After Dark

by Wilkie Collins

  CHAPTER I.

  "Well, Monsieur Guillaume, what is the news this evening?"

  "None that I know of, Monsieur Justin, except that Mademoiselle Rose isto be married to-morrow."

  "Much obliged, my respectable old friend, for so interesting andunexpected a reply to my question. Considering that I am the valet ofMonsieur Danville, who plays the distinguished part of bridegroom inthe little wedding comedy to which you refer, I think I may assure you,without offense, that your news is, so far as I am concerned, of thestalest possible kind. Take a pinch of snuff, Monsieur Guillaume, andexcuse me if I inform you that my question referred to public news, andnot to the private affairs of the two families whose household interestswe have the pleasure of promoting."

  "I don't understand what you mean by such a phrase as promotinghousehold interests, Monsieur Justin. I am the servant of Monsieur LouisTrudaine, who lives here with his sister, Mademoiselle Rose. You arethe servant of Monsieur Danville, whose excellent mother has made upthe match for him with my young lady. As servants, both of us, thepleasantest news we can have any concern with is news that is connectedwith the happiness of our masters. I have nothing to do with publicaffairs; and, being one of the old school, I make it my main object inlife to mind my own business. If our homely domestic politics have nointerests for you, allow me to express my regret, and to wish you a verygood-evening."

  "Pardon me, my dear sir, I have not the slightest respect for theold school, or the least sympathy with people who only mind their ownbusiness. However, I accept your expressions of regret; I reciprocateyour 'Good-evening'; and I trust to find you improved in temper, dress,manners, and appearance the next time I have the honor of meeting you.Adieu, Monsieur Guillaume, and! _Vive la bagatelle!"_

  These scraps of dialogue were interchanged on a lovely summer eveningin the year seventeen hundred and eighty-nine, before the back door ofa small house which stood on the banks of the Seine, about three mileswestward of the city of Rouen. The one speaker was lean, old, crabbedand slovenly; the other was plump, young, oily-mannered and dressed inthe most gorgeous livery costume of the period. The last days of genuinedandyism were then rapidly approaching all over the civilized world; andMonsieur Justin was, in his own way, dressed to perfection, as a livingillustration of the expiring glories of his epoch.

  After the old servant had left him, he occupied himself for a fewminutes in contemplating, superciliously enough, the back view of thelittle house before which he stood. Judging by the windows, it did notcontain more than six or eight rooms in all. Instead of stables andouthouses, there was a conservatory attached to the building on oneside, and a low, long room, built of wood, gayly painted, on the other.One of the windows of this room was left uncurtained and throughit could be seen, on a sort of dresser inside, bottles filled withstrangely-colored liquids oddly-shaped utensils of brass and copper, oneend of a large furnace, and other objects, which plainly proclaimed thatthe apartment was used as a chemical laboratory.

  "Think of our bride's brother amusing himself in such a place as thatwith cooking drugs in saucepans," muttered Monsieur Justin, peeping intothe room. "I am the least particular man in the universe, but I mustsay I wish we were not going to be connected by marriage with an amateurapothecary. Pah! I can smell the place through the window."

  With these words Monsieur Justin turned his back on the laboratory indisgust, and sauntered toward the cliffs overhanging the river.

  Leaving the garden attached to the house, he ascended some gently risingground by a winding path. Arrived at the summit, the whole view of theSeine, with its lovely green islands, its banks fringed with trees, itsgliding boats, and little scattered water-side cottages, opened beforehim. Westward, where the level country appeared beyond the furtherbank of the river, the landscape was all aglow with the crimson of thesetting sun. Eastward, the long shadows and mellow intervening lights,the red glory that quivered on the rippling water, the steady ruby fireglowing on cottage windows that reflected the level sunlight, led theeye onward and onward, along the windings of the Seine, until it restedupon the spires, towers, and broadly-massed houses of Rouen, with thewooded hills rising beyond them for background. Lovely to look on atany time, the view was almost supernaturally beautiful now under thegorgeous evening light that glowed up in it. All its attractions,however, were lost on the valet; he stood yawning with his hands inhis pockets, looking neither to the right nor to the left, but staringstraight before him at a little hollow, beyond which the ground slopedaway smoothly to the brink of the cliff. A bench was placed here, andthree persons--an old lady, a gentleman, and a young girl--were seatedon it, watching the sunset, and by consequence turning their backs onMonsieur Justin. Near them stood two gentlemen, also looking toward theriver and the distant view. These five figures attracted the valet'sattention, to the exclusion of every other object around him.

