The Lady of Lynn

by Walter Besant

  CHAPTER XLI

  THE FIRST AND THE SECOND CONFEDERATE

  We were now, indeed, although we knew it not, very near the end ofthese troubles.

  I returned with the satisfaction of bringing with me the confession ofthe conspiracy which we had long known. Still, it is one thing to knowof a conspiracy, and quite another thing to have a plain confession byone of the chief conspirators. You may imagine that the poet was notlong in writing out a full and complete confession, and in claimingthe five guineas of my cousin, who took the liberty of reading thedocument, and of witnessing his signature before he gave up the money.

  "Take it, sir," he said, "if to be a villain is to earn a reward offive guineas, you have earned that reward. Take it, Judas Iscariot.Take it, and make a poem on the Wages of Sin if you can."

  "You trample on the weak. I am a worm who cannot turn. Still, sir, ifyou can find honest employment for a pen which adorns all ittouches----"

  "Go, sir. For such as you I have no employment. My poets and authorsmay be poor, but they are honest. Get thee out of my sight."

  I showed the document first to my father and the vicar.

  "So far, well," said the latter. "If proof were needed of a morewicked conspiracy here it is. But in the main thing we are no moreforward than before, Jack. We are not helped by this writing to themystery of the strange woman and her intervention. A strange woman,indeed; she must be--one such as described by the wise king."

  "We shall find her yet. What hold can this spendthrift gamester haveupon the woman--his partner in the crime? Some time or other she willbe tempted to reveal the truth."

  "We know not. Women are not as men. They love the most worthless aswell as the most noble." Lady Anastasia had said the same thing.

  "Love is like the sunshine, my son. It falls upon good and evil alike,and, like the sunshine, it may be wasted, or it may be turned to help.We must not expect to find this woman; we must not count upon herrevenge or her repentance."

  "We shall find her, sir, I am certain that we shall find her. Thespendthrift wastes and scatters with a kind of madness. He will soonfinish all, and will have nothing left for his confederates. You seewhat one confederate has confessed, having been betrayed by hismaster."

  Said the vicar: "The sweet singer of Israel ceases not to proclaim thelesson that all the generations must learn and lay to heart--'I haveseen,' he says, 'the wicked in great power, and spreading himself likea green bay-tree. Yet he passed away, and, lo! he was not. Yea, Isought him, and he could not be found.' Patience, therefore, let ushave patience."

  He fell into a meditation in which I disturbed him not. After a whilehe returned to the business of Sam's written confession, which he heldin his hands.

  "It is remarkable," he said, "how this young man, who from his boyhoodwas a self-deceiver, imagining himself to be somebody, endeavours toplace his conduct in a light flattering to his self-deception. It isevident, abundantly, that he has been guided throughout by twomotives, the one as base as the other. The first is revenge for thewholesome cudgelling which the captain bestowed upon him. It wasadministered, I doubt not, with judicial liberality--even erring onthe side of liberality--and he left in the man's mind that longing forrevenge which belongs to the weaker and the baser sort. See, hewrites, 'Since Captain Crowle was resolved to marry his ward above herstation, I was quite sure that he would be grateful to me for thesignal service which he could in no way effect by his own efforts ofraising her from her humble condition to the rank of countess.' Hethus betrays himself. And as to the second motive, he says, 'A poorman has the right to better himself if he can. It is his duty. I saw away, an unexpected and an honourable way.' Listen to the creature. 'Imade the discovery that my patron, by gambling and raking, had become,as regards his affairs, nothing less than what in a merchant would becalled a bankrupt. That is to say, he had spent all he had, sold allhe could, raised all the money possible on his entailed estates, andbut for his privilege as a peer would now be in a debtor's prison. Yethe contrived to keep his head above water--I found out how, aswell--and still maintained a brave show, though, by reason of his badcharacter, he was not countenanced except by profligates like himself.I therefore laid open to him a way of restoring his affairs. I offeredto introduce him to a great heiress. At first he did not believe thatthere was in any country town an heiress with the fortune that Idescribed to him. But I gave him some proofs and I promised him more.Whereupon I made known my condition. As soon as he was married to thisheiress he was to procure for me, by purchase or by influence, a postunder government worth at least L200 a year, with perquisites, orperhaps a benefice, if I could procure ordination, of which I had nodoubt in thinking of my learning and my character for piety.'"

