A Laodicean : A Story of To-day

by Thomas Hardy

  IV.

  To return for a while to George Somerset. The sun of his later existencehaving vanished from that young man's horizon, he confined himselfclosely to the studio, superintending the exertions of his draughtsmenBowles, Knowles, and Cockton, who were now in the full swing of workingout Somerset's creations from the sketches he had previously prepared.

  He had so far got the start of Havill in the competition that, by thehelp of these three gentlemen, his design was soon finished. But hegained no unfair advantage on this account, an additional month beingallowed to Havill to compensate for his later information.

  Before scaling up his drawings Somerset wished to spend a short time inLondon, and dismissing his assistants till further notice, he locked upthe rooms which had been appropriated as office and studio and preparedfor the journey.

  It was afternoon. Somerset walked from the castle in the direction ofthe wood to reach Markton by a detour. He had not proceeded far whenthere approached his path a man riding a bay horse with a square-cuttail. The equestrian wore a grizzled beard, and looked at Somerset witha piercing eye as he noiselessly ambled nearer over the soft sod ofthe park. He proved to be Mr. Cunningham Haze, chief constable of thedistrict, who had become slightly known to Somerset during his sojournhere.

  'One word, Mr. Somerset,' said the Chief, after they had exchanged nodsof recognition, reining his horse as he spoke.

  Somerset stopped.

  'You have a studio at the castle in which you are preparing drawings?'

  'I have.'

  'Have you a clerk?'

  'I had three till yesterday, when I paid them off.'

  'Would they have any right to enter the studio late at night?'

  'There would have been nothing wrong in their doing so. Either of themmight have gone back at any time for something forgotten. They livedquite near the castle.'

  'Ah, then all is explained. I was riding past over the grass on thenight of last Thursday, and I saw two persons in your studio with alight. It must have been about half-past nine o'clock. One of them cameforward and pulled down the blind so that the light fell upon his face.But I only saw it for a short time.'

  'If it were Knowles or Cockton he would have had a beard.'

  'He had no beard.'

  'Then it must have been Bowles. A young man?'

  'Quite young. His companion in the background seemed older.'

  'They are all about the same age really. By the way--it couldn't havebeen Dare--and Havill, surely! Would you recognize them again?'

  'The young one possibly. The other not at all, for he remained in theshade.'

  Somerset endeavoured to discern in a description by the chief constablethe features of Mr. Bowles: but it seemed to approximate more closely toDare in spite of himself. 'I'll make a sketch of the only one who had nobusiness there, and show it to you,' he presently said. 'I should likethis cleared up.'

  Mr. Cunningham Haze said he was going to Toneborough that afternoon, butwould return in the evening before Somerset's departure. With this theyparted. A possible motive for Dare's presence in the rooms had instantlypresented itself to Somerset's mind, for he had seen Dare enter Havill'soffice more than once, as if he were at work there.

  He accordingly sat on the next stile, and taking out his pocket-bookbegan a pencil sketch of Dare's head, to show to Mr. Haze in theevening; for if Dare had indeed found admission with Havill, or as hisagent, the design was lost.

  But he could not make a drawing that was a satisfactory likeness. Thenhe luckily remembered that Dare, in the intense warmth of admiration hehad affected for Somerset on the first day or two of their acquaintance,had begged for his photograph, and in return for it had left oneof himself on the mantelpiece, taken as he said by his own process.Somerset resolved to show this production to Mr. Haze, as being moreto the purpose than a sketch, and instead of finishing the latter,proceeded on his way.

  He entered the old overgrown drive which wound indirectly through thewood to Markton. The road, having been laid out for idling rather thanfor progress, bent sharply hither and thither among the fissuredtrunks and layers of horny leaves which lay there all the year round,interspersed with cushions of vivid green moss that formed oases in therust-red expanse.

  Reaching a point where the road made one of its bends between two largebeeches, a man and woman revealed themselves at a few yards' distance,walking slowly towards him. In the short and quaint lady he recognizedCharlotte De Stancy, whom he remembered not to have seen for severaldays.

  She slightly blushed and said, 'O, this is pleasant, Mr. Somerset!Let me present my brother to you, Captain De Stancy of the Royal HorseArtillery.'

  Her brother came forward and shook hands heartily with Somerset; andthey all three rambled on together, talking of the season, the place,the fishing, the shooting, and whatever else came uppermost in theirminds.

