upon his +disgraceful conduct, he told me that I was a miser, that I spent my life +in a dog-kennel for the sake of hoarding money, and that I deserved +nothing better than his treatment of me. I may have been better off at +this time than I had cared to let him know, for I had soon found out what +a reckless scoundrel I had to deal with; but if he had behaved decently, +he would have found me generous and indulgent enough. As it was, I told +him to go about his business, and never to expect another sixpence from +me as long as he lived. How he managed to exist after this, I hardly +know. He was very much mixed up with a disreputable lot of turf-men, and +I believe he made money by betting. His mother robbed me for him, I found +out afterwards, and contrived to send him a good deal of money at odd +times. My business as a dealer in second-hand silver was better then than +it is now, and I had had so much money passing through my hands that it +was pretty easy for my wife to cheat me. Poor soul! she has been dead and +gone these fifteen years, and I have freely forgiven her. She loved that +young man to distraction. If he had wanted a step to reach the object of +his wishes, she would have laid herself down in the dust and let him walk +over her body. I suppose it is in the nature of mothers to love their +sons like that. Well, sir, I never saw my gentleman after that day. I had +plenty of letters from him, all asking for money; threatening letters, +pitiful letters, letters in which he swore he would destroy himself if he +didn't receive a remittance by return of post; but I never sent him a +shilling. About a year after our last meeting, I received the +announcement of his marriage with Miss Geoffry. He wrote to tell me that, +if I would allow him a decent income, he would reform and lead a steady +life. That letter I did answer: to the effect that, if he chose to come +here and act as my shopman, I would give him board and lodging for +himself and his wife, and such wages as he should deserve. I told him +that I had given him his chance as a gentleman, and he had thrown it +away. I would give him the opportunity now of succeeding in a humbler +career by sheer industry and perseverance as I had succeeded myself. If +he thought that I had made a fortune, there was so much the more reason +for him to try his luck. This was the last letter I ever wrote to him. It +was unanswered; but about a year and a half afterwards there came a few +lines to his mother, telling her of the birth of a daughter, which was to +be called Marian, after her. This last letter came from Brussels." + +"And did you hear no more of your son after this?" Gilbert asked. + +"Nothing. I think his mother used to get letters from him in secret for +some time; that these failed suddenly at last; and that anxiety about her +worthless son--anxiety which she tried to hide from me--shortened her +life. She never complained, poor soul! never mentioned Percy's name until +the last, when she begged me to be kind to him if he should ever come to +throw himself upon my kindness. I gave her my promise that, if that came +to pass, he should find me a better friend to him than he deserved. It is +hard to refuse the last prayer of a faithful wife who has done her duty +patiently for nearly thirty years." + +"Have you any reason to suppose your son still living?" + +"I have no evidence of his death. Often and often, after my poor wife was +gone, I have sat alone here of a night thinking of him; thinking that he +might come in upon me at any moment; almost listening for his footstep in +the quiet of the place. But he never came. He would have found me very +soft-hearted at such times. My mind changed to him a good deal after his +mother's death. I used to think of him as he was in his boyhood, when +Marian and I had such great hopes of him, and would sit and talk of him +for hours together by this fireside. An old man left quite alone as I was +had plenty of time for such thoughts. Night after night I have fancied I +heard his step, and have looked up at that door expecting to see him open +it and come in; but he never came. He may be dead. I suppose he is dead; +or he would have come to make another attempt at getting money out of +me." + +"You have never taken any measures for finding him?" inquired Gilbert. + +"No. If he wanted me, he knew where I was to be found. _I_ was a fixture. +It was his business to come to me. When I saw the name of Marian Nowell +in your advertisement a week ago, I felt curious to know whether it could +be my grandchild you were looking for. I held off till this morning, +thinking it wasn't worth my while to make any inquiries about the matter; +but I couldn't get it out of my head somehow; and it ended by my +answering your advertisement. I am an old man, you see, without a +creature belonging to me; and it might be a comfort to me to meet with +some one of my own flesh and blood. The bit of money I may leave behind +me when I die won't be much; but it might as well go to my son's child as +to a stranger." + +"If your son's child can be found, you will discover her to be well +worthy of your love. Yes, though she has done me a cruel wrong, I believe +her to be all that is good and pure and true." + +"What is the wrong that she has done you?" + +Gilbert told Jacob Nowell the story of his engagement, and the bitter +disappointment which had befallen him on his return from Australia. The +old man listened with every appearance of interest. He approved of +Gilbert's notion of advertising for the particulars of a possible +marriage, and offered to bear his part in the expenses of the search for +his granddaughter. + +Gilbert smiled at this offer. + +"You do not know what a worthless thing money is to me now," he said, "or +now lightly I hold my own trouble or loss in this matter." + +He left Queen Anne's Court soon after this, after having promised Jacob +Nowell to return and report progress so soon as there should be anything +worth telling. He went back to Wigmore Street heavy-hearted, depressed by +the reaction that followed the vain hope which the silversmith's letter +had inspired. It mattered little to him to know the antecedents of +Marian's father, while Marian's destiny remained still hidden from him. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE MARRIAGE AT WYGROVE. + + +On the following day Gilbert Fenton took his second advertisement to the +office in Printing House Square; an advertisement offering a reward of +twenty pounds for any reliable information as to the marriage of Marian +Nowell. A week went by, during which the advertisement appeared on +alternate days; and at the end of that time there came a letter from the +parish-clerk of Wygrove, a small town about forty miles farther from +London than Lidford, stating that, on the 14th of March, John Holbrook +and Marian Nowell had been married at the church in that place. Gilbert +Fenton left London by an early train upon the morning after his receipt +of this letter; and at about three o'clock in the afternoon found himself +on the outskirts of Wygrove, rather a difficult place to reach, involving +a good deal of delay at out-of-the-way junctions, and a six-mile journey +by stage-coach from the nearest station. + +It was about the dullest dreariest little town to which his destiny had +ever brought Gilbert Fenton, consisting of a melancholy high-street, with +a blank market-place, and a town hall that looked as if it had not been +opened within the memory of man; a grand old gothic church, much too +large for the requirements of the place; a grim square brick box +inscribed "Ebenezer;" and a few prim villas straggling off into the +country. + +On one side of the church there was a curious little old-fashioned court, +wonderfully neat and clean, with houses the parlours whereof were sunk +below the level of the pavement, after the manner of these old places. +There was a great show of geraniums in the casements, and a general +aspect of brightness and order distinguished all these modest dwellings. +It was to this court that Mr. Fenton had been directed on inquiring for +Thomas Stoneham, the parish-clerk, at the inn where the coach deposited +him. He was fortunate enough to find Mr. Stoneham sunning himself on the +threshold of his domicile, smoking an after-dinner pipe. A pleasant +clattering of tea-things sounded from the neat little parlour within, +showing that, early as it was, there were already preparations for the +cup which cheers without inebriating in the Stoneham household. + +Thomas Stoneham, supported by a freshly-painted door of a vivid green and +an extensive brass plate engraved with his name and functions, was a +personage of some dignity. He was a middle-aged man, ponderous and slow +of motion, with a latent pomposity, which he rendered as agreeable as +possible by the urbanity of his manners. He was a man of a lofty spirit, +who believed in his office as something exalted above all other dignities +of this earth--less lucrative, of course, than a bishopric or the +woolsack, and of a narrower range, but quite as important on a small +scale. "The world might get on pretty well without bishops," thought Mr. +Stoneham, when he pondered upon these things as he smoked his +churchwarden pipe; "but what would become of a parish in which there was +no clerk?" + +This gentleman, seeing Gilbert Fenton approach, was quick to surmise that +the stranger came in answer to the letter he had written the day before. +The advent of a stranger in Wygrove was so rare an occurrence, that it +was natural enough for him to jump at this conclusion. + +"I believe you are Mr. Stoneham," said Gilbert, "and the writer of a +letter in answer to an advertisement in the _Times_." + +"My name is Stoneham, sir; I am the clerk of this parish, and have been +for twenty years and more, as I think I may have stated in the letter to +which you refer. Will you be so kind as to step inside?" + +Mr. Stoneham waved his hand towards the parlour, to which apartment +Gilbert descended. Here he found Mrs. Stoneham, a meek little +sandy-haired woman, who seemed to be borne down by the weight of her +lord's dignity; and Miss Stoneham, also meek and sandy, with a great many +stiff little corkscrew ringlets budding out all over her head and a sharp +little inquiring nose. + +These ladies would have retired on Gilbert's entrance, but he begged them +to remain; and after a good deal of polite hesitation they consented to +do so, Mrs. Stoneham resuming her seat before the tea-tray, and Miss +Stoneham retiring to a little table by the window, where she was engaged +in trimming a bonnet. + +"I want to know all about this marriage, Mr. Stoneham," Gilbert began, +when he had seated himself in a shining mahogany arm-chair by the empty +fire-place. "First and foremost, I want you to tell me where Mr. and Mrs. +Holbrook are now living." + +The parish-clerk shook his head with a stately slowness. + +"Not to be done, sir," he said: "when Mr. and Mrs. Holbrook left here +they went the Lord knows where. They went away the very day they were +married. There was a fly waiting for them at the church-door, with their +luggage upon it, when the ceremony was over, ready to drive them to +Grangewick station. I saw them get into it and drive away; and that's +every mortal thing that I know as to what became of them after they were +married in yonder church." + +"You don't know who this Mr. Holbrook is?" + +"No more than the babe unborn, sir. He was a stranger in this place, was +only here long enough to get the license for his marriage. I should take +him to be a gentleman; but he wasn't a pleasant person to speak +to--rather stand-off-ish in his manners. He wasn't the sort of man I +should have chosen if I'd been a pretty young woman like Miss Nowell; but +there's no accounting for taste, and she seemed uncommonly fond of him. I +never saw any one more agitated than she was when they were married. She +was crying in a quiet way all through the service, and when it was over +she fainted dead-off. I daresay it did seem hard to her to be married +like that, without so much as a friend to give her away. She was in +mourning, too, deep mourning." + +"Can you give me any description of this man--this Mr. Holbrook?" + +"Well, no, sir: he was an ordinary kind of person to look at; might be +any age between thirty and forty; not a gentleman that I should have +taken a fancy to myself, as I said before; but young women are that +wayward and uncertain like, there's no knowing where to have them." + +"Was Miss Nowell long at Wygrove before her marriage?" + +"About three weeks. She lodged with Miss Long, up the town, a friend of +my daughter's. If you'd like to ask any questions of Miss Long, our +Jemima might step round there with you presently." + +"I should be very glad to do so," Gilbert answered quickly. He asked +several more questions; but Mr. Stoneham could give him no information, +except as to the bare fact of the marriage. Gilbert knew now that the +girl he had so fondly loved and so entirely trusted was utterly lost to +him; that he had been jilted cruelly and heartlessly, as he could but own +to himself. Yes, she had jilted him--had in all probability never loved +him. He blamed himself for having urged his suit too ardently, with +little reference to Marian's own feelings, with a rooted obstinate +conviction that he needed only to win her in order to insure the +happiness of both. + +Having fully proved Mr. Stoneham's inability to afford him any further +help in this business, Gilbert availed himself of the fair Jemima's +willingness to "step round" to Miss Long's domicile with him, in the hope +of obtaining fuller information from that lady. While Miss Stoneham was +engaged in putting on her bonnet for this expedition, the clerk proposed +to take Gilbert across to the church and show him the entry of the +marriage in the register. "With a view to the satisfactory settlement of +the reward," Mr. Stoneham added in a fat voice, and with the air of a man +to whom twenty pounds more or less was an affair of very little moment. + +Gilbert assented to this, and accompanied Mr. Stoneham to a little +side-door which admitted them into the old church, where the light shone +dimly through painted windows, in which there seemed more leaden +framework than glass. The atmosphere of the place was cold even on this +sultry July afternoon, and the vestry to which Mr. Stoneham conducted his +companion had a damp mouldy smell. + +He opened a cupboard, with a good deal of jingling of a great bunch of +keys, and produced the register; a grim-looking volume bound in dingy +leather, and calculated to inspire gloomy feelings in the minds of the +bridegrooms and brides who had occasion to inscribe their names therein; +a volume upon which the loves and the graces who hover around the +entrance to the matrimonial state had shed no ray of glamour. + +Thomas Stoneham laid this book before Gilbert, open at the page on which +Marian's marriage was recorded. Yes, there was the familiar signature in +the fair flowing hand he had loved so well. It was his Marian, and no +other, whom John Holbrook had married in that gloomy old church. + +The signature of the bridegroom was in a stiff straight hand, all the +letters formed with unusual precision, as if the name had been written in +a slow laboured way. + +Who could this John Holbrook be? Gilbert was quite certain that he had +never heard the name at Lidford, nor could he believe that if any +attachment between this man and Marian Nowell had existed before his own +acquaintance with her, Captain Sedgewick would have been so dishonourable +as to keep the fact a secret from him. This John Holbrook must needs, +therefore, be some one who had come to Lidford during Gilbert's absence +from England; yet Sarah Down had been able to tell him of no new visitor +at Hazel Cottage. + +He copied the record of the marriage on a leaf in his pocket-book, paid +Mr. Stoneham a couple of ten-pound notes, and left the church. The +clerk's daughter was waiting for him in the little court outside, and +they went at once to the house where Miss Nowell had lodged during her +residence at Wygrove. + +It was a house in a neat little terrace on the outskirts of the town; a +house approached by a flight of steep stone steps of spotless purity, and +a half-glass door, which opened at once into a bright airy-looking +parlour, faintly perfumed with rose-leaves and lavender mouldering in the +china vases on the mantelpiece. Here Gilbert was introduced to Miss Long, +a maiden lady of uncertain age, who wore stiff bands of suspiciously +black hair under an imposing structure of lace and artificial flowers, +and a rusty black-silk dress, the body of which fitted so tightly as to +seem like a kind of armour. This lady received Mr. Fenton very +graciously, and declared herself quite ready to give him any information +in her power about Miss Nowell. + +It happened unfortunately, however, that her power was of a most limited +extent. + +"A sweeter young lady never lived than Miss Nowell," she said. "I've had +a great many people occupying these apartments since my father's death +left me thrown upon my own resources. I've had lodgers that I might call +permanent, in a manner of speaking; but I never had any one that I took +to as I took to Miss Nowell, though she was hardly with me three weeks +from first to last." + +"Did she seem happy in her mind during that time?" Gilbert asked. + +"Well, no; I cannot say that she did. I should have expected to see a +young lady that was going to be married to the man she loved much more +cheerful and hopeful about the future than Miss Nowell was. She told me +that her uncle had not been dead many weeks, and I thought at first that +this was the only grief she had on her mind; but after some time, when I +found her very low and downhearted, and had won upon her to trust me +almost as if I had been an old friend, she owned to me that she had +behaved very badly to a gentleman she had been engaged to, and that the +thought of her wickedness to him preyed upon her mind. 'I don't think any +good can ever come of my marriage, Miss Long,' she said to me; 'I think I +must surely be punished for my falsehood to the good man who loved me so +truly. But there are some things in life that seem like fate. They come +upon us in a moment, and we have no strength to fight against them. I +believe it was my fate to love John Holbrook. There is nothing in this +world I could refuse to do for his sake. If he had asked me for my life, +I must have given it to him as freely as I gave him my love. From the +first hour in which I saw him he was my master.'" + +"This Mr. Holbrook was very fond of her, I suppose?" + +"I daresay he was, sir; but he was not a man that showed his feelings +very much. They used to go for long walks together, though it was March +and cold windy weather, and she always seemed happier when he brought her +home. He came every evening to drink tea with her, and I used to hear +them talking as I sat at work in the next room. She was happy enough when +he was with her. It was only when she was alone that she would give way +to low spirits and gloomy thoughts about the future." + +"Did she ever tell you anything about Mr. Holbrook--his position or +profession? how long she had known him? how and where they had first +met?" + +"No, sir. She told me once that he was not rich; I think that is about +all she ever said of him, except when she spoke of his influence over +her, and her trust in him." + +"Have you any idea where they were going to live after their marriage?" + +"I cannot tell you the name of the place. Miss Nowell said that a friend +of Mr. Holbrook's was going to lend him an old farm-house in a very +pretty part of the country. It would be very lonely, she said, and her +husband would have sometimes to leave her to attend to his business in +London; but she would not mind that. 'Some day, I daresay, he will let me +live in London with him,' she said; 'but I don't like to ask him that +yet.'" + +"Did she drop no hint as to the whereabouts of this place to which they +were going?" + +"It was somewhere in Hampshire; that is all I can remember." + +"I would give a great deal to know more," Gilbert said with a sigh. "In +what manner did this Mr. Holbrook impress you? You were interested in the +young lady, and would therefore naturally be interested in her lover. Did +he strike you as worthy of her?" + +"_I_ cannot say that he did, sir," Miss Long answered doubtfully. "I +could see that he had great power over her, though his manner to her was +always very gentle; but I cannot say that I took to him myself. I daresay +he is a very clever man; but he had a cold proud way that kept one at a +distance from him, and I seemed to know no more of him at the last than I +had known on the first day I saw him. I believe he loved Miss Nowell, and +that's about all the good I do believe of him." + +After this, there was no more to be asked of Miss Long; so Gilbert +thanked her for her civility, and bade good evening at once to her and to +Miss Stoneham. There was time for him to catch the last coach to +Grangewick station. He determined upon going from Grangewick to Lidford, +instead of returning to London. He wanted, if possible, to find out +something more about this man Holbrook, who must surely have been known +to some one at Lidford during his secret courtship of Marian Nowell. + +He wasted two days at Lidford, making inquiries on this subject, in as +quiet a manner as possible and in every imaginable quarter; but without +the slightest result. No one either at Lidford or Fairleigh had ever +heard of Mr. Holbrook. + +Gilbert's last inquiries were made in a singular direction. After +exhausting every likely channel of information, he had a few hours left +before the departure of the fast train by which he had determined to +return to London; and this leisure he devoted to a visit to Heatherly +Park, in the chance of finding Sir David Forster at home. It was just +possible that Mr. Holbrook might be one of Sir David's innumerable +bachelor acquaintances. + +Gilbert walked from Lidford to Heatherly by that romantic woodland path +by which he had gone with Marian and her uncle on the bright September +afternoon when he first saw Sir David's house. The solitary walk awakened +very bitter thoughts; the memory of those hopes which had then made the +sunshine of his life, and without which existence seemed a weary +purposeless journey across a desert land. + +Sir David was at home, the woman at the lodge told him; and he went on to +the house, and rang a great clanging bell, which made an alarming clamour +in the utter stillness of the place. + +A gray-haired old servant answered the summons, and ushered Gilbert into +the state drawing-room, an apartment with a lofty arched roof, eight long +windows, and a generally ecclesiastical aspect, which was more suggestive +of solemn grandeur than of domestic comfort. + +Here Gilbert waited for about ten minutes, at the end of which time the +man returned, to request that he would be so kind as to go to Sir David's +study. His master was something of an invalid, the man told Gilbert. + +They went through the billiard-room to a very snug little apartment, with +dark-panelled walls and one large window opening upon a rose-garden on +the southern side of the house. There was a ponderous carved-oak bookcase +on one side of the room; on all the others the paraphernalia of +sporting--gunnery and fishing-tackle, small-swords, whips, and +boxing-gloves--artistically arranged against the panelling; and over the +mantelpiece an elaborate collection of meerschaum pipes. Through a +half-open door Gilbert caught a glimpse of a comfortable bedchamber +leading out of this room. + +Sir David was sitting on a low easy-chair near the window, with one leg +supported on a luxuriously-cushioned rest, invented for the relief of +gouty subjects. Although not yet forty, the baronet was a chronic +sufferer from this complaint. + +"My dear Mr. Fenton, how good of you to come to me!" he exclaimed, +shaking hands very cordially with Gilbert. "Here I am, laid by the heels +in this dreary old place, and quite alone. You can't imagine what a treat +it is to see a friendly intelligent face from the outer world." + +"The purpose of my visit is such a purely selfish one, that I am really +ashamed to receive such a kindly greeting, Sir David. If I had known you +were here and an invalid, I should have gladly come to see you; but I +didn't know it. I have been at Lidford on a matter of business for the +last two days; and I came here on the hazard of finding you, and with a +faint hope that you might be able to give me some help in an affair +which is supremely important to me." + +Sir David Forster looked at Gilbert Fenton curiously for a moment, and +then took up an empty meerschaum that lay upon a little table near him, +and began to fill it with a thoughtful air. Gilbert had dropped into an +arm-chair on the opposite side of the open window, and was watching the +baronet's face, puzzled a little by that curious transient expression +which had just flitted across it. + +"What is the business?" Sir David asked presently; "and how can I be of +use to you?" + +"I think you knew all about my engagement to Miss Nowell, when I was here +last September, Sir David," Gilbert began presently. + +"Yes, Saltram told me you were engaged; not but what it was easy enough +to see how the land lay, without any telling." + +"Miss Nowell has jilted me. I love her too dearly to be able to entertain +any vindictive feeling against her; but I do feel vindictively disposed +towards the man who has robbed me of her, for I know that only a very +powerful influence would have induced her to break faith with me; and +this man must needs have known the dishonourable thing he was doing when +he tempted her away from me. I want to know who he is, Sir David, and how +he came to acquire such an influence over my plighted wife." + +"My dear Fenton, you are going on so fast! You say Miss Nowell has jilted +you. She is married to some one else, then, I suppose?" + +"She is married to a Mr. Holbrook. I came to Lidford the night before +last, with the hope of finding out something about him; but all my +endeavours have resulted in failure. It struck me at last, as a kind of +forlorn hope, that this Mr. Holbrook might possibly be one of your +autumnal visitors; and I came here to ask you that question." + +"No," answered the baronet; "I have had no visitor called Holbrook. Is +the name quite strange to yourself?" + +"Entirely strange." + +"And this Mr. Holbrook is now Miss Nowell's husband? and you want to know +who he is? With what end?" + +"I want to find the man who has done me the deadliest wrong one man can +do another." + +"My dear fellow, don't you see that it is fate, and not Mr. Holbrook, +that has done you this wrong? If Miss Nowell had really loved you as she +ought to have loved you, it would have been quite impossible for her to +be tempted away from you. It was her destiny to marry this Holbrook, rely +upon it; and had you been on the spot to protect your own interests, the +result would have been just the same. Believe me, I am very sorry for +you, and can fully sympathise with your feelings in this business; but I +cannot see what good could possibly arise out of a meeting between you +and your fortunate rival. The days of duelling are past; and even if it +were not so, I think you are too generous to seek to deprive Miss Nowell +of her husband." + +"I do not know about that. There are some wrongs which all a man's +Christianity is not wide enough to cover. I think if that man and +I were to meet, there would be very little question of mercy on my +side. I hold a man who could act as he has acted unworthy of all +consideration--utterly unworthy of the woman he has won from me." + +"My dear fellow, you know the old saying. A man who is in love thinks +everything fair. There is no such thing as honour in such a case as this. +Of course, I don't want to defend this Holbrook; I only want to awaken +your senses to the absurdity of any vindictive pursuit of the man. If the +lady did not love you, believe me you are well out of the business." + +"Yes, that is what every one would tell me, I daresay," Gilbert answered +impatiently. "But is there to be no atonement for my broken life, +rendered barren to me by this man's act? I tell you, Sir David, there is +no such thing as pardon for a wrong like this. But I know how foolish +this talk must seem to you: there is always something ridiculous in the +sufferings of a jilted lover." + +"Not at all, my dear Fenton. I heartily wish that I could be of use to +you in this matter; but there is very little chance of that; and, believe +me, there is only one rational course open to you, which is, to forget +Miss Nowell, or Mrs. Holbrook, with all possible assiduity." + +Gilbert smiled, a melancholy incredulous smile. Sir David's advice was +only the echo of John Saltram's counsel--the counsel which he would +receive from every man of the world, no doubt--the counsel which he +himself would most likely have given to a friend under the same +circumstances. + +Sir David was very cordial, and wanted his visitor to dine and sleep at +Heatherly; but this Gilbert declined. He was eager to get back to London +now that his business was finished. + +He arrived in town late that night; and went back to his office-work next +day with a dreary feeling that he must needs go through the same dull +routine day after day in all the time to come, without purpose or hope in +his life, only because a man must go on living somehow to the end of his +earthly pilgrimage, whether the sun shine upon him or not. + +He went to Queen Anne's Court one evening soon after his return, and told +Mr. Nowell all he had discovered at Wygrove. The old man showed himself +keenly interested in his grand-daughter's fate. + +"I would give a great deal to see her before I die," he said. "Whatever I +have to leave will be hers. It may be little or much--I won't speak about +that; but I've lived a hard life, and saved where other men would have +spent. I should like to see my son's child; I should like to have some +one of my own flesh and blood about me in my last days." + +"Would it not be a good plan to put an advertisement into the _Times_, +addressed to Mrs. Holbrook, from a relation? She would be likely to +answer that, when she would not reply to any appeal coming directly from +me." + +"Yes," answered Jacob Nowell; "and her husband would let her come to me +for the sake of what I may have to leave her. But that can't be helped, I +suppose; it is the fate of a man who lives as I have lived, to be cared +for at last only for what he has to give. I'll put in such an +advertisement as you speak of; and we'll see what comes of it." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +A FRIENDLY COUNSELLOR. + + +Gilbert Fenton called several times in the Temple without being able to +see John Saltram; a slip of paper pasted on the outer door of that +gentleman's chamber informed the public that he was "out of town," and +that was all. Gilbert took the trouble to penetrate the domicile of the +laundress who officiated in Mr. Saltram's chambers, in order to obtain +some more particular information as to her employer's movements, and +after infinite difficulty succeeded in finding that industrious matron in +the remote obscurity of a narrow court near the river. But the laundress +could tell Mr. Fenton very little. She did not know whither Mr. Saltram +had gone, or when he was likely to return. He was one of the most +uncertingest gentlemen she had to do for; and he had been out of town a +great deal lately; which was not to be wondered at, considering the +trying hot weather, when it was not to be supposed that gentlefolks as +was free to do what they pleased would stay in London. It was hard enough +upon working people with five children to wash and mend and cook for, and +over in the court besides, and provisions dearer than they had been these +ten years. Gilbert asked if Mr. Saltram had left any orders about his +letters; but the woman told him, no; there never was such a careless +gentleman about letters. He never cared about having them sent after him, +and would let them lie in the box till the dust got thick upon them. + +Gilbert left a brief note for John Saltram with the woman--a note +begging his friend to come to him when he was next in London; and having +done this, he paid no more visits to the Temple, but waited patiently for +Mr. Saltram's coming, feeling very sure that his request would not be +neglected. If anything could have intensified the gloom of his mind at +this time it would have been the absence of that one friend, whom he +loved better than he had ever loved any one in this world, except Marian +Nowell. He stayed in town all through the blank August and September +season, working harder than he had worked since the early days of his +commercial life, taking neither pleasure nor interest in anything, and +keeping as much as possible out of the way of all his old acquaintance. + +No answer came to Jacob Nowell's advertisement, although it appeared +several times; and the old man began to despair of ever seeing his +granddaughter. Gilbert used to drop in upon him sometimes of an evening +during this period, at his urgent request. He was interested in the +solitary silversmith for Marian's sake, and very willingly sacrificed an +occasional evening for his gratification. He fancied that these visits of +his inspired some kind of jealousy in the breast of the sallow-faced, +sleek-haired shopman; who regarded him always on these occasions with a +look of suppressed malevolence, and by every stratagem in his power tried +to find out the nature of the conversation between the visitor and his +employer, making all kinds of excuses to come into the parlour, and +showing himself proof against the most humiliating treatment from his +master. + +"Does that young man expect you to leave him money? and does he look upon +me as a possible rival?" Gilbert asked one night, provoked by the +shopman's conduct. + +"Very likely," Mr. Nowell answered, with a malicious grin. + +"One gets good service from a man who expects his reward in the future. +Luke Tulliver serves me very well indeed, and of course I am not +responsible for his delusions." + +"Do you know, Mr. Nowell, that is a man I should scarcely care to trust. +To my mind there is a warning of danger in his countenance." + +"My dear sir, I have never trusted any one in my life," answered the +silversmith promptly. "I don't for a moment suppose that Luke Tulliver +would be honest if I gave him an opportunity to cheat me. As to the +badness of his countenance, that is so much the better. I like to deal +with an obvious rogue. The really dangerous subject is your honest fool, +who goes on straight enough till he has lulled one into a false security, +and then turns thief all at once at the instigation of some clever +tempter." + +"That young man lives in the house with you, I suppose?" + +"Yes; my household consists of Luke Tulliver, and an old woman who does +the cooking and other work. There are a couple of garrets at the top of +the house where the two sleep; my own bedroom is over this; and the room +over the shop is full of pictures and other unsaleable stuff, which I +have seldom occasion to show anybody. My business is not what it once +was, Mr. Fenton. I have made some rather lucky hits in the way of +picture-dealing in the course of my business career, but I haven't done a +big line lately." + +Gilbert was inclined to believe that Jacob Nowell was a much richer man +than he cared to confess, and that the fortune which Marian Nowell might +inherit in the future was a considerable one. The old man had all the +attributes of a miser. The house in which he lived had the aspect of a +place in which money has been made and hoarded day by day through long +dull years. + + * * * * * + +It was not until the end of October that John Saltram made his appearance +at his old friend's lodgings. He had just come up from the country, and +was looking his best--brighter and younger than Gilbert had seen him look +for a long time. + +"My dear Jack, I began to think I should never see you again. What have +you been doing all this time, and where have you been?" + +"I have been hard at work, as usual, for the reviews, down Oxford way, at +a little place on the river. And how has the world been going with you, +Gilbert? I saw your advertisement offering a reward for evidence of Miss +Nowell's marriage. Was there any result?" + +"Yes; I know all about the marriage now, but I don't know who or what the +man is," Gilbert answered; and then went on to give his friend a detailed +account of his experience at Wygrove, and his visit to Sir David Forster. + +"My dear foolish Gilbert," said John Saltram, "how much useless trouble +you have given yourself! Was it not enough to know that this girl had +broken faith with you? I think, were I in your place, that would be the +end of the story for me. And now you know more than that--you know that +she is another man's wife. If you find her, nothing can come of it." + +"It is the man I want to find, John; the man whom I shall make it the +business of my life to discover." + +"For what good?" + +"For the deadliest harm to him," Gilbert answered moodily. "If ever he +and I meet, I will have some payment for my broken life; some +compensation for my ruined hopes. We two should not meet and part +lightly, rely upon it." + +"You can make no excuse for his love, that fatal irresistible passion, +which outweighs truth and honour when they are set in the opposite scale. +I did not think you could be so hard, Gilbert; I thought you would have +more mercy on the man who wronged you." + +"I could pardon any injury but this. I will never forgive this." + +John Saltram shrugged his shoulders with a deprecating air. + +"It is a mistake, my dear fellow," he said. "Life is not long enough for +these strong passions. There is nothing in the world worth the price +these bitter hatreds and stormy angers cost us. You have thrown away a +great deal of deep feeling on a lady, whose misfortune it was not to be +able to return your affection as she might have done--as you most fully +deserved at her hands. Why waste any further emotion in regrets that are +as useless as they are foolish?" + +"You may as well ask me why I exist," Gilbert answered quietly. "Regret +for all I have lost is a part of my life." + +After this there was no more to be said, and Mr. Saltram went on to speak +of pleasanter topics. The two men dined together, and sat by the fire +afterwards with a bottle of claret between them, smoking their cigars, +and talking till late into the night. + +It was not to be supposed that Adela Branston's name could be omitted +entirely from this confidential talk. + +"I have seen nothing and heard very little of her while I have been +away," John Saltram said, in answer to a question of Gilbert's; "but I +called in Cavendish-square this afternoon, and was fortunate enough to +find her at home. She wants me to dine with her next Sunday, and I half +promised to do so. Will you come too? I know that she would be glad to +see you." + +"I cannot see that I am wanted, John." + +"But I tell you that you are wanted. I wish you to go with me. Mrs. +Branston likes you amazingly, if you care to know the opinion of so +frivolous a person." + +"I am very much flattered by Mrs. Branston's kindly estimate of me, but I +do not think I have any claim to it, except the fact that I am your +friend. I shall be happy to go with you on Sunday, if you really wish +it." + +"I do really wish it. I shall drop Mrs. Branston a line to say you will +come. She asked me to bring you whenever I had an opportunity. The +dinner-hour is seven. I'll call for you here a few minutes before. I +don't promise you a very lively evening, remember. There will only be +Adela, and a lady she has taken as her companion." + +"I don't care about lively evenings. I have been nowhere in society +since I returned from Melbourne. I have done with all that kind of +thing." + +"My dear Gilbert, that sort of renunciation will never do," John Saltram +said earnestly. "A man cannot turn his back upon society at your age. +Life lies all before you, and it rests with yourself to create a happy +future. Let the dead bury their dead." + +"Yes, John; and what is left for the living when that burial is over? I +don't want to make myself obnoxious by whining over my troubles, but they +are not to be lessened by philosophy, and I can do nothing but bear them +as best I may. I had long been growing tired of society, in the +conventional acceptation of the word, and all the stereotyped pleasures +of a commercial man's life. Those things are less than nothing when a man +has nothing brighter and fairer beyond them--no inner life by which the +common things of this world are made precious. It is only dropping out of +the arena a little earlier than I might have done otherwise. I have a +notion that I shall wind up my affairs next year, sell my business, and +go abroad. I could manage to retire upon a very decent income, in spite +of my losses the other day." + +"Don't dream of that, Gilbert; for heaven's sake, don't dream of anything +so mad as that. What would a man of your age be without some kind of +career? A mere purposeless wanderer on the face of the earth. Stick to +business, dear old fellow. Believe me, there is nothing like work to make +a man forget any foolish trouble of this kind. And you will forget it, +Gilbert, be assured of that. If I were not certain it would be so, I +should----" + +He stopped suddenly, staring absently at the fire with a darkening brow. + +"You would do what, John?" + +"Hate this man Holbrook almost as savagely as you hate him, for having +come between you and your happiness. Yet, if Marian Nowell did not love +you--as a wife should love her husband, with all her heart and soul--it +was ten thousand times better that the knot should be cut in time, +however roughly. Think what your misery would have been if you had +discovered after your marriage that her heart had never been really +yours." + +"I cannot imagine that possible. I have no shadow of doubt that I should +have succeeded in winning her heart if this man had not robbed me of her. +My absence gave him his opportunity. Had I been at hand to protect my own +interests, I do not think his influence could have prevailed against me." + +"It is quite natural that you should think that," John Saltram said +gravely. "Yet you may be mistaken. A woman's love is such a capricious +thing, and so often bestowed upon the least deserving amongst those who +seek it." + +After this they were silent for some time, and then Gilbert told his +friend about his acquaintance with Jacob Nowell, and the old man's futile +endeavours to find his grandchild; to all of which Mr. Saltram listened +attentively. + +"Then you fancy there is a good bit of money in question?" he said, when +Gilbert told him everything. + +"I fancy so. But I have no actual ground for the belief. The place in +which the old man lives is poor enough, and he has carefully abstained +from any hint as to what he might leave his granddaughter. Whatever it +is, Marian ought to have it; and there is very little chance of that, +unless she comes forward in response to Mr. Nowell's advertisements." + +"It is a pity she should lose the chance of this inheritance, certainly," +said Mr. Saltram. + +And then the conversation changed, and they talked of other subjects +until it was time for them to part. + +John Saltram walked back to the Temple in a very sombre mood, meditating +upon his friend's trouble. + +"Poor old Gilbert," he said to himself, "this business has touched him +more deeply than I could have thought possible. I wish things had +happened otherwise. What is it Lady Macbeth says? 'Naught's had, all's +spent, when our desire is got without content.' I wonder whether the +fulfilment of one's heart's desire ever does bring perfect contentment? I +think not. There is always something wanting. And if a man comes by his +wish basely, there is a taint of poison in the wine of life that +neutralizes all its sweetness." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +MRS. PALLINSON HAS VIEWS. + + +At seven o'clock on Sunday evening, as the neighbouring church bells were +just sounding their last peal, Mr. Fenton found himself on the threshold +of Mrs. Branston's house in Cavendish-square. It was rather a gloomy +mansion, pervaded throughout with evidences of its late owner's oriental +career; old Indian cabinets; ponderous chairs of elaborately-carved +ebony, clumsy in form and barbaric in design; curious old china and +lacquered ware of every kind, from gigantic vases to the tiniest cups and +saucers; ivory temples, and gods in silver and clay, crowded the +drawing-rooms and the broad landings on the staircase. The curtains and +chair-covers were of Indian embroidery; the carpets of oriental +manufacture. Everything had a gaudy semi-barbarous aspect. + +Mrs. Branston received her guests in the back drawing-room, a smaller and +somewhat snugger apartment than the spacious chamber in front, which was +dimly visible in the light of a single moderator lamp and the red glow of +a fire through the wide-open archway between the two rooms. In the inner +room the lamps were brighter, and the fire burned cheerily; and here Mrs. +Branston had established for herself a comfortable nook in a deep +velvet-cushioned arm-chair, very low and capacious, sheltered luxuriously +from possible draughts by a high seven-leaved Japanese screen. The fair +Adela was a chilly personage, and liked to bask in her easy-chair before +the fire. She looked very pretty this evening, in her dense black dress, +with the airiest pretence of a widow's cap perched on her rich auburn +hair, and a voluminous Indian shawl of vivid scarlet making a drapery +about her shoulders. She was evidently very pleased to see John Saltram, +and gave a cordial welcome to his friend. On the opposite side of the +fire-place there was a tall, rather grim-looking lady, also in mourning, +and with an elaborate headdress of bugles and ornaments of a feathery and +beady nature, which were supposed to be flowers. About her neck this lady +wore numerous rows of jet beads, from which depended crosses and lockets +of the same material: she had jet earrings and jet bracelets; and had +altogether a beaded and bugled appearance, which would have been +eminently fascinating to the untutored taste of a North American Indian. + +This lady was Mrs. Pallinson, a widow of limited means, and a distant +relation of Adela Branston's. Left quite alone after her husband's +death, and feeling herself thoroughly helpless, Adela had summoned this +experienced matron to her aid; whereupon Mrs. Pallinson had given up a +small establishment in the far north of London, which she was in the +habit of speaking about on occasions as her humble dwelling, and had +taken up her quarters in Cavendish-square, where she was a power of dread +to the servants. + +Gilbert fancied that Mrs. Pallinson was by no means too favourably +disposed towards John Saltram. She had sharp black eyes, very much like +the jet beads with which her person was decorated, and with these she +kept a close watch upon Mrs. Branston and Mr. Saltram when the two were +talking together. Gilbert saw how great an effort it cost her at these +times to keep up the commonplace conversation which he had commenced with +her, and how intently she was trying to listen to the talk upon the other +side of the fire-place. + +The dinner was an admirable one, the wines perfection, Mr. Branston +having been a past-master of the art of good living, and having stocked +his cellars with a view to a much longer life than had been granted to +him; the attendance was careful and complete; the dining-room, with its +rather old-fashioned furniture and heavy crimson hangings, a picture of +comfort; and Mrs. Branston a most charming hostess. Even Gilbert was fain +to forget his own troubles and enjoy life a little in that agreeable +society. + +The two gentlemen accompanied the ladies back to the drawing-room. There +was a grand piano in the front room, and to this Adela Branston went at +Mr. Saltram's request, and began to play some of Handel's oratorio music, +while he stood beside the piano, talking to her as she played. Mrs. +Pallinson and Gilbert were thus left alone in the back room, and the lady +did her best to improve the occasion by extorting what information she +could from Mr. Fenton about his friend. + +"Adela tells me that you and Mr. Saltram are friends of very long +standing, Mr. Fenton," she began, fanning herself slowly with a shining +black fan as she sat opposite Gilbert, awful of aspect in the sombre +splendour of her beads and bugles. + +"Yes; we were at Oxford together, and have been fast friends ever since." + +"Indeed!--how really delightful! The young men of the present day appear +to me generally so incapable of a sincere friendship. And you and Mr. +Saltram have been friends all that time? He is a literary man, I +understand. I have not had the pleasure of reading any of his works; but +Adela tells me he is extremely clever." + +"He is very clever." + +"And steady, I hope. Literary men are so apt to be wild and dissipated; +and Adela has such a high opinion of your friend. I hope he is steady." + +"I scarcely know what a lady's notion of steadiness may involve," Gilbert +answered, smiling; "but I daresay when my friend marries he will be +steady enough. I cannot see that literary tastes and dissipated habits +have any natural affinity. I should rather imagine that a man with +resources of that kind would be likely to lead a quieter life than a man +without such resources." + +"Do you really think so? I fancied that artists and poets and people of +that kind were altogether a dangerous class. And you think that Mr. +Saltram will be steady when he is married? He is engaged to be married, I +conclude by your manner of saying that." + +"I had no idea my words implied anything of the kind. No, _I_ do not +think John Saltram is engaged." + +Mrs. Pallinson glanced towards the piano, where the two figures seemed +very close to each other in the dim light of the room. Adela's playing +had been going on in a desultory kind of manner, broken every now and +then by her conversation with John Saltram, and had evidently been +intended to give pleasure only to that one listener. + +While she was still playing in this careless fitful way, a servant +announced Mr. Pallinson; and a gentleman entered whom Gilbert had no +difficulty in recognizing as the son of the lady he had been conversing +with. This new-comer was a tall pale-faced young man, with intensely +penetrating black eyes exactly like his mother's, sharp well-cut +features, and an extreme precision of dress and manner. His hands, which +were small and thin, were remarkable for their whiteness, and were +set-off by spotless wristbands, which it was his habit to smooth fondly +with his slim fingers in the intervals of his discourse. Mrs. Pallinson +rose and embraced this gentleman with stately affection. + +"My son Theobald--Mr. Fenton," she said. "My son is a medical +practitioner, residing at Maida-hill; and it is a pleasure to him to +spend an occasional evening with his cousin Adela and myself." + +"Whenever the exigencies of professional life leave me free to enjoy that +happiness," Mr. Pallinson added in a brisk semi-professional manner. +"Adela has been giving you some music, I see. I heard one of Handel's +choruses as I came upstairs." + +He went into the front drawing-room, shook hands with Mrs. Branston, and +established himself with a permanent air beside the piano. Adela did not +seem particularly glad to see him; and John Saltram, who had met him +before in Cavendish-square, received him with supreme indifference. + +"I am blessed, as I daresay you perceive, Mr. Fenton, in my only son," +Mrs. Pallinson said, when the young man had withdrawn to the adjoining +apartment. "It was my misfortune to lose an admirable husband very early +in life; and I have been ever since that loss wholly devoted to my son +Theobald. My care has been amply rewarded by his goodness. He is a most +estimable and talented young man, and has already attained an excellent +position in the medical profession." + +"You have reason to be proud of him," Gilbert answered kindly. + +"I _am_ proud of him, Mr. Fenton. He is the sole delight and chief object +of my life. His career up to this hour has been all that the fondest +mother could desire. If I can only see him happily and advantageously +married, I shall have nothing left to wish for." + +"Indeed!" thought Gilbert. "Then I begin to perceive the reason of Mrs. +Pallinson's anxiety about John Saltram. She wants to secure Mrs. +Branston's handsome fortune for this son of hers. Not much chance of +that, I think, fascinating as the doctor may be. Plain John Saltram +stands to win that prize." + +They went into the front drawing-room presently, and heard Mr. Pallinson +play the "Hallelujah Chorus," arranged as a duet, with his cousin. He was a +young man who possessed several accomplishments in a small way--could sing +a little, and play the piano and guitar a little, sketch a little, and was +guilty of occasional effusions in the poetical line which were the palest, +most invertebrate reflections of Owen Meredith. In the Maida-hill and St. +John's-wood districts he was accounted an acquisition for an evening party; +and his dulcet accents and engaging manners had rendered him a favourite +with the young mothers of the neighbourhood, who believed implicitly in Mr. +Pallinson's gray powders when their little ones' digestive organs had been +impaired by injudicious diet, and confided in Mr. Pallinson's +carefully-expressed opinion as the fiat of an inscrutable power. + +Mr. Theobald Pallinson himself cherished a very agreeable opinion of his +own merits. Life seemed to him made on purpose that Theobald Pallinson +should flourish and succeed therein. He could hardly have formed any idea +of the world except as an arena for himself. He was not especially given +to metaphysics; but it would not have been very difficult for him to +believe that the entire universe was an emanation from the brain of +Theobald Pallinson--a phenomenal world existing only in his sense of +sight and touch. Happy in this opinion of himself, it is not to be +supposed that the surgeon had any serious doubt of ultimate success with +his cousin. He regarded John Saltram as an interloper, who had gained +ground in Mrs. Branston's favour only by the accident of his own absence +from the stage. The Pallinsons had not been on visiting terms with Adela +during the life of the East Indian merchant, who had not shown himself +favourably disposed to his wife's relations; and by this means Mr. +Saltram had enjoyed advantages which Theobald Pallinson told himself +could not have been his, had he, Theobald, been at hand to engage his +cousin's attention by those superior qualities of mind and person which +must needs have utterly outshone the other. All that Mr. Pallinson wanted +was opportunity; and that being now afforded him, he looked upon the +happy issue of events as a certainty, and already contemplated the house +in Cavendish-square, the Indian jars and cabinets, the ivory chessmen and +filigree-silver rosewater-bottles, the inlaid desks and Japanese screens, +the ponderous plate and rare old wines, with a sense of prospective +proprietorship. + +It seemed as if John Saltram had favoured this gentleman's views by his +prolonged absence from the scene, holding himself completely aloof from +Adela Branston at a time when, had he been inclined to press his suit, he +might have followed her up closely. Mrs. Branston had been not a little +wounded by this apparent neglect on the part of one whom she loved better +than anything else in the world; but she was inclined to believe any +thing rather than that John Saltram did not care for her; and she had +contrived to console herself with the idea that his avoidance of her had +been prompted by a delicate consideration for her reputation, and a +respect for the early period of her mourning. To-night, in his society, +she had an air of happiness which became her wonderfully; and Gilbert +Fenton fancied that a man must needs be hard and cold whose heart could +not be won by so bright and gracious a creature. + +She spoke more than once, in a half-playful way, of Mr. Saltram's absence +from London; but the deeper feeling underneath the lightness of her +manner was very evident to Gilbert. + +"I suppose you will be running away from town again directly," she said, +"without giving any one the faintest notice of your intention. I can't +think what charm it is that you find in country life. I have so often +heard you profess your indifference to shooting, and the ordinary routine +of rustic existence. Perhaps the secret is, that you fear your reputation +as a man of fashion would suffer were you to be seen in London at such a +barbarous season as this." + +"I have never rejoiced in a reputation for fashion," Mr. Saltram +answered, with his quiet smile--a smile that gave a wonderful brightness +to his face; "and I think I like London in the autumn better than at any +other time. One has room to move about. I have been in the country of +late because I really do appreciate rural surroundings, and have found +myself able to write better in the perfect quiet of rural life." + +"It is rather hard upon your friends that you should devote all your days +to literature." + +"And still harder upon the reading public, perhaps. But, my dear Mrs. +Branston, remember, I must write to live." + +Adela gave a little impatient sigh. She was thinking how gladly she would +have made this man master of her ample fortune; wondering whether he +would ever claim from her the allegiance she was so ready to give. + +Mr. Pallinson did his best to engage his cousin's attention during the +rest of the evening. He brought her her tea-cup, and hovered about her +while she sipped the beverage with that graceful air of suppressed +tenderness which constant practice in the drawing-rooms of Maida-hill had +rendered almost natural to him; but, do what he would, he could not +distract Mrs. Branston's thoughts and looks from John Saltram. It was on +him that her eyes were fixed while the accomplished Theobald was giving +her a lively account of a concert at the Eyre Arms; and it was the +fascination of his presence which made her answer at random to her +cousin's questions about the last volume of the Laureate's, which she had +been lately reading. Even Mr. Pallinson, obtuse as he was apt to be when +called upon to comprehend any fact derogatory to his own self-esteem, +was fain to confess to himself that this evening's efforts were futile, +and that this dark-faced stranger was the favourite for those matrimonial +stakes he had entered himself to run for. He looked at Mr. Saltram with a +critical eye many times in the course of the evening, wondering what +possible merit any sensible woman could perceive in such a man. But then, +as Theobald Pallinson reflected, the misfortune is that so few women are +sensible; and it was gradually becoming evident to him that Michael +Branston's widow was amongst the most foolish of her sex. + +Mrs. Pallinson kept a sharp watch upon Adela throughout the evening, +plunging into the conversation every now and then with a somewhat +dictatorial and infallible air, and generally contriving to drag some +praise of Theobald into her talk: now dilating rapturously upon that +fever case which he had managed so wonderfully the other day, proving his +judgment superior to that of an eminent consulting physician; anon +launching out into laudation of his last poem, which had been set to +music by a young lady in St. John's-wood; and by-and-by informing the +company of her son's artistic talents, and his extraordinary capacity as +a judge of pictures. To these things the surgeon himself listened with a +deprecating air, smoothing his wristbands, and caressing his slim white +hands, while he playfully reproved his parent for her maternal weakness. + +Mr. Pallinson held his ground near his cousin's chair till the last +moment, while John Saltram sat apart by one of the tables, listlessly +turning over a volume of engravings, and only looking up at long +intervals to join in the conversation. He had an absent weary look, which +puzzled Gilbert Fenton, who, being only a secondary personage in this +narrow circle, had ample leisure to observe his friend. + +The three gentlemen left at the same time, Mr. Pallinson driving away in +a neat miniature brougham, after politely offering to convey his cousin's +guests to their destination. It was a bright starlight night, and Gilbert +walked to the Temple with John Saltram, through the quietest of the +streets leading east-wards. They lit their cigars as they left the +square, and walked for some time in a friendly companionable silence. +When they did speak, their talk was naturally of Adela Branston. + +"I thought she was really charming to-night," Gilbert said, "in spite of +that fellow's efforts to absorb her attention. It is pretty easy to see +how the land lies in that direction; and if such a rival were likely to +injure you, you have a very determined one in Mr. Pallinson." + +"Yes; the surgeon has evidently fixed his hopes upon poor old Michael +Branston's money. But I don't think he will succeed." + +"You will not allow him to do so, I hope?" + +"I don't know about that. Then you really admire the little woman, +Gilbert?" + +"Very much; as much as I have ever admired any woman except Marian +Nowell." + +"Ah, your Marian is a star, single and alone in her brightness, like that +planet up yonder! But Adela Branston is a good little soul, and will make +a charming wife. Gilbert, I wish to heaven you would fall in love with +her!" + +Gilbert Fenton stared aghast at his companion, as he tossed the end of +his cigar into the gutter. + +"Why, John, you must be mad to say such a thing." + +"No, it is by no means a mad notion. I want to see you cured, Gilbert. I +do like you, dear boy, you know, as much as it is possible for a selfish +worthless fellow like me to like any man. I would give a great deal to +see you happy; and I am sure that you might be so as Adela Branston's +husband. I grant you that I am the favourite at present; but she is just +the sort of woman to be won by any man who would really prove himself +worthy of her. Her liking for me is a mere idle fancy, which would soon +die out for want of fuel. You are my superior in every way--younger, +handsomer, better. Why should you not go in for this thing, Gil?" + +"Because I have no heart to give any woman, John. And even if I were +free, I would not give my heart to a woman whose affection had to be +diverted from another channel before it could be bestowed upon me. I +can't imagine what has put such a preposterous idea into your head, or +why it is that you shrink from improving your own chances with Mrs. +Branston." + +"You must not wonder at anything that I do or say, Gilbert. It is my +nature to do strange things--my destiny to take the wrong turning in +life!" + +"When shall I see you again?" Gilbert asked, when they were parting at +the Temple gates. + +"I can scarcely tell you that. I must go back to Oxford to-morrow." + +"So soon?" + +"Yes, my work gets on better down there. I will let you know directly I +return to London." + +On this they parted, Gilbert considerably mystified by his friend's +conduct, but not caring to push his questions farther. He had his own +affairs to think of, that one business which absorbed almost the whole of +his thoughts--the business of his search for the man who had robbed him +of his promised wife, this interval, in which he remained inactive, +devoting himself to the duties of his commercial life, was only a pause +in his labours. He was not the less bent upon bringing about a +face-to-face meeting between himself and Marian's husband because of this +brief suspension of his efforts. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +FATHER AND SON. + + +While Gilbert Fenton was deliberating what steps to take next in his +quest of his unknown enemy, a gentleman arrived at a small hotel near +Charing Cross--a gentleman who was evidently a stranger to England, and +whose portmanteaus and other travelling paraphernalia bore the names of +New York manufacturers. He was a portly individual of middle age, and was +still eminently handsome. He dressed well, lived expensively, and had +altogether a prosperous appearance. He took care to inform the landlord +of the hotel that he was not an American, but had returned to the land of +his birth after an absence of something like fifteen years, and after +realizing a handsome fortune upon the other side of the Atlantic. He was +a very gracious and communicative person, and seemed to take life in an +easy agreeable manner, like a man whose habit it was to look on the +brighter side of all things, provided his own comfort was secured. Norton +Percival was the name on this gentleman's luggage, and on the card which +he gave to the waiter whom he desired to look after his letters. After +dining sumptuously on the evening of his arrival in London, this Mr. +Percival strolled out in the autumn darkness, and made his way through +the more obscure streets between Charing Cross and Wardour-street. The +way seemed familiar enough to him, and he only paused now and then to +take note of some alteration in the buildings which he had to pass. The +last twenty years have not made much change in this neighbourhood, and +the traveller from New York found little to surprise him. + +"The place looks just as dull and dingy as it used to look when I was a +lad," he said to himself. "I daresay I shall find the old court unchanged +in all these years. But shall I find the old man alive? I doubt that. +Dead more likely, and his money gone to strangers. I wonder whether he +had much money, or whether he was really as poor as he made himself out. +It's difficult to say. I know I made him bleed pretty freely, at one time +and another, before he turned rusty; and it's just possible I may have +had pretty nearly all he had to give." + +He was in Wardour-street by this time, looking at the dimly-lighted shops +where brokers' ware of more or less value, old oak carvings, doubtful +pictures, and rusted armour loomed duskily upon the passer-by. At the +corner of Queen Anne's Court he paused, and peered curiously into the +narrow alley. + +"The court is still here, at any rate," he muttered to himself, "and I +shall soon settle the other question." + +His heart beat faster than it was wont to beat as he drew near his +destination. Was it any touch of real feeling, or only selfish +apprehension, that quickened its throbbing? The man's life had been so +utterly reckless of others, that it would be dangerous to give him credit +for any affectionate yearning--any natural remorseful pang in such a +moment as this. He had lived for self, and self alone; and his own +interests were involved in the issue of to-night. + +A few steps brought him before Jacob Nowell's window. Yes, it was just as +he remembered it twenty years before--the same dingy old silver, the same +little heap of gold, the same tray of tarnished jewelry glimmered in the +faint light of a solitary gas-burner behind the murky glass. On the +door-plate there was still Jacob Nowell's name. Yet all this might mean +nothing. The grave might have closed over the old silversmith, and the +interest of trade necessitate the preservation of the familiar name. + +The gentleman calling himself Percival went into the shop. How well he +remembered the sharp jangling sound of the bell! and how intensely he had +hated it and all the surroundings of his father's sordid life in the days +when he was pursuing his headlong career as a fine gentleman, and only +coming to Queen Anne's Court for money! He remembered what an incubus the +shop had been upon him; what a pursuing phantom and perpetual image of +his degradation in the days of his University life, when he was +incessantly haunted by the dread that his father's social status would be +discovered. The atmosphere of the place brought back all the old +feelings, and he was young again, a nervous supplicant for money, which +was likely to be refused to him. + +The sharp peal of the bell produced Mr. Luke Tulliver, who emerged from a +little den in a corner at the back of the shop, where he had been engaged +copying items into a stock-book by the light of a solitary tallow-candle. +The stranger looked like a customer, and Mr. Tulliver received him +graciously, turning up the gas over the counter, which had been burning +at a diminished and economical rate hitherto. + +"Did you wish to look at anything in antique silver, sir?" he asked +briskly. "We have some very handsome specimens of the Queen Anne period." + +"No, I don't want to look at anything. I want to know whether Jacob +Nowell is still living?" + +"Yes, sir. Mr. Nowell is my master. You might have noticed his name upon +the door-plate if you had looked! Do you wish to see him?" + +"I do. Tell him that I am an old friend, just come from America." + +Luke Tulliver went into the parlour behind the half-glass door, Norton +Percival following upon him closely. He heard the old man's voice saying, + +"I have no friend in America; but you may tell the person to come in; I +will see him." + +The voice trembled a little; and the silversmith had raised himself from +his chair, and was looking eagerly towards the door as Norton Percival +entered, not caring to wait for any more formal invitation. The two men +faced each other silently in the dim light from one candle on the +mantelpiece, Jacob Nowell looking intently at the bearded face of his +visitor. + +"You can go, Tulliver," he said sharply to the shopman. "I wish to be +alone with this gentleman." + +Luke Tulliver departed with his usual reluctant air, closing the door as +slowly as it was possible for him to close it, and staring at the +stranger till the last moment that it was possible for him to stare. + +When he was gone the old man took the candle from the mantelpiece, and +held it up before the bearded face of the traveller. + +"Yes, yes, yes," he said slowly; "at last! It is you, Percival, my only +son. I thought you were dead long ago. I had a right to consider you +dead." + +"If I had thought my existence could be a matter of interest to you, I +should hardly have so long refrained from all communication with you. But +your letters led me to suppose you utterly indifferent to my fate." + +"I offered you and your wife a home." + +"Yes, but on conditions that were impossible to me. I had some pride in +those days. My education had not fitted me to stand behind a counter and +drive hard bargains with dealers of doubtful honesty. Nor could I bring +my wife to such a home as this." + +"The time came when you left that poor creature without any home," said +the old man sternly. + +"Necessity has no law, my dear father. You may imagine that my life, +without a profession and without any reliable resources, has been rather +precarious. When I seemed to have acted worst, I have been only the slave +of circumstances." + +"Indeed! and have you no pity for the fate of your wife, no interest in +the life of your only child?" + +"My wife was a poor helpless creature, who contrived to make my life +wretched," Mr. Nowell, alias Percival, answered coolly. "I gave her every +sixpence I possessed when I sent her home to England; but luck went dead +against me for a long time after that, and I could neither send her money +nor go to her. When I heard of her death, I heard in an indirect way that +my child had been adopted by some old fool of a half-pay officer; and I +was naturally glad of an accident which relieved me of a heavy incubus. +An opportunity occurred about the same time of my entering on a tolerably +remunerative career as agent for some Belgian ironworks in America; and I +had no option but to close with the offer at once or lose the chance +altogether. I sailed for New York within a fortnight after poor Lucy's +death, and have lived in America for the last fifteen years. I have +contrived to establish a tolerably flourishing trade there on my own +account; a trade that only needs capital to become one of the first in +New York." + +"Capital!" echoed Jacob Nowell; "I thought there was something wanted. It +would have been a foolish fancy to suppose that affection could have had +anything to do with your coming to me." + +"My dear father, it is surely possible that affection and interest may +sometimes go together. Were I a pauper, I would not venture to present +myself before you at all; but as a tolerably prosperous trader, with the +ability to propose an alliance that should be to our mutual advantage, I +considered I might fairly approach you." + +"I have no money to invest in your trade," the old man answered sternly. +"I am a very poor man, impoverished for life by the wicked extravagance +of your youth. If you have come to me with any hope of obtaining money +from me, you have wasted time and trouble." + +"Let that subject drop, then," Percival Nowell said lightly. "I suppose +you have some remnant of regard for me, in spite of our old +misunderstanding, and that my coming is not quite indifferent to you." + +"No," the other answered, with a touch of melancholy; "it is not +indifferent to me. I have waited for your return these many years. You +might have found me more tenderly disposed towards you, had you come +earlier; but there are some feelings which seem to wear out as a man +grows older,--affections that grow paler day by day, like colours fading +in the sun. Still, I am glad to see you once more before I die. You are +my only son, and you must needs be something nearer to me than the rest +of the world, in spite of all that I have suffered at your hands." + +"I could not come back to England sooner than this," the young man said +presently. "I had a hard battle to fight out yonder." + +There had been very little appearance of emotion upon either side so far. +Percival Nowell took things as coolly as it was his habit to take +everything, while his father carefully concealed whatever deeper feeling +might be stirred in the depths of his heart by this unexpected return. + +"You do not ask any questions about the fate of your only child," the +old man said, by-and-by. + +"My dear father, that is of course a subject of lively interest to me; +but I did not suppose that you could be in a position to give me any +information upon that point." + +"I do happen to know something about your daughter, but not much." + +Jacob Nowell went on to tell his son all that he had heard from Gilbert +Fenton respecting Marian's marriage. Of his own advertisements, and +wasted endeavours to find her, he said nothing. + +"And this fellow whom she has jilted is pretty well off, I suppose?" +Percival said thoughtfully. + +"He is an Australian merchant, and, I should imagine, in prosperous +circumstances." + +"Foolish girl! And this Holbrook is no doubt an adventurer, or he would +scarcely have married her in such a secret way. Have you any wish that +she should be found?" + +"Yes, I have a fancy for seeing her before I die. She is my own flesh and +blood, like you, and has not injured me as you have. I should like to see +her." + +"And if she happened to take your fancy, you would leave her all your +money, I suppose?" + +"Who told you that I have money to leave?" cried the old man sharply. +"Have I not said that I am a poor man, hopelessly impoverished by your +extravagance?" + +"Bah, my dear father, that is all nonsense. My extravagance is a question +of nearly twenty years ago. If I had swamped all you possessed in those +days--which I don't for a moment believe--you have had ample time to make +a fresh fortune since then. You would never have lived all those years in +Queen Anne's Court, except for the sake of money-making. Why, the place +stinks of money. I know your tricks: buying silver from men who are in +too great a hurry to sell it to be particular about the price; lending +money at sixty per cent, a sixty which comes to eighty before the +transaction is finished. A man does not lead such a life as yours for +nothing. You are rolling in money, and you mean to punish me by leaving +it all to Marian." + +The silversmith grew pale with anger during this speech of his son's. + +"You are a consummate scoundrel," he said, "and are at liberty to think +what you please. I tell you, once for all, I am as poor as Job. But if I +had a million, I would not give you a sixpence of it." + +"So be it," the other answered gaily. "I have not performed the duties of +a parent very punctually hitherto; but I don't mind taking some trouble +to find this girl while I am in England, in order that she may not lose +her chances with you." + +"You need give yourself no trouble on that score. Mr. Fenton has promised +to find her for me." + +"Indeed! I should like to see this Mr. Fenton." + +"You can see him if you please; but you are scarcely likely to get a warm +reception in that quarter. Mr. Fenton knows what you have been to your +daughter and to me." + +"I am not going to fling myself into his arms. I only want to hear all he +can tell me about Marian." + +"How long do you mean to stay in England?" + +"That is entirely dependent upon the result of my visit. I had hoped that +if I found you living, which I most earnestly desired might be the case, +I should find in you a friend and coadjutor. I am employed in starting a +great iron company, which is likely--I may say certain--to result in +large gains to all concerned in it; and I fancied I should experience no +difficulty in securing your co-operation. There are the prospectuses of +the scheme" (he flung a heap of printed papers on the table before his +father), "and there is not a line in them that I cannot guarantee on my +credit as a man of business. You can look over them at your leisure, or +not, as you please. I think you must know that I always had an +independent spirit, and would be the last of mankind to degrade myself by +any servile attempt to alter your line of conduct towards me." + +"Independent spirit! Yes!" cried the old man in a mocking tone; "a son +extorts every sixpence he can from his father and mother--ay, Percy, from +his weak loving mother; I know who robbed me to send you money--and then, +when he can extort no more, boasts of his independence. But that will do. +There is no need that we should quarrel. After twenty years' severance, +we can afford to let bygones be bygones. I have told you that I am glad +to see you. If you come to me with disinterested feelings, that is +enough. You may take back your prospectuses. I have nothing to embark in +Yankee speculations. If your scheme is a good one, you will find plenty +of enterprising spirits willing to join you; if it is a bad one, I +daresay you will contrive to find dupes. You can come and see me again +when you please. And now good-night. I find this kind of talk rather +tiring at my age." + +"One word before I leave you," said Percival. "On reflection, I think it +will be as well to say nothing about my presence in England to this Mr. +Fenton. I shall be more free to hunt for Marian without his co-operation, +even supposing he were inclined to give it. You have told me all that he +could tell me, I daresay." + +"I believe I have." + +"Precisely. Therefore no possible good could come of an encounter between +him and me, and I shall be glad if you will keep my name dark." + +"As you please, though I can see no reason for secrecy in the matter." + +"It is not a question of secrecy, but only of prudential reserve." + +"It may be as you wish," answered the old man, carelessly. "Good-night." + +He shook hands with his son, who departed without having broken bread in +his father's house, a little dashed by the coldness of his reception, but +not entirely without hope that some profit might arise to him out of this +connection in the future. + +"The girl must be found," he said to himself. "I am convinced there has +been a great fortune made in that dingy hole. Better that it should go to +her than to a stranger. I'm very sorry she's married; but if this +Holbrook is the adventurer I suppose him, the marriage may come to +nothing. Yes; I must find her. A father returned from foreign lands is +rather a romantic notion--the sort of notion a girl is pretty sure to +take kindly to." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +ON THE TRACK. + + +Gilbert Fenton saw no more of his friend John Saltram after that Sunday +evening which they had spent together in Cavendish-square. He called upon +Mrs. Branston before the week was ended, and was so fortunate as to find +that lady alone; Mrs. Pallinson having gone on a shopping expedition in +her kinswoman's dashing brougham. + +The pretty little widow received Gilbert very graciously; but there was a +slight shade of melancholy in her manner, a pensiveness which softened +and refined her, Gilbert thought. Nor was it long before she allowed him +to discover the cause of her sadness. After a little conventional talk +upon indifferent subjects, she began to speak of John Saltram. + +"Have you seen much of your friend Mr. Saltram since Sunday?" she asked, +with that vain endeavour to speak carelessly with which a woman generally +betrays her real feeling. + +"I have not seen him at all since Sunday. He told me he was going back to +Oxford--or the neighbourhood of Oxford, I believe--almost immediately; +and I have not troubled myself to hunt him up at his chambers." + +"Gone back already!" Mrs. Branston exclaimed, with a disappointed +petulant look that was half-childish, half-womanly. "I cannot imagine +what charm he finds in a dull village on the banks of the river. He has +confessed that the place is the dreariest and most obscure in the world, +and that he has neither shooting nor any other kind of amusement. There +must be some mysterious attraction, Mr. Fenton. I think your friend is a +good deal changed of late. Haven't you found him so?" + +"No, Mrs. Branston, I cannot say that I have discovered any marked +alteration in him since my return from Australia. John Saltram was always +wayward and fitful. He may have been a little more so lately, perhaps, +but that is all." + +"You have a very high opinion of him, I suppose?" + +"He is very dear to me. We were something more than friends in the +ordinary acceptation of the word. Do you remember the story of those two +noble young Venetians who inscribed upon their shield _Fraires, non +amici?_ Saltram and I have been brothers rather than friends." + +"And you think him a good man?" Adela asked anxiously. + +"Most decidedly; I have reason to think so. I believe him to be a +noble-hearted and honourable man; a little neglectful or disdainful of +conventionalities, wearing his faith in God and his more sacred feelings +anywhere than upon his sleeve; but a man who cannot fail to come right in +the long-run." + +"I am so glad to hear you say that. I have known Mr. Saltram some time, +as you may have heard and like him very much. But my cousin Mrs. +Pallinson has quite an aversion to him, and speaks against him with such +a positive air at times, that I have been almost inclined to think she +must be right. I am very inexperienced in the ways of the world, and am +naturally disposed to lean a little upon the opinions of others." + +"But don't you think there may be a reason for Mrs. Pallinson's dislike +of my friend?" + +Adela Branston blushed at this question, and then laughed a little. + +"I think I know what you mean," she said. "Yes, it is just possible that +Mrs. Pallinson may be jealously disposed towards any acquaintance of +mine, on account of that paragon of perfection, her son Theobald. I have +not been so blind as not to see her views in that quarter. But be +assured, Mr. Fenton, that whatever may happen to me, I shall never become +Mrs. Theobald Pallinson." + +"I hope not. I am quite ready to acknowledge Mr. Pallinson's merits and +accomplishments, but I do not think him worthy of you." + +"It is rather awful, isn't it, for me to speak of marriage at all within +a few months of my husband's death? But when a woman has money, people +will not allow her to forget that she is a widow for ever so short a +time. But it is quite a question if I shall ever marry again. I have very +little doubt that real happiness is most likely to be found in a wise +avoidance of all the perils and perplexities of that foolish passion +which we read of in novels, if one could only be wise; don't you think +so, Mr. Fenton?" + +"My own experience inclines me to agree with you, Mrs. Branston," Gilbert +answered, smiling at the little woman's naivete. + +"Your own experience has been unfortunate, then? I wish I were worthy of +your confidence. Mr. Saltram told me some time ago that you were engaged +to a very charming young lady." + +"The young lady in question has jilted me." + +"Indeed! And you are very angry with her, of course?" + +"I loved her too well to be angry with her. I reserve my indignation for +the scoundrel who stole her from me." + +"It is very generous of you to make excuses for the lady," Mrs. Branston +said; and would fain have talked longer of this subject, but Gilbert +concluded his visit at this juncture, not caring to discuss his troubles +with the sympathetic widow. + +He left the great gloomy gorgeous house in Cavendish square more than +ever convinced of Adela Branston's affection for his friend, more than +ever puzzled by John Saltram's indifference to so advantageous an +alliance. + +Within a few days of this visit Gilbert Fenton left London. He had +devoted himself unflinchingly to his business since his return to +England, and had so planned and organized his affairs as to be able now +to absent himself for some little time from the City. He was going upon +what most men would have called a fool's errand--his quest of Marian's +husband; but he was going with a steady purpose in his breast--a +determination never to abandon the search till it should result in +success. He might have to suspend it from time to time, should he +determine to continue his commercial career; but the purpose would be +nevertheless the ruling influence of his life. + +He had but one clue for his guidance in setting out upon this voyage of +discovery. Miss Long had told him that the newly-married couple were to +go to some farm-house in Hampshire which had been lent to Mr. Holbrook by +a friend. It was in Hampshire, therefore, that Gilbert resolved to make +his first inquiries. He told himself that success was merely a question +of time and patience. The business of tracing these people, who were not +to be found by any public inquiry, would be slow and wearisome no doubt. +He was prepared for that. He was prepared for a thousand failures and +disappointments before he alighted on the one place in which Mr. +Holbrook's name must needs be known, the town or village nearest to the +farm-house that had been lent to him. And even if, after unheard-of +trouble and perseverance on his part, he should find the place he wanted, +it was quite possible that Marian and her husband would have gone +elsewhere, and his quest would have to begin afresh. But he fancied that +he could hardly fail to obtain some information as to their plan of life, +if he could find the place where they had stayed after their marriage. + +His own scheme of action was simple enough. He had only to travel from +place to place, making careful inquiries at post-offices and in all +likely quarters at every stage of his journey. He went straight to +Winchester, having a fancy for the quiet old city and the fair pastoral +scenery surrounding it, and thinking that Mr. Holbrook's borrowed retreat +might possibly be in this neighbourhood. The business proved even slower +and more tedious than he had supposed; there were so many farms round +about Winchester, so many places which seemed likely enough, and to which +he went, only to find that no person of the name of Holbrook had ever +been heard of by the inhabitants. + +He made his head-quarters in the cathedral city for nearly a week, and +explored the country round, in a radius of thirty miles, without the +faintest success. It was fine autumn weather, calm and clear, the foliage +still upon the trees, in all its glory of gold and brown, with patches of +green lingering here and there in sheltered places. The country was very +beautiful, and Gilbert Fenton's work would have been pleasant enough if +the elements of peace had been in his breast. But they were not. Bitter +regrets for all he had lost, uneasy fears and wild imaginings about the +fate of her whom he still loved with a fond useless passion,--these and +other gloomy thoughts haunted him day by day, clouding the calm +loveliness of the scenes on which he looked, until all outer things +seemed to take their colour from his own mind. He had loved Marian Nowell +as it is not given to many men to love; and with the loss of her, it +seemed to him as if the very springs of his life were broken. All the +machinery of his existence was loosened and out of gear, and he could +scarcely have borne the dreary burden of his days, had it not been for +that one feverish hope of finding the man who had wronged him. + +The week ended without bringing him in the smallest degree nearer the +chance of success. Happily for himself, he had not expected to succeed in +a week. On leaving Winchester, he started on a kind of vagabond tour +through the county, on a horse which he hired in the cathedral city, and +which carried him from twenty to thirty miles a day. This mode of +travelling enabled him to explore obscure villages and out-of-the-way +places that lay off the line of railway. Everywhere he made the same +inquiries, everywhere with the same result. Another week came to an end. +He had made his voyage of discovery through more than half of the county, +as his pocket-map told him, and was still no nearer success than when he +left London. + +He spent his Sunday at a comfortable inn in a quiet little town, where +there was a curious old church, and a fine peal of bells that seemed to +him to be ringing all day long. It was a dull rainy day. He went to +church in the morning, and in the afternoon stood at the coffee-room +window watching the townspeople going by to their devotions in an absent +unseeing way, and thinking of his own troubles; pausing, just a little, +now and then, from that egotistical brooding to wonder how these people +endured the dull monotonous round of their lives, and what crosses and +disappointments they had to suffer in their small obscure way. + +The inn was very empty, and the landlord waited upon Mr. Fenton in person +at his dinner. Gilbert had the coffee-room all to himself, and it looked +comfortable enough when the curtains were drawn, the lamps lighted, and +the small dinner-table wheeled in front of a blazing fire. + +"I have been thinking over what you were asking me last night, sir," the +host of the White Swan began, while Gilbert was eating his fish; "and +though I can't say that I ever heard the name of Holbrook, I fancy I may +have seen the lady and gentleman you are looking for." + +"Indeed!" exclaimed Gilbert eagerly, pushing away his plate, and turning +full on the landlord. + +"I hope you won't let me spoil your dinner, sir; I know that sole's +fresh. I'm a pretty good judge of those things, and choose every bit of +fish that's cooked in this house. But as I was saying, sir, with regard +to this lady and gentleman, I think you said that the people you are +looking for were strangers to this part of the country, and were +occupying a farm-house that had been lent to them." + +"Precisely." + +"Well, sir, I remember some time in the early part of the year, I think +it must have been about March----" + +"Yes, the people I am looking for would have arrived in March." + +"Indeed, sir! That makes it seem likely. I remember a lady and gentleman +coming here from the railway station--we've got a station close by our +town, as you know, sir, I daresay. They wanted a fly to take them and +their luggage on somewhere--I can't for the life of me remember the name +of the place--but it was a ten-mile drive, and it was a farm--_that_ I +could swear to--Something Farm. If it had been a place I'd known, I think +I should have remembered the name." + +"Can I see the man who drove them?" Gilbert asked quickly. + +"The young man that drove them, sir, has left me, and has left these +parts a month come next Tuesday. Where he has gone is more than I can +tell you. He was very good with horses; but he turned out badly, cheated +me up hill and down dale, as you may say--though what hills and dales +have got to do with it is more than I can tell--and I was obliged to get +rid of him." + +"That's provoking. But if the people I want are anywhere within ten miles +of this place, I don't suppose I should be long finding them. Yet the +mere fact of two strangers coming here, and going on to some place called +a farm, seems very slight ground to go upon. The month certainly +corresponds with the time at which Mr. and Mrs. Holbrook came to +Hampshire. Did you take any particular notice of them?" + +"I took particular notice of the lady. She was as pretty a woman as ever +I set eyes upon--quite a girl. I noticed that the gentleman was very +careful and tender with her when he put her into the carriage, wrapping +her up, and so on. He looked a good deal older than her, and I didn't +much like his looks altogether." + +"Could you describe him?" + +"Well--no, sir. The time was short, and he was wrapped up a good deal; +the collar of his overcoat turned up, and a scarf round his neck. He had +dark eyes, I remember, and rather a stern look in them." + +This was rather too vague a description to make any impression upon +Gilbert. It was something certainly to know that his rival had dark eyes, +if indeed this man of whom the landlord spoke really were his rival. He +had never been able to make any mental picture of the stranger who had +come between him and his betrothed. He had been inclined to fancy that +the man must needs be much handsomer than himself, possessed of every +outward attribute calculated to subjugate the mind of an inexperienced +girl like Marian; but the parish-clerk at Wygrove and Miss Long had both +spoken in a disparaging tone of Mr. Holbrook's personal appearance; and, +remembering this, he was fain to believe that Marian had been won by some +charm more subtle than that of a handsome face. + +He went on eating his dinner in silence for some little time, meditating +upon what the landlord had told him. Then, as the man cleared the table, +lingering over his work, as if eager to impart any stray scraps of +information he might possess, Gilbert spoke to him again. + +"I should have fancied that, as a settled inhabitant of the place, you +would be likely to know every farm and farm-house within ten miles--or +within twenty miles," he said. + +"Well, sir, I daresay I do know the neighbourhood pretty well, in a +general way. But I think, if I'd known the name of the place this lady +and gentleman were going to, it would have struck me more than it did, +and I should have remembered it. I was uncommonly busy through that +afternoon, for it was market-day, and there were a mort of people going +in and out. I never did interfere much with the fly business; it was only +by taking the gentleman out some soda-and-brandy that I came to take the +notice I did of the lady's looks and his care of her. I know it was a +ten-mile drive, and that I told the gentleman the fare, so as there might +be no bother between him and William Tyler, my man, at the end; and he +agreed to it in a liberal off-hand kind of way, like a man who doesn't +care much for money. As to farms within ten miles of here, there are a +dozen at least, one way and another--some small, and some large." + +"Do you know of any place in the ownership of a gentleman who would be +likely to lend his house to a friend?" + +"I can't say I do, sir. They're tenant-farmers about here mostly, and +rather a roughish lot, as you may say. There's a place over beyond +Crosber, ten miles off and more; I don't know the name of it, or the +person it belongs to; but I've noticed it many a time as I've driven by; +a curious old-fashioned house, standing back off one of the lanes out of +Crosber, with a large garden before it. A queer lonesome place +altogether. I should take it to be two or three hundred years old; and I +shouldn't think the house had had money spent upon it within the memory +of man. It's a dilapidated tumbledown old gazabo of a place, and yet +there's a kind of prettiness about it in summer-time, when the garden is +full of flowers. There's a river runs through some of the land about half +a mile from the house." + +"What kind of a place is Crosber?" + +"A bit of a village on the road from here to Portsmouth. The house I'm +telling you about is a mile from Crosber at the least, away from the main +road. There's two or three lanes or by-roads about there, and it lies in +one of them that turns sharp off by the Blue Boar, which is about the +only inn where you can bait a horse thereabouts." + +"I'll ride over there to-morrow morning, and have a look at this queer +old house. You might give me the names of any other farms you know about +this neighbourhood, and their occupants." + +This the landlord was very ready to do. He ran over the names of from ten +to fifteen places, which Gilbert jotted down upon a leaf of his +pocket-book, afterwards planning his route upon the map of the county +which he carried for his guidance. He set out early the next morning +under a low gray sky, with clouds in the distance that threatened rain. +The road from the little market-town to Crosber possessed no especial +beauty. The country was flat and uninteresting about here, and needed +the glory of its summer verdure to brighten and embellish it. But Mr. +Fenton did not give much thought to the scenes through which he went at +this time; the world around and about him was all of one colour--the +sunless gray which pervaded his own life. To-day the low dull sky and the +threatening clouds far away upon the level horizon harmonised well with +his own thoughts--with the utter hopelessness of his mind. +Hopelessness!