  "Ho!" said my father, "his learning and his piety!"

  "'My patron is now master of that fortune and is wasting it as fast ashe can in the old courses. He refuses to keep his promise. Nay, hehath sold the last preferment in his gift to the highest bidder. Itwas a rectory of L350 a year.'"

  "This fellow," said the vicar, "knows that his patron is at his lastguinea. He knows him to be a loose liver and a gamester, and he has nohesitation in conspiring to place this innocent girl, by means of hersimple guardian, in the hands of such a man. Yet he whines and thinkshimself ill-used, and a football of fate. Formerly, he thought himselfthe favourite of the Muses. The man is a cur, Jack; he has the cunningand the cowardice and the treachery of a mongrel cur. Take back hisconfession. It may, however, be useful."

  "What about the great discovery concerning the spa?"

  "Why, Jack, it seems as if he drew his bow and shot an arrow at aventure, yet hit the bull's eye. The doctor has a book, in which heinscribes cases of cures effected by the waters of the spa. The bookis well-nigh filled. It is true that this Prince of Liars invented andpretended the discovery of a spa; it is also true, as we cannot butbelieve, that the waters have actually done all that he pretended. He,therefore, unconsciously, seems to have proclaimed the truth. Let thething remain as it is, then. Time will show. The next season's casesand cures will perhaps establish the reputation of the spa on a moresolid basis even than at present."

  Time, as I have already told you, did show, for no one came at all.The spa was neglected in its second season; in the third it wasforgotten; even the pump room was removed, and only the well remained.But the doctor, who was bitterly disappointed with the failure, wasnever informed concerning the true history of the grand discovery.

  It was the perfidy of the chief conspirator to every one who assistedhim which brought about the full exposure of the truth. I have beencareful to let you know at every step the whole truth as we discoveredit afterwards. You have understood the conspiracy from the outset, andthe villainy of all concerned. The woman in the pink silk cloak hasbeen no mystery to you. Perhaps you admire our simplicity in notguessing the truth. Reader, you are young, perhaps; or you have beenyoung. In either case, I am sure that you have experienced the easewith which a woman, lovely, sympathetic, winning, will, with thecombined aid of her beauty, her voice, her witchcraft, so surroundherself with an imaginary air of truth, sincerity and purity, as toexclude all possibility of treachery and falsehood. Lady Anastasia hadallowed me to discover, whether by inadvertence or not, that she wasjealous; but what did I know of feminine jealousy and its powers? Imight have known, perhaps, that jealousy implies love, or, at least,the claim to exclusive possession; but what did I know of the strengthand passion of woman's love? I was young; I was inexperienced; I was asailor, ignorant of many common wiles; I was easily moved by a woman,and I had that universal respect for rank which makes us slow tobelieve that a lady of quality can be treated as if it were possibleto suspect her. By the same rule I should, you will say, be equallyunable to regard Lord Fylingdale with suspicion. But we are not alwaysconsistent with ourselves. Besides, his lordship was a man and not awoman. Rank or no rank, we know that a man is always a man. And, inaddition, he stood between Molly and me.

  I have said that we were near
the end of our troubles. One after theother the victims of Lord Fylingdale's perfidy and of their ownwickedness come over, so to speak, to the other side, impelled by rageand the desire for revenge, and made confession. There were five--Itake them in order. The first was our old friend Sam, whose confessionyou have heard; the second was Colonel Lanyon. Like the poet, he alsofell upon evil days; but, less lucky than Sam, he lost his liberty,and became a prisoner for debt in the King's Bench Prison. When suchan one is arrested and thrown into prison he is in grievous, if not inhopeless case; for, supposing his brothers or cousins to be in aresponsible position, they are ashamed of one who has led the life ofa gamester and a bully and a decoy. They will not help him to beginagain his old life, and if they are like himself, they want all theyhave for their own pleasures--rakes being the most selfish of allmen--and so they will not help him. He wrote, therefore, from hisprison, addressing himself to Captain Crowle as the guardian of thelady for whose capture their snares were set.

