The Lady of Lynn

by Walter Besant

  CHAPTER XXXII

  A RESPITE

  I was as one who carries a respite for a man already in the cart andon his way to Tyburn; or I was one who himself receives a respite onthe way to Tyburn. For, if the charges in those letters were true,there could be no doubt as to the results of an inquiry. Now couldthere be any doubt that Lord Fylingdale, in such a case, would refusean inquiry? I ran, therefore, as if everything depended on my speed,and I arrived breathless.

  Molly was alone walking about the garden restlessly. The sun was nowset, but the glow of the sky lingered, and her face was flushed in thewestern light. "Jack," she cried, "I thought we had parted thisafternoon. What has happened? You have been running. What is it?"

  "A good deal has happened, Molly. For one thing, you will not bemarried to-morrow morning."

  "Why not? Is my lord ill?"

  "Not that I know of. But you will not be married to-morrow morning."

  "You talk in riddles, Jack."

  "Would you like to put off the wedding, Molly?"

  "Alas! If I could put it off altogether! I am down-hearted over it,Jack. It weighs me down like lead. But there is no escape."

  "I think I have in my pocket a means of escape--a respite, atleast--unless there are worse liars in the world than those we have atLynn."

  "Liars at Lynn, Jack? Who are they? Oh, Jack, what has happened?"

  I sat down on a garden bench. "Molly," I said, "you hold the privatecharacter of Lord Fylingdale in the highest esteem, do you not?"

  "There is no better man living. This makes me ashamed of being soloath to marry him."

  "Well, but, Molly, consider. Who hath bestowed this fine characterupon his lordship?"

  "Everybody who knows him--Sam Semple, for one. He is never weary ofsinging the praises of his patron."

  "He is a grateful soul, and, on his own account, a pillar of truth. Iwill show you presently what an ornament he is to truth. Who else?"

  "The Reverend Benjamin Purdon, once his tutor. Surely he ought toknow."

  "Surely. Nobody ought to know better. I will show you presently howadmirable a witness to character this reverend divine must beesteemed."

  "There is Sir Harry Malyns, who assured us that his lordship isthought to be too virtuous for the world of fashion."

  "He is himself, like the parson, a fine judge of character. Is thatall?"

  "No. The Lady Anastasia herself spoke to me of his nobility."

  "She has also spoken to me--of other things. See here, Molly." Ilugged out the two letters. "What I have here contains the charactersof all these excellent persons; the latest scandals about them, theirreputation, and their practices."

  "But, Jack, what scandals? What reputations?"

  "You shall see, Molly. Oh, the allegations may be false, one and all!For what I know, Sam may have the wings of an archangel and Mr. Purdonmay be already overripe for the New Jerusalem. But you shall read."

  I offered her the letters. "No," she said; "read them yourself."

  "The first, then, is from my father's first cousin, ZackaryPentecrosse, a bookseller in Little Britain, which is a part ofLondon. He is, I believe, a respectable, God-fearing man. You willobserve that he does not vouch for the truth of his information."

  I then read, at length, the letter which you have already heard.

  "What do you think, Molly?"

  "I don't know what to think. Is the world so wicked?"

  "Here is another letter concerning the Reverend Benjamin Purdon.Observe that this is another and an independent witness." So I readthe second letter, which you have also heard.

  "What do you think of this worthy gentleman, Molly?"

  "Oh, Jack, I am overwhelmed! Tell me more what it means."

  "It means, my dear, that a ruined gamester thought to find an heiresswho would know nothing of his tarnished reputation. She must be rich.All he wanted was her money. She must not have her money tied up. Itmust be all in his own hands, to do with it what he chose; that is tosay, to dissipate and waste it in riot and raking and gambling."

  "Lord Fylingdale? Jack! Think of his face! Think of his manners! Arethey such as you would expect in a rake?"

  "There are, perhaps, different kinds of rakes. Tom Rising would spendthe night drinking and bawling songs. Another kind would practicewickedness as eagerly, but with more politeness. What do I know ofsuch men? Certain I am that Lord Fylingdale would not scour thestreets and play the Mohock; but that he has found other vices morepleasant and more (apparently) polite is quite possible."

