CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
_Pal_. Thou art a traitor, Arcite, and a fellow False as thy title to her. Friendship, blood, And all the ties between us, I disclaim. _Arc_. You are mad. _Pal_. I must be, Till thou art worthy, Arcite; it concerns me! And, in this madness, if I hazard thee And take thy life, I deal but truly. _Arc_. Fie, sir! BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.
We quitted Paris two days after; and a journey of three days, through anuninteresting country, brought us to the little town of Granville, onthe sea-coast, in the Channel. We remained at this delightful placesome days; and our letters being regularly forwarded to us, brought usintelligence from England. My father expressed his astonishment at myreturning the money drawn for; and trusted, unaccountable as therestitution appeared, that I was not offended, and would consider him mybanker, as far as his expenditure and style of living would permit himto advance.
Eugenia, in her letters, reproached herself for having written to me;and concluded that I had drawn so largely upon her merely to prove hersincerity. She assured me, that her caution to me was not dictated byselfishness, but from a consideration for the child.
Clara's letter informed me that every attempt, even to servility, hadbeen made in order to induce Emily to alter her determination, butwithout success; and that a coolness had in consequence taken place, andalmost an entire interruption of the intimacy between the families. Shealso added, "I am afraid that your friend is even worse than yourself;for I understand that he is engaged to another woman, and has been sofor years. Now, as I must consider that the great tie of your intimacyis his supposed partiality to me, and as I conceive you are under afalse impression with respect to his sincerity, I think it my duty tomake you acquainted with all I know. It is impossible that you canesteem the man who has trifled with the feelings of your sister; and Isincerely hope that the next letter from you will inform me of yourhaving separated."
How little did poor Clara think, when she wrote this letter, of theconsequences likely to arise from it; that in thus venting hercomplaints, she was exploding a mine which was to produce results tentimes more fatal than anything which had yet befallen us!
I was at this period in a misanthropic state of mind, hating myself andeveryone about me. The company of Talbot had long been endured, notenjoyed; and I would gladly have availed myself of any plausible excusefor a separation. True, he was my friend, had proved himself so; but Iwas in no humour to acknowledge favours. Discarded by her I loved, Idiscarded every one else. Talbot was a log and a chain, and I thought Icould not get rid of him too soon. This letter, therefore, gave me afair opportunity of venting my spleen; but instead of a cool dismissal,as Clara requested, I determined to dismiss him or myself to anotherworld.
Having finished reading my letter, I laid it down, and made noobservation. Talbot, with his usual kind and benevolent countenance,inquired if I had any news? "Yes," I replied, "I have discovered thatyou are a villain!"
"That is news indeed," said he; "and strange that the brother of Clarashould have been the messenger to convey it; but this is language,Frank, which not even your unhappy state of mind can excuse. Retractyour words."
"I repeat them," said I. "You have trifled with my sister, and are avillain." (Had this been true, it was no more than I had done myself;but my victims had no brothers to avenge their wrongs.)
"The name of Clara," replied Talbot, "calms me: believe me, Frank, youare mistaken. I love her, and have always had the most honourableintentions towards her."
"Yes," said I, with a sarcastic sneer, "at the time that you have beenengaged to another woman for years. To one or the other you mustacknowledge yourself a scoundrel: I do not, therefore, withdraw myappellation, but repeat it; and as you seem so very patient underinjuries, I inform you that you must either meet me on the sands thisevening, or consent to be stigmatised with another name still morerevolting to the feelings of an Englishman."
"Enough, enough, Frank," said Talbot, with a face in which consciousinnocence and manly fortitude were blended. "You have said more than Iever expected to have heard from you, and more than the customs of theworld will allow me to put up with. What must be, must; but I stilltell you, Frank, that you are wrong, that you are fatally deluded, andthat you will bitterly repent the follies of this day. It is yourselfwith whom you are angry, and you are venting that anger on your friend."
The words were thrown away on me. I felt a secret malignant pleasure,which blindly impelled me forward, with the certainty of glutting myrevenge, by either destroying or being destroyed. My sole preparationfor this dreadful conflict was my pistols; no other did I, think of, noteven the chances of sending my friend and fellow-mortal, or goingmyself, into the presence of an Almighty Judge. My mind was absorbed insecret pleasure at the idea of that acute misery which Emily wouldsuffer if I fell by the hand of Talbot.