  "Sir," he said, "I am a prisoner for debt, lying in the King's Bench,and likely to remain a prisoner for the rest of my life. I havecousins who are prosperous. They refuse to assist me. Yet my detainingcreditors are few and the whole amount is ridiculously small,considering my position and my reputation. That my own cousins shouldrefuse to release me is, I own, a matter which surprises me, for Ihave conferred lustre upon a name hitherto obscure by my gallantry, mybravery, and my many adventures. It is a heartless world. There aremany honest gentlemen in this place, besides myself, who have foundthe world heartless and ungrateful."

  "Humph!" said the vicar, in whose presence the captain began to makeout this surprising letter.

  "My misfortunes are due to no less a person than my Lord Fylingdale, aman whose treachery and ingratitude are not equalled, as far as Iknow, by the history of any villain that was ever hanged."

  "Why," the captain interrupted, "here's a fellow catched in his owntoils. Do you read it, Jack; your eyes are better than mine."

  So I took it. "When I consider not only his conduct towards myself,but his systematic deception towards you, sir, I am moved byindignation to write to you and to expose a plot in which I had ahand, but in ignorance. Sir, I would have you know that for many yearsI have been in the employ of his lordship. It is not an uncommonthing, when an officer is broken and cannot find employment for hissword, to enter the service of some patron, whom he must oblige by allmeans in his power. In return, he is safe from arrest, and must takewhat wages are given him. My own services were those of a decoy to agaming table, in which his lordship held a secret interest, and of aduellist when my sword would be of use. In the former capacity Iserved his lordship for four years faithfully, bringing younggamesters to the table, luring them on, playing high for theirexample, and winning pretended sums for their encouragement. This kindof service is perfectly well known and understood, so that those whoknew that Lord Fylingdale was my patron, knew also that he had aninterest in the bank. On three or four occasions, when my lord'shonour was attacked, or his conduct resented, I went out for him, andin all such cases rendered it impossible for his adversary to continuethe quarrel."

  "So," said the vicar, "the fellow confesses that he is a murderer, ishe?"

  "In the pursuit of his lordship's service I have cheerfully incurredodium that was rightly his. But this kind of odium ends, as I found,by blasting the reputation for honour, even of a most honourable man,such as myself."

  "Ha!" cried the vicar.

  "This odium now follows me everywhere--from Bath to Tunbridge, andfrom Tunbridge to London, so that there are not many gaming-housesinto which I am now suffered to enter, and my company has of latedeclined to the level of the 'prentice and the shopkeeper. I have alsobeen driven off the Heath at Newmarket, charged with corrupting thetrainers; and even at the cockpit I have incurred suspicion as todoctoring the birds. All--all was in the service of my patron."

  "Villain! Villain!" said the vicar.

  "In May last I was ordered by my lord to proceed to Lynn Regis, a townof which I had no knowledge. There was to be a gaming-table, in which,as usual, he was interested. My duty was again to act as decoy. I wasalso, at the same time, to lose no opportunity of representing hislordship as a miracle of virtue. The reason of these orders I did notask. I obeyed, however, although it certainly seemed to me that anypraise of virtue on the part of a gamester like myself would bereceived with suspicion.

  "As regards the performance of my duties at Lynn I say nothing. Theplay was miserably low, in spite of my own example and encouragement.The company considered a guinea a monstrous sum to lose. The bank madenothing to speak of. As regards my own private concerns there was butone man with whom I transacted business worth naming. This, however,was highly satisfactory, for, from this one person, without raisingthe least suspicion, I won as much as L1,200, which was to be raisedupon his estate in the county. Three-fourths of this would go to mylord. I had not made so successful a haul for many years.

  "Now, one morning, after a debauch, much heavy drinking and morelosses, this gentleman, Tom Rising by name, came to me, and confidedto me under the oath of secrecy, his intention of carrying off thatvery night the heiress of Lynn, as she was called. If he succeeded, hewould pay the whole of his losses the very next day. If not, he mustwait until the money could be raised. In order to effect this objecthe would have to go to Norwich; the business would take time. But hewas sure of success. He could not fail. He further described to me theplan he had formed, and the place whither he would carry the girl.

  "By this time I had formed a pretty good guess of my patron'sintention in coming to Lynn. Accordingly I laid the matter beforehim."

  "After an oath of secrecy," said the vicar.

  "He considered a great while, then he said, 'Colonel, this affair mayturn out the most lucky thing that could possibly happen. Be in thecard room in readiness. We will let the fellow go off with the girl,then I shall follow and rescue her. Do you understand?'