  Captain De Stancy was a personage who would have been called interestingby women well out of their teens. He was ripe, without having declineda digit towards fogeyism. He was sufficiently old and experienced tosuggest a goodly accumulation of touching amourettes in the chambers ofhis memory, and not too old for the possibility of increasing the store.He was apparently about eight-and-thirty, less tall than his fatherhad been, but admirably made; and his every movement exhibited a finecombination of strength and flexibility of limb. His face was somewhatthin and thoughtful, its complexion being naturally pale, thoughdarkened by exposure to a warmer sun than ours. His features weresomewhat striking; his moustache and hair raven black; and his eyes,denied the attributes of military keenness by reason of the largenessand darkness of their aspect, acquired thereby a softness of expressionthat was in part womanly. His mouth as far as it could be seenreproduced this characteristic, which might have been called weakness,or goodness, according to the mental attitude of the observer. It waslarge but well formed, and showed an unimpaired line of teeth within.His dress at present was a heather-coloured rural suit, cut close to hisfigure.

  'You knew my cousin, Jack Ravensbury?' he said to Somerset, as they wenton. 'Poor Jack: he was a good fellow.'

  'He was a very good fellow.'

  'He would have been made a parson if he had lived--it was his greatwish. I, as his senior, and a man of the world as I thought myself,used to chaff him about it when he was a boy, and tell him not to be amilksop, but to enter the army. But I think Jack was right--the parsonshave the best of it, I see now.'

  'They would hardly admit that,' said Somerset, laughing. 'Nor can I.'

  'Nor I,' said the captain's sister. 'See how lovely you all looked withyour big guns and uniform when you entered Markton; and then see howstupid the parsons look by comparison, when they flock into Markton at aVisitation.'

  'Ah, yes,' said De Stancy,

  '"Doubtless it is a brilliant masquerade; But when of the first sight you've had your fill, It palls--at least it does so upon me, This paradise of pleasure and ennui."

  When one is getting on for forty;

  "When we have made our love, and gamed our gaming, Dressed, voted, shone, and maybe, something more; With dandies dined, heard senators declaiming; Seen beauties brought to market by the score,"

  and so on, there arises a strong desire for a quiet old-fashionedcountry life, in which incessant movement is not a necessary part of theprogramme.'

  'But you are not forty, Will?' said Charlotte.

  'My dear, I was thirty-nine last January.'

  'Well, men about here are youths at that age. It was India used you upso, when you served in the line, was it not? I wish you had never gonethere!'

  'So do I,' said De Stancy drily. 'But I ought to grow a youth again,like the rest, now I am in my native air.'

  They came to a narrow brook, not wider than a man's stride, and Miss DeStancy halted on the edge.

  'Why, Lottie, you used to jump it easily enough,' said her brother. 'Butwe won't make her do it now.' He took her in his arms, and liftedher ove
r, giving her a gratuitous ride for some additional yards, andsaying, 'You are not a pound heavier, Lott, than you were at ten yearsold.... What do you think of the country here, Mr. Somerset? Are yougoing to stay long?'

  'I think very well of it,' said Somerset. 'But I leave to-morrowmorning, which makes it necessary that I turn back in a minute or twofrom walking with you.'

  'That's a disappointment. I had hoped you were going to finish outthe autumn with shooting. There's some, very fair, to be got here onreasonable terms, I've just heard.'

  'But you need not hire any!' spoke up Charlotte. 'Paula would let youshoot anything, I am sure. She has not been here long enough to preservemuch game, and the poachers had it all in Mr. Wilkins' time. But whatthere is you might kill with pleasure to her.'

  'No, thank you,' said De Stancy grimly. 'I prefer to remain a strangerto Miss Power--Miss Steam-Power, she ought to be called--and to all herpossessions.'

  Charlotte was subdued, and did not insist further; while Somerset,before he could feel himself able to decide on the mood in which thegallant captain's joke at Paula's expense should be taken, wonderedwhether it were a married man or a bachelor who uttered it.

  He had not been able to keep the question of De Stancy's domestic stateout of his head from the first moment of seeing him. Assuming De Stancyto be a husband, he felt there might be some excuse for his remark; ifunmarried, Somerset liked the satire still better; in such circumstancesthere was a relief in the thought that Captain De Stancy's prejudicesmight be infinitely stronger than those of his sister or father.

  'Going to-morrow, did you say, Mr. Somerset?' asked Miss De Stancy.'Then will you dine with us to-day? My father is anxious that youshould do so before you go. I am sorry there will be only our own familypresent to meet you; but you can leave as early as you wish.'

  Her brother seconded the invitation, and Somerset promised, though hisleisure for that evening was short. He was in truth somewhat inclinedto like De Stancy; for though the captain had said nothing of any valueeither on war, commerce, science, or art, he had seemed attractiveto the younger man. Beyond the natural interest a soldier has forimaginative minds in the civil walks of life, De Stancy's occasionalmanifestations of taedium vitae were too poetically shaped tobe repellent. Gallantry combined in him with a sort of asceticself-repression in a way that was curious. He was a dozen years olderthan Somerset: his life had been passed in grooves remote from those ofSomerset's own life; and the latter decided that he would like to meetthe artillery officer again.