I repaired to the rendezvous, where I found Talbot waiting. He came upto me, and again said:--
"Frank, I call Heaven to witness that you are mistaken. You are wrong.Suspend your opinion, at least, if you will not recall your words."
Totally possessed by the devil, and not to be convinced till too late, Ireplied to his peaceful overture by the most insulting irony: "You werenot afraid to fire at a poor boy in the water," said I, "though you donot like to stand a shot in return. Come, come, take your ground, be aman, stand up, don't be afraid."
"For myself," said Talbot, with a firm and placid resignation ofcountenance, "I have no fears; but for you, Frank, I have great cause ofalarm:" so saying, he snatched up the loaded pistol, which I threw downto him.
We had no seconds; nor was there any person in sight. It was a brightmoonlight, and we walked to the water's edge, where the reflux of thetide had left the sand firm to the tread. Here we stood back to back.The usual distance was fourteen paces. Talbot refused to measure his,but stood perfectly still. I walked ten paces, and turned round."Ready," said I, in a low voice.
We both raised our arms; but Talbot, instantly dropping the muzzle ofhis pistol, said, "I cannot fire at the brother of Clara!"
"I can at her insulter," answered I; and, taking deliberate aim, fired,and my ball entered his side. He bounded, gave a half-turn round in theair, and fell on his face to the ground.
How sudden are the transitions of the human mind! how close does remorsefollow the gratification of revenge! The veil dropped from my eyes; Isaw in an instant the false medium, the deceitful vision, which had thusallured me into what the world calls "an affair of honour." "Honour,"good Heaven! had made me a murderer, and the voice of my brother's bloodcried out for vengeance.
The manly and athletic form, which one minute before excited my mostmalignant hatred, when now prostrate and speechless became an object offrantic affection. I ran to Talbot, and when it was too late perceivedthe mischief I had done. Murder, cruelty, injustice, and, above all,the most detestable ingratitude, flushed at once into my over-crowdedimagination. I turned the body round, and tried to discover if therewere any signs of life. A small stream of blood ran from his side, and,about two feet from him, was lost in the absorbing sand; while from theviolence of his fall the sand had filled his mouth and nostrils. Icleaned them out; and stanching the wound with my handkerchief, for theblood flowed copiously at every respiration, I sat on the sea-shore byhis side, supporting him in my arms. I only exclaimed, "Would to Godthe shark, the poison, the sword of the enemy, or the precipice ofTrinidad, had destroyed me before this fatal hour!"
Talbot opened his languid eyes, and fixed them on me with a glassystare; but he did not speak. Suddenly recollection seemed for a momentto return--he recognised me, and, O God! his look of kindness pierced myheart. He made several efforts to speak, and at last said, in brokenaccents, and at long and painful intervals.
"Look at letter--writing-desk--read all--explain--God bless--" His headfell back, and he was dead!
Oh, how I envied him! had he been ten thousand times more guilty than Ihad ever supposed him, i
t would have given no comfort to my mind. I hadmurdered him, and too late, I acknowledged his innocence. I know notwhy, and can scarcely tell how I did it, but I took off my neckcloth,and bound it tightly round his waist, over the wound. The blood ceasedto flow. I left the body, and returned to our lodging, in a state ofmental prostration and misery proportioned to the heat and excitementwith which I had quitted it.
My first object was to read the letters which my poor friend hadreferred to. On my arrival, both our servants were up. My hands andclothes were dyed with blood, and they looked at me with astonishment.I ran hastily upstairs to avoid them, and took the writing-desk, the keyof which I knew hung to his watch-chain. Seizing the poker, I split itopen, and took out the packet he mentioned. At this moment his servantentered the room.
"_Et mon maitre, monsieur, ou est-il_?"
"I have murdered him," said I, "and you will find him on the sands, nearthe signal-post; and," continued I, "I am now robbing him!"
My appearance and actions seemed to prove the truth of my assertion.The man flew out of the room; but I was regardless of everything, andeven wonder why I should have given my attention to the letters at all,especially as I had now convinced myself of Talbot's innocence. Thepacket, however, I did read; and it consisted of a series of lettersbetween Talbot and his father, who had engaged him to a young lady ofrank and fortune, without consulting him--_un mariage de convenance_--which Talbot had resisted in consequence of his attachment to Clara.
