The task that I set the night porter was to find the address of Mr. and Mrs. Cromwell. I told him that they both lived in Mayfair and since the night porter knew many people from the area he suspected that it wouldn't take him long to track down the exact house of James Cromwell and my sister. This was the first part of the task that I had set him.
"I found where they lived, Monsieur. It took me longer than I thought it would because I had to ask many different people if they knew where the husband and wife lived. I even had to ask shopkeepers and store clerks for information," the porter said. He then opened his mouth to continue speaking but I raised my hand to stop him.
"What about the note? Did you deliver the note to Mrs. Cromwell and did she respond to it?" I asked the pointed question.
The note that I spoke of was a letter that I had written to my sister which I wanted to be delivered directly to her. The note didn't contain my real name or the character that I had temporarily shifted into. Instead, I didn’t sign the letter at all and I told the night porter that if the author of the note was asked about then no information about me should be forfeited.
"The servant gave the note to the lady of the house but there was no response given to it," the night porter said.
"Why was there no response given?" I asked perplexed.
I had written the note pretending to be a long-time family friend. I said that business in America had kept me abroad for many years and now I was returning after a twenty-year absence. In the note, I pretended that as a family friend I had seen Alice twice in my life when she was just a young infant and that I was intimately close with her father. I begged Alice to help me find the rest of her family as I had now returned to London and searched for the Underhill's in their former home only to find that they no longer lived there and that the only piece of information about the Underhill family was that Alice had married a wealthy gentleman named Mr. Crowell. I wrote that a quick response to my query would be much appreciated and that I hoped to see her alongside her family at a banquet sometime in the future.
"I'm not sure why there was no response given, but if I had to guess then I can only assume it was because the letter you wrote was not signed and when I was asked who wrote the letter I feigned ignorance and said I did not know."
"Did you speak to Mrs. Cromwell? Did you see that she read the letter?"
The night porter said that he did not see her and that he was not admitted into the house, but was told to wait patiently at the door by the butler who had opened the door to him. This piece of news made me quite angry as I had hoped that this plan of mine would be a fast and easy way to obtain information about my family. It was because of the simplicity and directness of the approach that had made it fail, in my opinion. Of course, no-one would respond to an unsigned letter and willingly give away the whereabouts of their loved ones without confirmation of truth or intent. I was foolish to have thought that it stood a chance of working in the first place.
"Ok," I said. "Here take this for your efforts. Thank you for your help," I handed the night porter some coins which he happily collected in his hands.
"Thank you, Monsieur Levasseur. I hope you have a good time this evening at the theatre and I shall be here on duty when you return. If there is anything else I can do for you, please let me know," the porter responded.
“First, tell me the address of the Cromwell house, as I may go there and visit it myself,” I said to the night porter and he gave me the information that I requested before he exited the hotel.
The fireplace in the lobby was lit when evening came to Mayfair. I stayed and enjoyed the warm glow and crackling sounds being emitted from the fire, but not for very long. Instead of leisurely lounging in the hotel's lobby like I had for the majority of the day, I returned to my room and washed and cleaned myself and put on a clean suit. I then went out to a restaurant and ate by myself before the festivities of the night began.
The theatre that I was graciously given a ticket to was called the 'Theatre Royal' and for anyone who knows anything about London will know that it is a marvellous place. I had been there only once before in my life but it left an amazing impression on me. The first time I had been there I had been with a school colleague and I sat in the cheap seats and watched a poor quality play. Now, I was getting a box seat and watching one of the greatest plays ever created. I was even excited to see Mrs. Campbell and her husband and thank them for their kind gesture and friendship.
When I arrived at Drury Lane, where the theatre was located, I produced my ticket and showed it to an usher that stood at the front of the historic theatre building. He quickly glanced at the ticket and saw that I was a high-calibre guest for the evening's showing of Macbeth so he quickly nodded and kindly asked me to follow him. The usher brought me up a series of stairs and chatted with me about all manner of things luxurious. He then stopped when we were inches away from the boxed seats in the upper tiers of the theatre and he waved his hand to show me where I was to enter to find my box. I thanked him and he wished me a pleasant evening.
In total, I counted that there were seven grand boxes in the theatre. Two of the boxes were much larger and lavish than the others, but they all were a magnificent sight. The box where I was allocated was not one of the lavish boxes but instead a smaller one that was positioned right next to it. When I entered the box I found that I was not alone. There were two other occupants already inside and seated. As I stepped deeper into the box, and closer to the two seated occupants, they turned around and greeted me. I must say that I did not expect the occupants to be who they were. Christopher Campbell and Jane, the girl who I had briefly met in Bath, smiled and greeted me.
"Monsieur Levasseur, I am glad you came. I was not certain that you received the ticket in time or would have cared to see the show," Christopher Campbell said as he stood up to greet me.
"Thank you for the ticket. I have always been a great admirer of William Shakespeare so I am delighted to have the opportunity. I must say that I did not know that it was you that sent the ticket and I thought the generous gift came from your parents," I said as I shook Christopher's hand.
"The tickets were for my family originally, but an untimely death has stopped my parents from being able to attend. When I suggested I go to the theatre and have you as a guest, they couldn't support the idea more. They are fond of you, as you are very much aware."
"There was a death? Please send them my condolences. I do hope it wasn't anyone too close to them, however selfish or bad that sounds."
"No, it was the mother of a distant friend of theirs. In truth, they barely knew the women, but they thought it best for their reputation that they weren't seen out enjoying themselves at such a time."
"I see. Well, perhaps they are right. Send them my regards and my condolences all the same."
"I shall," Christopher said, before pausing. "And you remember the lovely Miss Jane from Ms. Tilney's I assume?"
"Of course I do,” I said to Christopher, and then I turned my attention to Jane. “Miss Jane, it is lovely to see you again. I did not know that you were already in London. I thought you would come later in autumn. I hope the city is treating you well."
Jane stood and bowed slightly to my words. She appeared shy and a little nervous in my presence. I did not know why she would be so anxious because of my being there and I did not want to speculate.
"London has been nice. I am enjoying it so far," Jane replied to me.
"She has enjoyed everything except the weather. Too wet for her she says. I took her along the river this afternoon and she panicked every time there was even a little threat of rain. She is delicate like a sunflower," Christopher's words made Jane blush.
A series of hushes and whispers spread throughout the crowd in the cheap seats on the ground floor. The play was about to begin so Christopher Campbell ushered me to the seat next to him. I sat on the right side of the box, by the edge, with Christopher in the middle and Jane on the left side of the box. Christopher whisper
ed that the conversation we had would be continued during an interval and he said simply that Jane had something she wanted to give me. This piqued my interest and I said I looked forward to finding out what the object was.
As the lights in the theatre were extinguished and the hushes and whispers of the crowd gave way to pure silence, my attention and train of thought turned away from the two people I sat beside in the box and to the production of the play. Actresses came out onto the stage to perform the world-renown first act of the play when three witches appear by a large the cauldron and begin prophesying the fate of Macbeth. I knew the lines that the witches would utter before they said them, but still, I was filled with a sense of joy and wonder as I listened to their words fill the theatre.
I listened and watched intently as each scene and act was played out. The stage design, the delivery of lines from the actors and actresses and the transition between different sets and scenes were all done to perfection. When I had read the play as a student I had envisioned how it would appear on the stage, but seeing it play out before my eyes was a better experience than I ever could have imagined.
When an interval began, the conversation between the three of us recommenced. Christopher again led the discussion. First, we spoke about what we thought of the performance of the play and if the standard had met our expectations. I told Christopher and Jane all my expectations were met and I was thoroughly enjoying the show, and they responded in the same manner and style. After that, we changed the topic of our conversation back to what we had been discussing before the hushes and shushes from the theatre gallery told us to be quiet on account of the play beginning.
"Yes, Jane has something she wants to give you. Originally, she asked me to give it to you when we first organised to meet in London, but I thought that a face-to-face meeting would be better," Christopher Campbell said to me.
"I see. Well, may I ask what it is or ask to see it?" I responded.
"Certainly, it is a thoughtful gift," Christopher said as he turned to Jane, signalling for her to reveal the gift she had for me.
Jane's face brightened at all of the attention and compliments she was receiving. I had seen her face go a similar shade of red in my Aunt Tilney's house when I first met her. Nodding at Christopher, she then made movements and removed some parchment that had been concealed somewhere on her body.
"I hope it pleases you," Jane began. "It was a little rushed and done from memory so I hope you will forgive me if you do not find any similarities between art and real life."
She handed me the rolled up piece of parchment which was securely fastened by a red-coloured piece of string. I unknotted the string and began unrolling the parchment. On the parchment was a sketched portrait picture of myself. The portrait was of William Underhill, not Monsieur Levasseur, and the image was similar to the one that was presented to us at Ms. Tilney's house on the day when we had lunch there. I looked at the sketched picture and then at Jane and then back to the portrait.
"This is the picture of William Underhill, the one from Ms. Tilney's house," I stated.
"Yes. After I heard the story about you travelling to Bath not knowing about his death and the close friendship you shared with him, I thought you should have something to remember him by," Miss Jane responded.
"Isn't that so very sweet and thoughtful of her?" Christopher Campbell added into the conversation.
"Yes, it is. I don't know how to thank you for such a kind gesture. Ms. Tilney let you see the portrait again for this endeavour?" I asked Jane.
"No, I never asked her or spoke to her about the artwork as I saw that she was upset at the very mention of her nephew. I know she tried to act brave and hard-headed as she normally is, but I saw that the topic was a sensitive one to her. I sketched it from memory."
"That is a rare talent to possess, is it not?" Christopher again said, interrupting the ebb and flow of conversation between me and Jane.
"Certainly, if you did it from memory you are very gifted for the resemblance in your sketch is indeed very similar to the portrait which, again, is uncanny to what his real appearance was like. I can only thank you once more for such a kind and thoughtful gift, Miss Jane."