  "I don't understand, Jack. All the gentlemen, like Mr. Rising, drinkand sing. Do all gentlemen who do not drink practice other vices?"

  I think that I must have learned the wisdom of what followed from somebook.

  "Well, Molly, you have seen the vicar taste a glass of wine. He willroll it in the glass; he will hold it to the light, admiring thecolour; he will inhale the fragrance; he will drink it slowly, littleby little, sipping the contents, and he will not take more than asingle glass or two at the most. In the same time, Tom Rising wouldhave gulped down a whole bottle. One man wants to gratify many senses;the other seeks only to get drunk as quickly as he can. So, I take it,with the forbidden pleasures of the world. One man may cultivate histaste; the other may be satisfied with the coarse and plentifuldebauchery. This is not, however, talk for honest folk like you andme."

  "Go on with your story, Jack. Never mind the different ways ofwickedness."

  "Well, he heard of an heiress. She belonged to a town remote fromfashion; a town of simple merchants and sailors; she was very rich;much richer than he at first believed."

  "Who told him about this heiress?"

  "A creature called Sam Semple, whom the captain once cudgelled. Why,Molly, it was revenge. In return for the cudgelling he would place youand your fortune in the hands of a man who would bring misery upon youand ruin on your fortune. Heavens, how the thing works out! And ithappened just in the nick of time that a spring was found in thetown--a spring whose medicinal properties----" "Ha!" I jumped to myfeet. "Molly, who found that spring? Sam Semple. Who wrote to thedoctor about it? Sam Semple. Who spread abroad a report that thephysicians of London were sending their patients to Lynn? Sam Semple.How many patients have come to us from London? None--save and exceptonly the party of those who came secretly in his lordship's train--tosing his praises and work his wicked will. Why, Molly." I burst into alaugh, for now I understood, as one sometimes does understand,suddenly and without proof other than the rapid conclusion, the fullmeaning of the whole. "Molly, I say, there has never been anymedicinal spring here at all; the doctor's well is but common springwater; there are no cures; the whole business is a plan--a bite--aninvention of Sam Semple!"

  "Jack; have a care. How can that be, when the doctor has a long listof cures?"

  "I know not. But I do know that Sam Semple invented the spa in orderto bring down this invasion of sharpers and gamblers and heiresshunters. Oh, what a liar he is! What revenge! What cunning! Whatsignal service has this servant of the devil rendered to his master!"

  Truly, I was carried out of myself by this discovery which explainedeverything.

  "So," I went on, "they came here all the way from London, their lyingexcuse that they were ordered here by their physicians, and we, poorsimple folk, fell into the snare; all the country side fell into thesnare, and we have been fooled into drinking common water and callingit what you please; and we have built gardens and engaged musicians,and created a spa, and--oh, Lord! Lord! what a liar he is! What aliar! This comes, I suppose, of being a poet!"

  Then Molly laid her hand upon my arm. "Jack," she said, veryseriously, "do you really believe this story? Only consider what itmeans to me." Molly was more concerned about Lord Fylingdale thanabout Sam Semple.

  "I believe every word of it, Molly. I believe that they have alljoined in the conspiracy--more or less; that they have all gotpromises; and that to-morrow morning, if you do not refuse to meetthis man in St. Nicholas Church, you will bring u
pon yourself nothingbut misery and ruin."

  "I have promised to meet him. I must at least send him a message, ifonly to say that I shall not come."

  "I should like to send him nothing. But you are right. It is best tobe courteous. Well, you may send him a letter. I will myself take itto the 'Crown.'"

  "But afterwards, Jack. What shall we do afterwards? If he is innocenthe will take offence. If not----"

  "If you were engaged to marry a young merchant, Molly, or to askipper, and you heard rumours of bankruptcy, drink, or evil courses,what would you do?"

  "I would tell him that I had heard such and such about him and Ishould ask for explanations."

  "Then do exactly the same with Lord Fylingdale. He is accused ofcertain things. The captain must make inquiry--he is bound to inquire.Why, the vicar himself says that he would, if necessary, in order toascertain the truth, travel all the way to London, there to learn thefoundations, if any, for these charges, and afterwards intoGloucestershire, where his country mansion stands, to learn on thespot what the tenants and the people of the country know of him."

