Beauchamp; or, The Error.

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Beauchamp; or, The Error. Page 12

by G. P. R. James


  BEAUCHAMP'S STORY.

  "I am of an Italian family," said my friend, "but my father and mygrandfather were both born in Germany; exceedingly good people intheir way, but by no means very wealthy. My elder brother was beingeducated for a physician, and had just finished his course of study,when my father, having given me as good an education as he could inNuremberg, thought fit to send me to Hamburg, that I might pursue mystudies there, and take advantage of any opportunity that might occurfor advancing myself in life. My stock of all kinds was exceedinglysmall when I set out; my purse contained the closely-estimatedexpenses of my journey, and the allowance made for my maintenanceduring six months, which did not admit the slightest idea of luxury ofany kind. I was grateful, however, for what was given, for I knew thatmy father could afford no more, and I had no hope of another 'heller'till my half year was out. I had my ordinary travelling dress, and mymother gave me six new shirts, which she had spun with her own hands;besides these, my portmanteau contained one complete black suit, twopair of shoes, and a pair of silver buckles, which my father took offhis own feet and bestowed them upon me with his benediction. My elderbrother always loved me, and was kind to me; and when my going wasfirst talked of, he regretted deeply that he had nothing to give me;but my little preparations occupied a fortnight, and during that timegood luck befriended him and me, and he treated and killed his firstpatient. Thus he obtained the means of making me a sumptuous presentfor my journey, which consisted of a straight-cut blue mantle, with asquare collar. Let me dwell upon the mantle, for it is important. Itwas in the Nuremberg fashion, which had gone out of vogue over allGermany for at last thirty years, and when I first put it on, I feltvery proud of it, thinking that I looked like one of the cavaliers inthe great picture in the town-hall. However, there was not anothermantle like it in all Germany, except in Nuremberg--sky-blue, fallingthree inches below the knee, with a square-cut collar. I will passover my journey to Hamburg, till my arrival in a little common inn, inthe old part of the town. Not having a pfennig to spare, I set outearly the next morning to look out for a lodging, and saw several thatwould have suited myself very well, but which did not suit myfinances. At length, seeing the wife of a grocer standing at the door,with a good-humoured countenance, in a narrow and dark street,containing some large, fine houses, which had seen the splendours offormer times, I walked up to her and asked if she could recommend alodging to a young man who was not over rich. After thinking for amoment, she pointed over the way, to a house with a decorated front,which had become as black as ink with age. The lower story wasentirely occupied by an iron-warehouse; but she said that up above onthe first floor I should find Widow Gentner, who let one room, and whohad, she believed, no lodger at the time. I thanked her many times forher civility, and walking across the street to the point sheindicated, I looked up at the cornices and other ornaments which weredisplayed upon the facade. Dirty they were beyond all doubt. A pair ofstone ladies with baskets in their hands, which had probably been onceas white as snow, now displayed long dripping lines of black upontheir garments; their noses had disappeared, but the balls of the eyeswere of the deepest brown, though above the centre appeared a whitespot, which seemed to show the presence of cataract. The fruit in thebaskets, however, consisted apparently of black cherries, and a dingycornucopia, which stood by the side of each, vomited forth swarthyfruit and flowers of a very uninviting quality. I gazed in surpriseand admiration, and asked myself if it ever would be my fate to livein so fine a mansion. Taking courage, however, I inquired at theironmonger's which was the door of Widow Gentner, and of the threewhich opened into the lower part of the house, I was directed to thesecond. On the first floor I found a tidy little maid, who introducedme to the presence of her mistress, a quiet, dry old lady, who wasseated in a room which had apparently formed part of a magnificentsaloon--I say formed part, for it was evident that the size of thechamber had been much curtailed. On the ceiling, which was of the mostmagnificent stucco work I ever saw, appeared various groups of angelsand cherubs in high relief, as large as life, and seated amidst cloudsand bunches of flowers as big as feather-beds. But that ceilingbetrayed the dismemberment of the room; for all along the side whereran the wall behind the good lady were seen angels' legs without theheads and bodies, baskets of flowers cut in two, and cherubs with notabove one-half of the members even, which sculptors have left them.This was soon explained: the widow informed me that she had dividedher chamber into three, of which she reserved one for herself, anotherfor her little maid, and let the third, which had a staircase toitself opening from the street. She had done so with a good wall, shesaid, to support the plafond, so that if I wanted to see the room shehad to let, I must go down again with her and mount the other stairs,as there was no door of communication. I admired her prudence, andaccompanied her at once to a small room, arrived at by a smallstaircase with its own street-door; and there I found on the ceilingabove my head the lost legs and wings of the angels on the other side,besides a very solid pair of cherubims of my own. It contained alittle narrow bed, a table, a scanty proportion of chairs and otherthings necessary for the existence of a student; and though anunpleasant feeling of solitude crept over me as I thought ofinhabiting an apartment so entirely cut off from all human proximity,yet as the widow's rent was small, I closed the bargain at once, andsoon was installed in my new abode. The good lady was very kind andattentive, and did all she could to make me comfortable, inquiring,amongst other things, what letters of introduction I had in Hamburg. Ihad but one which I considered of any value, which was addressed,with many of those flourishes which you know are common amongst us, toMr. S., a famous man in his day, both as a philosopher and literaryman, and who was also a man of sense of the world, and what is morethan ali, of a kind and benevolent heart. I went to deliver it thatvery day, and met with a most kind and friendly reception from agood-looking old gentleman, of perhaps sixty-three or four, who atonce made me feel myself at home with him, treating me with thatparental air which inspired both respect and confidence. He askedseveral questions about my journey, where I lodged, how I intended toemploy my time, and last, what was the state of my finances. I toldhim all exactly as it was, and when I rose to depart, he laid his handon my arm with the most benevolent air in the world, saying, 'You willdine with me to-morrow at twelve o'clock, and I shall expect to seeyou at dinner three days in the week as long as you stay. From eightto ten at night I am always at home, and whenever you have nothingelse to do, come in and spend those hours with us.' I will not pretendto say I was not quite well aware that the place thus granted me athis dinner-table was offered from a knowledge of the limited state ofmy finances; but pride in my case was out of the question, and I wasexceedingly grateful for the act of kindness, which saved me aconsiderable sum in my housekeeping, and enabled me to indulge in afew little luxuries which I could not otherwise have commanded.

