CHAPTER II.
WHEN the two months had passed we returned to Darrock Hall. Nobody therehad received any news in our absence of the whereabouts of my master andhis yacht.
Six more weary weeks elapsed, and in that time but one event happenedat the Hall to vary the dismal monotony of the lives we now led inthe solitary place. One morning Josephine came down after dressing mymistress with her face downright livid to look at, except on one check,where there was a mark as red as burning fire. I was in the kitchen atthe time, and I asked what was the matter.
"The matter!" says she, in her shrill voice and her half-foreignEnglish. "Use your own eyes, if you please, and look at this cheek ofmine. What! have you lived so long a time with your mistress, and don'tyou know the mark of her hand yet?"
I was at a loss to understand what she meant, but she soon explainedherself. My mistress, whose temper had been sadly altered for the worseby the trials and humiliations she had gone through, had got up thatmorning more out of humor than usual, and, in answer to her maid'sinquiry as to how she had passed the night, had begun talking abouther weary, miserable life in an unusually fretful and desperateway. Josephine, in trying to cheer her spirits, had ventured, mostimproperly, on making a light, jesting reference to Mr. Meeke, which hadso enraged my mistress that she turned round sharp on the half-breed andgave her--to use the common phrase--a smart box on the ear. Josephineconfessed that, the moment after she had done this, her better senseappeared to tell her that she had taken a most improper way of resentingundue familiarity. She had immediately expressed her regret for havingforgotten herself, and had proved the sincerity of it by a gift of halfa dozen cambric handkerchiefs, presented as a peace-offering on thespot. After that I thought it impossible that Josephine could bear anymalice against a mistress whom she had served ever since she had beena girl, and I said as much to her when she had done telling me what hadhappened upstairs.
"I! Malice!" cries Miss Josephine, in her hard, sharp, snappish way."And why, and wherefore, if you please? If my mistress smacks my cheekwith one hand, she gives me handkerchiefs to wipe it with the other.My good mistress, my kind mistress, my pretty mistress! I, the servant,bear malice against her, the mistress! Ah! you bad man, even to think ofsuch a thing! Ah! fie, fie! I am quite ashamed of you!"
She gave me one look--the wickedest look I ever saw, and burst outlaughing--the harshest laugh I ever heard from a woman's lips. Turningaway from me directly after, she said no more, and never referred to thesubject again on any subsequent occasion.
From that time, however, I noticed an alteration in Miss Josephine;not in her way of doing her work, for she was just as sharp and carefulabout it as ever, but in her manners and habits. She grew amazinglyquiet, and passed almost all her leisure time alone. I could bring nocharge against her which authorized me to speak a word of warning;but, for all that, I could not help feeling that if I had been in mymistress's place, I would have followed up the present of the cambrichandkerchiefs by paying her a month's wages in advance, and sending heraway from the house the same evening.
With the exception of this little domestic matter, which appearedtrifling enough at the time, but which led to very serious consequencesafterward, nothing happened at all out of the ordinary way duringthe six weary weeks to which I have referred. At the beginning of theseventh week, however, an event occurred at last.
One morning the postman brought a letter to the Hall addressed to mymistress. I took it upstairs, and looked at the direction as I put it onthe salver. The handwriting was not my master's; was not, as it appearedto me, the handwriting of any well-educated person. The outside of theletter was also very dirty, and the seal a common office-seal of theusual lattice-work pattern. "This must be a begging-letter," I thoughtto myself as I entered the breakfast-room and advanced with it to mymistress.
She held up her hand before she opened it as a sign to me that she hadsome order to give, and that I was not to leave the room till I hadreceived it. Then she broke the seal and began to read the letter.
Her eyes had hardly been on it a moment before her face turned as paleas death, and the paper began to tremble in her fingers. She read on tothe end, and suddenly turned from pale to scarlet, started out of herchair, crumpled the letter up violently in her hand, and took severalturns backward and forward in the room, without seeming to notice me asI stood by the door. "You villain! you villain! you villain!" I heardher whisper to herself many times over, in a quick, hissing, fierceway. Then she stopped, and said on a sudden, "Can it be true?" Then shelooked up, and, seeing me standing at the door, started as if I had beena stranger, changed color again, and told me, in a stifled voice, toleave her and come back again in half an hour. I obeyed, feeling certainthat she must have received some very bad news of her husband, andwondering, anxiously enough, what it might be.