  "But suppose he refuses explanations. He is too proud to be called toaccount."

  "Then send him packing. Lord or no lord, proud or humble. If hefurnishes explanations--if these things are untrue--then--why, then,you will consider what to do. But, Molly, I do not believe that anyexplanations will be forthcoming, and that your noble lover will carryit off to the end with the same lofty pride and cold mien."

  "Let us go into the parlour, Jack. There are the captain's writingmaterials. Help me to say what is proper. Oh! is it possible? Can Ibelieve it? Are these things true? That proud man raised above hisfellows by his virtues and his rank and his principles. Jack, herisked his life for me."

  "Ask no more questions, Molly. We must have explanations. Let us writethe letter."

  It was Molly's first letter; the only letter, perhaps, that she willever write in all her life. Certainly she had never written onebefore, nor has she ever written one since. Like most housewives, herwriting is only wanted for household accounts, receipts for puddingsand pies, and the labelling of her bottles and jars. I have the letterbefore me at this moment. It is written in a large sprawling hand, andthe spelling is not such as would satisfy my father.

  Naturally she looked to me for advice. I had written many letters tomy owners and to foreign merchants about cargoes and the like, and wastherefore able to advise the composition of a letter which should bejustly expressed and to the point.

  "HONOURED LORD,--This is from me at the present moment in my guardian's parlour. [Writing parlour, you see, when I as mate of the ship should have written port or harbour.] It is to inform you that intelligence has been brought by letters from London and Cambridge. Touching the matters referred to in these letters, I have to report for your satisfaction, that they call your lordship in round terms, a gamester, and a ruined rake; and your companions at the spa, viz, Sam Semple, the parson, the ricketty old beau, and the colonel, simple rogues, common cheats, and sharpers. Shall not, therefore, meet your lordship at the church to-morrow morning as instructed. Awaiting your lordship's explanations and commands.--Your most obedient, humble servant,

  "MOLLY."

  This letter I folded, sealed, addressed, and dropped into my pocket.Then I bade Molly good-night, entreated her to be thankful for herescape, and so left her with a light heart; verily it seemed as if thesadness of the last two months had been wholly and suddenly lifted. Onmy way back to the "Crown" I passed the Lady Anastasia's lodging justas her chair was brought to the house. I opened the door for her andstood hat in hand.

  "Why, it is Jack," she cried. "It is the sailor Jack--the constantlover. Have you anything more to tell me?"

  "Only that Molly will not keep that appointment of to-morrow morning."

  "Oh! That interesting appointment in St. Nicholas Church. May a bodyask why the ceremony has been postponed?"

  "Things have been disclosed at the last moment. Fortunately, in time."

  "What things, and by whom?"

  "By letter. It is stated as a fact well known that Lord Fylingdale isnothing better than a ruined rake and a notorious gamester."

  "Indeed? The excellent Lord Fylingdale? Impossible! Quite impossible!The illustrious example of so many virtues! The explanations will be,I am sure, complete and satisfactory. Ruined? A rake? A notoriousgamester? What next will the world say? Does his lordship know of thisdiscovery? Not yet. You said it was a discovery, did you not? Well, myfriend, I am much obliged to you for telling me. You are quite sureMolly will not be there? Very good of you to tell me. For my own partI start for London quite early--at five o'clock. Good-bye, Jack."

  Then I went in to the "Crown," where I learned that the captain hadbeen reading another letter containing accusations as bad as those inthe other two.

  So we fell to talking over the business, and we congratulated thecaptain that he had sent that letter; and we resolved that he shouldrefuse to receive the villain Sam Semple; and that the vicar should,if necessary, proceed to London, and there learn what he couldconcerning the past history and the present reputation of the noblesuitor. Meantime, I said no more about the intended marriage at St.Nicholas Church and the abandonment of the plan. As things turned out,it would have been far better had I told the captain and had we bothplanted ourselves as sentinels at the door, so as to be quite surethat Molly did not go forth at six in the morning.

  That evening, after leaving me, Lady Anastasia sent a note to LordFylingdale. "I am leaving Lynn early to-morrow morning. I expect to bein London in two days. Shall write to Molly."