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diff --git a/807-0.txt b/807-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9283095 --- /dev/null +++ b/807-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1432 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Hunted Down, by Charles Dickens + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + + + + +Title: Hunted Down + [1860] + + +Author: Charles Dickens + + + +Release Date: December 25, 2014 [eBook #807] +[This file was first posted on February 7, 1997] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUNTED DOWN*** + + +Transcribed from the 1905 Chapman and Hall “Hard Times and Reprinted +Pieces” edition by David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org + + + + + + HUNTED DOWN [1860] + + +I. + + +MOST of us see some romances in life. In my capacity as Chief Manager of +a Life Assurance Office, I think I have within the last thirty years seen +more romances than the generality of men, however unpromising the +opportunity may, at first sight, seem. + +As I have retired, and live at my ease, I possess the means that I used +to want, of considering what I have seen, at leisure. My experiences +have a more remarkable aspect, so reviewed, than they had when they were +in progress. I have come home from the Play now, and can recall the +scenes of the Drama upon which the curtain has fallen, free from the +glare, bewilderment, and bustle of the Theatre. + +Let me recall one of these Romances of the real world. + +There is nothing truer than physiognomy, taken in connection with manner. +The art of reading that book of which Eternal Wisdom obliges every human +creature to present his or her own page with the individual character +written on it, is a difficult one, perhaps, and is little studied. It +may require some natural aptitude, and it must require (for everything +does) some patience and some pains. That these are not usually given to +it,—that numbers of people accept a few stock commonplace expressions of +the face as the whole list of characteristics, and neither seek nor know +the refinements that are truest,—that You, for instance, give a great +deal of time and attention to the reading of music, Greek, Latin, French, +Italian, Hebrew, if you please, and do not qualify yourself to read the +face of the master or mistress looking over your shoulder teaching it to +you,—I assume to be five hundred times more probable than improbable. +Perhaps a little self-sufficiency may be at the bottom of this; facial +expression requires no study from you, you think; it comes by nature to +you to know enough about it, and you are not to be taken in. + +I confess, for my part, that I _have_ been taken in, over and over again. +I have been taken in by acquaintances, and I have been taken in (of +course) by friends; far oftener by friends than by any other class of +persons. How came I to be so deceived? Had I quite misread their faces? + +No. Believe me, my first impression of those people, founded on face and +manner alone, was invariably true. My mistake was in suffering them to +come nearer to me and explain themselves away. + + + + +II. + + +THE partition which separated my own office from our general outer office +in the City was of thick plate-glass. I could see through it what passed +in the outer office, without hearing a word. I had it put up in place of +a wall that had been there for years,—ever since the house was built. It +is no matter whether I did or did not make the change in order that I +might derive my first impression of strangers, who came to us on +business, from their faces alone, without being influenced by anything +they said. Enough to mention that I turned my glass partition to that +account, and that a Life Assurance Office is at all times exposed to be +practised upon by the most crafty and cruel of the human race. + +It was through my glass partition that I first saw the gentleman whose +story I am going to tell. + +He had come in without my observing it, and had put his hat and umbrella +on the broad counter, and was bending over it to take some papers from +one of the clerks. He was about forty or so, dark, exceedingly well +dressed in black,—being in mourning,—and the hand he extended with a +polite air, had a particularly well-fitting black-kid glove upon it. His +hair, which was elaborately brushed and oiled, was parted straight up the +middle; and he presented this parting to the clerk, exactly (to my +thinking) as if he had said, in so many words: ‘You must take me, if you +please, my friend, just as I show myself. Come straight up here, follow +the gravel path, keep off the grass, I allow no trespassing.’ + +I conceived a very great aversion to that man the moment I thus saw him. + +He had asked for some of our printed forms, and the clerk was giving them +to him and explaining them. An obliged and agreeable smile was on his +face, and his eyes met those of the clerk with a sprightly look. (I have +known a vast quantity of nonsense talked about bad men not looking you in +the face. Don’t trust that conventional idea. Dishonesty will stare +honesty out of countenance, any day in the week, if there is anything to +be got by it.) + +I saw, in the corner of his eyelash, that he became aware of my looking +at him. Immediately he turned the parting in his hair toward the glass +partition, as if he said to me with a sweet smile, ‘Straight up here, if +you please. Off the grass!’ + +In a few moments he had put on his hat and taken up his umbrella, and was +gone. + +I beckoned the clerk into my room, and asked, ‘Who was that?’ + +He had the gentleman’s card in his hand. ‘Mr. Julius Slinkton, Middle +Temple.’ + +‘A barrister, Mr. Adams?’ + +‘I think not, sir.’ + +‘I should have thought him a clergyman, but for his having no Reverend +here,’ said I. + +‘Probably, from his appearance,’ Mr. Adams replied, ‘he is reading for +orders.’ + +I should mention that he wore a dainty white cravat, and dainty linen +altogether. + +‘What did he want, Mr. Adams?’ + +‘Merely a form of proposal, sir, and form of reference.’ + +‘Recommended here? Did he say?’ + +‘Yes, he said he was recommended here by a friend of yours. He noticed +you, but said that as he had not the pleasure of your personal +acquaintance he would not trouble you.’ + +‘Did he know my name?’ + +‘O yes, sir! He said, “There _is_ Mr. Sampson, I see!”’ + +‘A well-spoken gentleman, apparently?’ + +‘Remarkably so, sir.’ + +‘Insinuating manners, apparently?’ + +‘Very much so, indeed, sir.’ + +‘Hah!’ said I. ‘I want nothing at present, Mr. Adams.’ + +Within a fortnight of that day I went to dine with a friend of mine, a +merchant, a man of taste, who buys pictures and books, and the first man +I saw among the company was Mr. Julius Slinkton. There he was, standing +before the fire, with good large eyes and an open expression of face; but +still (I thought) requiring everybody to come at him by the prepared way +he offered, and by no other. + +I noticed him ask my friend to introduce him to Mr. Sampson, and my +friend did so. Mr. Slinkton was very happy to see me. Not too happy; +there was no over-doing of the matter; happy in a thoroughly well-bred, +perfectly unmeaning way. + +‘I thought you had met,’ our host observed. + +‘No,’ said Mr. Slinkton. ‘I did look in at Mr. Sampson’s office, on your +recommendation; but I really did not feel justified in troubling Mr. +Sampson himself, on a point in the everyday routine of an ordinary +clerk.’ + +I said I should have been glad to show him any attention on our friend’s +introduction. + +‘I am sure of that,’ said he, ‘and am much obliged. At another time, +perhaps, I may be less delicate. Only, however, if I have real business; +for I know, Mr. Sampson, how precious business time is, and what a vast +number of impertinent people there are in the world.’ + +I acknowledged his consideration with a slight bow. ‘You were thinking,’ +said I, ‘of effecting a policy on your life.’ + +‘O dear no! I am afraid I am not so prudent as you pay me the compliment +of supposing me to be, Mr. Sampson. I merely inquired for a friend. But +you know what friends are in such matters. Nothing may ever come of it. +I have the greatest reluctance to trouble men of business with inquiries +for friends, knowing the probabilities to be a thousand to one that the +friends will never follow them up. People are so fickle, so selfish, so +inconsiderate. Don’t you, in your business, find them so every day, Mr. +Sampson?’ + +I was going to give a qualified answer; but he turned his smooth, white +parting on me with its ‘Straight up here, if you please!’ and I answered +‘Yes.’ + +‘I hear, Mr. Sampson,’ he resumed presently, for our friend had a new +cook, and dinner was not so punctual as usual, ‘that your profession has +recently suffered a great loss.’ + +‘In money?’ said I. + +He laughed at my ready association of loss with money, and replied, ‘No, +in talent and vigour.’ + +Not at once following out his allusion, I considered for a moment. +‘_Has_ it sustained a loss of that kind?’ said I. ‘I was not aware of +it.’ + +‘Understand me, Mr. Sampson. I don’t imagine that you have retired. It +is not so bad as that. But Mr. Meltham—’ + +‘O, to be sure!’ said I. ‘Yes! Mr. Meltham, the young actuary of the +“Inestimable.”’ + +‘Just so,’ he returned in a consoling way. + +‘He is a great loss. He was at once the most profound, the most +original, and the most energetic man I have ever known connected with +Life Assurance.’ + +I spoke strongly; for I had a high esteem and admiration for Meltham; and +my gentleman had indefinitely conveyed to me some suspicion that he +wanted to sneer at him. He recalled me to my guard by presenting that +trim pathway up his head, with its internal ‘Not on the grass, if you +please—the gravel.’ + +‘You knew him, Mr. Slinkton.’ + +‘Only by reputation. To have known him as an acquaintance or as a +friend, is an honour I should have sought if he had remained in society, +though I might never have had the good fortune to attain it, being a man +of far inferior mark. He was scarcely above thirty, I suppose?’ + +‘About thirty.’ + +‘Ah!’ he sighed in his former consoling way. ‘What creatures we are! To +break up, Mr. Sampson, and become incapable of business at that time of +life!—Any reason assigned for the melancholy fact?’ + +(‘Humph!’ thought I, as I looked at him. ‘But I WON’T go up the track, +and I WILL go on the grass.’) + +‘What reason have you heard assigned, Mr. Slinkton?’ I asked, +point-blank. + +‘Most likely a false one. You know what Rumour is, Mr. Sampson. I never +repeat what I hear; it is the only way of paring the nails and shaving +the head of Rumour. But when _you_ ask me what reason I have heard +assigned for Mr. Meltham’s passing away from among men, it is another +thing. I am not gratifying idle gossip then. I was told, Mr. Sampson, +that Mr. Meltham had relinquished all his avocations and all his +prospects, because he was, in fact, broken-hearted. A disappointed +attachment I heard,—though it hardly seems probable, in the case of a man +so distinguished and so attractive.’ + +‘Attractions and distinctions are no armour against death,’ said I. + +‘O, she died? Pray pardon me. I did not hear that. That, indeed, makes +it very, very sad. Poor Mr. Meltham! She died? Ah, dear me! +Lamentable, lamentable!’ + +I still thought his pity was not quite genuine, and I still suspected an +unaccountable sneer under all this, until he said, as we were parted, +like the other knots of talkers, by the announcement of dinner: + +‘Mr. Sampson, you are surprised to see me so moved on behalf of a man +whom I have never known. I am not so disinterested as you may suppose. +I have suffered, and recently too, from death myself. I have lost one of +two charming nieces, who were my constant companions. She died +young—barely three-and-twenty; and even her remaining sister is far from +strong. The world is a grave!’ + +He said this with deep feeling, and I felt reproached for the coldness of +my manner. Coldness and distrust had been engendered in me, I knew, by +my bad experiences; they were not natural to me; and I often thought how +much I had lost in life, losing trustfulness, and how little I had +gained, gaining hard caution. This state of mind being habitual to me, I +troubled myself more about this conversation than I might have troubled +myself about a greater matter. I listened to his talk at dinner, and +observed how readily other men responded to it, and with what a graceful +instinct he adapted his subjects to the knowledge and habits of those he +talked with. As, in talking with me, he had easily started the subject I +might be supposed to understand best, and to be the most interested in, +so, in talking with others, he guided himself by the same rule. The +company was of a varied character; but he was not at fault, that I could +discover, with any member of it. He knew just as much of each man’s +pursuit as made him agreeable to that man in reference to it, and just as +little as made it natural in him to seek modestly for information when +the theme was broached. + +As he talked and talked—but really not too much, for the rest of us +seemed to force it upon him—I became quite angry with myself. I took his +face to pieces in my mind, like a watch, and examined it in detail. I +could not say much against any of his features separately; I could say +even less against them when they were put together. ‘Then is it not +monstrous,’ I asked myself, ‘that because a man happens to part his hair +straight up the middle of his head, I should permit myself to suspect, +and even to detest him?’ + +(I may stop to remark that this was no proof of my sense. An observer of +men who finds himself steadily repelled by some apparently trifling thing +in a stranger is right to give it great weight. It may be the clue to +the whole mystery. A hair or two will show where a lion is hidden. A +very little key will open a very heavy door.) + +I took my part in the conversation with him after a time, and we got on +remarkably well. In the drawing-room I asked the host how long he had +known Mr. Slinkton. He answered, not many months; he had met him at the +house of a celebrated painter then present, who had known him well when +he was travelling with his nieces in Italy for their health. His plans +in life being broken by the death of one of them, he was reading with the +intention of going back to college as a matter of form, taking his +degree, and going into orders. I could not but argue with myself that +here was the true explanation of his interest in poor Meltham, and that I +had been almost brutal in my distrust on that simple head. + + + + +III. + + +ON the very next day but one I was sitting behind my glass partition, as +before, when he came into the outer office, as before. The moment I saw +him again without hearing him, I hated him worse than ever. + +It was only for a moment that I had this opportunity; for he waved his +tight-fitting black glove the instant I looked at him, and came straight +in. + +‘Mr. Sampson, good-day! I presume, you see, upon your kind permission to +intrude upon you. I don’t keep my word in being justified by business, +for my business here—if I may so abuse the word—is of the slightest +nature.’ + +I asked, was it anything I could assist him in? + +‘I thank you, no. I merely called to inquire outside whether my dilatory +friend had been so false to himself as to be practical and sensible. +But, of course, he has done nothing. I gave him your papers with my own +hand, and he was hot upon the intention, but of course he has done +nothing. Apart from the general human disinclination to do anything that +ought to be done, I dare say there is a specialty about assuring one’s +life. You find it like will-making. People are so superstitious, and +take it for granted they will die soon afterwards.’ + +‘Up here, if you please; straight up here, Mr. Sampson. Neither to the +right nor to the left.’ I almost fancied I could hear him breathe the +words as he sat smiling at me, with that intolerable parting exactly +opposite the bridge of my nose. + +‘There is such a feeling sometimes, no doubt,’ I replied; ‘but I don’t +think it obtains to any great extent.’ + +‘Well,’ said he, with a shrug and a smile, ‘I wish some good angel would +influence my friend in the right direction. I rashly promised his mother +and sister in Norfolk to see it done, and he promised them that he would +do it. But I suppose he never will.’ + +He spoke for a minute or two on indifferent topics, and went away. + +I had scarcely unlocked the drawers of my writing-table next morning, +when he reappeared. I noticed that he came straight to the door in the +glass partition, and did not pause a single moment outside. + +‘Can you spare me two minutes, my dear Mr. Sampson?’ + +‘By all means.’ + +‘Much obliged,’ laying his hat and umbrella on the table; ‘I came early, +not to interrupt you. The fact is, I am taken by surprise in reference +to this proposal my friend has made.’ + +‘Has he made one?’ said I. + +‘Ye-es,’ he answered, deliberately looking at me; and then a bright idea +seemed to strike him—‘or he only tells me he has. Perhaps that may be a +new way of evading the matter. By Jupiter, I never thought of that!’ + +Mr. Adams was opening the morning’s letters in the outer office. ‘What +is the name, Mr. Slinkton?’ I asked. + +‘Beckwith.’ + +I looked out at the door and requested Mr. Adams, if there were a +proposal in that name, to bring it in. He had already laid it out of his +hand on the counter. It was easily selected from the rest, and he gave +it me. Alfred Beckwith. Proposal to effect a policy with us for two +thousand pounds. Dated yesterday. + +‘From the Middle Temple, I see, Mr. Slinkton.’ + +‘Yes. He lives on the same staircase with me; his door is opposite. I +never thought he would make me his reference though.’ + +‘It seems natural enough that he should.’ + +‘Quite so, Mr. Sampson; but I never thought of it. Let me see.’ He took +the printed paper from his pocket. ‘How am I to answer all these +questions?’ + +‘According to the truth, of course,’ said I. + +‘O, of course!’ he answered, looking up from the paper with a smile; ‘I +meant they were so many. But you do right to be particular. It stands +to reason that you must be particular. Will you allow me to use your pen +and ink?’ + +‘Certainly.’ + +‘And your desk?’ + +‘Certainly.’ + +He had been hovering about between his hat and his umbrella for a place +to write on. He now sat down in my chair, at my blotting-paper and +inkstand, with the long walk up his head in accurate perspective before +me, as I stood with my back to the fire. + +Before answering each question he ran over it aloud, and discussed it. +How long had he known Mr. Alfred Beckwith? That he had to calculate by +years upon his fingers. What were his habits? No difficulty about them; +temperate in the last degree, and took a little too much exercise, if +anything. All the answers were satisfactory. When he had written them +all, he looked them over, and finally signed them in a very pretty hand. +He supposed he had now done with the business. I told him he was not +likely to be troubled any farther. Should he leave the papers there? If +he pleased. Much obliged. Good-morning. + +I had had one other visitor before him; not at the office, but at my own +house. That visitor had come to my bedside when it was not yet daylight, +and had been seen by no one else but by my faithful confidential servant. + +A second reference paper (for we required always two) was sent down into +Norfolk, and was duly received back by post. This, likewise, was +satisfactorily answered in every respect. Our forms were all complied +with; we accepted the proposal, and the premium for one year was paid. + + + + +IV. + + +FOR six or seven months I saw no more of Mr. Slinkton. He called once at +my house, but I was not at home; and he once asked me to dine with him in +the Temple, but I was engaged. His friend’s assurance was effected in +March. Late in September or early in October I was down at Scarborough +for a breath of sea-air, where I met him on the beach. It was a hot +evening; he came toward me with his hat in his hand; and there was the +walk I had felt so strongly disinclined to take in perfect order again, +exactly in front of the bridge of my nose. + +He was not alone, but had a young lady on his arm. + +She was dressed in mourning, and I looked at her with great interest. +She had the appearance of being extremely delicate, and her face was +remarkably pale and melancholy; but she was very pretty. He introduced +her as his niece, Miss Niner. + +‘Are you strolling, Mr. Sampson? Is it possible you can be idle?’ + +It _was_ possible, and I _was_ strolling. + +‘Shall we stroll together?’ + +‘With pleasure.’ + +The young lady walked between us, and we walked on the cool sea sand, in +the direction of Filey. + +‘There have been wheels here,’ said Mr. Slinkton. ‘And now I look again, +the wheels of a hand-carriage! Margaret, my love, your shadow without +doubt!’ + +‘Miss Niner’s shadow?’ I repeated, looking down at it on the sand. + +‘Not that one,’ Mr. Slinkton returned, laughing. ‘Margaret, my dear, +tell Mr. Sampson.’ + +‘Indeed,’ said the young lady, turning to me, ‘there is nothing to +tell—except that I constantly see the same invalid old gentleman at all +times, wherever I go. I have mentioned it to my uncle, and he calls the +gentleman my shadow.’ + +‘Does he live in Scarborough?’ I asked. + +‘He is staying here.’ + +‘Do you live in Scarborough?’ + +‘No, I am staying here. My uncle has placed me with a family here, for +my health.’ + +‘And your shadow?’ said I, smiling. + +‘My shadow,’ she answered, smiling too, ‘is—like myself—not very robust, +I fear; for I lose my shadow sometimes, as my shadow loses me at other +times. We both seem liable to confinement to the house. I have not seen +my shadow for days and days; but it does oddly happen, occasionally, that +wherever I go, for many days together, this gentleman goes. We have come +together in the most unfrequented nooks on this shore.’ + +‘Is this he?’ said I, pointing before us. + +The wheels had swept down to the water’s edge, and described a great loop +on the sand in turning. Bringing the loop back towards us, and spinning +it out as it came, was a hand-carriage, drawn by a man. + +‘Yes,’ said Miss Niner, ‘this really is my shadow, uncle.’ + +As the carriage approached us and we approached the carriage, I saw +within it an old man, whose head was sunk on his breast, and who was +enveloped in a variety of wrappers. He was drawn by a very quiet but +very keen-looking man, with iron-gray hair, who was slightly lame. They +had passed us, when the carriage stopped, and the old gentleman within, +putting out his arm, called to me by my name. I went back, and was +absent from Mr. Slinkton and his niece for about five minutes. + +When I rejoined them, Mr. Slinkton was the first to speak. Indeed, he +said to me in a raised voice before I came up with him: + +‘It is well you have not been longer, or my niece might have died of +curiosity to know who her shadow is, Mr. Sampson.’ + +‘An old East India Director,’ said I. ‘An intimate friend of our +friend’s, at whose house I first had the pleasure of meeting you. A +certain Major Banks. You have heard of him?’ + +‘Never.’ + +‘Very rich, Miss Niner; but very old, and very crippled. An amiable man, +sensible—much interested in you. He has just been expatiating on the +affection that he has observed to exist between you and your uncle.’ + +Mr. Slinkton was holding his hat again, and he passed his hand up the +straight walk, as if he himself went up it serenely, after me. + +‘Mr. Sampson,’ he said, tenderly pressing his niece’s arm in his, ‘our +affection was always a strong one, for we have had but few near ties. We +have still fewer now. We have associations to bring us together, that +are not of this world, Margaret.’ + +‘Dear uncle!’ murmured the young lady, and turned her face aside to hide +her tears. + +‘My niece and I have such remembrances and regrets in common, Mr. +Sampson,’ he feelingly pursued, ‘that it would be strange indeed if the +relations between us were cold or indifferent. If I remember a +conversation we once had together, you will understand the reference I +make. Cheer up, dear Margaret. Don’t droop, don’t droop. My Margaret! +I cannot bear to see you droop!’ + +The poor young lady was very much affected, but controlled herself. His +feelings, too, were very acute. In a word, he found himself under such +great need of a restorative, that he presently went away, to take a bath +of sea-water, leaving the young lady and me sitting by a point of rock, +and probably presuming—but that you will say was a pardonable indulgence +in a luxury—that she would praise him with all her heart. + +She did, poor thing! With all her confiding heart, she praised him to +me, for his care of her dead sister, and for his untiring devotion in her +last illness. The sister had wasted away very slowly, and wild and +terrible fantasies had come over her toward the end, but he had never +been impatient with her, or at a loss; had always been gentle, watchful, +and self-possessed. The sister had known him, as she had known him, to +be the best of men, the kindest of men, and yet a man of such admirable +strength of character, as to be a very tower for the support of their +weak natures while their poor lives endured. + +‘I shall leave him, Mr. Sampson, very soon,’ said the young lady; ‘I know +my life is drawing to an end; and when I am gone, I hope he will marry +and be happy. I am sure he has lived single so long, only for my sake, +and for my poor, poor sister’s.’ + +The little hand-carriage had made another great loop on the damp sand, +and was coming back again, gradually spinning out a slim figure of eight, +half a mile long. + +‘Young lady,’ said I, looking around, laying my hand upon her arm, and +speaking in a low voice, ‘time presses. You hear the gentle murmur of +that sea?’ + + [Picture: “Young Lady,” said I, laying my Hand upon her Arm . . . “Time + presses”] + +She looked at me with the utmost wonder and alarm, saying, ‘Yes!’ + +‘And you know what a voice is in it when the storm comes?’ + +‘Yes!’ + +‘You see how quiet and peaceful it lies before us, and you know what an +awful sight of power without pity it might be, this very night!’ + +‘Yes!’ + +‘But if you had never heard or seen it, or heard of it in its cruelty, +could you believe that it beats every inanimate thing in its way to +pieces, without mercy, and destroys life without remorse?’ + +‘You terrify me, sir, by these questions!’ + +‘To save you, young lady, to save you! For God’s sake, collect your +strength and collect your firmness! If you were here alone, and hemmed +in by the rising tide on the flow to fifty feet above your head, you +could not be in greater danger than the danger you are now to be saved +from.’ + +The figure on the sand was spun out, and straggled off into a crooked +little jerk that ended at the cliff very near us. + +‘As I am, before Heaven and the Judge of all mankind, your friend, and +your dead sister’s friend, I solemnly entreat you, Miss Niner, without +one moment’s loss of time, to come to this gentleman with me!’ + +If the little carriage had been less near to us, I doubt if I could have +got her away; but it was so near that we were there before she had +recovered the hurry of being urged from the rock. I did not remain there +with her two minutes. Certainly within five, I had the inexpressible +satisfaction of seeing her—from the point we had sat on, and to which I +had returned—half supported and half carried up some rude steps notched +in the cliff, by the figure of an active man. With that figure beside +her, I knew she was safe anywhere. + +I sat alone on the rock, awaiting Mr. Slinkton’s return. The twilight +was deepening and the shadows were heavy, when he came round the point, +with his hat hanging at his button-hole, smoothing his wet hair with one +of his hands, and picking out the old path with the other and a +pocket-comb. + +‘My niece not here, Mr. Sampson?’ he said, looking about. + +‘Miss Niner seemed to feel a chill in the air after the sun was down, and +has gone home.’ + +He looked surprised, as though she were not accustomed to do anything +without him; even to originate so slight a proceeding. + +‘I persuaded Miss Niner,’ I explained. + +‘Ah!’ said he. ‘She is easily persuaded—for her good. Thank you, Mr. +Sampson; she is better within doors. The bathing-place was farther than +I thought, to say the truth.’ + +‘Miss Niner is very delicate,’ I observed. + +He shook his head and drew a deep sigh. ‘Very, very, very. You may +recollect my saying so. The time that has since intervened has not +strengthened her. The gloomy shadow that fell upon her sister so early +in life seems, in my anxious eyes, to gather over her, ever darker, ever +darker. Dear Margaret, dear Margaret! But we must hope.’ + +The hand-carriage was spinning away before us at a most indecorous pace +for an invalid vehicle, and was making most irregular curves upon the +sand. Mr. Slinkton, noticing it after he had put his handkerchief to his +eyes, said: + +‘If I may judge from appearances, your friend will be upset, Mr. +Sampson.’ + +‘It looks probable, certainly,’ said I. + +‘The servant must be drunk.’ + +‘The servants of old gentlemen will get drunk sometimes,’ said I. + +‘The major draws very light, Mr. Sampson.’ + +‘The major does draw light,’ said I. + +By this time the carriage, much to my relief, was lost in the darkness. +We walked on for a little, side by side over the sand, in silence. After +a short while he said, in a voice still affected by the emotion that his +niece’s state of health had awakened in him, + +‘Do you stay here long, Mr. Sampson?’ + +‘Why, no. I am going away to-night.’ + +‘So soon? But business always holds you in request. Men like Mr. +Sampson are too important to others, to be spared to their own need of +relaxation and enjoyment.’ + +‘I don’t know about that,’ said I. ‘However, I am going back.’ + +‘To London?’ + +‘To London.’ + +‘I shall be there too, soon after you.’ + +I knew that as well as he did. But I did not tell him so. Any more than +I told him what defensive weapon my right hand rested on in my pocket, as +I walked by his side. Any more than I told him why I did not walk on the +sea side of him with the night closing in. + +We left the beach, and our ways diverged. We exchanged good-night, and +had parted indeed, when he said, returning, + +‘Mr. Sampson, _may_ I ask? Poor Meltham, whom we spoke of,—dead yet?’ + +‘Not when I last heard of him; but too broken a man to live long, and +hopelessly lost to his old calling.’ + +‘Dear, dear, dear!’ said he, with great feeling. ‘Sad, sad, sad! The +world is a grave!’ And so went his way. + +It was not his fault if the world were not a grave; but I did not call +that observation after him, any more than I had mentioned those other +things just now enumerated. He went his way, and I went mine with all +expedition. This happened, as I have said, either at the end of +September or beginning of October. The next time I saw him, and the last +time, was late in November. + + + + +V. + + +I HAD a very particular engagement to breakfast in the Temple. It was a +bitter north-easterly morning, and the sleet and slush lay inches deep in +the streets. I could get no conveyance, and was soon wet to the knees; +but I should have been true to that appointment, though I had to wade to +it up to my neck in the same impediments. + +The appointment took me to some chambers in the Temple. They were at the +top of a lonely corner house overlooking the river. The name, MR. ALFRED +BECKWITH, was painted on the outer door. On the door opposite, on the +same landing, the name MR. JULIUS SLINKTON. The doors of both sets of +chambers stood open, so that anything said aloud in one set could be +heard in the other. + +I had never been in those chambers before. They were dismal, close, +unwholesome, and oppressive; the furniture, originally good, and not yet +old, was faded and dirty,—the rooms were in great disorder; there was a +strong prevailing smell of opium, brandy, and tobacco; the grate and +fire-irons were splashed all over with unsightly blotches of rust; and on +a sofa by the fire, in the room where breakfast had been prepared, lay +the host, Mr. Beckwith, a man with all the appearances of the worst kind +of drunkard, very far advanced upon his shameful way to death. + +‘Slinkton is not come yet,’ said this creature, staggering up when I went +in; ‘I’ll call him.—Halloa! Julius Cæsar! Come and drink!’ As he +hoarsely roared this out, he beat the poker and tongs together in a mad +way, as if that were his usual manner of summoning his associate. + +The voice of Mr. Slinkton was heard through the clatter from the opposite +side of the staircase, and he came in. He had not expected the pleasure +of meeting me. I have seen several artful men brought to a stand, but I +never saw a man so aghast as he was when his eyes rested on mine. + +‘Julius Cæsar,’ cried Beckwith, staggering between us, ‘Mist’ Sampson! +Mist’ Sampson, Julius Cæsar! Julius, Mist’ Sampson, is the friend of my +soul. Julius keeps me plied with liquor, morning, noon, and night. +Julius is a real benefactor. Julius threw the tea and coffee out of +window when I used to have any. Julius empties all the water-jugs of +their contents, and fills ’em with spirits. Julius winds me up and keeps +me going.—Boil the brandy, Julius!’ + +There was a rusty and furred saucepan in the ashes,—the ashes looked like +the accumulation of weeks,—and Beckwith, rolling and staggering between +us as if he were going to plunge headlong into the fire, got the saucepan +out, and tried to force it into Slinkton’s hand. + +‘Boil the brandy, Julius Cæsar! Come! Do your usual office. Boil the +brandy!’ + +He became so fierce in his gesticulations with the saucepan, that I +expected to see him lay open Slinkton’s head with it. I therefore put +out my hand to check him. He reeled back to the sofa, and sat there +panting, shaking, and red-eyed, in his rags of dressing-gown, looking at +us both. I noticed then that there was nothing to drink on the table but +brandy, and nothing to eat but salted herrings, and a hot, sickly, +highly-peppered stew. + +‘At all events, Mr. Sampson,’ said Slinkton, offering me the smooth +gravel path for the last time, ‘I thank you for interfering between me +and this unfortunate man’s violence. However you came here, Mr. Sampson, +or with whatever motive you came here, at least I thank you for that.’ + +‘Boil the brandy,’ muttered Beckwith. + +Without gratifying his desire to know how I came there, I said, quietly, +‘How is your niece, Mr. Slinkton?’ + +He looked hard at me, and I looked hard at him. + +‘I am sorry to say, Mr. Sampson, that my niece has proved treacherous and +ungrateful to her best friend. She left me without a word of notice or +explanation. She was misled, no doubt, by some designing rascal. +Perhaps you may have heard of it.’ + +‘I did hear that she was misled by a designing rascal. In fact, I have +proof of it.’ + +‘Are you sure of that?’ said he. + +‘Quite.’ + +‘Boil the brandy,’ muttered Beckwith. ‘Company to breakfast, Julius +Cæsar. Do your usual office,—provide the usual breakfast, dinner, tea, +and supper. Boil the brandy!’ + +The eyes of Slinkton looked from him to me, and he said, after a moment’s +consideration, + +‘Mr. Sampson, you are a man of the world, and so am I. I will be plain +with you.’ + +‘O no, you won’t,’ said I, shaking my head. + +‘I tell you, sir, I will be plain with you.’ + +‘And I tell you you will not,’ said I. ‘I know all about you. _You_ +plain with any one? Nonsense, nonsense!’ + +‘I plainly tell you, Mr. Sampson,’ he went on, with a manner almost +composed, ‘that I understand your object. You want to save your funds, +and escape from your liabilities; these are old tricks of trade with you +Office-gentlemen. But you will not do it, sir; you will not succeed. +You have not an easy adversary to play against, when you play against me. +We shall have to inquire, in due time, when and how Mr. Beckwith fell +into his present habits. With that remark, sir, I put this poor +creature, and his incoherent wanderings of speech, aside, and wish you a +good morning and a better case next time.’ + +While he was saying this, Beckwith had filled a half-pint glass with +brandy. At this moment, he threw the brandy at his face, and threw the +glass after it. Slinkton put his hands up, half blinded with the spirit, +and cut with the glass across the forehead. At the sound of the +breakage, a fourth person came into the room, closed the door, and stood +at it; he was a very quiet but very keen-looking man, with iron-gray +hair, and slightly lame. + +Slinkton pulled out his handkerchief, assuaged the pain in his smarting +eyes, and dabbled the blood on his forehead. He was a long time about +it, and I saw that in the doing of it, a tremendous change came over him, +occasioned by the change in Beckwith,—who ceased to pant and tremble, sat +upright, and never took his eyes off him. I never in my life saw a face +in which abhorrence and determination were so forcibly painted as in +Beckwith’s then. + +‘Look at me, you villain,’ said Beckwith, ‘and see me as I really am. I +took these rooms, to make them a trap for you. I came into them as a +drunkard, to bait the trap for you. You fell into the trap, and you will +never leave it alive. On the morning when you last went to Mr. Sampson’s +office, I had seen him first. Your plot has been known to both of us, +all along, and you have been counter-plotted all along. What? Having +been cajoled into putting that prize of two thousand pounds in your +power, I was to be done to death with brandy, and, brandy not proving +quick enough, with something quicker? Have I never seen you, when you +thought my senses gone, pouring from your little bottle into my glass? +Why, you Murderer and Forger, alone here with you in the dead of night, +as I have so often been, I have had my hand upon the trigger of a pistol, +twenty times, to blow your brains out!’ + +This sudden starting up of the thing that he had supposed to be his +imbecile victim into a determined man, with a settled resolution to hunt +him down and be the death of him, mercilessly expressed from head to +foot, was, in the first shock, too much for him. Without any figure of +speech, he staggered under it. But there is no greater mistake than to +suppose that a man who is a calculating criminal, is, in any phase of his +guilt, otherwise than true to himself, and perfectly consistent with his +whole character. Such a man commits murder, and murder is the natural +culmination of his course; such a man has to outface murder, and will do +it with hardihood and effrontery. It is a sort of fashion to express +surprise that any notorious criminal, having such crime upon his +conscience, can so brave it out. Do you think that if he had it on his +conscience at all, or had a conscience to have it upon, he would ever +have committed the crime? + +Perfectly consistent with himself, as I believe all such monsters to be, +this Slinkton recovered himself, and showed a defiance that was +sufficiently cold and quiet. He was white, he was haggard, he was +changed; but only as a sharper who had played for a great stake and had +been outwitted and had lost the game. + +‘Listen to me, you villain,’ said Beckwith, ‘and let every word you hear +me say be a stab in your wicked heart. When I took these rooms, to throw +myself in your way and lead you on to the scheme that I knew my +appearance and supposed character and habits would suggest to such a +devil, how did I know that? Because you were no stranger to me. I knew +you well. And I knew you to be the cruel wretch who, for so much money, +had killed one innocent girl while she trusted him implicitly, and who +was by inches killing another.’ + +Slinkton took out a snuff-box, took a pinch of snuff, and laughed. + +‘But see here,’ said Beckwith, never looking away, never raising his +voice, never relaxing his face, never unclenching his hand. ‘See what a +dull wolf you have been, after all! The infatuated drunkard who never +drank a fiftieth part of the liquor you plied him with, but poured it +away, here, there, everywhere—almost before your eyes; who bought over +the fellow you set to watch him and to ply him, by outbidding you in his +bribe, before he had been at his work three days—with whom you have +observed no caution, yet who was so bent on ridding the earth of you as a +wild beast, that he would have defeated you if you had been ever so +prudent—that drunkard whom you have, many a time, left on the floor of +this room, and who has even let you go out of it, alive and undeceived, +when you have turned him over with your foot—has, almost as often, on the +same night, within an hour, within a few minutes, watched you awake, had +his hand at your pillow when you were asleep, turned over your papers, +taken samples from your bottles and packets of powder, changed their +contents, rifled every secret of your life!’ + +He had had another pinch of snuff in his hand, but had gradually let it +drop from between his fingers to the floor; where he now smoothed it out +with his foot, looking down at it the while. + +[Picture: He had another pinch of snuff in his hand, but gradually let it + drop from between his fingers] + +‘That drunkard,’ said Beckwith, ‘who had free access to your rooms at all +times, that he might drink the strong drinks that you left in his way and +be the sooner ended, holding no more terms with you than he would hold +with a tiger, has had his master-key for all your locks, his test for all +your poisons, his clue to your cipher-writing. He can tell you, as well +as you can tell him, how long it took to complete that deed, what doses +there were, what intervals, what signs of gradual decay upon mind and +body; what distempered fancies were produced, what observable changes, +what physical pain. He can tell you, as well as you can tell him, that +all this was recorded day by day, as a lesson of experience for future +service. He can tell you, better than you can tell him, where that +journal is at this moment.’ + +Slinkton stopped the action of his foot, and looked at Beckwith. + +‘No,’ said the latter, as if answering a question from him. ‘Not in the +drawer of the writing-desk that opens with a spring; it is not there, and +it never will be there again.’ + +‘Then you are a thief!’ said Slinkton. + +Without any change whatever in the inflexible purpose, which it was quite +terrific even to me to contemplate, and from the power of which I had +always felt convinced it was impossible for this wretch to escape, +Beckwith returned, + +‘And I am your niece’s shadow, too.’ + +With an imprecation Slinkton put his hand to his head, tore out some +hair, and flung it to the ground. It was the end of the smooth walk; he +destroyed it in the action, and it will soon be seen that his use for it +was past. + +Beckwith went on: ‘Whenever you left here, I left here. Although I +understood that you found it necessary to pause in the completion of that +purpose, to avert suspicion, still I watched you close, with the poor +confiding girl. When I had the diary, and could read it word by word,—it +was only about the night before your last visit to Scarborough,—you +remember the night? you slept with a small flat vial tied to your +wrist,—I sent to Mr. Sampson, who was kept out of view. This is Mr. +Sampson’s trusty servant standing by the door. We three saved your niece +among us.’ + +Slinkton looked at us all, took an uncertain step or two from the place +where he had stood, returned to it, and glanced about him in a very +curious way,—as one of the meaner reptiles might, looking for a hole to +hide in. I noticed at the same time, that a singular change took place +in the figure of the man,—as if it collapsed within his clothes, and they +consequently became ill-shapen and ill-fitting. + +‘You shall know,’ said Beckwith, ‘for I hope the knowledge will be bitter +and terrible to you, why you have been pursued by one man, and why, when +the whole interest that Mr. Sampson represents would have expended any +money in hunting you down, you have been tracked to death at a single +individual’s charge. I hear you have had the name of Meltham on your +lips sometimes?’ + +I saw, in addition to those other changes, a sudden stoppage come upon +his breathing. + +‘When you sent the sweet girl whom you murdered (you know with what +artfully made-out surroundings and probabilities you sent her) to +Meltham’s office, before taking her abroad to originate the transaction +that doomed her to the grave, it fell to Meltham’s lot to see her and to +speak with her. It did not fall to his lot to save her, though I know he +would freely give his own life to have done it. He admired her;—I would +say he loved her deeply, if I thought it possible that you could +understand the word. When she was sacrificed, he was thoroughly assured +of your guilt. Having lost her, he had but one object left in life, and +that was to avenge her and destroy you.’ + +I saw the villain’s nostrils rise and fall convulsively; but I saw no +moving at his mouth. + +‘That man Meltham,’ Beckwith steadily pursued, ‘was as absolutely certain +that you could never elude him in this world, if he devoted himself to +your destruction with his utmost fidelity and earnestness, and if he +divided the sacred duty with no other duty in life, as he was certain +that in achieving it he would be a poor instrument in the hands of +Providence, and would do well before Heaven in striking you out from +among living men. I am that man, and I thank God that I have done my +work!’ + +If Slinkton had been running for his life from swift-footed savages, a +dozen miles, he could not have shown more emphatic signs of being +oppressed at heart and labouring for breath, than he showed now, when he +looked at the pursuer who had so relentlessly hunted him down. + +‘You never saw me under my right name before; you see me under my right +name now. You shall see me once again in the body, when you are tried +for your life. You shall see me once again in the spirit, when the cord +is round your neck, and the crowd are crying against you!’ + +When Meltham had spoken these last words, the miscreant suddenly turned +away his face, and seemed to strike his mouth with his open hand. At the +same instant, the room was filled with a new and powerful odour, and, +almost at the same instant, he broke into a crooked run, leap, start,—I +have no name for the spasm,—and fell, with a dull weight that shook the +heavy old doors and windows in their frames. + +That was the fitting end of him. + +When we saw that he was dead, we drew away from the room, and Meltham, +giving me his hand, said, with a weary air, + +‘I have no more work on earth, my friend. But I shall see her again +elsewhere.’ + +It was in vain that I tried to rally him. He might have saved her, he +said; he had not saved her, and he reproached himself; he had lost her, +and he was broken-hearted. + +‘The purpose that sustained me is over, Sampson, and there is nothing now +to hold me to life. I am not fit for life; I am weak and spiritless; I +have no hope and no object; my day is done.’ + +In truth, I could hardly have believed that the broken man who then spoke +to me was the man who had so strongly and so differently impressed me +when his purpose was before him. I used such entreaties with him, as I +could; but he still said, and always said, in a patient, undemonstrative +way,—nothing could avail him,—he was broken-hearted. + +He died early in the next spring. He was buried by the side of the poor +young lady for whom he had cherished those tender and unhappy regrets; +and he left all he had to her sister. She lived to be a happy wife and +mother; she married my sister’s son, who succeeded poor Meltham; she is +living now, and her children ride about the garden on my walking-stick +when I go to see her. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUNTED DOWN*** + + +******* This file should be named 807-0.txt or 807-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/8/0/807 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law 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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