When I returned to the breakfast-room her face was as much discomposedas ever. Without speaking a word she handed me two sealed letters: one,a note to be left for Mr. Meeke at the parsonage; the other, a lettermarked "Immediate," and addressed to her solicitor in London, who wasalso, I should add, her nearest living relative.
I left one of these letters and posted the other. When I came back Iheard that my mistress had taken to her room. She remained there forfour days, keeping her new sorrow, whatever it was, strictly to herself.On the fifth day the lawyer from London arrived at the Hall. My mistresswent down to him in the library, and was shut up there with him fornearly two hours. At the end of that time the bell rang for me.
"Sit down, William," said my mistress, when I came into the room. "Ifeel such entire confidence in your fidelity and attachment that I amabout, with the full concurrence of this gentleman, who is my nearestrelative and my legal adviser, to place a very serious secret in yourkeeping, and to employ your services on a matter which is as importantto me as a matter of life and death."
Her poor eyes were very red, and her lips quivered as she spoke to me.I was so startled by what she had said that I hardly knew which chair tosit in. She pointed to one placed near herself at the table, and seemedabout to speak to me again, when the lawyer interfered.
"Let me entreat you," he said, "not to agitate yourself unnecessarily.I will put this person in possession of the facts, and, if I omitanything, you shall stop me and set me right."
My mistress leaned back in her chair and covered her face with herhandkerchief. The lawyer waited a moment, and then addressed himself tome.
"You are already aware," he said, "of the circumstances under whichyour master left this house, and you also know, I have no doubt, that nodirect news of him has reached your mistress up to this time?"
I bowed to him and said I knew of the circumstances so far.
"Do you remember," he went on, "taking a letter to your mistress fivedays ago?"
"Yes, sir," I replied; "a letter which seemed to distress and alarm hervery seriously."
"I will read you that letter before we say any more," continued thelawyer. "I warn you beforehand that it contains a terrible chargeagainst your master, which, however, is not attested by the writer'ssignature. I have already told your mistress that she must not attachtoo much importance to an anonymous letter; and I now tell you the samething."
Saying that, he took up a letter from the table and read it aloud. I hada copy of it given to me afterward, which I looked at often enough tofix the contents of the letter in my memory. I can now repeat them, Ithink, word for word.
"MADAM--I cannot reconcile it to my conscience to leave you in totalignorance of your husband's atrocious conduct toward you. If you haveever been disposed to regret his absence do so no longer. Hope and pray,rather, that you and he may never meet face to face again in this world.I write in great haste and in great fear of being observed. Time failsme to prepare you as you ought to be prepared for what I have now todisclose. I must tell you plainly, with much respect for you and sorrowfor your misfortune, that your husband _has married another wife_. I sawthe ceremony performed, unknown to him.
If I could not have spoken ofthis infamous act as an eye-witness, I would not have spoken of it atall.
"I dare not acknowledge who I am, for I believe Mr. James Smithwould stick at no crime to revenge himself on me if he ever came to aknowledge of the step I am now taking, and of the means by which I gotmy information; neither have I time to enter into particulars. I simplywarn you of what has happened, and leave you to act on that warning asyou please. You may disbelieve this letter, because it is not signed byany name. In that case, if Mr. James Smith should ever venture into yourpresence, I recommend you to ask him suddenly what he has done with his_new wife,_ and to see if his countenance does not immediately testifythat the truth has been spoken by
"YOUR UNKNOWN FRIEND."
Poor as my opinion was of my master, I had never believed him to becapable of such villainy as this, and I could not believe it when thelawyer had done reading the letter.
"Oh, sir," I said, "surely that is some base imposition? Surely itcannot be true?"
"That is what I have told your mistress," he answered. "But she says inreturn--"
"That I feel it to be true," my mistress broke in, speaking behind thehandkerchief in a faint, smothered voice.
"We need not debate the question," the lawyer went on. "Our business nowis to prove the truth or falsehood of this letter. That must be doneat once. I have written to one of my clerks, who is accustomed toconducting delicate investigations, to come to this house without lossof time. He is to be trusted with anything, and he will pursue theneedful inquiries immediately.
"It is absolutely necessary, to make sure of committing no mistakes, thathe should be accompanied by some one who is well acquainted with Mr.James Smith's habits and personal appearance, and your mistress hasfixed upon you to be that person. However well the inquiry is managed,it may be attended by much trouble and delay, may necessitate a longjourney, and may involve some personal danger. Are you," said thelawyer, looking hard at me, "ready to suffer any inconvenience and torun any risk for your mistress's sake?"
"There is nothing I _can_ do, sir," said I, "that I will not do. I amafraid I am not clever enough to be of much use; but, so far as troublesand risks are concerned, I am ready for anything from this moment."
My mistress took the handkerchief from her face, looked at me with hereyes full of tears, and held out her hand. How I came to do it I don'tknow, but I stooped down and kissed the hand she offered me, feelinghalf startled, half ashamed at my own boldness the moment after.
"You will do, my man," said the lawyer, nodding his head. "Don't troubleyourself about the cleverness or the cunning that may be wanted. Myclerk has got head enough for two. I have only one word more to saybefore you go downstairs again. Remember that this investigation and thecause that leads to it must be kept a profound secret. Except us three,and the clergyman here (to whom your mistress has written word of whathas happened), nobody knows anything about it. I will let my clerk intothe secret when he joins us. As soon as you and he are away from thehouse, you may talk about it. Until then, you will close your lips onthe subject."
The clerk did not keep us long waiting. He came as fast as the mail fromLondon could bring him.
I had expected, from his master's description, to see a serious, sedateman, rather sly in his looks, and rather reserved in his manner. To myamazement, this practiced hand at delicate investigations was a brisk,plump, jolly little man, with a comfortable double chin, a pair of verybright black eyes, and a big bottle-nose of the true groggy red color.He wore a suit of black, and a limp, dingy white cravat; took snuffperpetually out of a very large box; walked with his hands crossedbehind his back; and looked, upon the whole, much more like a parson offree-and-easy habits than a lawyer's clerk.
"How d'ye do?" says he, when I opened the door to him. "I'm the man youexpect from the office in London. Just say Mr. Dark, will you? I'll sitdown here till you come back; and, young man, if there is such a thingas a glass of ale in the house, I don't mind committing myself so far asto say that I'll drink it."
I got him the ale before I announced him. He winked at me as he put itto his lips.
"Your good health," says he. "I like you. Don't forget that the name'sDark; and just leave the jug and glass, will you, in case my masterkeeps me waiting."
I announced him at once, and was told to show him into the library.
When I got back to the hall the jug was empty, and Mr. Dark wascomforting himself with a pinch of snuff, snorting over it like aperfect grampus. He had swallowed more than a pint of the strongest oldale in the house; and, for all the effect it seemed to have had on him,he might just as well have been drinking so much water.
As I led him along the passage to the library Josephine passed us. Mr.Dark winked at me again, and made her a low bow.
"Lady's maid," I heard him whisper to himself. "A fine woman to look at,but a damned bad one to deal with." I turned round on him, ratherangry at his cool ways, and looked hard at him just before I opened thelibrary door. Mr. Dark looked hard at me. "All right," says he. "I canshow myself in." And he knocks at the door, and opens it, and goes inwith another wicked wink, all in a moment.
Half an hour later the bell rang for me. Mr. Dark was sitting between mymistress (who was looking at him in amazement) and the lawyer (who waslooking at him with approval). He had a map open on his knee, and a penin his hand. Judging by his face, the communication of the secret aboutmy master did not seem to have made the smallest impression on him.
"I've got leave to ask you a question," says he, the moment I appeared."When you found your master's yacht gone, did you hear which way shehad sailed? Was it northward toward Scotland? Speak up, young man, speakup!"
"Yes," I answered. "The boatmen told me that when I made inquiries atthe harbor."
"Well, sir," says Mr. Dark, turning to the lawyer, "if he said he wasgoing to Sweden, he seems to have started on the road to it, at allevents. I think I have got my instructions now?"
The lawyer nodded, and looked at my mistress, who bowed her head to him.He then said, turning to me:
"Pack up your bag for traveling at once, and have a conveyance got readyto go to the nearest post-town. Look sharp, young man--look sharp!"
"And, whatever happens in the future," added my mistress, her kind voicetrembling a little, "believe, William, that I shall never forget theproof you now show of your devotion to me. It is still some comfort toknow that I have your fidelity to depend on in this dreadful trial--yourfidelity and the extraordinary intelligence and experience of Mr. Dark."
Mr. Dark did not seem to hear the compliment. He was busy writing, withhis paper upon the map on his knee.
A quarter of an hour later, when I had ordered the dog-cart, and had gotdown into the hall with my bag packed, I found him there waiting forme. He was sitting in the same chair which he had occupied when he firstarrived, and he had another jug of the old ale on the table by his side.
"Got any fishing-rods in the house?" says he, when I put my bag down inthe hall.
"Yes," I replied, astonished at the question. "What do you want withthem?"
"Pack a couple in cases for traveling," says Mr. Dark, "with lines, andhooks, and fly-books all complete. Have a drop of the ale before yougo--and don't stare, William, don't stare. I'll let the light in on youas soon as we are out of the house. Off with you for the rods! I want tobe on the road in five minutes."
When I came back with the rods and tackle I found Mr. Dark in thedog-cart.
"Money, luggage, fishing-rods, papers of directions, copy of anonymousletter, guide-book, map," says he, running over in his mind the thingswanted for the journey--"all right so far. Drive off."
I took the reins and started the horse. As we left the house I saw mymistress and Josephine looking after us from two of the windows on thesecond floor. The memory of those two attentive faces--one so fair andso good, the other so yellow and so wicked--haunted my mind perpetuallyfor many days afterward.
"Now, William," says Mr. Dark, when we were cl
ear of the lodge gates,"I'm going to begin by telling you that you must step out of yourown character till further notice. You are a clerk in a bank, and I'manother. We have got our regular holiday, that comes, like Christmas,once a year, and we are taking a little tour in Scotland to see thecuriosities, and to breathe the sea air, and to get some fishingwhenever we can. I'm the fat cashier who digs holes in a drawerful ofgold with a copper shovel, and you're the arithmetical young man whosits on a perch behind me and keeps the books. Scotland's a beautifulcountry, William. Can you make whisky-toddy? I can; and, what's more,unlikely as the thing may seem to you, I can actually drink it into thebargain."
"Scotland!" says I. "What are we going to Scotland for?"
"Question for question," says Mr. Dark. "What are we starting on ajourney for?"
"To find my master," I answered, "and to make sure if the letter abouthim is true."
"Very good," says he. "How would you set about doing that, eh?"
"I should go and ask about him at Stockholm in Sweden, where he said hisletters were to be sent."
"Should you, indeed?" says Mr. Dark. "If you were a shepherd, William,and had lost a sheep in Cumberland, would you begin looking for it atthe Land's End, or would you try a little nearer home?"
"You're attempting to make a fool of me now," says I.
"No," says Mr. Dark, "I'm only letting the light in on you, as I saidI would. Now listen to reason, William, and profit by it as much as youcan. Mr. James Smith says he is going on a cruise to Sweden, and makeshis word good, at the beginning, by starting northward toward the coastof Scotland. What does he go in? A yacht. Do yachts carry live beastsand a butcher on board? No. Will joints of meat keep fresh all theway from Cumberland to Sweden? No. Do gentlemen like living on saltprovisions? No. What follows from these three Noes? That Mr. JamesSmith must have stopped somewhere on the way to Sweden to supply hissea-larder with fresh provisions. Where, in that case, must he stop?Somewhere in Scotland, supposing he didn't alter his course when he wasout of sight of your seaport. Where in Scotland? Northward on the mainland, or westward at one of the islands? Most likely on the main land,where the seaside places are largest, and where he is sure of gettingall the stores he wants. Next, what is our business? Not to risk losinga link in the chain of evidence by missing any place where he has puthis foot on shore. Not to overshoot the mark when we want to hit it inthe bull's-eye. Not to waste money and time by taking a long trip toSweden till we know that we must absolutely go there. Where is ourjourney of discovery to take us to first, then? Clearly to the northof Scotland. What do you say to that, Mr. William? Is my catechism allcorrect, or has your strong ale muddled my head?"
It was evident by this time that no ale could do that, and I told himso. He chuckled, winked at me, and, taking another pinch of snuff, saidhe would now turn the whole case over in his mind again, and make surethat he had got all the bearings of it quite clear.
By the time we reached the post-town he had accomplished this mentaleffort to his own perfect satisfaction, and was quite ready to comparethe ale at the inn with the ale at Darrock Hall. The dog-cart was leftto be taken back the next morning by the hostler. A post-chaise andhorses were ordered out. A loaf of bread, a Bologna sausage, and twobottles of sherry were put into the pockets of the carriage; we took ourseats, and started briskly on our doubtful journey.
"One word more of friendly advice," says Mr. Dark, settling himselfcomfortably in his corner of the carriage. "Take your sleep, William,whenever you feel that you can get it. You won't find yourself in bedagain till we get to Glasgow."
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