  "I understand that he desired the good grace of the lady, and thatsuch a rescue could not fail to procure her favour unless he hadalready obtained it. 'But,' I said, 'this man is a bull for strength.He will fight for the girl, and he will be like a mad bull. It isdangerous.'

  "'I will myself,' he replied, 'undertake to tame this bull. Man, doyou suppose that a master of fence can fear the result of an encounterwith a fellow always half drunk and on this occasion, which makes thething more easy, more than half mad with rage and disappointment.'

  "Sir, you know the rest. The abduction of the lady was knownbeforehand by my lord and myself. He might have stopped it, but thathe wanted the honour and the glory of the rescue."

  "There is no end or limit to the villainy of the pair," said thevicar.

  "The next day, Tom Rising having a sword wound in the right shoulder,I waited upon his lordship. I pointed out that the serious woundinflicted on Mr. Rising had brought his life in danger; that even ifhe recovered, his old friends, who were very angry with him for theattempted abduction, would have no more to do with him; that, from allI had heard, he would with difficulty raise so much money as he owedme upon an estate already dipped; that he had other creditors; andthat one result of the business was that we had possibly lost L1,200or a good part of it, of which one-fourth, or L300, would have been myshare, and I asked my lord, point blank, if he thought I could affordto lose L300.

  "My lord laughed pleasantly. 'Shall a trifle of L300 part two oldfriends, colonel? Not so; not so. When I marry this heiress, not L300,but a thousand shall be yours. Remember, write it down. It is apromise. After my marriage I will give you a clear thousand to repayyour losses and expenses.'

  "This was a promise on which I relied. And you may imagine mysatisfaction when I heard that my lord had been married privately atsix in the morning. I waited on him at once for the money. 'Patience,man,' he said, 'I must first touch it myself. I cannot get at themoney without certain forms. There shall be no needless delay.' So Irefrained.

  "I had been put to heavy e
xpenses by going to Lynn and living there. Ihad to keep up the outward appearance of substance; I threw moneyabout; I ordered bowls of punch; I lost over a hundred pounds inestablishing my credit on a firm basis; I won nothing to speak of,except from Tom Rising. In the end I was publicly insulted and exposedby a vulgar beast called Gizzard, after his low trade. This was in thepresence of Tom Rising himself, who thereupon swore that he would payme nothing. The world is full of men always ready to repudiate theirdebts of honour."

  "It is, indeed," said the vicar, "and of men who do not act inaccordance with the laws of honour."

  "Sir, you will hardly believe me. My lord now refuses to pay even myexpenses. He owes me a thousand pounds promised as my share in thebusiness. I have spent one hundred pounds in establishing my creditand another hundred for my personal expenses--in all, L1,200.

  "Now, sir, I have a proposition to make. I know the dispute about thealleged marriage. I believe there was a personation and that I knowthe woman who personated your deeply-injured ward in the church. Payme L1,200 and I will name her."

  "Softly," said the vicar. "To name the lady is not to prove thepersonation."

  "You cannot hesitate," the letter went on. "Already I am sure my lordhas wasted ten times that sum. I hear from all sides that he is likeone who squanders an inexhaustible treasure. Send me this money and Iwill put you in the way of exposing him to the world as a conspiratorand of putting a stop to further robbery. You shall at least beenabled to save what is left.

  "As you may require a few days to deliberate over this proposal I begyou to let me have by the first opportunity a few guineas in advance.Otherwise I shall have to part with my clothes. In my line of life agood appearance is essential. Should I be driven to that necessity Ishall indeed be ruined for life, because I shall have to go over tothe common side where my accomplishments and skill will be of no usewhatever to me."

  "He means that you cannot get any profit by cheating at play those whohave nothing. Is that all, Jack?"

  "That is all." I folded the letter and gave it to the captain.

  "To name the lady, I say," the vicar repeated, "is not to prove thecrime. It might, however, suggest an explanation to the mystery. Theletter proves that there is an explanation. Still, captain, my opinionis that the writer of this letter should receive no answer. There isno hardship before him which he has not deserved. Let him lie in hisprison and repent. 'Let the wicked be ashamed and let them be silentin the grave. Let the lying lips be put to silence.' Captain, let ushave no traffic with this ungodly man. Let him henceforth be silent inhis grave."