  "It was the autumn of the year when I arrived at Hamburg, but the timepassed very pleasantly. All the day I was engaged in my studies; attwelve o'clock I dined, either at my own chamber or at worthy Mr.S.'s, and almost every evening was spent at his house, where he failednot to regale me, either with a cup of fine coffee, or sometimes as agreat treat, with a cup of tea, according to your English mode. Inshort, I became his nightly guest, and as the evenings grew dark andsometimes foggy, I bought a little lantern to light myself through thelong and lonely streets which I had to pass from his house to my own.On these occasions, too, as the weather grew intensely cold, my bluecloak with the square collar proved a most serviceable friend, andevery night at ten o'clock I might be seen in precisely the sameattire, with my black suit, in great part covered by the azure mantle,and the small lantern in my hand, finding my way homeward to mysolitary abode. Mr. S. lived in the fine new part of the town, wherehe had a handsome house, with two maid-servants and his coachman, butthe latter slept at the stables. I lived, as I have before said, inthe old part of the town, well-nigh a mile distant; thus, in comingand going, I got exercise at night, if I did
not in the day, and Imark it particularly, that I used to enjoy my walk to his house andback, and used to look forward to it with pleasure during my hours ofstudy, in order that you may see, that on the occasion of which I amabout to speak, I was affected by no fantastical melancholy.