  "There they are still," he said to himself, discontentedly. "MadameDanville in the same place on the seat; my master, the bridegroom,dutifully next to her; Mademoiselle Rose, the bride, bashfully next tohim; Monsieur Trudaine, the amateur apothecary brother, affectionatelynext to her; and Monsieur Lomaque, our queer land-steward, officially inwaiting on the whole party. There they all are indeed, incomprehensiblywasting their time still in looking at nothing! Yes," continued MonsieurJustin, lifting his eyes wearily, and staring hard, first up the riverat Rouen, then down the river at the setting sun; "yes, plague takethem! looking at nothing, absolutely and positively at nothing, all thiswhile."

  Here Monsieur Justin yawned again, and, returning to the garden, sathimself down in an arbor and resignedly went to sleep.

  If the valet had ventured near the five persons whom he had beenapostrophizing from a distance, and if he had been possessed of somelittle refinement of observation, he could hardly have failed to remarkthat the bride and bridegroom of the morrow, and their companions oneither side, were all, in a greater or less degree, under the influenceof some secret restraint, which affected their conversation, theirgestures, and even the expression of their faces. Madame Danville--ahandsome, richly-dressed old lady, with very bright eyes, and a quick,suspicious manner--looked composedly and happily enough, as long as herattention was fixed on her son. But when she turned from him towardthe bride, a hardly perceptible uneasiness passed over her face--anuneasiness which only deepened to positive distrust and dissatisfactionwhenever she looked toward Mademoiselle Trudaine's brother. In the sameway, her son, who was all smiles and happiness while he was speakingwith his future wife, altered visibly in manner and look exactly as hismother altered, whenever the presence of Monsieur Trudaine speciallyimpressed itself on his attention. Then, again, Lomaque, theland-steward--quiet, sharp, skinny Lomaque, with the submissivemanner, and the red-rimmed eyes--never looked up at his master'sfuture brother-in-law without looking away again rather uneasily, andthoughtfully drilling holes in the grass with his long sharp-pointedcane. Even the bride herself--the pretty, innocent girl, with herchildish shyness of manner--seemed to be affected like the others.Doubt, if not distress, overshadowed her face from time to time, and thehand which her lover held trembled a little, and grew restless, when sheaccidentally caught her brother's eye.

  Strangely enough there was nothing to repel, but, on the contrary,everything to attract in the look and manner of the person whose merepresence seemed to exercise such a curiously constraining influence overthe wedding-party. Louis Trudaine was a remarkably handsome man. Hisexpression was singularly kind and gentle; his manner irresistiblywinning in its frank, manly firmness and composure. His words, when heoccasionally spoke, seemed as unlikely to give offense as his looks;for he only opened his lips in courteous reply to questions directlyaddressed to him. Judging by a latent mournfulness in the tones of hisvoice, and by the sorrowful tenderness which clouded his kind, earnesteyes whenever they rested on his sister, his thoughts were certainly notof the happy or the hopeful kind. But he gave them no direct expression;he intruded his secret sadness, whatever it might be, on
no one of hiscompanions. Nevertheless, modest and self-restrained as he was, therewas evidently some reproving or saddening influence in his presencewhich affected the spirits of every one near him, and darkened the eveof the wedding to bride and bridegroom alike.

  As the sun slowly sank in the heavens, the conversation flagged more andmore. After a long silence, the bridegroom was the first to start a newsubject.

  "Rose, love," he said, "that magnificent sunset is a good omen for ourmarriage; it promises another lovely day to-morrow."

  The bride laughed and blushed.

  "Do you really believe in omens, Charles?" she said.

  "My dear," interposed the old lady, before her son could answer, "ifCharles does believe in omens, it is nothing to laugh at. You will soonknow better, when you are his wife, than to confound him, even in theslightest things, with the common herd of people. All his convictionsare well founded--so well, that if I thought he really did believe inomens, I should most assuredly make up my mind to believe in them too."