  Bidding them a temporary farewell, he went away to Markton by a shorterpath than that pursued by the De Stancys, and after spending theremainder of the afternoon preparing for departure, he sallied forthjust before the dinner-hour towards the suburban villa.

  He had become yet more curious whether a Mrs. De Stancy existed;if there were one he would probably see her to-night. He had anirrepressible hope that there might be such a lady. On entering thedrawing-room only the father, son, and daughter were assembled. Somersetfell into talk with Charlotte during the few minutes before dinner, andhis thought found its way out.

  'There is no Mrs. De Stancy?' he said in an undertone.

  'None,' she said; 'my brother is a bachelor.'

  The dinner having been fixed at an early hour to suit Somerset, they hadreturned to the drawing-room at eight o'clock. About nine he was aimingto get away.

  'You are not off yet?' said the captain.

  'There would have been no hurry,' said Somerset, 'had I not justremembered that I have left one thing undone which I want to attend tobefore my departure. I want to see the chief constable to-night.'

  'Cunningham Haze?--he is the very man I too want to see. But he went outof town this afternoon, and I hardly think you will see him to-night.His return has been delayed.'

  'Then the matter must wait.'

  'I have left word at his house asking him to call here if he gets homebefore half-past ten; but at any rate I shall see him to-morrow morning.Can I do anything for you, since you are leaving early?'

  Somerset replied that the business was of no great importance, andbriefly explained the suspected intrusion into his studio; that he hadwith him a photograph of the suspected young man. 'If it is a mistake,'added Somerset, 'I should regret putting my draughtsman's portrait intothe hands of the police, since it might injure his character; indeed, itwould be unfair to him. So I wish to keep the likeness in my own hands,and merely to show it to Mr. Haze. That's why I prefer not to send it.'

  'My matter with Haze is that the barrack furniture does not correspondwith the inventories. If you like, I'll ask your question at the sametime with pleasure.'

  Thereupon Somerset gave Captain De Stancy an unfastened envelopecontaining the portrait, asking him to destroy it if the constableshould declare it not to correspond with the face that met his eye atthe window. Soon after, Somerset took his leave of the household.

  He had not been absent ten minutes when other wheels were heard on thegravel without, and the servant announced Mr. Cunningham Haze, who hadreturned earlier than he had expected, and had called as requested.

  They went into the dining-room to discuss their business. When thebarrack matter had been arranged De Stancy said, 'I have a littlecommission to execute for my friend Mr. Somerset. I am to ask you ifthis portrait of the person he suspects of unlawfully entering his roomis like the man you saw there?'

  The speaker was seated on one side of the dining-table and Mr. Haze onthe other. As he spoke De Stancy pulled the envelope from his pocket,and half drew out the photograph, which he had not as yet looked at,to hand it over to the constable. In the act his eye fell upon theportrait, with its uncertain expression of age, assured look, and hairworn in a fringe like a girl's.

  Captain De Stancy's face became strained, and he leant back in hischair, having previously had sufficient power over himself to close theenvelope and return it to his pocket.

  'Good heavens, you are ill, Captain De Stancy?' said the chiefconstable.

  'It was only momentary,' said De Stancy; 'better in a minute--a glass ofwater will put me right.'

  Mr. Haze got him a glass of water from the sideboard.

  'These spasms occasionally overtake me,' said De Stancy when he haddrunk. 'I am already better. What were we saying? O, this affair ofMr. Somerset's. I find that this envelope is not the right one.' Heostensibly searched his pocket again. 'I must have mislaid it,' hecontinued, rising. 'I'll be with you again in a moment.'

  De Stancy went into the room adjoining, opened an album of portraitsthat lay on the table, and selected one of a young man quite unknownto him, whose age was somewhat akin to Dare's, but who in no otherattribute resembled him.

  De Stancy placed this picture in the original envelope, and returnedwith it to the chief constable, saying he had found it at last.

  'Thank you, thank you,' said Cunningham Haze, looking it over. 'Ah--Iperceive it is not what I expected to see. Mr. Somerset was mistaken.'

  When the chief constable had left the house, Captain De Stancy shutthe door and drew out the original photograph. As he looked at thetranscript of Dare's features he was moved by a painful agitation, tillrecalling himself to the present, he carefully put the portrait into thefire.

  During the following days Captain De Stancy's manner on the roads, inthe streets, and at barracks, was that of Crusoe after seeing the printof a man's foot on the sand.