--yes, that was the word. He had hazarded all upon this one +chance, and its failure was the shipwreck of his life. The ruin was +complete. He could not build up a new scheme of happiness. In the full +maturity of his manhood, his fate had come to him. He was not the kind of +man who can survive the ruin of his plans, and begin afresh with other +hopes and still fairer dreams. It was his nature to be constant. In all +his life he had chosen for himself only one friend--in all his life he +had loved but one woman. + +He came to the little village, with its low sloping-roofed cottages, +whose upper stories abutted upon the road and overshadowed the casements +below; and where here and there a few pennyworths of gingerbread, that +seemed mouldy with the mould of ages, a glass pickle-bottle of +bull's-eyes or sugar-sticks, and half a dozen penny bottles of ink, +indicated the commercial tendencies of Crosber. A little farther on, he +came to a rickety-looking corner-house, with a steep thatched roof +overgrown by stonecrop and other parasites, which was evidently the shop +of the village, inasmuch as one side of the window exhibited a show of +homely drapery, while the other side was devoted to groceries, and a +shelf above laden with great sprawling loaves of bread. This +establishment was also the post-office, and here Gilbert resolved to make +his customary inquiries, when he had put up his horse. + +Almost immediately opposite this general emporium, the sign of the Blue +Boar swung proudly across the street in front of a low rather +dilapidated-looking hostelry, with a wide frontage, and an archway +leading into a spacious desolate yard, where one gloomy cock of Spanish +descent was crowing hoarsely on the broken roof of a shed, surrounded by +four or five shabby-looking hens, all in the most wobegone stage of +moulting, and appearing as if eggs were utterly remote from their +intentions. This Blue Boar was popularly supposed to have been a most +distinguished and prosperous place in the coaching days, when twenty +coaches passed daily through the village of Crosber; and was even now +much affected as a place of resort by the villagers, to the sore vexation +of the rector and such good people as believed in the perfectibility of +the human race and the ultimate suppression of public-houses. + +Here Mr. Fenton dismounted, and surrendered his horse to the keeping of +an unkempt bareheaded youth who emerged from one of the dreary-looking +buildings in the yard, announced himself as the hostler, and led off the +steed in triumph to a wilderness of a stable, where the landlord's pony +and a fine colony of rats were luxuriating in the space designed for some +twelve or fifteen horses. + +Having done this, Gilbert crossed the road to the post-office, where he +found the proprietor, a deaf old man, weighing half-pounds of sugar in +the background, while a brisk sharp-looking girl stood behind the counter +sorting a little packet of letters. + +It was to the damsel, as the more intelligent of these two, that Gilbert +addressed himself, beginning of course with the usual question. Did she +know any one, a stranger, sojourning in that neighbourhood called +Holbrook? + +The girl shook her head without a moment's hesitation. No, she knew no +one of that name. + +"And I suppose all the letters for people in this neighbourhood pass +through your hands?" + +"Yes, sir, all of them; I couldn't have failed to notice if there had +been any one of that name." + +Gilbert gave a little weary sigh. The information given him by the +landlord of the White Swan had seemed to bring him so very near the +object of his search, and here he was thrown back all at once upon the +wide field of conjecture, not a whit nearer any certain knowledge. It was +true that Crosber was only one among several places within ten miles of +the market-town, and the strangers who had been driven from the White +Swan in March last might have gone to any one of those other localities. +His inquiries were not finished yet, however. + +"There is an old house about a mile from here," he said to the girl; "a +house belonging to a farm, in the lane yonder that turns off by the Blue +Boar. Have you any notion to whom it belongs, or who lives there?" + +"An old house in that lane across the way?" the girl said, reflecting. +"That's Golder's lane, and leads to Golder's-green. There's not many +houses there; it's rather a lonesome kind of place. Do you mean a big +old-fashioned house standing far back in a garden?" + +"Yes; that must be the place I want to know about." + +"It must be the Grange, surely. It was a gentleman's house once; but +there's only a bailiff lives there now. The farm belongs to some +gentleman down in Midlandshire, a baronet; I can't call to mind his name +at this moment, though I have heard it often enough. Mr. Carley's +daughter--Carley is the name of the bailiff at the Grange--comes here for +all they want." + +Gilbert gave a little start at the name of Midlandshire. Lidford was in +Midlandshire. Was it not likely to be a Midlandshire man who had lent +Marian's husband his house? + +"Do you know if these people at the Grange have had any one staying with +them lately--any lodgers?" he asked the girl. + +"Yes; they have lodgers pretty well every summer. There were some people +this year, a lady and gentleman; but they never seemed to have any +letters, and I can't tell you their names." + +"Are they living there still?" + +"I can't tell you that. I used to see them at church now and then in the +summer-time; but I haven't seen them lately. There's a church at +Golder's-green almost as near, and they may have been there." + +"Will you tell me what they were like?" Gilbert asked eagerly. + +His heart was beating loud and fast, making a painful tumult in his +breast. He felt assured that he was on the track of the people whom the +innkeeper had described to him; the people who were, in all probability, +Mr. and Mrs. Holbrook. + +"The lady is very pretty and very young--quite a girl. The gentleman +older, dark, and not handsome." + +"Yes. Has the lady gray eyes, and dark-brown hair, and a very bright +expressive face?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Pray try to remember the name of the gentleman to whom the Grange +belongs. It is of great importance to me to know that." + +"I'll ask my father, sir," the girl answered good-naturedly; "he's pretty +sure to know." + +She went across the shop to the old man who was weighing sugar, and +bawled her question into his ear. He scratched his head in a meditative +way for some moments. + +"I've heard the name times and often," he said, "though I never set eyes +upon the gentleman. William Carley has been bailiff at the Grange these +twenty years, and I don't believe as the owner has ever come nigh the +place in all that time. Let me see,--it's a common name enough, though +the gentleman is a baronight. Forster--that's it--Sir something Forster." + +"Sir David?" cried Gilbert. + +"You've hit it, sir. Sir David Forster--that's the gentleman." + +Sir David Forster! He had little doubt after this that the strangers at +the Grange had been Marian and her husband. Treachery, blackest treachery +somewhere. He had questioned Sir David, and had received his positive +assurance that this man Holbrook was unknown to him; and now, against +that there was the fact that the baronet was the owner of a place in +Hampshire, to be taken in conjunction with that other fact that a place +in Hampshire had been lent to Mr. Holbrook by a friend. At the very first +he had been inclined to believe that Marian's lover must needs be one of +the worthless bachelor crew with which the baronet was accustomed to +surround himself. He had only abandoned that notion after his interview +with Sir David Forster; and now it seemed that the baronet had +deliberately lied to him. It was, of course, just possible that he was on +a false scent after all, and that it was to some other part of the +country Mr. Holbrook had brought his bride; but such a coincidence +seemed, at the least, highly improbable. There was no occasion for him to +remain in doubt very long, however. At the Grange he must needs be able +to obtain more definite information. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +FACE TO FACE. + + +Gilbert Fenton left the homely little post-office and turned into the +lane leading to Golder's-green--a way which may have been pleasant enough +in summer, but had no especial charm at this time. The level expanse of +bare ploughed fields on each side of the narrow road had a dreary look; +the hedges were low and thin; a tall elm, with all its lower limbs +mercilessly shorn, uplifted its topmost branches to the dull gray sky, +here and there, like some transformed prophetess raising her gaunt arms +in appeal or malediction; an occasional five-barred gate marked the +entrance to some by-road to the farm; on one side of the way a deep +black-looking ditch lay under the scanty shelter of the low hedge, and +hinted at possible water rats to the traveller from cities who might +happen to entertain a fastidious aversion to such small deer. + +The mile seemed a very long one to Gilbert Fenton. Since his knowledge of +Sir David Forster's ownership of the house to which he was going, his +impatience was redoubled. He had a feverish eagerness to come at the +bottom of this mystery. That Sir David had lied to him, he had very +little doubt. Whoever this Mr. Holbrook was, it was more likely that he +should have escaped the notice of Lidford people as a guest at Heatherly +than under any other circumstances. At Heatherly it was such a common +thing for strangers to come and go, that even the rustic gossips had left +off taking much interest in the movements of the Baronet or his guests. +There was one thought that flashed suddenly into Gilbert's mind during +that gloomy walk under the lowering gray sky. + +If this man Holbrook were indeed a friend of Sir David Forster's, how +did it happen that John Saltram had failed to recognize his name? The +intimacy between Forster and Saltram was of such old standing, that it +seemed scarcely likely that any acquaintance of Sir David's could be +completely unknown to the other. Were they all united in treachery +against him? Had his chosen friend--the man he loved so well--been able +to enlighten him, and had he coldly withheld his knowledge? No, he told +himself, that was not possible. Sir David Forster might be the falsest, +most unprincipled of mankind; but he could not believe John Saltram +capable of baseness, or even coldness, towards him. + +He was at the end of his journey by this time. The Grange stood in front +of him--a great rambling building, with many gables, gray lichen-grown +walls, and quaint old diamond-paned casements in the upper stories. +Below, the windows were larger, and had an Elizabethan look, with patches +of stained glass here and there. The house stood back from the road, with +a spacious old-fashioned garden before it; a garden with flower-beds of a +Dutch design, sheltered from adverse winds by dense hedges of yew and +holly; a pleasant old garden enough, one could fancy, in summer weather. +The flower-beds were for the most part empty now, and the only flowers to +be seen were pale faded-looking chrysanthemums and Michaelmas daises. The +garden was surrounded by a high wall, and Gilbert contemplated it first +through the rusty scroll-work of a tall iron gate, surmounted by the arms +and monogram of the original owner. On one side of the house there was a +vast pile of building, comprising stables and coach-houses, barns and +granaries, arranged in a quadrangle. The gate leading into this +quadrangle was open, and Gilbert saw the cattle standing knee-deep in a +straw-yard. + +He rang a bell, which had a hoarse rusty sound, as if it had not been +rung very often of late; and after he had waited for some minutes, and +rung a second time, a countrified-looking woman emerged from the house, +and came slowly along the wide moss-grown gravel-walk towards him. She +stared at him with the broad open stare of rusticity, and did not make +any attempt to open the gate, but stood with a great key in her hand, +waiting for Gilbert to speak. + +"This is Sir David Forster's house, I believe," he said. + +"Yes, sir, it be; but Sir David doesn't live here." + +"I know that. You have some lodgers here--a lady and gentleman called +Holbrook." + +He plunged at once at this assertion, as the easiest way of arriving at +the truth. He had a conviction that this solitary farm-house was the +place to which his unknown rival had brought Marian. + +"Yes, sir," the woman answered, still staring at him in her slow stupid +way. "Mrs. Holbrook is here, but Mr. Holbrook is away up in London. Did +you wish to see the lady?" + +Gilbert's heart gave a great throb. She was here, close to him! In the +next minute he would be face to face with her, with that one woman whom +he loved, and must continue to love, until the end of his life. + +"Yes," he said eagerly, "I wish to see her. You can take me to her at +once. I am an old friend. There is no occasion to carry in my name." + +He had scarcely thought of seeing Marian until this moment. It was her +husband he had come to seek; it was with him that his reckoning was to be +made; and any meeting between Marian and himself was more likely to prove +a hindrance to this reckoning than otherwise. But the temptation to seize +the chance of seeing her again was too much for him. Whatever hazard +there might be to his scheme of vengeance in such an encounter slipped +out of his mind before the thought of looking once more at that idolised +face, of hearing the loved voice once again. The woman hesitated for a +few moments, telling Gilbert that Mrs. Holbrook never had visitors, and +she did not know whether she would like to see him; but on his +administering half-a-crown through the scroll-work of the gate, she put +the key in the lock and admitted him. He followed her along the +moss-grown path to a wide wooden porch, over which the ivy hung like a +voluminous curtain, and through a half-glass door into a low roomy hall, +with massive dark oak-beams across the ceiling, and a broad staircase of +ecclesiastical aspect leading to a gallery above. The house had evidently +been a place of considerable grandeur and importance in days gone by; but +everything in it bore traces of neglect and decay. The hall was dark and +cold, the wide fire-place empty, the iron dogs red with rust. Some sacks +of grain were stored in one corner, a rough carpenter's bench stood under +one of the mullioned windows, and some garden-seeds were spread out to +dry in another. + +The woman opened a low door at the end of this hall, and ushered Gilbert +into a sitting-room with three windows looking out upon a Dutch +bowling-green, a quadrangle of smooth turf shut in by tall hedges of +holly. The room was empty, and the visitor had ample leisure to examine +it while the woman went to seek Mrs. Holbrook. + +It was a large room with a low ceiling, and a capacious old-fashioned +fire-place, where a rather scanty fire was burning in a dull slow way. +The furniture was old and worm-eaten,--furniture that had once been +handsome,--and was of a ponderous fashion that defied time. There was a +massive oaken cabinet on one side of the room, a walnut-wood bureau with +brass handles on the other. A comfortable looking sofa, of an antiquated +design, with chintz-covered cushions, had been wheeled near the +fire-place; and close beside it there was a small table with an open desk +upon it, and some papers scattered loosely about. There were a few autumn +flowers in a homely vase upon the centre table, and a work-basket with +some slippers, in Berlin wool work, unfinished. + +Gilbert Fenton contemplated all these things with supreme tenderness. It +was here that Marian had lived for so many months--alone most likely for +the greater part of the time. He had a fixed idea that the man who had +stolen his treasure was some dissipated worldling, altogether unworthy so +sacred a trust. The room had a look of loneliness to him. He could fancy +the long solitary hours in this remote seclusion. + +He had to wait for some little time, walking slowly up and down; very +eager for the interview that was to come, yet with a consciousness that +his fate would seem only so much the darker to him afterwards, when he +had to turn his back upon this place, with perhaps no hope of ever seeing +Marian again. At last there came a light footfall; the door was opened, +and his lost love came into the room. + +Gilbert Fenton was standing near the fire-place, with his back to the +light. For the first few moments it was evident that Marian did not +recognize him. She came towards him slowly, with a wondering look in her +face, and then stopped suddenly with a faint cry of surprise. + +"You here!" she exclaimed. "O, how did you find this place? Why did you +come?" + +She clasped her hands, looking at him in a half-piteous way that went +straight to his heart. What he had told Mrs. Branston was quite true. It +was not in him to be angry with this girl. Whatever bitterness there +might have been in his mind until this moment fled away at sight of her. +His heart had no room for any feeling but tenderness and pity. + +"Did you imagine that I should rest until I had seen you once more, +Marian? Did you suppose I should submit to lose you without hearing from +your own lips why I have been so unfortunate?" + +"I did not think you would waste time or thought upon any one so wicked +as I have been towards you," she answered slowly, standing before him +with a pale sad face and downcast eyes. "I fancied that whatever love you +had ever felt for me--and I know how well you did love me--would perish +in a moment when you found how basely I had acted. I hoped that it would +be so." + +"No, Marian; love like mine does not perish so easily as that. O, my +love, my love, why did you forsake me so cruelly? What had I done to +merit your desertion of me?" + +"What had you done! You had only been too good to me. I know that there +is no excuse for my sin. I have prayed that you and I might never meet +again. What can I say? From first to last I have been wrong. From first +to last I have acted weakly and wickedly. I was flattered and gratified +by your affection for me; and when I found that my dear uncle had set his +heart upon our marriage, I yielded against my own better reason, which +warned me that I did not love you as you deserved to be loved. Then for a +long time I was blind to the truth. I did not examine my own heart. I was +quite able to estimate all your noble qualities, and I fancied that I +should be very happy as your wife. But you must remember that at the +last, when you were leaving England, I asked you to release me, and told +you that it would be happier for both of us to be free." + +"Why was that, Marian?" + +"Because at that last moment I began to doubt my own heart." + +"Had there been any other influence at work, Marian? Had you seen your +husband, Mr. Holbrook, at that time?" She blushed crimson, and the +slender hands nervously clasped and unclasped themselves before she +spoke. + +"I cannot answer that question," she said at last. + +"That is quite as good as saying 'yes.' You had seen this man; he had +come between us already. O, Marian, Marian, why were you not more +candid?" + +"Because I was weak and foolish. I could not bear to make you unhappy. O, +believe me, Gilbert, I had no thought of falsehood at that time. I fully +meant to be true to my promise, come what might." + +"I am quite willing to believe that," he answered gently. "I believe that +you acted from first to last under the influence of a stronger will than +your own. You can see that I feel no resentment against you. I come to +you in sorrow, not in anger. But I want to understand how this thing came +to pass. Why was it that you never wrote to me to tell me the complete +change in your feelings?" + +"It was thought better not," Marian faltered, after a pause. + +"By you?" + +"No; by my husband." + +"And you suffered him to dictate to you in that matter. Against your own +sense of right?" + +"I loved him," she answered simply. "I have never refused to obey him in +anything. I will own that I thought it would be better to write and tell +you the truth; but my husband thought otherwise. He wished our marriage +to remain a secret from you, and from all the world for some time to +come. He had his own reasons for that--reasons I was bound to respect. I +cannot think how you came to discover this out-of-the-world place." + +"I have taken some trouble to find you, Marian, and it is a hard thing +to find you the wife of another; but the bitterness of it must be borne. +I do not want to reproach you when I tell you that my life has been +broken utterly by this blow. I want you to believe in my truth and +honour, to trust me now as you might have trusted me when you first +discovered that you could not love me. Since I am not to be your husband, +let me be the next best thing--your friend. The day may come in which +you will have need of an honest man's friendship." + +She shook her head sadly. + +"You are very good," she said; "but there is no possibility of friendship +between you and me. If you will only say that you can forgive me for the +great wrong I have done you, there will be a heavy burden lifted from my +heart; and whatever you may think now, I cannot doubt that in the future +you will find some one far better worthy of your love than ever I could +have been." + +"That is the stereotyped form of consolation, Marian, a man is always +referred to--that shadowy and perfect creature who is to appear in the +future, and heal all his wounds. There will be no such after-love for me. +I staked all when I played the great game; and have lost all. But why +cannot I be your friend, Marian?" + +"Can you forgive my husband for his part in the wrong that has been done +you? Can you be his friend, knowing what he has done?" + +"No!" Gilbert answered fiercely between his set teeth. "I can forgive +your weakness, but not the man's treachery." + +"Then you can never be mine," Marian said firmly. + +"Remember, I am not talking of a common friendship, a friendship of daily +association. I offer myself to you as refuge in the hour of trouble, a +counsellor in perplexity, a brother always waiting in the background of +your life to protect or serve you. Of course, it is quite possible you +may never have need of protection or service--God knows, I wish you all +happiness--but there are not many lives quite free from trouble, and the +day may come in which you will want a friend." + +"If it ever does, I will remember your goodness." + +Gilbert looked scrutinisingly at Marian Holbrook as she stood before him +with the cold gray light of the sunless day full upon her face. He wanted +to read the story of her life in that beautiful face, if it were +possible. He wanted to know whether she was happy with the man who had +stolen her from him. + +She was very pale, but that might be fairly attributed to the agitation +caused by his presence. Gilbert fancied that there was a careworn look in +her face, and that her beauty had faded a little since those peaceful +days at Lidford, when these two had wasted the summer hours in idle talk +under the walnut trees in the Captain's garden. She was dressed very +plainly in black. There was no coquettish knot of ribbon at her throat; +no girlish trinkets dangled at her waist--all those little graces and +embellishments of costume which seem natural to a woman whose life is +happy, were wanting in her toilet to-day; and slight as these indications +were, Gilbert did not overlook them. + +Did he really wish her to be happy--happy with the rival he so fiercely +hated? He had said as much; and in saying so, he had believed that he was +speaking the truth. But he was only human; and it is just possible that, +tenderly as he still loved this girl, he may have been hardly capable of +taking pleasure in the thought of her happiness. + +"I want you to tell me about your husband, Marian," he said after a +pause; "who and what he is." + +"Why should I do that?" she asked, looking at him with a steady, almost +defiant, expression. "You have said that you will never forgive him. What +interest can you possibly feel in his affairs?" + +"I am interested in him upon your account." + +"I cannot tell you anything about him. I do not know how you could have +discovered even his name." + +"I learned that at Wygrove, where I first heard of your marriage." + +"Did you go to Wygrove, then?" + +"Yes; I have told you that I spared no pains to find you. Nor shall I +spare any pains to discover the history of the man who has wronged me. It +would be wiser for you to be frank with me, Marian. Rely upon it that I +shall sooner or later learn the secret underlying this treacherous +business." + +"You profess to be my friend, and yet are avowedly say husband's enemy. +Why cannot you be truly generous, Gilbert, and pardon him? Believe me, he +was not willingly treacherous; it was his fate to do you this wrong." + +"A poor excuse for a man, Marian. No, my charity will not stretch far +enough for that. But I do not come to you quite on a selfish errand, to +speak solely of my own wrongs. I have something to tell you of real +importance to yourself." + +"What is that?" + +Gilbert Fenton described the result of his first advertisement, and his +acquaintance with Jacob Nowell. + +"It is my impression that this old man is rich, Marian; and there is +little doubt that he would leave all he possesses to you, if you went to +him at once." + +"I do not care very much about money for my own sake," she answered with +rather a mournful smile; "but we are not rich, and I should be glad of +anything that would improve my husband's position. I should like to see +my grandfather: I stand so much alone in the world that it would be very +sweet to me to find a near relation." + +"Your husband must surely have seen Mr. Nowell's advertisement," Gilbert +said after a pause. "It was odd that he did not tell you about it--that +he did not wish you to reply to it." + +"The advertisement may have escaped him, or he may have looked upon it as +a trap to discover our retreat," Marian answered frankly. + +"I cannot understand the motive for such secrecy." + +"There is no occasion that you should understand it. Every life has its +own mystery--its peculiar perplexities. When I married my husband, I was +prepared to share all his troubles. I have been obedient to him in +everything." + +"And has your marriage brought you happiness, Marian?" + +"I love my husband," she answered with a plaintive reproachful look, as +if there had been a kind of cruelty in his straight question. "I do not +suppose that there is such a thing as perfect happiness in the world." + +The answer was enough for Gilbert Fenton. It told him that this girl's +life was not all sunshine. + +He had not the heart to push his inquiries farther. He felt that he had +no right to remain any longer, when in all probability his presence was a +torture to the girl who had injured him. + +"I will not prolong my visit, Marian," he said regretfully. "It was +altogether a foolish one, perhaps; but I wanted so much to see you once +more, to hear some explanation of your conduct from your own lips." + +"My conduct can admit of neither explanation nor justification," she +replied humbly. "I know how wickedly I have acted. Believe me, Gilbert, I +am quite conscious of my unworthiness, and how little right I have to +expect your forgiveness." + +"It is my weakness, rather than my merit, not to be able to cherish any +angry feeling against you, Marian. Mine has been a slavish kind of love. +I suppose that sort of thing never is successful. Women have an +instinctive contempt for men who love them with such blind unreasonable +idolatry." + +"I do not know how that may be; but I know that I have always respected +and esteemed you," she answered in her gentle pleading way. + +"I am grateful to you even for so much as that. And now I suppose I must +say good-bye--rather a hard word to say under the circumstances. Heaven +knows when you and I may meet again." + +"Won't you stop and take some luncheon? I dine early when my husband is +away; it saves trouble to the people of the house. The bailiff's daughter +always dines with me when I am alone; but I don't suppose you will mind +sitting down with her. She is a good girl, and very fond of me." + +"I would sit down to dinner with a chimney-sweep, if he were a favourite +of yours, Marian--or Mrs. Holbrook; I suppose I must call you that now." + +After this they talked of Captain Sedgewick for a little, and the tears +came to Marian's eyes as she spoke of that generous and faithful +protector. While they were talking thus, the door was opened, and a +bright-faced countrified-looking girl appeared carrying a tray. She was +dressed in a simple pretty fashion, a little above her station as a +bailiff's daughter, and had altogether rather a superior look, in spite +of her rusticity, Gilbert thought. + +She was quite at her ease in his presence, laying the cloth briskly and +cleverly, and chattering all the time. + +"I am sure I'm very glad any visitor should come to see Mrs. Holbrook," +she said; "for she has had a sad lonely time of it ever since she has +been here, poor dear. There are not many young married women would put up +with such a life." + +"Nelly," Marian exclaimed reproachfully, "you know that I have had +nothing to put up with--that I have been quite happy here." + +"Ah, it's all very well to say that, Mrs. Holbrook; but I know better. I +know how many lonely days you've spent, so downhearted that you could +scarcely speak or look up from your book, and that only an excuse for +fretting.--If you're a friend of Mr. Holbrook's, you might tell him as +much, sir; that he's killing his pretty young wife by inches, by leaving +her so often alone in this dreary place. Goodness knows, it isn't that I +want to get rid of her. I like her so much that I sha'n't know what to do +with myself when she's gone. But I love her too well not to speak the +truth when I see a chance of its getting to the right ears." + +"I am no friend of Mr. Holbrook's," Gilbert answered; "but I think you +are a good generous-hearted girl." + +"You are a very foolish girl," Marian exclaimed; "and I am extremely +angry with you for talking such utter nonsense about me. I may have been +a little out of spirits sometimes in my husband's absence; but that is +all. I shall begin to think that you really do want to get rid of me, +Nell, say what you will." + +"That's a pretty thing, when you know that I love you as dearly as if you +were my sister; to say nothing of father, who makes a profit by your +being here, and would be fine and angry with me for interfering. No, Mrs. +Holbrook; it's your own happiness I'm thinking of, and nothing else. And +I do say that it's a shame for a pretty young woman like you to be shut +up in a lonely old farm-house while your husband is away, enjoying +himself goodness knows where; and when he is here, I can't see that he's +very good company, considering that he spends the best part of his +time--" + +The girl stopped abruptly, warned by a look from Marian. Gilbert saw this +look, and wondered what revelation of Mr. Holbrook's habits the bailiff's +daughter had been upon the point of making; he was so eager to learn +something of this man, and had been so completely baffled in all his +endeavours hitherto. + +"I will not have my affairs talked about in this foolish way, Ellen +Carley," Marian said resolutely. + +And then they all three sat down to the dinner-table. The dishes were +brought in by the woman who had admitted Gilbert. The dinner was +excellent after a simple fashion, and very nicely served; but for Mr. +Fenton the barn-door fowl and home-cured ham might as well have been the +grass which the philosopher believed the French people might learn to +eat. He was conscious of nothing but the one fact that he was in Marian's +society for perhaps the last time in his life. He wondered at himself not +a little for the weakness which made it so sweet to him to be with her. + +The moment came at last in which he must needs take his leave, having no +possible excuse for remaining any longer. + +"Good-bye, Marian," he said. "I suppose we are never likely to meet +again." + +"One never knows what may happen; but I think it is far better we should +not meet, for many reasons." + +"What am I to tell your grandfather when I see him?" + +"That I will come to him as soon as I can get my husband's permission to +do so." + +"I should not think there would be any difficulty about that, when he +knows that this relationship is likely to bring you fortune." + +"I daresay not." + +"And if you come to London to see Mr. Nowell, there will be some chance +of our meeting again." + +"What good can come of that?" + +"Not much to me, I daresay. It would be a desperate, melancholy kind of +pleasure. Anything is better than the idea of losing sight of you for +ever--of leaving this room to-day never to look upon your face again." + +He wrote Jacob Nowell's address upon one of his own cards, and gave it to +Marian; and then prepared to take his departure. He had an idea that the +bailiff's daughter would conduct him to the gate, and that he would be +able to make some inquiries about Mr. Holbrook on his way. It is possible +that Marian guessed his intentions in this respect; for she offered to +go with him to the gate herself; and he could not with any decency +refuse to be so honoured. + +They went through the hall together, where all was as still and lifeless +as it had been when he arrived, and walked slowly side by side along the +broad garden-path in utter silence. At the gate Gilbert stopped suddenly, +and gave Marian his hand. + +"My darling," he said, "I forgive you with all my heart; and I will pray +for your happiness." + +"Will you try to forgive my husband also?" she asked in her plaintive +beseeching way. + +"I do not know what I am capable of in that direction. I promise that, +for your sake, I will not attempt to do him any injury." + +"God bless you for that promise! I have so dreaded the chance of a +meeting between you two. It has often been the thought of that which has +made me unhappy when that faithful girl, Nelly, has noticed my low +spirits. You have removed a great weight from my mind." + +"And you will trust me better after that promise?" + +"Yes; I will trust you as you deserve to be trusted, with all my heart." + +"And now, good-bye. It is a hard word for me to say; but I must not +detain you here in the cold." + +He bent his head, and pressed his lips upon the slender little hand which +held the key of the gate. In the next moment he was outside that tall +iron barrier; and it seemed to him as if he were leaving Marian in a +prison. The garden, with its poor pale scentless autumn flowers, had a +dreary look under the dull gray sky. He thought of the big empty house, +with its faded traces of vanished splendour, and of Marian's lonely life +in it, with unspeakable pain. How different from the sunny home which he +had dreamed of in the days gone by--the happy domestic life which he had +fancied they two might lead! + +"And she loves this man well enough to endure the dullest existence for +his sake," he said to himself as he turned his back at last upon the tall +iron gate, having lingered there for some minutes after Marian had +re-entered the house. "She could forget all our plans for the future at +his bidding." + +He thought of this with a jealous pang, and with all his old anger +against his unknown rival. Moved by an impulse of love and pity for +Marian, he had promised that this man should suffer no injury at his +hands; and, having so pledged himself, he must needs keep his word. But +there were certain savage feelings and primitive instincts in his breast +not easily to be vanquished; and he felt that now he had bound himself to +keep the peace in relation to Mr. Holbrook, it would be well that those +two should not meet. + +"But I will have some explanation from Sir David Forster as to that lie +he told me," he said to himself; "and I will question John Saltram about +this man Holbrook." + +John Saltram--John Holbrook. An idea flashed into his brain that seemed +to set it on fire. What if John Saltram and John Holbrook were one! What +if the bosom friend whom he had introduced to his betrothed had played +the traitor, and stolen her from him! In the next moment he put the +supposition away from him, indignant with himself for being capable of +thinking such a thing, even for an instant. Of all the men upon earth who +could have done him this wrong, John Saltram was the last he could have +believed guilty. Yet the thought recurred to him many times after this +with a foolish tiresome persistence; and he found himself going over the +circumstances of his friend's acquaintance with Marian, his hasty +departure from Lidford, his return there later during Sir David Forster's +illness. Let him consider these facts as closely as he might, there was +no especial element of suspicion in them. There might have been a hundred +reasons for that hurried journey to London--nay, the very fact itself +argued against the supposition that Mr. Saltram had fallen in love with +his friend's plighted wife. + +And now, the purpose of his life being so far achieved, Gilbert Fenton +rode back to Winchester next day, restored his horse to its proprietor, +and went on to London by an evening train. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +MISS CARLEY'S ADMIRERS. + + +There were times in which Marian Holbrook's life would have been utterly +lonely but for the companionship of Ellen Carley. This warm-hearted +outspoken country girl had taken a fancy to Mr. Holbrook's beautiful wife +from the hour of her arrival at the Grange, one cheerless March evening, +and had attached herself to Marian from that moment with unalterable +affection and fidelity. The girl's own life at the Grange had been lonely +enough, except during the brief summer months, when the roomy old house +was now and then enlivened a little by the advent of a lodger,--some +stray angler in search of a secluded trout stream, or an invalid who +wanted quiet and fresh air. But in none of these strangers had Ellen ever +taken much interest. They had come and gone, and made very little +impression upon her mind, though she had helped to make their sojourn +pleasant in her own brisk cheery way. + +She was twenty-one years of age, very bright-looking, if not absolutely +pretty, with dark expressive eyes, a rosy brunette complexion, and very +white teeth. The nose belonged to the inferior order of pug or snub; the +forehead was low and broad, with dark-brown hair rippling over it--hair +which seemed always wanting to escape from its neat arrangement into a +multitude of mutinous curls. She was altogether a young person whom the +admirers of the soubrette style of beauty might have found very charming; +and, secluded as her life at the Grange had been, she had already more +than one admirer. + +She used to relate her love affairs to Marian Holbrook in the quiet +summer evenings, as the two sat under an old cedar in the meadow nearest +the house--a meadow which had been a lawn in the days when the Grange was +in the occupation of great folks; and was divided from a broad +terrace-walk at the back of the house by a dry grass-grown moat, with +steep sloping banks, upon which there was a wealth of primroses and +violets in the early spring. Ellen Carley told Mrs. Holbrook of her +admirers, and received sage advice from that experienced young matron, +who by-and-by confessed to her humble companion the error of her own +girlhood, and how she had jilted the most devoted and generous lover that +ever a woman could boast of. + +For some months--for the bright honeymoon period of her wedded +life--Marian had been completely happy in that out-of-the-world region. +It is not to be supposed that she had done so great a wrong to Gilbert +Fenton except under the influence of a great love, or the dominion of a +nature powerful enough to subjugate her own. Both these influences had +been at work. Too late she had discovered that she had never really loved +Gilbert Fenton; that the calm grateful liking which she had told herself +must needs be the sole version of the grand passion whereof her nature +was capable, had been only the tamest, most ordinary kind of friendship +after all, and that in the depths of her soul there was a capacity for an +utterly different attachment--a love which was founded on neither respect +nor gratitude, but which sprang into life in a moment, fatal and +all-absorbing from its birth. + +Heaven knows she had struggled bravely against this luckless passion, had +resisted long and steadily the assiduous pursuit, the passionate +half-despairing pleading, of her lover, who would not be driven away, and +who invented all kinds of expedients for seeing her, however difficult +the business might be, or however resolutely she might endeavour to avoid +him. It was only after her uncle's death, when her mind was weakened by +excessive grief, that her strong determination to remain faithful to her +absent betrothed had at last given way before the force of those tender +passionate prayers, and she had consented to the hasty secret marriage +which her lover had proposed. Her consent once given, not a moment had +been lost. The business had been hurried on with the utmost eagerness by +the impetuous lover, who would give her as little opportunity as possible +of changing her mind, and who had obtained complete mastery of her will +from the moment in which she promised to be his wife. + +She loved him with all the unselfish devotion of which her nature was +capable; and no thought of the years to come, or of what her future life +might be with this man, of whose character and circumstances she knew so +very little, ever troubled her. Having sacrificed her fidelity to Gilbert +Fenton, she held all other sacrifices light as air--never considered them +at all, in fact. When did a generous romantic girl of nineteen ever stop +to calculate the chances of the future, or fear to encounter poverty and +trouble with the man she loved? To Marian this man was henceforth all the +world. It was not that he was handsomer, or better, or in any obvious way +superior to Gilbert Fenton. It was only that he was just the one man able +to win her heart. That mysterious attraction which reason can never +reduce to rule, which knows no law of precedent or experience, reigned +here in full force. It is just possible that the desperate circumstances +of the attachment, the passionate pursuit of the lover, not to be checked +by any obstacle, may have had an influence upon the girl's mind. There +was a romance in such love as this that had not existed in Mr. Fenton's +straightforward wooing; and Marian was too young to be quite proof +against the subtle charm of a secret, romantic, despairing passion. + +For some time she was very happy; and the remote farm-house, with its +old-fashioned gardens and fair stretch of meadow-land beyond them, where +all shade and beauty had not yet been sacrificed to the interests of +agriculture, seemed to her in those halcyon days a kind of earthly +paradise. She endured her husband's occasional absence from this rural +home with perfect patience. These absences were rare and brief at first, +but afterwards grew longer and more frequent. Nor did she ever sigh for +any brighter or gayer life than this which they led together at the +Grange. In him were the beginning and end of her hopes and dreams; and so +long as he was pleased and contented, she was completely happy. It was +only when a change came in him--very slight at first, but still obvious +to his wife's tender watchful eyes--that her own happiness was clouded. +That change told her that whatever he might be to her, she was no longer +all the world to him. He loved her still, no doubt; but the bright +holiday-time of his love was over, and his wife's presence had no longer +the power to charm away every dreary thought. He was a man in whose +disposition there was a lurking vein of melancholy--a kind of chronic +discontent very common to men of whom it has been said that they might do +great things in the world, and who have succeeded in doing nothing. + +It is not to be supposed that Mr. Holbrook intended to keep his wife shut +away from the world in a lonely farm-house all her life. The place suited +him very well for the present; the apartments at the Grange, and the +services of Mr. Carley and his dependents, had been put at his disposal +by the owner of the estate, together with all farm and garden produce. +Existence here therefore cost him very little; his chief expenses were in +gifts to the bailiff and his underlings, which he bestowed with a liberal +hand. His plans for the future were as yet altogether vague and +unsettled. He had thoughts of emigration, of beginning life afresh in a +new country--anything to escape from the perplexities that surrounded him +here; and he had his reasons for keeping his wife secluded. Nor did his +conscience disturb him much--he was a man who had his conscience in very +good training--as to the unfairness of this proceeding. Marian was happy, +he told himself; and when time came for some change in the manner of +her existence, he doubted if the change would be for the better. + +So the days and weeks and months had passed away, bringing little variety +with them, and none of what the world calls pleasure. Marian read and +worked and rambled in the country lanes and meadows with Ellen Carley, +and visited the poor people now and then, as she had been in the habit of +doing at Lidford. She had not very much to give them, but gave all she +could; and she had a gentle sympathetic manner, which made her welcome +amongst them, most of all where there were children, for whom she had +always a special attraction. The little ones clung to her and trusted +her, looking up at her lovely face with spontaneous affection. + +William Carley, the bailiff, was a big broad-shouldered man, with a heavy +forbidding countenance, and a taciturn habit by no means calculated to +secure him a large circle of friends. His daughter and only child was +afraid of him; his wife had been afraid of him in her time, and had faded +slowly out of a life that had been very joyless, unawares, hiding her +illness from him to the last, as if it had been a sort of offence against +him to be ill. It was only when she was dying that the bailiff knew he +was going to lose her; and it must be confessed that he took the loss +very calmly. + +Whatever natural grief he may have felt was carefully locked in his own +breast. His underlings, the farm-labourers, found him a little more +"grumpy" than usual, and his daughter scarcely dared open her lips to him +for a month after the funeral. But from that time forward Miss Carley, +who was rather a spirited damsel, took a very different tone with her +father. She was not to be crushed and subdued into a mere submissive +shadow, as her mother had been. She had a way of speaking her mind on all +occasions which was by no means agreeable to the bailiff. If he drank +too much overnight, she took care to tell him of it early next morning. +If he went about slovenly and unshaven, her sharp tongue took notice of +the fact. Yet with all this, she waited upon him, and provided for his +comfort in a most dutiful manner. She saved his money by her dexterous +management of the household, and was in all practical matters a very +treasure among daughters. William Carley liked comfort, and liked money +still better, and he was quite aware that his daughter was valuable to +him, though he was careful not to commit himself by any expression of +that opinion. + +He knew her value so well that he was jealously averse to the idea of her +marrying and leaving him alone at the Grange. When young Frank Randall, +the lawyer's son, took to calling at the old house very often upon summer +evenings, and by various signs and tokens showed himself smitten with +Ellen Carley, the bailiff treated the young man so rudely that he was +fain to cease from coming altogether, and to content himself with an +occasional chance meeting in the lane, when Ellen had business at +Crosber, and walked there alone after tea. He would not have been a +particularly good match for any one, being only an articled clerk to his +father, whose business in the little market-town of Malsham was by no +means extensive; and William Carley spoke of him scornfully as a pauper. +He was a tall good-looking young fellow, however, with a candid pleasant +face and an agreeable manner; so Ellen was not a little angry with her +father for his rudeness, still more angry with him for his encouragement +of her other admirer, a man called Stephen Whitelaw, who lived about a +mile from the Grange, and farmed his own land, an estate of some extent +for that part of the country. + +"If you must marry," said the bailiff, "and it's what girls like you seem +to be always thinking about, you can't do better than take up with Steph +Whitelaw. He's a warm man, Nell, and a wife of his will never want a meal +of victuals or a good gown to her back. You'd better not waste your +smiles and your civil words on a beggar like young Randall, who won't +have a home to take you to for these ten years to come--not then, +perhaps--for there's not much to be made by law in Malsham now-a-days. +And when his father dies--supposing he's accommodating enough to die in a +reasonable time, which it's ten to one he won't be--the young man will +have his mother and sisters to keep upon the business very likely, and +there'd be a nice look-out for you. Now, if you marry my old friend +Steph, he can make you a lady." + +This was a very long speech for Mr. Carley. It was grumbled out in short +spasmodic sentences between the slow whiffs of his pipe, as he sat by the +fire in a little parlour off the hall, with his indefatigable daughter at +work at a table near him. + +"Stephen Whitelaw had need be a gentleman himself before he could make +me a lady," Nelly answered, laughing. "I don't think fine clothes can +make gentlefolks; no, nor farming one's own land, either, though that +sounds well enough. I am not in any hurry to leave you, father, and I'm +not one of those girls who are always thinking of getting married; but +come what may, depend upon it, I shall never marry Mr. Whitelaw." + +"Why not, pray?" the bailiff asked savagely. + +Nelly shook out the shirt she had been repairing for her father, and then +began to fold it, shaking her head resolutely at the same time. + +"Because I detest him," she said; "a mean, close, discontented creature, +who can see no pleasure in life except money-making. I hate the very +sight of his pale pinched face, father, and the sound of his hard shrill +voice. If I had to choose between the workhouse and marrying Stephen +Whitelaw, I'd choose the workhouse; yes, and scrub, and wash, and drudge, +and toil there all my days, rather than be mistress of Wyncomb Farm." + +"Well, upon my word," exclaimed the father, taking the pipe from his +mouth, and staring aghast at his daughter in a stupor of indignant +surprise, "you're a pretty article; you're a nice piece of goods for a +man to bring up and waste his substance upon--a piece of goods that will +turn round upon one and refuse a man who farms his own land. Mind, he +hasn't asked you yet, my lady; and never may, for aught I know." + +"I hope he never will, father," Nelly answered quietly, unsubdued by this +outburst of the bailiff's. + +"If he does, and you don't snap at such a chance, you need never look for +a sixpence from me; and you'd best make yourself scarce pretty soon into +the bargain. I'll have no such trumpery about my house." + +"Very well, father; I daresay I can get my living somewhere else, without +working much harder than I do here." + +This open opposition on the girl's part made William Carley only the more +obstinately bent upon that marriage, which seemed to him such a brilliant +alliance, which opened up to him the prospect of a comfortable home for +his old age, where he might repose after his labours, and live upon the +fat of the land without toil or care. He had a considerable contempt for +the owner of Wyncomb Farm, whom he thought a poor creature both as a man +and a farmer; and he fancied that if his daughter married Stephen +Whitelaw, he might become the actual master of that profitable estate. He +could twist such a fellow as Stephen round his fingers, he told himself, +when invested with the authority of a father-in-law. + +Mr. Whitelaw was a pale-faced little man of about five-and-forty years of +age; a man who had remained a bachelor to the surprise of his +neighbours, who fancied, perhaps, that the owner of a good house and a +comfortable income was in a manner bound by his obligation to society to +take to himself a partner with whom to share these advantages. He had +remained unmarried, giving no damsel ground for complaint by any delusive +attentions, and was supposed to have saved a good deal of money, and to +be about the richest man in those parts, with the exception of the landed +gentry. + +He was by no means an attractive person in this the prime of his manhood. +He had a narrow mean-looking face, with sharp features, and a pale sickly +complexion, which looked as if he had spent his life in some close London +office rather than in the free sweet air of his native fields. His hair +was of a reddish tint, very sleek and straight, and always combed with +extreme precision upon each side of his narrow forehead; and he had +scanty whiskers of the same unpopular hue, which he was in the habit of +smoothing with a meditative air upon his sallow cheeks with the knobby +fingers of his bony hand. He was of a rather nervous temperament, +inclined to silence, like his big burly friend, William Carley, and had a +deprecating doubtful way of expressing his opinion at all times. In spite +of this humility of manner, however, he cherished a secret pride in his +superior wealth, and was apt to remind his associates, upon occasion, +that he could buy up any one of them without feeling the investment. + +After having attained the discreet age of forty-five without being a +victim to the tender passion, Mr. Whitelaw might reasonably have supposed +himself exempt from the weakness so common to mankind. But such +self-gratulation, had he indulged in it, would have been premature; for +after having been a visitor at the Grange, and boon-companion of the +bailiff's for some ten years, it slowly dawned upon him that Ellen Carley +was a very pretty girl, and that he would have her for his wife, and no +other. Her brisk off-hand manner had a kind of charm for his slow +apathetic nature; her rosy brunette face, with its bright black eyes and +flashing teeth, seemed to him the perfection of beauty. But he was not an +impetuous lover. He took his time about the business, coming two or three +times a week to smoke his pipe with William Carley, and paying Nelly some +awkward blundering compliment now and then in his deliberate hesitating +way. He had supreme confidence in his own position and his money, and was +troubled by no doubt as to the ultimate success of his suit. It was true +that Nelly treated him in by no means an encouraging manner--was, indeed, +positively uncivil to him at times; but this he supposed to be mere +feminine coquetry; and it enhanced the attractions of the girl he +designed to make his wife. As to her refusing him when the time came for +his proposal, he could not for a moment imagine such a thing possible. It +was not in the nature of any woman to refuse to be mistress of Wyncomb, +and to drive her own whitechapel cart--a comfortable hooded vehicle of +the wagonette species, which was popular in those parts. + +So Stephen Whitelaw took his time, contented to behold the object of his +affection two or three evenings a week, and to gaze admiringly upon her +beauty as he smoked his pipe in the snug little oak-wainscoted parlour at +the Grange, while his passion grew day by day, until it did really become +a very absorbing feeling, second only to his love of money and Wyncomb +Farm. These dull sluggish natures are capable of deeper passions than the +world gives them credit for; and are as slow to abandon an idea as they +are to entertain it. + +It was Ellen Carley's delight to tell Marian of her trouble, and to +protest to this kind confidante again and again that no persuasion or +threats of her father's should ever induce her to marry Stephen +Whitelaw--which resolution Mrs. Holbrook fully approved. There was a +little gate opening from a broad green lane into one of the fields at the +back of the Grange; and here sometimes of a summer evening they used to +find Frank Randall, who had ridden his father's white pony all the way +from Malsham for the sake of smoking his evening cigar on that particular +spot. They used to find him seated there, smoking lazily, while the pony +cropped the grass in the lane close at hand. He was always eager to do +any little service for Mrs. Holbrook; to bring her books or anything else +she wanted from Malsham--anything that might make an excuse for his +coming again by appointment, and with the certainty of seeing Ellen +Carley. It was only natural that Marian should be inclined to protect +this simple love-affair, which offered her favourite a way of escape from +the odious marriage that her father pressed upon her. The girl might have +to endure poverty as Frank Randall's wife; but that seemed a small thing +in the eyes of Marian, compared with the horror of marrying that +pale-faced mean-looking little man, whom she had seen once or twice +sitting by the fire in the oak parlour, with his small light-grey eyes +fixed in a dull stare upon the bailiff's daughter. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +JACOB NOWELL'S WILL. + + +At his usual hour, upon the evening after his arrival in London, Gilbert +Fenton called at the silversmith's shop in Queen Anne's Court. He found +Jacob Nowell weaker than when he had seen him last, and with a strange +old look, as if extreme age had come upon him suddenly. He had been +compelled to call in a medical man, very much against his will; and this +gentleman had told him that his condition was a critical one, and that it +would be well for him to arrange his affairs quickly, and to hold himself +prepared for the worst. + +He seemed to be slightly agitated when Gilbert told him that his +granddaughter had been found. + +"Will she come to me, do you think?" he asked. + +"I have no doubt that she will do so, directly she hears how ill you have +been. She was very much pleased at the idea of seeing you, and only +waited for her husband's permission to come. But I don't suppose she will +wait for that when she knows of your illness. I shall write to her +immediately." + +"Do," Jacob Nowell said eagerly; "I want to see her before I die. You did +not meet the husband, then, I suppose?" + +"No; Mr. Holbrook was not there." + +He told Jacob Nowell all that it was possible for him to tell about his +interview with Marian; and the old man seemed warmly interested in the +subject. Death was very near him, and the savings of the long dreary +years during which his joyless life had been devoted to money-making must +soon pass into other hands. He wanted to know something of the person who +was to profit by his death; he wanted to be sure that when he was gone +some creature of his own flesh and blood would remember him kindly; not +for the sake of his money alone, but for something more than that. + +"I shall make my will to-morrow," he said, before Gilbert left him. "I +don't mind owning to you that I have something considerable to bequeath; +for I think I can trust you. And if I should die before my grandchild +comes to me, you will see that she has her rights, won't you? You will +take care that she is not cheated by her husband, or by any one else?" + +"I shall hold it a sacred charge to protect her interests, so far as it +is possible for me to do so." + +"That's well. I shall make you one of the executors to my will, if you've +no objection." + +"No. The executorship will bring me into collision with Mr. Holbrook, no +doubt; but I have resolved upon my line of conduct with regard to him, +and I am prepared for whatever may happen. My chief desire now is to be a +real friend to your granddaughter; for I believe she has need of +friends." + +The will was drawn up next day by an attorney of by no means spotless +reputation, who had often done business for Mr. Nowell in the past, and +who may have known a good deal about the origin of some of the silver +which found its way to the old silversmith's stores. He was a gentleman +frequently employed in the defence of those injured innocents who appear +at the bar of the Old Bailey; and was not at all particular as to the +merits of the cases he conducted. This gentleman embodied Mr. Nowell's +desires with reference to the disposal of his worldly goods in a very +simple and straightforward manner. All that Jacob Nowell had to leave was +left to his granddaughter, Marian Holbrook, for her own separate use and +maintenance, independent of any husband whatsoever. + +This was clear enough. It was only when there came the question, which a +lawyer puts with such deadly calmness, as to what was to be done with the +money in the event of Marian Holbrook's dying intestate, that any +perplexity arose. + +"Of course, if she has children, you'd like the money to go to them," +said Mr. Medler, the attorney; "that's clear enough, and had better be +set out in your will. But suppose she should have no children, you'd +scarcely like all you leave to go to her husband, who is quite a stranger +to you, and who may be a scoundrel for aught you know." + +"No; I certainly shouldn't much care about enriching this Holbrook." + +"Of course not; to say nothing of the danger there would be in giving him +so strong an interest in his wife's death. Not but what I daresay he'll +contrive to squander the greater part of the money during her lifetime. +Is it all in hard cash?" + +"No; there is some house-property at Islington, which pays a high +interest; and there are other freeholds." + +"Then we might tie those up, giving Mrs. Holbrook only the income. It is +essential to provide against possible villany or extravagance on the part +of the husband. Women are so weak and helpless in these matters. And in +the event of your granddaughter dying without children, wouldn't you +rather let the estate go to your son?" + +"To him!" exclaimed Jacob Nowell. "I have sworn that I would not leave +him sixpence." + +"That's a kind of oath which no man ever considers himself bound to +keep," said the lawyer in his most insinuating tone. "Remember, it's only +a remote contingency. The chances are that your granddaughter will have a +family to inherit this property, and that she will survive her father. +And then, if we give her power to make a will, of course it's pretty +certain that she'll leave everything to this husband of hers. But I don't +think we ought to do that, Mr. Nowell. I think it would be a far wiser +arrangement to give this young lady only a life interest in the real +estate. That makes the husband a loser by her death, instead of a +possible gainer to a large amount. And I consider that your son's name +has a right to come in here." + +"I cannot acknowledge that he has any such right. His extravagance almost +ruined me when he was a young man; and his ingratitude would have broken +my heart, if I had been weak enough to suffer myself to be crushed by +it." + +"Time works changes amongst the worst of us, Mr. Nowell, I daresay your +son has improved his habits in all these years and is heartily sorry for +the errors of his youth." + +"Have you seen him, Medler?" the old man asked quickly. + +"Seen your son lately? No; indeed, my dear sir, I had no notion that he +was in England." + +The fact is, that Percival Nowell had called upon Mr. Medler more than +once since his arrival in London; and had discussed with that gentleman +the chances of his father's having made, or not made, a will, and the +possibility of the old man's being so far reconciled to him as to make a +will in his favour. Percival Nowell had gone farther than this, and had +promised the attorney a handsome percentage upon anything that his father +might be induced to leave him by Mr. Medler's influence. + +The discussion lasted for a long time; Mr. Medler pushing on, stage by +stage, in the favour of his secret client, anxious to see whether Jacob +Nowell might not be persuaded to allow his son's name to take the place +of his granddaughter, whom he had never seen, and who was really no more +than a stranger to him, the attorney took care to remind him. But on this +point the old man was immovable. He would leave his money to Marian, and +to no one else. He had no desire that his son should ever profit by the +labours and deprivations of all those joyless years in which his fortune +had been scraped together. It was only as the choice of the lesser evil +that he would consent to Percival's inheriting the property from his +daughter, rather than it should fall into the hands of Mr. Holbrook. The +lawyer had hard work before he could bring his client to this point; but +he did at last succeed in doing so, and Percival Nowell's name was +written in the will. + +"I don't suppose Nowell will thank me much for what I've done, though +I've had difficulty enough in doing it," Mr. Medler said to himself, as +he walked slowly homewards after this prolonged conference in Queen +Anne's Court. "For of course the chances are ten to one against his +surviving his daughter. Still these young women sometimes go off the +hooks in an unexpected way, and he _may_ come into the reversion." + +There was only one satisfaction for the attorney, and that lay in the +fact that this long, laborious interview had been all in the way of +business, and could be charged for accordingly: "To attending at your own +house with relation to drawing up the rough draft of your will, and +consultation of two hours and a half thereupon;" and so on. The will was +to be executed next day; and Mr. Medler was to take his clerk with him to +Queen Anne's Court, to act as one of the witnesses. He had obtained one +other triumph in the course of the discussion, which was the insertion of +his own name as executor in place of Gilbert Fenton, against whom he +raised so many specious arguments as to shake the old man's faith in +Marian's jilted lover. + +Percival Nowell dropped in upon his father that night, and smoked his +cigar in the dingy little parlour, which was so crowded with divers kinds +of merchandise as to be scarcely habitable. The old man's son came here +almost every evening, and behaved altogether in a very dutiful way. Jacob +Nowell seemed to tolerate rather than to invite his visits, and the +adventurer tried in vain to get at the real feelings underlying that +emotionless manner. + +"I think I might work round the governor if I had time," this dutiful son +said to himself, as he reflected upon the aspect of affairs in Queen +Anne's Court; "but I fancy the old chap has taken his ticket for the next +world--booked through--per express train, and the chances are that he'll +keep his word and not leave me sixpence. Rather hard lines that, after my +taking the trouble to come over here and hunt him up." + +There was one fact that Mr. Nowell the younger seemed inclined to ignore +in the course of these reflections; and that was the fact that he had not +left America until he had completely used up that country as a field for +commercial enterprise, and had indeed made his name so far notorious in +connection with numerous shady transactions as to leave no course open to +him except a speedy departure. Since his coming to England he had lived +entirely on credit; and, beyond the fine clothes he wore and the contents +of his two portmanteaus, he possessed nothing in the world. It was quite +true that he had done very well in New York; but his well-being had been +secured at the cost of other people; and after having started some +half-dozen speculations, and living extravagantly upon the funds of his +victims, he was now as poor as he had been when he left Belgium for +America, the commission-agent of a house in the iron trade. In this +position he might have prospered in a moderate way, and might have +profited by the expensive education which had given him nothing but showy +agreeable manners, had he been capable of steadiness and industry. But of +these virtues he was utterly deficient, possessing instead a genius for +that kind of swindling which keeps just upon the safe side of felony. He +had lived pleasantly enough, for many years, by the exercise of this +agreeable talent; so pleasantly indeed that he had troubled himself very +little about his chances of inheriting his father's savings. It was only +when he had exhausted all expedients for making money on "the other side" +that he turned his thoughts in the direction of Queen Anne's Court, and +began to speculate upon the probability of Jacob Nowell's good graces +being worth the trouble of cultivation. The prospectuses which he had +shown his father were mere waste paper, the useless surplus stationery +remaining from a scheme that had failed to enlist the sympathies of a +Transatlantic public. But he fancied that his only chance with the old +man lay in an assumption of prosperity; so he carried matters with a high +hand throughout the business, and swaggered in the little dusky parlour +behind the shop just as he had swaggered on New-York Broadway or at +Delmonico's in the heyday of his commercial success. + +He called at Mr. Medler's office the day after Jacob Nowell's will had +been executed, having had no hint of the fact from his father. The +solicitor told him what had been done, and how the most strenuous efforts +on his part had only resulted in the insertion of Percival's name after +that of his daughter. + +Whatever indignation Mr. Nowell may have felt at the fact that his +daughter had been preferred before him, he contrived to keep hidden in +his own mind. The lawyer was surprised at the quiet gravity with which he +received the intelligence. He listened to Mr. Medler's statement of the +case with the calmest air of deliberation, seemed indeed to be thinking +so deeply that it was as if his thoughts had wandered away from the +subject in hand to some theme which allowed of more profound speculation. + +"And if she should die childless, I should get all the free-hold +property?" he said at last, waking up suddenly from that state of +abstraction, and turning his thoughtful face upon the lawyer. + +"Yes; all the real estate would be yours." + +"Have you any notion what the property is worth?" + +"Not an exact notion. Your father gave me a list of investments. +Altogether, I should fancy, the income will be something +handsome--between two and three thousand a year, perhaps. Strange, isn't +it, for a man with all that money to have lived such a life as your +father's?" + +"Strange indeed," Percival Nowell cried with a sneer. "And my daughter +will step into two or three thousand a year," he went on: "very pleasant +for her, and for her husband into the bargain. Of course I'm not going to +say that I wouldn't rather have had the income myself. You'd scarcely +swallow that, as a man of the world, you see, Medler. But the girl is my +only child, and though circumstances have divided us for the greater part +of our lives, blood is thicker than water; and in short, since there was +no getting the governor to do the right thing, and leave this money to +me, it's the next best thing that he should leave it to Marian." + +"To say nothing of the possibility of her dying without children, and +your coming into the property after all," said Mr. Medler, wondering a +little at Mr. Nowell's philosophical manner of looking at the question. + +"Sir," exclaimed Percival indignantly, "do you imagine me capable of +speculating upon the untimely death of my only child?" + +The lawyer shrugged his shoulders doubtfully. In the course of his varied +experience he had found men and women capable of very queer things when +their pecuniary interests were at stake; and he had not a most exalted +opinion of Mr. Nowell's virtue--he knew too many secrets connected with +his early career. + +"Remember, if ever by any strange chance you should come into this +property, you have me to thank for getting your name into the will, and +for giving your daughter only a life interest. She would have had every +penny left to her without reserve, if I hadn't fought for your interests +as hard as ever I fought for anything in the whole course of my +professional career." + +"You're a good fellow, Medler; and if ever fortune should favour me, +which hardly seems on the cards, I sha'n't forget what I promised you the +other day. I daresay you did the best you could for me, though it doesn't +amount to much when it's done." + +Long after Percival Nowell had left him, Mr. Medler sat idle at his desk +meditating upon his interview with that gentleman. + +"I can't half understand his coolness," he said to himself; "I expected +him to be as savage as a bear when he found that the old man had left him +nothing. I thought I should hear nothing but execrations and blasphemies; +for I think I know my gentleman pretty well of old, and that he's not a +person to take a disappointment of this kind very sweetly. There must be +something under that quiet manner of his. Perhaps he knows more about his +daughter than he cares to let out; knows that she is sickly, and that he +stands a good chance of surviving her." + +There was indeed a lurking desperation under Percival Nowell's airy +manner, of which the people amongst whom he lived had no suspicion. +Unless some sudden turn in the wheel of fortune should change the aspect +of affairs for him very soon, ruin, most complete and utter, was +inevitable. A man cannot go on very long without money; and in order to +pay his hotel-bill Mr. Nowell had been obliged to raise the funds from an +accommodating gentleman with whom he had done business in years gone by, +and who was very familiar with his own and his father's autograph. The +bill upon which this gentleman advanced the money in question bore the +name of Jacob Nowell, and was drawn at three months. Percival had +persuaded himself that before the three months were out his father would +be in his grave, and his executors would scarcely be in a position to +dispute the genuineness of the signature. In the meantime the money thus +obtained enabled him to float on. He paid his hotel-bill, and removed to +lodgings in one of the narrow streets to the north-east of Tottenham +Court Road; an obscure lodging enough, where he had a couple of +comfortable rooms on the first floor, and where his going out and coming +in attracted little notice. Here, as at the hotel, he chose to assume the +name of Norton instead of his legitimate cognomen. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +GILBERT ASKS A QUESTION. + + +Gilbert Fenton called at John Saltram's chambers within a day or two of +his return from Hampshire. He had a strange, almost feverish eagerness to +see his old friend again; a sense of having wronged him for that one +brief moment of thought in which the possibility of his guilt had flashed +across his mind; and with this feeling there was mingled a suspicion that +John Saltram had not acted quite fairly to him; that he had kept back +knowledge which must have come to him as an intimate ally of Sir David +Forster. + +He found Mr. Saltram at home in the familiar untidy room, with the old +chaos of books and papers about him. He looked tired and ill, and rose to +greet his visitor with a weary air, as if nothing in the world possessed +much interest for him now-a-days. + +"Why, John, you are as pallid as a ghost!" Gilbert exclaimed, grasping +the hand extended to him, and thinking of that one moment in which he had +fancied he was never to touch that hand again. "You have been at the old +work, I suppose--overdoing it, as usual!" + +"No, I have been working very little for these last few days. The truth +is, I have not been able to work. The divine afflatus wouldn't come down +upon me. There are times when a man's brain seems to be made of melted +butter. Mine has been like that for the last week or so." + +"I thought you were going back to your fishing village near Oxford." + +"No, I was not in spirits for that. I have dined two or three times in +Cavendish Square, and have been made much of, and have contrived to +forget my troubles for a few hours." + +"You talk of your troubles as if you were very heavily burdened; and +yet, for the life of me, I cannot see what you have to complain of," +Gilbert said wonderingly. + +"Of course not. That is always the case with one's friends--even the best +of them. It's only the man who wears the shoe that knows why it pinches +and galls him. But what have you been doing since I saw you last?" + +"I have been in Hampshire." + +"Indeed!" said John Saltram, looking him full in the face. "And what took +you into that quarter of the world?" + +"I thought you took more interest in my affairs than to have to ask that +question. I went to look for Marian Holbrook,--and I found her." + +"Poor old fellow!" Mr. Saltram said gently. "And was there any +satisfaction for you in the meeting?" + +"Yes, and no. There was a kind of mournful pleasure in seeing the dear +face once more." + +"She must have been surprised to see you." + +"She was, no doubt, surprised--unpleasantly, perhaps; but she received me +very kindly, and was perfectly frank upon every subject except her +husband. She would tell me nothing about him--neither his position in the +world, nor his profession, if he has one, as I suppose he has. She owned +he was not rich, and that is about all she said of him. Poor girl, I do +not think she is happy!" + +"What ground have you for such an idea?" + +"Her face, which told me a great deal more than her words. Her beauty is +very much faded since the summer evening when I first saw her in Lidford +Church. She seems to lead a lonely life in the old farm-house to which +her husband brought her immediately after their marriage--a life which +few women would care to lead. And now, John, I want to know how it is you +have kept back the truth from me in this matter; that you have treated me +with a reserve which I had no right to expect from a friend." + +"What have I kept from you" + +"Your knowledge of this man Holbrook." + +"What makes you suppose that I have any knowledge of him?" + +"The fact that he is a friend of Sir David Forster's. The house in which +I found Marian belongs to Sir David, and was lent by him to Mr. +Holbrook." + +"I do not know every friend of Forster's. He is a man who picks up his +acquaintance in the highways and byways, and drops them when he is tired +of them." + +"Will you tell me, on your honour, that you know nothing of this Mr. +Holbrook?" + +"Certainly." + +Gilbert Fenton gave a weary sigh, and then seated himself silently +opposite Mr. Saltram. He could not afford to doubt this friend of his. +The whole fabric of his life must have dropped to pieces if John Saltram +had played him false. His single venture as a lover having ended in +shipwreck, he seemed to have nothing left him but friendship; and that +kind of hero-worship which had made his friend always appear to him +something better than he really was, had grown stronger with him since +Marian's desertion. + +"O Jack," he said presently, "I could bear anything in this world better +than the notion that you could betray me--that you could break faith with +me for the sake of another man." + +"I am not likely to do that. There is no man upon this earth I care for +very much except you. I am not a man prone to friendship. In fact, I am a +selfish worthless fellow at the best, Gilbert, and hardly merit your +serious consideration. It would be wiser of you to think of me as I +really am, and to think very little of me." + +"You did not show yourself remarkably selfish when you nursed me through +that fever, at the hazard of your own life." + +"Pshaw! that was nothing. I could not have done less in the position in +which we two were. Such sacrifices as those count for very little. It is +when a man's own happiness is in the scale that the black spot shows +itself. I tell you, Gilbert, I am not worth your friendship. It would be +better for you to go your own way, and have nothing more to do with me." + +Mr. Saltram had said this kind of thing very often in the past, so that +the words had no especial significance to Gilbert. He only thought that +his friend was in one of those gloomy moods which were common to him at +times. + +"I could not do without your friendship, Jack," he said. "Remember how +barren the world is to me now. I have nothing left but that." + +"A poor substitute for better things, Gilbert. I am never likely to be +much good to you or to myself. By the way, have you seen anything lately +of that old man you told me about--Miss Nowell's grandfather?" + +"I saw him the other night. He is very ill--dying, I believe. I have +written to Marian to tell her that if she does not come very quickly to +see him, there is a chance of her not finding him alive." + +"And she will come of course." + +"I suppose so. She talked of waiting for her husband's consent; but she +will scarcely do that when she knows her grandfather's precarious state. +I shall go to Queen Anne's Court after I leave you, to ascertain if there +has been any letter from her to announce her coming. She is a complete +stranger in London, and may be embarrassed if she arrives at the station +alone. But I should imagine her husband would meet her there supposing +him to be in town." + +Mr. Fenton stayed with his friend about an hour after this; but John +Saltram was not in a communicative mood to-night, and the talk lagged +wearily. It was almost a relief to Gilbert when they had bidden each +other good-night, and he was out in the noisy streets once more, making +his way towards Queen Anne's Court. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +DRIFTING AWAY. + + +Gilbert Fenton found Jacob Nowell worse; so much worse, that he had been +obliged to take to his bed, and was lying in a dull shabby room upstairs, +faintly lighted by one tallow candle on the mantelpiece. Marian was there +when Gilbert went in. She had arrived a couple of hours before, and had +taken her place at once by the sick-bed. Her bonnet and shawl were thrown +carelessly upon a dilapidated couch by the window. Gilbert fancied she +looked like a ministering angel as she sat by the bed, her soft brown +hair falling loosely round the lovely face, her countenance almost divine +in its expression of tenderness and pity. + +"You came to town alone, Marian?" he asked in a low voice. + +The old man was in a doze at this moment, lying with his pinched withered +face turned towards his granddaughter, his feeble hand in hers. + +"Yes, I came alone. My husband had not come back, and I would not delay +any longer after receiving your letter. I am very glad I came. My poor +grandfather seemed so pleased to see me. He was wandering a little when I +first came in, but brightened wonderfully afterwards, and quite +understood who I was." + +The old man awoke presently. He was in a semi-delirious state, but seemed +to know his granddaughter, and clung to her, calling her by name with +senile fondness. His mind wandered back to the past, and he talked to his +son as if he had been in the room, reproaching him for his extravagance, +his college debts, which had been the ruin of his careful hard-working +father. At another moment he fancied that his wife was still alive, and +spoke to her, telling her that their grandchild had been christened after +her, and that she was to love the girl. And then the delirium left him +for a time, his mind grew clearer, and he talked quite rationally in his +low feeble way. + +"Is that Mr. Fenton?" he asked; "the room's so dark, I can't see very +well. She has come to me, you see. She's a good girl. Her eyes are like +my wife's. Yes, she's a good girl. It seems a hard thing that I should +have lived all these years without knowing her; lived alone, with no one +about me but those that were on the watch for my money, and eager to +cheat me at every turn. My life might have been happier if I'd had a +grandchild to keep me company, and I might have left this place and lived +like a gentleman for her sake. But that's all past and gone. You'll be +rich when I'm dead, Marian; yes, what most people would count rich. You +won't squander the money, will you, my dear, as your father would, if it +were left to him?" + +"No, grandfather. But tell me about my father. Is he still living?" the +girl asked eagerly. + +"Never mind him, child," answered Jacob Nowell. "He hasn't troubled +himself about you, and you can't do better than keep clear of him. No +good ever came of anything he did yet, and no good ever will come. Don't +you have anything to do with him, Marian. He'll try to get all your money +away from you, if you give him a chance--depend upon that." + +"He is living, then? O, my dear grandfather, do tell me something more +about him. Remember that whatever his errors may have been, he is my +father--the only relation I have in the world except yourself." + +"His whole life has been one long error," answered Jacob Nowell. "I tell +you, child, the less you know of him the better." + +He was not to be moved from this, and would say no more about his son, in +spite of Marian's earnest pleading. The doctor came in presently, for the +second time that evening, and forbade his patient's talking any more. He +told Gilbert, as he left the house, that the old man's life was now only +a question of so many days or so many hours. + +The old woman who did all the work of Jacob Nowell's establishment--a +dilapidated-looking widow, whom nobody in that quarter ever remembered in +any other condition than that of widowhood--had prepared a small bedroom +at the back of the house for Marian; a room in which Percival had slept +in his early boyhood, and where the daughter found faint traces of her +father's life. Mr. Macready as Othello, in a spangled tunic, with vest of +actual satin let into the picture, after the pre-Raphaelite or realistic +tendency commonly found in such juvenile works of art, hung over the +narrow painted mantelpiece. The fond mother had had this masterpiece +framed and glazed in the days when her son was still a little lad, +unspoiled by University life and those splendid aspirations which +afterwards made his home hateful to him. There were some tattered books +upon a shelf by the bed--school prizes, an old Virgil, a "Robinson +Crusoe" shorn of its binding. The boy's name was written in them in a +scrawling schoolboy hand; not once, but many times, after the fashion of +juvenile bibliopoles, with primitive rhymes in Latin and English setting +forth his proprietorship in the volumes. Caricatures were scribbled upon +the fly-leaves and margins of the books, the date whereof looked very old +to Marian, long before her own birth. + +It was not till very late that she consented to leave the old man's side +and go to the room which had been got ready for her, to lie down for an +hour. She would not hear of any longer rest though the humble widow was +quite pathetic in her entreaties that the dear young lady would try to +get a good night's sleep, and would leave the care of Mr. Nowell to her, +who knew his ways, poor dear gentleman, and would watch over him as +carefully as if he had been her own poor husband, who kept his bed for a +twelvemonth before he died, and had to be waited on hand and foot. Marian +told this woman that she did not want rest. She had come to town on +purpose to be with her grandfather, and would stay with him as long as he +needed her care. + +She did, however, consent to go to her room for a little in the early +November dawn, when Jacob Nowell had fallen into a profound sleep; but +when she did lie down, sleep would not come to her. She could not help +listening to every sound in the opposite room--the falling of a cinder, +the stealthy footfall of the watcher moving cautiously about now and +then; listening still more intently when all was silent, expecting every +moment to hear herself summoned suddenly. The sick-room and the dark +shadow of coming death brought back the thought of that bitter time when +her uncle was lying unconscious and speechless in the pretty room at +Lidford, with the wintry light shining coldly upon his stony face; while +she sat by his pillow, watching him in hopeless silent agony, waiting for +that dread change which they had told her was the only change that could +come to him on earth. The scene re-acted itself in her mind to-night, +with all the old anguish. She shut it out at last with a great effort, +and began to think of what her grandfather had said to her. + +She was to be rich. She who had been a dependant upon others all her life +was to know the security and liberty that must needs go along with +wealth. She was glad of this, much more for her husband's sake than her +own. She knew that the cares which had clouded their life of late, which +had made him seem to love her less than he had loved her at first, had +their chief origin in want of money. What happiness it would be for her +to lift this burden from his life, to give him peace and security for the +years to come! Her thoughts wandered away into the bright region of +day-dreams after this, and she fancied what their lives might be without +that dull sordid trouble of pecuniary embarrassments. She fancied her +husband, with all the fetters removed that had hampered his footsteps +hitherto, winning a name and a place in the world. It is so natural for a +romantic inexperienced girl to believe that the man she loves was born to +achieve greatness; and that if he misses distinction, it is from the +perversity of his surroundings or from his own carelessness, never from +the fact of his being only a very small creature after all. + +It was broad daylight when Marian rose after an hour of sleeplessness and +thought, and refreshed herself with the contents of the cracked water-jug +upon the rickety little wash-stand. The old man was still asleep when she +went back to his room; but his breathing was more troubled than it had +been the night before, and the widow, who was experienced in sickness and +death, told Marian that he would not last very long. The shopman, Luke +Tulliver, had come upstairs to see his master, and was hovering over the +bed with a ghoulish aspect. This young man looked very sharply at Marian +as she came into the room--seemed indeed hardly able to take his eyes +from her face--and there was not much favour in his look. He knew who she +was, and had been told how kindly the old man had taken to her in those +last moments of his life; and he hated her with all his heart and soul, +having devoted all the force of his mind for the last ten years to the +cultivation of his employer's good graces, hoping that Mr. Nowell, having +no one else to whom to leave his money, would end by leaving it all to +him. And here was a granddaughter, sprung from goodness knows where, to +cheat him out of all his chances. He had always suspected Gilbert Fenton +of being a dangerous sort of person, and it was no doubt he who had +brought about this introduction, to the annihilation of Mr. Tulliver's +hopes. This young man took his place in a vacant chair by the fire, as if +determined to stop; while Marian seated herself quietly by the sleeper's +pillow, thinking only of that one occupant of the room, and supposing +that Mr. Tulliver's presence was a mark of fidelity. + +The old man woke with a start presently, and looked about him in a slow +bewildered way for some moments. + +"Who's that?" he asked presently, pointing to the figure by the hearth. + +"It's only Mr. Tulliver, sir," the widow answered. "He's so anxious about +you, poor young man." + +"I don't want him," said Jacob Nowell impatiently. "I don't want his +anxiety; I want to be alone with my granddaughter." + +"Don't send me away, sir," Mr. Tulliver pleaded in a piteous tone. "I +don't deserve to be sent away like a stranger, after serving you +faithfully for the last ten years----" + +"And being well paid for your services," gasped the old man. "I tell you +I don't want you. Go downstairs and mind the shop." + +"It's not open yet, sir," remonstrated Mr. Tulliver. + +"Then it ought to be. I'll have no idling and shirking because I'm ill. +Go down and take down the shutters directly. Let the business go on just +as if I was there to watch it." + +"I'm going, sir," whimpered the young man; "but it does seem rather a +poor return after having served you as I have, and loved you as if you'd +been my own father." + +"Very much men love their fathers now-a-days! I didn't ask you to love +me, did I? or hire you for that, or pay you for it? Pshaw, man, I know +you. You wanted my money like the rest of them, and I didn't mind your +thinking there was a chance of your getting it. I've rather encouraged +the notion at odd times. It made you a better servant, and kept you +honest. But now that I'm dying, I can afford to tell the truth. This +young lady will have all my money, every sixpence of it, except +five-and-twenty pounds to Mrs. Mitchin yonder. And now you can go. You'd +have got something perhaps in a small way, if you'd been less of a sneak +and a listener; but you've played your cards a trifle too well." + +The old man had raised himself up in his bed, and rallied considerably +while he made this speech. He seemed to take a malicious pleasure in his +shopman's disappointment. But when Luke Tulliver had slowly withdrawn +from the room, with a last venomous look at Marian, Jacob Nowell sank +back upon his pillow exhausted by his unwonted animation. + +"You don't know what a deep schemer that young man has been, Marian," he +said, "and how I have laughed in my sleeve at his manoeuvres." + +The dull November day dragged itself slowly through, Marian never leaving +her post by the sick-bed. Jacob Nowell spent those slow hours in fitful +sleep and frequent intervals of wakefulness, in which he would talk to +Marian, however she might urge him to remember the doctor's injunctions +that he should be kept perfectly quiet. It seemed indeed to matter very +little whether he obeyed the doctor or not, since the end was inevitable. + +One of the curates of the parish came in the course of the day, and read +and prayed beside the old man's bed, Jacob Nowell joining in the prayers +in a half-mechanical way. For many years of his life he had neglected all +religious duties. It was years since he had been inside a church; perhaps +he had not been once since the death of his wife, who had persuaded him +to go with her sometimes to the evening service, when he had generally +scandalised her by falling asleep during the delivery of the sermon. All +that the curate told him now about the necessity that he should make his +peace with his God, and prepare himself for a world to come, had a +far-off sound to him. He thought more about the silver downstairs, and +what it was likely to realize in the auction-room. Even in this supreme +hour his conscience did not trouble him much about the doubtful modes by +which some of the plate he had dealt in had reached his hands. If he had +not bought the things, some other dealer would have bought them. That is +the easy-going way in which he would have argued the question, had he +been called upon to argue it at all. + +Mr. Fenton came in the evening to see the old man, and stood for a little +time by the bedside watching him as he slept, and talking in a low voice +to Marian. He asked her how long she was going to remain in Queen Anne's +Court, and found her ideas very vague upon that subject. + +"If the end is so near as the doctor says, it would be cruel to leave my +grandfather till all is over," she said. + +"I wonder that your husband has not come to you, if he is in London," +Gilbert remarked to her presently. He found himself very often wondering +about her husband's proceedings, in no indulgent mood. + +"He may not be in London," she answered, seeming a little vexed by the +observation. "I am quite sure that he will do whatever is best." + +"But if he should not come to you, and if your grandfather should die +while you are alone here, I trust you will send for me and let me give +you any help you may require. You can scarcely stay in this house after +the poor old man's death." + +"I shall go back to Hampshire immediately; if I am not wanted here for +anything--to make arrangements for the funeral. O, how hard it seems to +speak of that while he is still living!" + +"You need give yourself no trouble on that account. I will see to all +that, if there is no more proper person to do so." + +"You are very good. I am anxious to go back to the Grange as quickly as +possible." + +Gilbert left soon after this. He felt that his presence was of no use in +the sick-room, and that he had no right to intrude upon Marian at such a +time. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +FATHER AND DAUGHTER. + + +Almost immediately after Gilbert's departure, another visitor appeared in +the dimly lighted shop, where Luke Tulliver was poring over a newspaper +at one end of the counter under a solitary gas-burner. + +The new-comer was Percival Nowell, who had not been to the house since +his daughter's arrival. + +"Well," said this gentleman, in his usual off-hand manner, "how's the +governor?" + +"Very ill; going fast, the doctor says." + +"Eh? As bad as that? Then there's been a change since I was here last." + +"Yes; Mr. Nowell was taken much worse yesterday morning. He had a kind of +fit, I fancy, and couldn't get his speech for some time afterwards. But +he got over that, and has talked well enough since then," Mr. Tulliver +concluded ruefully, remembering his master's candid remarks that morning. + +"I'll step upstairs and have a look at the old gentleman," said Percival. + +"There's a young lady with him," Mr. Tulliver remarked, in a somewhat +mysterious tone. + +"A young lady!" the other cried. "What young lady?" + +"His granddaughter." + +"Indeed!" + +"Yes; she came up from the country yesterday evening, and she's been +sitting with him ever since. He seems to have taken to her very much. +You'd think she'd been about him all her life; and she's to have all his +money, he says. I wonder what his only son will say to that," added Mr. +Tulliver, looking very curiously at Percival Nowell, "supposing him to be +alive? Rather hard upon him, isn't it?" + +"Uncommonly," the other answered coolly. He saw that the shopman +suspected his identity, though he had carefully avoided all reference to +the relationship between himself and the old man in Luke Tulliver's +presence, and had begged his father to say nothing about him. + +"I should like to see this young lady before I go up to Mr. Nowell's +room," he said presently. "Will you step upstairs and ask her to come +down to me?" + +"I can go if you wish, but I don't suppose she'll leave the old +gentleman." + +"Never mind what you suppose. Tell her that I wish to say a few words to +her upon particular business." + +Luke Tulliver departed upon his errand, while Percival Nowell went into +the parlour, and seated himself before the dull neglected fire in the +lumbering old arm-chair in which his father had sat through the long +lonely evenings for so many years. Mr. Nowell the younger was not +disturbed by any sentimental reflections upon this subject, however; he +was thinking of his father's will, and the wrong which was inflicted upon +him thereby. + +"To be cheated out of every sixpence by my own flesh and blood!" he +muttered to himself. "That seems too much for any man to bear." + +The door was opened by a gentle hand presently, and Marian came into the +room. Percival Nowell rose from his seat hastily and stood facing her, +surprised by her beauty and an indefinable likeness which she bore to her +mother--a likeness which brought his dead wife's face back to his mind +with a sudden pang. He had loved her after his own fashion once upon a +time, and had grown weary of her and neglected her after the death of +that short-lived selfish passion; but something, some faint touch of the +old feeling, stirred his heart as he looked at his daughter to-night. The +emotion was as brief as the breath of a passing wind. In the next moment +he was thinking of his father's money, and how this girl had emerged from +obscurity to rob him of it. + +"You wish to speak to me on business, I am told," she said, in her clear +low voice, wondering at the stranger's silence and deliberate scrutiny of +her face. + +"Yes, I have to speak to you on very serious business, Marian," he +answered gravely. + +"You are an utter stranger to me, and yet call me by my Christian name." + +"I am not an utter stranger to you. Look at me, Mrs. Holbrook. Have you +never seen my face before?" + +"Never." + +"Are you quite sure of that? Look a little longer before you answer +again." + +"Yes!" she cried suddenly, after a long pause. "You are my father!" + +There had come back upon her, in a rapid flash of memory, the picture of +a room in Brussels--a room lighted dimly by two wax-candles on the +chimney-piece, where there was a tall dark man who snatched her up in his +arms and kissed her before he went out. She remembered caring very little +for his kisses, and having a childish consciousness of the fact that it +was he who made her mamma cry so often in the quiet lonely evenings, when +the mother and child were together in that desolate continental lodging. + +Yet at this moment she was scarcely disposed to think much about her +father's ill-conduct. She considered only that he was her father, and +that they had found each other after long years of separation. She +stretched out her arms, and would have fallen upon his breast; but +something in his manner repelled her, something downcast and nervous, +which had a chilling effect upon her, and gave her time to remember how +little cause she had to love him. He did not seem aware of the +affectionate impulse which had moved her towards him at first. He gave +her his hand presently. It was deadly cold, and lay loosely in her own. + +"I was asking my grandfather about you this morning," she said, wondering +at his strange manner, "but he would not tell me where you were." + +"Indeed! I am surprised to find you felt so much interest in me; I'm +aware that I don't deserve as much. Yet I could plead plenty of excuses +for my life, if I cared to trouble you with them; but I don't. It would +be a long story; and when it was told, you might not believe it. Most men +are, more or less, the slave of circumstances. I have suffered that kind +of bondage all my life. I have known, too, that you were in good +hands--better off in every way than you could have been in my care--or I +should have acted differently in relation to you." + +"There is no occasion to speak of the past," Marian replied gravely. +"Providence was very good to me; but I know my poor mother's last days +were full of sorrow. I cannot tell how far it might have been in your +power to prevent that. It is not my place to blame, or even to question +your conduct." + +"You are an uncommonly dutiful daughter," Mr. Nowell exclaimed with +rather a bitter laugh; "I thought that you would have repudiated me +altogether perhaps; would have taken your tone from my father, who has +grown pig-headed with old age, and cannot forgive me for having had the +aspirations of a gentleman." + +"It is a pity there should not be union between my grandfather and you at +such a moment as this," Marian said. + +"O, we are civil enough to each other. I bear no malice against the old +man, though many sons in my position might consider themselves hardly +used. And now I may as well go upstairs and pay my respects. Why is not +your husband with you, by the bye?" + +"He is not wanted here; and I do not even know that he is in London." + +"Humph! He seems rather a mysterious sort of person, this husband of +yours." + +Marian took no notice of this remark, and the father and daughter went +upstairs to the sick-room together. The old silversmith received his son +with obvious coolness, and was evidently displeased at seeing Marian and +her father together. + +Percival Nowell, however, on his part, appeared to be in an unusually +affectionate and dutiful mood this evening. He held his place by the +bedside resolutely, and insisted on sharing Marian's watch that night. So +all through the long night those two sat together, while the old man +passed from uneasy slumber to more uneasy wakefulness, and back to +troubled sleep again, his breathing growing heavier and more laboured +with every hour. They were very quiet, and could have found but little to +say to each other, had there been no reason for their silence. That first +brief impulsive feeling of affection past, Marian could only think of +this newly-found father as the man who had made her mother's life lonely +and wretched while he pursued his own selfish pleasures; and who had +allowed her to grow to womanhood without having been the object of one +thought or care upon his part. She could not forget these things, as she +sat opposite to him in the awful silence of the sick-room, stealing a +glance at his face now and then, and wondering at the strange turn of +fortune which had brought them thus together. + +It was not a pleasant face by any means--not a countenance to inspire +love or confidence. Handsome still, but with a faded look, like a face +that had grown pallid and wrinkled in the feverish atmosphere of vicious +haunts--under the flaring gas that glares down upon the green cloth of a +rouge-et-noir table, in the tumult of crowded race-courses, the press and +confusion of the betting-ring--it was the face of a battered _roue_, who +had lived his life, and outlived the smiles of fortune; the face of a man +to whom honest thoughts and hopes had long been unknown. There was a +disappointed peevish look about the drooping corners of the mouth, an +angry glitter in the eyes. + +He did not look at his daughter very often as they sat together through +that weary vigil, but kept his eyes for the greater part of the time upon +the wasted face on the pillow, which looked like a parchment mask in the +dim light. He seemed to be deep in thought, and several times in the +night Marian heard him breathe an impatient sigh, as if his thoughts were +not pleasant to him. More than once he rose from his chair and paced the +room softly for a little time, as if the restlessness of his mind had +made that forced quiet unendurable. The early morning light came at last, +faint and wan and gray, across a forest of blackened chimney-pots, and by +that light the watchers could see that Jacob Nowell had changed for the +worse. + +He lingered till late that afternoon. It was growing dusk when he died, +making a very peaceful end of life at the last, with his head resting +upon Marian's shoulder, and his cold hand clasped in hers. His son stood +by the bed, looking down upon him at that final moment with a fixed +inscrutable face. Gilbert Fenton called that evening, and heard of the +old man's death from Luke Tulliver. He heard also that Mrs. Holbrook +intended to sleep in Queen Anne's Court that night, and did not therefore +intrude upon her, relying upon being able to see her next morning. He +left his card, with a few words of condolence written upon it in pencil. + +Mr. Nowell was with his daughter in the little parlour behind the shop +when Luke Tulliver gave her this card. He asked who the visitor was. + +"Mr. Fenton, a gentleman I knew at Lidford in my dear uncle's lifetime. +My grandfather liked him very much." + +"Mr. Fenton! Yes, my father told me all about him. You were engaged to +him, and jilted him for this man you have married--very foolishly, as it +seems to me; for he could certainly have given you a better position than +that which you appear to occupy now." + +"I chose for my own happiness," Marian answered quietly, "and I have only +one subject for regret; that is, that I was compelled to act with +ingratitude towards a good man. But Mr. Fenton has forgiven me; has +promised to be my friend, if ever I should have need of his friendship. +He has very kindly offered to take all trouble off my hands with respect +to--to the arrangements for the funeral." + +"He is remarkably obliging," said Percival Nowell with a sneer; "but as +the only son of the deceased, I consider myself the proper person to +perform that final duty." + +"I do not wish to interfere with your doing so. Of course I did not know +how near at hand you were when Mr. Fenton made that offer, or I should +have told him." + +"You mean to remain until the funeral is over, I suppose?" + +"I think not; I want to go back to Hampshire as soon as possible--by an +early train to-morrow morning, if I can. I do not see that there is any +reason for my remaining. I could not prove my respect or affection for my +grandfather any more by staying." + +"Certainly not," her father answered promptly. "I think you will be quite +right in getting away from this dingy hole as quick as you can." + +"It is not for that. But I have promised to return directly I was free to +do so." + +"And you go back to Hampshire? To what part of Hampshire?" + +Marian told him the name of the place where she was living. He wrote the +address in his pocket-book, and was especially careful that it should be +correctly written, as to the name of the nearest town, and in all other +particulars. + +"I may have to write to you, or to come to you, perhaps," he said. "It's +as well to be prepared for the contingency." + +After this Mr. Nowell sent out for a "Railway Guide," in order to give +his daughter all necessary information about the trains for Malsham. +There was a tolerably fast train that left Waterloo at seven in the +morning, and Marian decided upon going by that. She had to spend the +evening alone with her father while Mrs. Mitchin kept watch in the +dismal chamber upstairs. Mr. Nowell asked his daughter's permission to +light his cigar, and having obtained it, sat smoking moodily all the +evening, staring into the fire, and very rarely addressing his companion, +who had taken a Bible out of her travelling-bag, and was reading those +solemn, chapters which best harmonised with her feelings at this moment; +thinking as she read of the time when her guardian and benefactor lay in +his last calm rest, and she had vainly tried to find comfort in the same +words, and had found herself staring blankly at the sacred page, with +eyes that were dry and burning, and to which there came no merciful +relief from tears. + +Her father glanced at her askance now and then from his arm-chair by the +fire, as she sat by the little round table looking down at her book, the +light of the candles shining full upon her pensive face. He looked at her +with no friendliness in his eyes, but with that angry sparkle which had +grown almost habitual to them of late, since the world had gone ill with +him. After one of those brief stolen looks, a strange smile crept over +his face. He was thinking of a little speech of Shakespeare's Richard +about his nephew, the youthful Prince of Wales: + + So young, so wise, they say do ne'er live long. + +"How pious she is!" he said to himself with a diabolical sneer. "Did the +half-pay Captain teach her that, I wonder? or does church-going, and +psalm-singing, and Bible-reading come natural to all women? I know my +mother was good at it, and my wife too. She used to fly to her Bible as a +man flies to dram-drinking, or his pipe, when things go wrong." + +He got tired of his cigar at last, and went out into the shop, where he +began to question Mr. Tulliver as to the extent and value of the +stock-in-trade, and upon other details of the business; to all of which +inquiries the shopman replied in a suspicious and grudging spirit, giving +his questioner the smallest possible amount of information. + +"You're an uncommonly cautious young man," Mr. Nowell exclaimed at last. +"You'll never stand in your own light by being too anxious to oblige +other people. I daresay, though, you could speak fast enough, if it was +made worth your while." + +"I don't see what is to make it worth my while," Luke Tulliver answered +coolly. "My duty is to my dead master, and those that are to come after +him. I don't want strangers coming sniffing and prying into the stock. +Mr. Nowell's books were kept so that I couldn't cheat him out of a +sixpence, or the value of a sixpence; and I mean to hand 'em over to the +lawyer in a manner that will do me credit. My master has not been a +generous master to me, considering how I've served him, and I've got +nothing but my character to look to; but that I have got, and I don't +want it tampered with." + +"Who is going to tamper with it?" said Mr. Nowell. "So you'll hand over +the stock-books to the lawyer, will you, without a leaf missing, or an +erasure, or an item marked off as sold that never was sold, or any little +dodges of that kind, eh, Mr. Tulliver?" + +"Of course," answered the shopman, looking defiantly at the questioner, +who was leaning across the counter with folded arms, staring at Luke +Tulliver with an ironical grin upon his countenance. + +"Then you are a very remarkable man. I should have thought such a chance +as a death as unexpected as my--as old Mr. Nowell's would have made the +fortune of a confidential clerk like you." + +"I'm not a thief," answered Mr. Tulliver with an air of virtuous +indignation; "and you can't know much about old Jacob Nowell if you think +that anybody could cheat him, living or dead. There's not an entry in the +book that isn't signed with his initials, in his own hand. When a thing +was sold and crossed off the book, he put his initials to the entry of +the sale. He went through the books every night till a week ago, and he'd +as soon have cut his own head off as omit to do it, so long as he could +see the figures in the book or hold his pen." + +Mr. Medler the lawyer came in while Percival Nowell and the shopman were +talking. He had been away from his office upon business that evening, and +had only just received the tidings of the silversmith's death. + +Luke Tulliver handed him the books and keys of the cases in which the +tarnished plate was exhibited. He went into all the details of the +business carefully, setting his seal upon books and papers, and doing all +that he could to make matters secure without hindrance to the carrying on +of the trade. + +He was surprised to hear that Mrs. Holbrook was in the house, and +proposed paying his respects to her that evening; but this Mr. Nowell +prevented. She was tired and out of spirits, he told the attorney; it +would be better for him to see her next day. It was convenient to Mr. +Nowell to forget Marian's intention of returning to Hampshire by an early +train on the following morning at this juncture. + +When he went back to the parlour by-and-by, after Mr. Medler had finished +his business in the shop, and was trudging briskly towards his own +residence, Mr. Nowell told his daughter that the lawyer had been there, +but did not inform her of his desire to see her. + +"I suppose you know all about your grandfather's will?" he said +by-and-by, when he had half-finished another cigar. + +Marian had put away her book by this time, and was looking dreamily at +the fire, thinking of her husband, who need never know those weary sordid +cares about money again, now that she was to be rich. + +Her father's question startled her out of that agreeable day-dream. + +"Yes," she said; "my grandfather told me that he had left all his money +to me. I know that must seem unjust to you, papa; but I hope my husband +will allow me to do something towards repairing that injustice in some +measure." + +"In some measure!" Mr. Nowell thought savagely. "That means a pittance +that would serve to keep life in a pauper, I suppose; and that is to be +contingent upon her husband's permission." He made no audible reply to +his daughter's speech, and seemed, indeed, so much absorbed in his own +thoughts, that Marian doubted if he had heard her; and so the rest of the +long evening wore itself out in dismal silence, whilst stealthy footsteps +sounded now and then upon the stairs. Later Mr. Nowell was summoned to a +conference with some mysterious person in the shop, whom Marian supposed +to be the undertaker; and returning from this interview with a gloomy +face, he resumed his seat by the fire. + +It seemed very strange to Marian that they two, father and daughter, +should be together thus, so near and yet so wide apart; united by the +closest tie of kindred, brought together thus after years of severance, +yet with no bond of sympathy between them; no evidence of remorseful +tenderness on the side of him whose life had been one long neglect of a +father's duty. + +"How could I expect that he would care for me in the smallest degree, +after his desertion of my mother?" Marian thought to herself, as she +meditated upon her father's coldness, which at first had seemed so +strange to her. She had fancied that, what ever his sins in the past had +been, his heart would have melted at the sight of his only child. She had +thought of him and dreamed of him so often in her girlhood, elevating him +in her romantic fancy into something much better and brighter than he +really was--a sinner at best, it is true, but a sinner of a lofty type, a +noble nature gone astray. She had imagined a reunion with him in the days +to come, when it should be her delight to minister to his declining +years--to be the consolation of his repentant soul. And now she had found +him she knew these things could never be--that there was not one feeling +of sympathy possible between her and that broken-down, dissipated-looking +man of the world. + +The dismal evening came to an end at last, and Marian bade her father +good-night, and went upstairs to the little room where the traces of his +boyhood had interested her so keenly when first she looked upon them. +Mr. Nowell promised to come to Queen Anne's Court at a quarter past six +next morning, to escort his daughter to the station, an act of parental +solicitude she had not expected from him. He took his departure +immediately afterwards, being let out of the shop-door by Luke Tulliver, +who was in a very cantankerous humour, and took no pains to disguise the +state of his feelings. The lawyer Mr. Medler had pried into everything, +the shopman told Percival Nowell; had declared himself empowered to do +this, as the legal adviser of the deceased; and had seemed as suspicious +as if he, Luke Tulliver, meant to rob his dead master. Mr. Tulliver's +sensitive nature had been outraged by such a line of conduct. + +"And what has he done with the books?" Mr. Nowell asked. + +"They're all in the desk yonder, and that fellow Medler has taken away +the keys." + +"Sharp practice," said Mr. Nowell; "but to a man with your purity of +intention it can't matter what precautions are taken to insure the safety +of the property." + +"Of course it don't matter," the other answered peevishly; "but I like to +be treated as a gentleman." + +"Humph! And you expect to retain your place here, I suppose, if the +business is carried on?" + +"It's too good a business to be let drop," replied Mr. Tulliver; "but I +shouldn't think that young lady upstairs would be much of a hand at +trade. I wouldn't mind offering a fair price for the business,--I've got +a tidy little bit of money put away, though my salary has been small +enough, goodness knows; but I've lived with the old gentleman, and never +wasted a penny upon pleasure; none of your music-halls, or +dancing-saloons, or anything of that kind, for me,--or I wouldn't mind +paying an annual sum out of the profits of the trade for a reasonable +term. If you've any influence with the young lady, perhaps you could put +it to her, and get her to look at things in that light," Mr. Tulliver +added, becoming quite obsequious as it dawned upon him that this +interloping stranger might be able to do him a service. + +"I'll do my best for you, Tulliver," Mr. Nowell replied, in a patronising +tone. "I daresay the young lady will be quite willing to entertain any +reasonable proposition you may make." + +Faithful to his promise Mr. Nowell appeared at a quarter past six next +morning, at which hour he found his daughter quite ready for her journey. +She was very glad to get away from that dreary house, made a hundredfold +more dismal by the sense of what lay in the closed chamber, where the +candles were still burning in the yellow fog of the November morning, and +to which Marian had gone with hushed footsteps to kneel for the last time +beside the old man who was so near her by the ties of relationship, and +whom she had known for so brief a space. She was glad to leave that dingy +quarter of the town, which to one who had never lived in an English city +seemed unspeakably close and wretched; still more glad to think that she +was going back to the quiet home, where her husband would most likely +join her very soon. She might find him there when she arrived, perhaps; +for he knew nothing of this journey to London, or could only hear of it +at the Grange, where she had left a letter for him, enclosing that brief +note of Gilbert Fenton's which had informed her of her grandfather's +fatal illness. There were special reasons why she should not ask him to +meet her in Queen Anne's Court, however long she might have been +compelled to stay there. + +Mr. Nowell was much more affectionate in his manner to his daughter this +morning, as they sat in the cab driving to the station, and walked side +by side upon the platform in the quarter of an hour's interval before the +departure of the train. He questioned her closely upon her life in the +present, and her plans for the future, expressing himself in a remarkably +generous manner upon the subject of her grandfather's will, and declaring +himself very well pleased that his own involuntary neglect was to be so +amply atoned for by the old man's liberality. He found his daughter +completely ignorant of the world, as gentle and confiding as he had found +her mother in the past. He sounded the depths of her innocent mind during +that brief promenade; and when the train bore her away at last, and the +platform was clear, he remained for some time walking up and down in +profound meditation, scarcely knowing where he was. He looked round him +in an absent way by-and-by, and then hurriedly left the station, and +drove straight to Mr. Medler's office, which was upon the ground floor of +a gloomy old house in one of the dingier streets in the Soho district, +and in the upper chambers whereof the attorney's wife and numerous +offspring had their abode. He came down to his client from his +unpretending breakfast-table in a faded dressing-gown, with smears of egg +and greasy traces of buttered toast about the region of his mouth, and +seemed not particularly pleased to see Mr. Nowell. But the conference +that followed was a long one; and it is to be presumed that it involved +some chance of future profit, since the lawyer forgot to return to his +unfinished breakfast, much to the vexation of Mrs. Medler, a faded lady +with everything about her in the extremest stage of limpness, who washed +the breakfast-things with her own fair hands, in consideration of the +multitudinous duties to be performed by that hapless solitary damsel who +in such modest households is usually denominated "the girl." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +AT LIDFORD AGAIN. + + +Gilbert Fenton called in Queen Anne's Court within a few hours of +Marian's departure, and was not a little disappointed when he was told +that she had gone back to Hampshire. He had relied upon seeing her +again--not once only, but several times--before her return. He had +promised Jacob Nowell that he would watch over and protect her interests; +and it was a sincere unqualified wish to do this that influenced him now. +More than a dear friend, the sweetest and dearest of all womankind, she +could never be to him. He accepted the position with resignation. The +first sharp bitterness of her loss was over. That he should ever cease to +love her was impossible; but it seemed to him that a chivalrous +friendship for her, a disinterested brotherly affection, was in no manner +incompatible with that hapless silent love. No word of his, in all their +intercourse to come, should ever remind her of that hidden devotion; no +shadow of the past should ever cloud the calm brightness of the present. +It was a romantic fancy, perhaps, for a man of business, whose days were +spent in the very press and tumult of commercial life; but it had lifted +Gilbert Fenton out of that slough of despond into which he had fallen +when Marian seemed utterly lost to him--vanished altogether out of his +existence. + +He had a sense of bitter disappointment, therefore, when he found that +she had gone, leaving neither letter nor message for him. How little +value his friendship must needs possess for her, when she could abandon +him thus without a word! He had felt sure that she would consult him upon +her affairs; but no, she had her husband to whom to appeal, and had no +need of any other counsellor. + +"I was a fool to think that I could ever be anything to her, even a +friend," he said to himself bitterly; "women are incapable of friendship. +It is all or nothing with them; a blind self-abnegation or the coldest +indifference. Devotion cannot touch them, unless the man who gives it +happen to be that one man out of a thousand who has the power to bewitch +their senses. Truth and affection, of themselves, have no value with +them. How many people spoke to me of this Holbrook as an unattractive +man; and yet he won my love away from me, and holds her with an influence +so complete, that my friendship seems worthless to her. She cannot give +me a word or a thought." + +Mr. Fenton made some inquiries about the funeral arrangements and found +that these had been duly attended to by the lawyer, and a gentleman who +had been with Jacob Nowell a good deal of late, who seemed to be some +relation to the old man, Mr. Tulliver said, and took a great deal upon +himself. This being done, there was, of course, no occasion for Gilbert +to interfere, and he was glad to be released from all responsibility. +Having ascertained this, he asked for the address of the late Mr. +Nowell's lawyer; and being told it, went at once to Mr. Medler's office. +He did not consider himself absolved from the promise he had made the old +man by Marian's indifference, and was none the less anxious to watch over +her interests because she seemed to set so little value on his +friendship. + +He told Mr. Medler who he was, and the promise he had given to Jacob +Nowell, abstaining, of course, from any reference to the position he had +once occupied towards Marian. He described himself as her friend only--a +friend of long standing, who had been intimate with her adopted guardian. + +"I know how ignorant Mrs. Holbrook is of the world and of all business +matters," he went on to say, "and I am naturally anxious that her +interests should be protected." + +"I should think there was very little doubt that her husband will see +after those," the lawyer answered, with something of a sneer; "husbands +are generally supposed to do that, especially where there is money at +stake." + +"I do not know Mr. Holbrook; and he has kept himself in the background so +persistently up to this point, and has been altogether so underhanded in +his proceedings, that I have by no means a good opinion of him. Mr. +Nowell told me that he intended to leave his money to his granddaughter +in such a manner, that it would be hers and hers only--free from the +control of any husband. He has done so, I presume?" + +"Yes," Mr. Medler replied, with the air of a man who would fain have +withheld the information; "he has left it for her own separate use and +maintenance." + +"And it is a property of some importance, I conclude?" + +"Of some importance--yes," the lawyer answered, in the same tone. + +"Ought not Mrs. Holbrook to have remained to hear the reading of the +will?" + +"Well, yes, decidedly; it would have been more in the usual way of +things; but her absence can have no ill effect upon her interests. Of +course it will be my duty to make her acquainted with the contents of the +will." + +Gilbert Fenton was not prepossessed by Mr. Medler's countenance, which +was not an open candid index to a spotless soul, nor by his surroundings, +which were of the shabbiest; but the business being in this man's hands, +it might be rather difficult to withdraw it--dangerous even. The man held +the will, and in holding that had a certain amount of power. + +"There is no one except Mrs. Holbrook interested in Mr. Nowell's will, I +suppose?" Gilbert said presently. + +"No one directly and immediately, except an old charwoman, who has a +legacy of five-and-twenty pounds." + +"But there is some one else interested in an indirect manner I infer from +your words?" + +"Yes. Mrs. Holbrook takes the whole of the personalty, but she has only a +life-interest in the real estate. If she should have children, it will go +to them on her death; if she should die childless, it will go to her +father, supposing him to survive her." + +"To her father? That is rather strange, isn't it?" + +"I don't know that. It was the old man's wish that the will should be to +that effect." + +"I understood from him that he did not know whether his son was alive or +dead." + +"Indeed! I believe he had news of his son very lately." + +"Curious that he should not have told me, knowing as he did my interest +in everything relating to Mrs. Holbrook." + +"Old people are apt to be close; and Jacob Nowell was about one of the +closest customers I ever met with," answered the lawyer. + +Gilbert left him soon after this, and chartered a hansom in the next +street, which carried him back to the City. He was very uncertain as to +what he ought to do for Marian, doubtful of Mr. Medler's integrity, and +yet anxious to abstain from any act that might seem uncalled for or +officious. She had her husband to look after her interests, as the lawyer +had reminded him, and it was scarcely probable that Mr. Holbrook would +neglect any steps necessary to secure his wife's succession to whatever +property Jacob Nowell had left. It seemed to Gilbert that he could do +nothing at present, except write to Marian, telling her of his interview +with the lawyer, and advising her to lose no time in placing the conduct +of her affairs in more respectable hands than those of Mr. Medler. He +mentioned his own solicitors, a City firm of high standing, as gentlemen +whom she might wisely trust at this crisis of her life. + +This done, he could only wait the issue of events, and he tried to occupy +himself as much as possible with his business at St. Helens--that +business which he seriously intended getting rid of as soon as he could +meet with a favourable opportunity for so doing. He worked with that +object in view. In spite of his losses in Australia, he was in a position +to retire from commerce with a very fair income. He had lost all motive +for sustained exertion, all desire to become rich. A man who has no taste +for expensive bachelor pleasures and no home has very little opportunity +for getting rid of large sums of money. Mr. Fenton had taken life +pleasantly enough, and yet had never spent five hundred a year. He could +retire with an income of eight hundred and having abandoned all idea of +ever marrying this seemed to him more than sufficient. + +The Listers had come back to England, and Mrs. Lister had written to her +brother more than once, begging him to run down to Lidford. Of course +she had expressed herself freely upon the subject of Marian's conduct in +these letters, reprobating the girl's treachery and ingratitude, and +congratulating Gilbert upon his escape from so ineligible a connection. +Mr. Fenton had put his sister off with excuses hitherto, and had +subjected himself thereby to sundry feminine reproaches upon his coldness +and want of affection for Mrs. Lister and her children. "It was very +different when Marian Nowell was here," she wrote; "you thought it no +trouble to come to us then." + +No answer came to his letter to Mrs. Holbrook--which scarcely called for +a reply, unless it had been a few lines of thanks, in acknowledgment of +his interest in her behalf. He had looked for such a letter, and was a +little disappointed by its non-appearance. The omission, slight as it +was, served to strengthen his bitter feeling that his friendship in this +quarter was unneeded and unvalued. + +Business in the City happened to be rather slack at this time; and it +struck Mr. Fenton all at once that he could scarcely have a better +opportunity for wasting two or three days in a visit of duty to the +Listers, and putting an end to his sister's reproachful letters. He had a +second motive for going to Lidford; a motive which had far greater weight +with him than his brotherly affection just at this time. He wanted to see +Sir David Forster, to call that gentleman to some account for the +deliberate falsehood he had uttered at their last meeting. He had no +bloodthirsty or ferocious feelings upon the subject, he could even +understand that the Baronet might have been bound by his own ideas of +honour to tell a lie in the service of his friend; but he wanted to +extort some explanation of the line of conduct Sir David had taken, and +he wanted to ascertain from him the character of Marian's husband. He had +made inquiries about Sir David at the club, and had been told that he was +still at Heatherly. + +He went down to Lidford by an afternoon train, without having troubled +himself to give Mrs. Lister any notice of his coming. The November +evening had closed in upon the quiet rural landscape when he drove from +the station to Lidford. A cold white mist enfolded all things here, +instead of the stifling yellow fog that had filled the London streets +when he walked westwards from the City at the same hour on the previous +evening. Above his head the sky was clear and bright, the mist-wreaths +melting away as they mounted towards the stars. The lighted windows in +the village street had a pleasant homely look; the snug villas, lying +back from the high road with a middle distance of dark lawn and +glistening shrubbery, shone brightly upon the traveller as he drove by, +the curtains not yet drawn before some of the windows, the rooms ruddy in +the firelight. In one of them he caught a brief glimpse of a young +matron seated by the fire with her children clustered at her knee, and +the transient picture struck him with a sudden pang. He had dreamed so +fondly of a home like this; pleasant rooms shining in the sacred light of +the hearth, his wife and children waiting to bid him welcome when the +day's work was done. All other objects which men live and toil for seemed +to him poor and worthless in the absence of this one dear incentive to +exertion, this one sweet recompense for every care. Even Lidford House, +which had never before seemed to him the perfection of a home, had a new +aspect for him to-night, and reminded him sharply of his own loss. He +envied Martin Lister the quiet jog-trot happiness of his domestic life; +his love for and pride in his children; the calm haven of that +comfortable hearth by which he sat to-night, with his slippered feet +stretched luxuriously upon a fender-stool of his wife's manufacture, and +his daughter sitting on a hassock close to his easy-chair, reading in a +book of fairy tales. + +Of course they were all delighted to see him, at once pleased and +surprised by the unexpected visit. He had brought a great parcel of toys +for the two children; and Selwyn Lister, a fine boisterous boy in a +Highland costume, was summoned downstairs to assist at the unpacking of +these treasures. It was half-past seven, and the Listers had dined at +six: but in an incredibly short space of time the Sutherland table had +been drawn out to a cosy position near the fire and spread with a +substantial repast, while Mrs. Lister took her place behind the ponderous +old silver urn which had been an heirloom in her husband's family for the +last two centuries. The Listers were full of talk about their own +travels--a long-delayed continental tour which had been talked of ever +since their return from the honeymoon trip to Geneva and Chamouni; and +were also very eager to hear Gilbert's adventures in Australia, of which +he had given them only very brief accounts in his letters. There was +nothing said that night about Marian, and Gilbert was grateful for his +sister's forbearance. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +CALLED TO ACCOUNT. + + +Gilbert walked over to Heatherly after luncheon next day, taking of +preference the way which led him past Captain Sedgewick's cottage and +through the leafless wood where he and Marian had walked together when +the foliage was in its summer glory. The leaves lay thick upon the mossy +ground now; and the gaunt bare branches of the trees had a weird awful +look in the utter silence of the place. His footsteps trampling upon the +fallen leaves had an echo; and he turned to look behind him more than +once, fancying he was followed. + +The old house, with its long lines of windows, had a prison-like aspect +under the dull November day. Gilbert wondered how such a man as Sir David +Forster could endure his existence there, embittered as it was by the +memory of that calamity which had taken all the sunlight out of his life, +and left him a weary and purposeless hunter after pleasure. But Sir David +had been prostrate under the heavy hand of his hereditary foe, the gout, +for a long time past; and was fain to content himself with such company +as came to him at Heatherly, and such amusement as was to be found in the +society of men who were boon companions rather than friends. Gilbert +Fenton heard the familiar clash of the billiard-balls as he went into the +hall, where a couple of liver-coloured setters were dozing before a great +fire that roared half-way up the wide chimney. There was no other life in +the hall; and Mr. Fenton was conducted to the other end of the house, and +ushered into that tobacco-tainted snuggery in which he had last seen the +Baronet. His suspicions were on the alert this time; and he fancied he +could detect a look of something more than surprise in Sir David's face +when the servant announced him--an uneasy look, as of a man taken at a +disadvantage. + +The Baronet was very gracious, however, and gave him a hearty welcome. + +"I'm uncommonly glad to see you, my dear Fenton," he said, "Indeed, I +have been pleased to see worse fellows than you lately, since this +infernal gout has laid me up in this dreary old place. The house is +pretty full now, I am happy to say. I have friends who will come to shoot +my partridges, though they won't remember my solitude in a charitable +spirit before the first of September. You'll stop and dine, I hope; or +perhaps you can put up here altogether for a week or so. My housekeeper +shall find you a good room; and I can promise you pleasant company. Say +yes, now, like a good fellow, and I'll send a man to Lidford for your +traps." + +"Thanks--no. You are very kind; but I am staying with my sister for a few +days, and must return to town before the end of the week. The fact of the +matter is, Sir David, I have come here to-day to ask you for some +explanation of your conduct at our last interview. I don't want to say +anything rude or disagreeable; for I am quite willing to believe that you +felt kindly towards me, even at the time when you deceived me. I suppose +there are some positions in which a man can hardly expect fair play, and +that mine was such a position. But you certainly did deceive me, Sir +David, and grossly." + +"That last is rather an unpleasant word, Mr. Fenton. In what respect did +I deceive you?" + +"I came here on purpose to ask you if Mr. Holbrook, the man who robbed me +of my promised wife, were a friend of yours, and you denied all knowledge +of him." + +"Granted. And what then, my dear sir?" + +"When I came to ask you that question, I had no special reason for +supposing this Mr. Holbrook was known to you. It only struck me that, +being a stranger in the village, as the result of my inquiries had proved +to me, he might be one of your many visitors. I knew at that time that +Mr. Holbrook had taken his wife to a farm-house in Hampshire immediately +after their marriage--a house lent to him by a friend; but I did not know +that you had any estate in that county. I have been to Hampshire since +then, and have found Mrs. Holbrook at the Grange, near Crosber--in your +house." + +"You have found her! Well, Mr. Fenton, the circumstantial evidence is too +strong for me, so I must plead guilty. Yes; I did deceive you when I told +you that Holbrook was unknown to me; but I pledged my word to keep his +secret--to give you no clue, should you ever happen to question me, that +could lead to your discovery of your lost love's whereabouts. It was +considered, I conclude, that any meeting between you two must needs +result unpleasantly. At any rate, there was a strong desire to avoid you; +and in common duty to my friend I was compelled to respect that desire." + +"Not a very manly wish on the part of my successful rival," said Gilbert. + +"It may have been the lady's wish rather than Mr. Holbrook's." + +"I have reason to know that it was otherwise. I have heard from Marian's +own lips that she would have written a candid confession of the truth had +she been free to do so. It was her husband who prevented her giving me +notice of my desertion." + +"I cannot pretend to explain his conduct," Sir David answered gravely. "I +only know that I pledged myself to keep his secret; and felt bound to do +so, even at the cost of a lie." + +"And this man is your friend. You must know whether he is worthy to be +Marian Nowell's husband. The circumstances of her life do not seem to me +favourable to happiness, so far as I have been able to discover them; nor +did I think her looking happy when we met. But I should be glad to know +that she has not fallen into bad hands." + +"And I suppose by this time your feelings have cooled down a little. You +have abandoned those revengeful intentions you appeared to entertain, +when you were last in this house?" + +"In a great measure, yes. I have promised Marian that, should I and her +husband meet, as we must do, I believe, sooner or later, she need +apprehend no violence on my part. He has won the prize; any open +resentment would seem mere schoolboy folly. But you cannot suppose that I +feel very kindly towards him, or ever shall." + +"Upon my soul, I think men are hardly responsible for their actions where +a woman is concerned," Sir David exclaimed after a pause. "We are the +veriest slaves of destiny in these matters. A man sees the only woman in +the world he can love too late to win her with honour. If he is strong +enough to act nobly, he turns his back upon the scene of his temptation, +all the more easily should the lady happen to be staunch to her +affianced, or her husband, as the case may be. But if _she_ waver--if he +sees that his love is returned--heaven help him! Honour, generosity, +friendship, all go by the board; and for the light in those fatal eyes, +for the dangerous music of that one dear voice, he sacrifices all that he +has held highest in life until that luckless time. I _know_ that Holbrook +held it no light thing to do you this wrong; I know that he fought +manfully against temptation. But, you see, fate was the stronger; and he +had to give way at the last." + +"I cannot agree with that way of looking at things, Sir David. The world +is made up of people who take their own pleasure at any cost to others, +and then throw the onus of their misdoings upon Providence. I have long +ago forgiven the girl who jilted me, and have sworn to be her faithful +and watchful friend in all the days to come. I want to be sure that her +future is a bright one--much brighter than it seemed when I saw her in +your lonely old house near Crosber. She has had money left her since +then; so poverty can no longer be a reason for her being hidden from the +world." + +"I am very glad to hear that; my friend is not a rich man." + +"So Marian told me. But I want to learn something more than that about +him. Up to this moment he has been the most intangible being I ever heard +of. Will you tell me who and what he is--his position in the world, and +so on?" + +"Humph!" muttered Sir David meditatively; "I don't know that I can tell +you much about him. His position is like that of a good many others of my +acquaintance--rather vague and intangible, to use the word you employed +just now. He is not well off; he is a gentleman by birth, with some small +means of his own, and he 'lives, sir, lives.' That is about all I can say +of him--from a worldly point of view. With regard to his affection for +Miss Nowell, I know that he loved her passionately, devotedly, +desperately--the strongest expression you can supply to describe a man's +folly. I never saw any fellow so far gone. Heaven knows, I did my best to +argue him out of his fancy--urged your claim, the girl's poverty, every +reason against the marriage; but friendly argumentation of that kind goes +very little way in such a case. He took his own course. It was only when +I found the business was decided upon, that I offered him my house in +Hampshire; a place to which I never go myself, but which brings me in a +decent income in the hands of a clever bailiff. I knew that Holbrook had +no home ready for his wife, and I thought it would give them a pleasant +retreat enough for a few months, while the honey and rose-leaves still +sweetened the wine-cup of their wedded life. They have stayed there ever +since, as you seem to know; so I conclude they have found the place +agreeable. Confoundedly dreary, I should fancy it myself; but then I'm +not a newly married man." + +The Baronet gave a brief sigh, and his thoughts went back for a moment to +the time when he too was in Arcadia; when a fair young wife was by his +side, and when no hour of his existence seemed ever dull or weary to him. +It was all changed now! He had billiards and whist, and horses and +hounds, and a vast collection of gunnery, and great stores of wine in the +gloomy arched vaults beneath the house, where a hundred prisoners had +been kept under lock and key when Heatherly had fallen into the hands of +the Cromwellian soldiery, and the faithful retainers of the household +were fain to lay down their arms. He had all things that make up the +common pleasures and delights of a man's existence; but he had lost the +love which had given these things a new charm, and without which all life +seemed to him flat, stale, and unprofitable. He could sympathise with +Gilbert Fenton much more keenly than that gentleman would have supposed +possible; for a man suffering from this kind of affliction is apt to +imagine that he has a copyright in that species of grief, and that no +other man ever did or ever can experience a like calamity. The same +manner of trouble may come to others, of course, but not with a similar +intensity. Others will suffer and recover, and find a balm elsewhere. He +alone is constant until death! + +"And you can tell me nothing more about Mr. Holbrook?" he asked after a +pause. + +"Upon my honour, nothing. I think you will do wisely to leave these two +people to take their own way in the future without any interference on +your part. You speak of watchful friendship and all that kind of thing, +and I can quite appreciate your disinterested desire to befriend the +woman whom you once hoped to make your wife. But, believe me, my dear +Fenton, no manner of good can possibly come of your intervention. Those +two have chosen their road in life, and must travel along it, side by +side, through good or evil fortune. Holbrook would naturally be jealous +of any friendship between his wife and you; while such a friendship could +not fail to keep alive bitter thoughts in your mind--could not fail to +sharpen the regret which you fancy just now is to be life-long. I have no +doubt I seem to speak in a hard worldly spirit." + +"You speak like a man of the world, Sir David," the other answered +quietly; "and I cannot deny that there is a certain amount of wisdom in +your advice. No, my friendship is not wanted by either of those two, +supposing even that I were generous enough to be able to give it to both. +I have learnt that lesson already from Marian herself. But you must +remember that I promised her poor old grandfather--the man who died a few +days ago--that I would watch over her interests with patient fidelity, +that I would be her friend and protector, if ever the hour should come in +which she would need friendship and protection. I am not going to forget +this promise, or to neglect its performance; and in order to be true to +my word, I am bound to make myself acquainted with the circumstances of +her married life, and the character of her husband." + +"Cannot you be satisfied with knowing that she is happy?" + +"I have seen her, Sir David, and am by no means assured of her +happiness." + +"And yet it was a love-match on both sides. Holbrook, as I have told you, +loved her passionately." + +"That passionate kind of love is apt to wear itself out very quickly with +some men. Your bailiff's daughter complained bitterly of Mr. Holbrook's +frequent absence from the Grange, of the dulness and loneliness of my +poor girl's life." + +"Women are apt to be exacting," Sir David answered with a deprecating +shrug of the shoulders. "My friend Holbrook has the battle of life to +fight, and could not spend all his days playing the lover. If his wife +has had money left her, that will make some difference in their position. +A man is never at his best when he is worried by debts and financial +difficulties." + +"And Mr. Holbrook was in debt when he married, I suppose?" + +"He was. I must confess that I find that complaint a very common one +among my acquaintance," the Baronet added with a laugh. + +"Will you tell me what this Holbrook is like in person, Sir David? I +have questioned several people about him, and have never obtained +anything beyond the vaguest kind of description." + +Sir David Forster laughed aloud at this request. + +"What! you want to know whether your rival is handsome, I suppose? like +a woman, who always commences her inquiries about another woman by asking +whether she is pretty. My dear Fenton, all personal descriptions are +vague. It is almost impossible to furnish a correct catalogue of any +man's features. Holbrook is just one of those men whom it is most +difficult to describe--not particularly good-looking, nor especially +ill-looking; very clever, and with plenty of expression and character in +his face. Older than you by some years, and looking older than he really +is." + +"Thanks; but there is not one precise statement in your description. Is +the man dark or fair--short or tall?" + +"Rather dark than fair; rather tall than short." + +"That will do, Sir David," Gilbert said, starting suddenly to his feet, +and looking the Baronet in the face intently. "The man who robbed me of +my promised wife is the man whom I introduced to her; the man who has +come between me and all my hopes, who hides himself from my just anger, +and skulks in the background under a feigned name, is the one friend whom +I have loved above all other men--John Saltram!" + +Sir David faced him without flinching. If it was acted surprise which +appeared upon his countenance at the sound of John Saltram's name, the +acting was perfect. Gilbert could discover nothing from that broad stare +of blank amazement. + +"In heaven's name, what can have put such a preposterous notion into your +head?" Sir David asked coolly. + +"I cannot tell you. The conviction has grown upon me, against my own +will. Yes, I have hated myself for being able to suspect my friend. You +do not know how I have loved that man, or how our friendship began at +Oxford long ago with something like hero-worship on my side. I thought +that he was born to be great and noble; and heaven knows I have felt the +disappointments and shortcomings of his career more keenly than he has +felt them himself. No, Sir David, I don't think it is possible for any +man to comprehend how I have loved John Saltram." + +"And yet, without a shred of evidence, you believe him guilty of +betraying you." + +"Will you give me your word of honour that Marian's husband and John +Saltram are not one and the same person?" + +"No," answered Sir David impatiently; "I am tired of the whole business. +You have questioned and cross-questioned me quite long enough, Mr. +Fenton, and I have answered you to the best of my ability, and have given +you rational advice, which you will of course decline to take. If you +think your friend has wronged you, go to him, and tax him with that +wrong. I wash my hands of the affair altogether, from this moment; but, +without wishing to be offensive, I cannot help telling you, that to my +mind you are acting very foolishly in this business." + +"I daresay it may seem so to you. You would think better of me if I could +play the stoic, and say, 'She has jilted me, and is dead to me +henceforward.' But I cannot do that. I have the memory of her peaceful +girlhood--the happy days in which I knew her first--the generous +protector who sheltered her life. I am pledged to the dead, Sir David." + +He left Heatherly soon after this, though the Baronet pressed him to stay +to dinner. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +TORMENTED BY DOUBT. + + +The long homeward walk gave Gilbert ample leisure for reflection upon his +interview with Sir David; a very unsatisfactory interview at the best. +Yes, the conviction that the man who had wronged him was no other than +his own familiar friend, had flashed upon him with a new force as the +Baronet answered his questions about John Holbrook. The suspicion which +had entered his mind after he left the lonely farm-house near Crosber, +and which he had done his uttermost to banish, as if it had been a +suggestion of the evil one, came back to him to-day with a form and +reality which it had lacked before. It seemed no longer a vague fancy, a +dark unwelcome thought that bordered on folly. It had taken a new shape +altogether, and appeared to him almost a certainty. + +Sir David's refusal to make any direct denial of the fact seemed to +confirm his suspicion. Yet it was, on the other hand, just possible that +Sir David, finding him on a false scent, should have been willing to let +him follow it, and that the real offender should be screened by this +suspicion of John Saltram. But then there arose in his mind a doubt that +had perplexed him sorely for a long time. If his successful rival had +been indeed a stranger to him, what reason could there be for so much +mystery in the circumstances of the marriage? and why should Marian have +so carefully avoided telling him anything about her husband? That his +friend, having betrayed him, should shrink from the revelation of his +falsehood, should adopt any underhand course to avoid discovery, seemed +natural enough. Yet to believe this was to think meanly of the man whom +he had loved so well, whom he had confided in so implicitly until the +arising of this cruel doubt. + +He had known long ago, when the first freshness of his boyish delusions +faded away before the penetrating clear daylight of reality, he had known +long ago that his friend was not faultless; that except in that one +faithful alliance with himself, John Saltram had been fickle, wayward, +vacillating, unstable, and inconstant, true to no dream of his youth, no +ambition of his early manhood, content to drop one purpose after another, +until his life was left without any exalted aim. But Gilbert had fancied +his friend's nature was still a noble one in spite of the comparative +failure of his life. It was very difficult for him to imagine it possible +that this friend could act falsely and ungenerously, could steal his +betrothed from him, and keep the secret of his guilt, pretending to +sympathise with the jilted lover all the while. + +But though Mr. Fenton told himself at one moment that this was +impossible, his thoughts travelled back to the same point immediately +afterwards, and the image of John Saltram arose before him as that of his +hidden foe. He remembered the long autumn days which he and his friend +had spent with Marian--those unclouded utterly happy days, which he +looked back upon now with a kind of wonder. They had been so much +together, Marian so bright and fascinating in her innocent enjoyment of +the present, brighter and happier just then than she had ever seemed to +him before, Gilbert remembered with a bitter pang. He had been completely +unsuspicious at the time, untroubled by one doubtful thought; but it +appeared to him now that there had been a change in Marian from the time +of his friend's coming--a new joyousness and vivacity, a keener delight +in the simple pleasures of their daily life, and withal a fitfulness, a +tendency to change from gaiety to thoughtful silence, that he had not +remarked in her before. + +Was it strange if John Saltram had fallen in love with her? was it +possible to see her daily in all the glory of her girlish loveliness, +made doubly bewitching by the sweetness of her nature, the indescribable +charm of her manner--was it possible to be with her often, as John +Saltram had been, and not love her? Gilbert Fenton had thought of his +friend as utterly impregnable to any such danger; as a man who had spent +all his stock of tender emotion long ago, and who looked upon matrimony +as a transaction by which he might mend his broken fortunes. That this +man should fall a victim to the same subtle charm which had subjugated +himself, was a possibility that never occurred to Gilbert's mind, in this +happy period of his existence. He wanted his friend's approval of his +choice; he wished to see his passion justified in the eyes of the man +whom it was his habit to regard in somewise as a superior creature; and +it had been a real delight to him to hear Mr. Saltram's warm praises of +Marian. + +Looking back at the past to-day from a new point of view, he wondered at +his own folly. What was more natural than that John Saltram should have +found his doom, as he had found it, unthought of, undreamed of, swift, +and fatal? Nor was it difficult for him to believe that Marian--who had +perhaps never really loved him, who had been induced to accept him by his +own pertinacity and her uncle's eager desire for the match--should find a +charm and a power in John Saltram that had been wanting in himself. He +had seen too many instances of his friend's influence over men and women, +to doubt his ability to win this innocent inexperienced girl, had he set +himself to win her. He recalled with a bitter smile how his informants +had all described his rival in a disparaging tone, as unworthy of so fair +a bride; and he knew that it was precisely those qualities which these +common people were unable to appreciate that constituted the subtle charm +by which John Saltram influenced others. The rugged power and grandeur of +that dark face, which vulgar critics denounced as plain and unattractive, +the rare fascination of a manner that varied from an extreme reserve to a +wild reckless vivacity, the magic of the deep full voice, with its +capacity for the expression of every shade of emotion--these were +attributes to be passed over and ignored by the vulgar, yet to exercise a +potent influence upon sensitive sympathetic natures. + +"How that poor little Anglo-Indian widow loves him, without any effort to +win or hold her affection on his side!" Gilbert said to himself, as he +walked back to Lidford in the darkening November afternoon, brooding +always on the one subject which occupied all his thoughts; "and can I +doubt his power to supersede me if he cared to do so--if he really loved +Marian, as he never has loved Mrs. Branston? What shall I do? Go to him +at once, and tell him my suspicion, tax him broadly with treachery, and +force him to a direct confession or denial? Shall I do this? Or shall I +bide my time, wait and watch with dull dogged patience, till I can +collect some evidence of his guilt? Yes, let it be so. If he has been +base enough to do me this great wrong--mean enough to steal my betrothed +under a false name, and to keep the secret of his wrong-doing at any cost +of lies and deceit--let him go on to the end, let him act out the play to +the last; and when I bring his falsehood home to him, as I must surely +do, sooner or later,--yes, if he is capable of deceiving me, he shall +continue the lie to the last, he shall endure all the infamy of his false +position." + +And then, after a pause, he said to himself,-- + +"And at the end, if my suspicions are confirmed, I shall have lost all I +have ever valued in life since my mother died--my plighted wife, and the +one chosen friend whose companionship could make existence pleasant to +me. God grant that this fancy of mine is as baseless as Sir David Forster +declared it to be! God grant that I may never find a secret enemy in +John Saltram!" + +Tossed about thus upon a sea of doubts, Mr. Fenton returned to Lidford +House, where he was expected to be bright and cheerful, and entertain his +host and hostess with the freshest gossip of the London world. He did +make a great effort to keep up a show of cheerfulness at the +dinner-table; but he felt that his sister's eyes were watching him with a +pitiless scrutiny, and he knew that the attempt was an ignominious +failure. + +When honest Martin was snoring in his easy-chair before the drawing-room +fire, with the red light shining full upon his round healthy countenance, +Mrs. Lister beckoned her brother over to her side of the hearth, where +she had an embroidery-frame, whereon was stretched some grand design in +Berlin wool-work, to which she devoted herself every now and then with a +great show of industry. She had been absorbed in a profound calculation +of the stitches upon the canvas and on the coloured pattern before her +until this moment; but she laid aside her work with a solemn air when +Gilbert went over to her, and he knew at once what was coming. + +"Sit down, Gilbert," she said; and her brother dropped into a chair by +her side with a faint sigh of resignation. "I want to talk to you +seriously, as a sister ought to talk to a brother, without any fear of +offending. I'm very sorry to see you have not yet forgotten that wicked +ungrateful girl Marian Nowell." + +"Who told you that I have not forgotten her?" + +"Your own face, Gilbert. It's no use for you to put on a pretence of +being cheerful and light-hearted with me. I know you too well to be +deceived by that kind of thing--I could see how absent-minded you were +all dinner-time, in spite of your talk. You can't hoodwink an +affectionate sister." + +"I don't wish to hoodwink you, my dear," Mr. Fenton answered quietly, "or +to affect a happiness which I do not feel, any more than I wish to make a +parade of my grief. It is natural for an Englishman to be reticent on +such matters; but I do not mind owning to you that Marian Nowell is +unforgotten by me, and that the loss of her will have an enduring +influence upon my life; and having said as much as that, Belle, I must +request that you will not expatiate any more upon this poor girl's breach +of faith. I have forgiven her long ago, and I shall always regard her as +the purest and dearest of women." + +"What! you can hold her up as a paragon of perfection after she has +thrown you over in the most heartless manner? Upon my word, Gilbert, I +have no common patience with such folly. Your weakness in this affair +from first to last has been positively deplorable." + +"I am sorry you disapprove of my conduct, Belle; but as it is not a very +pleasant subject, don't you think we may as well avoid it now and +henceforward?" + +"O, very well, Gilbert," the lady exclaimed, with an offended air; "of +course, if you choose to exclude me from your confidence, I must submit; +but I do think it rather hard that your only sister should not be allowed +to speak of a business that concerns you so nearly." + +"What good can arise out of any discussion of this subject, Belle? You +think me weak and foolish; granted that I am both, you cannot cure me of +my weakness or my folly." + +"And am I never to hope that you will find some one else, better worthy +of your regard than Marian Nowell?" + +"I fear not, Belle. For me there is no one else." + +Mrs. Lister breathed a profound sigh, and resumed the counting of her +stitches. Yet perhaps, after all, it was better that her brother should +cherish the memory of this unlucky attachment. It would preserve him from +the hazard of any imprudent alliance in the future, and leave his fortune +free, to descend by-and-by to the juvenile Listers. Isabella was not a +particularly mercenary person, but she was a woman of the world, and had +an eye to the future aggrandisement of her children. + +She was very kind and considerate to Gilbert after this, carefully +avoiding any farther allusions to his lost love, and taking all possible +pains to make his visit pleasant to him. She was so affectionate and +cordial, and seemed so really anxious for him to stay, that he could not +in common decency hurry back to town quite so soon as he had intended. He +prolonged his visit to the end of that week, and then to the beginning of +the next; and when he did at last find himself free to return to London, +the second week was nearly ended. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +MISSING AGAIN. + + +Gilbert Fenton was very glad to have made his escape from Lidford at +last, for his mind was full of anxiety about Marian. Again and again he +had argued with himself upon the folly and uselessness of this anxiety. +She, for whose interests he was so troubled, was safe enough no doubt, +protected by a husband, who was most likely a man of the world, and quite +as able to protect her as Gilbert himself could be. He told himself this; +but still the restless uneasy sense that he was neglecting his duty, that +he was false to the promise made to old Jacob Nowell, tormented and +perplexed him. He felt that he ought to be doing something--that he had +no right to remain in ignorance of the progress of Marian's affairs--that +he should be at hand to frustrate any attempt at knavery on the part of +the lawyer--to be sure that the old man's wealth suffered no diminution +before it reached the hands of his heiress. + +Gilbert Fenton felt that his promise to the dead bound him to do these +things, and felt at the same time the weakness of his own position with +relation to Marian. By what right could he interfere in the conduct of +her affairs? what claim could he assert to defend her interests? who +would listen to any romantic notion about a promise made to the dead? + +He went to Queen Anne's Court upon the night of his return to London. The +silversmith's shop looked exactly the same as when he had first seen it: +the gas burning dimly, the tarnished old salvers and tankards gleaming +duskily in the faint light, with all manner of purple and greenish hues. +Mr. Tulliver was in his little den at the back of the shop, and emerged +with his usual rapidity at the ringing of the door-bell. + +"O, it's you, is it, sir?" he asked in an indifferent, half-insolent +tone. "What can I do for you this evening?" + +"Is your late master's granddaughter, Mrs. Holbrook, here?" Gilbert +asked. + +"No; Mrs. Holbrook went away on the morning after my master's death. I +told you that when you called here last." + +"I am quite aware of that; but I thought it likely Mrs. Holbrook might +return here with her husband, to take possession of the property, which I +suppose you know now belongs to her." + +"Yes, I know all about that; but she hasn't come yet to take possession; +she doesn't seem in such a desperate hurry about it. I daresay she knows +that things are safe enough. Medler the lawyer is not the kind of party +to be cheated out of sixpence. He has taken an inventory of every article +in the place, and the weight and value of every article. Your friend Mrs. +Holbrook needn't be afraid. I suppose she's some relation of yours, +by-the-bye, sir, judging by the interest you seem to take in her +affairs?" + +"Yes," Gilbert said, not caring to answer this question directly, "I do +take a warm interest in Mrs. Holbrook's affairs, and I am very anxious to +see her placed in undisputed possession of her late grandfather's +property." + +"I should think her husband would see after that," Mr. Tulliver remarked +with a sneer. + +Gilbert left the court after having asked a few questions about Jacob +Nowell's funeral. The old man had been buried at Kensalgreen, followed to +the grave only by the devoted Tulliver, Mr. Medler, and the local surgeon +who had attended him in his last illness. He had lived a lonely +friendless life, holding himself aloof from his fellow-creatures; and +there were neither neighbours nor friends to lament his ending. The +vagabond boys of the neighbourhood had clustered round the door to +witness the last dismal ceremony of Mr. Nowell's existence, and had hung +about the shop-front for some time after the funeral _cortege_ had +departed, peering curiously down into the darksome area, and speculating +upon the hoards of wealth which the old miser had hidden away in +coal-cellars and dust-bins, under the stone flags of the scullery, or in +the crannies of the dilapidated walls. There were no bounds to the +imagination of these street Arabs, who had been in the habit of yelping +and whooping at the old man's heels when he took his infrequent walks +abroad, assailing him with derisive epithets alluding to his miserly +propensities. Amongst the elders of the court there was some little talk +about the dead man, and the probable disposal of his property, with a +good deal of argument and laying down of the law on the part of the +graver and wiser members of that community; some people affecting to know +to a sixpence the amount of Jacob Nowell's savings, others accrediting +him with the possession of fabulous riches, and all being unanimous in +the idea that the old man's heir or heirs, as the case might be, would +speedily scatter his long-hoarded treasures. Many of these people could +remember the silversmith's prodigal son; but none among them were aware +of that gentleman's return. They wondered a good deal as to whether he +was still living, and whether the money had been left to him or to that +pretty young woman who had appeared in the last days of the old man's +life, no one knowing whence she had come. There was nothing to be gained +from questioning Luke Tulliver, the court knew of old experience. The +most mysterious dungeons of the Spanish Inquisition, the secret chambers +under the leads in Venice, were not closer or deeper than the mind of +that young man. The court had been inclined to think that Luke Tulliver +would come into all his master's money; and opinion inclined that way +even yet, seeing that Mr. Tulliver still held his ground in the shop, and +that no strangers had been seen to enter the place since the funeral. + +From Queen Anne's Court Gilbert Fenton went on to the gloomy street where +Mr. Medler had his office and abode. It was not an hour for a +professional visit; but Gilbert found the lawyer still hard at work at +his desk, under the lurid light of a dirty-looking battered old oil-lamp, +which left the corners of the dingy wainscoted room in profound +obscurity. He looked up from his papers with some show of surprise on +hearing Mr. Fenton's name announced by the slipshod maid-of-all-work who +had admitted the late visitor, Mr. Medler's solitary clerk having +departed to his own dwelling some hours before. + +"I must ask you to excuse this untimely call, Mr. Medler," Gilbert said +politely; "but the fact of the matter is, I am a little anxious about my +friend Mrs. Holbrook and her affairs, and I thought you the most likely +person to give me some information about them. I should have called in +business hours; but I have only just returned from the country, and did +not care to delay my inquiries until to-morrow. I have just come from +Queen Anne's Court, and am rather surprised to find that neither Mrs. +Holbrook nor her husband has been there. You have seen or heard from them +since the funeral, I suppose?" + +"No, Mr. Fenton, I have neither seen nor heard of them. I wrote a formal +letter to Mrs. Holbrook, setting out the contents of the will; but there +has been no answer as yet." + +"Strange, is it not?" Gilbert exclaimed, with an anxious look. + +"Well, yes, it is certainly not the usual course of proceeding. However, +there is time enough yet. The funeral has not been over much more than a +week. The property is perfectly safe, you know." + +"Of course; but it is not the less extraordinary that Mr. Holbrook should +hang back in this manner. I will go down to Hampshire the first thing +to-morrow and see Mrs. Holbrook." + +"Humph!" muttered the lawyer; "I can't say that I see any necessity for +that. But of course you know best." + +Gilbert Fenton did start for Hampshire early the next morning by the same +train in which Marian had travelled after her grandfather's death. It was +still quite early in the day when he found himself at Malsham, that quiet +comfortable little market-town where he had first discovered a clue to +the abode of his lost love. He went to the hotel, and hired a fly to take +him to Crosber, where he left the vehicle at the old inn, preferring to +walk on to the Grange. It was a bright November day, with a pale yellow +sunlight shining on the level fields, and distant hills that rose beyond +them crowned with a scanty fringe of firs, that stood out black and sharp +against the clear autumn sky. It was a cheerful day, and a solitary bird +was singing here and there, as if beguiled by that pleasant warmth and +sunshine into the fond belief that winter was still far off and the glory +of fields and woods not yet departed. Gilbert's spirits rose in some +degree under the influence of that late brightness and sweet rustic calm. +He fancied that there might be still some kind of happiness for him in +the long years to come; pale and faint like the sunlight of to-day--an +autumnal calm. If he might be Marian's friend and brother, her devoted +counsellor, her untiring servant, it seemed to him that he could be +content, that he could live on from year to year moderately happy in the +occasional delight of her society; rewarded for his devotion by a few +kind words now and then,--a letter, a friendly smile,--rewarded still +more richly by her perfect trust in him. + +These thoughts were in his mind to-day as he went along the lonely +country lane leading to the Grange; thoughts which seemed inspired by the +tranquil landscape and peaceful autumn day; thoughts which were full of +the purest love and charity,--yes, even for his unknown rival, even if +that rival should prove to be the one man in all this world from whom a +deep wrong would seem most bitter. + +"What am I, that I should measure the force of his temptation," he said +to himself, "or the strength of his resistance? Let me be sure that he +loves my darling as truly as I love her, that the chief object of his +life has been and will be her happiness, and then let me put away all +selfish vindictive thoughts, and fall quietly into the background of my +dear one's life, content to be her brother and her friend." + +The Grange looked unchanged in its sombre lonely aspect. The +chrysanthemums were all withered by this time, and there were now no +flowers in the old-fashioned garden. The bell was answered by the same +woman who had admitted him before, and who made no parley about letting +him in this time. + +"My young missus said I was to be sure and let her know if you came, +sir," she said; "she's very anxious to see you." + +"Your young mistress; do you mean Mrs. Holbrook?" + +"No, sir; Miss Carley, master's daughter." + +"Indeed! I remember the young lady; I shall be very happy to see her if +she has anything to say to me; but it is Mrs. Holbrook I have come to +see. She is at home, I suppose?" + +"O dear no, sir; Mrs. Holbrook has left, without a word of notice, gone +nobody knows where. That is what has made our young missus fret about it +so." + +"Mrs. Holbrook has left!" Gilbert exclaimed in blank amazement; "when?" + +"It's more than a week ago now, sir." + +"And do none of you know why she went away, or where she has gone?" + +"No more than the dead, sir. But you'd better see Miss Carley; she'll be +able to tell you all about it." + +The woman led him into the house, and to the room in which he had seen +Marian. There was no fire here to-day, and the room had a desolate +unoccupied look, though the sun was shining cheerfully on the +old-fashioned many-paned windows. There were a few books, which Gilbert +remembered as Marian's literary treasures, neatly arranged on a rickety +old chiffonier by the fire-place, and the desk and work-basket which he +had seen on his previous visit. + +He was half bewildered by what the woman had told him, and his heart +beat tumultuously as he stood by the empty hearth, waiting for Ellen +Carley's coming. It seemed to him as if the girl never would come. The +ticking of an old eight-day clock in the hall had a ghastly sound in the +dead silence of the house, and an industrious mouse made itself +distinctly heard behind the wainscot. + +At last a light rapid footstep came tripping across the hall, and Ellen +Carley entered the room. She was looking paler than when Gilbert had seen +her last, and the bright face was very grave. + +"For heaven's sake tell me what this means, Miss Carley," Gilbert began +eagerly. "Your servant tells me that Mrs. Holbrook has left you--in some +mysterious way, I imagine, from what the woman said." + +"O, sir, I am so glad you have come here; I should have written to you if +I had known where to address a letter. Yes, sir, she has gone--that dear +sweet young creature--and I fear some harm has come to her." + +The girl burst into tears, and for some minutes could say no more. + +"Pray, pray be calm," Gilbert said gently, "and tell me all you can about +this business. How did Mrs. Holbrook leave this place? and why do you +suspect that any harm has befallen her?" + +"There is every reason to think so, sir. Is it like her to leave us +without a word of notice, knowing, as she must have known, the +unhappiness she would cause to me, who love her so well, by such a step? +She knew how I loved her. I think she had scarcely a secret from me." + +"If you will only tell me the manner of her departure," Gilbert said +rather impatiently. + +"Yes, yes, sir; I am coming to that directly. She seemed happier after +she came back from London, poor dear; and she told me that her +grandfather had left her money, and that she was likely to become quite a +rich woman. The thought of this gave her so much pleasure--not for her +own sake, but for her husband's, whose cares and difficulties would all +come to an end now, she told me. She had been back only a few days, when +I left home for a day and a night, to see my aunt--an old woman and a +constant invalid, who lives at Malsham. I had put off going to her for a +long time, for I didn't care about leaving Mrs. Holbrook; but I had to go +at last, my aunt thinking it hard that I couldn't spare time to spend a +day with her, and tidy up her house a bit, and see to the girl that waits +upon her, poor helpless thing. So I started off before noon one day, +after telling Mrs. Holbrook where I was going, and when I hoped to be +back. She was in very good spirits that morning, for she expected her +husband next day. 