  "I beg your pardon, madame," Rose began, tremulously, "I only meant--"

  "My dear child, have you so little knowledge of the world as to supposethat I could be offended--"

  "Let Rose speak," said the young man.

  He turned round petulantly, almost with the air of a spoiled child,to his mother, as he said those words. She had been looking fondly andproudly on him the moment before. Now her eyes wandered disconcertedlyfrom his face; she hesitated an instant with a sudden confusion whichseemed quite foreign to her character, then whispered in his ear,

  "Am I to blame, Charles, for trying to make her worthy of you?"

  Her son took no notice of the question. He only reiterated sharply, "LetRose speak."

  "I really had nothing to say," faltered the young girl, growing more andmore confused.

  "Oh, but you had!"

  There was such an ungracious sharpness in his voice, such an outburst ofpetulance in his manner as he spoke, that his mother gave him a warningtouch on the arm, and whispered "Hush!"

  Monsieur Lomaque, the land-steward, and Monsieur Trudaine, thebrother, both glanced searchingly at the bride, as the words passed thebridegroom's lips. She seemed to be frightened and astonished, ratherthan irritated or hurt. A curious smile puckered up Lomaque's lean face,as he looked demurely down on the ground, and began drilling a freshhole in the turf with the sharp point of his cane. Trudaine turned asidequickly, and, sighing, walked away a few paces; then came back, andseemed about to speak, but Danville interrupted him.

  "Pardon me, Rose," he said; "I am so jealous of even the appearance ofany want of attention toward you, that I was nearly allowing myself tobe irritated about nothing."

  He kissed her hand very gracefully and tenderly as he made his excuse;but there was a latent expression in his eye which was at variancewith the apparent spirit of his action. It was noticed by nobody butobservant and submissive Monsieur Lomaque, who smiled to himself again,and drilled harder than ever at his hole in the grass.

  "I think Monsieur Trudaine was about to speak," said Madame Danville."Perhaps he will have no objection to let us hear what he was going tosay."

  "None, madame," replied Trudaine, politely. "I was about to take uponmyself the blame of Rose's want of respect for believers in omens, byconfessing that I have always encouraged her to laugh at superstitionsof every kind."

  "You a ridiculer of superstitions?" said Danville, turning quicklyon him. "You, who have built a laboratory; you, who are an amateurprofessor of the occult arts of chemistry--a seeker after the Elixir ofLife. On my word of honor, you astonish me!"

  There was an ironical politeness in his voice, look, and manner as hesaid this, which his mother and his land-steward, Monsieur Lomaque,evidently knew how to interpret. The first touched his arm again andwhispered, "Be careful!" the second suddenly grew serious, and left offdrilling his hole in the grass. Rose neither heard the warning of MadameDanville, nor noticed the alteration in Lomaque. She was looking roundat her brother, and was waiting with a bright, affectionate smile tohear his answer. He nodded, as if to reassure her, before he spoke againto Danville.

  "You have rather romantic ideas about experiments in chemistry," hesaid, quietly. "Mine have so little connection with what you call theoccult arts that all the world might see them, if all the world thoughtit worth while. The only Elixirs of Life that I know of are a quietheart and a contented mind. Both those I found, years and years ago,when Rose and I first came to live together in the house yonder."

  He spoke with a quiet sadness in his voice, which meant far more to hissister than the simple words he uttered. Her eyes filled with tears; sheturned for a moment from her lover, and took her brother's hand. "Don'ttalk, Louis, as if you thought you were going to lose your sister,because--" Her lips began to tremble, and she stopped suddenly.

  "More jealous than ever of your taking her away from him!" whisperedMadame Danville in her son's ear. "Hush! don't, for God's sake, take anynotice of it," she added, hurriedly, as he rose from the seat and facedTrudaine with undisguised irritation and impatience in his manner.Before he could speak, the old servant Guillaume made his appearance,and announced that coffee was ready. Madame Danville again said "Hush!"and quickly took one of his arms, while he offered the other to Rose."Charles," said the young girl, amazedly, "how flushed your face is, andhow your arm trembles!"