Before Miss Jane could respond to my words of gratitude, Christopher Campbell interrupted. I was fond of the young man, but during this interval, he had taken on qualities similar to his mother and they were not qualities that brought out the best in him.
"Miss Jane thought that she would see a few more pictures of Mr. William Underhill while she was in London and she would be able to get either my parents or Ms. Tilney to post you the parcel when you were back in Paris and had notified them of your address. Though when I told her you were still in London she wanted you to get the picture before you left."
In a matter of minutes, my whole perception of Jane had changed significantly. Also reading between the lines and listening to the words of Christopher Campbell, I saw that the two people before me were smitten with each other. I wondered how Mr. and Mrs. Campbell would feel about the relationship and the possible connection between the two families. When I had spoken to Mr. Campbell in Bath about Jane he had said he liked her but said that she belonged to a different social class and would move in different social circles than the Campbell's belonged. Mr. Campbell had said, almost indignantly, that she would be in London to serve as a teacher.
"Where did you expect to see other pictures of William Underhill in London?" I asked Miss Jane a little perplexed. As far as I was aware, there were no pictures of me hanging about schools or colleges.
"In the house, where I am the governess, I expected to see at least one or two pictures of Mr. Underhill, but there are none," Miss Jane responded.
"She is a governess for two young children, one who has just turned two years old and the other is eight months. Although they are young at the moment, she will care for them and play with them and tend to their education and discipline."
"What family is she the governess of?" I asked. I held my breath fearing that I already knew the answer.
"Mr. and Mrs. Cromwell, Christopher told me you are familiar with them," Miss Jane responded.
"Mrs. Cromwell is the niece of Ms. Tilney and the sister of the late William Underhill. It is Ms. Tilney who got the position as governess for Miss Jane," Christopher stated trying to point out the connection to me.
"I see."
The interval ended and another portion of Macbeth was performed. The timing of the continuation of the performance was a little disappointing as there was much more to be said and much more to be explored on the topic of Jane as the governess for my sister and her two children that I never knew existed. I would be lying if I said that the news did not affect how I watched and enjoyed the rest of the play. I could only partially concentrate on the actors and actresses' outstanding performances, as sections of my mind were now dedicated to the unravelling plot that was my life.
The duration of the second half of the play was approximately one hour and the full duration of the play spanned just over two hours. Some of the fighting scenes were unnecessarily long and some were shorter than I would have expected them to be, but overall the performance was warmly received by the people inside the theatre, and by me.
Despite my difficulty at devoting my full attention to the second part of the play, a lot of it piqued my interest and resonated within me. The ghost of Banquo that haunted the guilty Macbeth was extremely fascinating to me. To see the guilt of Macbeth frighten him and turn him almost crazy like it had done his scheming wife, was almost intoxicating to me.
"That was a scary play," Miss Jane said once the performance was over.
"The witches were eerie, there is no doubt about that," Campbell replied.
The three of us remained in our spectator's box while we waited for people from the poor balcony and ground seats to filter out through the exit doors. The gallery had been full of spectators, so it was agreed that we should sit and wait in the box to avoid queuing or being hass
led by anyone as we made our way out of the theatre.
"May I be so bold to say that you too make a good couple," I said to Christopher Campbell and Miss Jane, while we were waiting patiently in the box.
"What gives you the impression that we are a couple?" Christopher responded.
"I apologise if I presumed wrong, I did not mean any offense by it," I said quickly to try to resolve the situation.
"Are we that obvious?" Miss Jane then asked.
Christopher exhaled and then looked at Miss Jane. He appeared to be disappointed by the fact that she had so quickly given up the charade and admitted the existence of their relationship.
"I just see that you are an agreeable couple, and I can see that you both care a lot for each other."
Christopher Campbell, then in a full confession, told me that he had been infatuated with Miss Jane since they shared a dance at Ramsey's ball in Bath. Throughout the few short weeks that had passed since that time, they sent letters to each other under the guises of different names and they had formed a strong bond with one another. Miss Jane had even gone as far as to cut a lock of her hair off and give it to Christopher as a symbol of her affection for him. Christopher then went on to say that because he did not know of the response his family he would give when they heard the news of the romance, he had kept it secret.
"You know my father and you've heard my mother. They can be sceptical, and difficult and overly judgemental. I feared they wouldn't respect my decision on loving the beautiful Miss Jane."
"I can understand your reasoning, though I am happy to know that you trust me enough to let me know about your secret. I promise both of you, that I shall never mention the details of this relationship to another soul unless you want me to."
"We want you to," Miss Jane and Christopher spoke in unison.
Christopher said that his parents respected Monsieur Levasseur considerably and they often discussed his reputation, manners and intelligence to their two sons. Christopher said that he and Phillip were constantly being compared to the French man by their mother, and Christopher knew that if Monsieur Levasseur had a strong opinion about something, then his opinion would be able to sway the beliefs of Mrs. Campbell.
Revenge of an Englishman Page 16