Wylder's Hand

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by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu


  CHAPTER VIII.

  IN WHICH CAPTAIN LAKE TAKES HIS HAT AND STICK.

  So the young people sitting in the little drawing-room of Redman's farmpursued their dialogue; Rachel Lake had spoken last, and it was thecaptain's turn to speak next.

  'Do you remember Miss Beauchamp, Radie?' he asked rather suddenly, aftera very long pause.

  'Miss Beauchamp? Oh! to be sure; you mean little Caroline; yes, she mustbe quite grown up by this time--five years--she promised to be pretty.What of her?'

  Rachel, very flushed and agitated still, was now trying to speak asusual.

  'She _is_ good-looking--a little coarse some people think,' resumed theyoung man; 'but handsome; black eyes--black hair--rather on a largescale, but certainly handsome. A style I admire rather, though it is notvery refined, nor at all classic. But I like her, and I wish you'd adviseme.' He was talking, after his wont, to the carpet.

  'Oh?' she exclaimed, with a gentle sort of derision.

  'You mean,' he said, looking up for a moment, with a sudden stare, 'shehas got money. Of course she has; I could not afford to admire her if shehad not; but I see you are not just now in a mood to trouble yourselfabout my nonsense--we can talk about it to-morrow; and tell me now, howdo you get on with the Brandon people?'

  Rachel was curious, and would, if she could, have recalled that sarcastic'oh' which had postponed the story; but she was also a little angry, andwith anger there was pride, which would not stoop to ask for therevelation which he chose to defer; so she said, 'Dorcas and I are verygood friends; but I don't know very well what to make of her. Only Idon't think she's quite so dull and apathetic as I at first supposed; butstill I'm puzzled. She is either absolutely uninteresting, or veryinteresting indeed, and I can't say which.'

  'Does she like you?' he asked.

  'I really don't know. She tolerates me, like everything else; and I don'tflatter her; and we see a good deal of one another upon those terms, andI have no complaint to make of her. She has some aversions, but noquarrels; and has a sort of laziness--mental, bodily, and moral--that issublime, but provoking; and sometimes I admire her, and sometimes Idespise her; and I do not yet know which feeling is the juster.'

  'Surely she is woman enough to be fussed a little about her marriage?'

  'Oh, dear, no! she takes the whole affair with a queenlike andsupernatural indifference. She is either a fool or a very greatphilosopher, and there is something grand in the serene obscurity thatenvelopes her,' and Rachel laughed a very little.

  'I must, I suppose, pay my respects; but to-morrow will be time enough.What pretty little tea-cups, Radie--quite charming--old cock china, isn'tit? These were Aunt Jemima's, I think.'

  'Yes; they used to stand on the little marble table between the windows.'

  Old Tamar had glided in while they here talking, and placed the littletea equipage on the table unnoticed, and the captain was sipping his cupof tea, and inspecting the pattern, while his sister amused him.

  'This place, I suppose, is confoundedly slow, is not it? Do theyentertain the neighbours ever at Brandon?'

  'Sometimes, when old Lady Chelford and her son are staying there.'

  'But the neighbours can't entertain them, I fancy, or you. What a drearything a dinner party made up of such people must be--like "Aesop'sFables," where the cows and sheep converse.'

  'And sometimes a wolf or a fox,' she said.

  'Well, Radie, I know you mean me; but as you wish it, I'll carry my fangselsewhere;--and what has become of Will Wylder?'

  'Oh! he's in the Church!'

  'Quite right--the only thing he was fit for;' and Captain Lake laughedlike a man who enjoys a joke slily. 'And where is poor Billy quartered?'

  'Not quite half a mile away; he has got the vicarage of Naunton Friars.'

  'Oh, then, Will is not quite such a fool as we took him for.'

  'It is worth just L180 a year! but he's very far from a fool.'

  'Yes, of course, he knows Greek poets and Latin fathers, and all the restof it. I don't mean he ever was plucked. I dare say he's the kind offellow _you'd_ like very well, Radie.' And his sly eyes had a twinkle inthem which seemed to say, 'Perhaps I've divined your secret.'

  'And so I do, and I like his wife, too, _very_ much.'

  'His wife! So William has married on L180 a year;' and the captainlaughed quietly but very pleasantly again.

  'On a very little more, at all events; and I think they are about thehappiest, and I'm sure they are the best people in this part of theworld.'

  'Well, Radie, I'll see you to-morrow again. You preserve your good lookswonderfully. I wonder you haven't become an old woman here.'

  And he kissed her, and went his way, with a slight wave of his hand, andhis odd smile, as he closed the little garden gate after him.

  He turned to his left, walking down towards the town, and the innocentgreen trees hid him quickly, and the gush and tinkle of the clear brookrose faint and pleasantly through the leaves, from the depths of theglen, and refreshed her ear after his unpleasant talk.

  She was flushed, and felt oddly; a little stunned and strange, althoughshe had talked lightly and easily enough.

  'I forgot to ask him where he is staying: the Brandon Arms, I suppose. Idon't at all like his coming down here after Mark Wylder; what _can_ hemean? He certainly never would have taken the trouble for _me_. What_can_ he want of Mark Wylder? I think _he_ knew old Mr. Beauchamp. He maybe a trustee, but that's not likely; Mark Wylder was not the person forany such office. I hope Stanley does not intend trying to extract moneyfrom him; anything rather than that degradation--than that _villainy_.Stanley was always impracticable, perverse, deceitful, and so foolishwith all his cunning and suspicion--so _very_ foolish. Poor Stanley. He'sso unscrupulous; I don't know what to think. He said he could force MarkWylder to leave the country. It must be some bad secret. If he tries andfails, I suppose he will be ruined. I don't know what to think; I neverwas so uneasy. He will blast himself, and disgrace all connected withhim; and it is quite useless speaking to him.'

  Perhaps if Rachel Lake had been in Belgravia, leading a town life, thematter would have taken no such dark colouring and portentousproportions. But living in a small old house, in a dark glen, with nocompanion, and little to occupy her, it was different.

  She looked down the silent way he had so lately taken, and repeated,rather bitterly, 'My only brother! my only brother! my only brother!'

  That young lady was not quite a pauper, though she may have thought so.Comparatively, indeed, she was; but not, I venture to think, absolutely.She had just that symmetrical three hundred pounds a year, which thefamous Dean of St. Patrick's tells us he so 'often wished that he hadclear.' She had had some money in the Funds besides, still moreinsignificant but this her Brother Stanley had borrowed and beggedpiecemeal, and the Consols were no more. But though something of a nun inher way of life, there was no germ of the old maid in her, and money wasnot often in her thoughts. It was not a bad _dot_; and her BrotherStanley had about twice as much, and therefore was much better off thanmany a younger son of a duke. But these young people, after the manner ofmen were spited with fortune; and indeed they had some cause. Old GeneralLake had once had more than ten thousand pounds a year, and lived, untilthe crash came, in the style of a vicious old prince. It was a greatbreak up, and a worse fall for Rachel than for her brother, when theplate, coaches, pictures, and all the valuable effects' of old Tiberiuswent to the hammer, and he himself vanished from his clubs and otherhaunts, and lived only--a thin intermittent rumour--surmised to be ingaol, or in Guernsey, and quite forgotten soon, and a little lateractually dead and buried.

 

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