  He controlled himself in a moment, smiled, and said to her: "Can't youguess why, Rose? I am thinking of to-morrow." While he was speaking, hepassed close by the land-steward, on his way back to the house withthe ladies. The smile returned to Monsieur Lomaque's lean face, and acurious light twinkled in his red-rimmed eyes as he began a fresh holein the grass.

  "Won't you go indoors, and take some coffee?" asked Trudaine, touchingthe land-steward on the arm.

  Monsieur Lomaque started a little and left his cane sticking in theground. "A thousand thanks, monsieur," he said; "may I be allowed tofollow you?"

  "I confess the beauty of the evening makes me a little unwilling toleave this place just yet."

  "Ah! the beauties of Nature--I feel them with you, Monsieur Trudaine;I feel them here." Saying this, Lomaque laid one hand on his heart,and with the other pulled his stick out of the grass. He had looked aslittle at the landscape or the setting sun as Monsieur Justin himself.

  They sat down, side by side, on the empty bench; and then there followedan awkward pause. Submissive Lomaque was too discreet to forget hisplace, and venture on starting a new topic. Trudaine was preoccupied,and disinclined to talk. It was necessary, however, in commonpoliteness, to say something. Hardly attending himself to his own words,he began with a commonplace phrase: "I regret, Monsieur Lomaque, that wehave not had more opportunities of bettering our acquaintance."

  "I feel deeply indebted," rejoined the land-steward, "to the admirableMadame Danville for having chosen me as her escort hither from her son'sestate near Lyons, and having thereby procured for me the honor of thisintroduction." Both Monsieur Lomaque's red-rimmed eyes were seized witha sudden fit of winking, as he made this polite speech. His enemieswere accustomed to say that, whenever he was particularly insincere,or particularly deceitful, he always took refuge in the weakness of hiseyes, and so evaded the trying ordeal of being obliged to look steadilyat the person whom he was speaking with.

  "I was pleased to hear you mention my late father's name, at dinner, interms of high respect," continued Trudaine, resolutely keeping up theconversation. "Did you know him?"

  "I am indirectly indebted to your excellent father," answered theland-steward, "for the very situation which I now hold. At a time whenthe good word of a man of substance and reputation was needed to save mefrom poverty and ruin, your father spoke that word. Since then I have,in my own very small way, succeeded in life, until I have risen to thehonor of superintending the estate of Monsieur Danville."

  "Excuse me, but your way of speaking of your present situation rathersurprises me. Your father, I believe, was a merchant, just as D
anville'sfather was a merchant; the only difference between them was that onefailed and the other realized a large fortune. Why should you speak ofyourself as honored by holding your present place?"

  "Have you never heard?" exclaimed Lomaque, with an appearance ofgreat astonishment, "or can you have heard, and forgotten, that MadameDanville is descended from one of the noble houses of France? Has shenever told you, as she has often told me, that she condescended when shemarried her late husband; and that her great object in life is to getthe title of her family (years since extinct in the male line) settledon her son?"

  "Yes," replied Trudaine; "I remember to have heard something of this,and to have paid no great attention to it at the time, having littlesympathy with such aspirations as you describe. You have lived manyyears in Danville's service, Monsieur Lomaque; have you"--he hesitatedfor a moment, then continued, looking the land-steward full in theface--"have you found him a good and kind master?"

  Lomaque's thin lips seemed to close instinctively at the question, as ifhe were never going to speak again. He bowed--Trudaine waited--he onlybowed again. Trudaine waited a third time. Lomaque looked at his hostwith perfect steadiness for an instant, then his eyes began to get weakagain. "You seem to have some special interest," he quietly remarked,"if I may say so without offense, in asking me that question."

  "I deal frankly, at all hazards, with every one," returned Trudaine;"and stranger as you are, I will deal frankly with you. I acknowledgethat I have an interest in asking that question--the dearest, thetenderest of all interests." At those last words, his voice trembledfor a moment, but he went on firmly; "from the beginning of my sister'sengagement with Danville, I made it my duty not to conceal my ownfeelings; my conscience and my affection for Rose counseled me to becandid to the last, even though my candor should distress or offendothers. When we first made the acquaintance of Madame Danville, andwhen I first discovered that her son's attentions to Rose were notunfavorably received, I felt astonished, and, though it cost me a hardeffort, I did not conceal that astonishment from my sister--"

  Lomaque, who had hitherto been all attention, started here, and threwup his hands in amazement. "Astonished, did I hear you say? Astonished,Monsieur Trudaine, that the attentions of a young gentleman, possessedof all the graces and accomplishments of a highly-bred Frenchman, shouldbe favorably received by a young lady! Astonished that such a dancer,such a singer, such a talker, such a notoriously fascinating ladies' manas Monsieur Danville, should, by dint of respectful assiduity, succeedin making some impression on the heart of Mademoiselle Rose! Oh,Monsieur Trudaine, venerated Monsieur Trudaine, this is almost too muchto credit!"