'I have told him nothing about the good fortune that +has come to me, Nelly,' she said; 'I have only written to him, begging +him to return as quickly as possible, and he will be here to-morrow by +the afternoon express.' Mr. Holbrook is a great walker, and generally +walks from Malsham here, by a shorter way than the high-road, across some +fields and by the river-bank. His wife used always to go part of the way +to meet him when she knew he was coming. I know she meant to go and meet +him this time. The way is very lonely, and I have often felt fidgety +about her going alone, but she hadn't a bit of fear; and I didn't like to +offer to go with her, feeling sure that Mr. Holbrook would be vexed by +seeing me at such a time. Well, sir, I had arranged everything +comfortably, so that she should miss nothing by my being away, and I bade +her good-bye, and started off to walk to Malsham. I can't tell you how +hard it seemed to me to leave her, for it was the first time we had been +parted for so much as a day since she came to the Grange. I thought of +her all the while I was at my aunt's; who has very fidgety ways, poor old +lady, and isn't a pleasant person to be with. I felt quite in a fever of +impatience to get home again; and was very glad when a neighbour's +spring-cart dropped me at the end of the lane, and I saw the gray old +chimneys above the tops of the trees. It was four o'clock in the +afternoon when I got home; father was at tea in the oak-parlour where we +take our meals, and the house was as quiet as a grave. I came straight to +this room, but it was empty; and when I called Martha, she told me Mrs. +Holbrook had gone out at one o'clock in the day, and had not been home +since, though she was expected back to dinner at three. She had been away +three hours then, and at a time when I knew she could not expect Mr. +Holbrook, unless she had received a fresh letter from him to say that he +was coming by an earlier train than usual. I asked Martha if there had +been any letters for Mrs. Holbrook that day; and she told me yes, there +had been one by the morning post. It was no use asking Martha what kind +of letter it looked, and whether it was from Mr. Holbrook, for the poor +ignorant creature can neither read nor write, and one handwriting is the +same as another to her. Mrs. Holbrook had told her nothing as to where +she was going, only saying that she would be back in an hour or two. +Martha let her out at the gate, and watched her take the way towards the +river-bank, and, seeing this, made sure she was going to meet her +husband. Well, sir, five o'clock struck, and Mrs. Holbrook had not come +home. I began to feel seriously uneasy about her. I told my father so; +but he took the matter lightly enough at first, saying it was no +business of ours, and that Mrs. Holbrook was just as well able to take +care of herself as any one else. But after five o'clock I couldn't rest a +minute longer; so I put on my bonnet and shawl and went down by the +river-bank, after sending one of the farm-labourers to look for my poor +dear in the opposite direction. It's a very lonely walk at the best of +times, though a few of the country folks do go that way between Malsham +and Crosber on market-days. There's scarcely a house to be seen for +miles, except Wyncomb Farmhouse, Stephen Whitelaw's place, which lies a +little way back from the river-bank, about a mile from here; besides that +and a solitary cottage here and there, you won't see a sign of human life +for four or five miles. Anybody might be pushed into the river and made +away with in broad daylight, and no one need be the wiser. The loneliness +of the place struck me with an awful fear that afternoon, and from that +moment I began to think that I should never see Mrs. Holbrook again." + +"What of her husband? He was expected on this particular afternoon, you +say?" + +"He was, sir; but he did not come till the next day. It was almost dark +when I went to the river-bank. I walked for about three miles and a half, +to a gate that opened into the fields by which Mr. Holbrook came across +from Malsham. I knew his wife never went farther than this gate, but used +to wait for him here, if she happened to be the first to reach it. I +hurried along, half running all the way, and calling aloud to Mrs. +Holbrook every now and then with all my might. But there was no answer. +Some men in a boat loaded with hay stopped to ask me what was the matter, +but they could tell me nothing. They were coming from Malsham, and had +seen no one along the bank. I called at Mr. Whitelaw's as I came back, +not with much hope that I should hear anything; but what could I do but +make inquiries anywhere and everywhere? I was almost wild with fright by +this time. They could tell me nothing at Wyncomb Farm. Stephen Whitelaw +was alone in the kitchen smoking his pipe by a great fire. He hadn't been +out all day, he told me, and none of his people had seen or heard +anything out of the common. As to any harm having come to Mrs. Holbrook +by the river-bank, he said he didn't think that was possible, for his men +had been at work in the fields near the river all the afternoon, and must +have seen or heard if there had been anything wrong. There was some kind +of comfort in this, and I left the farm with my mind a little lighter +than it had been when I went in there. I knew that Stephen Whitelaw was +no friend to Mrs. Holbrook; that he had a kind of grudge against her +because she had been on some one else's side--in--in something." Ellen +Carley blushed as she came to this part of her story, and then went on +rather hurriedly to hide her confusion. "He didn't like her, sir, you +see. I knew this, but I didn't think it possible he could deceive me in a +matter of life and death. So I came home, hoping to find Mrs. Holbrook +there before me. But there were no signs of her, nor of her husband +either, though I had fully expected to see him. Even father owned that +things looked bad now, and he let me send every man about the place--some +one way, and some another--to hunt for my poor darling. I went into +Crosber myself, though it was getting late by this time, and made +inquiries of every creature I knew in the village; but it was all no +good: no one had seen anything of the lady I was looking for." + +"And the husband?" Gilbert asked again; "what of him?" + +"He came next day at the usual hour, after we had been astir all night, +and the farm-labourers had been far and wide looking for Mrs. Holbrook. I +never saw any one seem so shocked and horrified as he did when we told +him how his wife had been missing for more than four-and-twenty hours. He +is not a gentleman to show his feelings much at ordinary times, and he +was quiet enough in the midst of his alarm; but he turned as white as +death, and I never saw the natural colour come back to his face all the +time he was down here." + +"How long did he stay?" + +"He only left yesterday. He was travelling about the country all the +time, coming back here of a night to sleep, and with the hope that we +might have heard something in his absence. The river was dragged for +three days; but, thank God, nothing came of that. Mr. Holbrook set the +Malsham police to work--not that they're much good, I think; but he +wouldn't leave a stone unturned. And now I believe he has gone to London +to get help from the police there. But O, sir, I can't make it out, and I +have lain awake, night after night thinking of it, and puzzling myself +about it, until all sorts of dreadful fancies come into my mind." + +"What fancies?" + +"O, sir, I scarcely dare tell you; but I loved that sweet young lady so +well, that I have been as watchful and jealous in all things that +concerned her as if she had been my own sister. I have thought sometimes +that her husband had grown tired of her; that, however dearly he might +have loved her at first, as I suppose he did, his love had worn out +little by little, and he felt her a burden to him. What other reason +could there be for him to keep her hidden away in this dull place, month +after month, when he must have seen that her youth and beauty and gaiety +of heart were slowly vanishing away, if he had eyes to see anything?" + +"But, good Heavens!" Gilbert exclaimed, startled by the sudden horror of +the idea which Ellen Carley's words suggested, "you surely do not imagine +that Marian's husband had any part in her disappearance? that he could be +capable of----" + +"I don't know what to think, sir," the girl answered, interrupting him. +"I know that I have never liked Mr. Holbrook--never liked or trusted him +from the first, though he has been civil enough and kind enough in his +own distant way to me. That dear young lady could not disappear off the +face of the earth, as it seems she has done, without the evil work of +some one. As to her leaving this place of her own free will, without a +word of warning to her husband or to me, that I am sure she would never +dream of doing. No, sir, there has been foul play of some kind, and I'm +afraid I shall never see that dear face again." + +The girl said this with an air of conviction that sent a deadly chill to +Gilbert Fenton's heart. It seemed to him in this moment of supreme +anguish as if all his trouble of the past, all his vague fears and +anxieties about the woman he loved, had been the foreshadowing of this +evil to come. He had a blank helpless feeling, a dismal sense of his own +weakness, which for the moment mastered him. Against any ordinary +calamity he would have held himself bravely enough, with the natural +strength of an ardent hopeful character; but against this mysterious +catastrophe courage and manhood could avail nothing. She was gone, the +fragile helpless creature he had pledged himself to protect; gone from +all who knew her, leaving not the faintest clue to her fate. Could he +doubt that this energetic warm-hearted girl was right, and that some foul +deed had been done, of which Marian Holbrook was the victim? + +"If she lives, I will find her," he said at last, after a long pause, in +which he had sat in gloomy silence, with his eyes fixed upon the ground, +meditating the circumstances of Marian's disappearance. "Living or dead, +I will find her. It shall be the business of my life from this hour. All +my serious thoughts have been of her from the moment in which I first +knew her. They will be doubly hers henceforward." + +"How good and true you are!" Ellen Carley exclaimed admiringly; "and how +you must have loved her! I guessed when you were here last that it was +you to whom she was engaged before her marriage, and told her as much; +but she would not acknowledge that I was right. O, how I wish she had +kept faith with you! how much happier she might have been as your wife!" + +"People have different notions of happiness, you see, Miss Carley," +Gilbert answered with a bitter smile. "Yes, you were right; it was I who +was to have been Marian Nowell's husband, whose every hope of the future +was bound up in her. But all that is past; whatever bitterness I felt +against her at first--and I do not think I was ever very bitter--has +passed away. I am nothing now but her friend, her steadfast and constant +friend." + +"Thank heaven that she has such a friend," Ellen said earnestly. "And you +will make it your business to look for her, sir?" + +"The chief object of my life, from this hour." + +"And you will try to discover whether her husband is really true, or +whether the search that he has made for her has been a blind to hide his +own guilt?" + +"What grounds have you for supposing his guilt possible?" asked Gilbert. +"There are crimes too detestable for credibility; and this would be such +a one. You may imagine that I have no friendly feeling towards this man, +yet I cannot for an instant conceive him capable of harming a hair of his +wife's head." + +"Because you have not brooded upon this business as I have, sir, for +hours and hours together, until the smallest things seem to have an awful +meaning. I have thought of every word and every look of Mr. Holbrook's in +the past, and all my thoughts have pointed one way. I believe that he was +tired of his sweet young wife; that his marriage was a burden and a +trouble to him somehow; that it had arisen out of an impulse that had +passed away." + +"All this might be, and yet the man be innocent." + +"He might be--yes, sir. It is a hard thing, perhaps, even to think him +guilty for a moment. But it is so difficult to account in any common way +for Mrs. Holbrook's disappearance. If there had been murder done" (the +girl shuddered as she said the words)--"a common murder, such as one +hears of in lonely country places--surely it must have come to light +before this, after the search that has been made all round about. But it +would have been easy enough for Mr. Holbrook to decoy his wife away to +London or anywhere else. She would have gone anywhere with him, at a +moment's notice. She obeyed him implicitly in everything." + +"But why should he have taken her away from this place in a secret +manner?" asked Gilbert; "he was free to remove her openly. And then you +describe him as taking an amount of trouble in his search for her, which +might have been so easily avoided, had he acted with ordinary prudence +and caution. Say that he wanted to keep the secret of his marriage from +the world in which he lives, and to place his wife in even a more +secluded spot than this--which scarcely seems possible--what could have +been easier for him than to take her away when and where he pleased? No +one here would have had any right to question his actions." + +Ellen Carley shook her head doubtfully. + +"I don't know, sir," she answered slowly; "I daresay my fancies are very +foolish; they may have come, perhaps, out of thinking about this so much, +till my brain has got addled, as one may say. But it flashed upon me all +of a sudden one night, as Mr. Holbrook was standing in our parlour +talking about his wife--it flashed upon me that he was in the secret of +her disappearance, and that he was only acting with us in his pretence of +anxiety and all that; I fancied there was a guilty look in his face, +somehow." + +"Did you tell him about his wife's good fortune--the money left her by +her grandfather?" + +"I did, sir; I thought it right to tell him everything I could about my +poor dear young lady's journey to London. She had told him of that in her +letters, it seemed, but not about the money. She had been keeping that +back for the pleasure of telling him with her own lips, and seeing his +face light up, she said to me, when he heard the good news. I asked him +about the letter which had come in the morning of the day she +disappeared, and whether it was from him; but he said no, he had not +written, counting upon being with his wife that evening. It was only at +the last moment he was prevented coming." + +"You have looked for that letter, I suppose?" + +"O yes, sir; I searched, and Mr. Holbrook too, in every direction, but +the letter wasn't to be found. He seemed very vexed about it, very +anxious to find it. We could not but think that Mrs. Holbrook had gone to +meet some one that day, and that the letter had something to do with her +going out. I am sure she would not have gone beyond the garden and the +meadow for pleasure alone. She never had been outside the gate without +me, except when she went to meet her husband." + +"Strange!" muttered Gilbert. + +He was wondering about that letter: what could have been the lure which +had beguiled Marian away from the house that day; what except a letter +from her husband? It seemed hardly probable that she would have gone to +meet any one but him, or that any one else would have appointed a meeting +on the river-bank. The fact that she had gone out at an earlier hour than +the time at which she had been in the habit of meeting her husband when +he came from the Malsham station, went some way to prove that the letter +had influenced her movements. Gilbert thought of the fortune which had +been left to Marian, and which gave her existence a new value, perhaps +exposed her to new dangers. Her husband's interests were involved in her +life; her death, should she die childless, must needs deprive him of all +advantage from Jacob Nowell's wealth. The only person to profit from such +an event would be Percival Nowell; but he was far away, Gilbert believed, +and completely ignorant of his reversionary interest in his father's +property. There was Medler the attorney, a man whom Gilbert had +distrusted from the first. It was just possible that the letter had been +from him; yet most improbable that he should have asked Mrs. Holbrook to +meet him out of doors, instead of coming to her at the Grange, or that +she should have acceded to such a request, had he made it. + +The whole affair was encompassed with mystery, and Gilbert Fenton's heart +sank as he contemplated the task that lay before him. + +"I shall spend a day or two in this neighbourhood before I return to +town," he said to Ellen Carley presently; "there are inquiries that I +should like to make with my own lips. I shall be only going over old +ground, I daresay, but it will be some satisfaction to me to do it for +myself. Can you give me house-room here for a night or two, or shall I +put up at Crosber?" + +"I'm sure father would be very happy to accommodate you here, sir. We've +plenty of room now; too much for my taste. The house seems like a +wilderness now Mrs. Holbrook is gone." + +"Thanks. I shall be very glad to sleep here. There is just the chance +that you may have some news for me, or I for you." + +"Ah, sir, it's only a very poor chance, I'm afraid," the girl answered +hopelessly. + +She went with Gilbert to the gate, and watched him as he walked away +towards the river. His first impulse was to follow the path which Marian +had taken that day, and to see for himself what manner of place it was +from which she had so mysteriously vanished. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +IN BONDAGE. + + +Adela Branston found life very dreary in the splendid gloom of her town +house. She would have infinitely preferred the villa near Maidenhead for +the place of her occupation, had it not been for the fact that in London +she was nearer John Saltram, and that any moment of any day might bring +him to her side. + +The days passed, however--empty useless days, frittered away in frivolous +occupations, or wasted in melancholy idleness; and John Saltram did not +come, or came so rarely that the only effect of his visits was to keep up +the fever and restlessness of the widow's mind. + +She had fancied that life would be so bright for her when the day of her +freedom came; that she would reap so rich a harvest of happiness as a +reward for the sacrifice which she had made in marrying old Michael +Branston, and enduring his peevishness and ill-health with tolerable +good-humour during the half-dozen years of their wedded life. She had +fancied this; and now her release had come to her, and was worthless in +her sight, because the one man she cared for had proved himself cold and +indifferent. + +In spite of his coldness, however, she told herself that he loved her, +that he had loved her from the earliest period of their acquaintance. + +She was a poor weak little woman, the veriest spoilt child of fortune, +and she clung to this belief with a fond foolish persistence, a blind +devoted obstinacy, against which the arguments of Mrs. Pallinson were +utterly vain, although that lady devoted a great deal of time and energy +to the agreeable duty which she called "opening dear Adela's eyes about +that dissipated good-for-nothing Mr. Saltram." + +To a correct view of this subject Adela Branston's eyes were not to be +opened in any wise. She was wilfully, resolutely blind, clinging to the +hope that this cruel neglect on John Saltram's part arose only from his +delicacy of feeling, and tender care for her reputation. + +"But O, how I wish that he would come to me!" she said to herself again +and again, as those slow dreary days went by, burdened and weighed down +by the oppressive society of Mrs. Pallinson, as well as by her own sad +thoughts. "My husband has been dead ever so long now, and what need have +we to study the opinion of the world so much? Of course I wouldn't marry +him till a year, or more, after poor Michael's death; but I should like +to see him often, to be sure that he still cares for me as he used to +care--yes, I am sure he used--in the dear old days at Maidenhead. Why +doesn't he come to me? He knows that I love him. He must know that I have +no brighter hope than to make him the master of my fortune; and yet he +goes on in those dismal Temple chambers, toiling at his literary work as +if he had not a thought in the world beyond earning so many pounds a +week." + +This was the perpetual drift of Mrs. Branston's meditations; and in the +absence of any sign or token of regard from John Saltram, all Mrs. +Pallinson's attempts to amuse her, all the fascinations and +accomplishments of the elegant Theobald, were thrown away upon an +unreceptive soil. + +There were not many amusements open to a London public at that dull +season of the year, except the theatres, and for those places of +entertainment Mrs. Pallinson cherished a shuddering aversion. But there +were occasional morning and evening "recitals," or concerts, where the +music for the most part was of a classical and recondite +character--feasts of melody, at which long-buried and forgotten sonatas +of Gluck, or Bach, or Chembini were introduced to a discriminating public +for the first time; and to these Mrs. Pallinson and Theobald conducted +poor Adela Branston, whose musical proclivities had never yet soared into +higher regions than those occupied by the sparkling joyous genius of +Rossini, and to whom the revived sonatas, or the familiar old-established +gems of classical art, were as unintelligible as so much Hebrew or +Syriac. Perhaps they were not much more delightful to Mrs. Pallinson; but +that worthy matron had a profound veneration for the conventionalities of +life, and these classical matinees and recitals seemed to her exactly the +correct sort of thing for the amusement of a young widow whose husband +had not very long ago been consigned to the tomb. + +So poor Adela was dragged hither and thither to gloomy concert-rooms, +where the cold winter's light made the performers look pale and wan, or +to aristocratic drawing-rooms, graciously lent to some favoured pianiste +by their distinguished owners; and so, harassed and weary, but lacking +spirit to oppose her own feeble inclinations to the overpowering force of +Mrs. Pallinson's will, the helpless little widow went submissively +wherever they chose to take her, tormented all the while by the thought +of John Saltram's coldness, and wondering when this cruel time of +probation would be at an end, and he would show himself her devoted slave +once more. It was very weak and foolish to think of him like this, no +doubt; undignified and unwomanly, perhaps; but Adela Branston was little +more than a child in knowledge of the world, and John Saltram was the +only man who had ever touched her heart. She stood quite alone in the +world too, lonely with all her wealth, and there was no one to share her +affection with this man, who had acquired so complete an influence over +her. + +She endured the dreary course of her days patiently enough for a +considerable time, not knowing any means whereby she might release +herself from the society of her kinswoman, or put an end to the +indefatigable attentions of the popular Maida Hill doctor. She would have +gladly offered Mrs. Pallinson a liberal allowance out of her fortune to +buy that lady off, and be her own mistress once more, free to act and +think for herself, had she dared to make such a degrading proposition to +a person of Mrs. Pallinson's dignity. But she could not venture to do +this; and she felt that no one but John Saltram, in the character of her +future husband, could release her from the state of bondage into which +she had weakly suffered herself to fall. In the meantime she defended the +man she loved with an unflinching spirit, resolutely refusing to have +her eyes opened to the worthlessness of his character, and boldly +declaring her disbelief of those sad accounts which Theobald affected to +have heard from well-informed acquaintance of his own, respecting the +follies and dissipations of Mr. Saltram's career, his debts, his love of +gambling, his dealings with money-lenders, and other foibles common to +the rake's progress. + +It was rather a hard battle for the lonely little woman to fight, but she +had fortune on her side; and at the worst, her kinsfolk treated her with +a certain deference, even while they were doing their utmost to worry her +into an untimely grave. If little flatteries, and a perpetual indulgence +in all small matters, such as a foolish nurse might give to a spoilt +child, could have made Adela happy, she had certainly no reason to +complain, for in this manner Mrs. Pallinson was the most devoted and +affectionate of companions. If her darling Adela looked a little paler +than usual, or confessed to suffering from a headache, or owned to being +nervous or out of spirits, Mrs. Pallinson's anxiety knew no bounds, and +Theobald was summoned from Maida Hill without a minute's delay, much to +poor Adela's annoyance. Indeed, she grew in time to deny the headaches, +and the low spirits, or the nervousness resolutely, rather than bring +upon herself a visitation from Mr. Theobald Pallinson; and in spite of +all this care and indulgence she felt herself a prisoner in her own +house, somehow; more dependent than the humblest servant in that spacious +mansion; and she looked out helplessly and hopelessly for some friend +through whose courageous help she might recover her freedom. Perhaps she +only thought of one champion as at all likely to come to her rescue; +indeed, her mind had scarcely room for more than that one image, which +occupied her thoughts at all times. + +Her captivity had lasted for a period which seemed a very long time, +though it was short enough when computed by the ordinary standard of +weeks and months, when a circumstance occurred which gave her a brief +interval of liberty. Mr. Pallinson fell a victim to some slight attack of +low fever; and his mother, who was really most devoted to this paragon of +a son, retired from the citadel in Cavendish Square for a few days in +order to nurse him. It was not that the surgeon's illness was in any way +dangerous, but the mother could not trust her darling to the care of +strangers and hirelings. + +Adela Branston seemed to breathe more freely in that brief holiday. +Relieved from Mrs. Pallinson's dismal presence, life appeared brighter +and pleasanter all at once; a faint colour came back to the pale cheeks, +and the widow was even beguiled into laughter by some uncomplimentary +observations which her confidential maid ventured upon with reference to +the absent lady. + +"I'm sure the house itself seems lighter and more cheerful-like without +her, ma'am," said this young person, who was of a vivacious temperament, +and upon whom the dowager's habitual dreariness had been a heavy +affliction; "and you're looking all the better already for not being +worried by her." + +"Berners, you really must not say such things," Mrs. Branston exclaimed +reproachfully. "You ought to know that my cousin is most kind and +thoughtful, and does everything for the best." + +"O, of course, ma'am; but some people's best is quite as bad as other +people's worst," the maid answered sharply; "and as to kindness and +thoughtfulness, Mrs. Pallinson is a great deal too kind and thoughtful, I +think; for her kindness and thoughtfulness won't allow you a moment's +rest. And then, as if anybody couldn't see through her schemes about that +precious son of hers--with his finicking affected ways!" + +And at this point the vivacious Berners gave a little imitation of +Theobald Pallinson, with which liberty Adela pretended to be very much +offended, laughing at the performance nevertheless. + +Mrs. Branston passed the first day of her freedom in luxurious idleness. +It was such an inexpressible relief not to hear the perpetual click of +Mrs. Pallinson's needle travelling in and out of the canvas, as that +irreproachable matron sat at her embroidery-frame, on which a group of +spaniels, after Sir Edwin Landseer, were slowly growing into the fluffy +life of Berlin wool; a still greater relief, not to be called upon to +respond appropriately to the dull platitudes which formed the lady's +usual conversation, when she was not abusing John Saltram, or sounding +the praises of her beloved son. + +The day was a long one for Adela, in spite of the pleasant sense of +freedom; for she had begun the morning with the thought of what a +delightful thing it would be if some happy accident should bring Mr. +Saltram to Cavendish-square on this particular day; and having once +started with this idea, she found herself counting the hours and +half-hours with impatient watchfulness until the orthodox time for +visiting was quite over, and she could no longer beguile herself with the +hope that he would come. She wanted so much to see him alone. Since her +husband's death, they had met only in the presence of Mrs. Pallinson, +beneath the all-pervading eye and within perpetual ear-shot of that +oppressive matron. Adela fancied that if they could only meet for one +brief half-hour face to face, without the restraint of that foreign +presence, all misunderstanding would be at an end between them, and John +Saltram's affection for her, in which she believed with a fond credulity, +would reveal itself in all its truth and fulness. + +"I daresay it is my cousin Pallinson who has kept him away from me all +this time," Adela said to herself with a very impatient feeling about +her cousin Pallinson. "I know how intolerant he is of any one he +dislikes; and no doubt he has taken a dislike to her; she has done +everything to provoke it, indeed, by her coldness and rudeness to him." + +That day went by, and the second and third day of the dowager's absence; +but there was no sign of John Saltram. Adela thought of writing to ask +him to come to her; but that seemed such a desperate step, she could not +think how she should word the letter, or how she could give it to one of +the servants to post. No, she would contrive to post it herself, if she +did bring herself to write. And then she thought of a still more +desperate step. What if she were to call upon Mr. Saltram at his Temple +chambers? It would be a most unwarrantable thing for her to do, of +course; an act which would cause Mrs. Pallinson's hair to stand on end in +virtuous horror, could it by any means come to her knowledge; but Adela +did not intend that it ever should be known to Mrs. Pallinson; and about +the opinion of the world in the abstract, Mrs. Branston told herself that +she cared very little. What was the use of being a rich widow, if she was +to be hedged-in by the restrictions which encompass the steps of an +unwedded damsel just beginning life? Emboldened by the absence of her +dowager kinswoman, Mrs. Branston felt herself independent, free to do a +foolish thing, and ready to abide the hazard of her folly. + +So, upon the fourth day of her freedom, despairing of any visit from John +Saltram, Adela Branston ordered the solemn-looking butler to send for a +cab, much to the surprise of that portly individual. + +"Josephs has just been round asking about the carriage, mum," he said, in +a kind of suggestive way; "whether you'd please to want the b'rouche or +the broom, and whether you'd drive before or after luncheon." + +"I shall not want the carriage this morning; send for a cab, if you +please, Parker. I am going into the City, and don't care about taking the +horses there." + +The solemn Parker bowed and retired, not a little mystified by this +order. His mistress was a kind little woman enough, but such extreme +consideration for equine comfort is hardly a feminine attribute, and Mr. +Parker was puzzled. He told Josephs the coachman as much when he had +dispatched an underling to fetch the cleanest four-wheeler procurable at +an adjacent stand. + +"She's a-going to her banker's I suppose," he said meditatively; "going +to make some new investments perhaps. Women are always a-fidgeting and +chopping and changing with their money." + +Mrs. Branston kept the cab waiting half an hour, according to the fairest +reckoning. She was very particular about her toilette that morning, and +inclined to be discontented with the sombre plainness of her widow's +garb, and to fancy that the delicate border of white crape round her +girlish face made her look pale, not to say sallow. She came downstairs +at last, however, looking very graceful and pretty in her trailing +mourning robes and fashionable crape bonnet, in which the profoundest +depth of woe was made to express itself with a due regard to elegance. +She came down to the homely hackney vehicle attended by the obsequious +Berners, whose curiosity was naturally excited by this solitary +expedition. + +"Where shall I tell the man to drive, mum?" the butler asked with the +cab-door in his hand. + +Mrs. Branston felt herself blushing, and hesitated a little before she +replied. + +"The Union Bank, Chancery-lane. Tell him to go by the Strand and +Temple-bar." + +"I can't think what's come to my mistress," Miss Berners remarked as the +cab drove off. "Catch _me_ driving in one of those nasty vulgar +four-wheel cabs, if I had a couple of carriages and a couple of pairs of +horses at my disposal. There's some style about a hansom; but I never +could abide those creepy-crawley four-wheelers." + +"I admire your taste, Miss Berners; and a dashing young woman like you's +a credit to a hansom," replied Mr. Parker gallantly. "But there's no +accounting for the vagaries of the female sex; and I fancy somehow Mrs. +B. didn't want any of us to know where she was going; she coloured-up so +when I asked her for the direction. You may depend there's something up, +Jane Berners. She's going to see some poor relation perhaps--Mile-end or +Kentish-town way--and was ashamed to give the address." + +"I don't believe she has any relations, except old Mother Pallinson and +her son," Miss Berners answered. + +And thereupon the handmaiden withdrew to her own regions with a +discontented air, as one who had been that day cheated out of her +legitimate rights. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +ONLY A WOMAN. + + +The cabman did not hurry his tall raw-boned steed, and the drive to +Temple-bar seemed a very long one to Adela Branston, whose mind was +disturbed by the consciousness that she was doing a foolish thing. Many +times during the journey, she was on the point of stopping the man and +telling him to drive back to Cavendish-square; but in spite of these +moments of doubt and vacillation she suffered the vehicle to proceed, and +only stopped the man when they were close to Temple-bar. + +Here she told him where she wanted to go; upon which he plunged down an +obscure side street, and stopped at one of the entrances to the Temple. +Here Mrs. Branston alighted, and had to inquire her way to Mr. Saltram's +chambers. She was so unaccustomed to be out alone, that this expedition +seemed something almost awful to her when she found herself helpless and +solitary in that strange locality. She had fancied that the cab would +drive straight to Mr. Saltram's door. + +The busy lawyers flitting across those grave courts and passages turned +to glance curiously at the pretty little widow. She had the air of a +person not used to be on foot and unattended--a kind of aerial butterfly +air, as of one who belonged to the useless and ornamental class of +society; utterly different from the appearance of such humble female +pedestrians as were wont to make the courts and alleys of the Temple a +short-cut in their toilsome journeys to and fro. Happily a porter +appeared, who was able to direct her to Mr. Saltram's chambers, and +civilly offered to escort her there; for which service she rewarded him +with half-a-crown, instead of the sixpence which he expected as his +maximum recompense; she was so glad to have reached the shelter of the +dark staircase in safety. The men whom she had met had frightened her by +their bold admiring stares; and yet she was pleased to think that she was +looking pretty. + +The porter did not leave her until she had been admitted by Mr. Saltram's +boy, and then retired, promising to be in the way to see her back to her +carriage. How the poor little thing trembled when she found herself on +the threshold of that unfamiliar door! What a horrible dingy lobby it +was! and how she pitied John Saltram for having to live in such place! He +was at home and alone, the boy told her; would she please to send in her +card? + +No, Mrs. Branston declined to send in her card. The boy could say that a +lady wished to see Mr. Saltram. + +The truth was, she wanted to surprise this man; to see how her +unlooked-for presence would affect him. She fancied herself beloved by +him, poor soul! and that she would be able to read some evidence of his +joy at seeing her in this unexpected manner. + +The boy went in to his master and announced the advent of a lady, the +first he had ever seen in those dismal premises. + +John Saltram started up from his desk and came with a hurried step to the +door, very pale and almost breathless. + +"A lady!" he gasped, and then fell back a pace or two on seeing Adela, +with a look which was very much like disappointment. + +"You here, Mrs. Branston!" he exclaimed; "I--you are the last person in +the world I should have expected to see." + +Perhaps he felt that there was a kind of rudeness in this speech, for he +added hastily, and with a faint smile,-- + +"Of course I am not the less honoured by your visit." + +He moved a chair forward, the least dilapidated of the three or four +which formed his scanty stock, and placed it near the neglected fire, +which he tried to revive a little by a judicious use of the poker. + +"You expected to see some one else, I think," Adela said; quite unable to +hide her wounded feelings. + +She had seen the eagerness in his pale face when he came to the door, and +the disappointed look with which he had recognised her. + +"Scarcely; but I expected to receive news of some one else." + +"Some one you are very anxious to hear about, I should imagine, from your +manner just now," said Adela, who could not forbear pressing the question +a little. + +"Yes, Mrs. Branston, some one about whom I am anxious; a relation, in +short." + +She looked at him with a puzzled air. She had never heard him talk of his +relations, had indeed supposed that he stood almost alone in the world; +but there was no reason that it should be so, except his silence on the +subject. She watched him for some moments in silence, as he stood leaning +against the opposite angle of the chimney-piece waiting for her to speak. +He was looking very ill, much changed since she had seen him last, +haggard and worn, with the air of a man who had not slept properly for +many nights. There was an absent far-away look in his eyes: and Adela +Branston felt all at once that her presence was nothing to him; that this +desperate step which she had taken had no more effect upon him than the +commonest event of every-day life; in a word, that he did not love her. A +cold deathlike feeling came over her as she thought this. She had set her +heart upon this man's love, and had indeed some justification for +supposing that it was hers. It seemed to her that life was useless--worse +than useless, odious and unendurable--without it. + +But even while she was thinking this, with a cold blank misery in her +heart, she had to invent some excuse for this unseemly visit. + +"I have waited so anxiously for you to call," she said at last, in a +nervous hesitating way, "and I began to fear that you must be ill, and I +wished to consult you about the management of my affairs. My lawyers +worry me so with questions which I don't know how to answer, and I have +so few friends in the world whom I can trust except you; so at last I +screwed up my courage to call upon you." + +"I am deeply honoured by your confidence, Mrs. Branston," John Saltram +answered, looking at her gravely with those weary haggard eyes, with the +air of a man who brings his thoughts back to common life from some +far-away region with an effort. "If my advice or assistance can be of any +use to you, they are completely at your service. What is this business +about which your solicitor bothers you?" + +"I'll explain that to you directly," Adela answered, taking some letters +from her pocket-book. "How good you are! I knew that you would help me; +but tell me first why you have never been to Cavendish-square in all this +long time. I fear I was right; you have been ill, have you not?" + +"Not exactly ill, but very much worried and overworked." + +A light dawned on Adela Branston's troubled mind. She began to think that +Mr. Saltram's strange absent manner, his apparent indifference to her +presence, might arise from preoccupation, caused by those pecuniary +difficulties from which the Pallinsons declared him so constant a +sufferer. Yes, she told herself, it was trouble of this kind that +oppressed him, that had banished him from her all this time. He was too +generous to repair his shattered fortunes by means of her money; he was +too proud to confess his fallen state. + +A tender pity took possession of her. All that was most sentimental in +her nature was awakened by the idea of John Saltram's generosity. What +was the use of her fortune, if she could not employ it for the relief of +the man she loved? + +"You are so kind to me, Mr. Saltram," she faltered, after a troubled +pause; "so ready to help me in my perplexities, I only wish you would +allow me to be of some use to you in yours, if you have any perplexities; +and I suppose everybody has, of some kind or other. I should be so proud +if you would give me your confidence--so proud and happy!" Her voice +trembled a little as she said this, looking up at him all the while with +soft confiding blue eyes, the fair delicate face looking its prettiest in +the coquettish widow's head-gear. + +A man must have been harder of heart than John Saltram who could remain +unmoved by a tenderness so evident. This man was touched, and deeply. The +pale careworn face grew more troubled, the firmly-moulded lips quivered +ever so little, as he looked down at the widow's pleading countenance; +and then he turned his head aside with a sudden half-impatient movement. + +"My dear Mrs. Branston, you are too good to me; I am unworthy, I am in +every way unworthy of your kindness." + +"You are not unworthy, and that is no answer to my question; only an +excuse to put me off. We are such old friends, Mr. Saltram, you might +trust me. You own that you have been worried--overworked--worried about +money matters, perhaps. I know that gentlemen are generally subject to +that kind of annoyance; and you know how rich I am, how little +employment I have for my money, though you can never imagine how +worthless and useless it seems to me. Why won't you trust me? why won't +you let me be your banker?" + +She blushed crimson as she made this offer, dreading that the man she +loved would turn upon her fiercely in a passion of offended pride. She +sat before him trembling, dreading the might of his indignation. + +But there was no anger in John Saltram's face when he looked round at +her; only grief and an expression that was like pity. + +"The offer is like you," he said with suppressed feeling; "but the +worries of which I spoke just now are not money troubles. I do not +pretend to deny that my affairs are embarrassed, and have been for so +long that entanglement has become their normal state; but if they were +ever so much more desperate, I could not afford to trade upon your +generosity. No, Mrs. Branston, that is just the very last thing in this +world that I could consent to do." + +"It is very cruel of you to say that," Adela answered, with the tears +gathering in her clear blue eyes, and with a little childish look of +vexation, which would have seemed infinitely charming in the eyes of a +man who loved her. "There can be no reason for your saying this, except +that you do not think me worthy of your confidence--that you despise me +too much to treat me like a friend. If I were that Mr. Fenton now, whom +you care for so much, you would not treat me like this." + +"I never borrowed a sixpence from Gilbert Fenton in my life, though I +know that his purse is always open to me. But friendship is apt to end +when money transactions begin. Believe me, I feel your goodness, Mrs. +Branston, your womanly generosity; but it is my own unworthiness that +comes between me and your kindness. I can accept nothing from you but the +sympathy which it is your nature to give to all who need it." + +"I do indeed sympathise with you; but it seems so hard that you will not +consent to make some use of all that money which is lying idle. It would +make me so happy if I could think it were useful to you; but I dare not +say any more. I have said too much already, perhaps; only I hope you will +not think very badly of me for having acted on impulse in this way." + +"Think badly of you, my dear kind soul! What can I think, except that you +are one of the most generous of women?" + +"And about these other troubles, Mr. Saltram, which have no relation to +money matters; you will not give me your confidence?" + +"There is nothing that I can confide in you, Mrs. Branston. Others are +involved in the matter of which I spoke, I am not free to talk about it." + +Poor Adela felt herself repulsed at every point. It seemed very hard. +Had she been mistaken about this man all the time? mistaken and deluded +in those old happy days during her husband's lifetime, when he had been +so constant a visitor at the river-side villa, and had seemed exactly +what a man might seem who cherished a tenderness which he dared not +reveal in the present, but which in a brighter future might blossom into +the full-blown flower of love? + +"And now about your own affairs, my dear Mrs. Branston?" John Saltram said +with a forced cheerfulness, drawing his chair up to the table and +assuming a business-like manner. "These tiresome letters of your +lawyers'; let me see what use I can be in the matter." + +Adela Branston produced the letters with rather an absent air. They were +letters about very insignificant affairs; the renewal of a lease or two; +the reinvestment of a sum of money that had been lent on mortgage, and +had fallen in lately; transactions that scarcely called for the +employment of Mr. Saltram's intellectual powers. But he gave them very +serious attention nevertheless, well aware, all the time that this +business consultation was only the widow's excuse for her visit; and +while she seemed to be listening to his advice, her eyes were wandering +round the room all the time, noting the dust and confusion, the +soda-water bottles huddled in one corner, the pile of books heaped in a +careless mass in another, the half-empty brandy-bottle between a couple of +stone ink-jars on the mantelpiece. She was thinking what a dreary place +it was, and that there was the stamp of decay and ruin somehow upon the +man who occupied it. And she loved him so well, and would have given all +the world to have redeemed his life. + +It is doubtful whether Adela Branston heard one syllable of that counsel +which Mr. Saltram administered so gravely. Her mind was full of the +failure of this desperate step which she had taken. He seemed farther +from her now than before they had met, obstinately adverse to profit by +her friendship, cold and cruel. + +"You will come and dine with us very soon, I hope," she said as she rose +to go, "My cousin, Mrs. Pallinson, will be home in a day or two. She has +been nursing her son for the last few days; but he is much better, and I +expect her back immediately. We shall be so pleased to see you; you will +name an early day, won't you? Monday shall we say, or Sunday? You can't +plead business on Sunday." + +"My dear Mrs. Branston, I really am not well enough for visiting." + +"But dining with us does not come under the head of visiting. We will be +quite alone, if you wish it. I shall be hurt if you refuse to come." + +"If you put it in that way, I cannot refuse; but I fear you will find me +wretched company." + +"I am not afraid of that. And now I must ask you to forgive me for +having wasted so much of your time, before I say good-morning." + +"There has been no time of mine wasted. I have learned to know your +generous heart even better than I knew it before, and I think I always +knew that it was a noble one. Believe me, I am not ungrateful or +indifferent to so much goodness." + +He accompanied her downstairs, and through the courts and passages to the +place where she had left her cab, in spite of the ticket-porter, who was +hanging about ready to act as escort. He saw her safely seated in the +hackney vehicle, and then walked slowly back to his chambers, thinking +over the interview which had just concluded. + +"Poor little soul," he said softly to himself; "dear little soul! There +are men who would go to the end of the world for a woman like that; yes, +if she had not a sixpence. And to think that I, who thought myself so +strong in the wisdom of the world, should have let such a prize slip +through my fingers? For what? For a fancy, for a caprice that has brought +confusion and shame upon me--disappointment and regret." + +He breathed a profound sigh. From first to last life had been more or +less a disappointment to this man. He had lived alone; lived for himself, +despising the ambitious aims and lofty hopes of other men, thinking the +best prizes this world can give scarcely worth that long struggle which +is so apt to end in failure; perfect success was so rare a result, it +seemed to him. He made a rough calculation of his chances in any given +line when he was still fresh from college, and finding the figures +against him, gave up all thoughts of doing great things. By-and-by, when +his creditors grew pressing and it was necessary for him to earn money in +some way, he found that it was no trouble to him to write; so he wrote +with a spasmodic kind of industry, but a forty-horse power when he chose +to exercise it. For a long time he had no thought of winning name or fame +in literature. It was only of late it had dawned upon him that he had +wasted labour and talent, out of which a wiser man would have created for +himself a reputation; and that reputation is worth something, if only as +a means of making money. + +This conviction once arrived at, he had worked hard at a book which he +thought must needs make some impression upon the world whenever he could +afford time to complete it. In the meanwhile his current work occupied so +much of his life, that he was fain to lay the _magnum opus_ aside every +now and then, and it still needed a month or two of quiet labour. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +AT FAULT. + + +Gilbert Fenton took up his abode at the dilapidated old inn at Crosber, +thinking that he might be freer there than at the Grange; a dismal place +of sojourn under the brightest circumstances, but unspeakably dreary for +him who had only the saddest thoughts for his companions. He wanted to be +on the spot, to be close at hand to hear tidings of the missing girl, and +he wanted also to be here in the event of John Holbrook's return--to come +face to face with this man, if possible, and to solve that question which +had sorely perplexed him of late--the mystery that hung about the man who +had wronged him. + +He consulted Ellen Carley as to the probability of Mr. Holbrook's return. +The girl seemed to think it very unlikely that Marian's husband would +ever again appear at the Grange. His last departure had appeared like a +final one. He had paid every sixpence he owed in the neighbourhood, and +had been liberal in his donations to the servants and hangers-on of the +place. Marian's belongings he had left to Ellen Carley's care, telling +her to pack them, and keep them in readiness for being forwarded to any +address he might send. But his own books and papers he had carefully +removed. + +"Had he many books here?" Gilbert asked. + +"Not many," the girl answered; "but he was a very studious gentleman. He +spent almost all his time shut up in his own room reading and writing." + +"Indeed!" + +In this respect the habits of the unknown corresponded exactly with those +of John Saltram. Gilbert Fenton's heart beat a little quicker at the +thought that he was coming nearer by a step to the solution of that +question which was always uppermost in his mind now. + +"Do you know if he wrote books--if he was what is called a literary +man--living by his pen?" he asked presently. + +"I don't know; I never heard his wife say so. But Mrs. Holbrook was +always reserved about him and his history. I think he had forbidden her +to talk about his affairs. I know I used to fancy it was a dull life for +her, poor soul, sitting in his room hour after hour, working while he +wrote. He used not to allow her to be with him at all at first, but +little by little she persuaded him to let her sit with him, promising not +to disturb him by so much as a word; and she never did. She seemed quite +happy when she was with him, contented, and proud to think that her +presence was no hindrance to him." + +"And you think he loved her, don't you?" + +"At first, yes; but I think a kind of weariness came over him +afterwards, and that she saw it, and almost broke her heart about it. +She was so simple and innocent, poor darling, it wasn't easy for her to +hide anything she felt." + +Gilbert asked the bailiff's daughter to describe Mr. Holbrook to him, as +she had done more than once before. But this time he questioned her +closely, and contrived that her description of this man's outward +semblance should be especially minute and careful. + +Yes, the picture which arose before him as Ellen Carley spoke was the +picture of John Saltram. The description seemed in every particular to +apply to the face and figure of his one chosen friend. But then all such +verbal pictures are at best vague and shadowy, and Gilbert knew that he +carried that one image in his mind, and would be apt unconsciously to +twist the girl's words into that one shape. He asked if any picture or +photograph of Mr. Holbrook had been left at the Grange, and Ellen Carley +told him no, she had never even seen a portrait of Marian's husband. + +He was therefore fain to be content with the description which seemed so +exactly to fit the friend he loved, the friend to whom he had clung with +a deeper, stronger feeling since this miserable suspicion had taken root +in his mind. + +"I think I could have forgiven him if he had come between us in a bold +and open way," he said to himself, brooding over this harassing doubt of +his friend; "yes, I think I could have forgiven him, in spite of the +bitterness of losing her. But to steal her from me with cowardly +treacherous secrecy, to hide my treasure in an obscure corner, and then +grow weary of her, and blight her fair young life with his coldness,--can +I forgive him these things? can all the memory of the past plead with me +for him when I think of these things? O God, grant that I am mistaken; +that it is some other man who has done this, and not John Saltram; not +the man I have loved and honoured for fifteen years of my life!" + +But his suspicions were not to be put away, not to be driven out of his +mind, let him argue against them as he might. He resolved, therefore, +that as soon as he should have made every effort and taken every possible +means towards the recovery of the missing girl, he would make it his +business next to bring this thing home to John Saltram, or acquit him for +ever. + +It is needless to dwell upon that weary work, which seemed destined to +result in nothing but disappointment. The local constabulary and the +London police alike exerted all their powers to obtain some trace of +Marian Holbrook's lost footsteps; but no clue to the painful mystery was +to be found. From the moment when she vanished from the eyes of the +servant-woman watching her departure from the Grange gate, she seemed to +have disappeared altogether from the sight of mankind. If by some +witchcraft she had melted into the dim autumnal mist that hung about the +river-bank, she could not have left less trace, or vanished more +mysteriously than she had done. The local constabulary gave in very soon, +in spite of Gilbert Fenton's handsome payment in the present, and noble +promises of reward in the future. The local constabulary were honest and +uninventive. They shook their heads gloomily, and said "Drownded." + +"But the river has been dragged," Gilbert cried eagerly, "and there has +been nothing found." + +He shuddered at the thought of that which might have been hauled to shore +in the foul weedy net. The face he loved, changed, disfigured, awful--the +damp clinging hair. + +"Holes," replied the chief of the local constabulary, sententiously; +"there's holes in that there river where you might hide half a dozen +drownded men, and never hope to find 'em, no more than if they was at the +bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. Lord bless your heart, sir, you Londoners +don't know what a river is, in a manner of speaking," added the man, who +was most likely unacquainted with the existence of the Thames, compared +with which noble stream this sluggish Hampshire river was the veriest +ditch. "I've known a many poor creatures drownded in that river, and +never one of 'em to come to light--not that the river was dragged for +_them_. Their friends weren't of the dragging class, they weren't." + +The London police were more hopeful and more delusive. They were always +hearing of some young lady newly arrived at some neighbouring town or +village who seemed to answer exactly to the description of Mrs. Holbrook. +And, behold, when Gilbert Fenton hurried off post-haste to the village or +town, and presented himself before the lady in question, he found for the +most part that she was ten years older than Marian, and as utterly unlike +her as it was possible for one Englishwoman to be unlike another. + +He possessed a portrait of the missing girl--a carefully finished +photograph, which had been given to him in the brief happy time when she +was his promised wife; and he caused this image to be multiplied and +distributed wherever the search for Marian was being made. He neglected +no possible means by which he might hope to obtain tidings; advertising +continually, in town and country, and varying his advertisements in such +a manner as to insure attention either from the object of his inquiries, +or any one acquainted with her. + +But all his trouble was in vain. No reply, or, what was worse, worthless +and delusive replies, came to his advertisements. The London police, who +had pretended to be so hopeful at first, began to despair in a visible +manner, having put all their machinery into play, and failed to obtain +even the most insignificant result. They were fain to confess at last +that they could only come to pretty much the same conclusion as that +arrived at by their inferiors, the rustic officials; and agreed that in +all probability the river hid the secret of Marian Holbrook's fate. She +had been the victim of either crime or accident. Who should say which? +The former seemed the more likely, as she had vanished in broad daylight, +when it was scarcely possible that her footsteps could go astray; while +in that lonely neighbourhood a crime was never impossible. + +"She had a watch and chain, I suppose?" the officer inquired. "Ladies +will wear 'em." + +Gilbert ascertained from Ellen Carley that Marian had always worn her +watch and chain, had worn them when she left the Grange for the last +time. She had a few other trinkets too, which she wore habitually, quaint +old-fashioned things, of some value. + +How well Gilbert remembered those little family treasures, which she had +exhibited to him at Captain Sedgewick's bidding! + +"Ah," muttered the officer when he heard this, "quite enough to cost her +her life, if she met with one of your ugly customers. I've known a murder +committed for the sake of three-and-sixpence in my time; and pushing a +young woman into the river don't count for murder among that sort of +people. You see, some one may come by and fish her out again; so it can't +well be more than manslaughter." + +A dull horror came over Gilbert Fenton as he heard these professional +speculations, but at the worst he could not bring himself to believe that +these men were right, and that the woman he loved had been the victim of +some obscure wretch's greed, slain in broad daylight for the sake of a +few pounds' worth of jewelry. + +When everything had been done that was possible to be done in that part +of the country, Mr. Fenton went back to London. But not before he had +become very familiar with the household at the Grange. From the first he +had liked and trusted Ellen Carley, deeply touched by her fidelity to +Marian. He made a point of dropping in at the Grange every evening, when +not away from Crosber following up some delusive track started by his +metropolitan counsellors. He always went there with a faint hope that +Ellen Carley might have something to tell him, and with a vague notion +that John Holbrook might return unexpectedly, and that they two might +meet in the old farm-house. But Mr. Holbrook did not reappear, nor had +Ellen any tidings for her evening visitor; though she thought of little +else than Marian, and never let a day pass without making some small +effort to obtain a clue to that mystery which now seemed so hopeless. +Gilbert grew to be quite at home in the little wainscoted parlour at the +Grange, smoking his cigar there nightly in a tranquil contemplative mood, +while Mr. Carley puffed vigorously at his long clay pipe. There was a +special charm for him in the place that had so long been Marian's home. +He felt nearer to her, somehow, under that roof, and as if he must needs +be on the right road to some discovery. The bailiff, although prone to +silence, seemed to derive considerable gratification from Mr. Fenton's +visits, and talked to that gentleman with greater freedom than he was +wont to display in his intercourse with mankind. Ellen was not always +present during the whole of the evening, and in her absence the bailiff +would unbosom himself to Gilbert on the subject of his daughter's +undutiful conduct; telling him what a prosperous marriage the girl might +make if she had only common sense enough to see her own interests in the +right light, and wasn't the most obstinate self-willed hussy that ever +set her own foolish whims and fancies against a father's wishes. + +"But a woman's fancies sometimes mean a very deep feeling, Mr. Carley," +pleaded Gilbert; "and what worldly-wise people call a good home, is not +always a happy one. It's a hard thing for a young woman to marry against +her inclination." + +"Humph!" muttered the bailiff in a surly tone. "It's a harder thing for +her to marry a pauper, I should think, and to bring a regiment of +children into the world, always wanting shoes and stockings. But you're a +bachelor, you see, Mr. Fenton, and can't be expected to know what shoes +and stockings are. Now there happens to be a friend of mine--a steady, +respectable, middle-aged man--who worships the ground my girl walks on, +and could make her mistress of as good a house as any within twenty miles +of this, and give a home to her father in his old age, into the bargain; +for I'm only a servant here, and it can't be expected that I am to go on +toiling and slaving about this place for ever. I don't say but what I've +saved a few pounds, but I haven't saved enough to keep me out of the +workhouse." + +This seemed to Gilbert rather a selfish manner of looking at a daughter's +matrimonial prospects, and he ventured to hint as much in a polite way. +But the bailiff was immovable. + +"What a young woman wants is a good home," he said decisively; "whether +she has the sense to know it herself, or whether she hasn't, that's what +she's got to look for in life." + +Gilbert had not spent many evenings at the Grange before he had the +honour of being introduced to the estimable middle-aged suitor, whose +claims Mr. Carley was always setting forth to his daughter. He saw +Stephen Whitelaw, and that individual's colourless expressionless +countenance, redeemed from total blankness only by the cunning visible in +the small grey eyes, impressed him with instant distrust and dislike. + +"God forbid that frank warm-hearted girl should ever be sacrificed to +such a fellow as this," he said to himself, as he sat on the opposite +side of the hearth, smoking his cigar, and meditatively contemplating Mr. +Whitelaw conversing in his slow solemn fashion with the man who was so +eager to be his father-in-law. + +In the course of that first evening of their acquaintance, Gilbert was +surprised to see how often Stephen Whitelaw looked at him, with a +strangely-attentive expression, that had something furtive in it, some +hidden meaning, as it seemed to him. Whenever Gilbert spoke, the farmer +looked up at him, always with the same sharp inquisitive glance, the same +cunning twinkle in his small eyes. And every time he happened to look at +Mr. Whitelaw during that evening, he found the watchful eyes turned +towards him in the same unpleasant manner. The sensation caused by this +kind of surveillance on the part of the farmer was so obnoxious to him, +that at parting he took occasion to speak of it in a friendly way. + +"I fancy you and I must have met before to-night, Mr. Whitelaw," he said; +"or that you must have some notion to that effect. You've looked at me +with an amount of interest my personal merits could scarcely call for." + +"No, no, sir," the farmer answered in his usual slow deliberate way; "it +isn't that; I never set eyes on you before I came into this room +to-night. But you see, Ellen, she's interested in you, and I take an +interest in any one she takes to. And we've all of us thought so much +about your searching for that poor young lady that's missing, and taking +such pains, and being so patient-like where another would have given in +at the first set-off--so, altogether, you're a general object of +interest, you see." + +Gilbert did not appear particularly flattered by this compliment. He +received it at first with rather an angry look, and then, after a pause, +was vexed with himself for having been annoyed by the man's clumsy +expression of sympathy--for it was sympathy, no doubt, which Mr. Whitelaw +wished to express. + +"It has been sad work, so far," he said. "I suppose you can give me no +hint, no kind of advice as to any step to be taken in the future." + +"Lord bless you, no sir. Everything that could be done was done before +you came here. Mr. Holbrook didn't leave a stone unturned. He did his +duty as a man and a husband, sir. The poor young lady was +drowned--there's no doubt about that." + +"I don't believe it," Gilbert said, with a quiet resolute air, which +seemed quite to startle Mr. Whitelaw. + +"You don't believe she was drowned! You mean to say you think she's +alive, then?" he asked, with unusual sharpness and quickness of speech. + +"I have a firm conviction that she still lives; that, with God's +blessing, I shall see her again." + +"Well, sir," Mr. Whitelaw replied, relapsing into his accustomed +slowness, and rubbing his clumsy chin with his still clumsier hand, in a +thoughtful manner, "of course it ain't my place to go against any +gentleman's convictions--far from it; but if you see Mrs. Holbrook before +the dead rise out of their graves, my name isn't Stephen Whitelaw. You +may waste your time and your trouble, and you may spend your money as it +was so much water, but set eyes upon that missing lady you never will; +take my word for it, or don't take my word for it, as you please." + +Gilbert wondered at the man's earnestness. Did he really feel some kind +of benevolent interest in the fate of a helpless woman, or was it only a +vulgar love of the marvellous and horrible that moved him? Gilbert leaned +to the latter opinion, and was by no means inclined to give Stephen +Whitelaw credit for any surplus stock of benevolence. He saw a good deal +more of Ellen Carley's suitor in the course of his evening visits to the +Grange, and had ample opportunity for observing Mr. Whitelaw's mode of +courtship, which was by no means of the demonstrative order, consisting +in a polite silence towards the object of his affections, broken only by +one or two clumsy but florid compliments, delivered in a deliberate but +semi-jocose manner. The owner of Wyncomb Farm had no idea of making hard +work of his courtship. He had been angled for by so many damsels, and +courted by so many fathers and mothers, that he fancied he had but to say +the word when the time came, and the thing would be done. Any evidence of +avoidance, indifference, or even dislike upon Ellen Carley's part, +troubled him in the smallest degree. He had heard people talk of young +Randall's fancy for her, and of her liking for him, but he knew that her +father meant to set his heel upon any nonsense of this kind; and he did +not for a moment imagine it possible that any girl would resolutely +oppose her father's will, and throw away such good fortune as he could +offer her--to ride in her own chaise-cart, and wear a silk gown always on +Sundays, to say nothing of a gold watch and chain; and Mr. Whitelaw meant +to endow his bride with a ponderous old-fashioned timepiece and heavy +brassy-looking cable which had belonged to his mother. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +BAFFLED, NOT BEATEN. + + +The time came when Gilbert Fenton was fain to own to himself that there +was no more to be done down in Hampshire: professional science and his +own efforts had been alike futile. If she whom he sought still lived--and +he had never for a moment suffered himself to doubt this--it was more +than likely that she was far away from Crosber Grange, that there had +been some motive for her sudden flight, unaccountable as that flight +might seem in the absence of any clue to the mystery. + +Every means of inquiry being exhausted in Hampshire, there was nothing +left to Gilbert but to return to London--that marvellous city, where +there always seems the most hope of finding the lost, wide as the +wilderness is. + +"In London I shall have clever detectives always at my service," Gilbert +thought; "in London I may be able to solve the question of John +Holbrook's identity." + +So, apart from the fact that his own affairs necessitated his prompt +return to the great city, Gilbert had another motive for leaving the dull +rural neighbourhood where he had wasted so many anxious hours, so much +thought and care. + +For the rest, he knew that Ellen Carley would be faithful--always on the +watch for any clue to the mystery of Marian Holbrook's fate, always ready +to receive the wanderer with open arms, should any happy chance bring her +back to the Grange. Assured of this, he felt less compunction in turning +his back upon the spot where his lost love had vanished from the eyes of +men. + +Before leaving, he gave Ellen a letter for Marian's husband, in the +improbable event of that gentleman's reappearance at the Grange--a few +simple earnest lines, entreating Mr. Holbrook to believe in the writer's +faithful and brotherly affection for his wife, and to meet him in London +on an early occasion, in order that they might together concert fresh +means for bringing about her restoration to her husband and home. He +reminded Mr. Holbrook of his friendship for Captain Sedgewick, and that +good man's confidence in him, and declared himself bound by his respect +for the dead to be faithful to the living--faithful in all forgiveness of +any wrong done him in the past. + +He went back to London cruelly depressed by the failure of his efforts, +and with a blank dreary feeling that there was little more for him to do, +except to wait the working of Providence, with the faint hope that one of +those happy accidents which sometimes bring about a desired result when +all human endeavour has been in vain, might throw a sudden light on +Marian Holbrook's fate. + +During the whole of that homeward journey he brooded an those dark +suspicions of Mr. Holbrook which Ellen Carley had let fall in their +earlier interviews. He had checked the girl on these occasions, and had +prevented the full utterance of her thoughts, generously indignant that +any suspicion of foul play should attach to Marian's husband, and utterly +incredulous of such a depth of guilt as that at which the girl's hints +pointed; but now that he was leaving Hampshire, he felt vexed with +himself for not having urged her to speak freely--not having considered +her suspicions, however preposterous those suspicions might have appeared +to him. + +Marian's disappearance had taken a darker colour in his mind since that +time. Granted that she had left the Grange of her own accord, having some +special reason for leaving secretly, at whose bidding would she have so +acted except her husband's--she who stood so utterly alone, without a +friend in the world? But what possible motive could Mr. Holbrook have had +for such an underhand course--for making a conspiracy and a mystery out +of so simple a fact as the removal of his wife from a place whence he was +free to remove her at any moment? Fair and honest motive for such a +course there could be none. Was it possible, looking at the business from +a darker point of view, to imagine any guilty reason for the carrying out +of such a plot? If this man had wanted to bring about a life-long +severance between himself and his wife, to put her away somewhere, to +keep her hidden from the eyes of the world--in plainer words, to get rid +of her--might not this pretence of losing her, this affectation of +distress at her loss, be a safe way of accomplishing his purpose? Who +else was interested in doing her any wrong? Who else could have had +sufficient power over her to beguile her away from her home? + +Pondering on these questions throughout all that weary journey across a +wintry landscape of bare brown fields and leafless trees, Gilbert Fenton +travelled London-wards, to the city which was so little of a home for +him, but in which his life had seemed pleasant enough in its own +commonplace fashion until that fatal summer evening when he first saw +Marian Nowell's radiant face in the quiet church at Lidford. + +He scarcely stopped to eat or drink at the end of his journey, regaling +himself only with a bottle of soda-water, imperceptibly flavoured with +cognac by the hands of a ministering angel at the refreshment-counter of +the Waterloo Station, and then hurrying on at once in a hansom to that +dingy street in Soho where Mr. Medler sat in his parlour, like the +proverbial spider waiting for the advent of some too-confiding fly. + +The lawyer was at home, and seemed in no way surprised to see Mr. Fenton. + +"I have come to you about a bad business, Mr. Medler," Gilbert began, +seating himself opposite the shabby-looking office-table, with its +covering of dusty faded baize, upon which there seemed to be always +precisely the same array of papers in little bundles tied with red tape; +"but first let me ask you a question: Have you heard from Mrs. Holbrook?" + +"Not a line." + +"And have you taken no further steps, no other means of communicating +with her?" Gilbert asked. + +"Not yet. I think of sending my clerk down to Hampshire, or of going down +myself perhaps, in a day or two, if my business engagements will permit +me." + +"Do you not consider the case rather an urgent one, Mr. Medler? I should +have supposed that your curiosity would have been aroused by the absence +of any reply to your letters--that you would have looked at the business +in a more serious light than you appear to have done--that you would have +taken alarm, in short." + +"Why should I do so?" the lawyer demanded carelessly. "It is Mrs. +Holbrook's business to look after her affairs. The property is safe +enough. She can administer to the will as soon as she pleases. I +certainly wonder that the husband has not been a little sharper and more +active in the business." + +"You have heard nothing of him, then, I presume?" + +"Nothing." + +Gilbert remembered what Ellen Carley had told him about Marian's keeping +the secret of her newly-acquired fortune from her husband, until she +should be able to tell it to him with her own lips; waiting for that +happy moment with innocent girlish delight in the thought that he was to +owe prosperity to her. + +It seemed evident, therefore, that Mr. Holbrook could know nothing of his +wife's inheritance, nor of Mr. Medler's existence, supposing the lawyer's +letter to have reached the Grange before Marian's disappearance, and to +have been destroyed or carried away by her. + +He inquired the date of this letter; whereupon Mr. Medler referred to a +letter-book in which there was a facsimile of the document. It had been +posted three days before Marian left the Grange. + +Gilbert now proceeded to inform Mr. Medler of his client's mysterious +disappearance, and all the useless efforts that had been made to solve +the mystery. The lawyer listened with an appearance of profound interest +and astonishment, but made no remark till the story was quite finished. + +"You are right, Mr. Fenton," he said at last. "It is a bad business, a +very bad business. May I ask you what is the common opinion among people +in that part of the world--in the immediate neighbourhood of the event, +as to this poor lady's fate?" + +"An opinion with which I cannot bring myself to agree--an opinion which I +pray God may prove as unfounded as I believe it to be. It is generally +thought that Mrs. Holbrook has fallen a victim to some common crime--that +she was robbed, and then thrown into the river." + +"The river has been dragged, I suppose?" + +"It has; but the people about there seem to consider that no conclusive +test." + +"Had Mrs. Holbrook anything valuable about her at the time of her +disappearance?" + +"Her watch and chain and a few other trinkets." + +"Humph! There are scoundrels about the country who will commit the +darkest crime for the smallest inducement. I confess the business has +rather a black look, Mr. Fenton, and that I am inclined to concur with +the country people." + +"An easy way of settling the question for those not vitally interested in +the lady's fate," Gilbert answered bitterly. + +"The lady is my client, sir, and I am bound to feel a warm interest in +her affairs," the lawyer said, with the lofty tone of a man whose finer +feelings have been outraged. + +"The lady was once my promised wife, Mr. Medler," returned Gilbert, "and +now stands to me in the place of a beloved and only sister. For me the +mystery of her fate is an all-absorbing question, an enigma to the +solution of which I mean to devote the rest of my life, if need be." + +"A wasted life, Mr. Fenton; and in the meantime that river down yonder +may hide the only secret." + +"O God!" cried Gilbert passionately, "how eager every one is to make an +end of this business! Even the men whom I paid and bribed to help me grew +tired of their work, and abandoned all hope after the feeblest, most +miserable attempts to earn their reward." + +"What can be done in such a case, Mr. Fenton?" demanded the lawyer, +shrugging his shoulders with a deprecating air. "What can the police do +more than you or I? They have only a little more experience, that's all; +they have no recondite means of solving these social mysteries. You have +advertised, of course?" + +"Yes, in many channels, with a certain amount of caution, but in such a +manner as to insure Mrs. Holbrook's identification, if she had fallen +into the hands of any one willing to communicate with me, and to insure +her own attention, were she free to act for herself." + +"Humph! Then it seems to me that everything has been done that can be +done." + +"Not yet. The men whom I employed in Hampshire--they were recommended to +me by the Scotland-yard authorities, certainly--may not have been up to +the mark. In any case, I shall try some one else. Do you know anything of +the detective force?" + +Mr. Medler assumed an air of consideration, and then said, "No, he did +not know the name of a single detective; his business did not bring him +in contact with that class of people." He said this with the tone of a +man whose practice was of the loftiest and choicest kind--conveyancing, +perhaps, and the management of estates for the landed gentry, +marriage-settlements involving the disposition of large fortunes, and so +on; whereas Mr. Medler's business lying chiefly among the criminal +population, his path in life might have been supposed to be not very +remote from the footsteps of eminent police-officers. + +"I can get the information elsewhere," Gilbert said carelessly. "Believe +me, I do not mean to let this matter drop." + +"My dear sir, if I might venture upon a word of friendly advice--not in a +professional spirit, but as between man and man--I should warn you +against wasting your time and fortune upon a useless pursuit. If Mrs. +Holbrook has vanished from the world of her own free will--a thing that +often happens, eccentric as it may be--she will reappear in good time of +her own free will. If she has been the victim of a crime, that crime will +no doubt come to light in due course, without any efforts of yours." + +"That is the common kind of advice, Mr. Medler," answered Gilbert. +"Prudent counsel, no doubt, if a man could be content to take it, and +well meant; but, you see, I have loved this lady, love her still, and +shall continue so to love her till the end of my life. It is not possible +for me to rest in ignorance of her fate." + +"Although she jilted you in favour of Mr. Holbrook?" suggested the lawyer +with something of a sneer. + +"That wrong has been forgiven. Fate did not permit me to be her husband, +but I can be her friend and brother. She has need of some one to stand in +that position, poor girl! for her lot is very lonely. And now I want you +to explain the conditions of her grandfather's will. It is her father who +would profit, I think I gathered from our last conversation, in the event +of Marian's death." + +"In the event of her dying childless--yes, the father would take all." + +"Then he is really the only person who could profit by her death?" + +"Well, yes," replied the lawyer with some slight hesitation; "under her +grandfather's will, yes, her father would take all. Of course, in the +event of her father having died previously, the husband would come in as +heir-at-law. You see it was not easy to exclude the husband altogether." + +"And do you believe that Mr. Nowell is still living to claim his +inheritance?" + +"I believe so. I fancy the old man had some tidings of his son before the +will was executed; that he, in short, heard of his having been met with +not long ago, over in America." + +"No doubt he will speedily put in an appearance now," said Gilbert +bitterly--"now that there is a fortune to be gained by the assertion of +his identity." + +"Humph!" muttered the lawyer. "It would not be very easy for him to put +his hand on sixpence of Jacob Nowell's money, in the absence of any proof +of Mrs. Holbrook's death. There would be no end of appeals to the Court +of Chancery; and after all manner of formulas he might obtain a decree +that would lock up the property for twenty-four years. I doubt, if the +executor chose to stick to technicals, and the business got into +chancery, whether Percival Nowell would live long enough to profit by his +father's will." + +"I am glad of that," said Gilbert. "I know the man to be a scoundrel, and +I am very glad that he is unlikely to be a gainer by any misfortune that +has befallen his daughter. Had it been otherwise, I should have been +inclined to think that he had had some hand in this disappearance." + +The lawyer looked at Mr. Fenton with a sharp inquisitive glance. + +"In other words, you would imply that Percival Nowell may have made away +with his daughter. You must have a very bad opinion of human nature, Mr. +Fenton, to conceive anything so horrible." + +"My suspicions do not go quite so far as that," said Gilbert. "God forbid +that it should be so. I have a firm belief that Marian Holbrook lives. +But it is possible to get a person out of the way without the last worst +crime of which mankind is capable." + +"It would seem more natural to suspect the husband than the father, I +should imagine," Mr. Medler answered, after a thoughtful pause. + +"I cannot see that. The husband had nothing to gain by his wife's +disappearance, and everything to lose." + +"He might have supposed the father to be dead, and that he would step +into the fortune. He might not know enough of the law of property to be +aware of the difficulties attending a succession of that kind. There is a +most extraordinary ignorance of the law of the land prevailing among +well-educated Englishmen. Or he may have been tired of his wife, and have +seen his way to a more advantageous alliance. Men are not always +satisfied with one wife in these days, and a man who married in such a +strange underhand manner would be likely to have some hidden motive for +secrecy." + +The suggestion was not without force for Gilbert Fenton. His face grew +darker, and he was some time before he replied to Mr. Medler's remarks. +That suspicion which of late had been perpetually floating dimly in his +brain--that vague distrust of his one chosen friend, John Saltram, +flashed upon him in this moment with a new distinctness. If this man, +whom he had so loved and trusted, had betrayed him, had so utterly +falsified his friend's estimate of his character, was it not easy enough +to believe him capable of still deeper baseness, capable of growing weary +of his stolen wife, and casting her off by some foul secret means, in +order to marry a richer woman? The marriage between John Holbrook and +Marian Nowell had taken place several months before Michael Branston's +death, at a time when perhaps Adela Branston's admirer had begun to +despair of her release. And then fate had gone against him, and Mrs. +Branston's fortune lay at his feet when it was too late. + +Thus, and thus only, could Gilbert Fenton account in any easy manner for +John Saltram's avoidance of the Anglo-Indian's widow. A little more than +a year ago it had seemed as if the whole plan of his life was built upon +a marriage with this woman; and now that she was free, and obviously +willing to make him the master of her fortune, he recoiled from the +position, unreasonably and unaccountably blind or indifferent to its +advantages. + +"There shall be an end of these shapeless unspoken doubts," Gilbert said +to himself. "I will see John Saltram to-day, and there shall be an +explanation between us. I will be his dupe and fool no longer. I will get +at the truth somehow." + +Gilbert Fenton said very little more to the lawyer, who seemed by no +means sorry to get rid of him. But at the door of the office he paused. + +"You did not tell me the names of the executors to Jacob Nowell's will," +he said. + +"You didn't ask me the question," answered Mr. Medler curtly. "There is +only one executor--myself." + +"Indeed! Mr. Nowell must have had a very high opinion of you to leave you +so much power." + +"I don't know about power. Jacob Nowell knew me, and he didn't know many +people. I don't say that he put any especial confidence in me--for it was +his habit to trust no one, his boast that he trusted no one. But he was +obliged to name some one for his executor, and he named me." + +"Shall you consider it your duty to seek out or advertise for Percival +Nowell?" asked Gilbert. + +"I shall be in no hurry to do that, in the absence of any proof of his +daughter's death. My first duty would be to look for her." + +"God grant you may be more fortunate than I have been! There is my card, +Mr. Medler. You will be so good as to let me have a line immediately, at +that address, if you obtain any tidings of Mrs. Holbrook." + +"I will do so." + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +STRICKEN DOWN. + + +A hansom carried Gilbert Fenton to the Temple, without loss of time. +There was a fierce hurry in his breast, a heat and fever which he had +scarcely felt since the beginning of his troubles; for his lurking +suspicion of his friend had gathered shape and strength all at once, and +possessed his mind now to the exclusion of every other thought. + +He ran quickly up the stairs. The outer and inner doors of John Saltram's +chambers were both ajar. Gilbert pushed them open and went in. The +familiar sitting-room looked just a little more dreary than usual. The +litter of books and papers, ink-stand and portfolio, was transferred to +one of the side-tables, and in its place, on the table where his friend +had been accustomed to write, Gilbert saw a cluster of medicine-bottles, +a jug of toast-and-water, and a tray with a basin of lukewarm +greasy-looking beef-tea. + +The door between the two rooms stood half open, and from the bedchamber +within Gilbert heard the heavy painful breathing of a sleeper. He went to +the door and looked into the room. John Saltram was lying asleep, in an +uneasy attitude, with both arms thrown over his head. His face had a +haggard look that was made all the more ghastly by two vivid crimson +spots upon his sunken cheeks; there were dark purple rings round his +eyes, and his beard was of more than a week's growth. + +"Ill," Gilbert muttered, looking aghast at this dreary picture, with +strangely conflicting feelings of pity and anger in his breast; "struck +down at the very moment when I had determined to know the truth." + +The sick man tossed himself restlessly from side to side in his feverish +sleep, changed his position two or three times with evident weariness and +pain, and then opened his eyes and stared with a blank unseeing gaze at +his friend. That look, without one ray of recognition, went to Gilbert's +heart somehow. + +"O God, how fond I was of him!" he said to himself. "And if he has been a +traitor! If he were to die like this, before I have wrung the truth from +him--to die, and I not dare to cherish his memory--to be obliged to live +out my life with this doubt of him!" + +This doubt! Had he much reason to doubt two minutes afterwards, when +John Saltram raised himself on his gaunt arm, and looked piteously round +the room? + +"Marian!" he called. "Marian!" + +"Yes," muttered Gilbert, "it is all true. He is calling his wife." + +The revelation scarcely seemed a surprise to him. Little by little that +suspicion, so vague and dim at first, had gathered strength, and now that +all his doubts received confirmation from those unconscious lips, it +seemed to him as if he had known his friend's falsehood for a long time. + +"Marian, come here. Come, child, come," the sick man cried in feeble +imploring tones. "What, are you afraid of me? Is this death? Am I dead, +and parted from her? Would anything else keep her from me when I call for +her, the poor child that loved me so well? And I have wished myself free +of her--God forgive me!--wished myself free." + +The words were muttered in broken gasping fragments of sentences; but +Gilbert heard them and understood them very easily. Then, after looking +about the room, and looking full at Gilbert without seeing him, John +Saltram fell back upon his tumbled pillows and closed his eyes. Gilbert +heard a slipshod step in the outer room, and turning round, found himself +face to face with the laundress--that mature and somewhat depressing +matron whom he had sought out a little time before, when he wanted to +discover Mr. Saltram's whereabouts. + +This woman, upon seeing him, burst forth immediately into jubilation. + +"O, sir, what a providence it is that you've come!" she cried. "Poor dear +gentleman, he has been that ill, and me not knowing what to do more than +a baby, except in the way of sending for a doctor when I see how bad he +was, and waiting on him myself day and night, which I have done faithful, +and am that worn-out in consequence, that I shake like a haspen, and +can't touch a bit of victuals. I had but just slipped round to the court, +while he was asleep, poor dear, to give my children their dinner; for +it's a hard trial, sir, having a helpless young family depending upon +one; and it would but be fair that all I have gone through should be +considered; for though I says it as shouldn't, there isn't one of your +hired nurses would do more; and I'm willing to continue of it, provisoed +as I have help at nights, and my trouble considered in my wages." + +"You need have no apprehension; you shall be paid for your trouble. Has +he been long ill?" + +"Well, sir, he took the cold as were the beginning of his illness a +fortnight ago come next Thursday. You may remember, perhaps, as it came +on awful wet in the afternoon, last Thursday week, and Mr. Saltram was +out in the rain, and walked home in it,--not being able to get a cab, I +suppose, or perhaps not caring to get one, for he was always a careless +gentleman in such respects,--and come in wet through to the skin; and +instead of changing his clothes, as a Christian would have done, just +gives himself a shake like, as he might have been a New-fondling dog that +had been swimming, and sits down before the fire, which of course drawed +out the steam from his things and made it worse, and writes away for dear +life till twelve o'clock that night, having something particular to +finish for them magazines, he says; and so, when I come to tidy-up a bit +the last thing at night, I found him sitting at the table writing, and +didn't take no more notice of me than a dog, which was his way, though +never meant unkindly--quite the reverse." + +The laundress paused to draw breath, and to pour a dose of medicine from +one of the bottles on the table. + +"Well, sir, the next day, he had a vi'lent cold, as you may suppose, and +was low and languid-like, but went on with his writing, and it weren't no +good asking him not. 'I want money, Mrs. Pratt,' he said; 'you can't tell +how bad I want money, and these people pay me for my stuff as fast as I +send it in.' The day after that he was a deal worse, and had a wandering +way like, as if he didn't know what he was doing; and sat turning over +his papers with one hand, and leaning his head upon the other, and +groaned so that it went through one like a knife to hear him. 'It's no +use,' he said at last; 'it's no use!' and then went and threw hisself +down upon that bed, and has never got up since, poor dear gentleman! I +went round to fetch a doctor out of Essex Street, finding as he was no +better in the evening, and awful hot, and still more wandering-like--Mr. +Mew by name, a very nice gentleman--which said as it were rheumatic +fever, and has been here twice a day ever since." + +"Has Mr. Saltram never been in his right senses since that day?" Gilbert +asked. + +"O yes, sir; off and on for the first week he was quite hisself at times; +but for the last three days he hasn't known any one, and has talked and +jabbered a deal, and has been dreadful restless." + +"Does the doctor call it a dangerous case?" + +"Well, sir, not to deceive you, he ast me if Mr. Saltram had any friends +as I could send for; and I says no, not to my knowledge; 'for,' says Mr. +Mew, 'if he have any relations or friends near at hand, they ought to be +told that he's in a bad way;' and only this morning he said as how he +should like to call in a physician, for the case was a bad one." + +"I see. There is danger evidently," Gilbert said gravely. "I will wait +and hear what the doctor says. He will come again to-day, I suppose?" + +"Yes, sir; he's sure to come in the evening." + +"Good; I will stay till the evening. I should like you to go round +immediately to this Mr. Mew's house, and ask for the address of some +skilled nurse, and then go on, in a cab if necessary, and fetch her." + +"I could do that, sir, of course,--not but what I feel myself capable of +nursing the poor dear gentleman." + +"You can't nurse him night and day, my good woman. Do what I tell you, +and bring back a professional nurse as soon as you can. If Mr. Mew should +be out, his people are likely to know the address of such a person." + +He gave the woman some silver, and despatched her; and then, being alone, +sat down quietly in the sick-room to think out the situation. + +Yes, there was no longer any doubt; that piteous appeal to Marian had +settled the question. John Saltram, the friend whom he had loved, was the +traitor. John Saltram had stolen his promised wife, had come between him +and his fair happy future, and had kept the secret of his guilt in a +dastardly spirit that made the act fifty times blacker than it would have +seemed otherwise. + +Sitting in the dreary silence of that sick chamber, a silence broken only +by the painful sound of the sleeper's difficult breathing, many things +came back to his mind; circumstances trivial enough in themselves, but +invested with a grave significance when contemplated by the light of +today's revelation. + +He remembered those happy autumn afternoons at Lidford; those long, +drowsy, idle days in which John Saltram had given himself up so entirely +to the pleasure of the moment, with surely something more than mere +sympathy with his friend's happiness. He remembered that last long +evening at the cottage, when this man had been at his best, full of life +and gaiety; and then that sudden departure, which had puzzled him so much +at the time, and yet had seemed no surprise to Marian. It had been the +result of some suddenly-formed resolution perhaps, Gilbert thought. + +"Poor wretch! he may have tried to be true to me," he said to himself, +with a sharp bitter pain at his heart. + +He had loved this man so well, that even now, knowing himself to have +been betrayed, there was a strange mingling of pity and anger in his +mind, and mixed with these a touch of contempt. He had believed in John +Saltram; had fancied him nobler and grander than himself, somehow; a man +who, under a careless half-scornful pretence of being worse than his +fellows, concealed a nature that was far above the common herd; and yet +this man had proved the merest caitiff, a weak cowardly villain. + +"To take my hand in friendship, knowing what he had done, and how my +life was broken! to pretend sympathy; to play out the miserable farce to +the very last! Great heaven! that the man I have honoured could be +capable of so much baseness!" + +The sleeper moved restlessly, the eyes were opened once more and turned +upon Gilbert, not with the same utter blankness as before, but without +the faintest recognition. The sick man saw some one watching him, and the +figure was associated with an unreal presence, the phantom of his brain, +which had been with him often in the day and night. + +"The man again!" he muttered. "When will she come?" And then raising +himself upon his elbow, he cried imploringly, "Mother, you fetch her!" + +He was speaking to his mother, whom he had loved very dearly--his mother +who had been dead fifteen years. + +Gilbert's mind went back to that far-away time in Egypt, when he had lain +like this, helpless and unconscious, and this man had nursed and watched +him with unwearying tenderness. + +"I will see him safely through this," he said to himself, "and then----" + +And then the account between them must be squared somehow. Gilbert Fenton +had no thought of any direful vengeance. He belonged to an age in which +injuries are taken very quietly, unless they are wrongs which the law can +redress--wounds which can be healed by a golden plaster in the way of +damages. + +He could not kill his friend; the age of duelling was past, and he not +romantic enough to be guilty of such an anachronism as mortal combat. Yet +nothing less than a duel to the death could avenge such a wrong. + +So friendship was at an end between those two, and that was all; it was +only the utter severance of a tie that had lasted for years, nothing +more. Yet to Gilbert it seemed a great deal. His little world had +crumbled to ashes; love had perished, and now friendship had died this +sudden bitter death, from which there was no possible resurrection. + +In the midst of such thoughts as these he remembered the sick man's +medicine. Mrs. Pratt had given him a few hurried directions before +departing on her errand. He looked at his watch, and then went over to +the table and prepared the draught and administered it with a firm and +gentle hand. + +"Who's that?" John Saltram muttered faintly. "It seems like the touch of +a friend." + +He dropped back upon the pillow without waiting for any reply, and fell +into a string of low incoherent talk, with closed eyes. + +The laundress was a long time gone, and Gilbert sat alone in the dismal +little bedroom, where there had never been the smallest attempt at +comfort since John Saltram had occupied it. He sat alone, or with that +awful companionship of one whose mind was far away, which was so much +more dreary than actual loneliness--sat brooding over the history of his +friend's treachery. + +What had he done with Marian? Was her disappearance any work of his, +after all? Had he hidden her away for some secret reason of his own, and +then acted out the play by pretending to search for her? Knowing him for +the traitor he was, could Gilbert Fenton draw any positive line of +demarcation between the amount of guilt which was possible and that which +was not possible to him? + +What had he done with Marian? How soon would he be able to answer that +question? or would he ever be able to answer it? The thought of this +delay was torture to Gilbert Fenton. He had come here to-day thinking to +make an end of all his doubts, to force an avowal of the truth from those +false lips. And behold, a hand stronger than his held him back. His +interrogation must await the answer to that awful question--life or +death. + +The woman came in presently, bustling and out of breath. She had found a +very trustworthy person, recommended by Mr. Mew's assistant--a person who +would come that evening without fail. + +"It was all the way up at Islington, sir, and I paid the cabman +three-and-six altogether, which he said it were his fare. And how has the +poor dear been while I was away?" asked Mrs. Pratt, with her head on one +side and an air of extreme solicitude. + +"Very much as you see him now. He has mentioned a name once or twice, the +name of Marian. Have you ever heard that?" + +"I should say I have, sir, times and often since he's been ill. 'Marian, +why don't you come to me?' so pitiful; and then, 'Lost, lost!' in such a +awful wild way. I think it must be some favourite sister, sir, or a young +lady as he has kep' company with." + +"Marian!" cried the voice from the bed, as if their cautious talk had +penetrated to that dim brain. "Marian! O no, no; she is gone; I have lost +her! Well, I wished it; I wanted my freedom." + +Gilbert started, and stood transfixed, looking intently at the +unconscious speaker. Yes, here was the clue to the mystery. John Saltram +had grown tired of his stolen bride--had sighed for his freedom. Who +should say that he had not taken some iniquitous means to rid himself of +the tie that had grown troublesome to him? + +Gilbert Fenton remembered Ellen Carley's suspicions. He was no longer +inclined to despise them. + +It was dreary work to sit by the bedside watching that familiar face, to +which fever and delirium had given a strange weird look; dismal work to +count the moments, and wonder when that voice, now so thick of utterance +as it went on muttering incoherent sentences and meaningless phrases, +would be able to reply to those questions which Gilbert Fenton was +burning to ask. + +Was it a guilty conscience, the dull slow agony of remorse, which had +stricken this man down--this strong powerfully-built man, who was a +stranger to illness and all physical suffering? Was the body only crushed +by the burden of the mind? Gilbert could not find any answer to these +questions. He only knew that his sometime friend lay there helpless, +unconscious, removed beyond his reach as completely as if he had been +lying in his coffin. + +"O God, it is hard to bear!" he said half aloud: "it is a bitter trial to +bear. If this illness should end in death, I may never know Marian's +fate." + +He sat in the sick man's room all through that long dismal afternoon, +waiting to see the doctor, and with the same hopeless thoughts repeating +themselves perpetually in his mind. + +It was nearly eight o'clock when Mr. Mew at last made his evening visit. +He was a grave gray-haired little man, with a shrewd face and a pleasant +manner; a man who inspired Gilbert with confidence, and whose presence +was cheering in a sick-room; but he did not speak very hopefully of John +Saltram. + +"It is a bad case, sir--a very bad case," he said gravely, after he had +made his careful examination of the patient's condition. "There has been +a violent cold caught, you see, through our poor friend's recklessness in +neglecting to change his damp clothes, and rheumatic fever has set in. +But it appears to me that there are other causes at work--mental +disturbance, and so on. Our friend has been taxing his brain a little too +severely, I gather from Mrs. Pratt's account of him; and these things +will tell, sir; sooner or later they have their effect." + +"Then you apprehend danger?" + +"Well, yes; I dare not tell you that there is an absence of danger. Mr. +Saltram has a fine constitution, a noble frame; but the strain is a +severe one, especially upon the mind." + +"You spoke just now of over-work as a cause for this mental disturbance. +Might it not rather proceed from some secret trouble of mind, some hidden +care?" Gilbert asked anxiously. + +"That, sir, is an open question. The mind is unhinged; there is no doubt +of that. There is something more here than the ordinary delirium we look +for in fever cases." + +"You have talked of a physician, Mr. Mew; would it not be well to call +one in immediately?" + +"I should feel more comfortable if my opinion were supported, sir: not +that I believe there is anything more can be done for our patient than I +have been doing; but the case is a critical one, and I should be glad to +feel myself supported." + +"If you will give me the name and address of the gentleman you would like +to call in, I will go for him immediately." + +"To-night? Nay, my dear sir, there is no occasion for such haste; +to-morrow morning will do very well." + +"To-morrow morning, then; but I will make the appointment to-night, if I +can." + +Mr. Mew named a physician high in reputation as a specialist in such +cases as John Saltram's; and Gilbert dashed off at once in a hansom to +obtain the promise of an early visit from this gentleman on the following +morning. He succeeded in his errand; and on returning to the Temple found +the professional nurse installed, and the sick-room brightened and +freshened a little by her handiwork. The patient was asleep, and his +slumber was more quiet than usual. + +Gilbert had eaten nothing since breakfast, and it was now nearly nine +o'clock in the evening; but before going out to some neighbouring tavern +to snatch a hasty dinner, he stopped to tell Mrs. Pratt that he should +sleep in his friend's chamber that night. + +"Why, you don't mean that, sir, sure to goodness," cried the laundress, +alarmed; "and not so much as a sofy bedstead, nor nothing anyways +comfortable." + +"I could sleep upon three or four chairs, if it were necessary; but there +is an old sofa in the bedroom. You might bring that into this room for +me; and the nurse can have it in the day-time. She won't want to be lying +down to-night, I daresay. I don't suppose I shall sleep much myself, but +I am a little knocked up, and shall be glad of some sort of rest. I want +to be on the spot, come what may." + +"But, sir, with the new nurse and me, there surely can't be no necessity; +and you might be round the first thing in the morning like to see how the +poor dear gentleman has slep'." + +"I know that, but I would rather be on the spot. I have my own especial +reasons. You can go home to your children." + +"Thank you kindly, sir; which I shall be very glad to take care of 'em, +poor things. And I hope, sir, as you won't forget that I've gone through +a deal for Mr. Saltram--if so be as he shouldn't get better himself, +which the Lord forbid--to take my trouble into consideration, bein' as he +were always a free-handed gentleman, though not rich." + +"Your services will not be forgotten, Mrs. Pratt, depend upon it. +Perhaps I'd better give you a couple of sovereigns on account: that'll +make matters straight for the present." + +"Yes, sir; and many thanks for your generosity," replied the laundress, +agreeably surprised by this prompt donation, and dropping grateful +curtseys before her benefactor; "and Mr. Saltram shall want nothing as my +care can provide for him, you may depend upon it." + +"That is well. And now I am going out to get some dinner; I shall be back +in half an hour." + +The press and bustle of the day's work was over at the tavern to which +Gilbert bent his steps. Dinners and diners seemed to be done with for one +more day; and there were only a couple of drowsy-looking waiters folding +table-cloths and putting away cruet-stands and other paraphernalia in +long narrow closets cut in the papered walls, and invisible by day. + +One of these functionaries grew brisk again, with a wan factitious +briskness, at sight of Gilbert, made haste to redecorate one of the +tables, and in bland insinuating tones suggested a dinner of six courses +or so, as likely to be agreeable to a lonely and belated diner; well +aware in the depths of his inner consciousness that the six courses would +be all more or less warmings-up of viands that had figured in the day's +bill of fare. + +"Bring me a chop or a steak, and a pint of dry sherry," Gilbert said +wearily. + +"Have a slice of turbot and lobster-sauce, sir--the turbot are uncommon +fine to-day; and a briled fowl and mushrooms. It will be ready in five +minutes." + +"You may bring me the fowl, if you like: I won't wait for fish. I'm in a +hurry." + +The attendant gave a faint sigh, and communicated the order for the fowl +and mushrooms through a speaking-tube. It was the business of his life to +beguile his master's customers into over-eating themselves, and to set +his face against chops and steaks; but he felt that this particular +customer was proof against his blandishments. He took Gilbert an evening +paper, and then subsided into a pensive silence until the fowl appeared +in an agreeable frizzling state, fresh from the gridiron, but a bird of +some experience notwithstanding, and wingless. It was a very hasty meal. +Gilbert was eager to return to those chambers in the Temple--eager to be +listening once more for some chance words of meaning that might be +dropped from John Saltram's pale parched lips in the midst of incoherent +ravings. Come what might, he wanted to be near at hand, to watch that +sick-bed with a closer vigil than hired nurse ever kept; to be ready to +surprise the briefest interval of consciousness that might come all of a +sudden to that hapless fever-stricken sinner. Who should say that such an +interval would not come, or who could tell what such an interval might +reveal? + +Gilbert Fenton paid for his dinner, left half his wine undrunk, and +hurried away; leaving the waiter with rather a contemptuous idea of him, +though that individual condescended to profit by his sobriety, and +finished the dry sherry at a draught. + +It was nearly ten when Gilbert returned to the chambers, and all was +still quiet, that heavy slumber continuing; an artificial sleep at the +best, produced by one of Mr. Mew's sedatives. The sofa had been wheeled +from the bedroom to the sitting-room, and placed in a comfortable corner +by the fire. There were preparations too for a cup of tea, to be made and +consumed at any hour agreeable to the watcher; a small teakettle +simmering on the hob; a tray with a cup and saucer, and queer little +black earthenware teapot, on the table; a teacaddy and other appliances +close at hand,--all testifying to the grateful attention of the vanished +Pratt. + +Gilbert shared the nurse's watch till past midnight. Long before that +John Saltram woke from his heavy sleep, and there was more of that +incoherent talk so painful to hear--talk of people that were dead, of +scenes that were far away, even of those careless happy wanderings in +which those two college friends had been together; and then mere nonsense +talk, shreds and patches of random thought, that scorned to be drawn +from some rubbish-chamber, some waste-paper basket of the brain. + +It was weary work. He woke towards eleven, and a little after twelve +dropped asleep again; but this time, the effect of the sedative having +worn off, the sleep was restless and uneasy. Then came a brief interval +of quiet; and in this Gilbert left him, and flung himself down upon the +sofa, to sink into a slumber that was scarcely more peaceful than that of +the sick man. + +He was thoroughly worn out, however, and slept for some hours, to be +awakened suddenly at last by a shrill cry in the next room. He sprang up +from the sofa, and rushed in. John Saltram was sitting up in bed, propped +by the pillows on which his two elbows were planted, looking about him +with a fierce haggard face, and calling for "Marian." The nurse had +fallen asleep in her arm-chair by the fire, and was slumbering placidly. + +"Marian," he cried, "Marian, why have you left me? God knows I loved you; +yes, even when I seemed cold and neglectful. Everything was against me; +but I loved you, my dear, I loved you! Did I ever say that you came +between me and fortune--was I mean enough, base enough, ever to say that? +It was a lie, my love; you were my fortune. Were poverty and obscurity +hard things to bear for you? No, my darling, no; I will face them +to-morrow, if you will come back to me. O no, no, she is gone; my life +has gone: I broke her heart with my hard bitter words; I drove my angel +away from me." + +He had not spoken so coherently since Gilbert had been with him that +day. Surely this must be an interval of consciousness, or +semi-consciousness. Gilbert went to the bedside, and, seating himself +there quietly, looked intently at the altered face, which stared at him +without a gleam of recognition. + +"Speak to me, John Saltram," he said. "You know me, don't you--the man +who was once your friend, Gilbert Fenton?" + +The other burst into a wild bitter laugh. "Gilbert Fenton--my friend, the +man who trusts me still! Poor old Gilbert! and I fancied that I loved +him, that I would have freely sacrificed my own happiness for his." + +"And yet you betrayed him," Gilbert said in a low distinct voice. "But +that may be forgiven, if you have been guilty of no deeper wrong than +that. John Saltram, as you have a soul to be saved, what have you done +with Marian--with--your wife?" + +It cost him something, even in that moment of excitement, to pronounce +those two words. + +"Killed her!" the sick man answered with the same mad laugh. "She was too +good for me, you see; and I grew weary of her calm beauty, and I sickened +of her tranquil goodness. First I sacrificed honour, friendship, +everything to win her; and then I got tired of my prize. It is my nature, +I suppose; but I loved her all the time; she had twined herself about my +heart somehow. I knew it when she was lost." + +"What have you done with her?" repeated Gilbert, in a low stern voice, +with his grasp upon John Saltram's arm. + +"What have I done with her? I forget. She is gone--I wanted my freedom; +I felt myself fettered, a ruined man. She is gone; and I am free, free to +make a better marriage." + +"O God!" muttered Gilbert, "is this man the blackest villain that ever +cumbered the earth? What am I to think, what am I to believe?" + +Again he repeated the same question, with a stern kind of patience, as if +he would give this guilty wretch the benefit of every possible doubt, the +unwilling pity which his condition demanded. Alas! he could obtain no +coherent answer to his persistent questioning. Vague self-accusation, mad +reiteration of that one fact of his loss; nothing more distinct came from +those fevered lips, nor did one look of recognition flash into those +bloodshot eyes. + +The time at which this mystery was to be solved had not come yet; there +was nothing to be done but to wait, and Gilbert waited with a sublime +patience through all the alternations of a long and wearisome sickness. + +"Talk of friends," Mrs. Pratt exclaimed, in a private conference with the +nurse; "never did I see such a friend as Mr. Fenting, sacrificing of +himself as he do, day and night, to look after that poor creature in +there, and taking no better rest than he can get on that old horsehair +sofy, which brickbats or knife boards isn't harder, and never do you hear +him murmur." + +And yet for this man, whose battle with the grim enemy, Death, he +watched so patiently, what feeling could there be in Gilbert Fenton's +heart in all the days to come but hatred or contempt? He had loved him so +well, and trusted him so completely, and this was the end of it. + +Christmas came while John Saltram was lying at death's door, feebly +fighting that awful battle, struggling unconsciously with the bony hand +that was trying to drag him across that fatal threshold; just able to +keep himself on this side of that dread portal beyond which there lies so +deep a mystery, so profound a darkness. Christmas came; and there were +bells ringing, and festive gatherings here and there about the great +dreary town, and Gilbert Fenton was besieged by friendly invitations from +Mrs. Lister, remonstrating with him for his want of common affection in +preferring to spend that season among his London friends rather than in +the bosom of his family. + +Gilbert wrote: to his sister telling her that he had particular business +which detained him in town. But had it been otherwise, had he not been +bound prisoner to John Saltram's sick-room, he would scarcely have cared +to take his part in the conventional feastings and commonplace +jovialities of Lidford House. Had he not dreamed of a bright home which +was to be his at this time, a home beautified by the presence of the +woman he loved? Ah, what delight to have welcomed the sacred day in the +holy quiet of such a home, they two alone together, with all the world +shut out! + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +ELLEN CARLEY'S TRIALS. + + +Christmas came in the old farm-house near Crosber; and Ellen Carley, who +had no idea of making any troubled thoughts of her own an excuse for +neglect of her household duties, made the sombre panelled rooms bright +with holly and ivy, laurel and fir, and busied herself briskly in the +confection of such pies and puddings as Hampshire considered necessary to +the due honour of that pious festival. There were not many people to see +the greenery and bright holly-berries which embellished the grave old +rooms, not many whom Ellen very much cared for to taste the pies and +puddings; but duty must be done, and the bailiff's daughter did her work +with a steady industry which knew no wavering. + +Her life had been a hard one of late, very lonely since Mrs. Holbrook's +disappearance, and haunted with a presence which was most hateful to +her. Stephen Whitelaw had taken to coming to the Grange much oftener than +of old. There was seldom an evening now on which his insignificant figure +was not to be seen planted by the hearth in the snug little oak-parlour, +smoking his pipe in that dull silent way of his, which was calculated to +aggravate a lively person like Ellen Carley into some open expression of +disgust or dislike. Of late, too, his attentions had been of a more +pronounced character; he took to dropping sly hints of his pretensions, +and it was impossible for Ellen any longer to doubt that he wanted her to +be his wife. More than this, there was a tone of assurance about the man, +quiet as he was, which exasperated Miss Carley beyond all measure. He had +the air of being certain of success, and on more than one occasion spoke +of the day when Ellen would be mistress of Wyncomb Farm. + +On his repetition of this offensive speech one evening, the girl took him +up sharply:-- + +"Not quite so fast, if you please, Mr. Whitelaw," she said; "it takes two +to make a bargain of that kind, just the same as it takes two to quarrel. +There's many curious changes may come in a person's life, no doubt, and +folks never know what's going to happen to them; but whatever changes may +come upon me, _that_ isn't one of them. I may live to see the inside of +the workhouse, perhaps, when I'm too old for service; but I shall never +sleep under the roof of Wyncomb Farmhouse." + +Mr. Whitelaw gave a spiteful little laugh. + +"What a spirited one she is, ain't she, now?" he said with a sneer. "O, +you won't, won't you, my lass; you turn up that pretty little nose of +yours--it do turn up a bit of itself, don't it, though?--at Wyncomb Farm +and Stephen Whitelaw; your father tells a different story, Nell." + +"Then my father tells a lying story," answered the girl, blushing crimson +with indignation; "and it isn't for want o' knowing the truth. He knows +that, if it was put upon me to choose between your house and the union, +I'd go to the union--and with a light heart too, to be free of you. I +didn't want to be rude, Mr. Whitelaw; for you've been civil-spoken enough +to me, and I daresay you're a good friend to my father; but I can't help +speaking the truth, and you've brought it on yourself with your +nonsense." + +"She's got a devil of a tongue of her own, you see, Whitelaw," said the +bailiff, with a savage glance at his daughter; "but she don't mean above +a quarter what she says--and when her time comes, she'll do as she's bid, +or she's no child of mine." + +"O, I forgive her," replied Mr. Whitelaw, with a placid air of +superiority; "I'm not the man to bear malice against a pretty woman, and +to my mind a pretty woman looks all the prettier when she's in a +passion. I'm not in a hurry, you see, Carley; I can bide my time; but I +shall never take a mistress to Wyncomb unless I can take the one I like." + +After this particular evening, Mr. Whitelaw's presence seemed more than +ever disagreeable to poor Ellen. He had the air of her fate somehow, +sitting rooted to the hearth night after night, and she grew to regard +him with a half superstitious horror, as if he possessed some occult +power over her, and could bend her to his wishes in spite of herself. The +very quietude of the man became appalling to her. Such a man seemed +capable of accomplishing anything by the mere force of persistence, by +the negative power that lay in his silent nature. + +"I suppose he means to sit in that room night after night, smoking his +pipe and staring with those pale stupid eyes of his, till I change my +mind and promise to marry him," Ellen said to herself, as she meditated +angrily on the annoyance of Mr. Whitelaw's courtship. "He may sit there +till his hair turns gray--if ever such red hair does turn to anything +better than itself--and he'll find no change in me. I wish Frank were +here to keep up my courage. I think if he were to ask me to run away with +him, I should be tempted to say yes, at the risk of bringing ruin upon +both of us; anything to escape out of the power of that man. But come +what may, I won't endure it much longer. I'll run away to service soon +after Christmas, and father will only have himself to thank for the loss +of me." + +It was Mr. Whitelaw who appeared as principal guest at the Grange on +Christmas-day; Mr. Whitelaw, supported on this occasion by a widowed +cousin of his who had kept house for him for some years, and who bore a +strong family likeness to him both in person and manner, and Ellen Carley +thought that it was impossible for the world to contain a more +disagreeable pair. These were the guests who consumed great quantities of +Ellen's pies and puddings, and who sat under her festal garlands of holly +and laurel. She had been especially careful to hang no scrap of +mistletoe, which might have afforded Mr. Whitelaw an excuse for a +practical display of his gallantry; a fact which did not escape the +playful observation of his cousin, Mrs. Tadman. + +"Young ladies don't often forget to put up a bit of mistletoe," said this +matron, "when there's a chance of them they like being by;" and she +glanced in a meaning way from Ellen to the master of Wyncomb Farm. + +"Miss Carley isn't like the generality of young ladies," Mr. Whitelaw +answered with a glum look, and his kinswoman was fain to drop the +subject. + +Alone with Ellen, sly Mrs. Tadman took occasion to launch out into +enthusiastic praises of her cousin; to which the girl listened in +profound silence, closely watched all the time by the woman's sharp gray +eyes. And then by degrees her tone changed ever so little, and she owned +that her kinsman was not altogether faultless; indeed it was curious to +perceive what numerous shortcomings were coexistent with those shining +merits of his. + +"He has been a good friend to me," continued the matron; "that I never +have denied and never shall deny. But I have been a good servant to him; +ah! there isn't a hired servant as would toil and drudge, and watch and +pinch, as I have done to please him, and never have had payment from him +more than a new gown at Christmas, or a five-pound note after harvest. +And of course, if ever he marries, I shall have to look for a new home; +for I know too much of his ways, I daresay, for a wife to like to have me +about her--and me of an age when it seem a hard to have to go among +strangers--and not having saved sixpence, where I might have put by a +hundred pounds easy, if I hadn't been working without wages for a +relation. But I've not been called a servant, you see; and I suppose +Stephen thinks that's payment enough for my trouble. Goodness knows I've +saved him many a pound, and that he'll know when I'm gone; for he's near, +is Stephen, and it goes to his heart to part with a shilling." + +"But why should you ever leave him, Mrs. Tadman?" Ellen asked kindly. "I +shouldn't think he could have a better housekeeper." + +"Perhaps not," answered the widow, shaking her head with mysterious +significance; "but his wife won't think that; and when he's got a wife +he'll want her to be his housekeeper, and to pinch and scrape as I've +pinched and scraped for him. Lord help her!" concluded Mrs. Tadman, with a +faint groan, which was far from complimentary to her relative's character. + +"But perhaps he never will marry," argued Ellen coolly. + +"O, yes, he will, Miss Carley," replied Mrs. Tadman, with another +significant movement of her head; "he's set his heart on that, and he's set +his heart on the young woman he means to marry." + +"He can't marry her unless she's willing to be his wife, any how," said +Ellen, reddening a little. + +"O, he'll find a way to make her consent, Miss Carley, depend upon that. +Whatever Stephen Whitelaw sets his mind upon, he'll do. But I don't envy +that poor young woman; for she'll have a hard life of it at Wyncomb, and +a hard master in my cousin Stephen." + +"She must be a very weak-minded young woman if she marries him against +her will," Ellen said laughing; and then ran off to get the tea ready, +leaving Mrs. Tadman to her meditations, which were not of a lively nature +at the best of times. + +That Christmas-day came to an end at last, after a long evening in the +oak parlour enlivened by a solemn game at whist and a ponderous supper of +cold sirloin and mince pies; and looking out at the wintry moonlight, and +the shadowy garden and flat waste of farm-land from the narrow casement +in her own room. Ellen Carley wondered what those she loved best in the +world were doing and thinking of under that moonlit sky. Where was Marian +Holbrook, that new-found friend whom she had loved so well, and whose +fate remained so profound a mystery? and what was Frank Randall doing, +far away in London, where he had gone to fill a responsible position in a +large City firm of solicitors, and whence he had promised to return +faithful to his first love, as soon as he found himself fairly on the +road to a competence wherewith to endow her? + +Thus it was that poor Ellen kept the close of her Christmas-day, looking +out over the cold moonlit fields, and wondering how she was to escape +from the persecution of Stephen Whitelaw. + +That obnoxious individual had invited Mr. Carley and his daughter to +spend New-year's-day at Wyncomb; a display of hospitality so foreign to +his character, that it was scarcely strange that Mrs. Tadman opened her +eyes and stared aghast as she heard the invitation given. It had been +accepted too, much to Ellen's disgust; and her father told her more than +once in the course of the ensuing week that she was to put on her best +gown, and smarten herself up a bit, on New-year's-day. + +"And if you want a new gown, Nell, I don't mind giving it you," said the +bailiff, in a burst of generosity, and with the prevailing masculine idea +that a new gown was a panacea for all feminine griefs. "You can walk over +to Malsham and buy it any afternoon you like." + +But Ellen did not care for a new gown, and told her father so, with a +word or two of thanks for his offer. She did not desire fine dresses; she +had indeed been looking over and furbishing up her wardrobe of late, with +a view to that possible flight of hers, and it was to her cotton working +gowns that she had paid most attention: looking forward to begin a harder +life in some stranger's service--ready to endure anything rather than to +marry Stephen Whitelaw. And of late the conviction had grown upon her +that her father was very much in earnest, and that before long it would +be a question whether she should obey him, or be turned out of doors. She +had seen his dealings with other people, and she knew him to be a +passionate determined man, hard as iron in his anger. + +"I won't give him the trouble to turn me out of doors," Ellen said to +herself. "When I know his mind, and that there's no hope of turning him, +I'll get away quietly, and find some new home. He has no real power over +me, and I have but to earn my own living to be independent of him. And I +don't suppose Frank will think any the worse of me for having been a +servant," thought the girl, with something like a sob. It seemed hard +that she must needs sink lower in her lover's eyes, when she was so far +beneath him already; he a lawyer's son, a gentleman by education, and she +an untaught country girl. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +THE PADLOCKED DOOR AT WYNCOMB. + + +The countenance of the new year was harsh, rugged, and gloomy--as of a +stony-hearted, strong-minded new year, that had no idea of making his +wintry aspect pleasant, or brightening the gloom of his infancy with any +deceptive gleams of January sunshine. A bitter north wind made a dreary +howling among the leafless trees, and swept across the broad bare fields +with merciless force--a bleak cruel new-year's-day, on which to go out +a-pleasuring; but it was more in harmony with Ellen Carley's thoughts +than brighter weather could have been; and she went to and fro about her +morning's work, up and down cold windy passages, and in and out of the +frozen dairy, unmoved by the bitter wind which swept the crisp waves of +dark brown hair from her low brows, and tinged the tip of her impertinent +little nose with a faint wintry bloom. + +The bailiff was in very high spirits this first morning of the new +year--almost uproarious spirits indeed, which vented themselves in +snatches of boisterous song, as he bustled backwards and forwards from +house to stables, dressed in his best blue coat and bright buttons and a +capacious buff waistcoat; with his ponderous nether limbs clothed in +knee-cords, and boots with vinegar tops; looking altogether the typical +British farmer. + +Those riotous bursts of song made his daughter shudder. Somehow, his +gaiety was more alarming to her than his customary morose humour. It was +all the more singular, too, because of late William Carley had been +especially silent and moody, with the air of a man whose mind is weighed +down by some heavy burden--so gloomy indeed, that his daughter had +questioned him more than once, entreating to know if he were distressed +by any secret trouble, anything going wrong about the farm, and so on. +The girl had only brought upon herself harsh angry answers by these +considerate inquiries, and had been told to mind her own business, and +not pry into matters that in no way concerned her. + +"But it does concern me to see you downhearted, father," she answered +gently. + +"Does it really, my girl? What! your father's something more than a +stranger to you, is he? I shouldn't have thought it, seeing how you've +gone again me in some things lately. Howsomedever, when I want your help, +I shall know how to ask for it, and I hope you'll give it freely. I don't +want fine words; they never pulled anybody out of the ditch that I've +heard tell of." + +Whatever the bailiff's trouble had been, it seemed to be lightened +to-day, Ellen thought; and yet that unusual noisy gaiety of his gave her +an uncomfortable feeling: it did not seem natural or easy. + +Her household work was done by noon, and she dressed hurriedly, while her +father called for her impatiently from below--standing at the foot of the +wide bare old staircase, and bawling up to her that they should be late +at Wyncomb. She looked very pretty in her neat dark-blue merino dress and +plain linen collar, when she came tripping downstairs at last, flushed +with the hurry of her toilet, and altogether so bright a creature that it +seemed a hard thing she should not be setting out upon some real pleasure +trip, instead of that most obnoxious festival to which she was summoned. + +Her father looked at her with a grim kind of approval. + +"You'll do well enough, lass," he said; "but I should like you to have +had something smarter than that blue stuff. I wouldn't have minded a +couple of pounds or so to buy you a silk gown. But you'll be able to buy +yourself as many silk gowns as ever you like by-and-by, if you play your +cards well and don't make a fool of yourself." + +Ellen knew what he meant well enough, but did not care to take any notice +of the speech. The time would soon come, no doubt, when she must take her +stand in direct opposition to him, and in the meanwhile it would be worse +than foolish to waste breath in idle squabbling. + +They were to drive to Wyncomb in the bailiff's gig; rather an obsolete +vehicle, with a yellow body, a mouldy leather apron, and high wheels +picked out with red, drawn by a tall gray horse that did duty with the +plough on ordinary occasions. Stephen Whitelaw's house was within an easy +walk of the Grange; but the gig was a more dignified mode of approach +than a walk, and the bailiff insisted on driving his daughter to her +suitor's abode in that conveyance. + +Wyncomb was a long low gray stone house, of an unknown age; a spacious +habitation enough, with many rooms, and no less than three staircases, +but possessing no traces of that fallen grandeur which pervaded the +Grange. It had been nothing better than a farm-house from time +immemorial, and had been added to and extended and altered to suit the +convenience of successive generations of farmers. It was a +gloomy-looking house at all times, Ellen Carley thought, but especially +gloomy under that leaden winter sky; a house which it would have been +almost impossible to associate with pleasant family gatherings or the +joyous voices of young children; a grim desolate-looking house, that +seemed to freeze the passing traveller with its cold blank stare, as if +its gloomy portal had a voice to say to him, "However lost you may be for +lack of shelter, however weary for want of rest, come not here!" + +Idle fancies, perhaps; but they were the thoughts with which Wyncomb +Farmhouse always inspired Ellen Carley. + +"The place just suits its master's hard miserly nature," she said. "One +would think it had been made on purpose for him; or perhaps the Whitelaws +have been like that from generation to generation." + +There was no such useless adornment as a flower-garden at Wyncomb. +Stephen Whitelaw cared about as much for roses and lilies as he cared for +Greek poetry or Beethoven's sonatas. At the back of the house there was a +great patch of bare shadowless ground devoted to cabbages and potatoes, +with a straggling border of savoury herbs; a patch not even divided from +the farm land beyond, but melting imperceptibly into a field of +mangel-wurzel. There were no superfluous hedges upon Mr. Whitelaw's +dominions; not a solitary tree to give shelter to the tired cattle in the +long hot summer days. Noble old oaks and patriarch beeches, tall +sycamores and grand flowering chestnuts, had been stubbed up +remorselessly by that economical agriculturist; and he was now the proud +possessor of one of the ugliest and most profitable farms in Hampshire. + +In front of the gray-stone house the sheep browsed up to the parlour +windows, and on both sides of the ill-kept carriage-drive leading from +the white gate that opened into the meadow to the door of Mr. Whitelaw's +abode. No sweet-scented woodbine or pale monthly roses beautified the +front of the house in spring or summer time. The neglected ivy had +overgrown one end of the long stone building and crept almost to the +ponderous old chimneys; and this decoration, which had come of itself, +was the only spot of greenery about the place. Five tall poplars grew in +a row about a hundred yards from the front windows; these, strange to +say, Mr. Whitelaw had suffered to remain. They served to add a little +extra gloom to the settled grimness of the place, and perhaps harmonised +with his tastes. + +Within Wyncomb Farmhouse was no more attractive than without. The rooms +were low and dark; the windows, made obscure by means of heavy woodwork +and common glass, let in what light they did admit with a grudging air, +and seemed to frown upon the inmates of the chamber they were supposed to +beautify. There were all manner of gloomy passages, and unexpected +flights of half-a-dozen stairs or so, in queer angles of the house, and +there was a prevailing darkness everywhere; for the Whitelaws of departed +generations, objecting to the window tax, had blocked up every casement +that it was possible to block up; and the stranger exploring Wyncomb +Farmhouse was always coming upon those blank plastered windows, which had +an unpleasant ghostly aspect, and set him longing for a fireman's hatchet +to hew them open and let in the light of day. + +The furniture was of the oldest, black with age, worm-eaten, ponderous; +queer old four-post bedsteads, with dingy hangings of greenish brown or +yellowish green, from which every vestige of the original hue had faded +long ago; clumsy bureaus, and stiff high-backed chairs with thick legs +and gouty feet, heavy to move and uncomfortable to sit upon. The house +was clean enough, and the bare floors of the numerous bed-chambers, which +were only enlivened here and there with small strips or bands of Dutch +carpet, sent up a homely odour of soft soap; for Mrs. Tadman took a +fierce delight in cleaning, and the solitary household drudge who toiled +under her orders had a hard time of it. There was a dismal kind of +neatness about everything, and a bleak empty look in the sparsely +furnished rooms, which wore no pleasant sign of occupation, no look of +home. The humblest cottage, with four tiny square rooms and a thatched +roof, and just a patch of old-fashioned garden with a sweetbrier hedge +and roses growing here and there among the cabbages; would have been a +pleasanter habitation than Wyncomb, Ellen Carley thought. + +Mr. Whitelaw exhibited an unwonted liberality upon this occasion. The +dinner was a ponderous banquet, and the dessert a noble display of nuts +and oranges, figs and almonds and raisins, flanked by two old-fashioned +decanters of port and sherry; and both the bailiff and his host did ample +justice to the feast. It was a long dreary afternoon of eating and +drinking; and Ellen was not sorry to get away from the prim wainscoted +parlour, where her father and Mr. Whitelaw were solemnly sipping their +wine, to wander over the house with Mrs. Tadman. + +It was about four o'clock when she slipped quietly out of the room at +that lady's invitation, and the lobbies and long passages had a shadowy +look in the declining light. There was light enough for her to see the +rooms, however; for there were no rare collections of old china, no +pictures or adornments of any kind, to need a minute inspection. + +"It's a fine old place, isn't it?" asked Mrs. Tadman. "There's not many +farmers can boast of such a house as Wyncomb." + +"It's large enough," Ellen answered, with a tone which implied the +reverse of admiration; "but it's not a place I should like to live in. +I'm not one to believe in ghosts or such nonsense, but if I could have +any such foolish thoughts, I should have them here. The house looks as if +it was haunted, somehow." + +Mrs. Tadman laughed a shrill hard laugh, and rubbed her skinny hands with +an air of satisfaction. + +"You're not easy to please, Miss Carley," she said; "most folks think a +deal of Wyncomb; for, you see, it's only them that live in a house as can +know how dull it is; and as to the place being haunted, I never heard +tell of anything of that kind. The Whitelaws ain't the kind of people to +come back to this world, unless they come to fetch their money, and then +they'd come fast enough, I warrant. I used to see a good deal of my +uncle, John Whitelaw, when I was a girl, and never did a son take after +his father closer than my cousin Stephen takes after him; just the same +saving prudent ways, and just the same masterful temper, always kept +under in that quiet way of his." + +As Ellen Carley showed herself profoundly indifferent to the lights and +shades of Mr. Whitelaw's character, Mrs. Tadman did not pursue the +subject, but with a gentle sigh led the way to another room, and so on +from room to room, till they had explored all that floor of the house. + +"There's the attics above; but you won't care to see _them_," she said. +"The shepherd and five other men sleep up there. Stephen thinks it keeps +them steadier sleeping under the same roof with their master; and he's +able to ring them up of a morning, and to know when they go to their +work. It's wearying for me to have to get up and see to their breakfasts, +but I can't trust Martha Holden to do that, or she'd let them eat us out +of house and home. There's no knowing what men like that can eat, and a +side of bacon would go as fast as if you was to melt it down to tallow. +But you must know what they are, Miss Carley, having to manage for your +father." + +"Yes," Ellen answered, "I'm used to hard work." + +"Ah," murmured the matron, with a sigh, "you'd have plenty of it, if you +came here." + +They were at the end of a long passage by this time; a passage leading to +the extreme end of the house, and forming part of that ivy-covered wing +which seemed older than the rest of the building. It was on a lower level +than the other part, and they had descended two or three steps at the +entrance to this passage. The ceilings were lower too, the beams that +supported them more massive, the diamond-paned windows smaller and more +heavily leaded, and there was a faint musty odour as of a place that was +kept shut up and uninhabited. + +"There's nothing more to see here," said Mrs. Tadman quickly; "I had +better go back. I don't know what brought me here; it was talking, I +suppose, made me come without thinking. There's nothing to show you this +way." + +"But there's another room there," Ellen said, pointing to a door just +before them--a heavy clumsily-made door, painted black. + +"That room--well, yes; it's a kind of a room, but hasn't been used for +fifty years and more, I've heard say. Stephen keeps seeds there and +such-like. It's always locked, and he keeps the key of it." + +There was nothing in this closed room to excite either curiosity or +interest in Ellen's mind, and she was turning away from the door with +perfect indifference, when she started and suddenly seized Mrs. Tadman's +arm. + +"Hark!" she said, in a frightened, breathless way; "did you hear that?" + +"What, child?" + +"Did you say there was no one in there--no one?" + +"Lord bless your heart, no, Miss Carley, nor ever is. What a turn you did +give me, grasping hold of my arm like that!" + +"I heard something in there--a footstep. It must be the servant." + +"What, Martha Holden! I should like to see her venturing into any room +Stephen keeps private to himself. Besides, that door's kept locked; try +it, and satisfy yourself." + +The door was indeed locked--a door with a clumsy old-fashioned latch, +securely fastened by a staple and padlock. Ellen tried it with her own +hand. + +"Is there no other door to the room?" she asked. + +"None; and only one window, that looks into the wood-yard, and is almost +always blocked up with the wood piled outside it. You must have heard the +muslin bags of seed blowing about, if you heard anything." + +"I heard a footstep," said Ellen firmly; "a human footstep. I told you +the house was haunted, Mrs. Tadman." + +"Lor, Miss Carley, I wish you wouldn't say such things; it's enough to +make one's blood turn cold. Do come downstairs and have a cup of tea. +It's quite dark, I declare; and you've given me the shivers with your +queer talk." + +"I'm sorry for that; but the noise I heard must have been either real or +ghostly, and you won't believe it's real." + +"It was the seed-bags, of course." + +"They couldn't make a noise like human footsteps. However, it's no +business of mine, Mrs. Tadman, and I don't want to frighten you." + +They went downstairs to the parlour, where the tea-tray and a pair of +candles were soon brought, and where Mrs. Tadman stirred the fire into a +blaze with an indifference to the consumption of fuel which made her +kinsman stare, even on that hospitable occasion. The blaze made the dark +wainscoted room cheerful of aspect, however, which the two candles could +not have done, as their light was almost absorbed by the gloomy +panelling. + +After tea there was whist again, and a considerable consumption of +spirits-and-water on the part of the two gentlemen, in which Mrs. Tadman +joined modestly, with many protestations, and, with the air of taking +only an occasional spoonful, contrived to empty her tumbler, and allowed +herself to be persuaded to take another by the bailiff, whose joviality +on the occasion was inexhaustible. + +The day's entertainment came to an end at last, to Ellen's inexpressible +relief; and her father drove her home in the yellow gig at rather an +alarming pace, and with some tendency towards heeling over into a ditch. +They got over the brief journey safely, however, and Mr. Carley was still +in high good humour. He went off to see to the putting up of his horse +himself, telling his daughter to wait till he came back, he had something +particular to say to her before she went to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +"WHAT MUST BE SHALL BE." + + +Ellen Carley waited in the little parlour, dimly lighted by one candle. +The fire had very nearly gone out, and she had some difficulty in +brightening it a little. She waited very patiently, wondering what her +father could have to say to her, and not anticipating much pleasure from +the interview. He was going to talk about Stephen Whitelaw and his +hateful money perhaps. But let him say what he would, she was prepared to +hold her own firmly, determined to provoke him by no open opposition, +unless matters came to an extremity, and then to let him see at once and +for ever that her resolution was fixed, and that it was useless to +persecute her. + +"If I have to go out of this house to-night, I will not flinch," she said +to herself. + +She had some time to wait. It had been past midnight when they came home, +and it was a quarter to one when William Carley came into the parlour. He +was in an unusually communicative mood to-night, and had been +superintending the grooming of his horse, and talking to the underling +who had waited up to receive him. + +He was a little unsteady in his gait as he came into the parlour, and +Ellen knew that he had drunk a good deal at Wyncomb. It was no new thing +for her to see him in this condition unhappily, and the shrinking +shuddering sensation with which he inspired her to-night was painfully +familiar. + +"It's very late, father," she said gently, as the bailiff flung himself +heavily into an arm-chair by the fire-place. "If you don't want me for +anything particular, I should be glad to go to bed." + +"Would you, my lass?" he asked grimly. "But, you see, I do want you for +something particular, something uncommon particular; so there's no call +for you to be in a hurry. Sit down yonder," he added, pointing to the +chair opposite his own. "I've got something to say to you, something +serious." + +"Father," said the girl, looking him full in the face, pale to the lips, +but very firm, "I don't think you're in a state to talk seriously of +anything." + +"O, you don't, don't you, Miss Impudence? You think I'm drunk, perhaps. +You'll find that, drunk or sober, I've only one mind about you, and that +I mean to be obeyed. Sit down, I tell you. I'm not in the humour to stand +any nonsense to-night. Sit down." + +Ellen obeyed this mandate, uttered with a fierceness unusual even in Mr. +Carley, who was never a soft-spoken man. She seated herself quietly on +the opposite side of the hearth, while her father took down his pipe from +the chimney-piece, and slowly filled it, with hands that trembled a +little over the accustomed task. + +When he had lighted the pipe, and smoked about half-a-dozen whiffs with a +great assumption of coolness, he addressed himself to his daughter in an +altered and conciliating tone. + +"Well, Nelly," he said, "you've had a rare day at Wyncomb, and a regular +ramble over the old house with Steph's cousin. What do you think of it?" + +"I think it's a queer gloomy old place enough, father. I wonder there's +any one can live in it. The dark bare-looking rooms gave me the horrors. +I used to think this house was dull, and seemed as if it was haunted; but +it's lively and gay as can be, compared to Wyncomb." + +"Humph!" muttered the bailiff. "You're a fanciful young lady, Miss Nell, +and don't know a fine substantial old house when you see one. Life's come +a little too easy to you, perhaps. It might have been better for you if +you'd seen more of the rough side. Being your own missus too soon, and +missus of such a place as this, has spoiled you a bit. I tell you, Nell, +there ain't a better house in Hampshire than Wyncomb, though it mayn't +suit your fanciful notions. Do you know the size of Stephen Whitelaw's +farm?" + +"No, father; I've never thought about it." + +"What do you say to three hundred acres--over three hundred, nigher to +four perhaps?" + +"I suppose it's a large farm, father. But I know nothing about such +things." + +"You suppose it's large, and you know nothing about such things!" cried +the bailiff, with an air of supreme irritation. "I don't believe any man +was ever plagued with such an aggravating daughter as mine. What do you +say to being mistress of such a place, girl?--mistress of close upon four +hundred acres of land; not another man's servant, bound to account for +every blade of grass and every ear of corn, as I am, but free and +independent mistress of the place, with the chance of being left a widow +by and by, and having it all under your own thumb; what do you say to +that?" + +"Only the same that I have always said, father. Nothing would ever +persuade me to marry Stephen Whitelaw. I'd rather starve." + +"And you shall starve, if you stick to that," roared William Carley with +a blasphemous oath. "But you won't be such a fool, Nell. You'll hear +reason; you won't stand out against your poor old father and against your +own interests. The long and the short of it is, I've given Whitelaw my +promise that you shall be his wife between this and Easter." + +"What!" exclaimed Ellen, with a faint cry of horror; "you don't mean that +you've promised that, father! You can't mean it!" + +"I can and do mean it, lass." + +"Then you've made a promise that will never be kept. You might have known +as much when you made it. I'm sure I've been plain-spoken enough about +Stephen Whitelaw." + +"That was a girl's silly talk. I didn't think to find you a fool when I +came to the point. I let you have your say, and looked to time to bring +you to reason. Come, Nell, you're not going against your father, are +you?" + +"I must, father, in this. I'd rather die twenty deaths than marry that +man. There's nothing I wouldn't rather do." + +"Isn't there? You'd rather see your father in gaol, I suppose, if it came +to that?" + +"See you in gaol!" cried the girl aghast. "For heaven's sake, what do you +mean, father? What fear is there of your being sent to prison, because I +won't marry Stephen Whitelaw? I'm not a baby," she added, with a +hysterical laugh; "you can't frighten me like that." + +"No; you're a very wise young woman, I daresay; but you don't know +everything. You've seen me downhearted and out of sorts for this last +half-year; but I don't suppose you've troubled yourself much about it, +except to worry me with silly questions sometimes, when I've not been in +the humour to be talked to. Things have been going wrong with me ever +since hay-harvest, and I haven't sent Sir David sixpence yet for last +year's crops. I've put him off with one excuse after another from month +to month. He's a careless master enough at most times, and never +over-sharp with my accounts. But the time has come when I can't put him +off any longer. He wants money badly, he says; and I'm afraid he begins +to suspect something. Any way, he talks of coming here in a week or so to +look into things for himself. If he does that, I'm ruined." + +"But the money, father--the money for the crops--how has it gone? You had +it, haven't you?" + +"Yes," the bailiff answered with a groan; "I've had it, worse luck." + +"And how has it gone?" + +"What's that to you? What's the good of my muddling my brains with +figures to-night? It's gone, I tell you. You know I'm fond of seeing a +race, and never miss anything in that way that comes-off within a day's +drive of this place. I used to be pretty lucky once upon a time, when I +backed a horse or bet against one. But this year things have gone dead +against me; and my bad luck made me savage somehow, so that I went deeper +than I've been before, thinking to get back what I'd lost." + +"O, father, father! how could you, and with another man's money?" + +"Don't give me any of your preaching," the bailiff answered gloomily; "I +can get enough of that at Malsham Chapel if I want it. It's in your power +to pull me through this business if you choose." + +"How can I do that, father?" + +"A couple of hundred pounds will set me square. I don't say there hasn't +been more taken, first and last; but that would do it. Stephen Whitelaw +would lend me the money--give it me, indeed, for it comes to that--the +day he gets your consent to be his wife." + +"And you'd sell me to him for two hundred pounds, father?" the girl asked +bitterly. + +"I don't want to go to gaol." + +"And if you don't get the money from Stephen, what will happen?" + +"I can't tell you that to a nicety. Penal servitude for life, most +likely. They'd call mine a bad case, I daresay." + +"But Sir David might be merciful to you, father. You've served him for +along time." + +"What would he care for that? I've had his money, and he's not a man that +can afford to lose much. No, Nell, I look for no mercy from Sir David; +those careless easy-going men are generally the hardest in such a +business as this. It's a clear case of embezzlement, and nothing can save +me unless I can raise money enough to satisfy him." + +"Couldn't you borrow it of some one else besides Stephen Whitelaw?" + +"Who else is there that would lend me two hundred pounds? Ask yourself +that, girl. Why, I haven't five pounds' worth of security to offer." + +"And Mr. Whitelaw will only lend the money upon one condition?" + +"No, curse him!" cried William Carley savagely. "I've been at him all +this afternoon, when you and that woman were out of the room, trying to +get it out of him as a loan, without waiting for your promise; but he's +too cautious for that. 'The day Ellen gives her consent, you shall have +the money,' he told me; 'I can't say anything fairer than that or more +liberal.'" + +"He doesn't suspect why you want it, does he, father?" Ellen asked with a +painful sense of shame. + +"Who can tell what he may suspect? He's as deep as Satan," said the +bailiff, with a temporary forgetfulness of his desire to exhibit this +intended son-in-law of his in a favourable light. "He knows that I want +the money very badly; I couldn't help his knowing that; and he must think +it's something out of the common that makes me want two hundred pounds." + +"I daresay he guesses the truth," Ellen said, with a profound sigh. + +It seemed to her the bitterest trial of all, that her father's +wrong-doing should be known to Stephen Whitelaw. That hideous prospect of +the dock and the gaol was far off as yet; she had not even begun to +realise it; but she did fully realise the fact of her father's shame, and +the blow seemed to her a heavy one, heavier than she could bear. + +For some minutes there was silence between father and daughter. The girl +sat with her face hidden in her hands; the bailiff smoked his pipe in +sullen meditation. + +"Is there no other way?" Ellen asked at last, in a plaintive despairing +tone; "no other way, father?" + +"None," growled William Carley. "You needn't ask me that question again; +there is no other way; you can get me out of my difficulties if you +choose. I should never have been so venturesome as I was, if I hadn't +made sure my daughter would soon be a rich woman. You can save me if you +like, or you can hold-off and let me go to prison. There's no good +preaching about it or arguing about it; you've got the choice and you +must make it. Most young women in your place would think themselves +uncommon lucky to have such a chance as you've got, instead of making a +trouble about it, let alone being able to get their father out of a +scrape. But you're your own mistress, and you must do as you please." + +"Let me have time to think," the girl pleaded piteously; "let me have +only a little time to think, father. And you do believe that I'm sorry +for you, don't you?" she asked, kneeling beside him and clasping his +unwilling hand. "O father, I hope you believe that!" + +"I shall know what to believe when I know what you're going to do," the +bailiff answered moodily; and his daughter knew him too well to hope for +any more gracious speech than this. + +She bade him good-night, and went slowly up to her own room to spend the +weary wakeful hours in a bitter struggle, praying that she might be +enlightened as to what she ought to do; praying that she might die rather +than become the wife of Stephen Whitelaw. + +When she and her father met at breakfast in the dull gray January +morning, his aspect was even darker than it had been on the previous +night; but he did not ask her if she had arrived at any conclusion. He +took his meal in sullen silence, and left her without a word. + +They met again a little before noon, at which hour it was Mr. Carley's +habit to consume a solid luncheon. He took his seat in the same gloomy +silence that he had preserved at breakfast-time, but flung an open letter +across the table towards his daughter. + +"Am I to read this?" she asked gently. + +"Yes, read it, and see what I've got to look to." + +The letter was from Sir David Forster; an angry one, revealing strong +suspicions of his agent's dishonesty, and announcing that he should be at +the Grange on the fifth of the month, to make a close investigation of +all matters connected with the bailiff's administration. It was a letter +that gave little hope of mercy, and Ellen Carley felt that it was so. She +saw that there were no two sides to the question: she must save her +father by the utter sacrifice of her own feelings, or suffer him to +perish. + +She sat for some minutes in silence, with Sir David's letter in her hand, +staring blankly at the lines in a kind of stupor; while her father ate +cold roast-beef and pickled-cabbage--she wondered how he could eat at +such a time--looking up at her furtively every now and then. + +At last she laid down the letter, and lifted her eyes to his face. A +deadly whiteness and despair had come over the bright soubrette beauty, +and even William Carley's hard nature was moved a little by the altered +expression of his daughter's countenance. + +"It must be as you wish, father," she said slowly; "there is no help for +it; I cannot see you brought to disgrace. Stephen Whitelaw must have the +price he asks for his money." + +"That's a good lass," cried the bailiff, springing up and clasping his +daughter in his arms, a most unusual display of affection on his part; +"that's bravely spoken, Nell, and you never need repent the choice +that'll make you mistress of Wyncomb Farm, with a good home to give your +father in his old age." + +The girl drew herself hastily from his embrace, and turned away from him +with a shudder. He was her father, and there was something horrible in +the idea of his disgrace; but there was very little affection for him in +her mind. He was willing to sell her into bondage in order to save +himself. It was in this light she regarded the transaction with Stephen +Whitelaw. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +DOUBTFUL INFORMATION. + + +The early days of the new year brought little change in John Saltram's +condition. Mr. Mew, and the physician who saw him once in every three +days, seemed perhaps a shade more hopeful than they had been, but would +express no decided opinion when Gilbert pressed them with close +questioning. The struggle was still going on--the issue still doubtful. + +"If we could keep the mind at rest," said the physician, "we should have +every chance of doing better; but this constant restlessness, this +hyper-activity of the brain, of which you and Mr. Mew tell me, must needs +make a perpetual demand upon the patient's physical powers. The waste is +always going on. We cannot look for recovery until we obtain more +repose." + +Several weeks had passed since the beginning of John Saltram's illness, +and there were no tidings from Mr. Medler. Every day Gilbert had expected +some communication from that practitioner, only to be disappointed. He +had called twice in Soho, and on both occasions had been received by a +shabby-looking clerk, who told him that Mr. Medler was out, and not +likely to come home within any definite time. He was inclined to fancy, +by the clerk's manner on his second visit, that there was some desire to +avoid an interview on Mr. Medler's part; and this fancy made him all the +more anxious to see that gentleman. He did not, therefore, allow much +time to elapse between this second visit to the dingy chambers in Soho +and a third. This time he was more fortunate; for he saw the lawyer let +himself in at the street-door with his latch-key, just as the cab that +drove him approached the house. + +The same shabby clerk opened the door to him. + +"I want to see your master," he said decisively, making a move towards +the office-door. + +The clerk contrived to block his way. + +"I beg your pardon, sir, I don't think Mr. Medler's in; but I'll go and +see." + +"You needn't give yourself the trouble. I saw your master let himself in +at this door a minute ago. I suppose you were too busy to hear him come +in." + +The clerk coughed a doubtful kind of cough, significant of perplexity. + +"Upon my word, sir, I believe he's out; but I'll see." + +"Thanks; I'd rather see myself, if you please," Gilbert said, passing the +perturbed clerk before that functionary could make up his mind whether he +ought to intercept him. + +He opened the office-door and went in. Mr. Medler was sitting at his +desk, bending over some formidable document, with the air of a man who is +profoundly absorbed by his occupation; with the air also, Gilbert +thought, of a man who has been what is vernacularly called "on the +listen." + +"Good-morning, Mr. Medler," Gilbert said politely; "your clerk had such a +conviction of your being out, that I had some difficulty in convincing +him you were at home." + +"I've only just come in; I suppose Lucas didn't hear me." + +"I suppose not; I've been here twice before in search of you, as I +conclude you have been told. I have expected to hear from you daily." + +"Well, yes--yes," replied the lawyer in a meditative way; "I am aware +that I promised to write--under certain circumstances." + +"Am I to conclude, then, that you were silent because you had nothing to +communicate? that you have obtained no tidings of any kind respecting +Mrs. Holbrook?" + +Mr. Medler coughed; a cough no less expressive of embarrassment than that +of his clerk. + +"Why, you see, Mr. Fenton," he began, crossing his legs, and rubbing his +hands in a very deliberate manner, "when I made that promise with +reference to Mrs. Holbrook, I made it of course without prejudice to the +interests or inclinations of my client. I might be free to communicate to +you any information I received upon this subject--or I might find myself +pledged to withhold it." + +Gilbert's face flushed with sudden excitement. + +"What!" he cried, "do you mean to say that you have solved the mystery of +Marian Holbrook's fate? that you know her to be alive--safe--well, and +have kept back the knowledge from me?" + +"I have been compelled to submit to the wishes of my client. I will not +say that I have not offered considerable opposition to her desire upon +this point, but finding her resolution fixed, I was bound to respect it." + +"She is safe--then all this alarm has been needless? You have seen her?" + +"Yes, Mr. Fenton, I have seen her." + +"And she--she forbade you to let me know of her safety? She was willing +that I should suffer all the anguish of uncertainty as to her fate? I +could not have believed her so unkind." + +"Mrs. Holbrook had especial reasons for wishing to avoid all +communication with former acquaintances. She explained those reasons to +me, and I fully concurred in them." + +"She might have such reasons with regard to other people; she could have +none with reference to me." + +"Pardon me, she mentioned your name in a very particular manner." + +"And yet she has had good cause to trust in my fidelity." + +"She has a very great respect and esteem for you, I am aware. She said as +much to me. But her reasons for keeping her affairs to herself just now +are quite apart from her personal feeling for yourself." + +"I cannot understand this. I am not to see her then, I suppose; not to be +told her address?" + +"No; I am strictly forbidden to disclose her address to any one." + +"Yet you can positively assure me that she is in safety--her own +mistress--happy?" + +"She is in perfect safety--her own mistress--and as happy as it is +possible she can be under the unfortunate circumstances of her married +life. She has left her husband for ever; I will venture to tell you so +much as that." + +"I am quite aware of that fact." + +"How so? I thought Mr. Holbrook was quite unknown to you?" + +"I have learnt a good deal about him lately." + +"Indeed!" exclaimed the lawyer, with a genuine air of surprise. + +"But of course your client has been perfectly frank in her communications +with you upon this subject?" Gilbert said. "Yes; I know that Mrs. +Holbrook has left her husband, but I did not for a moment suppose she +had left him of her own free will. From my knowledge of her character +and sentiments, that is just the last thing I could have imagined +possible. There was no quarrel between them; indeed, she was expecting +his return with delight at the very time when she left her home in +Hampshire. The thought of sharing her fortune with him was one of +perfect happiness. How can you explain her abrupt flight from him in the +face of this?" + +"I am not free to explain matters, Mr. Fenton," answered the lawyer; "you +must be satisfied with the knowledge that the lady about whom you have +been so anxious is safe." + +"I thank God for that," Gilbert said earnestly; "but that, knowledge of +itself is not quite enough. I shall be uneasy so long as there is this +secrecy and mystery surrounding her fate. There is something in this +sudden abandonment of her husband which is painfully inexplicable to me." + +"Mrs. Holbrook may have received some sudden revelation of her husband's +unworthiness. You are aware that a letter reached her a few hours before +she left Hampshire? There is no doubt that letter influenced her actions. +I do not mind admitting a fact which is so obvious." + +"The revelation that could move her to such a step must have been a very +startling one." + +"It was strong enough to decide her course," replied the lawyer gravely. + +"And you can assure me that she is in good hands?" Gilbert asked +anxiously. + +"I have every reason to suppose so. She is with her father." + +Mr. Medler announced this fact as if there were nothing extraordinary in +it. Gilbert started to his feet. + +"What!" he exclaimed; "she is with Mr. Nowell--the father who neglected +her in her youth, who of course seeks her now only for the sake of her +fortune? And you call that being in good hands, Mr. Medler? For my own +part, I cannot imagine a more dangerous alliance. When did Percival +Nowell come to England?" + +"A very short time ago. I have only been aware of his return within the +last two or three weeks. His first step on arriving in this country was +to seek for his daughter." + +"Yes; when he knew that she was rich, no doubt." + +"I do not think that he was influenced by mercenary motives," the lawyer +said, with a calm judicial air. "Of course, as a man of the world, I am +not given to look at such matters from a sentimental point of view. But I +really believe that Mr. Nowell was anxious to find his daughter, and to +atone in some measure for his former neglect." + +"A very convenient repentance," exclaimed Gilbert, with a short bitter +laugh. "And his first act is to steal his daughter from her home, and +hide her from all her former friends. I don't like the look of this +business, Mr. Medler; I tell you so frankly." + +"Mr. Nowell is my client, you must remember, Mr. Fenton. I cannot consent +to listen to any aspersion of his character, direct or indirect." + +"And you positively refuse to tell me where Mrs. Holbrook is to be +found?" + +"I am compelled to respect her wishes as well as those of her father." + +"She has been placed in possession of her property, I suppose?" + +"Yes; her grandfather's will has been proved, and the estate now stands +in her name. There was no difficulty about that--no reason for delay." + +"Will you tell me if she is in London?" Gilbert asked impatiently. + +"Pardon me, my dear sir, I am pledged to say nothing about Mrs. +Holbrook's whereabouts." + +Gilbert gave a weary sigh. + +"Well, I suppose it is useless to press the question, Mr. Medler," he +said. "I can only repeat that I don't like the look of this business. +Your client, Mr. Nowell, must have a very strong reason for secrecy, and +my experience of life has shown me that there is very seldom mystery +without wrong doing of some kind behind it. I thank God that Mrs. +Holbrook is safe, for I suppose I must accept your assurance that she is +so; but until her position is relieved from all this secrecy, I shall not +cease to feel uneasy as to her welfare. I am glad, however, that the +issue of events has exonerated her husband from any part in her +disappearance." + +He was glad to know this--glad to know that however base a traitor to +himself, John Saltram had not been guilty of that deeper villany which he +had at times been led to suspect. + +Gilbert Fenton left Mr. Medler's office a happier man than when he had +entered it, and yet only half satisfied. It was a great thing to know +that Marian was safe; but he would have wished her in the keeping of +any one rather than of him whom the world would have called her natural +protector. + +Nor was his opinion of Mr. Medler by any means an exalted one. No +assertion of that gentleman inspired him with heart-felt confidence; and +he had not left the lawyer's office long before he began to ask himself +whether there was truth in any portion of the story he had heard, or +whether he was not the dupe of a lie. + +Strange that Marian's father should have returned at so opportune a +moment; still more strange that Marian should suddenly desert the husband +she had so devotedly loved, and cast in her lot with a father of whom she +knew nothing but his unkindness. What if this man Medler had been lying +to him from first to last, and was plotting to get old Jacob Nowell's +fortune into his own hands? + +"I must find her," Gilbert said to himself; "I must be certain that she +is in safe hands. I shall know no rest till I have found her." + +Harassed and perplexed beyond measure, he walked through the busy streets +of that central district for some time without knowing where he was +going, and without the faintest purpose in his steps. Then the notion +suddenly flashed upon him that he might hear something of Percival +Nowell at the shop in Queen Anne's Court, supposing the old business to +be still carried on there under the sway of Mr. Tulliver; and it seemed +too early yet for the probability of any change in that quarter. + +Gilbert was in the Strand when this notion occurred to him. He turned his +steps immediately, and went back to Wardour-street, and thence to the +dingy court where he had first discovered Marian's grandfather. + +There was no change; the shop looked exactly the same as it had looked in +the lifetime of Jacob Nowell. There were the same old guineas in the +wooden bowl, the same tarnished tankards and teapots on view behind the +wire-guarded glass, the same obscure hints of untold riches within, in +the general aspect of the place. + +Mr. Tulliver darted forward from his usual lurking-place as Gilbert went +in at the door. + +"O!" he exclaimed, with undisguised disappointment, "it's you, is it, +sir? I thought it was a customer." + +"I am sorry to disappoint your expectation of profit. I have looked in to +ask you two or three questions, Mr. Tulliver; that is all." + +"Any information in my power I'm sure I shall be happy to afford, sir. +Won't you be pleased to take a seat?" + +"How long is it since you saw Mr. Nowell, your former employer's son?" +Gilbert asked, dropping into the chair indicated by the shopman, and +coming at once to the point. + +Mr. Tulliver was somewhat startled by the question. That was evident, +though he was not a man who wore his heart upon his sleeve. + +"How long is it since I've seen Mr. Nowell--Mr. Percival Nowell, sir?" he +repeated, staring thoughtfully at his questioner. + +"Yes; you need not be afraid to speak freely to me; I know Mr. Nowell is +in London." + +"Well, sir, I've not seen him often since his father's death." + +Since his father's death! And according to Mr. Medler, Jacob Nowell's son +had only arrived in England after the old man's death;--or stay, the +lawyer had declared that he had been only aware of Percival's return +within the last two or three weeks. That was a different thing, of +course; yet was it likely this man could have returned, and his father's +lawyer have remained ignorant of his arrival? + +Gilbert did not allow the faintest expression of surprise to appear on +his countenance. + +"Not often since your master's death: but how often before?" + +"Well, he used to come in pretty often before the old man died; but they +were both of 'em precious close. Mr. Percival never let out that he was +my master's son, but I guessed as much before he'd been here many times." + +"How was it that I never came across him?" + +"Chance, I suppose; but he's a deep one. If you'd happened to come in +when he was here, I daresay he'd have contrived to slip away somehow +without your seeing him." + +"When did he come here last?" asked Gilbert. + +"About a fortnight ago. He came with Mr. Medler, the lawyer, who +introduced him formally as my master's son; and they took possession of +the place between them for Mrs. Holbrook, making an arrangement with me +to carry on the business, and making precious hard terms too." + +"Have you seen Mrs. Holbrook since that morning when she left London for +Hampshire, immediately after her grandfather's death?" + +"Never set eyes on her since then; but she's in London, they told me, +living with her father. She came up to claim the property. I say, the +husband must be rather a curious party, mustn't he, to stand that kind of +thing, and part company with her just when she's come into a fortune?" + +"Have you any notion where Mrs. Holbrook or her father is to be found? I +should be glad to make you a handsome present if you could enlighten me +upon that point." + +"I wish I could, sir. No, I haven't the least idea where the gentleman +hangs out. Oysters ain't closer than that party. I thought he'd get his +paw upon his father's money, somehow, when I used to see him hanging +about this place. But I don't believe the old man ever meant him to have +a sixpence of it." + +There was very little satisfaction, to be obtained from Mr. Tulliver; and +except as to the one fact of Percival Nowell's return, Gilbert left +Queen Anne's Court little wiser than when he entered it. + +Brooding upon the revelations of that day as he walked slowly westward, +he began to think that Percival and Mr. Medler had been in league from +the time of the prodigal son's return, and that his own exclusion from +the will as executor, and the substitution of the lawyer's name, had been +brought about for no honourable purpose. What would a weak inexperienced +woman be between two such men? or what power could Marian have, once +under her father's influence, to resist his will? How she had fallen +under that influence so completely as to leave her husband and her quiet +country home, without a word of explanation, was a difficult question to +answer; and Gilbert Fenton meditated upon it with a troubled mind. + +He walked westward, indifferent where he went in the perplexity of his +thoughts, anxious to walk off a little of his excitement if he could, +and to return to his sick charge in the temple in a calmer frame of mind. +It was something gained, at the worst, to be able to return to John +Saltram's bedside freed from that hideous suspicion which had tormented +him of late. + +Walking thus, he found himself, towards the close of the brief winter +day, at the Marble Arch. He went through the gate into the empty Park, +and was crossing the broad road near the entrance, when an open carriage +passed close beside him, and a woman's voice called to the coachman to +stop. + +The carriage stopped so abruptly and so near him that he paused and +looked up, in natural wonderment at the circumstance. A lady dressed in +mourning was leaning forward out of the carriage, looking eagerly after +him. A second glance showed him that this lady was Mrs. Branston. + +"How do you do, Mr. Fenton," she cried, holding out her little +black-gloved hand: "What an age since I have seen you! But you have not +forgotten me, I hope?" + +"That is quite impossible, Mrs. Branston. If I had not been very much +absorbed in thought just now, I should have recognised you sooner. It was +very kind of you to stop to speak to me." + +"Not at all. I have something most particular to say to you. If you are +not in a very great hurry, would you mind getting into the carriage, and +letting me drive you round the Park? I can't keep you standing in the +road to talk." + +"I am in no especial hurry, and I shall be most happy to take a turn +round the Park with you." + +Mrs. Branston's footman opened the carriage-door, and Gilbert took his +seat opposite the widow, who was enjoying her afternoon drive alone for +once in a way; a propitious toothache having kept Mrs. Pallinson within +doors. + +"I have been expecting to see you for ever so long, Mr. Fenton. Why do +you never call upon me?" the pretty little widow began, with her usual +frankness. + +"I have been so closely occupied lately; and even if I had not been so, I +should have scarcely expected to find you in town at this unfashionable +season." + +"I don't care the least in the world for fashion," Mrs. Branston said, +with an impatient shrug of her shoulders. "That is only an excuse of +yours, Mr. Fenton; you completely forgot my existence, I have no doubt. +All my friends desert me now-a-days--older friends than you. There is Mr. +Saltram, for instance. I have not seen him for--O, not for ever so long," +concluded the widow, blushing in the dusk as she remembered that visit of +hers to the Temple--that daring step which ought to have brought John +Saltram so much nearer to her, but which had resulted in nothing but +disappointment and regret--bitter regret that she should have cast her +womanly pride into the very dust at this man's feet to no purpose. + +But Adela Branston was not a proud woman; and even in the midst of her +regret for having done this foolish thing, she was always ready to make +excuses for the man she loved, always in danger of committing some new +folly in his behalf. + +Gilbert Fenton felt for the poor foolish little woman, whose fair face +was turned to him with such a pleading look in the wintry twilight. He +knew that what he had to tell her must needs carry desolation to her +heart--knew that in the background of John Saltram's life there lurked +even a deeper cause of grief for this gentle impressionable little soul. + +"You will not wonder that Mr. Saltram has not called upon you lately when +you know the truth," he said gravely: "he has been very ill." + +Mrs. Branston clasped her hands, with a faint cry of terror. + +"Very ill--that means dangerously ill?" + +"Yes; for some time he was in great danger. I believe that is past now; +but I am not quite sure of his safety even yet. I can only hope that he +may recover." + +Hope that he might recover, yes; but to be a friend of his, Gilbert's, +never more. It was a dreary prospect at best. John Saltram would recover, +to seek and reclaim his wife, and then those two must needs pass for ever +out of Gilbert Fenton's life. The story would be finished, and his own +part of it bald enough to be told on the fly-leaf at the end of the book. + +Mrs. Branston bore the shock of his ill news better than Gilbert had +expected. There is good material even in the weakest of womankind when +the heart is womanly and true. + +She was deeply shocked, intensely sorry; and she made no attempt to mask +her sorrow by any conventional speech or pretence whatsoever. She made +Gilbert give her all the details of John Saltram's illness, and when he +had told her all, asked him plainly if she might be permitted to see the +sick man. + +"Do let me see him, if it is possible," she said; "it would be such a +comfort to me to see him." + +"I do not say such a thing is not possible, my dear Mrs. Branston; but I +am sure it would be very foolish." + +"O, never mind that; I am always doing foolish things. It would only be +one folly more, and would hardly count in my history. Dear Mr. Fenton, do +let me see him." + +"I don't think you quite know what you are asking, Mrs. Branston. Such a +sick-bed as John Saltram's would be a most painful scene for you. He has +been delirious from the beginning of his illness, and is so still. He +rarely has an interval of anything like consciousness, and in all the +time that I have been with him has never yet recognised me; indeed, +there are moments when I am inclined to fear that his brain may be +permanently deranged." + +"God forbid!" exclaimed Adela, in a voice that was choked with tears. + +"Yes, such a result as that would be indeed a sore calamity. I have every +wish to set your mind at ease, believe me, Mrs. Branston, but in John +Saltram's present state I am sure it would be ill-advised for you to see +him." + +"Of course I cannot press the question if you say that," Adela answered +despondently; "but I should have been so glad if you could have allowed +me to see him. Not that I pretend to the smallest right to do so; but we +were very good friends once--before my husband's death. He has changed to +me strangely since that time." + +Gilbert felt that it was almost cruel to keep this poor little soul in +utter ignorance of the truth. He did not consider himself at liberty to +say much; but some vague word of warning might serve as a slight check +upon the waste of feeling which was going on in the widow's heart. + +"There may be a reason for that change, Mrs. Branston," he said. "Mr. +Saltram may have formed some tie of a kind to withdraw him from all other +friendships." + +"Some attachment, you mean!" exclaimed the widow; "some other +attachment," she added, forgetting how much the words betrayed. "Do you +think that, Mr. Fenton? Do you think that John Saltram has some secret +love-affair upon his mind?" + +"I have some reason to suspect as much, from words that he has dropped +during his delirium." + +There was a look of unspeakable pain in Mrs. Branston's face, which had +grown deadly pale when Gilbert first spoke of John Saltram's illness. The +pretty childish lips quivered a little, and her companion knew that she +was suffering keenly. + +"Have you any idea who the lady is?" she asked quietly, and with more +self-command than Gilbert had expected from her. + +"I have some idea." + +"It is no one whom I know, I suppose?" + +"The lady is quite a stranger to you." + +"He might have trusted me," she said mournfully; "it would have been +kinder in him to have trusted me." + +"Yes, Mrs. Branston; but Mr. Saltram has unfortunately made concealment +the policy of his life. He will find it a false policy sooner or late." + +"It was very cruel of him not to tell me the truth. He might have known +that I should look kindly upon any one he cared for. I may be a very +foolish woman, Mr. Fenton, but I am not ungenerous." + +"I am sure of that," Gilbert said warmly, touched by her candour. + +"You must let me know every day how your friend is going on, Mr. Fenton," +Adela said after a pause; "I shall consider it a very great favour if you +will do so." + +"I will not fail." + +They had returned to Cumberland-gate by this time, and at Gilbert's +request Mrs. Branston allowed him to be set down near the Arch. He called +a cab, and drove to the Temple; while poor Adela went back to the +splendid gloom of Cavendish-square, with all the fabric of her future +life shattered. + +Until this hour she had looked upon John Saltram's fidelity to herself as +a certainty; she knew, now that her hope was slain all at once, what a +living thing it had been, and how great a portion of her own existence +had taken its colour therefrom. + +It was fortunate for Mrs. Branston that Mrs. Pallinson's toothache, and +the preparations and medicaments supplied to her by her son--all declared +to be infallible, and all ending in ignominious failure--occupied that +lady's attention at this period, to the exclusion of every other thought, +or Adela's pale face might have excited more curiosity than it did. As it +was, the matron contented herself by making some rather snappish remarks +upon the folly of going out to drive late on a January afternoon, and +retired to administer poultices and cataplasms to herself in the solitude +of her own apartment soon after dinner, leaving Adela Branston free to +ponder upon John Saltram's cruelty. + +"If he had only trusted me," she said to herself more than once during +those mournful meditations; "if he had only given me credit for some +little good sense and generosity, I should not feel it as keenly as I do. +He must have known that I loved him--yes, I have been weak enough to let +him see that--and I think that once he used to like me a little--in those +old happy days when he came so often to Maidenhead. Yes, I believe he +almost loved me then." + +And then the thought that this man was lying desperately ill, perhaps in +danger of death, blotted out every other thought. It was so bitter to +know him in peril, and to be powerless to go to him; worse than useless +to him were she by his side, since it was another whose image haunted his +wandering brain--another whose voice he longed to hear. + +She spent a sleepless melancholy night, and had no rest next day, until a +commissionnaire brought her a brief note from Gilbert Fenton, telling her +that if there were any change at all in the patient, it was on the side +of improvement. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +BOUGHT WITH A PRICE. + + +Ellen Carley was not allowed any time to take back the promise given to +her father, had she been inclined to do so. Mr. Whitelaw made his +appearance at the Grange early in the evening of the 2nd of January, with +a triumphant simper upon his insipid countenance, which was inexpressibly +provoking to the unhappy girl. It was clear to her, at first sight of +him, that her father had been at Wyncomb that afternoon, and her hateful +suitor came secure of success. His wooing was not a very romantic episode +in his commonplace existence. He did not even attempt to see Ellen alone; +but after he had been seated for about half-an-hour in the +chimney-corner, nestling close to the fire in a manner he much affected, +being of a particularly chilly temperament, given to shiver and turn blue +on the smallest provocation, he delivered himself solemnly of the +following address:-- + +"I make no doubt, Miss Carley, that you have taken notice for some time +past of my sentiments towards yourself. I have never made any secret of +those sentiments, neither have I talked much about them, not being a man +of many words. I used to fancy myself the very reverse of a marrying man, +and I don't say but what at this moment I think the man who lives and +dies a bachelor does the wisest for his own comfort and his own +prosperity. But we are not the masters of our feelings, Miss Carley. You +have growed upon me lately somehow, so that I've got not to care for my +life without you. Ask Mrs. Tadman if my appetite hasn't fell off within +this last six months to a degree that has frightened her; and a man of my +regular habits must be very far gone in love, Miss Carley, when his +appetite forsakes him. From the time I came to know you as a young woman, +in the bloom of a young woman's beauty, I said to myself, 'That's the +girl I'll marry, and no other.' Your father can bear me out in that, for +I said the same to him. And finding that I had his approval, I was +satisfied to bide my time, and wait till you came round to the same way +of thinking. Your father tells me yesterday afternoon, and again this +afternoon, that you have come round to that way of feeling. I hope he +hasn't deceived me, Miss Carley." + +This was a very long speech for Stephen Whitelaw. It was uttered in +little gasps or snatches of speech, the speaker stopping at the end of +every sentence to take breath. + +Ellen Carley sat on that side of the comfortable round table most remote +from Mr. Whitelaw, deadly pale, with her hands clasped before her. Once +she lifted her eyes with a piteous look to her father's face; but he was +smoking his pipe solemnly, with his gaze fixed upon the blazing logs in +the grate, and contrived not to see that mute despairing appeal. He had +not looked at his daughter once since Stephen Whitelaw's arrival, nor had +he made any attempt to prepare her for this visit, this rapid +consummation of the sacrifice. + +"Come, Miss Carley," said the former rather impatiently, after there had +been a dead silence of some minutes, "I want to get an answer direct from +your own lips. Your father hasn't been deceiving me, has he?" + +"No," Ellen said in a low voice, almost as if the reply were dragged from +her by some physical torture. "If my father has given you a promise for +me, I will keep it. But I don't want to deceive you, on my part, Mr. +Whitelaw," she went on in a somewhat firmer tone. "I will be your wife, +since you and my father have settled that it must be so; but I can +promise no more than that. I will be dutiful and submissive to you as a +wife, you may be sure--only----" + +Mr. Whitelaw smiled a very significant smile, which implied that it would +be his care to insure his wife's obedience, and that he was troubled by +no doubts upon that head. + +The bailiff broke-in abruptly at this juncture. + +"Lord bless the girl, what need is there of all this talk about what she +will be and what she won't be? She'll be as good a wife as any woman in +England, I'll stake my life upon that. She's been a good daughter, as all +the world knows, and a good daughter is bound to make a good wife. Say no +more about it, Nell. Stephen Whitelaw knows he'll make no bad bargain in +marrying you." + +The farmer received this remark with a loud sniff, expressive of offended +dignity. + +"Very likely not, William Carley," he said; "but it isn't every man that +can make your daughter mistress of such a place as Wyncomb; and such men +as could do it would look for money with a wife, however young and pretty +she might be. There's two sides to a bargain, you see, William, and I +should like things to be looked at in that light between you and me." + +"You've no call to take offence, Steph," answered the bailiff with a +conciliating grin. "I never said you wasn't a good match for my girl; but +a pretty girl and a prudent clever housekeeper like Nell is a fortune in +herself to any man." + +"Then the matter's settled, I suppose," said Mr. Whitelaw; "and the +sooner the wedding comes off the better, to my mind. If my wife that is +to be wants anything in the way of new clothes, I shall be happy to put +down a twenty-pound note--or I'd go as far as thirty--towards 'em." + +Ellen shook her head impatiently. + +"I want nothing new," she said; "I have as many things as I care to +have." + +"Nonsense, Nell," cried her father, frowning at her in a significant +manner to express his disapproval of this folly, and in so doing looking +at her for the first time since her suitor's advent. "Every young woman +likes new gowns, and of course you'll take Steph's friendly offer, and +thank him kindly for it. He knows that I'm pretty hard-up just now, and +won't be able to do much for you; and it wouldn't do for Mrs. Whitelaw of +Wyncomb to begin the world with a shabby turn-out." + +"Of course not," replied the farmer; "I'll bring you the cash to-morrow +evening, Nell; and the sooner you buy your wedding-gown the better. +There's nothing to wait for, you see. I've got a good home to take you +to. Mother Tadman will march, of course, between this and my wedding-day. +I sha'n't want her when I've a wife to keep house for me." + +"Of course not," said the bailiff. "Relations are always dangerous about +a place--ready to make mischief at every hand's turn." + +"O, Mr. Whitelaw, you won't turn her out, surely--your own flesh and +blood, and after so many years of service. She told me how hard she had +worked for you." + +"Ah, that's just like her," growled the farmer. "I give her a comfortable +home for all these years, and then she grumbles about the work." + +"She didn't grumble," said Ellen hastily. "She only told me how +faithfully she had served you." + +"Yes; that comes to the same thing. I should have thought you would have +liked to be mistress of your house, Nell, without any one to interfere +with you." + +"Mrs. Tadman is nothing to me," answered Ellen, who had been by no means +prepossessed by that worthy matron; "but I shouldn't like her to be +unfairly treated on my account." + +"Well, we'll think about it, Nell; there's no hurry. She's worth her +salt, I daresay." + +Mr. Whitelaw seemed to derive a kind of satisfaction from the utterance +of his newly-betrothed's Christian name, which came as near the rapture +of a lover as such a sluggish nature might be supposed capable of. To +Ellen there was something hideous in the sound of her own name spoken by +those hateful lips; but he had a sovereign right so to address her, now +and for evermore. Was she not his goods, his chattels, bought with a +price, as much as a horse at a fair? + +That nothing might be wanting to remind her of the sordid bargain, Mr. +Whitelaw drew a small canvas bag from his pocket presently--a bag which +gave forth that pleasant chinking sound that is sweet to the ears of so +many as the music of gold--and handed it across the hearth to William +Carley. + +"I'm as good as my word, you see," he said with a complacent air of +patronage. "There's the favour you asked me for; I'll take your IOU for +it presently, if it's all the same to you--as a matter of form--and to be +given back to you upon my wedding-day." + +The bailiff nodded assent, and dropped the bag into his pocket with a +sigh of relief. And then the two men went on smoking their pipes in the +usual stolid way, dropping out a few words now and then by way of social +converse; and there was nothing in Mr. Whitelaw's manner to remind Ellen +that she had bound herself to the awful apprenticeship of marriage +without love. But when he took his leave that night he approached her +with such an evident intention of kissing her as could not be mistaken by +the most inexperienced of maidens. Poor Ellen indulged in no girlish +resistance, no pretty little comedy of alarm and surprise, but +surrendered her pale lips to the hateful salute with the resignation of a +martyr. It was better that she should suffer this than that her father +should go to gaol. That thought was never absent from her mind. Nor was +this sacrifice to filial duty quite free from the leaven of selfishness. +For her own sake, as much as for her father's, Ellen Carley would have +submitted to any penalty rather than disgrace. To have him branded as a +thief must needs be worse suffering than any life-long penance she might +endure in matrimony. To lose Frank Randall's love was less than to let +him learn her father's guilt. + +"The daughter of a thief!" she said to herself. "How he would despise +himself for having ever loved me, if he knew me to be that!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +COMING ROUND. + + +Possessed with a thorough distrust of Mr. Medler and only half satisfied +as to the fact of Marian's safety, Gilbert Fenton lost no time in seeking +professional aid in the work of investigating this perplexing social +mystery. He went once more to the metropolitan detective who had been +with him in Hampshire, and whose labours there had proved so futile. The +task now to be performed seemed easy enough. Mr. Proul (Proul was the +name of the gentleman engaged by Gilbert) had only to discover the +whereabouts of Percival Nowell; a matter of no great difficulty, Gilbert +imagined, since it was most likely that Marian's father had frequent +personal communication with the lawyer; nor was it improbable that he +would have business with his agent or representative, Mr. Tulliver, in +Queen Anne's Court. Provided with these two addresses, Gilbert fancied +that Mr. Proul's work must needs be easy enough. + +That gentleman, however, was not disposed to make light of the duty +committed to him; whether from a professional habit of exaggerating the +importance of any mission undertaken by him, or in perfect singleness of +mind, it is not easy to say. + +"It's a watching business, you see sir," he told Gilbert, "and is pretty +sure to be tedious. I may put a man to hang about this Mr. Medler's +business all day and every day for a month at a stretch, and he may miss +his customer at the last, especially as you can't give me any kind of +description of the man you want." + +"Surely your agent could get some information out of Medler's clerk; it's +in his trade to do that kind of thing, isn't it?" + +"Well, yes, sir; I don't deny that I might put a man on to the clerk, and +it might answer. On the other hand, such a gentleman's clerk would be +likely to be uncommon well trained and uncommon little trusted." + +"But we want to know so little," Gilbert exclaimed impatiently; "only +where this man lives, and who lives with him." + +"Yes," murmured Mr. Proul, rubbing his chin thoughtfully; "it ain't much, +as you say, and it might be got out of the clerk, if the clerk knows it; +but as to Mrs. Holbrook having got away from Hampshire and come to +London, that's more than I can believe. I worked that business harder and +closer than ever I worked any business yet. You told me to spare neither +money nor time, and I didn't spare either; though it was more a question +of time than money, for my expenses were light enough, as you know. I +don't believe Mrs. Holbrook could have got away from Malsham station up +to the time when I left Hampshire. I'm pretty certain she couldn't have +left the place any other way than by rail; I'm more than certain she +couldn't have been living anywhere in the neighbourhood when I was +hunting for her. In short, it comes to this--I stick to my old opinion, +that the poor lady was drowned in Malsham river." + +This was just what Gilbert, happily for his own peace, could not bring +himself to believe. He was ready to confide in Mr. Medler as a model of +truth and honesty, rather than admit the possibility of Marian's death. + +"We have this man Medler's positive assertion, that Mrs. Holbrook is with +her father, you see, Mr. Proul," he said doubtfully. + +"_That_ for Medler's assertion!" exclaimed the detective contemptuously; +"there are lawyers in London who will assert anything for a +consideration. Let him produce the lady; and if he does produce her, I +give him leave to say that Thomas Henry Proul is incapable of his +business; or, putting it in vulgar English, that T.H.P. is a duffer. Of +course I shall carry out any business you like to trust me with, Mr. +Fenton, and carry it out thoroughly. I'll set a watch upon Mr. Medler's +offices, and I'll circumvent him by means of his clerk, if I can; but +it's my rooted conviction that Mrs. Holbrook never left Hampshire." + +This was discouraging; and with that ready power to adapt itself to +circumstances which is a distinguishing characteristic of the human mind, +Gilbert Fenton began to entertain a very poor opinion of the worthy +Proul's judgment. But not knowing any better person whose aid he could +enlist in this business, he was fain to confide his chances of success to +that gentleman, and to wait with all patience for the issue of events. +Much of this dreary interval of perpetual doubt and suspense was spent +beside John Saltram's sick bed. There were strangely mingled feelings in +the watcher's breast; a pitying regret that struggled continually with +his natural anger; a tender remembrance of past friendship, which he +despised as a shameful weakness in his nature, but could not banish from +his mind, as he sat in the stillness of the sick-room, watching the +helpless creature who had once kept as faithful a vigil for him. + +To John Saltram's recovery he looked also as to his best chance of +restoring Marian to her natural home. The influence that he himself was +powerless to bring to bear upon Percival Nowell's daughter might be +easily exerted by her husband. + +"She was lured away from him, perhaps, by some specious lie of her +father's, some cruel slander of the husband. There had been bitter words +between them. Saltram has betrayed as much in his wandering talk; but to +the last there was no feeling but love for him in her heart. Ellen Carley +is my witness for that; nothing less than some foul lie could have +tempted her away from him." + +In the meantime, pending the sick man's recovery, the grand point was to +discover the whereabouts of Marian and her father; and for this discovery +Gilbert was compelled to trust to the resources of the accomplished +Proul. So eager was he for the result, that if he could have kept a watch +upon Mr. Medler's office with his own eyes, he would have done so; but +this being out of the question, and the more prudent course a complete +avoidance of the lawyer's neighbourhood, he could only await the result +of his paid agent's researches, in the hope that Mr. Nowell was still in +London, and would have need of frequent communication with his late +father's solicitor. The first month of the year dragged itself slowly to +an end, and the great city underwent all those pleasing alternations, +from snow to mud, from the slipperiness of a city paved with plate-glass +to the sloppiness of a metropolis ankle-deep in a rich brown compound of +about the consistency and colour of mock-turtle soup, which are common +to great cities at this season; and still John Saltram lingered on in the +shabby solitude of his Temple chambers, slowly mending, Mr. Mew declared, +towards the end of the month, and in a fair way towards recovery. The +time came at last when the fevered mind began to cease from its perpetual +wanderings; when the weary brain, sorely enfeebled by its long interval +of unnatural activity, dropped suddenly into a state of calm that was +akin to apathy. + +The change came with an almost alarming suddenness. It was at the +beginning of February, close upon the dead small hours of a bleak windy +night, and Gilbert was keeping watch alone in the sick-room, while the +professional nurse slept comfortably on the sofa in the sitting-room. It +was his habit now to spend the early part of the night in such duty as +this, and to go home to bed between four and five in the morning, at +which time the nurse was ready to relieve guard. + +He had been listening to the dismal howling of the winds, threatening +damage to neighbouring chimney-pots of rickety constitution, and thinking +idly of the men that had come and gone amidst those old buildings, and +how few amongst them all had left any mark behind them; inclined to +speculate too how many of them had been men capable of better work than +they had done, only carelessly indifferent to the doing of it, like him +who lay on that bed yonder, with one muscular arm, powerful even in its +wasted condition, thrown wearily above his head, and an undefinable look, +that seemed half pain, half fatigue, upon his haggard face. + +Suddenly, while Gilbert Fenton was meditating in this idle desultory +manner, the sleeper awakened, looked full at him, and called him by his +name. + +"Gilbert," he said very quietly, "is it really you?" + +It was the first time, in all his long watches by that bed, that John +Saltram had recognised him. The sick man had talked of him often in his +delirium; but never before had he looked his former friend in the face +with one ray of recognition in his own. An indescribable thrill of pain +went through Gilbert's heart at the sound of that calm utterance of his +name. How sweet it would have been to him, what a natural thing it would +have seemed, to have fallen upon his old friend's breast and wept aloud +in the deep joy of this recovery! But they were friends no longer. He had +to remember how base a traitor this man had been to him. + +"Yes, John, it is I." + +"And you have been here for a long time. O God, how many months have I +been lying here? The time seems endless; and there have been so many +people round me--a crowd of strange faces--all enemies, all against me. +And people in the next room--that was the worst of all. I have never +seen them, but I have always known that they were there. They could not +deceive me as to that--hiding behind that door, and watching me as I lay +here. You might have turned them out, Gilbert," he added peevishly; "it +seems a hard thing that you could let them stay there to torment me." + +"There has been no one in either of the rooms, John; no one but myself +and the hired nurse, the doctors, and Mrs. Pratt now and then. These +people have no existence out of your sick fancy. You have been very ill, +delirious, for a long time. I thank God that your reason has been +restored to you; yes, I thank God with all my heart for that." + +"Have I been mad?" the other asked. + +"Your mind has wandered. But that has passed at last with the fever, as +the doctors hoped it might. You are calm now, and must try to keep +yourself quiet; there must be no more talk between us to-night." + +The sick man took no notice of this injunction; but for the time was not +disobedient, and lay for some minutes staring at the watcher's face with +a strange half-vacant smile upon his own. + +"Gilbert," he said at last, "what have they done with my wife? Why has +she been kept away from me?" + +"Your wife? Marian?" + +"Yes Marian. You know her name, surely. Did she know that I was ill, and +yet stayed away from me?" + +"Was her place here, John Saltram?--that poor girl whom you married under +a false name, whom you tried to hide from all the world. Have you ever +brought her here? Have you ever given her a wife's license, or a wife's +place? How many lies have you not told to hide that which any honest man +would have been proud to confess to all the world?" + +"Yes, I have lied to you about her, I have hidden my treasure. But it was +for your sake, Gilbert; it was for the sake of our old friendship. I +could not bear to lose you; I could not bear to stand revealed before you +as the weak wretch who betrayed your trust and stole your promised wife. +Yes, Gilbert, I have been guilty beyond all measure. I have looked you in +the face and told you lies. I wanted to keep you for my friend; I could +not stand the thought of a life-long breach between us. Gilbert, old +friend, have pity on me. I was weak--wicked, if you like--but I loved you +very dearly." + +He stretched out his bony hand with an appealing gesture, but it was not +taken. Gilbert sat with his head turned away, his face hidden from the +sick man. + +"Anything would have been better than the course you chose," he said at +last in a very quiet voice. "If she loved you better than me--than me, +who would have thought it so small a thing to lay down my life for her +happiness, or to stand aloof and keep the secret of my broken heart while +I blest her as the cherished wife of another--if you had certain reason +to be sure she loved you, you should have asserted your right to claim +her love like a man, and should have been prompt to tell me the bitter +truth. I am a man, and would have borne the blow as a man should bear it. +But to sneak into my place behind my back, to steal her away from me, to +marry her under a false name--a step that might go far to invalidate the +marriage, by the way--and then leave me to piece-out the broken story, +syllable by syllable, to suffer all the torture of a prolonged suspense, +all the wasted passion of anger and revenge against an imaginary enemy, +to find at last that the man I had loved and trusted, honoured and +admired beyond all other men throughout the best years of my life, was +the man who had struck this secret blow--it was the conduct of a villain +and a coward, John Saltram. I have no words to speak my contempt for so +base a betrayal. And when I remember your pretended sympathy, your +friendly counsel--O God! it was the work of a social Judas; nothing was +wanted but the kiss." + +"Yes," the other answered with a faint bitter laugh; "it was very bad. +Once having begun, you see, it was but to add one lie to another. +Anything seemed better than to tell you the truth. I fancied your +devotion for Marian would wear itself out much sooner than it did--that +you would marry some one else; and then I thought, when you were happy, +and had forgotten that old fancy, I would have confessed the truth, and +told you it was your friend who was your rival. It might have seemed easy +to you to forgive me under those happier circumstances, and so our old +friendship might never have been broken. I waited for that, Gilbert. +Don't suppose that it was not painful to me to act so base a part; don't +suppose that I did not suffer. I did--in a hundred ways. You have seen +the traces of that slow torture in my face. In every way I had sinned +from my weak desire to win my love and yet keep my friend; and God knows +the burden of my sin has been heavy upon me. I will tell you some day--if +ever I am strong enough for so many words, and if you will hear me out +patiently--the whole story of my temptation; how I struggled against it, +and only gave way at last when life seemed insupportable to me without +the woman I loved." + +After this he lay quiet again for some minutes, exhausted by having +spoken so long. All the factitious strength, which had made him loud and +violent in his delirium, was gone; he seemed as weak as a sick child. + +"Where is she?" he asked at last; "why doesn't she come to me? You have +not answered that question." + +"I have told you that her place is not here," Gilbert replied evasively. +"You have no right to expect her here, never having given her the right +to come." + +"No; it is my own fault. She is in Hampshire still, I suppose. Poor girl, +I would give the world to see her dear face looking down at me. I must +get well and go back to her. When shall I be strong enough to +travel?--to-morrow, or if not to-morrow, the next day; surely the next +day--eh, Gilbert?" + +He raised himself in the bed in order to read the answer in Gilbert's +face, but fell back upon the pillows instantly, exhausted by the effort. +Memory had only returned to him in part. It was clear that he had +forgotten the fact of Marian's disappearance,--a fact of which he had +seemed half-conscious long ago in his delirium. + +"How did you find out that Marian was my wife?" he asked presently, with +perfect calmness. "Who betrayed my secret?" + +"Your own lips, in your delirious talk of her, which has been incessant; +and if collateral evidence were needed to confirm your words, this, which +I found the other day marking a place in your Shakespeare." + +Gilbert took a scrap of ribbon from his breast, a ribbon with a blue +ground and a rosebud on it,--a ribbon which he had chosen himself for +Marian, in the brief happy days of their engagement. + +John Saltram contemplated the scrap of colour with a smile that was half +sombre, half ironical. + +"Yes, it was hers," he said; "she wore it round that slim swan's throat +of hers; and one morning, when I was leaving her in a particularly weak +frame of mind, I took it from her neck and brought it away in my bosom, +for the sake of having something about me that she had worn; and then I +put it in the book, you see, and forgot all about it. A fitting emblem of +my love--full of passion and fervour to-day, at the point of death +to-morrow. There have been times when I would have given the world to +undo what I had done, when my life seemed blighted by this foolish +marriage; and again, happier moments, when my wife was all the universe +to me, and I had not a thought or a dream beyond her. God bless her! You +will let me go to her, Gilbert, the instant I am able to travel, as soon +as I can drag myself anyhow from this bed to the railway? You will not +stand between me and my love?" + +"No, John Saltram; God knows, I have never thought of that." + +"And you knew I was a traitor--you knew it was my work that had destroyed +your scheme of happiness--and yet have been beside me, watching me +patiently through this wretched illness?" + +"That was a small thing to do You did as much, and a great deal more, +for me, when I was ill in Egypt. It was a mere act of duty." + +"Not of friendship. It was Christian charity, eh, Gilbert? If thine enemy +hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink; and so on. It was not the +act of a friend?" + +"No, John Saltram, between you and me there can never again be any such +word as friendship. What little I have done for you I think I would have +done for a stranger, had I found a stranger as helpless and unfriended as +I found you. I am quite sure that to have done less would have been to +neglect a sacred duty. There is no question of obligation. Till you are +on your feet again, a strong man, I will stand by you; when that time +comes, we part for ever." + +John Saltram sank back upon his pillow with a heavy sigh, but uttered no +protest against this sentence. And this was all that came of Gilbert's +vengeful passion against the man who had wronged him; this was the end of +a long-cherished anger. "A lame and impotent conclusion," perhaps, but +surely the only end possible under the circumstances. He could not wage +war against a feeble creature, whose hold on life was still an +uncertainty; he could not forget his promise to Marian, that no harm +should come to her husband through any act of his. So he sat quietly by +the bedside of his prostrate foe, watched him silently as he fell into a +brief restless slumber, and administered his medicine when he woke with a +hand that was as gentle as a woman's. + +Between four and five o'clock the nurse came in from the next room to +take her place, refreshed by a sleep of several hours; and then Gilbert +departed in the chill gloom of the winter's morning, still as dark as +night,--departed with his mind lightened of a great load; for it had been +very terrible to him to think that the man who had once been his friend +might go down to the grave without an interval of reason. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +A FULL CONFESSION. + + +Gilbert did not go to the Temple again till he had finished his day's +work at St. Helen's, and had eaten his modest dinner at a tavern in +Fleet-street. He found that Mr. Mew had already paid his second visit to +the sick-room, and had pronounced himself much relieved and delighted by +the favourable change. + +"I have no fear now," he had said to the nurse. "It is now only a +question of getting back the physical strength, which has certainly +fallen to a very low ebb. Perfect repose and an entire freedom from care +are what we have to look to." + +This the nurse told Gilbert. "He has been very restless all day," she +added, "though I've done what I could to keep him quiet. But he worries +himself, now that his senses have come back, poor gentleman; and it isn't +easy to soothe him any way. He keeps on wondering when he'll be well +enough to move, and so on, over and over again. Once, when I left the +room for a minute and went back again, I found him attempting to get out +of bed--only to try his strength, he said. But he's no more strength than +a new-born baby, poor soul, and it will be weeks before he's able to +stir. If he worries and frets, he'll put himself back for a certainty; +but I daresay you'll have more influence over him than I, sir, and that +you may be able to keep him quiet." + +"I doubt that," answered Gilbert; "but I'll do my best. Has he been +delirious to-day?" + +"No, sir, not once; and of course that's a great thing gained." + +A feeble voice from the inner room called Gilbert by name presently, and +he went in at its bidding. + +"Is that you, Gilbert? Come in, for pity's sake. I was sure of the voice. +So you have come on your errand of charity once more. I am very glad to +see you, though you are not my friend. Sit down, ministering Christian, +sit by my side; I have some questions to ask you." + +"You must not talk much, John. The doctor insists upon perfect +tranquillity." + +"He might just as well insist upon my making myself Emperor of all the +Russias; one demand would be about as reasonable as the other. How long +have I been lying here like a log--a troublesome log, by the way; for I +find from some hints the nurse dropped to-day as to the blessing of my +recovery, that I have been somewhat given to violence;--how long have I +been ill, Gilbert?" + +"A very long time." + +"Give me a categorical answer. How many weeks and days?" + +"You were taken ill about the middle of December, and we are now in the +first week of February." + +"Nearly two months; and in all that time I have been idle--_ergo_, no +remittances from publishers. How have I lived, Gilbert? How have the +current expenses of my illness been paid? And the children of +Israel--have they not been clamorous? There was a bill due in January, I +know. I was working for that when I got pulled up. How is it that my vile +carcass is not in their hands?" + +"You need give yourself no trouble; the bill has been taken up." + +"By you, of course? Yes; you do not deny it. And you have been spending +your money day by day to keep me alive. But then you would have done as +much for a stranger. Great heaven, what a mean hound I seem to myself, as +I lie here and think what you have done for me, and how I have acted +towards you!" He turned himself in his bed with a great effort, and lay +with his face to the wall. "Let me hide my face from you," he said; "I am +a shameful creature." + +"Believe me, once more, there is not the faintest shadow of an +obligation," Gilbert responded eagerly; "I can very well afford anything +I have done; shall never feel myself the poorer for it by a sixpence. I +cannot bear that these things should be spoken of between us. You know +how often I have begged you to let me help you in the past, and how +wounded I have been by your refusal." + +"Yes, when we were friends, before I had ever wronged you. If I had taken +your help then, I should hardly have felt the obligation. But, stay, I am +not such a pauper as I seem. My wife will have money; at least you told +me that the old man was rich." + +"Yes, your wife will have money, plenty of money. You have no need to +trouble yourself about financial matters. You have only to consider what +the doctor has said. Your recovery depends almost entirely upon your +tranquillity of mind. If you want to get well speedily, you must remember +this." + +"I do want to get well. I am in a fever to get well; I want to see my +wife. But my recovery will be evidently a tedious affair. I cannot wait +to see her till I am strong enough to travel. Why should she not come to +me here? She can--she must come. Write to her, Gilbert; tell her how I +languish for her presence; tell her how ill I have been." + +"Yes; I will write by and by." + +"By and by! Your tone tells me that you do not mean what you say. There +is something you are keeping from me. O, my God, what was that happened +before I was ill? My wife was missing. I was hunting for her without rest +for nearly a week; and then they told me she was drowned, that there was +no hope of finding her. Was that real, Gilbert? or only a part of my +delirium? Speak to me, for pity's sake. Was it real?" + +"Yes, John; your perplexity and trouble were real, but unnecessary; your +wife is safe." + +"Safe? Where?" + +"She is with her father." + +"She did not even know that her father was living." + +"No, not till very lately. He has come home from America, it seems, and +Marian is now under his protection." + +"What! she could desert me without a word of warning--without the +faintest hint of her intention--to go to a father of whom she knew +nothing, or nothing that was not eminently to his discredit!" + +"There may have been some strong influence brought to bear to induce her +to take such a step." + +"What influence?" + +"Do not worry yourself about that now; make all haste to get well, and +then it will be easy for you to win her back." + +"Yes; only place me face to face with her, and I do not think there would +be much question as to that. But that she should forsake me of her own +free will! It is so unlike my Marian--my patient, long-suffering Marian; +I can scarcely believe such a thing possible. But that question can soon +be put at rest. Write to her, Gilbert; tell her that I have been at +death's door; that my chance of recovery hangs upon her will. Father or +no father, _that_ will bring her to my side." + +"I will do so, directly I know her address." + +"You do not know where she is?" + +"Not yet. I am expecting to obtain that information every day. I have +taken measures to ascertain where she is." + +"And how do you know that she is with her father?" + +"I have the lawyer's authority for that; a lawyer whom the old man, Jacob +Nowell, trusted, whom he left sole executor to his will." + +It was necessary above all things that John Saltram's mind should be set +at rest; and in order to secure this result Gilbert was fain to affect a +supreme faith in Mr. Medler. + +"You believe this man, Gilbert?" the invalid asked anxiously. + +"Of course. He has no reason for deceiving me." + +"But why withhold the father's address?" + +"It is easy enough to conjecture his reasons for that; a dread of your +influence robbing him of his daughter. Her fortune has made her a prize +worth disputing, you see. It is natural enough that the father should +wish to hide her from you." + +"For the sake of the money?--yes, I suppose that is the beginning and end +of his scheme. My poor girl! No doubt he has told her all manner of lies +about me, and so contrived to estrange that faithful heart. Will you +insert an advertisement in the _Times_, Gilbert, under initials, telling +her of my illness, and entreating her to come to me?" + +"I will do so if you like; but I daresay Nowell will be cautious enough +to keep the advertisement-sheet away from her, or to watch it pretty +closely, and prevent her seeing anything we may insert. I am taking means +to find them, John. I must entreat you to rest satisfied with that." + +"Rest satisfied,--when I am uncertain whether I shall ever see my wife +again! That is a hard thing to do." + +"If you harass yourself, you will not live to see her again. Trust in me, +John; Marian's safety is as dear to me as it can be to you. I am her +sworn friend and brother, her self-appointed guardian and defender. I +have skilled agents at work; we shall find her, rely upon it." + +It was a strange position into which Gilbert found himself drifting; the +consoler of this man who had so basely robbed him. They could never be +friends again, these two; he had told himself that, not once, but many +times during the weary hours of his watching beside John Saltram's +sick-bed. They could never more be friends; and yet he found himself in a +manner compelled to perform the offices of friendship. Nor was it easy to +preserve anything like the neutral standing which he had designed for +himself. The life of this sometime friend of his hung by so frail a link, +he had such utter need of kindness; so what could Gilbert do but console +him for the loss of his wife, and endeavour to inspire him with a hopeful +spirit about her? What could he do less than friendship would have done, +although his affection for this old friend of his youth had perished for +evermore? The task of consolation was not an easy one. Once restored to +his right mind, with a vivid sense of all that had happened to him before +his illness, John Saltram was not to be beguiled into a false security. +The idea that his wife was in dangerous hands pursued him perpetually, +and the consciousness of his own impotence to rescue her goaded him to a +kind of mental fever. + +"To be chained here, Gilbert, lying on this odious bed like a dog, when +she needs my help! How am I to bear it?" + +"Like a man," the other answered quietly. "Were you as well as I am this +moment, there's nothing you could do that I am not doing. Do you think I +should sit idly here, if the best measures had not been taken to find +your wife?" + +"Forgive me. Yes; I have no doubt you have done what is best. But if I +were astir, I should have the sense of doing something. I could urge on +those people you employ, work with them even." + +"You would be more likely to hinder than to assist them. They know their +work, and it is a slow drudging business at best, which requires more +patience than you possess. No, John, there is nothing to be done but to +wait, and put our trust in Providence and in time." + +This was a sermon which Gilbert Fenton had occasion to preach very often +in the slow weary days that followed John Saltram's recovery of his right +senses. The sick man, tossing to and fro upon the bed he loathed with +such an utter loathing, could not refrain from piteous bewailings of his +helplessness. He was not a good subject for sickness, had never served +his apprenticeship to a sick-bed until now, and the ordeal seemed to him +a very long one. In all that period of his delirious wanderings there had +been an exaggerated sense of time in his mind. It seemed to him that he +had been lying there for years, lost in a labyrinth of demented fancies. +Looking back at that time, now that his reason had been restored to him, +he was able to recall his delusions one by one, and it was very difficult +for him to understand, even now, that they were all utterly groundless, +the mere vagabondage of a wandering brain; that the people he had fancied +close at hand, lurking in the next room--he had rarely seen them close +about his bed, but had been possessed with a vivid sense of their +neighbourhood--had been never near him; that the old friends and +associates of his boyhood, who had been amongst these fancied visitors, +were for the greater number dead and passed away long before this time; +that he had been, in every dream and every fancy of that weary interval, +the abject slave of his own hallucinations. Little by little his strength +came back to him by very slow degrees--so slowly, indeed, that the +process of recovery might have sorely tried the patience of any man less +patient than Gilbert. There came a day at last when the convalescent was +able to leave his bed for an hour or so, just strong enough to crawl into +the sitting-room with the help of Gilbert's arm, and to sit in an +easy-chair, propped up by pillows, very feeble of aspect, and with a wan +haggard countenance that pleaded mutely for pity. It was impossible to +harbour revengeful feelings against a wretch so stricken. + +Mr. Mew was much elated by this gradual improvement in his patient, and +confessed to Gilbert, in private, that he had never hoped for so happy a +result. "Nothing but an iron constitution, and your admirable care, could +have carried our friend through such an attack, sir," he said decisively. +"And now that we are getting round a little, we must have change of +air--change of air and of scene; that is imperatively necessary. Mr. +Saltram talks of a loathing for these rooms; very natural under the +circumstances. We must take him away directly he can bear the removal." + +"I rather doubt his willingness to stir," Gilbert answered, thoughtfully. +"He has anxieties that are likely to chain him to London." + +"If there is any objection of that kind it must be conquered," Mr. Mew +said. "A change will do your friend more good than all the physic I can +give him." + +"Where would you advise me to take him?" + +"Not very far. He couldn't stand the fatigue of a long journey. I should +take him to some quiet little place near town--the more countrified the +better. It isn't a very pleasant season for the country; but in spite of +that, the change will do him good." + +Gilbert promised to effect this arrangement, as soon as the patient was +well enough to be moved. He would run down to Hampton or Kingston, he +told Mr. Mew, in a day or two, and look for suitable lodgings. + +"Hampton or Kingston by all means," replied the surgeon cheerily. "Both +very pleasant places in their way, and as mild as any neighbourhood +within easy reach of town. Don't go too near the water, and be sure your +rooms are dry and airy--that's the main point. We might move him early +next week, I fancy; if we get him up for an hour or two every day in the +interval." + +Gilbert had kept Mrs. Branston very well informed as to John Saltram's +progress, and that impetuous little woman had sent a ponderous retainer +of the footman species to the Temple daily, laden now with hothouse +grapes, and anon with dainty jellies, clear turtle-soups, or delicate +preparations of chicken, blancmanges and iced drinks; the conveyance +whereof was a sore grievance to the ponderous domestic, in spite of all +the aid to be derived from a liberal employment of cabs. Adela Branston +had sent these things in defiance of her outraged kinswoman, Mrs. +Pallinson, who was not slow to descant upon the impropriety of such a +proceeding. + +"I wonder you can talk in such a way, when you know how friendless this +poor Mr. Saltram is, and how little trouble it costs me to do as much as +this for him. But I daresay the good Samaritan had some one at home who +objected to the waste of that twopence he paid for the poor traveller." + +Mrs. Pallinson gave a little shriek of horror on hearing this allusion, +and protested against so profane a use of the gospel. + +"But the gospel was meant to be our guide in common things, wasn't it, +Mrs. Pallinson? However, there's not the least use in your being angry; +for I mean to do what I can for Mr. Saltram, and there's no one in the +world could turn me from my intention." + +"Indeed!" cried the elder lady, indignantly; "and when he recovers you +mean to marry him, I daresay. You will be weak enough to throw away your +fortune upon a profligate and a spendthrift, a man who is certain to make +any woman miserable." + +And hereupon there arose what Sheridan calls "a very pretty quarrel" +between the two ladies, which went very near to end in Mrs. Pallinson's +total withdrawal from Cavendish-square. Very nearly, but not quite, to +that agreeable consummation did matters proceed; for, on the very verge +of the final words which could have spoken the sentence of separation, +Mrs. Pallinson was suddenly melted, and declared that nothing, no +outrage of her feelings--"and heaven knows how they have been trodden on +this day," the injured matron added in parenthesis--should induce her to +desert her dearest Adela. And so there was a hollow peace patched up, and +Mrs. Branston felt that the blessings of freedom, the delightful relief +of an escape from Pallinsonian influences, were not yet to be hers. +Directly she heard from Gilbert that change of air had been ordered for +the patient, she was eager to offer her villa near Maidenhead for his +accommodation. "The house is always kept in apple-pie order," she wrote +to Gilbert; "and I can send down more servants to make everything +comfortable for the invalid." + +"I know he is fond of the place," she added in conclusion, after setting +out all the merits of the villa with feminine minuteness; "at least I +know he used to like it, and I think it would please him to get well +there. I can only say that it would make _me_ very happy; so do arrange +it, dear Mr. Fenton, if possible, and oblige yours ever faithfully, ADELA +BRANSTON." + +"Poor little woman," murmured Gilbert, as he finished the letter. "No; we +will not impose upon her kindness; we will go somewhere else. Better for +her that she should see and hear but little of John Saltram for all time +to come; and then the foolish fancy will wear itself out perhaps, and she +may live to be a happy wife yet; unless she, too, is afflicted with the +fatal capability of constancy. Is that such a common quality, I wonder? +are there many so luckless as to love once and once only, and who, +setting all their hopes upon one cast, lose all if that be fatal?" + +Gilbert told John Saltram of Mrs. Branston's offer, which he was as +prompt to decline as Gilbert himself had been. "It is like her to wish +it," he said; "but no, I should feel myself a double traitor and impostor +under her roof. I have done her wrong enough already. If I could have +loved her, Gilbert, all might have been well for you and me. God knows I +tried to love her, poor little woman; and she is just the kind of woman +who might twine herself about any man's heart--graceful, pretty, +gracious, tender, bright and intelligent enough for any man; and not too +clever. But _my_ heart she never touched. From the hour I saw that +_other_, I was lost. I will tell you all about that some day. No; we will +not go to the villa. Write and give Mrs. Branston my best thanks for the +generous offer, and invent some excuse for declining it; that's a good +fellow." + +By-and-by, when the letter was written, John Saltram said,--"I do not +want to go out of town at all, Gilbert. It's no use for the doctor to +talk; I can't leave London till we have news of Marian." + +Gilbert had been prepared for this, and set himself to argue the point +with admirable patience. Mr. Proul's work would go on just as well, he +urged, whether they were in London or at Hampton. A telegram would bring +them any tidings as quickly in the one place as the other. "I am not +asking you to go far, remember," he added. "You will be within an hour's +journey of London, and the doctors declare this change is indispensable +to your recovery. You have told us what a horror you have of these +rooms." + +"Yes; I doubt if any one but a sick man can understand his loathing of +the scene of his illness. That room in there is filled with the shadows +that haunted me in all those miserable nights--when the fever was at its +worst, and I lived amidst a crowd of phantoms. Yes, I do most profoundly +hate that room. As for this matter of change of air, Gilbert, dispose of +me as you please; my worthless existence belongs to you." + +Gilbert was quick to take advantage of this concession. He went down to +Hampton next day, and explored the neighbourhood on both sides of the +Thames. His choice fell at last on a pretty little house within a stone's +throw of the Palace gates, the back windows whereof looked out upon the +now leafless solitude of Bushy Park, and where there was a +comfortable-looking rosy-faced landlady, whose countenance was very +pleasant to contemplate after the somewhat lachrymose visage of Mrs. +Pratt. Here he found he could have all the accommodation he required, and +hither he promised to bring the invalid early in the following week. + +There were as yet no tidings worth speaking of from Mr. Proul. That +distinguished member of the detective profession waited upon Gilbert +Fenton with his budget twice a week, but the budget was a barren one. Mr. +Proul's agent pronounced Mr. Medler's clerk the toughest individual it +had ever been his lot to deal with. No amount of treating at the +public-house round the corner--and the agent had ascended from the +primitive simplicity of a pint of porter to the highest flights in the +art of compound liquors--could exert a softening influence upon that +rigid nature. Either the clerk knew nothing about Percival Nowell, or had +been so well schooled as to disclose nothing of what he knew. Money had +been employed by the agent, as well as drink, as a means of temptation; +but even every insidious hint of possible gains had failed to move the +ill-paid underling to any revelation. + +"It's my belief the man knows nothing, or else I should have had it out +of him by hook or by crook," Mr. Proul's agent told him, and Mr. Proul +repeated to his client. + +This first agent having thus come to grief, and having perhaps made +himself a suspected person in the eyes of the Medler office by his +manoeuvres, a second spy had been placed to keep close watch upon the +house, and to follow any person who at all corresponded with the +detective idea of Mr. Nowell. It could be no more than an idea, +unfortunately, since Gilbert had been able to give the accomplished Proul +no description of the man he wanted to trace. Above all, the spy was to +take special note of any lady who might be seen to enter or leave the +office, and to this end he was furnished with a close description of +Marian. + +Gilbert called upon Mrs. Branston before carrying John Saltram out of +town; he fancied that her offer of the Maidenhead villa would be better +acknowledged personally than by a letter. He found the pretty little +widow sorely disappointed by Mr. Saltram's refusal to occupy her house, +and it was a little difficult to explain to her why they both preferred +other quarters for the convalescent. + +"Why will he not accept the smallest favour from me?" Adela Branston +asked plaintively. "He ought to know that there is no _arriere pensee_ in +any offer which I make him--that I have no wish except for his welfare. +Why does he not trust me a little more?" + +"He will do so in future, I think, Mrs. Branston," Gilbert answered +gravely. "I fancy he has learned the folly and danger of all underhand +policy, and that he will put more faith in his friends for the rest of +his life." + +"And he is really much better, quite out of danger? Do the doctors say +that?" + +"He is as much out of danger as a man can well be whose strength has all +been wasted in a perilous illness. He has that to regain yet, and the +recovery will be slow work. Of course in his condition a relapse would be +fatal; but there is no occasion to apprehend a relapse." + +"Thank heaven for that! And you will take care of him, Mr. Fenton, will +you not?" + +"I will do my very best. He saved my life once; so you see that I owe him +a life." + +The invalid was conveyed to Hampton on a bright February day, when there +was an agreeable glimpse of spring sunshine. He went down by road in a +hired brougham, and the journey seemed a long one; but it was an +unspeakable relief to John Saltram to see the suburban roads and green +fields after the long imprisonment of the Temple,--a relief that moved +him almost to tears in his extreme weakness. + +"Could you believe that a man would be so childish, Gilbert?" he said +apologetically. "It might have been a good thing for me to have died in +that dismal room, for heaven only knows what heavy sorrow lies before me +in the future. Yet the sight of these common things touches me more +keenly than all the glory of the Jungfrau touched me ten years ago. What +a gay bright-looking world it is! And yet how many people are happy in +it? how many take the right road? I suppose there is a right road by +which we all might travel, if we only knew how to choose it." + +He felt the physical weariness of the journey acutely, but uttered no +complaint throughout the way; though Gilbert could see the pale face +growing paler, the sunken cheeks more pinched of aspect, as they went on. +To the last he pronounced himself delighted by that quiet progress +through the familiar landscape; and then having reached his destination, +had barely strength to totter to a comfortable chintz-covered sofa in the +bright-looking parlour, where he fainted away. The professional nurse had +been dismissed before they left London, and Gilbert was now the invalid's +only attendant. The woman had performed her office tolerably well, after +the manner of her kind; but the presence of a sick nurse is not a +cheering influence, and John Saltram was infinitely relieved by her +disappearance. + +"How good you are to me, Gilbert!" he said, that first evening of his +sojourn at Hampton, after he had recovered from his faint, and was lying +on the sofa sipping a cup of tea. "How good! and yet you are my friend no +longer; all friendship is at an end between us. Well, God knows I am as +helpless as that man who fell among thieves; I cannot choose but accept +your bounty." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +AN ILL-OMENED WEDDING. + + +After that promise wrung from her by such a cruel agony, that fatal bond +made between her and Stephen Whitelaw, Ellen Carley's life seemed to +travel past her as if by some enchantment. Time lost its familiar +sluggishness; the long industrious days, that had been so slow of old, +flew by the bailiff's daughter like the shadows from a magic-lantern. At +the first, after that desperate miserable day upon which the hateful +words were uttered that were to bind her for life to a detested master, +the girl had told herself that something must happen to prevent the +carrying out of this abhorrent bargain. Something would happen. She had a +vague faith that Providence would interfere somehow to save her. Day +after day she looked into her father's face, thinking that from him, +perhaps, might come some sign of wavering, some hint of possible release. +Vain hope. The bailiff having exacted the sacrifice, pretended to think +his daughter's welfare secured by that very act. He did not hesitate to +congratulate her on her good fortune, and to protest, with an accustomed +oath, that there was not a sensible woman in England who would not envy +her so excellent a match. Once poor Ellen, always impetuous and +plain-spoken, lost all patience with him, and asked how he dared to say +such things. + +"You know that I hate this man, father!" she cried passionately; "and +that I hate myself for what I am going to do. You know that I have +promised to be his wife for your sake, for your sake only; and that if I +could have saved you from disgrace by giving you my life, I should have +done it gladly to escape this much greater sacrifice. Never speak to me +about Stephen Whitelaw again, father, unless you want to drive me mad. +Let me forget what sin I am going to commit, if I can; let me go on +blindfold." + +It was to be observed that from the hour of her betrothal Ellen Carley +as far as possible avoided her father's companionship. She worked more +busily than ever about the big old house, was never tired of polishing +the little-used furniture and dusting the tenantless bed-chambers; she +seemed, indeed, to be infected with Mrs. Tadman's passion for superhuman +cleanliness. To her dairy duties also she devoted much more time than of +old; anything to escape the parlour, where her father sat idle for a +considerable portion of the day, smoking his pipe, and drinking rather +more than was good for him. Nor did Mr. Carley, for his part, appear to +dislike this tacit severance between his daughter and himself. As the +foolish young woman chose to accept good fortune in a perverse spirit, it +was well that they two should see as little of each other as possible. +Every evening found Mr. Whitelaw a punctual visitor in the snug panelled +parlour, and at such times the bailiff insisted upon his daughter's +presence; she was obliged to sit there night after night, stitching +monotonously at some unknown calico garment--which might well from the +state of mind of the worker have been her winding-sheet; or darning one +of an inexhaustible basket of woollen stockings belonging to her father. +It was her irksome duty to be there, ready to receive any awkward +compliment of her silent lover's, ready to acquiesce meekly in his talk +of their approaching wedding. But at all other times Mr. Carley was more +than content with her absence. + +At first the bailiff had made a feeble attempt to reconcile his daughter +to her position by the common bribe of fine clothes. He had extorted a +sum of money from Stephen Whitelaw for this purpose, and had given that +sum, or a considerable part of it, to his daughter, bidding her expend it +upon her wedding finery. The girl took the money, and spent a few pounds +upon the furbishing-up of her wardrobe, which was by no means an +extensive one; but the remaining ten-pound note she laid by in a secret +place, determined on no account to break in upon it. + +"The time may come when all my life will depend upon the possession of a +few pounds," she said to herself; "when I may have some chance of setting +myself free from that man." + +She had begun to contemplate such a possibility already, before her +wedding-day. It was for her father's sake she was going to sell her +liberty, to take upon herself a bondage most odious to her. The time +might come when her father would be beyond the reach of shame and +disgrace, when she might find some manner of escape from her slavery. + +In the meantime the days hurried on, and Providence offered her no +present means of rescue. The day of doom came nearer and nearer; for the +bailiff took part with his future son-in-law, and would hear of no +reasons which Ellen could offer for delay. He was eager to squeeze the +farmer's well-filled purse a little tighter, and he fancied he might do +this when his daughter was Stephen Whitelaw's wife. So suitor and father +were alike pitiless, and the wedding was fixed for the 10th of March. +There were no preparations to be made at Wyncomb Farmhouse. Mr. Whitelaw +did not mean to waste so much as a five-pound note upon the embellishment +of those barely-furnished rooms in honour of his bright young bride; +although Mrs. Tadman urged upon him the necessity of new muslin curtains +here, and new dimity there, a coat or so of paint and new whitewash in +such and such rooms, and other small revivals of the same character; not +sorry to be able to remind him in this indirect manner that marriage was +an expensive thing. + +"A young woman like that will expect to see things bright and cheerful +about her," said Mrs. Tadman, in her most plausible tone, and rubbing her +thin hands with an air of suppressed enjoyment. "If you were going to +marry a person of your own age, it would be different, of course; but +young women have such extravagant notions. I could see Miss Carley did +not think much of the furniture when I took her over the house on +new-year's-day. She said the rooms looked gloomy, and that some of them +gave her the horrors, and so on. If you don't have the place done up a +bit at first, you'll have to get it done at last, depend upon it; a young +wife like that will make the money spin, you may be sure." + +"Will she?" said Mr. Whitelaw, with a satisfied grin. "That's my +look-out. I don't think you've had very much chance of making my money +spin, eh, Mrs. Tadman?" + +The widow cast up her hands and eyes towards the ceiling of the parlour +where they were sitting. + +"Goodness knows I've had precious little chance of doing that, Stephen +Whitelaw," she replied. + +"I should reckon not; and my wife will have about as much." + +There was some cold comfort in this. Mrs. Tadman had once hoped that if +her cousin ever exalted any woman to the proud position of mistress of +Wyncomb, she herself would be that favoured individual; and it was a hard +thing to see a young person, who had nothing but a certain amount of good +looks to recommend her, raised to that post of honour in her stead. It +was some consolation, therefore, to discover that the interloper was to +reign with very limited powers, and that none of the privileges or +indulgences usually granted to youthful brides by elderly bridegrooms +were to be hers. It was something, too, for Mrs. Tadman to be allowed to +remain beneath the familiar shelter of that gloomy old house, and this +boon had been granted to her at Ellen's express request. + +"I suppose she's going to turn lazy as soon as she's married, or she +wouldn't have wanted to keep you," the farmer said in rather a sulky +manner, after he had given Mrs. Tadman his gracious permission to remain +in his service. "But if she is, we must find some way of curing her of +that. I don't want a fine lady about _my_ place. There's the dairy, now; +we might do more in that way, I should think, and get more profit out of +butter-making than we do by sending part of the milk up to London. Butter +fetches a good price now-a-days from year's end to year's end, and Ellen +is a rare hand at a dairy; I know that for certain." + +Thus did Mr. Whitelaw devote his pretty young wife to an endless prospect +of butter-making. He had no intention that the alliance should be an +unprofitable one, and he was already scheming how he might obtain some +indirect kind of interest for that awful sum of two hundred pounds +advanced to William Carley. + +Sir David Forster had not come to make that threatened investigation of +things at the Grange. Careless always in the management of his affairs, +the receipt of a handsome sum of money from the bailiff had satisfied +him, and he had suffered his suspicions to be lulled to rest for the time +being, not caring to undertake the trouble of a journey to Hampshire, and +an examination of dry business details. + +It was very lucky for Mr. Carley that his employer was so easy and +indolent a master; for there were many small matters at the Grange which +would have hardly borne inspection, and it would have been difficult for +Sir David to come there without making some discovery to his bailiff's +disadvantage. The evil day had been warded off, however, by means of +Stephen Whitelaw's money, and William Carley meant to act more +cautiously, more honestly even, in future. He would keep clear of +race-courses and gambling booths, he told himself, and of the kind of men +who had beguiled him into dishonourable dealing. + +"I have had an uncommon narrow squeak of it," he muttered to himself +occasionally, as he smoked a meditative pipe, "and have been as near +seeing the inside of Portland prison as ever a man was. But it'll be a +warning to me in future. And yet who could have thought that things would +have gone against me as they did? There was Sir Philip Christopher's bay +colt Pigskin, for instance; that brute was bound to win." + +February came to an end; and when March once began, there seemed no pause +or breathing-time for Ellen Carley till the 10th. And yet she had little +business to occupy her during those bleak days of early spring. It was +the horror of that rapid flight of time, which seemed independent of her +own life in its hideous swiftness. Idle or busy, it was all the same. The +days would not linger for her; the dreaded 10th was close at hand. + +Frank Randall was still in London, in that solicitor's office--a firm of +some standing in the City--to which he had gone on leaving his father. He +had written two or three times to Ellen since he left Hampshire, and she +had answered his letters secretly; but pleasant though it was to her to +hear from him, she begged him not to write, as her father's anger would +be extreme if a letter should by any evil chance fall into his hands. So +within the last few months there had been no tidings of Ellen's absent +lover, and the girl was glad that it was so. What could she have said to +him if she had been compelled to tell him of her engagement to Stephen +Whitelaw? What excuse could she have made for marrying a man about whom +she had been wont to express herself to Frank Randall in most unequivocal +terms? Excuse there was none, since she could not betray her father. It +was better, therefore, that young Randall should hear of her marriage in +the common course of things, and that he should think of her just as +badly as he pleased. This was only one more poisoned drop in a cup that +was all bitterness. + +"He will believe that I was a hypocrite at heart always," the unhappy +girl said to herself, "and that I value Stephen Whitelaw's money more +than his true heart--that I can marry a man I despise and dislike for the +sake of being rich. What can he think worse of me than that? and how can +he help thinking that? He knows that I have a good spirit of my own, and +that my father could not make me do anything against my will. He will +never believe that this marriage has been all my father's doing." + +The wedding morning came at last, bright and spring-like, with a sun that +shone as gaily as if it had been lighting the happiest union that was +ever recorded in the hymeneal register. There were the first rare +primroses gleaming star-like amidst the early greenery of high grassy +banks in solitary lanes about Crosber, and here and there the tender blue +of a violet. It would have seemed a very fair morning upon which to +begin the first page in the mystic volume of a new life, if Ellen Carley +had been going to marry a man she loved; but no hapless condemned wretch +who ever woke to see the sun shining upon the day of his execution could +have been more profoundly wretched than the bailiff's daughter, as she +dressed herself mechanically in her one smart silk gown, and stood in a +kind of waking trance before the quaint old-fashioned looking-glass which +reflected her pale hopeless face. She had no girlish companion to assist +in that dismal toilet. Long ago there had been promises exchanged between +Ellen Carley and her chosen friend, the daughter of a miller who lived a +little way on the other side of Crosber, to the effect that whichever was +first to marry should call upon the other to perform the office of +bridesmaid; and Sarah Peters, the miller's daughter, was still single and +eligible for the function. But there was to be no bridesmaid at this +blighted wedding. Ellen had pleaded urgently that things might be +arranged as quietly as possible; and the master of Wyncomb, who hated +spending money, and who apprehended that the expenses of any festivity +would in all probability fall upon his own shoulders, was very well +pleased to assent to this request of his betrothed. + +"Quite right, Nell," he said; "we don't want any foolish fuss, or a pack +of people making themselves drunk at our expense. You and your father can +come quietly to Crosber church, and Mrs. Tadman and me will meet you +there, and the thing's done. The marriage wouldn't be any the tighter if +we had a hundred people looking on, and the Bishop of Winchester to read +the service." + +It was arranged in this manner, therefore; and on that pleasant spring +morning William Carley and his daughter walked to the quiet village where +Gilbert Fenton had discovered the secret of Marian's retreat. The face +under the bride's little straw bonnet was deadly pale, and the features +had a rigid look that was new to them. The bailiff glanced at his +daughter in a furtive way every now and then, with an uneasy sense of +this strange look in her face. Even in his brute nature there were some +faint twinges of compunction, now that the deed he had been so eager to +compass was well-nigh done--some vague consciousness that he had been a +hard and cruel father. + +"And yet it's all for her own good," he told himself, "quite as much as +for mine. Better to marry a rich man than a pauper any day; and to take a +dislike to a man's age or a man's looks is nothing but a girl's nonsense. +The best husband is the one that can keep his wife best; and if I hadn't +forced on this business, she'd have taken up with lawyer Randall's son, +who's no better than a beggar, and a pretty life she'd have had of it +with him." + +By such reasoning as this William Carley contrived to set his conscience +at rest during that silent walk along the rustic lane between the Grange +and Crosber church. It was not a conscience very difficult to appease. +And as for his daughter's pallid looks, those of course were only natural +to the occasion. + +Mr. Whitelaw and Mrs. Tadman were at the church when the bailiff and his +daughter arrived. The farmer had made a scarecrow of himself in a new +suit of clothes, which he had ordered in honour of this important event, +after a great deal of vacillation, and more than one countermand to the +Malsham tailor who made the garments. At the last he was not quite clear +in his mind as to whether he wanted the clothes, and the outlay was a +serious one. Mrs. Tadman had need to hold his every-day coat up to the +light to convince him that the collar was threadbare, and that the +sleeves shone as if purposely polished by some ingenious process. + +"Marriage is an expensive thing," she told him again, with a sigh; "and +young girls expect to see a man dressed ever so smart on his +wedding-day." + +"I don't care for her expectations," Mr. Whitelaw muttered, in reply to +this remark; "and if I don't want the clothes, I won't have 'em. Do you +think I could get over next Christmas with them as I've got?" + +Mrs. Tadman said "No" in a most decisive manner. Perhaps she derived a +malicious pleasure from the infliction of that tailor's bill upon her +cousin Whitelaw. So the new suit had been finally ordered; and Stephen +stood arrayed therein before the altar-rails in the gray old church at +Crosber, a far more grotesque and outrageous figure to contemplate than +any knight templar, or bearded cavalier of the days of the first English +James, whose effigies were to be seen in the chancel. Mrs. Tadman stood a +little way behind him, in a merino gown, and a new bonnet, extorted +somehow from the reluctant Stephen. She was full of smiles and cordial +greetings for the bride, who did not even see her. Neither did Ellen +Carley see the awkward figure of her bridegroom. A mist was before her +eyes, as if there had been an atmosphere of summer blight or fog in the +village church. She knelt, or rose, as her prayer-book taught her, and +went through the solemn service as placidly as if she had been a wondrous +piece of mechanism constructed to perform such movements; and then, like +a creature in a dream, she found herself walking out of the church +presently, with her hand on Stephen Whitelaw's arm. She had a faint +consciousness of some ceremony in the vestry, where it had taken Stephen +a long time to sign his name in the register, and where the clergyman had +congratulated him upon his good fortune in having won for himself such a +pretty young wife; but it was all more or less like a dreadful +oppressive dream. Mr. Whitelaw's chaise-cart was waiting for them; and +they all four got in, and drove at once to Wyncomb; where there was +another ponderous dinner, very much like the banquet of new-year's-day, +and where the bailiff drank freely, after his wont, and grew somewhat +uproarious towards tea-time, though Mr. Whitelaw's selections of port and +sherry were not of a kind to tempt a connoisseur. + +There was to be no honeymoon trip. Stephen Whitelaw did not understand +the philosophy of running away from a comfortable home to spend money in +furnished lodgings; and he had said as much, when the officious Tadman +suggested a run to Weymouth, or Bournemouth, or a fortnight in the Isle +of Wight. To Ellen it was all the same where the rest of her life should +be spent. It could not be otherwise than wretched henceforward, and the +scene of her misery mattered nothing. So she uttered no complaint because +her husband brought her straight home to Wyncomb Farmhouse, and her +wedded life began in that dreary dwelling-place. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + +A DOMESTIC MYSTERY. + + +It was near the end of March, but still bleak cold weather. Ellen Carley +had been married something less than a fortnight, and had come to look +upon the dismal old farm-house by the river with a more accustomed eye +than when Mrs. Tadman had taken her from room to room on a journey of +inspection. Not that the place seemed any less dreary and ugly to her +to-day than it had seemed at the very first. Familiarity could not make +it pleasant. She hated the house and everything about and around it, as +she hated her husband, with a rooted aversion, not to be subdued by any +endeavour which she might make now and then--and she did honestly make +such endeavour--to arrive at a more Christian-like frame of mind. + +Notwithstanding this deeply-seated instinctive dislike to all her +surroundings, she endured her fate quietly, and did her duty with a +patient spirit which might fairly be accepted as an atonement for those +inward rebellious feelings which she could not conquer. Having submitted +to be the scapegoat of her father's sin, she bore her burden very calmly, +and fulfilled the sacrifice without any outward mark of martyrdom. + +She went about the work of the farm-house with a resolute active air that +puzzled Mrs. Tadman, who had fully expected the young wife would play the +fine lady, and leave all the drudgery of the household to her. But it +really seemed as if Ellen liked hard work. She went from one task to +another with an indefatigable industry, an energy that never gave way. +Only when the day's work in house and dairy was done did her depression +of spirits become visible. Then, indeed, when all was finished, and she +sat down, neatly dressed for the afternoon, in the parlour with Mrs. +Tadman, it was easy to see how utterly hopeless and miserable this young +wife was. The pale fixed face, the listless hands clasped loosely in her +lap, every attitude of the drooping figure, betrayed the joyless spirit, +the broken heart. At these times, when they were alone together, waiting +Stephen Whitelaw's coming home to tea, Mrs. Tadman's heart, not entirely +hardened by long years of self-seeking, yearned towards her kinsman's +wife; and the secret animosity with which she had at first regarded her +changed to a silent pity, a compassion she would fain have expressed in +some form or other, had she dared. + +But she could not venture to do this. There was something in the girl, a +quiet air of pride and self-reliance, in spite of her too evident +sadness, which forbade any overt expression of sympathy; so Mrs. Tadman +could only show her friendly feelings in a very small way, by being +especially active and brisk in assisting all the household labours of the +new mistress of Wyncomb, and by endeavouring to cheer her with such petty +gossip as she was able to pick up. Ellen felt that the woman was kindly +disposed towards her, and she was not ungrateful; but her heart was quite +shut against sympathy, her sorrow was too profound to be lightened ever +so little by human friendship. It was a dull despair, a settled +conviction that for her life could never have again a single charm, that +her days must go on in their slow progress to the grave unlightened by +one ray of sunshine, her burden carried to the end of the dreary journey +unrelieved by one hour of respite. It seemed very hard for one so young, +not quite three-and-twenty yet, to turn her back upon every hope of +happiness, to be obliged to say to herself, "For me the sun can never +shine again, the world I live in can never more seem beautiful, or +beautiful only in bitter contrast to my broken heart." But Ellen told +herself that this fate was hers, and that she must needs face it with a +resolute spirit. + +The household work employed her mind in some measure, and kept her, more +or less, from thinking; and it was for this reason she worked with such +unflinching industry, just as she had worked in the last month or two at +the Grange, trying to shut her eyes to that hateful future which lay so +close before her. Mr. Whitelaw had no reason to retract what he had said +in his pride of heart about Ellen Carley's proficiency in the dairy. She +proved herself all that he had boasted, and the dairy flourished under +the new management. There was more butter, and butter of a superior +quality, sent to market than under the reign of Mrs. Tadman; and the +master of Wyncomb made haste to increase his stock of milch cows, in +order to make more money by this branch of his business. To have won for +himself a pretty young wife, who, instead of squandering his substance, +would help him to grow richer, was indeed a triumph, upon which Mr. +Whitelaw congratulated himself with many a suppressed chuckle as he went +about his daily labours, or jogged slowly home from market in his +chaise-cart. + +As to his wife's feelings towards himself, whether those were cold +indifference or hidden dislike, that was an abstruse and remote question +which Mr. Whitelaw never took the trouble to ask himself. She was his +wife. He had won her, that was the grand point; whatever disinclination +she might have felt for the alliance, whatever love she might have +cherished for another, had been trampled down and subjugated, and he, +Stephen Whitelaw, had obtained the desire of his heart. He had won her, +against that penniless young jackanapes, lawyer Randall's son, who had +treated him with marked contempt on more than one occasion when they +happened to come across each other in Malsham Corn-exchange, which was +held in the great covered quadrangular courtyard of the chief inn at +Malsham, and was a popular lounge for the inhabitants of that town. He +had won her; her own sentiments upon the subject of this marriage were of +very little consequence. He had never expected to be loved by his wife, +his own ideas of that passion called love being of the vaguest; but he +meant to be obeyed by her. She had begun well, had taken her new duties +upon herself in a manner that gladdened his sordid soul; and although +they had been married nearly a fortnight, she had given no hint of a +desire to know the extent of his wealth, or where he kept any little +hoard of ready money that he might have by him in the house. Nor on +market-day had she expressed any wish to go with him to Malsham to spend +money on drapery; and he had an idea, sedulously cultivated by Mrs. +Tadman, that young women were perpetually wanting to spend money at +drapers' shops. Altogether, that first fortnight of his married life had +been most satisfactory, and Mr. Whitelaw was inclined to regard matrimony +as a wise and profitable institution. + +The day's work was done, and Ellen was sitting with Mrs. Tadman in the +every-day parlour, waiting for the return of her lord and master from +Malsham. It was not a market-day, but Stephen Whitelaw had announced at +dinner-time that he had an appointment at Malsham, and had set out +immediately after dinner in the chaise-cart, much to the wonderment of +Mrs. Tadman, who was an inveterate gossip, and never easy until she +arrived at the bottom of any small household mystery. She wondered not a +little also at Ellen's supreme indifference to her husband's proceedings. + +"I can't for the life of me think what's taken him to Malsham to-day," +she said, as she plied her rapid knitting-needles in the manufacture of a +gray-worsted stocking. "I haven't known him go to Malsham, except of a +market-day, not once in a twelvemonth. It must be a rare business to take +him there in the middle of the week; for he can't abide to leave the farm +in working-hours, except when he's right down obliged to it. Nothing goes +on the same when his back's turned, he says; there's always something +wrong. And if it was an appointment with any one belonging to Malsham, +why couldn't it have stood over till Saturday? It must be something out +of the common that won't keep a couple of days." + +Mrs. Tadman went on with her knitting, gazing at Ellen with an expectant +countenance, waiting for her to make some suggestion. But the girl was +quite silent, and there was a blank expression in her eyes, which looked +out across the level stretch of grass between the house and the river, a +look that told Mrs. Tadman very few of her words had been heard by her +companion. It was quite disheartening to talk to such a person; but the +widow went on nevertheless, being so full of her subject that she must +needs talk to some one, even if that some one were little better than a +stock or a stone. + +"There was a letter that came for Stephen before dinner to-day; he got it +when he came in, but it was lying here for an hour first. Perhaps it was +that as took him to Malsham; and yet that's strange, for it was a London +letter--and it don't seem likely as any one could be coming down from +London to meet Steph at Malsham. I can't make top nor tail of it." + +Mrs. Tadman laid down her knitting, and gave the fire a vigorous stir. +She wanted some vent for her vexation; for it was really too provoking to +see Ellen Whitelaw sitting staring out of the window like a lifeless +statue, and not taking the faintest interest in the mystery of her +husband's conduct. She stirred the fire, and then busied herself with the +tea-table, giving a touch here and there where no re-arrangement was +wanted, for the sake of doing something. + +The room looked comfortable enough in the cold light of the spring +afternoon. It was the most occupied room in the house, and the least +gloomy. The glow of a good fire brightened the scanty shabby furniture a +little, and the table, with its white cloth, homely flowered cups and +saucers, bright metal teapot, and substantial fare in the way of ham and +home-made bread, had a pleasant look enough in the eyes of any one coming +in from a journey through the chill March atmosphere. Mr. Whitelaw's +notion of tea was a solid meal, which left him independent of the +chances of supper, and yet open to do something in that way; in case any +light kickshaw, such as liver and bacon, a boiled sheep's head, or a +beef-steak pie, should present itself to his notice. + +Ellen roused herself from her long reverie at last. There was the sound +of wheels upon the cart-track across the wide open field in front of the +house. + +"Here comes Mr. Whitelaw," she said, looking out into the gathering dusk; +"and there's some one with him." + +"Some one with him!" cried Mrs. Tadman. "Why, my goodness, who can that +be?" + +She ran to the window and peered eagerly out. The cart had driven up to +the door by this time, and Mr. Whitelaw and his companion were alighting. +The stranger was rather a handsome man, Mrs. Tadman saw at the first +glance, tall and broad-shouldered, clad in dark-gray trousers, a short +pilot-coat, and a wide-awake hat; but with a certain style even in this +rough apparel which was not the style of agricultural Malsham, an +unmistakable air that belongs to a dweller in great cities. + +"I never set eyes upon him before," exclaimed Mrs. Tadman, aghast with +wonder; for visitors at Wyncomb were of the rarest, and an unknown +visitor above all things marvellous. + +Mr. Whitelaw opened the house-door, which opened straight into a little +lobby between the two parlours. There was a larger door and a spacious +stone entrance-hall at one end of the house; but that door had not been +opened within the memory of man, and the hall was only used as a +storehouse now-a-days. There was some little mumbling talk in the lobby +before the two men came in, and then Mrs. Tadman's curiosity was relieved +by a closer view of the stranger. + +Yes, he was certainly handsome, remarkably handsome even, for a man whose +youth was past; but there was something in his face, a something sinister +and secret, as it were, which did not strike Mrs. Tadman favourably. She +could not by any means have explained the nature of her sensations on +looking at him, but, as she said afterwards, she felt all in a moment +that he was there for no good. And yet he was very civil-spoken too, and +addressed both the ladies in a most conciliating tone, and with a kind of +florid politeness. + +Ellen looked at him, interested for the moment in spite of her apathetic +indifference to all things. The advent of a stranger was something so +rare as to awaken a faint interest in the mind most dead to impressions. +She did not like his manner; there was something false and hollow in his +extreme politeness. And his face--what was it in his face that startled +her with such a sudden sense of strangeness and yet of familiarity? + +Had she ever seen him before? Yes; surely that was the impression which +sent such a sudden shock through her nerves, which startled her from her +indifference into eager wonder and perplexity. Where had she seen him +before? Where and when? Long ago, or only very lately? She could not +tell. Yet it seemed to her that she had looked at eyes like those, not +once, but many times in her life. And yet the man was utterly strange to +her. That she could have seen him before appeared impossible. It must +have been some one like him she had seen, then. Yes, that was it. It was +the shadow of another face in his that had startled her with so strange a +feeling, almost as if she had been looking upon some ghostly thing. +Another face, like and yet unlike. + +But what face? whose face? + +She could not answer that question, and her inability to solve the enigma +tormented her all tea-time, as the stranger sat opposite to her, making a +pretence of eating heartily, in accordance with Mr. Whitelaw's hospitable +invitation, while that gentleman himself ploughed away with a steady +persistence that made awful havoc with the ham, and reduced the loaf in a +manner suggestive of Jack the Giant-killer. + +The visitor presently ventured to remark that tea-drinking was not much +in his way, and that, if it were all the same to Mr. Whitelaw, he should +prefer a glass of brandy-and-water; whereupon the brandy-bottle was +produced from a cupboard by the fire-place, of which Stephen himself kept +the key, judiciously on his guard against a possible taste for ardent +spirits developing itself in Mrs. Tadman. + +After this the stranger sat for some time, drinking cold +brandy-and-water, and staring moodily at the fire, without making the +faintest attempt at conversation, while Mr. Whitelaw finished his tea, +and the table was cleared; and even after this, when the farmer had taken +his place upon the opposite side of the hearth, and seemed to be waiting +for his guest to begin business. + +He was not a lively stranger; he seemed, indeed, to have something on his +mind, to be brooding upon some trouble or difficulty, as Mrs. Tadman +remarked to her kinsman's wife afterwards. Both the women watched him; +Ellen always perplexed by that unknown likeness, which seemed sometimes +to grow stronger, sometimes to fade away altogether, as she looked at +him; Mrs. Tadman in a rabid state of curiosity, so profound was the +mystery of his silent presence. + +What was he there for? What could Stephen want with him? He was not one +of Stephen's sort, by any means; had no appearance of association with +agricultural interests. And yet there he was, a silent inexplicable +presence, a mysterious figure with a moody brow, which seemed to grow +darker as Mrs. Tadman watched him. + +At last, about an hour after the tea-table had been cleared, he rose +suddenly, with an abrupt gesture, and said, + +"Come, Whitelaw, if you mean to show me this house of yours, you may as +well show it to me at once." + +His voice had a harsh unpleasant sound as he said this. He stood with his +back to the women, staring at the fire, while Stephen Whitelaw lighted a +candle in his slow dawdling way. + +"Be quick, man alive," the stranger cried impatiently, turning sharply +round upon the farmer, who was trimming an incorrigible wick with a pair +of blunted snuffers. "Remember, I've got to go back to Malsham; I haven't +all the night to waste." + +"I don't want to set my house afire," Mr. Whitelaw answered sullenly; +"though, perhaps, _you_ might like that. It might suit your book, you +see." + +The stranger gave a sudden shudder, and told the farmer with an angry +oath to "drop that sort of insolence." + +"And now show the way, and look sharp about it," he said in an +authoritative tone. + +They went out of the room in the next moment. Mrs. Tadman gazed after +them, or rather at the door which had closed upon them, with a solemn +awe-stricken stare. + +"I don't like the look of it, Ellen," she said; "I don't at all like the +look of it." + +"What do you mean?" the girl asked indifferently. + +"I don't like the hold that man has got over Stephen, nor the way he +speaks to him--almost as if Steph was a dog. Did you hear him just now? +And what does he want to see the house for, I should like to know? What +can this house matter to him, unless he was going to buy it? That's it, +perhaps, Ellen. Stephen has been speculating, and has gone and ruined +himself, and that strange man is going to buy Wyncomb. He gave me a kind +of turn the minute I looked at him. And, depend upon it, he's come to +turn us all out of house and home." + +Ellen gave a faint shudder. What if her father's wicked scheming were to +come to such an end as this! what if she had been sold into bondage, and +the master to whom she had been given had not even the wealth which had +been held before her as a bait in her misery! For herself she cared +little whether she were rich or poor. It could make but a difference of +detail in the fact of her unhappiness, whether she were mistress of +Wyncomb or a homeless tramp upon the country roads. The workhouse without +Stephen Whitelaw must needs be infinitely preferable to Wyncomb Farm with +him. And for her father, it seemed only a natural and justifiable thing +that his guilt and his greed should be so punished. He had sold his +daughter into life-long slavery for nothing but that one advance of two +hundred pounds. He had saved himself from the penalty of his dishonesty, +however, by that sacrifice; and would, no doubt, hold his daughter's +misery lightly enough, even if poverty were added to the wretchedness of +her position. + +The two women sat down on opposite sides of the hearth; Mrs. Tadman, too +anxious to go on with her accustomed knitting, only able to wring her +hands in a feeble way, and groan every now and then, or from time to time +burst into some fragmentary speech. + +"And Stephen's just the man to have such a thing on his mind and keep it +from everybody till the last moment," she cried piteously. "And so many +speculations as there are now-a-days to tempt a man to his ruin--railways +and mines, and loans to Turks and Red Indians and such-like foreigners; +and Steph might so easy be tempted by the hope of larger profits than he +can make by farming." + +"But it's no use torturing yourself like that with fears that may be +quite groundless," Ellen said at last, rousing herself a little in order +to put a stop to the wailing and lamentations of her companion. "There's +no use in anticipating trouble. There may be nothing in this business +after all. Mr. Whitelaw may have a fancy for showing people his house. He +wanted me to see it, if you remember, that new-year's afternoon." + +"Yes; but that was different. He meant to marry you. Why should he want +to show the place to a stranger? I can't believe but what that strange +man is here for something, and something bad. I saw it in his face when +he first came in." + +It was useless arguing the matter; Mrs. Tadman was evidently not to be +shaken; so Ellen said no more; and they sat on in silence, each occupied +with her own thoughts. + +Ellen's were not about Stephen Whitelaw's financial condition, but they +were very sad ones. She had received a letter from Frank Randall since +her marriage; a most bitter letter, upbraiding her for her falsehood and +desertion, and accusing her of being actuated by mercenary motives in her +marriage with Stephen Whitelaw. + +"How often have I heard you express your detestation of that fellow!" the +young man wrote indignantly. "How often have I heard you declare that no +earthly persuasion should ever induce you to marry him! And yet before my +back has been turned six months, I hear that you are his wife. Without a +word of warning, without a line of explanation to soften the blow--if +anything could soften it--the news comes to me, from a stranger who knew +nothing of my love for you. It is very hard, Ellen; all the harder +because I had so fully trusted in your fidelity." + +"I will own that the prospect I had to offer you was a poor one; +involving long delay before I could give you such a home as I wanted to +give you; but O, Nelly, Nelly, I felt so sure that you would be true to +me! And if you found yourself in any difficulty, worried beyond your +power of resistance by your father--though I did not think you were the +kind of girl to yield weakly to persuasion--a line from you would have +brought me to your side, ready to defend you from any persecution, and +only too proud to claim you for my wife, and carry you away from your +father's unkindness." + +The letter went on for some time in the same upbraiding strain. Ellen +shed many bitter tears over it in the quiet of her own room. It had been +delivered to her secretly by her old friend Sarah Peters, the miller's +daughter, who had been the confidante of her love affairs; for even in +his indignation Mr. Randall had been prudent enough to consider that such +a missive, falling perchance into Stephen Whitelaw's hands, might work +serious mischief. + +Cruel as the letter was, Ellen could not leave it quite unanswered; some +word in her own defence she must needs write; but her reply was of the +briefest. + +"There are some things that can never be explained," she wrote, "and my +marriage is one of those. No one could save me from it, you least of all. +There was no help for me; and I believe, with all my heart, that, in +acting as I did, I only did my duty. I had not the courage to write to +you beforehand to tell you what was going to be. I thought it was almost +better you should hear it from a stranger. The more hardly you think of +me, the easier it will be for you to forget me. There is some comfort in +that. I daresay it will be very easy for you to forget. But if, in days +to come, when you are happily married to some one else, you can teach +yourself to think more kindly of me, and to believe that in what I did I +acted for the best, you will be performing an act of charity towards a +poor unhappy girl, who has very little left to hope for in this world." + +It was a hard thing for Ellen to think that, in the estimation of the man +she loved, she must for ever seem the basest and most mercenary of +womankind; and yet how poor an excuse could she offer in the vague +pleading of her letter! She could not so much as hint at the truth; she +could not blacken her father's character. That Frank Randall should +despise her, only made her trial a little sharper, her daily burden a +little heavier, she told herself. + +With her mind full of these thoughts, she had very little sympathy to +bestow upon Mrs. Tadman, whose fragmentary lamentations only worried her, +like the murmurs of some troublesome not-to-be-pacified child; whereby +that doleful person, finding her soul growing heavier and heavier, for +lack of counsel or consolation, could at last endure this state of +suspense no longer in sheer inactivity, but was fain to bestir herself +somehow, if even in the most useless manner. She got up from her seat +therefore, went over to the door, and, softly opening it, peered out into +the darkness beyond. + +There was nothing, no glimmer of Stephen's candle, no sound of men's +footsteps or of men's voices; the merest blankness, and no more. The two +men had been away from the parlour something more than half an hour by +this time. + +For about five minutes Mrs. Tadman stood at the open door, peering out +and listening, and still without result. Then, with a shrill sudden sound +through the long empty passages, there came a shriek, a prolonged +piercing cry of terror or of pain, which turned Mrs. Tadman's blood to +ice, and brought Ellen to her side, pale and breathless. + +"What was that?" + +"What was that?" + +Both uttered the same question simultaneously, looking at each other +aghast, and then both fled in the direction from which that shrill cry +had come. + +A woman's voice surely; no masculine cry ever sounded with such piercing +treble. + +They hurried off to discover the meaning of this startling sound, but +were neither of them very clear as to whence it had come. From the upper +story no doubt, but in that rambling habitation there was so much scope +for uncertainty. They ran together, up the staircase most used, to the +corridor from which the principal rooms opened. Before they could reach +the top of the stairs, they heard a scuffling hurrying sound of heavy +footsteps on the floor above them, and on the landing met Mr. Whitelaw +and his unknown friend; face to face. + +"What's the matter?" asked the farmer sharply, looking angrily at the two +scared faces. + +"That's just what we want to know," his wife answered. "Who was it that +screamed just now? Who's been hurt?" + +"My friend stumbled against a step in the passage yonder, and knocked his +shin. He cried out a bit louder than he need have done, if that's what +you mean, but not loud enough to cause all this fuss. Get downstairs +again, you two, and keep quiet. I've no patience with such nonsense; +coming flying upstairs as if you'd both gone mad." + +"It was not your friend's voice we heard," Ellen answered resolutely; "it +was a woman's cry. You must have heard it surely, Stephen Whitelaw." + +"I heard nothing but what I tell you," the farmer muttered sulkily. "Get +downstairs, can't you?" + +"Not till I know what's the matter," his wife said, undismayed by his +anger. "Give me your light, and let me go and see." + +"You can go where you like, wench, and see what you can; and an uncommon +deal wiser you'll be for your trouble." + +And yet, although Mr. Whitelaw gave his wife the candlestick with an air +of profound indifference, there was an uneasy look in his countenance +which she could plainly see, and which perplexed her not a little. + +"Come, Mrs. Tadman," she said decisively, "we had better see into this. +It was a woman's voice, and must have been one of the girls, I suppose. +It may be nothing serious, after all,--these country girls scream out for +a very little,--but we'd better get to the bottom of it." + +Mr. Whitelaw burst into a laugh--and he was a man whose laughter was as +unpleasant as it was rare. + +"Ay, my wench, you'd best get to the bottom of it," he said, "since +you're so uncommon clever. Me and my friend will go back to the parlour, +and take a glass of grog." + +The gentleman whom Mr. Whitelaw honoured with his friendship had stood a +little way apart all this time, wiping his forehead with a big orange +coloured silk handkerchief. That blow upon his shin must have been rather +a sharp one, if it had brought that cold sweat out upon his ashen face. + +"Yes," he muttered; "come along, can't you? don't stand cawing here all +night;" and hurried downstairs before his host. + +It had been all the business of a couple of minutes. Ellen Whitelaw and +Mrs. Tadman went down to the ground floor by another staircase leading +directly to the kitchen. The room looked comfortable enough, and the two +servant-girls were sitting at a table near the fire. One was a strapping +rosy-cheeked country girl, who did all the household work; the other an +overgrown clumsy-looking girl, hired straight from the workhouse by Mr. +Whitelaw, from economical motives; a stolid-looking girl, whose intellect +was of the lowest order; a mere zoophyte girl, one would say--something +between the vegetable and animal creation. + +This one, whose name was Sarah Batts, was chiefly employed in the +poultry-yard and dairy. She had a broad brawny hand, which was useful for +the milking of cows, and showed some kind of intelligence in the +management of young chickens and the treatment of refractory hens. + +Martha Holden, the house-servant, was busy making herself a cap as her +mistress came into the kitchen, droning some Hampshire ballad by way of +accompaniment to her work. Sarah Batts was seated in an attitude of +luxurious repose, with her arms folded, and her feet on the fender. + +"Was it either of you girls that screamed just now?" Ellen asked +anxiously. + +"Screamed, ma'am! no, indeed," Martha Holden answered, with an air of +perfect good faith. "What should we scream for? I've been sitting here +at my work for the last hour, as quiet as could be." + +"And, Sarah,--was it you, Sarah? For goodness' sake tell the truth." + +"Me, mum! lor no, mum. I was up with master showing him and the strange +gentleman a light." + +"You were upstairs with your master? And did you hear nothing? A piercing +shriek that rang through the house;--you must surely have heard it, both +of you." + +Martha shook her head resolutely. + +"Not me, mum; I didn't hear a sound. The kitchen-door was shut all the +time Sarah was away, and I was busy at work, and thinking of nothing but +my work. I wasn't upon the listen, as you may say." + +The kitchen was at the extreme end of the house, remote from that +direction whence the unexplainable cry seemed to have come. + +"It is most extraordinary," Ellen said gravely, perplexed beyond all +measure. "But you, Sarah; if you were upstairs with your master, you must +surely have heard that shriek; it seemed to come from upstairs." + +"Did master hear it?" asked the girl deliberately. + +"He says not." + +"Then how should I, mum? No, mum, I didn't hear nothink; I can take my +Bible oath of that." + +"I don't want any oaths; I only want to know the meaning of this +business. There would have been no harm in your screaming. You might just +as well speak the truth about it." + +"Lor, mum, but it warn't me," answered Sarah Batts with an injured look. +"Whatever could go to put it in your head as it was me?" + +"It must have been one or other of you two girls. There's no other woman +in the house; and as you were upstairs, it seems more likely to have been +you. However, there's no use talking any more about it. Only we both +heard the scream, didn't we, Mrs. Tadman?" + +"I should think we did, indeed," responded the widow with a vehement +shudder. "My flesh is all upon the creep at this very moment. I don't +think I ever had such a turn in my life." + +They went back to the parlour, leaving the two servants still sitting by +the fire; Sarah Batts with that look of injured innocence fixed upon her +wooden countenance, Martha Holden cheerfully employed in the construction +of her Sunday cap. In the parlour the two men were both standing by the +table, the stranger with his back to the women as they entered, Stephen +Whitelaw facing him. The former seemed to have been counting something, +but stopped abruptly as the women came into the room. + +There was a little heap of bank-notes lying on the table. Stephen +snatched them up hastily, and thrust them in a bundle into his +waistcoat-pocket; while the stranger put a strap round a bulky red +morocco pocket-book with a more deliberate air, as of one who had nothing +to hide from the world. + +That guilty furtive air of Stephen's, and, above all, that passage of +money between the two men, confirmed Mrs. Tadman in her notion that +Wyncomb Farm was going to change hands. She resumed her seat by the fire +with a groan, and accepted Ellen's offer of a glass of spirits-and-water +with a doleful shake of her head. + +"Didn't I tell you so?" she whispered, as Mrs. Whitelaw handed her the +comforting beverage. + +The stranger was evidently on the point of departure. There was a sound +of wheels on the gravel outside the parlour window--the familiar sound of +Stephen Whitelaw's chaise-cart; and that gentleman was busy helping his +visitor on with his great-coat. + +"I shall be late for the last train," said the stranger, "unless your man +drives like the very devil." + +"He'll drive fast enough, I daresay, if you give him half-a-crown," Mr. +Whitelaw answered with a grin; "but don't let him go and do my horse any +damage, or you'll have to pay for it." + +"Of course. You'd like to get the price of a decent animal out of me for +that broken-kneed hard-mouthed brute of yours," replied the stranger with +a scornful laugh. "I think there never was such a money-grubbing, +grinding, grasping beggar since the world began. However, you've seen the +last shilling you're ever likely to get out of me; so make the best of +it; and remember, wherever I may be, there are friends of mine in this +country who will keep a sharp look-out upon you, and let me know precious +quick if you don't stick to your part of our bargain like an honest man, +or as nearly like one as nature will allow you to come. And now +good-night, Mr. Whitelaw.--Ladies, your humble servant." + +He was gone before Ellen or Mrs. Tadman could reply to his parting +salutation, had they been disposed to do so. Mr. Whitelaw went out with +him, and gave some final directions to the stable-lad who was to drive +the chaise-cart, and presently came back to the parlour, looking +considerably relieved by his guest's departure. + +Mrs. Tadman rushed at once to the expression of her fears. + +"Stephen Whitelaw," she exclaimed solemnly, "tell us the worst at once. +It's no good keeping things back from us. That man has come here to turn +us out of house and home. You've sold Wyncomb." + +"Sold Wyncomb! Have you gone crazy, you old fool?" cried Mr. Whitelaw, +contemplating his kinswoman with a most evil expression of countenance. +"What's put that stuff in your head?" + +"Your own doings, Stephen, and that man's. What does he come here for, +with his masterful ways, unless it's to turn us out of house and home? +What did you show him the house for? Nigh upon an hour you were out of +this room with him, if you were a minute. Why did money pass from him to +you? I saw you put it in your pocket--a bundle of bank-notes." + +"You're a prying old catemeran!" cried Mr. Whitelaw savagely, "and a +drunken old fool into the bargain.--Why do you let her muddle herself +with the gin-bottle like that, Ellen? You ought to have more respect for +my property. You don't call that taking care of your husband's house.--As +for you, mother Tadman, if you treat me to any more of this nonsense, you +will find yourself turned out of house and home a precious deal sooner +than you bargained for; but it won't be because of my selling Wyncomb. +Sell Wyncomb, indeed! I've about as much thought of going up in a +balloon, as of parting with a rood or a perch of my father's land." + +This was a very long speech for Mr. Whitelaw; and, having finished it, he +sank into his chair, quite exhausted by the unusual effort, and refreshed +himself with copious libations of gin-and-water. + +"What was that man here for, then, Stephen? It's only natural I should +want to know that," said Mrs. Tadman, abashed, but not struck dumb by her +kinsman's reproof. + +"What's that to you? Business. Yes, there _has_ been money pass between +us, and it's rather a profitable business for me. Perhaps it was +horse-racing, perhaps it wasn't. That's about all you've any call to +know. I've made money by it, and not lost. And now, don't let me be +bothered about it any more, if you and me are to keep friends." + +"I'm sure, Stephen," Mrs. Tadman remonstrated in a feebly plaintive tone, +"I've no wish to bother you; there's nothing farther from my thoughts; +but it's only natural that I should be anxious about a place where I've +lived so many years. Not but what I could get my living easy enough +elsewhere, as you must know, Stephen, being able to turn my hand to +almost anything." + +To this feeble protest Mr. Whitelaw vouchsafed no answer. He had lighted +his pipe by this time, and was smoking and staring at the fire with his +usual stolid air--meditative, it might be, or only ruminant, like one of +his own cattle. + +But all through that night Mr. Whitelaw, who was not commonly a seer of +visions or dreamer of dreams, had his slumbers disturbed by some unwonted +perplexity of spirit. His wife lay broad awake, thinking of that +prolonged and piercing cry, which seemed to her, the more she meditated +upon it, in have been a cry of anguish or of terror, and could not fail +to notice this unusual disturbance of her husband's sleep. More than once +he muttered to himself in a troubled manner; but his words, for the most +part, were incoherent and disjointed--words of which that perplexed +listener could make nothing. + +Once she heard him say, "A bad job--dangerous business." + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + +IN PURSUIT. + + +John Saltram improved daily at Hampton Court. In spite of his fierce +impatience to get well, in order to engage in the search for Marian--an +impatience which was in itself sufficient to militate against his +well-being--he did make considerable progress on the road to recovery. He +was still very weak, and it must take time to complete his restoration; +but he was no longer the pale ghost of his former self that Gilbert had +brought down to the quiet suburb. + +It would have been a cruel thing to leave him much alone at such a time, +or it would have seemed very cruel to Gilbert Fenton, who had ever +present in his memory those old days in Egypt when this man had stood him +in such good stead. He remembered the days of his own sickness, and +contrived to perform his business duties within the smallest time +possible, and so spend the rest of his life in the comfortable +sitting-rooms looking out upon Bushy-park on the one side, and on the +other upon the pretty high road before the Palace grounds. + +Nor was there any sign in the intercourse of those two that the bond of +friendship between them was broken. There was, it is true, a something +deprecating in John Saltram's manner that had not been common to him of +old, and in Gilbert Fenton a deeper gravity than was quite natural; but +that was all. It was difficult to believe that any latent spirit of +animosity could lurk in the mind of either. In sober truth, Gilbert, in +his heart of hearts, had forgiven his treacherous friend. Again and again +he had told himself that the wrong he had suffered was an unpardonable +offence, a thing not to be forgiven upon any ground whatever. But, lo, +when he looked into his mind to discover the smouldering fires of that +burning anger which he had felt at first against the traitor, he could +find nothing but the gray ashes of a long-expired flame. The wrong had +been suffered, and he loved his old friend still. Yes, there was that in +his heart for John Saltram which no ill-doing could blot out. + +So he tended the convalescent's couch with a quiet devotion that touched +the sinner very deeply, and there was a peace between those two which +had in it something almost sacred. In the mind of the one there was a +remorseful sense of guilt, in the heart of the other a pitying tenderness +too deep for words. + +One night, as they were together on opposite sides of the fire, John +Saltram lying on a low sofa drawn close to the hearth, Gilbert seated +lazily in an easy-chair, the invalid broke out suddenly into a kind of +apology for his wrong-doing. + +The conversation had flagged between them after the tea-things had been +removed by the brisk little serving-maid of the lodgings; Gilbert gazing +meditatively at the fire, John Saltram so quiet that his companion had +thought him asleep. + +"I said once that I would tell you all about that business," he began at +last, in a sudden spasmodic way; "but, after all there is so little to +tell. There is no excuse for what I did; I know that better than you can +know it. A man in my position, who had a spark of generosity or honour, +would have strangled his miserable passion in its birth, would have gone +away directly he discovered his folly, and never looked upon Marian +Nowell's face again. I did try to do that, Gilbert. You remember that +last night we ever spent together at Lidford--what a feverishly-happy +night it was; only a cottage-parlour with a girl's bright face shining in +the lamplight, and a man over head and ears in love, but a glimpse of +paradise to that man. I meant that it should be the last of my weakness, +Gilbert. I had pledged myself to that by all the outspoken oaths +wherewith a man can bind himself to do his duty. And I did turn my back +upon the scene of my temptation, as you know, heartily resolved never to +approach the edge of the pit again. I think if you had stayed in England, +Gilbert, if you had been on the spot to defend your own rights, all would +have gone well, I should have kept the promise I had made for myself." + +"It was so much the more sacred because of my absence, John," Gilbert +said. + +"Perhaps. After all, I suppose it was only a question of opportunity. +That particular devil who tempts men to their dishonour contrived that +the business should be made fatally easy for me. You were away, and the +coast was clear, you know. I loved you, Gilbert; but there is a passion +stronger than the love which a man feels for his dearest friend. I meant +most steadfastly to keep my faith with you; but you were away, and that +fellow Forster plagued me to come to him. I refused at first--yes, I held +out for a couple of months; but the fever was strong upon me--a restless +demon not to be exorcised by hard work, or dissipation even, for I tried +both. And then before you were at the end of your journey, while you were +still a wanderer across the desolate sea, happy in the thought of your +dear love's fidelity, my courage gave way all at once, and I went down +to Heatherly. And so I saw her, and saw that she loved me--all unworthy +as I was; and from that hour I was a lost man; I thought of nothing but +winning her." + +"If you had only been true to me, even then, John; if you had written to +me declaring the truth, and giving me fair warning that you were my +rival, how much better it would have been! Think what a torture of +suspense, what a world of wasted anger, you might have saved me." + +"Yes, it would have been the manlier course, no doubt," the other +answered; "but I could not bring myself to that. I could not face the +idea of your justifiable wrath. I wanted to win my wife and keep my +friend. It was altogether a weak notion, that idea of secrecy, of course, +and couldn't hold water for any time, as the result has shown; but I +thought you would get over your disappointment quickly--those wounds are +apt to heal so speedily--and fall in love elsewhere; and then it would +have been easy for me to tell you the truth. So I persuaded my dear love, +who was easily induced to do anything I wished, to consent to our secret +being kept from you religiously for the time being, and to that end we +were married under a false name--not exactly a false name either. You +remember my asking you if you had ever heard the name of Holbrook before +your hunt after Marian's husband? You said no; yet I think you must have +seen the name in some of my old college books. I was christened John +Holbrook. My grandmother was one of the Holbrooks of Horley-place, +Sussex, people of some importance in their day, and our family were +rather proud of the name. But I have dropped it ever since I was a lad." + +"No, I don't think I can ever have seen the name; I must surely have +remembered it, if I had seen it." + +"Perhaps so. Well, Gilbert, there is no more to be said. I loved her, +selfishly, after the manner of mankind. I could not bring myself to give +her up, and pursued her with a passionate persistence which must plead +_her_ excuse. If her uncle had lived, I doubt whether I should ever have +succeeded. But his death left the tender womanly heart weakened by +sorrow; and so I won her, the dearest, truest wife that ever man was +blest withal. Yet, I confess to you, so wayward is my nature, that there +have been moments in which I repented my triumph--weak hours of doubt and +foreboding, in which I fear that dear girl divined my thoughts. Since our +wretched separation I have fancied sometimes that a conviction of this +kind on her part is at the root of the business, that she has alienated +herself from me, believing--in plain words--that I was tired of her." + +"Such an idea as that would scarcely agree with Ellen Carley's account of +Marian's state of mind during that last day or two at the Grange. She was +eagerly expecting your return, looking forward with delight to the +pleasant surprise you were to experience when you heard of Jacob Nowell's +will." + +"Yes, the girl told me that. Great heavens, why did I not return a few +days earlier! I was waiting for money, not caring to go back +empty-handed; writing and working like a nigger. I dared not meet my poor +girl at her grandfather's, since in so doing I must risk an encounter +with you." + +After this they talked of Marian's disappearance for some time, going +over the same ground very often in their helplessness, and able, at last, +to arrive at no satisfactory conclusion. If she were with her father, she +was with a bad, unscrupulous man. That was a fact which Gilbert Fenton no +longer pretended to deny. They sat talking till late, and parted for the +night in very different spirits. + +Gilbert had a good deal of hard work in the City on the following day; a +batch of foreign correspondence too important to be entrusted to a clerk, +and two or three rather particular interviews. All this occupied him up +to so late an hour, that he was obliged to sleep in London that night, +and to defer his return to Hampton till the next day's business was over. +This time he got over his work by an early hour, and was able to catch a +train that left Waterloo at half-past five. He felt a little uneasy at +having been away from the convalescent so long though he knew that John +Saltram was now strong enough to get on tolerably without him, and that +the people of the house were careful and kindly, ready at any moment to +give assistance if it were wanted. + +"Strange," he thought to himself, as the train approached the quiet, +river-side village--"strange that I should be so fond of the fellow, in +spite of all; that I should care more for his society than that of any +man living. It is the mere force of habit, I suppose. After all these +years of liking, the link between us is not to be broken, even by the +deepest wrong that one man can do another." + +The spring twilight was closing in as he crossed the bridge and walked +briskly along an avenue of leafless trees at the side of the green. The +place had a peaceful rustic look at this dusky hour. There were no traces +of that modern spoiler the speculative builder just hereabouts; and the +quaint old houses near the barracks, where lights were twinkling feebly +here and there, had a look of days that are gone, a touch of that +plaintive poetry which pervades all relics of the past. Gilbert felt the +charm of the hour; the air still and mild, the silence only broken by the +cawing of palatial rooks; and whatever tenderness towards John Saltram +there was lurking in his breast seemed to grow upon him as he drew nearer +to their lodgings; so that his mood was of the softest when he opened the +little garden-gate and went in. + +"I will make no further pretence of enmity," he said to himself; "I will +not keep up this farce of estrangement. We two will be friends once more. +Life is not long enough for the rupture of such a friendship." + +There was no light shining in the parlour window, no pleasant home-glow +streaming out upon the night. The blank created by this unwonted darkness +chilled him somehow, and there was a vague sense of dread in his mind as +he opened the door. There was no need to knock. The simple household was +untroubled by the fear of burglariously-disposed intruders, and the door +was rarely fastened until after dark. + +Gilbert went into the parlour; all was dark and silent in the two rooms, +which communicated with folding doors, and made one fair-sized apartment. +There were no preparations for dinner; he could see that in the deepening +dusk. The fire had been evidently neglected, and was at an expiring +point. + +"John!" he called, stirring the fire with a vigorous hand, whereby he +gave it the _coup-de-grace_, and the last glimmer sank to darkness. +"John, what are you doing?" + +He fancied the convalescent had fallen asleep upon the sofa in the inner +room; but when he went in search of him, he found nothing but emptiness. +He rang the bell violently, and the brisk maid-servant came flying in. + +"Oh, dear, sir, you did give me and missus such a turn!" she said, +gasping, with her hand on her heart, as if that organ had been seriously +affected. "We never heard you come in, and when the bell rung----" + +"Is Mr. Saltram worse?" Gilbert asked, eagerly. + +"Worse, poor dear gentleman; no, sir, I should hope not, though he well +may be, for there never was any one so imprudent, not of all the invalids +I've ever had to do with--and Hampton is a rare place for invalids. And I +feel sure if you'd been here, sir, you wouldn't have let him do it." + +"Let him do what? Are you crazy, girl? What, in heaven's name, are you +talking of?" + +"You wouldn't have let him start off to London post-haste, as he did +yesterday afternoon, and scarcely able to stand alone, in a manner of +speaking." + +"Gone to London! Do you mean to say that my friend Mr. Saltram went to +London?" + +"Yes, sir; yesterday afternoon between four and five." + +"What utter madness! And when did he come back?" + +"Lor' bless you, sir, he ain't come back yet. He told missus as his +coming back was quite uncertain, and she was not to worry herself about +him. She did all she could, almost to going down on her knees, to hinder +him going; but it was no use. It was a matter of life and death as he was +going upon, he said, and that there was no power on earth could keep him +back, not if he was ten times worse than he was. The strange gentleman +hadn't been in the house much above a quarter of an hour, when they was +both off together in a fly to the station." + +"What strange gentleman?" + +"A stout middle-aged man, sir, with gray whiskers, that came from London, +and asked for you first, and then for Mr. Saltram; and those two hadn't +been together more than five minutes, when Mr. Saltram rang the bell in a +violent hurry, and told my missus he was going to town immediate, on most +particular business, and would she pack him a carpet-bag with a couple of +shirts, and so on. And then she tried all she could to turn him from +going; but it was no good, as I was telling you, sir, just now. Go he +would, and go he did; looking quite flushed and bright-like when he went +out, so as you'd have scarcely known how ill he'd been. And he left a bit +of a note for you on the chimbley-piece, sir." + +Gilbert found the note; a hurried scrawl upon half a sheet, of paper, +twisted up hastily, and unsealed. + +"She is found, Gilbert," wrote John Saltram. "Proul has traced the father +to his lair at last, and my darling is with him. They are lodging at 14, +Coleman-street, Tottenham-court-road. I am off this instant. Don't be +angry with me, true and faithful friend; I could not rest an hour away +from her now that she is found. I have no plan of action, but leave all +to the inspiration of the moment. You can follow me whenever you please. +Marian must thank you for your goodness to me. Marian must persuade you +to forgive my sin against you--Ever yours, J.S." + +Follow him! yes, of course. Gilbert had no other thought. And she was +found at last, after all their suspense, their torturing anxiety. She was +found; and whatever danger there might be in her association with +Percival Nowell, she was safe so far, and would be speedily extricated +from the perilous alliance by her husband. It seemed at first so happy a +thing that Gilbert could scarcely realise it; and yet, throughout the +weary interval of ignorance as to her fate, he had always declared his +belief in her safety. Had he been really as confident as he had seemed, +as the days had gone by, one after another, without bringing him any +tidings of her? had there been no shapeless terror in his mind, no dark +dread that when the knowledge came, it might be something worse than +ignorance? Yes, now in the sudden fulness of his joy, he knew how much he +had feared, how very near he had been to despair. + +But John Saltram, what of him? Was it not at the hazard of his life that +he had gone upon this sudden journey, reckless and excited, in a fever of +hope and delight? + +"Providence will surely be good to him," Gilbert thought. + +"He bore the journey from town when he was much worse than he is now. +Surely he will bear a somewhat rougher journey now, buoyed up by hope." + +The landlady came in presently, and insisted upon giving Mr. Fenton her +own version of the story which he had just heard from her maid; and a +very close and elaborate version it was, though not remarkable for any +new facts. He was fain to listen to it with a show of patience, however, +and to consent to eat a mutton chop which the good woman insisted upon +cooking for him, after his confession that he had eaten nothing since +breakfast. He kept telling himself that there was no hurry; that he was +not wanted in Coleman-street; that his presence there was a question of +his own gratification and nothing else; but the fever in his mind was not +to be set at rest go easily. There was a sense of hurry upon him that he +could not shake off, argue with himself as wisely as he would. + +He took a hasty meal, and started off to the railway station directly +afterwards, though there was no train to carry him back to London for +nearly an hour. + +It was weary work waiting at the little station, while the keen March +wind blew sharply across the unsheltered platform on which Gilbert paced +to and fro in his restlessness; weary work waiting, with that sense of +hurry and anxiety upon him, not to be shaken off by any effort he could +make to take a hopeful view of the future. He tried to think of those two +whom he loved best on earth, whose union he had taught himself, by a +marvellous effort of unselfishness, to contemplate with serenity, tried +to think of them in the supreme happiness of their restoration to each +other; but he could not bring his mind to the realisation of this +picture. After all those torments of doubt and perplexity which he had +undergone during the last three months, the simple fact of Marian's +safety seemed too good a thing to be true. He was tortured by a vague +sense of the unreality of this relief that had come so suddenly to put an +end to all perplexities. + +"I feel as if I were the victim of some hoax, some miserable delusion," +he said to himself. "Not till I see her, not till I clasp her by the +hand, shall I believe that she is really given back to us." + +And in his eagerness to do this, to put an end to that slow torture of +unreasonable doubt which had come upon him since the reading of John +Saltram's letter, the delay at the railway station was an almost +intolerable ordeal; but the hour came to an end at last, the place awoke +from its blank stillness to a faint show of life and motion, a door or +two banged, a countrified-looking young woman with a good many bundles +and a band-box came out of the waiting-room and arranged her possessions +in readiness for the coming train, a porter emerged lazily from some +unknown corner and looked up the line--then, after another five minutes +of blankness, there came a hoarse throbbing in the distance, a bell rang, +and the up-train panted into the station. It was a slow train, unluckily +for Gilbert's impatience, which stopped everywhere, and the journey to +London took him over an hour. It was past nine when a hansom drove him +into Coleman-street, a dull unfrequented-looking thoroughfare between +Tottenham-court-road and Gower-street, overshadowed a little by the +adjacent gloom of the University Hospital, and altogether a low-spirited +street. + +Gilbert looked up eagerly at the windows of Number 14, expecting to see +lights shining, and some visible sign of rejoicing, even upon the house +front; but there was nothing. Either the shutters were shut, or there was +no light within, for the windows were blank and dark. It was a slight +thing, but enough to intensify that shapeless foreboding against which he +had been struggling throughout his journey. + +"You must have come to the wrong house," he said to the cabman as he got +out. + +"No, sir, this is 14." + +Yes, it was the right number. Gilbert read it on the door; and yet it +could scarcely be the right house; for tied to the door-handle was a +placard with "Apartments" engraved upon it, and this house would hardly +be large enough to accommodate other lodgers besides Mr. Nowell and his +daughter. Yet there is no knowing the capabilities of a London +lodging-house in an obscure quarter, and there might be some vacant +garret in the roof, or some dreary two-pair back, dignified by the name +of "apartments." Gilbert gave a loud hurried knock. There was a delay +which seemed to him interminable, then a hasty shuffling of slipshod feet +upon the basement stairs, then the glimmer of a light through the +keyhole, the removal of a chain, and at last the opening of the door. It +was opened by a young person with her hair dressed in the prevailing +fashion, and an air of some gentility, which clashed a little with a +certain slatternliness that pervaded her attire. She was rather a pretty +girl, but had the faded London look of late hours, and precocious cares, +instead of the fresh bloom and girlish brightness which should have +belonged to her. + +"Did you please to wish to see the apartments, sir?" she asked politely. + +"No; I want to see Mr. and Mrs.--the lady and gentleman who are lodging +here." + +He scarcely knew under what name he ought to ask for Marian. It seemed +unnatural to him now to speak of her as Mrs. Holbrook. + +"The lady and gentleman, sir!" the girl exclaimed with a surprised air. +"There's no one lodging here now. Mr. Nowell and his daughter left +yesterday morning." + +"Left yesterday morning?" + +"Yes, sir. They went away to Liverpool; they are going to America--to New +York." + +"Mr. Nowell and his daughter, Mrs. Holbrook?" + +"Yes, sir, that was the lady's name." + +"It's impossible," cried Gilbert; "utterly impossible that Mrs. Holbrook +would go to America! She has ties that would keep her in England; a +husband whom she would never abandon in that manner. There must be some +mistake here." + +"O no, indeed, sir, there's no mistake. I saw all the luggage labelled +with my own eyes, and the direction was New York by steam-packet +_Oronoco_; and Mrs. Holbrook had lots of dresses made, and all sorts of +things. And as to her husband, sir, her father told me that he'd treated +her very badly, and that she never meant to go back to him again to be +made unhappy by him. She was going to New York to live with Mr. Nowell +all the rest of her life." + +"There must have been some treachery, some underhand work, to bring this +about. Did she go of her own free will?" + +"O, dear me, yes, sir. Mr. Nowell was kindness itself to her, and she was +very fond of him, and pleased to go to America, as far as I could make +out." + +"And she never seemed depressed or unhappy?" + +"I never noticed her being so, sir. They were out a good deal, you see; +for Mr. Nowell was a gay gentleman, very fond of pleasure, and he would +have Mrs. Holbrook always with him. They were away in Paris ever so long, +in January and the beginning of February, but kept on the lodgings all +the same. They were very good lodgers." + +"Had they many visitors?" + +"No, sir; scarcely any one except a gentleman who used to come sometimes +of an evening, and sit drinking spirits-and-water with Mr. Nowell; he was +his lawyer, I believe, but I never heard his name." + +"Did no one come here yesterday to inquire for Mrs. Holbrook towards +evening?" + +"Yes, sir; there was a gentleman came in a cab. He looked very ill, as +pale as death, and was in a dreadful way when he found they were gone. He +asked me a great many questions, the same as you've asked me, and I think +I never saw any one so cut-up as he seemed. He didn't say much about that +either, but it was easy to see it in his face. He wanted to look at the +apartments, to see whether he could find anything, an old letter or +such-like, that might be a help to him in going after his friends, and +mother took him upstairs." + +"Did he find anything?" + +"No, sir; Mr. Nowell hadn't left so much as a scrap of paper about the +place. So the gentleman thanked mother, and went away in the same cab as +had brought him." + +"Do you know where he was going?" + +"I fancy he was going to Liverpool after Mr. Nowell and his daughter. He +seemed all in a fever, like a person that's ready to do anything +desperate. But I heard him tell the cabman Cavendish-square." + +"Cavendish-square! Yes, I can guess where he was going. But what could he +want there?" Gilbert said to himself, while the girl stared at him +wonderingly, thinking that he, as well as the other gentleman, had gone +distraught on account of Mr. Nowell's daughter. + +"Thank you for answering my questions so patiently, and good-night," said +Gilbert, slipping some silver into her hand; for his quick eye had +observed the faded condition of her finery, and a general air of poverty +conspicuous in her aspect. "Stay," he added, taking out his card-case; +"if you should hear anything farther of these people, I should be much +obliged by your sending me word at that address." + +"I won't forget, sir; not that I think we're likely to hear any more of +them, they being gone straight off to America." + +"Perhaps not. But if you do hear anything, let me know." + +He had dismissed his cab on alighting in Coleman-street, believing that +his journey was ended; but the walk to Cavendish-square was a short one, +and he set out at a rapid pace. + +The check that had befallen him was a severe one. It seemed a deathblow +to all hope, a dreary realization of that vague dread which had pursued +him from the first. If Marian had indeed started for America, what new +difficulties must needs attend every effort to bring her back; since it +was clear that her father's interests were involved in keeping her under +his influence, and separating her entirely from her husband. The journey +to New York was no doubt intended to secure this state of things. In +America, in that vast country, with which this man was familiar with long +residence, how easy for him to hide her for ever from her friends! how +vain would all inquiries, all researches be likely to prove! + +At the ultimate moment, in the hour of hope and rejoicing, she was lost to +them irrevocably. + +"Yet criminals have been traced upon the other side of the Atlantic, +where the police have been prompt to follow them," Gilbert said to +himself, glancing for an instant at the more hopeful side of the +question; "but not often where they've got anything like a start. Did +John Saltram really mean to follow those two to Liverpool, I wonder? +Such a journey would seem like madness, in his state; and yet what a +triumph if he should have been in time to prevent their starting by the +_Oronoco_!" + +And then, after a pause, he asked himself, + +"What could he want with Mrs. Branston, at a time when every moment was +precious? Money, perhaps. He could have had none with him. Yes, money, no +doubt; but I shall discover that from her presently, and may learn +something of his plans into the bargain." + +Gilbert went into a stationer's shop and purchased a _Bradshaw_. There +was a train leaving Euston station for Liverpool at a quarter to eleven. +He might be in time for that, after seeing Mrs. Branston. That lady +happened fortunately to be at home, and received Gilbert alone in her +favourite back drawing-room, where he found her ensconced in that snug +retreat made by the six-leaved Japanese screen, which formed a kind of +temple on one side of the fire-place. There had been a final rupture +between Adela and Mrs. Pallinson a few days before, and that matron, +having shown her cards a little too plainly, had been routed by an +unwonted display of spirit on the part of the pretty little widow. She +was gone, carrying all her belongings with her, and leaving peace and +liberty behind her. The flush of triumph was still upon Mrs. Branston; +and this unexpected victory, brief and sudden in its occurrence, like +most great victories, was almost a consolation to her for that +disappointment which had stricken her so heavily of late. + +Adela Branston welcomed her visitor very graciously; but Gilbert had no +time to waste upon small talk, and after a hasty apology for his untimely +intrusion, dashed at once into the question he had come to ask. + +"John Saltram was with you yesterday evening, Mrs. Branston," he said. +"Pray tell me the purpose that brought him here, and anything you know of +his plan of action after leaving you." + +"I can tell you very little about that. He was going upon a journey he +told me, that evening, immediately indeed; a most important journey; but +he did not tell me where he was going." + +"I think I can guess that," said Gilbert. "Did he seem much agitated?" + +"No; he was quite calm; but he had a resolute air, like a man who has +some great purpose to achieve. I thought him looking very white and weak, +and told him that I was sure he was too ill to start upon a long journey, +or any journey. I begged him not to go, if it were possible to avoid +going, and used every argument I could think of to persuade him to +abandon the idea of such a thing. But it was all no use. 'If I had only a +dozen hours to live, I must go,' he said." + +"He came to ask you for money for his journey, did he not?" + +"He did. I suppose to so close a friend as you are to him, there can be +no breach of confidence in my admitting that. He came to borrow any +ready-money I might happen to have in the house. Fortunately, I had a +hundred and twenty pounds by me in hard cash." + +"And he took that?--he wanted as much as that?" asked Gilbert eagerly. + +"Yes, he said he was likely to require as much as that." + +"Then he must have thought of going to America." + +"To America! travel to America in his weak state of health?" cried Mrs. +Branston, aghast. + +"Yes. It seems like madness, does it not? But there are circumstances +under which a man may be excused for being almost mad. John Saltram has +gone in pursuit of some one very dear to him, some one who has been +separated from him by treachery." + +"A woman?" + +Adela Branston's fair face flushed crimson as she asked the question. A +woman? Yes, no doubt he was in pursuit of that woman whom he loved better +than her. + +"I cannot stop to answer a single question now, my dear Mrs. Branston," +Gilbert said gently. "You shall know all by-and-by, and I am sure your +generous heart will forgive any wrong that has been done you in this +business. Good night. I have to catch a train at a quarter to eleven; I +am going to Liverpool." + +"After Mr. Saltram?" + +"Yes; I do not consider him in a fitting condition to travel alone. I +hope to be in time to prevent his doing anything rash." + +"But how will you find him?" + +"I must make a round of the hotels till I discover his head-quarters. +Good night." + +"Let me order my carriage to take you to the station." + +"A thousand thanks, but I shall be there before your carriage would be +ready. I can pick up a cab close by and shall have time to call at my +lodgings for a carpet-bag. Once more, good night." + +It was still dark when Gilbert Fenton arrived at Liverpool. He threw +himself upon a sofa in the waiting-room, where he had an hour or so of +uncomfortable, unrefreshing sleep, and then roused himself and went out +to begin his round of the hotels. + +A surly fly-driver of unknown age and prodigious deafness carried him +from house to house; first to all the principal places of entertainment, +aristocratic, family, and commercial; then to more obscure taverns and +boarding-houses, until the sun was high and the commerce of Liverpool in +full swing; and at all these places Gilbert questioned night-porters, +and chief waiters, and head chamber-maids, until his brain grew dizzy by +mere repetition of his questions; but no positive tidings could he obtain +of John Saltram. There was a coffee-house near the quay where it seemed +just possible that he had slept; but even here the description was of the +vaguest, and the person described might just as well have been John Smith +as John Saltram. Gilbert dismissed the fly-man and his vehicle at last, +thoroughly wearied out with that morning's work. + +He went to one of the hotels, took a hasty breakfast, and then hurried +off to the offices belonging to the owners of the _Oronoco_. + +That vessel had started for New York at nine o'clock on the previous +morning, and John Saltram had gone with her. His name was the last on the +list of passengers; he had only taken his passage an hour before the +steamer left Liverpool, but there his name was in black and white. The +names of Percival Nowell, and of Mrs. Holbrook, his daughter, were also +in the list. The whole business was clear enough, and there was nothing +more that Gilbert could do. Had John Saltram been strong and well, his +friend would have felt nothing but satisfaction in the thought that he +was going in the same vessel with Marian, and would without doubt bring +her back in triumph. But the question of his health was a painful one to +contemplate. Could he, or could he not endure the strain that he had put +upon himself within the last eight-and-forty hours? In desperate straits +men can do desperate things--there was always that fact to be remembered; +but still John Saltram might break down under the burden he had taken +upon himself; and when Gilbert went back to London that afternoon he was +sorely anxious about this feeble traveller. + +He found a letter from him at the lodgings in Wigmore-street; a hurried +letter written at Liverpool the night before John Saltram's departure. He +had arrived there too late to get on board the _Oronoco_ that night, and +had ascertained that the vessel was to leave at nine next morning. + +"I shall take my passage in her in case of the worst," he wrote; "and if +I cannot see Marian and persuade her to come on shore with me, I must go +with her to New York. Heaven knows what power her father may use against +me in the brief opportunity I shall have for seeing her before the vessel +starts; but he can't prevent my being their fellow-passenger, and once +afloat it shall go hard with me if I cannot make my dear girl hear +reason. Do not be uneasy about my health, dear old friend; you see how +well I am keeping up under all this strain upon body and mind. You will +see me come back from America a new man, strong enough to prove my +gratitude for your devotion, in some shape or other, I trust in God." + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + +OUTWARD BOUND. + + +The bustle of departure was at its culminating point when John Saltram +went on board the _Oronoco_, captain and officers scudding hither and +thither, giving orders and answering inquiries at every point, with a +sharp, short, decisive air, as of commanding powers in the last half-hour +before a great battle; steward and his underlings ubiquitous; passengers +roaming vaguely to and fro, in quest of nothing particular, and in a +state of semi-distraction. + +In this scene of confusion there was no one to answer Mr. Saltram's eager +inquires about those travellers whom he had pursued to this point. He did +contrive, just about ten minutes before the vessel sailed, to capture the +ubiquitous steward by the button-hole, and to ask for tidings of Mr. +Nowell, before that excited functionary could wrench himself away. + +"Mr. Nowell, sir; upon my word, sir, I can't say. Yes, there is a +gentleman of that name on board; state-rooms number 5 and 7; got a +daughter with him--tall dark gentleman, with a moustache and beard. Yes, +sir, he was on deck just now, on the bridge; but I don't see him, I +suppose he's gone below. Better look for him in the saloon, sir." + +The ten minutes were over before John Saltram had seen half the faces on +board the crowded vessel; but in his hurried wanderings to and fro, eager +to see that one face which he so ardently desired to behold once wore, he +had met nothing but strangers. There was no help for it: the vessel would +steam out seaward presently, and he must needs go with her. At the best, +he had expected this. It was not likely that, even if he could have +obtained speech with his wife, she could have been prevailed upon +immediately to desert the father whose fortunes she had elected to +follow, and return to shore with the husband she had abandoned. Her mind +must have been poisoned, her judgment perverted, before she could have +left him thus of her own free will; and it would need the light of calm +reason to set things right again. No; John Saltram could scarcely hope to +carry her off by a _coup-de-main_, in the face of the artful schemer who +had evidently obtained so strong an influence over her. That she could +for a moment contemplate this voyage to America with her father, was +enough to demonstrate the revolution that must have taken place in her +feelings towards her husband. + +"Slander and lies are very strong," John Saltram said to himself; "but I +do not think, when my dear love and I are once face to face, any power on +earth can prevail against me. She must be changed indeed, if it can; she +must be changed indeed, if anything but a lie can part us." + +He had come on board the _Oronoco_ prepared for the worst, and furnished +with a slender outfit for the voyage, hurriedly purchased at a Liverpool +clothier's. He had plenty of money in his pocket--enough to pay for his +own and his wife's return passage; and the thought of this useless +journey across the Atlantic troubled him very little. What did it matter +where he was, if she were with him? The mental torture he had undergone +during all this time, in which he had seemed in danger of losing her +altogether, had taught him how dear she was--how precious and perfect a +treasure he had held so lightly. + +The vessel steamed put of the Mersey, and John Saltram, indifferent to +the last glimpse of his native land, was still roaming hither and +thither, in quest of the familiar face he longed with such a passionate +yearning to see; but up to this point he sought for his wife in vain. +Mrs. Holbrook had evidently retired at once to her cabin. There was +nothing for him to do but to establish a channel of communication with +her by means of the stewardess. + +He found this official with some trouble, and so desperately busy that it +was no easy matter to obtain speech with her, pursued as she was by +forlorn and distracted female passengers, clamorously eager to know where +she had put that "waterproof cloak," or "Maud," or "travelling-bag," or +"dressing-case." He did at last contrive to enlist her services in his +behalf, and extort some answer to his questions. + +"Yes," she told him, "Mrs. Holbrook was on board--state-room number 7. +She had gone to her room at once, but would appear at dinner-time, no +doubt, if she wasn't ill." + +John Saltram tore a blank leaf from his pocket-book, and wrote one hasty +line: + + "I am here, Marian; let me see you for God's sake. + + "JOHN HOLBROOK." + +"If you'll take that to the lady in number 7, I shall be exceedingly +obliged," he said to the stewardess, slipping half-a-crown into her +willing hand at the same time. + +"Yes, sir, this very minute, sir." + +John Saltram sat down upon a bench outside the ladies' cabin, in a sort +of antechamber between the steward's pantry and store-rooms, strongly +perfumed with the odour of grocery, and waited for Marian's coming. He +had no shadow of doubt that she would come to him instantly, in defiance +of any other guardian or counseller. Whatever lies might have been told +her--however she might have been taught to doubt him--he had a perfect +faith in the power of his immediate presence. They had but to meet face +to face, and all would be well. + +Indeed, there was need that things should be well for John Saltram very +speedily. He had set nature at defiance so far, acting as if physical +weakness were unknown to him. There are periods in a man's life in which +nothing seems impossible to him; in which by the mere force of will he +triumphs over impossibility. But such conquests are apt to be of the +briefest. John Saltram felt that he must very soon break down. The +heavily throbbing heart, the aching limbs, the dizzy sight, and parched +throat, told him how much this desperate chase had cost him. If he had +strength enough to clasp his wife's hand, to give her loving greeting and +tell her that he was true, it would be about as much as he could hope to +achieve; and then he felt that he would be glad to crawl into any corner +of the vessel where he might find rest. + +The stewardess came back to him presently, with rather a discomfited air. + +"The lady says she is too ill to see any one, sir," she told John +Saltram; "but under any circumstances she must decline to see you." + +"She said that--my wife told you that?" + +"Your wife, sir! Good gracious me, is the lady in number 7 your wife? She +came on board with her father, and I understood they were only two in +party." + +"Yes; she came with her father. Her father's treachery has separated her +from me; but a few words would explain everything, if I could only see +her." + +He thought it best to tell the woman the truth, strange as it might seem +to her. Her sympathies were more likely to be enlisted in his favour if +she knew the actual state of the case. + +"Did Mrs. Holbrook positively decline to see me?" he asked again, +scarcely able to believe that Marian could have resisted even that brief +appeal scrawled upon a scrap of paper. + +"She did indeed, sir," answered the stewardess. "Nothing could be more +positive than her manner. I told her how anxious you seemed--for I could +see it in your face, you see, sir, when you gave me the paper--and I +really didn't like to bring you such a message; but it was no use. 'I +decline to see him,' the lady said, 'and be sure you bring me no more +messages from this gentleman;' and with that, sir, she tore up the bit of +paper, as cool as could be. But, dear me, sir, how ill you do look, to be +sure!" + +"I have been very ill. I came from a sick-room to follow my wife." + +"Hadn't you better go and lie down a little, sir? You look as if you +could scarcely stand. Shall I fetch the steward for you?" + +"No, thanks. I can find my way to my berth, I daresay. Yes, I suppose I +had better go and lie down. I can do no more yet awhile." + +He could do no more, and had indeed barely strength to stagger to his +sleeping-quarters, which he discovered at last with some difficulty. Here +he flung himself down, dressed as he was, and lay like a log, for hours, +not sleeping, but powerless to move hand or foot, and with his brain +racked by torturing thoughts. "As soon as I am able to stand again, I +will see her father, and exact a reckoning from him," he said to himself +again and again, during those long dreary hours of prostration; but when +the next day came, he was too weak to raise himself from his narrow bed, +and on the next day after that he was no better. The steward was much +concerned by his feeble condition, especially as it was no common case of +sea-sickness; for John Saltram had told him that he was never sea-sick. +He brought the prostrate traveller soda-water and brandy, and tried to +tempt him to eat rich soups of a nutritious character; but the sick man +would take nothing except an occasional draught of soda-water. + +On the third day of the voyage the steward was very anxious to bring the +ship's surgeon to look at Mr. Saltram; but against this John Saltram +resolutely set his face. + +"For pity's sake, don't bore me with any more doctors!" he cried +fretfully. "I have had enough of that kind of thing. The man can do +nothing for me. I am knocked up with over exertion and excitement--that's +all; my strength will come back to me sooner or later if I lie quietly +here." + +The steward gave way, for the time being, upon this appeal, and the +surgeon was not summoned; but Mr. Saltram's strength seemed very slow to +return to him. He could not sleep; he could only lie there listening to +all the noises of the ship, the perpetual creaking and rattling, and +tramping of footsteps above his head, and tortured by his impatience to +be astir again. He would not stand upon punctilio this time, he told +himself; he would go straight to the door of Marian's cabin, and stand +there until she came out to him. Was she not his wife--his very +own--powerless to hold him at bay in this manner? His strength did not +come back to him; that wakeful prostration in which the brain was always +busy, while the aching body lay still, did not appear to be a curative +process. In the course of that third night of the voyage John Saltram was +delirious, much to the alarm of his fellow-passenger, the single sharer +of his cabin, a nervous elderly gentleman, who objected to his illness +altogether as an outrage upon himself, and was indignantly desirous to +know whether it was contagious. + +So the doctor was brought to the sick man early next morning whether he +would or not, and went through the usual investigations, and promised to +administer the usual sedatives, and assured the anxious passenger that +Mr. Saltram's complaint was in nowise infectious. + +"He has evidently been suffering from serious illness lately, and has +been over-exerting himself," said the doctor; "that seems very clear. We +shall contrive to bring him round in a few days, I daresay, though he +certainly has got into a very low state." + +The doctor said this rather gravely, on which the passenger again became +disturbed of aspect. A death on board ship must needs be such an +unpleasant business, and he really had not bargained for anything of that +kind. What was the use of paying first-class fare on board a first-class +vessel, if one were subject to annoyance of this sort? In the steerage of +an overcrowded emigrant ship such a thing might be a matter of course--a +mere natural incident of the voyage--but on board the _Oronoco_ it was +most unlooked for. + +"He's not going to die, is he?" asked the passenger, with an injured air. + +"O dear, no, I should hope not. I have no apprehension of that sort," +replied the surgeon promptly. + +He would no doubt have said the same thing up to within an hour or so of +the patient's decease. + +"There is an extreme debility, that is all," he went on quite cheerfully; +"and if we can induce him to take plenty of nourishment, we shall get on +very well, I daresay." + +After this the nervous passenger was profoundly interested in the amount +of refreshment consumed by the patient, and questioned the steward about +him with a most sympathetic air. + +John Saltram, otherwise John Holbrook, was not destined to die upon this +outward voyage. He was very eager to be well, or at least to be at +liberty to move about again; and perhaps this impatient desire of his +helped in some measure to bring about his recovery. The will, +physiologists tell us, has a great deal to do with these things. + +The voyage was a prosperous one. The good ship steamed gaily across the +Atlantic through the bleak spring weather; and there was plenty of eating +and drinking, and joviality and flirtation on board her, while John +Saltram lay upon his back, very helpless, languishing to be astir once +more. + +During these long dreary days and nights he had contrived to send several +messages to the lady in the state-cabin, feeble pencil scrawls, imploring +her to come to him, telling her that he was very ill, at death's door +almost, and desired nothing so much as to see her, if only for a moment. +But the answer--by word of mouth of the steward or stewardess always--was +unfailingly to the same effect:--the lady in number 7 refused to hold any +communication with the sick gentleman. + +"She's a hard one!" the steward remarked to the stewardess, when they +talked the matter over in a comfortable manner during the progress of a +snug little supper in the steward's cabin, "she must be an out-and-out +hard-hearted one to stand out against him like that, if he is her +husband, and I suppose he is. I told her to-day--when I took his +message--how bad he was, and that it was a chance if he ever went ashore +alive; but she was walking up and down deck with her father ten minutes +afterwards, laughing and talking like anything. I suppose he's been a bad +lot, Mrs. Peterson, and deserves no better from her; but still it does +seem hard to see him lying there, and his wife so near him, and yet +refusing to go and see him." + +"I've no common patience with her," said the stewardess with acrimony; +"the cold-hearted creature!--flaunting about like that, with a sick +husband within a stone's throw of her. Suppose he is to blame, Mr. +Martin; whatever his faults may have been, it isn't the time for a wife +to remember them." + +To this Mr. Martin responded dubiously, remarking that there were some +carryings on upon the part of husbands which it was difficult for a wife +not to remember. + +The good ship sped on, unhindered by adverse winds or foul weather, and +was within twenty-four hours of her destination when John Saltram was at +last able to crawl out of the cabin, where he had lain for some eight or +nine days crippled and helpless. + +The first purpose which he set himself to accomplish was an interview +with Marian's father. He wanted to grapple his enemy somehow--to +ascertain the nature of the game that was being played against him. He +had kept himself very quiet for this purpose, wishing to take Percival +Nowell by surprise; and on this last day but one of the voyage, when he +was able for the first time to rise from his berth, no one but the +steward and the surgeon knew that he intended so to rise. + +He had taken the steward in some measure into his confidence; and that +official, after helping him to dress, left him seated in the cabin, while +he went to ascertain the whereabouts of Mr. Nowell. Mr. Martin, the +steward, came back after about five minutes. + +"He's in the saloon, sir, reading, quite alone. You couldn't have a +better opportunity of speaking to him." + +"That's a good fellow. Then I'll go at once." + +"You'd better take my arm, sir; you're as weak as a baby, and the ship +lurches a good deal to-day." + +"I'm not very strong, certainly. I begin to think I never shall be strong +again. Do you know, Martin, I was once stroke in a university eight. Not +much vigour in my biceps now, eh?" + +It was only a few paces from one cabin to the other; but Mr. Saltram +could scarcely have gone so far without the steward's supporting arm. He +was a feeble-looking figure, with a white wan face, as he tottered along +the narrow passage between the tables, making his way to that end of the +saloon where Percival Nowell lounged luxuriously, with his legs stretched +at full length upon the sofa, and a book in his hand. + +"Mr. Nowell, I believe," said the sick man, as the other looked up at +him with consummate coolness. Whatever his feelings might be with regard +to his daughter's husband, he had had ample time to prepare himself for +an encounter with him. + +"Yes, my name is Nowell. But I have really not the honour to----" + +"You do not know me," answered John Saltram. "No, but it is time you did +so. I am your daughter's husband, John Holbrook." + +"Indeed. I have heard that she has been persecuted by the messages of +some person calling himself her husband. You are that person, I presume." + +"I have tried to persuade my wife to see me. Yes; and I mean to see her +before this vessel arrives in port." + +"But if the lady in question refuses to have anything to say to you?" + +"We shall soon put that to the test. I have been too ill to stir ever +since I came on board, or you would have heard of me before this, Mr. +Nowell. Now that I can move about once more, I shall find a way to assert +my claims, you may be sure. But in the first place, I want to know by +what right you stole my wife away from her home--by what right you +brought her on this voyage?" + +"Before I answer that question, Mr.--Mr. Holbrook, as you choose to call +yourself, I'll ask you another. By what right do you call yourself my +daughter's husband? what evidence have you to produce to prove that you +are not a bare-faced impostor? You don't carry your marriage-certificate +about with you, I daresay; and in the absence of some kind of documentary +evidence, what is to convince me that you are what you pretend to be--my +daughter's husband?" + +"The evidence of your daughter's own senses. Place me face to face with +her; she will not deny my identity." + +"But how, if my daughter declines to see you, as she does most +positively? She has suffered enough at your hands, and is only too glad +to be released from you." + +"She has suffered--she is glad to be released! Why, you most consummate +scoundrel!" cried John Saltram, "there never was an unkind word spoken +between my wife and me! She was the best, most devoted of women; and +nothing but the vilest treachery could have separated us. I know not what +villanous slander you have made her believe, or by what means you lured +her away from me; but I know that a few words between us would let in the +light upon your plot. You had better make the best of a bad position, Mr. +Nowell. As my wife's father, you know, you are pretty sure to escape. +Whatever my inclination might be, my regard for her would make me +indulgent to you. You'll find candour avail you best in this case, +depend upon it. Your daughter has inherited a fortune, and you want to +put your hand upon it altogether. It would be wiser to moderate your +desires, and be content with a fair share of the inheritance. Your +daughter is not the woman to treat you ungenerously, nor am I the man to +create any hindrance to her generosity." + +"I can make no bargain with you, sir," replied Mr. Nowell, with the same +cool audacity of manner that had distinguished him throughout the +interview; "nor am I prepared to admit your claim to the position you +assume. But if my daughter is your wife, she left you of her own free +will, under no coercion of mine; and she must return to you in the same +manner, or you must put the machinery of the law in force to compel her. +And _that_, I flatter myself, in a free country like America, will be +rather a difficult business." + +It was hard for John Saltram to hear any man talk like this, and not be +able to knock him down. But in his present condition Marian's husband +could not have grappled a child, and he knew it. + +"You are an outrageous scoundrel!" he said between his set teeth, +tortured by that most ardent desire to dash his clenched fist into Mr. +Nowell's handsome dissolute-looking face. "You are a most consummate +villain, and you know it!" + +"Hard words mean so little," returned Mr. Nowell coolly, "and go for so +little. That kind of language before witnesses would be actionable; but, +upon my word, it would be mere child's play on my part to notice it, +especially to a man in your condition. You'd better claim your wife from +the captain, and see what he will say to you. I have told him that +there's some semi-lunatic on board, who pretends to be Mrs. Holbrook's +husband; so he'll be quite prepared to hear your statement." + +John Saltram left the saloon in silence. It was worse than useless +talking to this man, who presumed upon his helpless state, and openly +defied him. His next effort must be to see Marian. + +This he found impossible, for the time being at any rate. The state-room +number 7 was an apartment a little bigger than a rabbit-hutch, opening +out of a larger cabin, and in that cabin there reposed a ponderous matron +who had suffered from sea-sickness throughout the voyage, and who could +in no wise permit a masculine intruder to invade the scene of her +retirement. + +The idea of any blockade of Marian's door was therefore futile. He must +needs wait as patiently as he might, till she appeared of her own free +will. He could not have to wait very long; something less than a day and +a night, the steward had told him, would bring them to the end of the +voyage. + +Mr. Saltram went on deck, still assisted by the friendly steward, and +seated himself in a sheltered corner of the vessel, hoping that the +sea-breeze might bring him back some remnant of his lost strength. The +ship's surgeon had advised him to get a little fresh air as soon as he +felt himself able to bear it; so he sat in his obscure nook, very +helpless and very feeble, meditating upon what he should do when the +final moment came and he had to claim his wife. + +He had no idea of making his wrongs known to the captain, unless as a +last desperate resource. He could not bring himself to make Marian the +subject of a vulgar squabble. No, it was to herself alone he would +appeal; it was in the natural instinct of her own heart that he would +trust. + +Very long and weary seemed the remaining hours of that joyless voyage. +Mr. Saltram was fain to go back to his cabin after an hour on deck, there +to lie and await the morrow. He had need to husband his strength for the +coming encounter. The steward told him in the evening that Mrs. Holbrook +had not dined in the saloon that day, as usual. She had kept her cabin +closely, and complained of illness. + +The morning dawned at last, after what had seemed an endless night to +John Saltram, lying awake in his narrow berth--a bleak blusterous +morning, with the cold gray light staring in at the port-hole, like an +unfriendly face. There was no promise in such a daybreak; it was only +light, and nothing more. + +Mr. Saltram, having duly deliberated the matter during the long hours of +that weary night, had decided that his wisest course was to lie _perdu_ +until the last moment, the very moment of landing, and then to come +boldly forward and make his claim. It was useless to waste his strength +in any futile endeavour to baffle so hardy a scoundrel as Percival +Nowell. At the last, when Marian was leaving the ship, it would be time +for him to assert his right as her husband, and to defy the wretch who +had beguiled her away from him. + +Having once arrived at this decision, he was able to await the issue of +events with some degree of tranquility. He had no doubt, even now, of his +wife's affection for him, no fear as to the ultimate triumph of her love +over all the lies and artifices of that scheming scoundrel, her father. + +It was nearly three o'clock in the afternoon when the steward came to +tell him that they were on the point of arriving at their destination. +The wharf where they were to land was within sight. The man had promised +to give him due warning of this event, and John Saltram had therefore +contrived to keep himself quiet amidst all the feverish impatience and +confusion of mind prevailing amongst the other passengers. He was +rewarded for his prudence; for when he rose to go on deck, he found +himself stronger than he had felt yet. He went up the companion-ladder, +took his place close to the spot at which the passengers must all leave +the vessel, and waited. + +New York was very near. The day had been cold and showery, but the sun +was shining now, and the whole scene looked bright and gay. Every one +seemed in high spirits, as if the new world they were about to touch +contained for them a certainty of Elysium. It was such a delicious relief +to arrive at the great lively Yankee city, after the tedium of a +ten-day's voyage, pleasant and easy as the transit had been. + +John Saltram looked eagerly among the faces of the crowd, but neither +Percival Nowell nor his daughter were to be seen amongst them. Presently +the vessel touched the wharf, and the travellers began to move towards +the gangway. He watched them, one by one, breathlessly. At the very last, +Mr. Nowell stepped quickly forward, with a veiled figure on his arm. + +She was closely veiled, her face quite hidden by thick black lace, and +she was clinging with something of a frightened air to her companion's +arm. + +John Saltram sprang up from his post of observation, and confronted the +two before they could leave the vessel. + +"Marian," he said, in slow decided tone, "let go that man's arm. You will +leave this vessel with me, and with no one else." + +"Stand out of the way, fellow," cried Percival Nowell; "my daughter can +have nothing to say to you." + +"Marian, for God's sake, obey me! There is the vilest treachery in this +man's conduct. Let go his arm. My love, my darling, come with me!" + +There was a passionate appeal in his tone, but it produced no answer. + +"Marian!" he cried, still interposing himself between these two and the +passage to the landing wharf. "Marian, I will have some answer!" + +"You have had your answer, sir," said Percival Nowell, trying to push him +aside. "This lady does not know you. Do you want to make a scene, and +render yourself ridiculous to every one here? There are plenty of lunatic +asylums in New York that will accommodate you, if you are determined to +make yourself eligible for them." + +"Marian!" repeated John Saltram, without vouchsafing the faintest notice +of this speech. "Marian, speak to me!" + +And then, as there came no answer from that shrinking clinging figure, +with a sudden spring forward, that brought him quite close to her, John +Saltram tore the veil away from the hidden face. + +"This must be some impostor," he said; "this is not my wife." + +He was right. The creature clinging to Percival Nowell's arm was a pretty +woman enough, with rather red hair, and a common face. She was about +Marian's height; and that was the only likeness between them. + +The spectators of this brief fracas crowded round the actors in it, +seeing nothing but the insult offered to a lady, and highly indignant +with John Saltram; and amidst their murmurs Percival Nowell pushed his +way to the shore, with the woman still clinging to his arm. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + +THE PLEASURES OF WYNCOMB. + + +That shrill anguish-stricken cry which Ellen Whitelaw had heard on the +night of the stranger's visit to Wyncomb Farm haunted her afterwards with +a wearisome persistence. She could not forget that wild unearthly sound; +she could not help continually trying to find some solution for the +mystery, until her brain was tired with the perpetual effort. + +Ponder upon this matter as she might, she could find no reasonable +explanation of the enigma; and in spite of her common sense--a quality of +which she possessed a very fair share--she was fain to believe at last +that this grim bare-looking old house was haunted, and that the agonised +shriek she and Mrs. Tadman had heard that night was only the ghostly +sound of some cry wrung from a bleeding heart in days gone by, the echo +of an anguish that had been in the far past. + +She even went so far as to ask her husband one day if he had ever heard +that the house was haunted, and whether there was any record of crime or +wrong that had been done in it in the past. Mr. Whitelaw seemed scarcely +to relish the question; but after one of his meditative pauses laughed +his wife's inquiry to scorn, and told her that there were no ghosts at +Wyncomb except the ghosts of dead rats that had ravaged the +granaries--and certainly _they_ seemed to rise from their graves in spite +of poison and traps, cats and ferrets--and that, as to anything that had +been done in the house in days gone by, he had never heard tell that his +ancestors had ever done anything but eat and drink and sleep, and save +money from year's end to year's end; and a hard time they'd had of it to +pay their way and put something by, in the face of all the difficulties +that surround the path of a farmer. + +If Ellen Whitelaw's life had been as the lives of happier women, full of +small daily cares and all-engrossing domestic interests, the memory of +that unearthly scream would no doubt have faded out of her mind ere long, +instead of remaining, as it did, a source of constant perplexity to her. +But there was no interest, no single charm in her life. There was nothing +in the world left for her to care for. The fertile flats around Wyncomb +Farmhouse bounded her universe. Day by day she rose to perform the same +monotonous duties, sustained by no lofty aim, cheered by neither +friendship nor affection; for she could not teach herself to feel +anything warmer than toleration for her daily companion, Mrs. +Tadman--only working laboriously because existence was more endurable to +her when she was busy than when she was idle. It was scarcely strange, +then, that she brooded upon the memory of that night when the nameless +stranger had come to Wyncomb, and that she tried to put the fact of his +coming and that other incident of the cry together, and to make something +out of the two events by that means; but put them together as she might, +she was no nearer any solution of the mystery. That her husband and the +stranger could have failed to hear that piercing shriek seemed almost +impossible: yet both had denied hearing it. The story of the stranger +having knocked his shin and cried out on doing so, appeared like a feeble +attempt to account for that wild cry. Vain and hopeless were all her +endeavours to arrive at any reasonable explanation, and her attempts to +get anything like an opinion out of Mrs. Tadman were utterly useless. Mr. +Whitelaw's cousin was still inclined to take a gloomy view of the +stranger's visit, in spite of her kinsman's assurance that the +transaction between himself and the unknown was a profitable one. +Horse-racing--if not parting with a farm--Mrs. Tadman opined was at the +bottom of the business; and when did horse-racing ever fail to lead to +ruin sooner or later? It was only a question of time. Ellen sighed, +remembering how her father had squandered his employer's money on the +race-course, and how, for that folly of his, she had been doomed to +become Stephen Whitelaw's wife. But there did not seem to her to be +anything of the horsey element in her husband's composition. He was never +away from home, except to attend to his business at market; and she had +never seen him spelling over the sporting-papers, as her father had been +wont to do, night after night, with a perplexed brow and an anxious face, +making calculations upon the margin of the print every now and then with +a stump of lead pencil, and chewing the end of it meditatively in the +intervals of his lection. + +Although Mrs. Whitelaw did not, like Mrs. Tadman, associate the idea of +the stranger's visit with any apprehension of her husband's impending +ruin, she could not deny that some kind of change had arisen in him since +that event. He had always drunk a good deal, in his slow quiet manner, +which impressed people unacquainted with his habits with a notion of his +sobriety, even when he was steadily emptying the bottle before him; but +he drank more now, and sat longer over his drink, and there was an aspect +of trouble and uneasiness about him at times which fairly puzzled his +wife. Of course the most natural solution for all this was the one +offered by the dismally prophetic Tadman. Stephen Whitelaw had been +speculating or gambling, and his affairs were in disorder. He was not a +man to be affected by anything but the most sordid considerations, one +would suppose. Say that he had lost money, and there you had a key to the +whole. + +He got into a habit of sitting up at night, after the rest of the +household had gone to bed. He had done this more or less from the time of +his marriage; and Mrs. Tadman had told Ellen that the habit was one which +had arisen within the last few months. + +"He would always see to the fastenings of the house with his own eyes," +Mrs. Tadman said; "but up to last autumn he used to go upstairs with me +and the servants. It's a new thing for him to sit up drinking his glass +of grog in the parlour by himself." + +The new habit seemed to grow upon Mr. Whitelaw more rapidly after that +visit of the stranger's. He took to sitting up till midnight--an awful +hour in a farm-house; and Ellen generally found the spirit-bottle empty +in the morning. Night after night, he went to bed soddened with drink. +Once, when his kinswoman made some feeble remonstrance with him about +this change in his habits, he told her savagely to hold her tongue--he +could afford to drink as much as he pleased--he wasn't likely to come +upon _her_ to pay for what he took. As for his wife, she unhappily cared +nothing what he did. He could not become more obnoxious to her than he +had been from the first hour of her acquaintance with him, let him do +what he would. + +Little by little, finding no other explanation possible, Mrs. Whitelaw +grew to believe quite firmly in the supernatural nature of that +unforgotten cry. She remembered the unexplainable footstep which she had +heard in the padlocked room in the early dusk of that new-year's-day, +when Mrs. Tadman and she explored the old house; and she associated these +two sounds in her mind as of a like ghostly character. From this time +forward she shrank with a nervous terror from that darksome passage +leading to the padlocked door at the end of the house. She had never any +occasion to go in this direction. The rooms in this wing were low, dark, +and small, and had been unused for years. It was scarcely any wonder if +rats had congregated behind the worm-eaten wainscot, to scare nervous +listeners with their weird scratchings and scramblings. But no one could +convince Ellen Whitelaw that the sounds she had heard on new-year's-day +were produced by anything so earthly as a rat. With that willingness to +believe in a romantic impossibility, rather than in a commonplace +improbability so natural to the human mind, she was more ready to +conceive the existence of a ghost than that her own sense of hearing +might have been less powerful than her fancy. About the footsteps she +was quite as positive as she was about the scream; and in the last +instance she had the evidence of Mrs. Tadman's senses to support her. + +She was surprised to find one day, when the household drudge, Martha +Holden, had been cleaning the passage and rooms in that deserted wing--a +task very seldom performed--that the girl had the same aversion to that +part of the house which she felt herself, but of which she had never +spoken in the presence of the servants. + +"If it wasn't for Mrs. Tadman driving and worrying after me all the time +I'm at work, I don't think I could stay there, mum," Martha told her +mistress. "It isn't often I like to be fidgetted and followed; but +anything's better than being alone in that unked place." + +"It's rather dark and dreary, certainly, Martha," Ellen answered with an +admirable assumption of indifference; "but, as we haven't any of us got +to live there, that doesn't much matter." + +"It isn't that, mum. I wouldn't mind the darkness and the dreariness--and +I'm sure such a place for spiders I never did see in my life; there was +one as I took down with my broom to-day, and scrunched, as big as a small +crab--but it's worse than that: the place is haunted." + +"Who told you that?" + +"Sarah Batts." + +"Sarah Batts! Why, how should she know anything about it? She hasn't been +here so long as you; and she came straight from the workhouse." + +"I think master must have told her, mum." + +"Your master would never have said anything so foolish. I know that _he_ +doesn't believe in ghosts; and he keeps all his garden-seeds in the +locked room at the end of the passage; so he must go there sometimes +himself." + +"O yes, mum; I know that master goes there. I've seen him go that way at +night with a candle." + +"Well, you silly girl, he wouldn't use the room if he thought it was +haunted, would he? There are plenty more empty rooms in the house." + +"I don't know about that, I'm sure, mum; but anyhow I know Sarah Batts +told me that passage was haunted. 'Don't you never go there, Martha,' she +says, 'unless you want to have your blood froze. I've heard things there +that have froze mine.' And I never should go, mum, if it wasn't for +moth--Mrs. Tadman's worrying and driving, about the place being cleaned +once in a way. And Sarah Batts is right, mum, however she may have got to +know it; for I have heard things." + +"What things?" + +"Moaning and groaning like, as if it was some one in pain; but all very +low; and I never could make out where it came from. But as to the place +being haunted, I've no more doubt about it than about my catechism." + +"But, Martha, you ought to know it's very silly and wicked to believe in +such things," Ellen Whitelaw said, feeling it her duty to lecture the +girl a little, and yet half inclined to believe her. "The moanings and +groanings, as you call them, were only sounds made by the wind, I +daresay." + +"O dear no, mum," Martha answered, shaking her head in a decided manner; +"the wind never made such noises as _I_ heard. But I don't want to make +you nervous, mum; only I'd sooner lose a month's wages than stay for an +hour alone in the west wing." + +It was strange, certainly; a matter of no importance, perhaps, this idle +belief of a servant's, these sounds which harmed no one; and yet all +these circumstances worried and perplexed Ellen Whitelaw. Having so +little else to think of, she brooded upon them incessantly, and was +gradually getting into a low nervous way. If she complained, which she +did very rarely, there was no one to sympathise with her. Mrs. Tadman had +so many ailments of her own, such complicated maladies, such +deeply-rooted disorders, that she could be scarcely expected to give much +attention to the trivial sufferings of another person. + +"Ah, my dear," she would exclaim with a groan, if Ellen ventured to +complain of a racking headache, "when you've lived as long as I have, and +gone through what I've gone through, and have got such a liver as I've +got, you'll know what bad health means. But at your age, and with your +constitution, it's nothing more than fancy." + +And then Mrs. Tadman would branch off into a graphic description of her +own maladies, to which Ellen was fain to listen patiently, wondering +vaguely as she listened whether the lapse of years would render her as +wearisome a person as Mrs. Tadman. + +She had no sympathy from anyone. Her father came to Wyncomb Farm once a +week or so, and sat drinking and smoking with Mr. Whitelaw; but Ellen +never saw him alone. He seemed carefully to avoid the chance of being +alone with her, guiltily conscious of his part in the contriving of her +marriage, and fearing to hear some complaint about her lot. He pretended +to take it for granted that her fate was entirely happy, congratulated +her frequently upon her prosperity, and reminded her continually that it +was a fine thing to be the sole mistress of the house she lived in, +instead of a mere servant--as he himself was, and as she had been at the +Grange--labouring for the profit of other people. + +Up to this time Mr. Carley had had some reason to be disappointed with +the result of his daughter's marriage, so far as his own prosperity was +affected thereby. Not a sixpence beyond that one advance of the two +hundred pounds had the bailiff been able to extort from his son-in-law. +It was the price that Mr. Whitelaw had paid for his wife, and he meant to +pay no more. He told William Carley as much one day when the question of +money matters was pushed rather too far--told him in the plainest +language. + +This was hard; but that two hundred pounds had saved the bailiff from +imminent destruction. He was obliged to be satisfied with this advantage, +and to bide his time. + +"I'll have it out of the mean hound sooner or later," he muttered to +himself as he walked homewards, after a social evening with the master of +Wyncomb. + +One evening Mr. Carley brought his daughter a letter. It was from Gilbert +Fenton, who was quite unaware of Ellen's marriage, and had written to her +at the Grange. This letter afforded her the only pleasure she had known +since fate had united her to Stephen Whitelaw. It told her that Marian +Holbrook was living, and in all probability safe--though by no means in +good hands. She had sailed for America with her father; but her husband +was in hot pursuit of her, and her husband was faithful. + +"I have schooled myself to forgive him," Gilbert went on to say, "for I +know that he loves her--and that must needs condone my wrongs. I look +forward anxiously to their return from America, and hope for a happy +reunion amongst us all--when your warm friendship shall not be forgotten. +I am waiting impatiently for news from New York, and will write to you +again directly I hear anything definite. We have suffered the torments of +suspense for a long weary time, but I trust and believe that the sky is +clearing." + +This was not much, but it was more than enough to relieve Ellen Carley's +mind of a heavy load. Her dear young lady, as she called Marian, was not +dead--not lying at the bottom of that cruel river, at which Ellen had +often looked with a shuddering horror, of late, thinking of what might +be. She was safe, and would no doubt be happy. This was something. Amid +the wreck of her own fortunes, Ellen Whitelaw was unselfish enough to +rejoice in this. + +Her husband asked to see Mr. Fenton's letter, which he spelt over with +his usual deliberate air, and which seemed to interest him more than +Ellen would have supposed likely--knowing as she did how deeply he had +resented Marian's encouragement of Frank Randall's courtship. + +"So she's gone to America with her father, has she?" he said, when he had +perused the document twice. "I shouldn't have thought anybody could have +persuaded her to leave that precious husband of hers. And she's gone off +to America, and he after her! That's rather a queer start, ain't it, +Nell?" Mrs. Whitelaw did not care to discuss the business with her +husband. There was something in his tone, a kind of veiled malice, which +made her angry. + +"I don't suppose you care whether she's alive or dead," she said +impatiently; "so you needn't trouble yourself to talk about her." + +"Needn't I? O, she's too grand a person to be talked of by such as me, is +she? Never mind, Nell; don't be cross. And when Mrs. Holbrook comes back +to England, you shall go and see her." + +"I will," answered Ellen; "if I have to walk to London to do it." + +"O, but you sha'n't walk. You shall go by rail. I'll spare you the money +for that, for once in a way, though I'm not over fond of wasting money." + +Day by day Mr. Whitelaw's habits grew more secluded and morose. It is not +to be supposed that he was troubled by those finer feelings which might +have made the misery of a better man; but even in his dull nature there +may have been some dim sense that his marriage was a failure and mistake; +that in having his own way in this matter he had in nowise secured his +own happiness. He could not complain of his wife's conduct in any one +respect. She was obedient to his will in all things, providing for his +comfort with scrupulous regularity, industrious, indefatigable even. As a +housekeeper and partner of his fortunes, no man could have desired a +better wife. Yet dimly, in that sluggish soul, there was the +consciousness that he had married a woman who hated him, that he had +bought her with a price; and, being a man prone to think the worst of his +fellow-creatures, Mr. Whitelaw believed that, sooner or later, his wife +meant to have her revenge upon him somehow. She was waiting for his death +perhaps; calculating that, being so much her senior, and a hard-working +man, he would die soon enough to leave her a young widow. And then, of +course, she would marry Frank Randall; and all the money which he, +Stephen, had amassed, by the sacrifice of every pleasure in life, would +enrich that supercilious young coxcomb. + +It was a hard thing to think of, and Stephen pondered upon the expediency +of letting off Wyncomb Farm, and sinking all his savings in the purchase +of an annuity. He could not bring himself to contemplate selling the +house and lands that had belonged to his race for so many generations. He +clung to the estate, not from any romantic reverence for the past, not +from any sentimental associations connected with those who had gone +before him, but from the mere force of habit, which rendered this grim +ugly old house and these flat shelterless fields dearer to him than all +the rest of the universe. He was a man to whom to part with anything was +agony; and if he loved anything in the world, he loved Wyncomb. The +possession of the place had given him importance for twenty years past. +He could not fancy himself unconnected with Wyncomb. His labours had +improved the estate too; and he could not endure to think how some lucky +purchaser might profit by his prudence and sagacity. There had been some +fine old oaks on the land when he inherited it, all mercilessly +stubbed-up at the beginning of his reign; there had been tall straggling +hedgerows, all of a tangle with blackberry bushes, ferns, and dog-roses, +hazel and sloe trees, all done away with by his order. No, he could never +bring himself to sell Wyncomb. Nor was the purchase of an annuity a +transaction which he was inclined to accomplish. It was a pleasing notion +certainly, that idea of concentrating all his hoarded money upon the +remaining years of his life--retiring from the toils of agriculture, and +giving himself up for the rest of his days to an existence of luxurious +idleness. But, on the other hand, it would be a bitter thing to surrender +his fondly-loved money for the poor return of an income, to deprive +himself of all opportunity of speculating and increasing his store. + +So the annuity scheme lay dormant in his brain, as it were, for the time +being. It was something to have in reserve, and to carry out any day that +his wife gave him fair cause to doubt her fidelity. + +In the mean time he went on living his lonely sulky kind of life, +drinking a great deal more than was good for him in his own churlish +manner, and laughing to scorn any attempt at remonstrance from his wife +or Mrs. Tadman. Some few times Ellen had endeavoured to awaken him to the +evil consequences that must needs ensue from his intemperate habits, +feeling that it would be a sin on her part to suffer him to go on without +some effort to check him; but her gently-spoken warnings had been worse +than useless. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + +MR. WHITELAW MAKES AN END OF THE MYSTERY. + + +Mrs. Whitelaw had been married about two months. It was bright May +weather, bright but not yet warm; and whatever prettiness Wyncomb Farm +was capable of assuming had been put on with the fresh spring green of +the fields and the young leaves of the poplars. There were even a few +hardy flowers in the vegetable-garden behind the house, humble perennials +planted by dead and gone Whitelaws, which had bloomed year after year in +spite of Stephen's utilitarian principles. It was a market-day, the +household work was finished, and Ellen was sitting with Mrs. Tadman in +the parlour, where those two spent so many weary hours of their lives, +the tedium whereof was relieved only by woman's homely resource, +needlework. Even if Mrs. Whitelaw had been fond of reading, and she only +cared moderately for that form of occupation, she could hardly have found +intellectual diversion of that kind at Wyncomb, where a family Bible, a +few volumes of the _Annual Register_, which had belonged to some +half-dozen different owners before they came from a stall in Malsham +market to the house of Whitelaw, a grim-looking old quarto upon domestic +medicine, and a cookery-book, formed the entire library. When the duties +of the day were done, and the local weekly newspaper had been read--an +intellectual refreshment which might be fairly exhausted in ten +minutes--there remained nothing to beguile the hours but the perpetual +stitch--stitch--stitch of an industriously-disposed sempstress; and the +two women used to sit throughout the long afternoons with their +work-baskets before them, talking a little now and then of the most +commonplace matters, but for the greater part of their time silent. +Sometimes, when the heavy burden of Mrs. Tadman's society, and the +clicking of needles and snipping of scissors, grew almost unendurable, +Ellen would run out of the house for a brief airing in the garden, and +walk briskly to and fro along the narrow pathway between the potatoes and +cabbages, thinking of her dismal life, and of the old days at the Grange +when she had been full of gaiety and hope. There was not perhaps much +outward difference in the two lives. In her father's house she had worked +as hard as she worked now; but she had been free in those days, and the +unknown future all before her, with its chances of happiness. Now, she +felt like some captive who paces the narrow bounds of his prison-yard, +without hope of release or respite, except in death. + +This particular spring day had begun brightly, the morning had been sunny +and even warm; but now, as the afternoon wore away, there were dark +clouds, with a rising wind and a sharp gusty shower every now and then. +Ellen took a solitary turn in the garden between the showers. It was +market-day; Stephen Whitelaw was not expected home till tea-time, and the +meal was to be eaten at a later hour than usual. + +The rain increased as the time for the farmer's return drew nearer. He +had gone out in the morning without his overcoat, Mrs. Tadman remembered, +and was likely to get wet through on his way home, unless he should have +borrowed some extra covering at Malsham. His temper, which of late had +been generally at its worst, would hardly be improved by this annoyance. + +There was a very substantial meal waiting for him: a ponderous joint of +cold roast beef, a dish of ham and eggs preparing in the kitchen, with an +agreeable frizzling sound, a pile of hot buttered cakes kept hot upon the +oven top; but there was no fire in the parlour, and the room looked a +little cheerless in spite of the well-spread table. They had discontinued +fires for about a fortnight, at Mr. Whitelaw's command. He didn't want to +be ruined by his coal-merchant's bill if it was a chilly spring, he told +his household; and at his own bidding the fire-place had been polished +and garnished for the summer. But this evening was colder than any +evening lately, by reason of that blusterous rising wind, which blew the +rain-drops against the window-panes with as sharp a rattle as if they had +been hailstones; and Mr. Whitelaw coming in presently, disconsolate and +dripping, was by no means inclined to abide by his own decision about the +fires. + +"Why the ---- haven't you got a fire here?" he demanded savagely. + +"It was your own wish, Stephen," answered Mrs. Tadman. + +"My own fiddlesticks! Of course I didn't care to see my wood and coals +burning to waste when the sun was shining enough to melt any one. But +when a man comes home wet to the skin, he doesn't want to come into a +room like an ice-house. Call the girl, and tell her to light a blazing +fire while I go and change my clothes. Let her bring plenty of wood, and +put a couple of logs on top of the coals. I'm frozen to the very bones +driving home in the rain." + +Mrs. Tadman gave a plaintive sigh as she departed to obey her kinsman. + +"That's just like Stephen," she said; "if it was you or me that wanted a +fire, we might die of cold before we got leave to light one; but he never +grudges anything for his own comfort!" + +Martha came and lighted a fire under Mrs. Tadman's direction. That lady +was inclined to look somewhat uneasily upon the operation; for the grate +had been used constantly throughout a long winter, and the chimney had +not been swept since last spring, whereby Mrs. Tadman was conscious of a +great accumulation of soot about the massive old brickwork and ponderous +beams that spanned the wide chimney. She had sent for the Malsham sweep +some weeks ago; but that necessary individual had not been able to come +on the particular day she wished, and the matter had been since then +neglected. She remembered this now with a guilty feeling, more especially +as Stephen had demanded a blazing fire, with flaring pine-logs piled +half-way up the chimney. He came back to the parlour presently, arrayed +in an old suit of clothes which he kept for such occasions--an old green +coat with basket buttons, and a pair of plaid trousers of an exploded +shape and pattern--and looking more like a pinched and pallid scarecrow +than a well-to-do farmer. Mrs. Tadman had only carried out his commands +in a modified degree, and he immediately ordered the servant to put a +couple of logs on the fire, and then drew the table close up to the +hearth, and sat down to his tea with some appearance of satisfaction. He +had had rather a good day at market, he condescended to tell his wife +during the progress of the meal; prices were rising, his old hay was +selling at a rate which promised well for the new crops, turnips were in +brisk demand, mangold enquired for--altogether Mr. Whitelaw confessed +himself very well satisfied with the aspect of affairs. + +After tea he spent his evening luxuriantly, sitting close to the fire, +with his slippered feet upon the fender, and drinking hot rum-and-water +as a preventive of impending, or cure of incipient, cold. The +rum-and-water being a novelty, something out of the usual order of his +drink, appeared to have an enlivening effect upon him. He talked more +than usual, and even proposed a game at cribbage with Mrs. Tadman; a +condescension which moved that matron to tears, reminding her, she said, +of old times, when they had been so comfortable together, before he had +taken to spend his evenings at the Grange. + +"Not that I mean any unkindness to you, Ellen," the doleful Tadman added +apologetically, "for you've been a good friend to me, and if there's one +merit I can lay claim to, it's a grateful heart; but of course, when a +man marries, he never is the same to his relations as when he was single. +It isn't in human nature that he should be." + +Here Mrs. Tadman's amiable kinsman requested her to hold her jaw, and to +bring the board if she was going to play, or to say as much if she +wasn't. Urged by this gentle reminder, Mrs. Tadman immediately produced a +somewhat dingy-looking pack of cards and a queer little old-fashioned +cribbage-board. + +The game lasted for about an hour or so, at the end of which time the +farmer threw himself back in his chair with a yawn, and pronounced that +he had had enough of it. The old eight-day clock in the lobby struck ten +soon after this, and the two women rose to retire, leaving Stephen to his +night's libations, and not sorry to escape out of the room, which he had +converted into a kind of oven or Turkish bath by means of the roaring +fire he had insisted upon keeping up all the evening. He was left, +therefore, with his bottle of rum about half emptied, to finish his +night's entertainment after his own fashion. + +Mrs. Tadman ventured a mild warning about the fire when she wished him +good night; but as she did not dare to hint that there had been any +neglect in the chimney-sweeping, her counsel went for very little. Mr. +Whitelaw threw on another pine-log directly the two women had left him, +and addressed himself to the consumption of a fresh glass of +rum-and-water. + +"There's nothing like being on the safe side," he muttered to himself +with an air of profound wisdom. "I don't want to be laid up with the +rheumatics, if I can help it." + +He finished the contents of his glass, and went softly out of the room, +carrying a candle with him. He was absent about ten minutes, and then +came back to resume his comfortable seat by the fire, and mixed himself +another glass of grog with the air of a man who was likely to finish the +bottle. + +While he sat drinking in his slow sensual way, his young wife slept +peacefully enough in one of the rooms above him. Early rising and +industrious habits will bring sleep, even when the heart is hopeless and +the mind is weary. Mrs. Whitelaw slept a tranquil dreamless sleep +to-night, while Mrs. Tadman snored with a healthy regularity in a room on +the opposite side of the passage. + +There was a faint glimmer of dawn in the sky, a cold wet dawn, when Ellen +was awakened suddenly by a sound that bewildered and alarmed her. It was +almost like the report of a pistol, she thought, as she sprang out of +bed, pale and trembling. It was not a pistol shot, however, only a +handful of gravel thrown sharply against her window. + +"Stephen," she cried, half awake and very much, frightened, "what was +that?" But, to her surprise, she found that her husband was not in the +room. + +While she sat on the edge of her bed hurrying some of her clothes on, +half mechanically, and wondering what that startling sound could have +been, a sudden glow of red light shone in at her window, and at the same +moment her senses, which had been only half awakened before, told her +that there was an atmosphere of smoke in the room. + +She rushed to the door, forgetting that to open it was perhaps to admit +death, and flung it open. Yes, the passage was full of smoke, and there +was a strange crackling sound below. + +There could be little doubt as to what had happened--the house was on +fire. She remembered how repeatedly Mrs. Tadman had declared that Stephen +would inevitably set the place on fire some night or other, and how +little weight she had attached to the dismal prophecy. But the matron's +fears had not been groundless, it seemed. The threatened calamity had +come. + +"Stephen!" she cried, with all her might, and then flew to Mrs. Tadman's +door and knocked violently. She waited for no answer, but rushed on to +the room where the two women-servants slept together, and called to them +loudly to get up for their lives, the house was on fire. + +There were still the men in the story above to be awakened, and the smoke +was every moment growing thicker. She mounted a few steps of the +staircase, and called with all her strength. It was very near their time +for stirring. They must hear her, surely. Suddenly she remembered an old +disused alarm-bell which hung in the roof. She had seen the frayed rope +belonging to it hanging in an angle of the passage. She flew to this, and +pulled it vigorously till a shrill peal rang out above; and once having +accomplished this, she went on, reckless of her own safety, thinking only +how many there were to be saved in that house. + +All this time there was no sign of her husband, and a dull horror came +over her with the thought that he might be perishing miserably below. +There could be no doubt that the fire came from downstairs. That +crackling noise had increased, and every now and then there came a sound +like the breaking of glass. The red glow shining in at the front windows +grew deeper and brighter. The fire had begun in the parlour, of course, +where they had left Stephen Whitelaw basking in the warmth of his +resinous pine-logs. + +Ellen was still ringing the bell, when she heard a man's footstep coming +along the passage towards her. It was not her husband, but one of the +farm-servants from the upper story, an honest broad-shouldered fellow, as +strong as Hercules. + +"Lord a mercy, mum, be that you?" he cried, as he recognised the white +half-dressed figure clinging to the bell-rope "let me get 'ee out o' +this; the old place'll burn like so much tinder;" and before she could +object, he had taken her up in his arms as easily as if she had been a +child, and was carrying her towards the principal staircase. + +Here they were stopped. The flames and smoke were mounting from the lobby +below; the man turned immediately, wasting no time by indecision, and ran +to the stairs leading down to the kitchen. In this direction all was +safe. There was smoke, but in a very modified degree. + +"Robert," Ellen cried eagerly, when they had reached the kitchen, where +all was quiet, "for God's sake, go and see what has become of your +master. We left him drinking in the parlour last night. I've called to +him again and again, but there's been no answer." + +"Don't you take on, mum; master's all right, I daresay. Here be the gals +and Mrs. Tadman coming downstairs; they'll take care o' you, while I go +and look arter him. You've no call to be frightened. If the fire should +come this way, you've only got to open yon door and get out into the +yard. You're safe here." + +The women were all huddled together in the kitchen by this time, half +dressed, shivering, and frightened out of their wits. Ellen Whitelaw was +the only one among them who displayed anything like calmness. + +The men were all astir. One had run across the fields to Malsham to +summon the fire-engine, another was gone to remove some animals stabled +near the house. + +The noise of burning wood was rapidly increasing, the smoke came creeping +under the kitchen-door presently, and, five minutes after he had left +them, the farm-servant came back to say that he could find no traces of +his master. The parlor was in flames. If he had been surprised by the +fire in his sleep, it must needs be all over with him. The man urged his +mistress to get out of the house at once; the fire was gaining ground +rapidly, and it was not likely that anything he or the other men could do +would stop its progress. + +The women left the kitchen immediately upon this warning, by a door +leading into the yard. It was broad daylight by this time; a chilly +sunless morning, and a high wind sweeping across the fields and fanning +the flames, which now licked the front wall of Wyncomb Farmhouse. The +total destruction of the place seemed inevitable, unless help from +Malsham came very quickly. The farm servants were running to and fro with +buckets of water from the yard, and flinging their contents in at the +shattered windows of the front rooms; but this was a small means of +checking the destruction. The house was old, built for the most part of +wood, and there seemed little hope for it. + +Ellen and the other women went round to the front of the house, and stood +there, dismal figures in their scanty raiment, with woollen petticoats +pinned across their shoulders, and disordered hair blown about their +faces by the damp wind. They stood grouped together in utter +helplessness, looking at the work of ruin with a half-stupid air; almost +like the animals who had been hustled from one place of shelter to +another, and were evidently lost in wonder as to the cause of their +removal. + +But presently, as the awful scene before them grew more familiar, the +instincts of self-interest arose in each breast. Mrs. Tadman piteously +bewailed the loss of her entire wardrobe, and some mysterious pocket-book +which she described plaintively as her "little all." She dwelt dolefully +upon the merits of each particular article, most especially upon a +French-merino dress she had bought for Stephen's wedding, which would +have lasted her a lifetime, and a Paisley shawl, the gift of her deceased +husband, which had been in her possession twenty years, and had not so +much as a thin place in it. + +Nor was the disconsolate matron the only one who lamented her losses. +Sarah Batts, with clasped hands and distracted aspect, wept for the +destruction of her "box." + +"There was money in it," she cried, "money! Oh, don't you think the men +could get to my room and save it?" + +"Money!" exclaimed Mrs. Tadman, sharply, aroused from the contemplation +of her own woes by this avowal; "you must be cleverer than I took you +for, Sarah Batts, to be able to save money, and yet be always bedizened +with some new bit of finery, as you've been." + +"It was give to me," Sarah answered indignantly, "by them as had a right +to give it." + +"For no good, I should think," replied Mrs. Tadman; "what should anybody +give you money for?" + +"Never you mind; it was mine. O dear, O dear! if one of the men would +only get my box for me." + +She ran to intercept one of the farm-labourers, armed with his bucket, +and tried to bribe him by the promise of five shillings as a reward for +the rescue of her treasures. But the man only threatened to heave the +bucket of water at her if she got in his way; and Miss Batts was obliged +to abandon this hope. + +The fire made rapid progress meanwhile, unchecked by that ineffectual +splashing of water. It had begun at the eastern end of the building, the +end most remote from those disused rooms in the ivy-covered west wing; +but the wind was blowing from the north-east, and the flames were +spreading rapidly towards that western angle. There was little chance +that any part of the house could be saved. + +While Ellen Whitelaw was looking on at the work of ruin, with a sense of +utter helplessness, hearing the selfish lamentations of Mrs. Tadman and +Sarah Batts like voices in a dream, she was suddenly aroused from this +state of torpor by a loud groan, which sounded from not very far off. It +came from behind her, from the direction of the poplars. She flew to the +spot, and on the ground beneath one of them she found a helpless figure +lying prostrate, with an awful smoke-blackened face--a figure and face +which for some moments she did not recognize as her husband's. + +She knew him at last, however, and knelt down beside him. He was groaning +in an agonized manner, and had evidently been fearfully burnt before he +made his escape. + +"Stephen!" she cried. "O, thank God you are here! I thought you were shut +up in that burning house. I called with all my might, and the men +searched for you." + +"It isn't much to be thankful for," gasped the farmer. "I don't suppose +there's an hour's life in me; I'm scorched from head to foot, and one +arm's helpless. I woke up all of a sudden, and found the room in a blaze. +The flames had burst out of the great beam that goes across the +chimney-piece. The place was all on fire, so that I couldn't reach the +door anyhow; and before I could get out of the window, I was burnt like +this. You'd have been burnt alive in your bed but for me. I threw up a +handful of gravel at your window. It must have woke you, didn't it?" + +"Yes, yes, that was the sound that woke me; it seemed like a pistol going +off. You saved my life, Stephen. It was very good of you to remember me." + +"Yes; there's men in my place who wouldn't have thought of anybody but +themselves." + +"Can I do anything to ease you, Stephen?" asked his wife. + +She had seated herself on the grass beside him, and had taken his head on +her lap, supporting him gently. She was shocked to see the change the +fire had made in his face, which was all blistered and distorted. + +"No, nothing; till they come to carry me away somewhere. I'm all one +burning pain." + +His eyes closed, and he seemed to sink into a kind of stupor. Ellen +called to one of the men. They might carry him to some place of shelter +surely, at once, where a doctor could be summoned, and something done for +his relief. There was a humble practitioner resident at Crosber, that is +to say, about two miles from Wyncomb. One of the farm-servants might take +a horse and gallop across the fields to fetch this man. + +Robert Dunn, the bailiff, heard her cries presently and came to her. He +was very much shocked by his master's condition, and at once agreed to +the necessity of summoning a surgeon. He proposed that they should carry +Stephen Whitelaw to some stables, which lay at a safe distance from the +burning house, and make up some kind of bed for him there. He ran back to +dispatch one of the men to Crosber, and returned immediately with another +to remove his master. + +But when they tried to raise the injured man between them, he cried out +to them to let him alone, they were murdering him. Let him lie where he +was; he would not be moved. So he was allowed to lie there, with his head +on his wife's lap, and his tortured body covered by a coat, which one of +the men brought him. His eyes closed again, and for some time he lay +without the slightest motion. + +The fire was gaining ground every instant, and there was yet no sign of +the engine from Malsham; but Ellen Whitelaw scarcely heeded the work of +destruction. She was thinking only of the helpless stricken creature +lying with his head upon her lap; thinking of him perhaps in this hour of +his extremity with all the more compassion, because he had always been +obnoxious to her. She prayed for the rapid arrival of the surgeon, who +must surely be able to give some relief to her husband's sufferings, she +thought. It seemed dreadful for him to be lying like this, with no +attempt made to lessen his agony. After a long interval he lifted his +scorched eyelids slowly, and looked at her with a strange dim gaze. + +"The west wing," he muttered; "is that burnt?" + +"No, Stephen, not yet; but there's little hope they'll save any part of +the house." + +"They must save that; the rest don't matter--I'm insured heavily; but +they must save the west wing." + +His wife concluded from this that he had kept some of his money in one +of those western rooms. The seed-room perhaps, that mysterious padlocked +chamber, where she had heard the footstep. And yet she had heard him say +again and again that he never kept an unnecessary shilling in the house, +and that every pound he had was out at interest. But such falsehoods and +contradictions are common enough amongst men of miserly habits; and +Stephen Whitelaw would hardly be so anxious about those western rooms +unless something of value were hidden away there. He closed his eyes +again, and lay groaning faintly for some time; then opened them suddenly +with a frightened look and asked, in the same tone, + +"The west wing--is the west wing afire yet?" + +"The wind blows that way, Stephen, and the flames are spreading. I don't +think they could save it--not if the engine was to come this minute." + +"But I tell you they must!" cried Stephen Whitelaw. "If they don't, it'll +be murder--cold-blooded murder. O, my God, I never thought there was much +harm in the business--and it paid me well--but it's weighed me down like +a load of lead, and made me drink more to drown thought. But if it should +come to this--don't you understand? Don't sit staring at me like that. If +the fire gets to the west wing, it will be murder. There's some one +there--some one locked up--that won't be able to stir unless they get her +out." + +"Some one locked up in the west wing! Are you mad, Stephen?" + +"It's the truth. I wouldn't do it again--no, not for twice the money. Let +them get her out somehow. They can do it, if they look sharp." + +That unforgotten footstep and equally unforgotten scream flashed into +Mrs. Whitelaw's mind with these words of her husband's. Some one shut up +there; yes, that was the solution of the mystery that had puzzled and +tormented her so long. That cry of anguish was no supernatural echo of +past suffering, but the despairing shriek of some victim of modern +cruelty. A poor relation of Stephen's perhaps--a helpless, mindless +creature, whose infirmities had been thus hidden from the world. Such +things have been too cruelly common in our fair free country. + +Ellen laid her husband's head gently down upon the grass and sprang to +her feet. + +"In which room?" she cried. But there was no answer. The man lay with +closed eyes--dying perhaps--but she could do nothing for him till medical +help came. The rescue of that unknown captive was a more urgent duty. + +She was running towards the burning house, when she heard a horse +galloping on the road leading from the gate. She stopped, hoping that +this was the arrival of the doctor; but a familiar voice called to her, +and in another minute her father had dismounted and was close at her +side. + +"Thank God you're safe, lass!" he exclaimed, with some warmer touch of +paternal feeling than he was accustomed to exhibit. "Our men saw the fire +when they were going to their work, and I came across directly. Where's +Steph?" + +"Under the trees yonder, very much hurt; I'm afraid fatally. But there's +nothing we can do for him till the doctor comes. There's someone in still +greater danger, father. For God's sake, help us to save her--some one +shut up yonder, in a room at that end of the house." + +"Some one shut up! One of the servants, do you mean?" + +"No, no, no. Some one who has been kept shut up there--hidden--ever so +long. Stephen told me just now. O, father, for pity's sake, try to save +her!" + +"Nonsense, lass. Your husband's brain must have been wandering. Who +should be shut up there, and you live in the house and not know it? Why +should Stephen hide any one in his house? What motive could he have for +such a thing? It isn't possible." + +"I tell you, father, it is true. There was no mistaking Stephen's words +just now, and, besides that, I've heard noises that might have told me as +much, only I thought the house was haunted. I tell you there is some +one--some one who'll be burnt alive if we're not quick--and every +moment's precious. Won't you try to save her?" + +"Of course I will. Only I don't want to risk my life for a fancy. Is +there a ladder anywhere?" + +"Yes, yes. The men have ladders." + +"And where's this room where you say the woman is shut up?" + +"At that corner of the house," answered Ellen, pointing. + +"There's a door at the end of the passage, but no window looking this +way. There's only one, and that's over the wood-yard." + +"Then it would be easiest to get in that way?" + +"No, no, father. The wood's all piled up above the window. It would take +such a time to move it." + +"Never mind that. Anything's better than the risk of going into yonder +house. Besides, the room's locked, you say. Have you got the key?" + +"No; but I could get it from Stephen, I daresay." + +"We won't wait for you to try. We'll begin at the wood-yard." + +"Take Robert Dunn with you, father. He's a good brave fellow." + +"Yes, I'll take Dunn." + +The bailiff hurried away to the wood-yard, accompanied by Dunn and +another man carrying a tall ladder. The farm-servants had ceased from +their futile efforts at quenching the fire by this time. It was a labour +too hopeless to continue. The flames had spread to the west wing. The ivy +was already crackling, as the blaze crept over it. Happily that shut-up +room was at the extreme end of the building, the point to which the +flames must come last. And here, just at the moment when the work of +devastation was almost accomplished, came the Malsham fire-engine +rattling along gaily through the dewy morning, and the Malsham amateur +fire-brigade, a very juvenile corps as yet, eager to cover itself with +laurels, but more careful in the adjustment of its costume than was quite +consistent with the desperate nature of its duty. Here came the brigade, +in time to do something at any rate, and the engine soon began to play +briskly upon the western wing. + +Ellen Whitelaw was in the wood-yard, watching the work going on there +with intense anxiety. The removal of the wood pile seemed a slow +business, well as the three men performed their work, flinging down great +crushing piles of wood one after another without a moment's pause. They +were now joined by the Malsham fire-escape men, who had got wind of some +one to be rescued from this part of the house, and were eager to exhibit +the capabilities of a new fire-escape, started with much hubbub and +glorification, after an awful fire had ravaged Malsham High-street, and +half-a-dozen lives had been wasted because the old fire-escape was out of +order and useless. + +"We don't want the fire-escape," cried Mr. Carley as the tall machine was +wheeled into the yard. "The room we want to get at isn't ten feet from +the ground. You can give us a hand with this wood if you like. That's all +we want." + +The men clambered on to the wood-pile. It was getting visibly lower by +this time, and the top of the window was to be seen. Ellen watched with +breathless anxiety, forgetting that her husband might be dying under the +poplars. He was not alone there; she had sent Mrs. Tadman to watch him. + +Only a few minutes more and the window was cleared. A pale face could be +dimly seen peering out through the dusty glass. William Carley tried to +open the lattice, but it was secured tightly within. One of the firemen +leapt forward upon his failure, and shattered every pane of glass and +every inch of the leaden frame with a couple of blows from his axe, and +then the bailiff clambered into the room. + +He was hidden from those below about five minutes, and then emerged from +the window, somehow or other, carrying a burden, and came struggling +across the wood to the ladder by which he and the rest had mounted. The +burden which he carried was a woman's figure, with the face hidden by his +large woollen neckerchief. Ellen gave a cry of horror. The woman must +surely be dead, or why should he have taken such pains to cover her face? + +He brought his burden down the ladder very carefully, and gave the +lifeless figure into Ellen's arms. + +"Help me to carry her away yonder, while Robert gets the cart ready," he +said to his daughter; "she's fainted." And then he added in a whisper, +"For God's sake, don't let any one see her face! it's Mrs. Holbrook." + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + +AFTER THE FIRE. + + +Yes, it was Marian. She whom Gilbert Fenton had sought so long and +patiently, with doubt and anguish in his heart; she whose double John +Saltram had followed across the Atlantic, had been within easy reach of +them all the time, hidden away in that dreary old farm-house, the +innocent victim of Percival Nowell's treachery, and Stephen Whitelaw's +greed of gain. The whole story was told by-and-by, when the master of +Wyncomb Farm lay dying. + +William Carley and his daughter took her to the Grange as soon as the +farmer's spring cart was ready to convey her thither. It was all done +very quickly, and none of the farm-servants saw her face. Even if they +had done so, it is more than doubtful that they would have recognised +her, so pale a shadow of her former self had she become during that long +dreary imprisonment; the face wan and wasted, with a strange sharpened +look about the features which was like the aspect of death; all the +brightness and colour vanished out of the soft brown hair; an ashen +pallor upon her beauty, that made her seem like a creature risen from the +grave. + +They lifted her into the cart, still insensible, and seated her there, +wrapped in an old horse-cloth, with her head resting on Mrs. Whitelaw's +shoulder; and so they drove slowly away. It was only when they had gone +some little distance from the farm, that the fresh morning air revived +her, and she opened her eyes and looked about her, wildly at first, and +with a faint shuddering sigh. + +Then, after a few moments, full consciousness came back to her, and a +sudden cry of rapture broke from the pale lips. "O God!" she exclaimed, +"am I set free?" + +"Yes, dear Mrs. Holbrook, you are free, never again to go back to that +cruel place. O, to think that you should be used so, and I so near!" + +Marian lifted her head from Ellen's shoulder, and recognised her with a +second cry of delight. + +"Ellen, is it you? Then I am safe; I must be safe with you." + +"Safe! yes, dear. I would die sooner than any harm should come to you +again. Who could have brought this cruelty about? who could have shut you +up in that room?" + +"My father," Marian answered with a shudder. "He wanted my money, I +suppose; and instead of killing me, he shut me up in that place." + +She said no more just then, being too weak to say much; and Ellen, who +was employed in soothing and comforting her, did not want her to talk. It +was afterwards, when she had been established in her old rooms at the +Grange, and had taken a little breakfast, that she told Ellen something +more about her captivity. + +"O, Ellen, if I were to tell you what I have suffered! But no, there are +no words can tell that. It's not that they ill-used me. The girl who +waited on me brought me good food, and even tried to make me comfortable +in her rough way; but to sit there day after day, Ellen, alone, with only +a dim light from the top of the window above the wood-stack; to sit there +wondering about my husband, whether he was searching for me still, and +would ever find me, or whether, as was more likely, he had given me up +for dead. Think of me, Ellen, if you can, sitting there for weeks and +months in my despair, trying to reckon the days sometimes by the aid of +some old newspaper which the girl brought me now and then, at other times +losing count of them altogether." + +"Dear Mrs. Holbrook, I can't understand it even yet. Tell me how it all +came about--how they ever lured you into that place." + +"It was easy enough, Ellen; I wasn't conscious when they took me there. +The story is very short. You remember that day when you left the Grange, +how happy I was, looking forward to my husband's return, and thinking of +the good news I had to tell him. We were to be rich, and our lives free +and peaceful henceforward; and I had seen him suffer so much for the want +of money. It was the morning after you left when the post brought me a +letter from my father--a letter with the Malsham post-mark. I had seen +him in town, as you know, and was scarcely surprised that he should write +to me. But I was surprised to find him so near me, and the contents of +the letter were very perplexing. My father entreated me to meet him on +the river-side pathway, between Malsham station and this house. He had +been informed of my habits, he said, and that I was accustomed to walk +there. That was curious, when, so far as I knew, he had never been near +this place; but I hardly thought about the strangeness of it then. He +begged me so earnestly to see him; it was a matter of life or death, he +said. What could I do, Nelly? He was my father, and I felt that I owed +him some duty. I could not refuse to see him; and if he had some personal +objection to coming here, it seemed a small thing for me to take the +trouble to go and meet him. I could but hear what he had to say." + +"I wish to heaven I had been here!" exclaimed Ellen; "you shouldn't have +gone alone, if I had known anything about it." + +"I think, if you had been here, I should have told you about the letter, +for it puzzled me a good deal, and I knew how well I could trust you. But +you were away; and my father's request was so urgent--the hour was +named--I could do nothing but accede to it. So I went, leaving no message +for you or for my husband, feeling so sure of my return within an hour or +two." + +"And you found your father waiting for you?" + +"Yes, on the river-bank, within a short distance of Mr. Whitelaw's house. +He began by congratulating me on the change in my prospects,--I was a +rich woman, he said. And then he went on to vilify my husband in such +hateful words, Ellen; telling me that I had married a notorious scoundrel +and profligate, and that he could produce ample evidence of what he +affirmed; and all this with a pretended pity for my weakness and +ignorance of the world. I laughed his shameful slanders to scorn, and +told him that I knew my husband too thoroughly to be alarmed even for a +moment by such groundless charges. He still affected to compassionate me +as the weakest and most credulous of women, and then came to a proposal +which he said he had travelled to Hampshire on purpose to make to me. It +was, that I should leave my husband, and place myself under his +protection; that I should go to America with him when he returned there, +and so preserve my fortune from the clutches of a villain. 'My fortune?' +I said; 'yes, I see that it is _that_ alone you are thinking of. How can +you suppose me so blind as not to understand that? You had better be +candid with me, and say frankly what you want. I have no doubt my husband +will allow me to make any reasonable sacrifice in your favour.'" + +"What did he say to that?" + +"He laughed bitterly at my offer. 'Your husband!' he said 'I am not +likely to see the colour of my father's money, if you are to be governed +by him.' 'You do him a great wrong,' I answered. 'I am sure that he will +act generously, and I shall be governed by him.'" + +"He was very angry, I suppose?" + +"No doubt of it; but for some time he contrived to suppress all +appearance of anger, and urged me to believe his statements about my +husband, and to accept his offer of a home and protection with him. I +cannot tell you how plausible his words were--what an appearance of +affection and interest in my welfare he put on. Then, finding me firm, he +changed his tone, and there were hidden threats mixed with his +entreaties. It would be a bad thing for me if I refused to go with him, +he said; I would have cause to repent my folly for the rest of my life. +He said a great deal, using every argument it is possible to imagine; and +there was always the same threatening under-tone. He could not move me in +the least, as you may fancy, Nell. I told him that nothing upon earth +would induce me to leave my husband, or to think ill of him. And in this +manner we walked up and down for nearly two hours, till I began to feel +very tired and faint. My father saw this, and when we came within sight +of Wyncomb Farmhouse, proposed that I should go in and rest, and take a +glass of milk or some kind of refreshment. I was surprised at this +proposal, and asked him if he knew the people of the house. He said yes, +he knew something of Mr. Whitelaw; he had met him the night before in the +coffee-room of the inn at Malsham." + +"Then your father had slept at Malsham the night before?" + +"Evidently. His letter to me had been posted at Malsham, you know. I +asked him how long he had been in this part of the country, and he rather +evaded the question. Not long, he said; and he had come down here only to +see me. At first I refused to go into Mr. Whitelaw's house, being only +anxious to get home as quickly as possible. But my father seemed offended +by this. I wanted to get rid of him, he said, although this was likely to +be our last interview--the very last time in his life that he would ever +see me, perhaps. I could not surely grudge him half an hour more of my +company. I could scarcely go on refusing after this; and I really felt so +tired and faint, that I doubted my capability of walking back to this +house without resting. So I said yes, and we went into Wyncomb Farmhouse. +The door was opened by a girl when my father knocked. There was no one at +home, she told him; but we were quite welcome to sit down in the parlour, +and she would bring me a glass of fresh milk and a slice of +bread-and-butter. + +"The house had a strange empty look, I thought. There was none of the +life or bustle one expects to see at a farm; all was silent as the grave. +The gloom and quietness of the place chilled me somehow. There was a fire +burning in the parlour, and my father made me sit down very close to it, +and I think the heat increased that faintness which I had felt when I +came into the house. + +"Again and again he urged his first demand, seeming as if he would wear +down all opposition by persistence. I was quite firm; but the effect of +all this argument was very wearisome, and I began to feel really ill. + +"I think I must have been on the point of fainting, when the door was +opened suddenly, and Mr. Whitelaw came in. In the next moment, while the +room was spinning round before my eyes, and that dreadful giddiness that +comes before a dead faint was growing worse, my father snatched me up in +his arms, and threw a handkerchief over my face. I had just sense enough +to know that there was chloroform upon it, and that was all. When I +opened my eyes again, I was lying on a narrow bed, in a dimly-lighted +room, with a small fire burning in a rusty grate in one corner, and some +tea-things, with a plate of cold meat, on a table near it. There was a +scrap of paper on this table, with a few lines scrawled upon it in +pencil, in my father's hand: 'You have had your choice, either to share a +prosperous life with me, or to be shut up like a mad woman. You had +better make yourself as comfortable as you can, since you have no hope of +escape till it suits my purpose to have you set free. Good care will be +taken of you. You must have been a fool to suppose that I would submit to +the injustice of J.N.'s will.' + +"For a long time I sat like some stupid bewildered creature, going over +these words again and again, as if I had no power to understand them. It +was very long before I could believe that my father meant to shut me up +in that room for an indefinite time--for the rest of my life, perhaps. +But, little by little, I came to believe this, and to feel nothing but a +blank despair. O, Nelly, I dare not dwell upon that time! I suffered too +much. God has been very merciful to me in sparing me my mind; for there +were times when I believe I was quite mad. I could pray sometimes, but +not always. I have spent whole days in prayer, almost as if I fancied +that I could weary out my God with supplications." + +"And Stephen; did you see him?" + +"Yes, now and then--once in several days, in a week perhaps. He used to +come, like the master of a madhouse visiting his patients, to see that I +was comfortable, he said. At first I used to appeal to him to set me +free--kneeling at his feet, promising any sacrifice of my fortune for him +or for my father, if they would release me. But it was no use. He was as +hard as a rock; and at last I felt that it was useless, and used to see +him come and go with hopeless apathy. No, Ellen, there are no words can +describe what I suffered. I appealed to the girl who waited on me daily, +but who came only once a-day, and always after dark. I might as well have +appealed to the four walls of my room; the girl was utterly stolid. She +brought me everything I was likely to want from day to day, and gave me +ample means of replenishing my fire, and told me that I ought to make +myself comfortable. I had a much better life than any one in the +workhouse, she said; and I must be very wicked if I complained. I believe +she really thought I was a harmless madwoman, and that her master had a +right to shut me up in that room. One night, after I had been there for a +time that seemed like eternity, my father came----" + +"What!" cried Ellen Whitelaw, "the stranger! I understand. That man was +your father; he came to see you that night; and as he was leaving you, +you gave that dreadful shriek we heard downstairs. O, if I had known the +truth--if I had only known!" + +"_You_ heard me, Ellen? You were there?" Marian exclaimed, surprised. She +was, as yet, entirely ignorant of Ellen's marriage, and had been too much +bewildered by the suddenness of her escape to wonder how the bailiff's +daughter had happened to be so near at hand in that hour of deadly peril. + +"Yes, yes, dear Mrs. Holbrook; I was there, and I did not help you. But +never mind that now; tell me the rest of your story; tell me how your +father acted that night." + +"He was with me alone for about ten minutes; he came to give me a last +chance, he said. If I liked to leave my husband for ever, and go to +America with him, I might do so; but before he let me out of that place, +he must have my solemn oath that I would make no attempt to see my +husband; that I would never again communicate with any one I had known up +to that time; that I would begin a new life, with him, my father, for my +sole protector. I had had some experience of the result of opposing him, +he said, and he now expected to find me reasonable. + +"You can imagine my answer, Ellen. I would do anything, sacrifice +anything, except my fidelity to my husband. Heaven knows I would have +given twenty years of my life to escape from that dismal place, with the +mere chance of being able to get back to my husband; but I would not take +a false oath; I could not perjure myself, as that man would have made me +perjure myself, in order to win my release. I knelt at his feet and clung +about him, beseeching him with all the power I had to set me free; but he +was harder than iron. Just at the end, when he had the door open, and was +leaving me, telling me that I had lost my last chance, and would never +see him again, I clung about him with one wild desperate cry. He flung me +back into the room violently, and shut the door in my face. I fancied +afterwards that that cry must have been heard, and that, if there had +been any creature in the house inclined to help me, there would have come +an end to my sufferings. But the time passed, and there was no change; +only the long dreary days, the wretched sleepless nights." + +This was all. There were details of her sufferings which Marian told her +faithful friend by-and-by, when her mind was calmer, and they had leisure +for tranquil talk; but the story was all told; and Marian lay down to +rest in the familiar room, unspeakably grateful to God for her rescue, +and only eager that her husband should be informed of her safety. She had +not yet been told that he had crossed the Atlantic in search of her, +deluded by a false scent. Ellen feared to tell her this at first; and she +had taken it for granted that John Saltram was still in London. It was +easy to defer any explanation just yet, on account of Marian's weakness. +The exertion of telling the brief story of her sufferings had left her +prostrate; and she was fain to obey her friendly nurse. + +"We will talk about everything, and arrange everything, by-and-by, dear +Mrs. Holbrook," Ellen said resolutely; "but for the present you _must_ +rest, and you must take everything that I bring you, and be very good." + +And with that she kissed and left her, to perform another and less +agreeable duty--the duty of attendance by her husband's sick-bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + +MR. WHITELAW MAKES HIS WILL. + + +They had carried Stephen Whitelaw to the Grange; and he lay a helpless +creature, beyond hope of recovery, in one of the roomy old-fashioned +bed-chambers. + +The humble Crosber surgeon had done his best, and had done it skilfully, +being a man of large experience amongst a lowly class of sufferers; and +to the aid of the Crosber surgeon had come a more prosperous practitioner +from Malsham, who had driven over in his own phaeton; but between them +both they could make nothing of Stephen Whitelaw. His race was run. He +had been severely burnt; and if his actual injuries were not enough to +kill him, there was little chance that he could survive the shock which +his system had received. He might linger a little; might hold out longer +than they expected; but his life was a question of hours. + +The doomed man had seemed from the first to have a conviction of the +truth, and appeared in no manner surprised when, in answer to his +questions, the Malsham doctor admitted that his case was fatal, and +suggested that, if he had anything to do in the adjustment of his +affairs, he could scarcely do it too soon. At this Mr. Whitelaw groaned +aloud. If he could in any manner have adjusted his affairs so as to take +his money with him, the suggestion might have seemed sensible enough; +but, that being impracticable, it was the merest futility. He had never +made a will; it cost him too much anguish to give away his money even on +paper. And now it was virtually necessary that he should do so, or else, +perhaps, his wealth would, by some occult process, be seized upon by the +crown--a power which he had been accustomed to regard in the abstract +with an antagonistic feeling, as being the root of queen's taxes. To +leave all to his wife, with some slight pension to Mrs. Tadman, seemed +the most obvious course. He had married for love, and the wife of his +choice had been very dutiful and submissive. What more could he have +demanded from her? and why should he grudge her the inheritance of his +wealth? Well, he would not have grudged it to her, perhaps, since some +one must have it, if it had not been for that aggravating conviction that +she would marry again, and that the man she preferred to him would riot +in the possession of his hardly-earned riches. She would marry Frank +Randall; and between them they would mismanage, and ultimately ruin, the +farm. He remembered the cost of the manure he had put upon his fields +that year, and regretted that useless outlay. It was a hard thing to have +enriched his land only that others might profit by the produce. + +"And if I've laid down a yard of drain-pipes since last year, I've laid +down a dozen mile. There's not a bit of swampy ground or a patch of sour +grass on the farm," he thought bitterly. + +He lay for some hours deliberating as to what he should do. Death was near, +but not so very close to him just yet. He had time to think. No, come what +might, he would not leave the bulk of his property to fall into the keeping +of Frank Randall. + +He remembered that there were charitable institutions, to which a man, +not wishing to enrich an ungrateful race, might bequeath his money, and +obtain some credit for himself thereby, which no man could expect from +his own relations. There was an infirmary at Malsham, rather a juvenile +institution as yet, in aid whereof Mr. Whitelaw had often been plagued +for subscriptions, reluctantly doling out half-a-guinea now and then, +more often refusing to contribute anything. He had never thought of this +place in his life before; but the image of it came into his mind now, as +he had seen it on market-days for the last four years--a bran new +red-brick building in Malsham High-street. He thought how his name would +look, cut in large letters on a stone tablet on the face of that edifice. +It would be something to get for his money; a very poor and paltry +something, compared with the delight of possession, but just a little +better than nothing. + +He lay for some time pondering upon this, with that image of the stone +tablet before his eyes, setting forth that the new wing of this +institution had been erected at the desire of the late Stephen Whitelaw, +Esq., of Wyncomb Farm, who had bequeathed a sum of money to the infirmary +for that purpose, whereby two new wards had, in memory of that respected +benefactor, been entitled the Whitelaw wards--or something to the like +effect. He composed a great many versions of the inscription as he lay +there, tolerably easy as to his bodily feelings, and chiefly anxious +concerning the disposal of the money; but, being unaccustomed to the task +of composition, he found it more difficult than he could have supposed to +set forth his own glory in a concise form of words. But the tablet would +be there, of course, the very centre and keystone of the building, as it +were; indeed, Mr. Whitelaw resolved to make his bequest contingent upon +the fulfilment of this desire. Later in the evening he told William +Carley that he had made up his mind about his will, and would be glad to +see Mr. Pivott, of Malsham, rival solicitor to Mr. Randall, of the same +town, as soon as that gentleman could be summoned to his bedside. + +The bailiff seemed surprised at this request. + +"Why, surely, Steph, you can't want a lawyer mixed up in the business!" +he said. "Those sort of chaps only live by making work for one another. +You know how to make your will well enough, old fellow, without any +attorney's aforesaids and hereinafters. Half a sheet of paper and a +couple of sentences would do it, I should think; the fewer words the +better." + +"I'd rather have Pivott, and do it in a regular manner," Mr. Whitelaw +answered quietly. "I remember, in a forgery case that was in the papers +the other day, how the judge said of the deceased testator, that, being a +lawyer, he was too wise to make his own will. Yes, I'd rather see Pivott, +if you'll send for him, Carley. It's always best to be on the safe side. +I don't want my money wasted in a chancery suit when I'm lying in my +grave." + +William Carley tried to argue the matter with his son-in-law; but the +attempt was quite useless. Mr. Whitelaw had always been the most +obstinate of men--and lying on his bed, maimed and helpless, was no more +to be moved from his resolve than if he had been a Roman gladiator who +had just trained himself for an encounter with lions. So the bailiff was +compelled to obey him, unwillingly enough, and dispatched one of the men +to Malsham in quest of Mr. Pivott the attorney. + +The practitioner came to the Grange as fast as his horse could carry him. +Every one in Malsham knew by this time that Stephen Whitelaw was a +doomed man; and Mr. Pivott felt that this was a matter of life and death. +He was an eminently respectable man, plump and dapper, with a rosy +smooth-shaven face, and an air of honesty that made the law seem quite a +pleasant thing. He was speedily seated by Mr. Whitelaw's bed, with a pair +of candles and writing materials upon a little table before him, ready to +obey his client's behests, and with the self-possessed aspect of a man to +whom a last will and testament involving the disposal of a million or so +would have been only an every-day piece of practice. + +William Carley had shown himself very civil and obliging in providing for +the lawyer's comfort, and having done so, now took up his stand by the +fire-place, evidently intending to remain as a spectator of the business. +But an uneasy glance which the patient cast from time to time in the +direction of his father-in-law convinced Mr. Pivott that he wanted that +gentleman to be got rid of before business began. + +"I think, Mr. Carley, it would be as well for our poor friend and I to be +alone," he said in his most courteous accents. + +"Fiddlesticks!" exclaimed the bailiff contemptuously. "It isn't likely +that Stephen can have any secrets from his wife's father. I'm in nobody's +way, I'm sure, and I'm not going to put my spoke in the wheel, let him +leave his money how he may." + +"Very likely not, my dear sir. Indeed, I am sure you would respect our +poor friend's wishes, even if they were to take a form unpleasing to +yourself, which is far from likely. But still it may be as well for Mr. +Whitelaw and myself to be alone. In cases of this kind the patient is apt +to be nervous, and the business is done more expeditiously if there is no +third party present. So, my dear Mr. Carley, if you have _no_ +objection----" + +"Steph," said the bailiff abruptly, "do _you_ want me out of the room? +Say the word, if you do." + +The patient writhed, hesitated, and then replied with some confusion,-- + +"If it's all the same to you, William Carley, I think I'd sooner be alone +with Mr. Pivott." + +And here the polite attorney, having opened the door with his own hands, +bowed the bailiff out; and, to his extreme mortification, William Carley +found himself on the outside of his son-in-law's room, before he had time +to make any farther remonstrance. + +He went downstairs, and paced the wainscoted parlour in a very savage +frame of mind. + +"There's some kind of devil's work hatching up there," he muttered to +himself. "Why should he want me out of the room? He wouldn't, if he was +going to leave all his money to Ellen, as he ought to leave it. Who else +is there to get it? Not that old mother Tadman, surely. She's an artful +old harridan; and if my girl had not been a fool, she'd have got rid of +her out of hand when she married. Sure to goodness _she_ can never stand +between Stephen and his wife. And who else is there? No one that I know +of; no one. Stephen wouldn't have kept any secret all these years from +the folks he's lived amongst. It isn't likely. He _must_ leave it all to +his wife, except a hundred or so, perhaps, to mother Tadman; and it was +nothing but his natural closeness that made him want me out of the way." + +And at this stage of his reflections, Mr. Carley opened a cupboard near +the fire-place and brought therefrom a case-bottle, from the contents of +which he found farther solace. It was about half-an-hour after this that +he was summoned by a call from the lawyer, who was standing on the broad +landing-place at the top of the stairs with a candle in his hand, when +the bailiff emerged from the parlour. + +"If you'll step up here, and bring one of your men with you, I shall be +obliged, Mr. Carley," the attorney said, looking over the banisters; "I +want you to witness your son-in-law's will." Mr. Carley's spirits rose a +little at this. He was not much versed in the ways of lawyers, and had a +notion that Mr. Pivott would read the will to him, perhaps, before he +signed it. It flashed upon him presently that a legatee could not benefit +by a will which he had witnessed. It was obvious, therefore, that Stephen +did not mean him to have anything. Well, he had scarcely expected +anything. If his daughter inherited all, it would be pretty much the same +thing; she would act generously of course. + +He went into the kitchen, where the head man, who had been retained on +the premises to act as special messenger in this time of need, was +sitting in the chimney-corner smoking a comfortable pipe after his walk +to and from Malsham. + +"You're wanted upstairs a minute, Joe," he said; and the two went +clumping up the wide old oaken staircase. + +The witnessing of the will was a very brief business. Mr. Pivott did not +offer to throw any light upon its contents, nor was the bailiff, +sharpsighted as he might be, able to seize upon so much as one paragraph +or line of the document during the process of attaching his signature +thereto. + +When the ceremony was concluded, Stephen Whitelaw sank back upon his +pillow with an air of satisfaction. + +"I don't think I could have done any better," he murmured. "It's a +hard thing for a man of my age to leave everything behind him; but +I don't see that I could have done better." + +"You have done that, my dear sir, which might afford comfort to any +death-bed," said the lawyer solemnly. + +He folded the will, and put it into his pocket. + +"Our friend desires me to take charge of this document," he said to +William Carley. "You will have no reason to complain, on your daughter's +account, when you become familiar with its contents. She has been fairly +treated--I may say very fairly treated." + +The bailiff did not much relish the tone of this assurance. Fair +treatment might mean very little. + +"I hope she has been well treated," he answered in a surly manner. "She's +been a good wife to Stephen Whitelaw, and would continue so to be if he +was to live twenty years longer. When a pretty young woman marries a man +twice her age, she's a right to expect handsome treatment, Mr. Pivott. It +can't be too handsome for justice, in my opinion." + +The solicitor gave a little gentle sigh. + +"As an interested party, Mr. Carley," he said, "your opinion is not as +valuable as it might be under other circumstances. However, I don't think +your daughter will complain, and I am sure the world will applaud what +our poor friend has done--of his own accord, mind, Mr. Carley, wholly and +solely of his own spontaneous desire. It is a thing that I should only +have been too proud to suggest; but the responsibility of such a +suggestion is one which I could never have taken upon myself. It would +have been out of my province, indeed. You will be kind enough to remember +this by-and-by, my dear sir." + +The bailiff was puzzled, and showed Mr. Pivott to the door with a moody +countenance. + +"I thought there was some devil's work," he muttered to himself, as he +watched the lawyer mount his stiff brown cob and ride away into the +night; "but what does it all mean? and what has Stephen Whitelaw done +with his money? We shall know that pretty soon, anyhow. He can't last +long." + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + +ELLEN REGAINS HER LIBERTY. + + +Stephen Whitelaw lingered for two days and two nights, and at the +expiration of that time departed this life, making a very decent end of +it, and troubled by no thought that his existence had been an unworthy +one. + +Before he died, he told his wife something of how he had been tempted +into the doing of that foul deed whereof Marian Saltram had been the +victim. Those two were alone together the day before he died, when +Stephen, of his own free will, made the following statement:---- + +"It was Mrs. Holbrook's father, you see," he said, in a plausible tone, +"that put it to me, how he might want his daughter taken care of for a +time--it might be a short time, or it might be rather a longish time, +according to how circumstances should work out. We'd met once before at +the King's Arms at Malsham, where Mr. Nowell was staying, and where I +went in of an evening, once in a way, after market; and he'd made pretty +free with me, and asked me a good many questions about myself, and told +me a good bit about himself, in a friendly way. He told me how his +daughter had gone against him, and was likely to go against him, and how +some property that ought in common justice to have been left to him, had +been left to her. He was going to give her a fair chance, he said, if she +liked to leave her husband, who was a scheming scoundrel, and obey him. +She might have a happy home with him, if she was reasonable. If not, he +should use his authority as a father. + +"He came to see me at Wyncomb next day--dropped in unawares like, when +mother Tadman was out of the way--not that I had asked him, you see. He +seemed to be quite taken with the place, and made me show him all over +the house; and then he took a glass of something, and sat and talked a +bit, and went away, without having said a word about his daughter. But +before he went he made me promise that I'd go and see him at the King's +Arms that night. + +"Well, you see, Nell, as he seemed to have taken a fancy to me, as you +may say, and had told me he could put me up to making more of my money, +and had altogether been uncommonly pleasant, I didn't care to say no, and +I went. I was rather taken aback at the King's Arms when they showed me +to a private room, because I'd met Mr. Nowell before in the Commercial; +however, there he was, sitting in front of a blazing fire, and with a +couple of decanters of wine upon the table. + +"He was very civil, couldn't have been more friendly, and we talked and +talked; he was always harping on his daughter; till at last he came out +with what he wanted. Would I give her house-room for a bit, just to keep +her out of the way of her husband and such-like designing people, +supposing she should turn obstinate and refuse to go abroad with him? +'You've a rare old roomy place,' he said. 'I saw some rooms upstairs at +the end of a long passage which don't seem to have been used for years. +You might keep my lady in one of those; and that fine husband of hers +would be as puzzled where to find her as if she was in the centre of +Africa. It would be a very easy thing to do,' he said; 'and it would be +only friendly in you to do it.'" + +"O, Stephen!" cried his wife reproachfully, "how could you ever consent +to such a wicked thing?" + +"I don't know about the wickedness of it," Mr. Whitelaw responded, with +rather a sullen air; "a daughter is bound to obey her father, isn't she? +and if she don't, I should think he had the power to do what he liked +with her. That's how I should look at it, if I was a father. It's all +very well to talk, you see, Nell, but you don't know the arguments such a +man as that can bring to bear. I didn't want to do it; I was against it +from the first. It was a dangerous business, and might bring me into +trouble. But that man bore down upon me to that extent that he made me +promise anything; and when I went home that night, it was with the +understanding that I was to fit up a room--there was a double door to be +put up to shut out sound, and a deal more--ready for Mrs. Holbrook, in +case her father wanted to get her out of the way for a bit." + +"He promised to pay you, of course?" Ellen said, not quite able to +conceal the contempt and aversion which this confession of her husband's +inspired. + +"Well, yes, a man doesn't put himself in jeopardy like that for nothing. +He was to give me a certain sum of money down the first night that Mrs. +Holbrook slept in my house; and another sum of money before he went to +America, and an annual sum for continuing to take care of her, if he +wanted to keep her quiet permanently, as he might. Altogether it would be +a very profitable business, he told me, and I ought to consider myself +uncommonly lucky to get such a chance. As to the kindness or unkindness +of the matter, it was better than shutting her up in a lunatic asylum, he +said; and he might have to do that, if I refused to take her. She was +very weak in her head, he said, and the doctors would throw no difficulty +in his way, if he wanted to put her into a madhouse." + +"But you must have known that was a lie!" exclaimed Ellen indignantly. +"You had seen and talked to her; you must have known that Mrs. Holbrook +was as sane as you or I." + +"I couldn't be supposed to know better than her own father," answered Mr. +Whitelaw, in an injured tone; "he had a right to know best. However, it's +no use arguing about it now. He had such a power over me that I couldn't +go against him; so I gave in, and Mrs. Holbrook came to Wyncomb. She was +to be treated kindly and made comfortable, her father said; that was +agreed between us; and she has been treated kindly and made comfortable. +I had to trust some one to wait upon her, and when Mr. Nowell saw the two +girls he chose Sarah Batts. 'That girl will do anything for money,' he +said; 'she's stupid, but she's wise enough to know her own interest, and +she'll hold her tongue.' So I trusted Sarah Batts, and I had to pay her +pretty stiffly to keep the secret; but she was a rare one to do the work, +and she went about it as quiet as a mouse. Not even mother Tadman ever +suspected her." + +"It was a wicked piece of business--wicked from first to last," said +Ellen. "I can't bear to hear about it." + +And then, remembering that the sinner was so near his end, and that this +voluntary confession of his was in some manner a sign of repentance, she +felt some compunction, and spoke to him in a softer tone. + +"Still I'm grateful to you for telling me the truth at last, Stephen," +she said; "and, thank God, there's no harm done that need last for ever. +Thank God that dear young lady did not lose her life, shut up a prisoner +in that miserable room, as she might have done." + +"She had her victuals regular," observed Mr. Whitelaw, "and the best." + +"Eating and drinking won't keep any one alive, if their heart's +breaking," said Ellen; "but, thank heaven, her sufferings have come to an +end now, and I trust God will forgive your share in them, Stephen." + +And then, sitting by his bedside through the long hours of that night, +she tried in very simple words to awaken him to a sense of his condition. +It was not an easy business to let any glimmer of spiritual light in upon +the darkness of that sordid mind. There did arise perhaps in this last +extremity some dim sense of remorse in the breast of Mr. Whitelaw, some +vague consciousness that in that one act of his life, and in the whole +tenor of his life, he had not exactly shaped his conduct according to +that model which the parson had held up for his imitation in certain +rather prosy sermons, indifferently heard, on the rare occasions of his +attendance at the parish church. But whatever terrors the world to come +might hold for him seemed very faint and shapeless, compared with the +things from which he was to be taken. He thought of his untimely death as +a hardship, an injustice almost. When his wife entreated him to see the +vicar of Crosber before he died, he refused at first, asking what good +the vicar's talk could do him. + +"If he could keep me alive as long as till next July, to see how those +turnips answer with the new dressing, I'd see him fast enough," he said +peevishly; "but he can't; and I don't want to hear his preaching." + +"But it would be a comfort to you, surely, Stephen, to have him talk to +you a little about the goodness and mercy of God. He won't tell you hard +things, I'm sure of that." + +"No, I suppose he'll try and make believe that death's uncommon +pleasant," answered Mr. Whitelaw with a bitter laugh; "as if it could be +pleasant to any man to leave such a place as Wyncomb, after doing as much +for the land, and spending as much labour and money upon it, as I have +done. It's like nurses telling children that a dose of physic's pleasant; +they wouldn't like to have to take it themselves." + +And then by-and-by, when his last day had dawned, and he felt himself +growing weaker, Mr. Whitelaw expressed himself willing to comply with his +wife's request. + +"If it's any satisfaction to you, Nell, I'll see the parson," he said. +"His talk can't do me much harm, anyhow." Whereupon the rector of Crosber +and Hallibury was sent for, and came swiftly to perform his duty to the +dying man. He was closeted with Mr. Whitelaw for some time, and did his +best to awaken Christian feelings in the farmer's breast; but it was +doubtful if his pious efforts resulted in much. The soul of Stephen +Whitelaw was in his barns and granaries, with his pigs and cattle. He +could not so much as conceive the idea of a world in which there should +be no such thing as sale and profit. + +His end came quietly enough at last, and Ellen was free. Her time of +bondage had been very brief, yet she felt herself twenty years older than +she had seemed before that interval of misery began. + +When the will was read by Mr. Pivott on the day of Stephen Whitelaw's +funeral, it was found that the farmer had left his wife two hundred a +year, derivable from real estate. To Mrs. Rebecca Tadman, his cousin, he +bequeathed an annuity of forty pounds, the said annuity to revert to +Ellen upon Mrs. Tadman's death should Ellen survive. The remaining +portion of his real estate he bequeathed to one John James Harris, a +distant cousin, who owned a farm in Wiltshire, with whom Stephen Whitelaw +had spent some years of his boyhood, and from whom he had learned the +science of agriculture. It was less from any love the testator bore John +James Harris than from a morbid jealousy of his probable successor Frank +Randall, that the Wiltshire farmer had been named as residuary legatee. +If Stephen Whitelaw could have left his real estate to the Infirmary, he +would have so left it. His personal estate, consisting of divers +investments in railway shares and other kinds of stock, all of a very +safe kind, was to be realized, and the entire proceeds devoted to the +erection of an additional wing for the extension of Malsham Infirmary, +and his gift was to be recorded on a stone tablet in a conspicuous +position on the front of that building. This, which was an absolute +condition attached to the bequest, had been set forth with great +minuteness by the lawyer, at the special desire of his client. + +Mr. Carley's expression of opinion after hearing this will read need not +be recorded here. It was forcible, to say the least of it; and Mr. +Pivott, the Malsham solicitor, protested against such language as an +outrage upon the finer feelings of our nature. + +"Some degree of disappointment is perhaps excusable upon your part, my +dear sir," said the lawyer, who wished to keep the widow for his client, +and had therefore no desire to offend her father; "but I am sure that in +your calmer moments you will admit that the work to which your son-in-law +has devoted the bulk of his accumulations is a noble one. For ages to +come the sick and the suffering among our townsfolk will bless the name +of Whitelaw. There is a touching reflection for you, Mr. Carley! And +really now, your amiable daughter, with an income of two hundred per +annum--to say nothing of that reversion which must fall in to her +by-and-by on Mrs. Tadman's decease--is left in a very fair position. I +should not have consented to draw up that will, sir, if I had considered +it an unjust one." + +"Then there's a wide difference between your notion of justice and mine," +growled the bailiff; who thereupon relapsed into grim silence, feeling +that complaint was useless. He could no more alter the conditions of Mr. +Whitelaw's will than he could bring Mr. Whitelaw back to life--and that +last operation was one which he was by no means eager to perform. + +Ellen herself felt no disappointment; she fancied, indeed, that her +husband, whom she had never deceived by any pretence of affection, had +behaved with sufficient generosity towards her. Two hundred a year seemed +a large income to her. It would give her perfect independence, and the +power to help others, if need were. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + +CLOSING SCENES. + + +It was not until the day of her husband's funeral that Ellen Whitelaw +wrote to Mr. Fenton to tell him what had happened. She knew that her +letter was likely to bring him post-haste to the Grange, and she wished +his coming to be deferred until that last dismal day was over. Nor was +she sorry that there should be some little pause--a brief interval of +ignorance and tranquillity--in Marian's life before she heard of her +husband's useless voyage across the Atlantic. She was in sad need of rest +of mind and body, and even in those few days gained considerable +strength, by the aid of Mrs. Whitelaw's tender nursing. She had not left +her room during the time that death was in the darkened house, and it was +only on the morning after the funeral that she came downstairs for the +first time. Her appearance had improved wonderfully in that interval of +little more than a week. Her eyes had lost their dim weary look, the +deathly pallor of her complexion had given place to a faint bloom. But +grateful as she was for her own deliverance, she was full of anxiety +about her husband. Ellen Whitelaw's vague assurances that all would be +well, that he would soon be restored to her, were not enough to set her +mind at ease. + +Ellen had not the courage to tell her the truth. It was better that +Gilbert Fenton should do that, she thought. He who knew all the +circumstances of Mr. Holbrook's journey, and the probabilities as to his +return, would be so much better able to comfort and reassure his wife. + +"He will come to-day, I have no doubt," Ellen said to herself on the +morning after her husband's funeral. + +She told Marian how she had written to Mr. Fenton on the day before, in +order to avoid the agitation of a surprise, should he appear at the +Grange without waiting to announce his coming. Nor was she mistaken as to +the probability of his speedy arrival. It was not long after noon when +there came a loud peal of the bell that rang so rarely. Ellen ran herself +to the gate to admit the visitor. She had told him of her husband's death +in her last letter, and her widow's weeds were no surprise to him. He was +pale, but very calm. + +"She is well?" he asked eagerly. + +"Yes, sir, she is as well as one could look for her to be, poor dear, +after what she has gone through. But she is much changed since last you +saw her. You must prepare yourself for that, sir. And she is very anxious +about her husband. I don't know how she'll take it, when she hears that +he has gone to America." + +"Yes, that is a bad business, Mrs. Whitelaw," Gilbert answered gravely. +"He was not in a fit state to travel, unfortunately. He was only just +recovering from a severe illness, and was as weak as a child." + +"O dear, O dear! But you won't tell Mrs. Holbrook that, sir?" + +"I won't tell her more than I can help; of course I don't want to alarm +her; but I am bound to tell her some portion of the truth. You did her +husband a great wrong, you see, Mrs. Whitelaw, when you suspected him of +some share in this vile business. He has shown himself really devoted to +her. I thank God that it has proved so. And now tell me more about this +affair; your letter explains so little." + +"I will tell you all, sir." + +They walked in the garden for about a quarter of an hour before Gilbert +went into the house. Eager as he was to see Marian, he was still more +anxious to hear full particulars of that foul plot of which she had been +made the victim. Ellen Whitelaw told him the story very plainly, making +no attempt to conceal her husband's guilty part in the business; and the +story being finished, she took him straight to the parlour where he had +seen Marian for the first time after her marriage. + +It was a warm bright day, and all three windows were open. Marian was +sitting by one of them, with some scrap of work lying forgotten in her +lap. She started up from her seat as Gilbert went into the room, and +hastened forward to meet him. + +"How good of you to come!" she cried. "And you have brought me news of my +husband? I am sure of that." + +"Yes, dear Mrs. Holbrook--Mrs. Saltram; may I not call you by that name +now?--I know all; and have forgiven all." + +"Then you know how deeply he sinned against you, and how much he valued +your friendship? He would never have played so false a part but for that. +He could not bear to think of being estranged from you." + +"We are not estranged. I have tried to be angry with him; but there are +some old ties that a man cannot break. He has used me very ill, Marian; +but he is still my friend." + +His voice broke a little as he uttered the old familiar name. Yes, she +was changed, cruelly changed, by that ordeal of six months' suffering. +The brightness of her beauty had quite faded; but there was something in +the altered face that touched him more deeply than the old magic. She was +dearer to him, perhaps, in this hour than she had ever been yet. Dearer +to him, and yet divided from him utterly, now that he professed himself +her husband's friend as well as her own. + +Friendship, brotherly affection, those chastened sentiments which he had +fancied had superseded all warmer feelings--where were they now? By the +passionate beating of his heart, by his eager longing to clasp that faded +form to his breast, he knew that he loved her as dearly as on the day +when she promised to be his wife; that he must love her with the same +measure till the end of his existence. + +"Thank God for that," Marian said gently; "thank God that you are still +friends. But why did he not come with you to-day? You have told him about +me, I suppose?" + +"Not yet, Marian; I have not been able to do that. Nor could he come with +me to-day. He has left England--on a false scent." + +And then he told her, in a few words, the story of John Saltram's voyage +to New York; making very light of the matter, and speaking cheerily of +his early return. + +"He will come back at once, of course, when he finds how he has been +deceived," Gilbert said. + +Marian was cruelly distressed by this disappointment. She tried to bear +the blow bravely, and listened with a gentle patience to Gilbert's +reassuring arguments; but it was a hard thing to bear. + +"He will be back soon, you say," she said; "but soon is such a vague +word; and you have not told me when he went." + +Gilbert told her the date of John Saltram's departure. She began +immediately to question him as to the usual length of the voyage, and to +calculate the time he had had for his going and return. Taking the +average length of the voyage as ten days, and allowing ten days for delay +in New York, a month would give ample time for the two journeys; and John +Saltram had been away more than a month. + +Gilbert could see that Marian was quick to take alarm on discovering +this. + +"My dear Mrs. Saltram, be reasonable," he said gently. "Finding such a +cheat put upon him, your husband would naturally be anxious to bring your +father to some kind of reckoning, to extort from him the real secret of +your fate. He would no doubt stay in New York to do this; and we cannot +tell how difficult the business might prove, or how long it would occupy +him." + +"But if he had been detained like that, he would surely have written to +you," said Marian; "and you have heard nothing from him since he left +England." + +"Unhappily nothing. But he is not the best correspondent in the world, +you know." + +"Yes, yes, I know that. Yet, in such a case as this, he would surely have +written, if he were well." Her eyes met Gilbert's as she said this. She +stopped abruptly, dismayed by something in his face. + +"You are hiding some misfortune from me," she cried; "I can see it in +your face. You have had bad news of him." + +"Upon my honour, no. He was not in very strong health when he left +England, that is all; and, like yourself, I am naturally anxious." + +He had not meant to admit even as much as this just yet; but having said +this, he found himself compelled to say more. Marian questioned him so +closely, that she finally extorted from him the whole history of John +Saltram's illness. After that it was quite in vain to attempt +consolation. She was very gentle, very patient, troubling him with no +vain wailings and lamentations; but he could see that her heart was +almost broken. + +He left her at the end of a few hours to return to London, promising to +go on to Liverpool next day, in order to be on the spot to await her +husband's return, and to send her the earliest possible tidings of it. + +"Your friendship for us has given you nothing but trouble and pain," she +said; "but if you will do this for me, I shall be grateful to you for the +rest of my life." + +There was no occasion for that journey to Liverpool. When he arrived in +London that night, Gilbert Fenton found a letter waiting for him at his +Wigmore-street lodgings--a letter with the New York post-mark, but _not_ +addressed in his friend's hand. He tore it open hurriedly, just a little +alarmed by this fact. + +His first feeling was one of relief. There were three separate sheets of +paper in the envelope, and the first which he took up was in John +Saltram's hand--a hurried eager letter, dated some weeks before. + +"My dear Gilbert," he wrote, "I have been duped. This man Nowell is a +most consummate scoundrel. The woman with him is not Marian, but some +girl whom he has picked up to represent her--his wife perhaps, or +something worse. I was very ill on the passage out, and only discovered +the trick at the last. Since then I have traced the scoundrel to his +quarters, and have had an interview with him--rather a stormy one, as you +may suppose. But the long and short of it is that he defies me. He tells +me that my wife is in England, and safe, but will admit no more. I have +consulted a lawyer here, but it seems I can do nothing against him--or +nothing that will not involve a more complicated and protracted business +than I have time or patience for. I don't want this wretch to go +scot-free. It is evident that he has hatched this plot in order to get +possession of his daughter's money, and I have little doubt the lawyer +Medler is in it. But of course my first duty, as well as my most ardent +desire, is to find Marian; and for this purpose I shall come back to +England by the first steamer that will convey me, leaving Mr. Nowell's +punishment to the chances of the future. My dear girl's property, as well +as herself, will be best protected by my presence in England." + +There was a pause here, and the next paragraph was dated two days after. + +"If I have strength to come, I shall return by the next steamer; but the +fact is, my dear Gilbert, I am very ill--have been completely prostrate +since writing the above--and a doctor here tells me I must not think of +the voyage yet awhile. But I shan't allow his opinion to govern me. If I +can crawl to the steamer, which starts three days hence, I shall come." + +Then there was another break, and again the writer went on in a weak and +more straggling hand, without any date this time. + +"My dear Gil, it's nearly a week since I wrote the last lines, and I've +been in bed ever since. I'm afraid there's no hope for me; in plain words, +I believe I'm dying. To you I leave the duty I am not allowed to perform. +Marian is living, and in England. I believe that scoundrelly father of hers +told me the truth when he declared that. You will not rest till you find +her, I know; and you will protect her fortune from that wretch. God bless +you, faithful old friend! Heaven knows how I yearn for the sight of your +honest face, lying here among strangers, to be buried in a foreign land. +See that my wife pays Mrs. Branston the money I borrowed to come here; and +tell her that I was grateful to her, and thought of her on my dying bed. +To my wife I send no message. She knows that I loved her; but how dear she +has been to me in this bitter time of separation, she can never know. + +"You will find a bulky MS. at my chambers, in the bottom drawer on the +right side of my desk. It is my Life of Swift--unfinished as my own life. +If, after reading it, you should think it worth publishing, as a +fragment, with my name to it, I should wish you to arrange its +publication. I should be glad to leave my name upon something." + +In a stranger's hand, and upon another sheet of paper, Gilbert read the +end of his friend's history. + + "Sir,--I regret to inform you that your friend Mr. Saltram expired + at eleven o'clock last night (Wednesday, May 2nd), after an + illness of a fortnight's duration, throughout which I gave him my + best attention as his medical adviser. He will be buried in the + Cypress-hill Cemetery, on Long Island, at his own request; and he + has left sufficient funds for the necessary expenses, and the + payment of his hotel bill, as well as my own small claim against + him. Any surplus which may be left I shall forward to you, when + these payments have been made. I enclose a detailed account of the + case for your satisfaction, and have the honour to be, sir, + + "Yours very obediently, + + "SILAS WARREN, M.D. + + "113 Sixteenth-street, New York, + + "May 3, 186--." + +This was all. + +And Gilbert had to carry these tidings to Marian. For a time he was +almost paralyzed by the blow. He had loved this man as a brother; if he +had ever doubted the strength of his attachment to John Saltram, he knew +it now. But the worst of all was, that one bitter fact--Marian must be +told, and by him. + +He went back to the Grange next day. Again and again upon that miserable +journey he acted over the scene which was to take place when he came to +the end of it--in spite of himself, as it were--going over the words he +was to say, while Marian's face rose before him like a picture. How was +he to tell her? Would not the very fact of this desolation coming to her +from his lips be sufficient to make him hateful to her in all the days to +come? More than once upon that journey he was tempted to turn back, and +to leave his dismal news to be told in a letter. + +But when the fatal moment did at last arrive, the event in no manner +realized the picture of his imagination. Time was not given to him to +speak those solemn preliminary words by which he had intended to prepare +the victim for her deathblow. His presence there, and his presence alone, +were all sufficient to prepare her for some calamity. + +"You have come back to me, and without him!" she exclaimed. "Tell me what +has happened; tell me at once." + +He had no time to defer the stroke. His face told her so much. In a few +moments--before his broken words could shape themselves into +coherence--she knew all. + +There are some things that can never be forgotten. Never, to his dying +day, can Gilbert Fenton forget the quiet agony he had to witness then. + +She was very ill for a long time after that day--in danger of death. All +that she had suffered during her confinement at Wyncomb seemed to fall +upon her now with a double weight. Only the supreme devotion of those who +cared for her could have carried her through that weary time; but the day +did at last come when the peril was pronounced a thing of the past, and +the feeble submissive patient might be carried away from the Grange--from +the scene of her brief married life and of her bitter widowhood. + +She went with Ellen Whitelaw to Ventnor. It was late in August before she +was able to bear this journey; and in this mild refuge for invalids she +remained throughout the winter. + +Even during that trying time, when it seemed more than doubtful whether +she could live to profit by her grandfather's bequest, her interests had +been carefully watched by Gilbert Fenton. It was tolerably evident to his +mind that Mr. Medler had been a tacit accomplice in Percival Nowell's +fraud; or, at any rate, that he had enabled the pretended Mrs. Holbrook +to obtain a large sum of ready money with greater ease than she could +have done had he, as executor, been scrupulously careful to obtain her +identification from some more trustworthy person than he knew Percival +Nowell to be. + +Whether these suspicions of Gilbert's were correct, whether the lawyer +had been actually deceived, or had willingly lent himself to the +furtherance of Nowell's design, must remain unascertained; as well as +the amount of profit which Mr. Medler may have secured to himself by the +transaction. The law held him liable for the whole of the moneys thus +paid over in fraud or error; but the law could do very little against a +man whose sole earthly possessions appeared to be comprised by the +worm-eaten desks and shabby chairs and tables in his dingy offices. The +poor consolation remained of making an attempt to get him struck off "the +Rolls;" but when the City firm of solicitors in whose hands Gilbert had +placed Mrs. Saltram's affairs suggested this, Marian herself entreated +that the man might have the benefit of the doubt as to his complicity +with her father, and that no effort should be made to bring legal ruin +upon him. + +"There has been enough misery caused by this money already," she said. +"Let the matter rest. I am richer than I care to be, as it is." + +Of course Mr. Medler was not allowed to retain his position as executor. +The Court of Chancery was appealed to in the usual manner, and intervened +for the future protection of Mrs. Saltram's interests. + +About Nowell's conduct there was, of course, no doubt; but after wasting +a good deal of money and trouble in his pursuit, Gilbert was fain to +abandon all hope of catching him in the wide regions of the new world. It +was ascertained that the woman who had accompanied him in the _Orinoco_ +as his daughter was actually his wife--a girl whom he had met at some low +London dancing-rooms, and married within a fortnight of his introduction +to her. It is possible that prudence as well as attachment may have had +something to do with this alliance. Mr. Nowell knew that, once united to +him in the bonds of holy matrimony, the accomplice of his fraud would +have no power to give evidence against him. The amount which he had +contrived to secure to himself by this plot amounted in all to something +under four thousand pounds; and out of this it may fairly be supposed +that Mr. Medler claimed a considerable percentage. The only information +that Gilbert Fenton could ever obtain from America was, of a shabby +swindler arrested in a gambling-house in one of the more remote western +cities, whose description corresponded pretty closely with that of +Marian's father. + +There comes a time for the healing of all griefs. The cruel wound closes +at last, though the scar, and the bitter memory of the stroke, may remain +for ever. There came a time--some years after John Saltram's death--when +Gilbert Fenton had his reward. And if the woman he won for his wife in +these latter days was not quite the fresh young beauty he had wooed under +the walnut-trees in Captain Sedgewick's garden, she was still infinitely +more beautiful than all other women in his eyes; she was still the +dearest and best and brightest and purest of all earthly creatures for +him. In that happy time--that perfect summer and harvest of his life--all +his fondest dreams have been realized. He has the home he so often +pictured, the children whose airy voices sounded in his dreams, the dear +face always near him, and, sweeter than all, the knowledge that he is +loved almost as he loves. The bitter apprenticeship has been served, and +the full reward has been granted. + +For Ellen Whitelaw too has come the period of compensation, and the +farmer's worst fears have been realized as to Frank Randall's +participation in that money he loved so well. The income grudgingly left +to his wife by Stephen has enabled Mr. Randall to begin business as a +solicitor upon his own account, in a small town near London, with every +apparent prospect of success. Ellen's home is within easy reach of the +river-side villa occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Fenton; so she is able to see +her dear Marian as often as she likes; nor is there any guest at the +villa more welcome than this faithful friend. + +The half-written memoir of Jonathan Swift was published; and reviewers, +who had no compunction in praising the dead, were quick to recognize the +touch of a master hand, the trenchant style of a powerful thinker. For +the public the book is of no great value; it is merely a curiosity of +literature; but it is the only monument of his own rugged genius which +bears the name of John Saltram. + +Poor little Mrs. Branston has not sacrificed all the joys of life to the +manes of her faithless lover. She is now the happy wife of a dashing +naval officer, and gives pleasant parties which bring life and light into +the great house in Cavendish-square; parties to which Theobald Pallinson +comes, and where he shines as a small feeble star when greater lights are +absent--singing his last little song, or reciting his last little poem, +for the delight of some small coterie of single ladies not in the first +bloom of youth; but parties from which Mrs. Pallinson keeps aloof in a +stern spirit of condemnation, informing her chosen familiars that she was +never more cruelly deceived than in that misguided ungrateful young +woman, Adela Branston. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FENTON'S QUEST*** + + +******* This file should be named 11720.txt or 11720.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/7/2/11720 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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