  "At length, one night in the winter of 17--, after passing the eveningat the house of Mr. S., where I had taken nothing but a cup of coffeeand a slice of brown bread-and-butter, I took leave of my friend, puton my blue mantle with a square collar, lighted my lantern at thehousemaid's candle, and having safely shut the glass, set out on mywalk home. It was about a quarter-past ten, and the night was clearand very dark; the sky, indeed, was full of stars, which lookedpeculiarly bright as I gazed up at them, between the tall houses, asif from the bottom of a well, and I felt a sort of exhilaratingfreshness in the air that raised my spirits rather than otherwise. Iwalked along to the end of the first street with a light step, turnedinto the second, and was just entering the third, when I saw a figuresome thirty or forty paces before me, standing in a corner as ifwaiting for some one. Although the streets, in the good old days ofHamburg, were generally by that time of night quite deserted, yetthere was nothing extraordinary in my meeting one or two persons as Iwent home, so that I took little or no notice of this figure, till Ihad advanced to within about twenty paces, when it turned itself fulltowards me, and at the same time the light of my lantern fell directupon it. Guess my surprise when I saw a being, so exactly like myself,that I could have imagined I was looking in a glass. There were theblack legs, the shoes and silver buckles, the blue mantle with thesquare-cut collar, and the little lantern with the handle at the back,held just as I held mine. I stopped suddenly, and rubbed my eyes withmy left hand; but the figure immediately turned round and walked awaybefore me. At the same time my heart beat violently, and a sort ofstrange dreamy sensation of horror came over me, like that which takespossession of one sometimes when labouring under the nightmare. Aninstant's reflection made me ashamed of what I felt, and saying tomyself, 'I'll look a little closer at this gentleman,' I walked on,hurrying my pace. The figure, however, quickened its steps in the sameproportion. I did not like to run, but I was always a quick walker,and I hastened as fast as ever I could; but it had no effect; thefigure, without the least apparent effort, kept always at the samedistance, and every moment I felt the sort of superstitious dreadwhich had taken possession of me increasing, and struggling againstthe efforts of resolution. Resolution conquered, however, anddetermined to see who this was that was so like me, without showinghim too plainly that I was chasing him, I stopped at a corner where astreet wound round, and entered again the one that I was pursuing atsome distance, and then taking to my heels, I ran as hard as I couldto get before my friend in the blue mantle. When I entered the otherstreet again, though I must have gained two or three minutes at least,instead of seeing the figure coming from the side where I had left it,there it was, walking on deliberately in the direction I usuallyfollowed towards my own house. We were now within three streets ofWidow Gentner's, and though they were all of them narrow enough, Igenerally took those which were most open. There was a lane, however,to the left, which, passing by the grocer's I have mentioned, cut offat least a quarter of the way, and as I was now overpowered byfeelings I cannot describe, I resolved to take the shortest path, andrun as hard as I could, in order to get home, and shut myself inbefore the figure in the blue mantle reached the spot. Off I set thendown the narrow lane like lightning, but when I came to the grocer'scorner, my horror was complete, on beholding the same figure walkingalong past the closed windows of the iron-shop, and I stopped with myheart beating as if it would have burst through my ribs. With eyesalmost starting from my head, and the light of the lantern turnedfull upon it, I gazed at its proceedings, when behold, it walkedquietly up to my door, stopped, turned round towards the house, putthe right-hand in its pocket, and seemed feeling for my key. The keywas produced, and stooping down, just as I should have done, after alittle searching for the keyhole, the door was opened, the figure wentin, and instantly the door closed again.

  "If you had given me the empire of a world, I could not have made upmy mind to go in after it, and setting off more like a madman than anything else, I returned to the house of Mr. S., with the intention oftelling him what had occurred. The bell was answered quickly enough bythe housemaid, who gazed at my wild and scared appearance with somesurprise. She told me, however, that the old gentleman had gone tobed, and that she could not think of waking him on any account; andresolved not to go home, and yet not liking to walk the streets ofHamburg all night, I persuaded her with some difficulty to let me sitin the saloon till I could speak with Mr. S. in the morning. I willnot detain you by describing how I passed the night; but when myfriend came down the next day, I related to him all that occurred,with many excuses for the liberty I had taken. He listened gravely,and his first question naturally was, if I were quite sure I had gonestraight homeward, without entering any of those places where strongdrinks were sold. I assured him most solemnly that the only thing thathad entered my lips that night was the cup of coffee which I had takenat his house.

  "'The maid can tell you,' I said, 'that I had not been absent morethan three quarters of an hour when I returned.'

  "'Well, my young friend,' he replied, 'I believe you fully; verystrange things occasionally happen to us in life, and this seems one.However, we will have some breakfast, and then go and inquire intoit.'

  "After breakfast we set out and walked to my house, I pointing out bythe way, all the different spots connected with my tale. When wereached the gloomy old mansion, with its decorated front, I was goingdirect to my own door, but Mr. S. said, 'Stay, we will first talk toyour landlady for a minute.' And we accordingly walked up to the roomsof Widow Gentner by the other door and the other staircase. The widowwas very proud of the visit of so distinguished a person in the townas Mr. S., and answered his questions with due respect. The first wasa very common one in that part of Germany, namely, whether she hadslept well that night. She assured him she had, perfectly well; and hethen proceeded with a somewhat impressive air, to inquire if nothinghad occurred to disturb her. She then suddenly seemed to recollectherself, and answered, 'Now you mention it, I recollect I was awokeabout eleven o'clock, I think, by a noise on the other side of thewall; but thinking that Mr. Z. had thrown over his table, or somethingof that kind, I turned on the other side, and went to sleep again.'

  "No further information being to be obtained, we descended to thestreet, and taking out my keys, I opened the door, and we went in. Myheart beat a little as we mounted the stairs, but resolving not toshow any want of courage, I boldly unlocked the room-door and threw itopen. The sight that presented itself made me pause on the threshold,for there on my bed, where I should have been lying at the very momentof its fall, was the whole ceiling of that part of the room, angels'legs, and cherubims' wings, flower-baskets, and every thing, and sogreat was the weight and the force with which it had come down, thatit had broken the solid bedstead underneath it. As I do not suppose myhead is formed of much more strong materials, it is probable that itwould have been cracked as well as the bed, and I heartily thank Godfor my preservation. All my good old friend ventured to say, however,was, 'A most fortunate escape! Had you slept here last night, youwould have been killed to a certainty.' Though a doctor of philosophy,he did not risk any speculations upon the strange apparition which Ihad beheld the night before; but invited me to take up my abode in hishouse till my room could be put in order, never afterwards mentioningthe appearance of my double; and I have only to add that from thattime to this, now between fifty and sixty years, I have never seenmyself again except in a looking-glass."

  "Such," continued Beauchamp, "is the story of my German friend,exactly as he told it to me. I must leave you to judge of it as youwill, for unless you could see the old man, and know his perfectsimplicity of character, and quiet matter-of-fact temper of mind, youcould not take the same view of his history that I do."


  "In short, Mr. Beauchamp, you are a believer in ghosts," said Sir JohnSlingsby, laughing; "well, for my part, I never saw any better spiritthan a bottle of brandy, and hope never to see a worse."

  "Take care you don't find yourself mistaken, Sir John," answered Dr.Miles, "for although it is rather difficult to meet with good spirits,the bad ones are much more easily conjured up."

  "I am not afraid, doctor," answered Sir John, "and mind, I've only hadthree or four glasses of wine, so mine is not Dutch courage now; butlet us talk of something else than ghosts and such things, or we shallall have the blue devils before we've done--a capital story,nevertheless, Beauchamp; but this is a good story too, doctor, aboutmy sister being stopped on the king's highway. Has she told you aboutit?"

  Dr. Miles merely nodded his head, and Sir John went on,

  "I can't make out the game of that old rascal Wittingham, whoseems devilish unwilling to catch the thieves, and had taken himselfout of the way when Ned Hayward and I called this morning. The oldlinen-drapering scamp shall find that he can't treat Jack Slingsby inthis way."

  "Indeed, my dear brother, I wish you would let the matter rest," saidMrs. Clifford; "no harm was done, except frightening me veryfoolishly, and to pursue it further may, perhaps, lead to disagreeableconsequences. The letter written beforehand, to bring me over by areport of your illness, shows that this was no ordinary affair."

  "A fig for the consequences," cried Sir John Slingsby, "if it were toset half the town on fire, I would go on with it. Why, my dearHarriet, am not I a magistrate, one of his majesty's justices of thepeace for the county of ----? Such a conscientious woman as you are,would never have me neglect my solemn duties." And Sir John chuckledwith a low merry laugh, at the new view he chose to take of hisresponsibilities.

  In such conversation the evening went on to its close, the subjectschanging rapidly, for the worthy baronet was not one to adheretenaciously to any particular line of thought, and Mrs. Clifford,but more particularly still her daughter, being anxious to quit thetopic just started as soon as possible. Miss Clifford, indeed, seemedso much agitated and embarrassed, whilst the adventures of thepreceding night were under discussion, that Ned Hayward, who was thekindest-hearted man alive, and not without tact, especially wherewomen were concerned, came zealously to her relief, and engaged her inlow and earnest conversation.

  It was one of those cases in which two people without well knowingwhat they are about, go on puzzling each other, though both may be asfrank as day. They talked of every simple subject which all the worldmight have heard discussed--music, painting, poetry; but yet the wholewas carried on in so low a tone that to any one who did not know themit would have appeared that they were making love. Miss Clifford waspuzzled, perplexed, to make out her companion's character, for shecertainly expected nothing from a man familiarly called Ned Hayward,and more especially from a particular friend of her uncle's, but agay, rattling, good-humoured scapegrace at the best; yet in order togain her full attention, and withdraw her thoughts from a subjectwhich he saw annoyed her, Captain Hayward put off for the time hisusual careless, rapid manner, and spoke with so much feeling and goodtaste, and what is more, good sense also, upon all the many topicsupon which their conversation ran--he showed her that he had read somuch, and thought so much, and felt so much, that she became convincedbefore he had done, of the complete fallacy of all her preconceivednotions of his disposition. Such a change of opinion is always veryfavourable to a man with a woman; for they are such generouscreatures, those women, that if they find they have done oneinjustice, they are sure to go to the opposite extreme, and give uscredit for more than is our due.

  Ned Hayward's puzzle was of a different kind, but it proceeded fromthe same source, namely, an erroneous preconception. He saw that MaryClifford was embarrassed, whenever the subject of the attack upontheir carriage was mentioned, that she changed colour, not from red towhite as would have been the case, had terror had aught to do with it,but from white to red, which is generally a change produced by otheremotions. He therefore set it down as a certain fact, that the fairlady's heart was a little engaged in the transaction; and yet, as theywent on talking in that same low voice, she twice returned to thesubject herself, not without some degree of embarrassment it is true,but still as if she wished to say more, and Ned Hayward thought withsome degree of pique, "Well, my pretty friend, I am not quite oldenough to be made a confidant of yet."

  At length, just as the dessert was being put upon the table, tiresomeSir John Slingsby harped back upon the subject, asking Mr. Beauchampif he thought he could swear to any of the persons concerned; andtaking advantage of a quick and somewhat loud conversation which wenton between those two gentlemen and Dr. Miles, Miss Clifford suddenlybroke through what she was talking of with her companion on the right,and said earnestly, but still almost in a whisper, "Captain Hayward,you rendered me a very great service last night, for which I shallever feel grateful, and it will add immensely to the favour, if youcan prevent my uncle from pursuing the matter in the manner he seemsinclined to do. Particular circumstances, which I may some time havean opportunity of explaining, would render it most painful to me tohave the scandalous outrage which was committed upon us last nightdragged into a court of justice; indeed, I think it would half killme, especially if I had to give evidence, as I suppose would be thecase."

  "I will do my best," answered Ned Hayward, "but you must not be angryor surprised, at any means I may take for that purpose. I could actbetter, indeed, if I knew the circumstances."

  "All I can say at present," answered the young lady, in a low tone,"is, that this was not a case of robbery, as you all seem to suppose."

  The colour mounted into her cheek as she spoke, and she added quickly,"I cannot reproach myself with any thing in the affair, CaptainHayward, although I have scrutinised my own conscience severely; butyet at the same time, even to have my name talked of in connexion withsuch a proceeding, and with such--such a person, would distress memore than I can describe. I will say more another time."

  "In the meanwhile, I will do my best," replied the other, and evenwhile he was speaking, the roll of wheels was heard driving up to thedoor, and a minute or two after, one of the servants entered,announcing that Mr. Wittingham was in the library.

  "Let him stay, let him stay," said Sir John Slingsby, "he'll have anopportunity there of improving his mind. What, what do you say?" hecontinued, as the man whispered something over his shoulder, "we'veneither secrets of state nor high treason here,--speak out."

  "Please you, Sir John, two of Mr. Wittingham's men have brought upStephen Gimlet, whom they call Wolf, with irons upon him. I have kepthim in the hall."

  "Hang it!" cried Ned Hayward, "my little boy's father. I hope he hasnot been doing any serious mischief!"

  "I don't think it, I don't think it," said Dr. Miles, eagerly, "theman has a heart and a conscience, a little warped, it is true; butstill sound--sound, I think--I will go and speak to him."

  "Hang him, he steals my pheasants!" exclaimed Sir John Slingsby.

  "Then why don't you put him to keep them, colonel?" asked Ned Hayward."He would make a capital keeper, I am sure. Set a thief to catch athief, Sir John."

  "Not a bad idea, Ned," answered the baronet. "Stay, stay, doctor, he'snot condemned yet, and so does not want the parson. We had better talkto old Wittingham first. We'll have him in and fuddle him. Give mycompliments to Mr. Wittingham, Matthews, and beg him to walk in. Youneed not go, Harriet. He's quite a lady's man."

  But Mrs. Clifford rose, not at all anxious to witness the process offuddling a magistrate, and withdrew with her daughter and her niece.

 

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