  Lomaque's eyes grew weaker than ever, and winked incessantly as heuttered this apostrophe. At the end, he threw up his hands again, andblinked inquiringly all round him, in mute appeal to universal nature.

  "When, in the course of time, matters were further advanced," continuedTrudaine, without paying any attention to the interruption; "when theoffer of marriage was made, and when I knew that Rose had in her ownheart accepted it, I objected, and I did not conceal my objections--"

  "Heavens!" interposed Lomaque again, clasping his hands this time witha look of bewilderment; "what objections, what possible objections toa man young and well-bred, with an immense fortune and an uncompromisedcharacter? I have heard of these objections; I know they have made badblood; and I ask myself again and again, what can they be?"

  "God knows I have often tried to dismiss them from my mind as fancifuland absurd," said Trudaine, "and I have always failed. It is impossible,in your presence, that I can describe in detail what my own impressionshave been, from the first, of the master whom you serve. Let it beenough if I confide to you that I cannot, even now, persuade myself ofthe sincerity of his attachment to my sister, and that I feel--inspite of myself, in spite of my earnest desire to put the most implicitconfidence in Rose's choice--a distrust of his character and temper,which now, on the eve of the marriage, amounts to positive terror. Longsecret suffering, doubt, and suspense, wring this confession from me,Monsieur Lomaque, almost unawares, in defiance of caution, in defianceof all the conventionalities of society. You have lived for years underthe same roof with this man; you have seen him in his most unguarded andprivate moments. I tempt you to betray no confidence--I only ask you ifyou can make me happy by telling me that I have been doing your mastergrievous injustice by my opinion of him? I ask you to take my hand,and tell me if you can, in all honor, that my sister is not risking thehappiness of her whole life by giving herself in marriage to Danvilleto-morrow!"

  He held out his hand while he spoke. By some strange chance, Lomaquehappened just at that moment to be looking away toward those beauties ofNature which he admired so greatly. "Really, Monsieur Trudaine, reallysuch an appeal from you, at such a time, amazes me." Having got so far,he stopped and said no more.

  "When we first sat down together here, I had no thought of making thisappeal, no idea of talking to you as I have talked," pursued the other."My words have escaped me, as I told you, almost unawares; you mustmake allowances for them and for me. I cannot expect others, MonsieurLomaque, to appreciate and understand my feelings for Rose. We two havelived alone in the world together; father, mother, kindred, they alldied years since, and left us. I am so much older than my sister that Ihave learned to feel toward her more as a father than as a brother.All my life, all my dearest hopes, all my highest expectations, havecentered in her. I was past the period of my boyhood when my mother putmy little child sister's hand in mine, and said to me on her death-bed:'Louis, be all to her that I have been, for she has no one left to lookto but you.' Since then the loves and ambitions of other men have notbeen my loves or my ambitions. Sister Rose--as we all used to call herin those past days, as I love to call her still--Sister Rose hasbeen the one aim, the one happiness, the one precious trust, the onetreasured reward, of all my life. I have lived in this poor house,in this dull retirement, as in a paradise, because Sister Rose--myinnocent, happy, bright-faced Eve--has lived here with me. Even if thehusband of her choice had been the husband of mine, the necessity ofparting with her would have been the hardest, the bitterest of trials.As it is, thinking what I think, dreading what I dread, judge what myfeelings must be on the eve of her marriage; and know why, and with whatobject, I made the appeal which surprised you a moment since, but whichcannot surprise you now. Speak if you will--I can say no more." Hesighed bitterly; his head dropped on his breast, and the hand which hehad extended to Lomaque trembled as he withdrew it and let it fall athis side.