I have already stated that Talbot of high aristocratic family; and thismarriage being wished for by the parents of both parties, they had givenit out as being finally settled to take place on the return of Talbot toEngland. In the last letter, the father had yielded to his entreatiesin favour of Clara; only requesting him not to be precipitate inoffering himself, as he wished to find some excuse for breaking off thematch; and, above all, he fatally enjoined profound secrecy till theaffair was arranged. Here, then, was everything explained. Indeed,before I had read these letters, my mind did not need this damning proofof his innocence and my guilt.
Just as I had finished reading, the _gendarmes_ entered my room, and,with the officers of justice, led me away to prison. I walkedmechanically. I was conducted to a small building in the centre of asquare. This was a _cachot_ with an iron-grated window on each of itsfour sides, but without glass. There was no bench, or table, oranything but the bare walls and the pavement. The wind blew sharplythrough. I had not even a great-coat; but I felt no cold or personalinconvenience, for my mind was too much occupied by superior misery.The door closed on me, and I heard the bolts turn. There was not anobservation made on either part, and I was left to myself.
"Well," said I, "fate has now done its worst, and fortune will be wearyat last of tormenting a wretch that she can sink no lower! Death has noterrors for me; and, after death--!" But, even in my misery, I scarcelygave a thought to what might happen in futurity. It might occasionallyhave obtruded itself on my mind, but was quickly dismissed: I hadadopted the atheistical creed of the French Revolution.
"Death is eternal sleep, and the sooner I go to sleep the better!"thought I. The only point that pressed itself on my mind was, the dreadof a public execution. This my pride revolted at; for pride had againreturned, and resumed its empire, even in my _cachot_.
As the day dawned, the noise of the carts and country people coming intothe square with their produce, roused me from my reverie, for I had notslept. The prison was surrounded by all ages and all classes, to get asight of the English murderer; and the light and the air were stoppedout of each window by human faces pressed against the bars. I was gazedat as a wild beast; and the children, as they sat on their mother'sshoulders to look at me, received a moral lesson and a warning at myexpense.
As a tiger in his cage wearies the eye by incessantly walking andturning, so I paced my den; and if I could have reached one of theimpertinent gazers, through the slanting aperture and three-foot wall, Ishould have throttled him. "All these people," said I, "and thousandsmore, will witness my last moments on the scaffold!"
Stung with this dreadful thought, with rage I searched in my pockets formy penknife, to relieve me at once from my torments and apprehensions;and had I found it, I should certainly have committed suicide.Fortunately I had left it at home, or it would have been buried, in thatmoment of frenzy, in the carotid artery; for, as well as others, I knewexactly where to find it.
The crowd at length began to disperse; the windows were left, except nowand then an urchin of a boy showed his ragged head at the _grille_.Worn out with bodily fatigue and mental suffering, I was going to throwmyself along upon the cold stones, when I saw the face of my ownservant, who advanced in haste to the window of the prison, exclaimingwith joy:--
"_Courage, mon cher maitre; Monsieur Talbot n'est pas mort_!"
"Not dead!" exclaimed I, falling unconsciously on my knees, and liftingup my clasped hands and haggard eyes to heaven; "not dead! God bepraised. At least there is a hope that I may escape the crime ofmurder."
Before I could say more, the mayor entered my _cachot_ with the officersof the police, and informed me that a _proces-verbal_ had been held;that my friend had been able to give the clearest answers to all theirquestions; and that it appeared from the evidence of _Monsieur Talbot_himself, that it was an _affaire d'honneur_, fairly decided; that thebrace of pistols found in the water had confirmed his assertions: "andtherefore, _monsieur_," continued the mayor, "whether your friend livesor dies _tout a ete fait en regle, et vous etes libre_."
So saying, he bowed very politely, and pointed to the door; nor was I soceremonious as to beg him to show me the way; out I ran, and flew to theapartment of Talbot, who had sent my servant to say how much he wishedto see me. I found him in bed. As I entered, he held out his hand tome, which I covered with kisses and bathed with my tears.
"O Talbot!" said I, "can you forgive me?"
He squeezed my hand, and from exhaustion let it fall. The surgeon ledme out of the room, saying, "All depends on his being kept quiet." Ithen learned that he owed his life to two circumstances--the first was,my having bound my neckcloth round the wound; the other was, that theduel took place below high-water mark. The tide was rising when I lefthim; and the cold waves as they rippled against his body, had restoredhim to animation. In this state he was found by his servant, not manyminutes before the flood would have covered him, for he had not strengthto move out of its way. I ascertained also that the ball had enteredhis liver, and had passed out without doing further injury.
I now dressed myself, and devoutly thanking God for His miraculouspreservation, took my seat by the bedside of the patient, which I neverquitted until his perfect recovery. When this was happily completed, Iwrote to my father and to Clara, giving both an exact account of thewhole transaction. Clara, undeceived, made no scruple of acknowledgingher attachment. Talbot was requested by his father to return home. Iaccompanied him as far as Calais, where we parted; and in a few weeksafter, I had the pleasure of hearing that my sister had become his wife.
Left to myself, returned slowly, and much depressed in spirits, toQuillacq's; where, ordering post-horses, I threw myself into mytravelling-carriage into which my valet had by my orders previouslyplaced my luggage.
"Where are you going to, _monsieur_?" said the valet.
"_Au diable_!" said I.
"_Mais les passeports_?" said the man.
I felt that I had sufficient passports for the journey I had proposed;but correcting myself, said, "to Switzerland." It was the first namethat came into my head; and I had heard that it was the resort of all mycountrymen whose heads, hearts, lungs, or finances were disordered. Butduring my journey, I neither saw nor heard anything, consequently tookno notes, which my readers will rejoice at, because they will be sparedthat inexhaustible supply to the trunk-makers, "A tour through Franceand Switzerland." I travelled night and day; for I could not sleep.The allegory of Io and the gad-fly in the heathen mythology, must
surelyhave been intended to represent the being who, like myself, wastormented by a bad conscience. Like Io I flew; and like her, I waspursued by the eternal gad-fly, wherever I went; and in vain did I tryto escape it.
I passed the Great St. Bernard on foot. This interested me as Iapproached it. The mountains below, and the Alps above, were one massof snow and ice, and I looked down with contempt on the world below me.I took up my abode in the convent for some time; my ample contributionsto the box in the chapel made me a welcome sojourner beyond the limitedperiod allowed to travellers, and I felt less and less inclined to quitthe scene. My amusement was climbing the most frightful precipices,followed by the large and faithful dogs, and viewing Nature in herwildest and most sublime attire. At other times, when bodily fatiguerequired rest, I sat down, with morbid melancholy, in the receptacle forthe bodies of those unfortunate persons who had perished in the show.There would I remain for hours, musing on their fate: the purity of theair admitted neither putrefaction nor even decay, for a veryconsiderable time; and they lay, to all appearance, as if the breath hadeven then only quitted them, although, on touching those who had beenthere for years, they would often crumble into dust.
Roman Catholics, we know, are ever anxious to make converts. The priorasked me whether I was not a Protestant? I replied, that I was of noreligion; which answer was, I believe, much nearer to the truth than anyother I could have given. The reply was far more favourable to thehopes of the monks than if I had said I was a heretic or a Moslem. Theythought me much more likely to become a convert to _their_ religion,since I had none of my own to oppose it. The monks immediately arrangedthemselves in theological order, with the whole armour of faith, andlaid constant siege to me on all sides; but I was not inclined to anyreligion, much less to the one I despised. I would sooner have turnedTurk.
I received a letter from poor unhappy Eugenia--it was the last she everwrote. It was to acquaint me with the death of her lovely boy, who,having wandered from the house, had fallen into a trout-stream, where hewas found drowned some hours after. In her distracted state of mind shecould add no more than her blessing, and a firm conviction that weshould never meet again in this world. Her letter concludedincoherently; and although I should have said, in the morning, that mymind had not room for another sorrow, yet the loss of this sweet boy,and the state of his wretched mother, found a place in my bosom for atime, to the total exclusion of all other cares. She requested me tohasten to her without delay, if I wished to see her before she died.
I took leave of the monks, and travelled with all speed to Paris, andthence to Calais. Reaching Quillacq's hotel, I received a shock which,although I apprehended danger, I was not prepared for. It was a letterfrom Eugenia's agent, announcing her death. She had been seized with abrain fever, and had died at a small town in Norfolk, where she hadremoved soon after our last unhappy interview. The agent concluded hisletter by saying that Eugenia had bequeathed me all her property, whichwas very considerable, and that her last rational words to him were thatI was her first and her only love.
I was now callous to suffering. My feelings had been racked toinsensibility. Like a ship in a hurricane, the last tremendous sea hadswept everything from the decks--the vessel was a wreck, driving as thestorm might chance to direct. In the midst of this devastation, Ilooked around me, and the only object which presented itself to my mind,as worthy of contemplation, was the tomb which contained the remains ofEugenia and her child. To that I resolved to repair.
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