  The land-steward was not a man accustomed to hesitate, but he hesitatednow. He was not usually at a loss for phrases in which to expresshimself, but he stammered at the very outset of his reply. "Suppose Ianswered," he began, slowly; "suppose I told you that you wronged him,would my testimony really be strong enough to shake opinions, or ratherpresumptions, which have been taking firmer and firmer hold of you formonths and months past? Suppose, on the other hand, that my master hadhis little" (Lomaque hesitated before he pronounced the next word)--"hislittle--infirmities, let me say; but only hypothetically, mindthat--infirmities; and suppose I had observed them, and was willing toconfide them to you, what purpose would such a confidence answer now,at the eleventh hour, with Mademoiselle Rose's heart engaged, with themarriage fixed for to-morrow? No! no! trust me--"

  Trudaine looked up suddenly. "I thank you for reminding me, MonsieurLomaque, that it is too late now to make inquiries, and by consequencetoo late also to trust in others. My sister has chosen; and on thesubject of that choice my lips shall be henceforth sealed. The events ofthe future are with God; whatever they may be, I hope I am strong enoughto bear my part in them with the patience and the courage of a man! Iapologize, Monsieur Lomaque, for having thoughtlessly embarrassed youby questions which I had no right to ask. Let us return to the house--Iwill show you the way."

  Lomaque's lips opened, then closed again; he bowed uneasily, and hissallow complexion whitened for a moment.

&nb
sp; Trudaine led the way in silence back to the house; the land-stewardfollowing slowly at a distance of several paces, and talking in whispersto himself. "His father was the saving of me," muttered Lomaque; "thatis truth, and there is no getting over it; his father was the saving ofme; and yet here am I--no! it's too late!--too late to speak--too lateto act--too late to do anything!"

  Close to the house they were met by the old servant.

  "My young lady has just sent me to call you in to coffee, monsieur,"said Guillaume. "She has kept a cup hot for you, and another cup forMonsieur Lomaque."

  The land-steward started--this time with genuine astonishment. "For me!"he exclaimed. "Mademoiselle Rose has troubled herself to keep a cup ofcoffee hot for me?" The old servant stared; Trudaine stopped and lookedback.

  "What is there so very surprising," he asked, "in such an ordinary actof politeness on my sister's part?"

  "Excuse me, Monsieur Trudaine," answered Lomaque; "you have not passedsuch an existence as mine--you are not a friendless old man--you havea settled position in the world, and are used to be treated withconsideration. I am not. This is the first occasion in my life on whichI find myself an object for the attention of a young lady, and it takesme by surprise. I repeat my excuses; pray let us go in."

  Trudaine made no reply to this curious explanation. He wondered at ita little, however, and he wondered still more when, on enteringthe drawing-room, he saw Lomaque walk straight up to his sister,and--apparently not noticing that Danville was sitting at theharpsichord and singing at the time--address her confusedly andearnestly with a set speech of thanks for his hot cup of coffee. Roselooked perplexed, and half inclined to laugh, as she listened tohim. Madame Danville, who sat by her side, frowned, and tapped theland-steward contemptuously on the arm with her fan.

  "Be so good as to keep silent until my son has done singing," she said.Lomaque made a low bow, and retiring to a table in a corner, took up anewspaper lying on it. If Madame Danville had seen the expression thatcame over his face when he turned away from her, proud as she was, heraristocratic composure might possibly have been a little ruffled.

  Danville had finished his song, had quitted the harpsichord, and wastalking in whispers to his bride; Madame Danville was adding a word tothe conversation every now and then; Trudaine was seated apart at thefar end of the room, thoughtfully reading a letter which he had takenfrom his pocket, when an exclamation from Lomaque, who was still engagedwith the newspaper, caused all the other occupants of the apartment tosuspend their employments and look up.

  "What is it?" asked Danville, impatiently.

  "Shall I be interrupting if I explain?" inquired Lomaque, getting veryweak in the eyes again, as he deferentially addressed himself to MadameDanville.

  "You have already interrupted us," said the old lady, sharply; "so youmay now just as well explain."

  "It is a passage from the _Scientific Intelligence_ which has given megreat delight, and which will be joyful news for every one here." Sayingthis, Lomaque looked significantly at Trudaine, and then read from thenewspaper these lines: