The Light of Scarthey: A Romance

by Egerton Castle

  CHAPTER XX

  TWO MONTHS LATER: THE QUICK AND THE DEAD

  Neighbour, what doth thy husband when he cometh home from work? He thinks of her he loved before he knew me

  _Luteplayer's Song._

  _February 18th._ Upon the 18th of January, 1815, did I commit thatmost irreparable of all follies; then by my own hand I killed fairMolly de Savenaye, who was so happy, so free, so much in love withlife, and whom I loved so dearly, and in her stead called intoexistence Molly Landale, a poor-spirited miserable creature who hasnot given me one moment's amusement. How could I have been so stupid?

  Let me examine.

  It is only a month ago, only a month, 4 weeks, 31 days, millions ofhorrible dreary minutes, Oh, Molly, Molly, Molly! since you stood,that snowy day, in the great drawing-room (_my_ drawing-room now, Ihate it), and vowed twice over, once before the Jesuit father fromStonyhurst, once before jolly, hunting heretical parson Cochrane tocleave to Adrian Landale till death bid you part! Brr--what ghastlywords and with what a light heart I said them, tripped them out, _mafoi_, as gaily as "good-morning" or "good-night!" They were to be the_open sesame_ to joys untold, to lands flowing with milk and honey, toromance, adventure, splendour--and what have they brought me?

  It is a cold day, sleeting, snowing, blowing, all that is abominable.My lord and master has ridden off, despite it, to some distant farmwhere there has been a fire. The "Good Sir Adrian," as they call himnow--he is _that_; but, oh dear me--there! I must yawn, and I'll sayno more on this head, at present, for I want to think and work mywretched problem out in earnest, and not go to sleep.

  It is the first time I have taken heart to write since yonder day ofdoom, and God knows when I shall have heart again! Upon such anafternoon there is nothing better to do, since Sir Adrian would havenone of my company--he is so precious of me that he fears I shouldmelt like sugar in the wet--he never guessed that it was just becauseof the storm I wished the ride! Were we to live a hundred yearstogether--which, God forfend--he would never understand me.

  Ah, lack-a-day, oh, misery me! (My lady, you are wandering; come backto business.)

  What, then, has marriage brought me? First of all a husband. That isto say, another person, a man who has the right to me--to whom Imyself have given that right--to have me, to hold me, as it runs inthe terrible service, the thunders of which were twice rolled out uponmy head, and which have been ringing there ever since. And I, Molly,gave of my own free will, that best and most blessed of all gifts, myown free will, away. I am surrounded, as it were, by barriers; hemmedin, bound up, kept in leading strings. I mind me of the seagull on theisland. 'Tis all in the most loving care in the world, of course, butoh! the oppression of it! I must hide my feelings as well as I can,for in my heart I would not grieve that good man, that _excellent_man, that pattern of kind gentleman--oh, oh, oh--it will out--that_dreary_ man, that dull man, that most melancholy of all men! Whosighs more than he smiles, and, I warrant, of the two, his sighs arethe more cheerful; who looks at his beautiful wife as if he saw aghost, and kisses her as if he kissed a corpse!

  There is a mate for Molly! the mate she chose for herself!

  So much for the husband. What else has marriage brought her?

  Briefly I will capitulate.

  A title--I am _my lady_. For three days it sounded prettily in myears. But to the girl who refused a duchess' coronet, who was borncomtesse--to be the baronet's lady--Tanty may say what she likes ofthe age of creation, and all the rest of it--that advantage cannotweigh heavy in the balance. Again then, I have a splendidhouse--which is my prison, and in which, like all prisoners, I havenot the right to choose my company--else would Sophia and Rupert stillbe here? They are going, I am told occasionally; but my intimateconviction is, however often they may be going, _they will never go_._Item four:_ I have money, and nothing to spend it on--but the poor.

  What next? What next?--alas, I look and I find nothing! This is allthat marriage has brought me; and what has it not taken from me?

  My delight in existence, my independence, my hopes, my belief in thefuture, my belief in _love_. Faith, hope, and charity, in fact,destroyed at one fell sweep. And all, to gratify my curiosity as to aromantic mystery, my vanity as to my own powers of fascination! Well,I have solved the mystery, and behold it was nothing. I have eaten ofthe fruit of knowledge, and it is tasteless in my mouth.

  I have made my capture with my little bow and spear, and I am asembarrassed of my captive as he of me. We pull at the chain that bindsus together; nay, such being the law of this world between men andwomen, the positions are reversed, my captive is now my master, andMolly is the slave.

  Tanty, I could curse thee for thy officiousness, from the tip of thycoal black wig to the sole of thy platter shoe--but that I am too goodto curse thee at all!

  Poor book of my life that I was so eager to fill in, that was to haveheld a narrative all thrilling, and all varied, now will I set forthin thee, my failure, my hopelessness, and after that close thee forever.

  Of what use indeed to chronicle, when there is nought to tell butflatness, chill monotony, on every side; when even the workings of mysoul cannot interest me to follow, since they can now foreshadownothing, lead to nothing but fruitless struggle or tame resignation!

  I discovered my mistake--not the whole of it, but enough to give me adreadful foreboding of its hideousness, not two hours after thenuptial ceremony.

  Adrian had borne himself up to that with the romantic, mysteriousdignity of presence that first caught my silly fancy; behind which Ihad pictured such fascinating depths of passion--of fire--Alas! Whenhe looked at me it was with that air of wondering, almost timid,affection battling with I know not what flame of rapture, with whichlook I have become so fatally familiar since--without the flame ofrapture, be it understood, which seems to have rapidly burnt away to avery ash of grey despondency and self-reproach. I could have sworneven as he gave me his arm to meet and receive the congratulations ofour guests, that the glow upon his cheek, the poise of his headdenoted the pride any man, were he not an idiot nor a brute, must feelin presenting his bride--such a bride!--to the world. Then we went into the great dining hall where the wedding feast, a very splendid one,was spread. All the gentlemen looked with admiration at me; many withenvy at Adrian. I knew that I was beautiful in my fine white satinwith my veil thrown back, without the flattering whispers that reachedme now and again; but these were sweet to hear nevertheless. I knewmyself the centre of all eyes, and it elated me. So too did thetingling flavour of the one glass of sparkling wine I drank to myfortunes. Immediately upon this silent toast of Lady Landale toherself, Rupert rose and in choice words and silver-ringing voiceproposed the health of the bride and bridegroom. There was a merrybustling pause while the glasses were filled; then rising to theirfeet as with one man, all the gentlemen stood with brimming gobletsone instant extended, the next emptied to the last drop; and then thecheers rang out, swelling up the rafters, three times three, seemingto carry my soul along with them. I felt my heart expand and throbwith an emotion I never knew in it before, which seemed to promisevast future capacities of pain and delight. I turned to my husbandinstinctively; looking for, expecting, I could not explain why, ananswering fire in his eyes. This was the last moment of my illusions.From thence they began to shrivel away with a terrifying rapidity.

  Adrian sat with a face that looked old and lined and grey; withhaggard unseeing eyes gazing forth into space as though fixing someinvisible and spectre show. He seemed as if wrapt in a world of hisown, to which none of us had entrance; least of all, I, his wife.

  The shouts around us died away, there were cries upon him for"Speech--speech," then playful queries--"How is this, Sir Adrian? Sobashful, egad!" next nudges were exchanged, looks of wonder, and anold voice speaking broadly:

  _"Yes, by George,"_ it was saying, _"I remember it well, by George, inthis very room, now twenty years ago, 'Here, gentlemen,' says old SirTummas, 'Here's to Madam de Savenaye,' and gad, ma'am, we allyelled
,--she was a lovely creature--Eh--Eh?"_

  "Hush," said some one, and there was a running circle of frowns andthe old voice ceased as abruptly as if its owner had been seized bythe weasand. In the heavy embarrassed silence, I caught Tanty's redperturbed look and Rupert's smile.

  But Adrian sat on--like a ghost among the living, or a live man amongthe dead. And this was my gallant bridegroom! I seized him by thehand--"Are you ill, Adrian?"

  He started and looked round at me--Oh that look! It seemed to burninto my soul, I shall never forget the hopelessness, the dull sadnessof it, and then--I don't know what he read in my answering glance--themute agonised question, followed by a terror.

  "They want you to speak," I whispered, and shook the cold hand I heldin a fury of impatience.

  His lips trembled: he stared at me blankly. "My God, my God, what haveI done?" he muttered to himself, "Cecile's child--Cecile's child!"

  I could have burst out sobbing. But seeing Rupert's face bent downtowards his plate, demure and solemn, yet stamped, for all hiscleverness, with an almost devilish triumph, my pride rose and mycourage. Every one else seemed to be looking towards us: I stood up.

  "Good friends," I said, "I see that my husband is so much touched bythe welcome that you are giving his bride, the welcome that you aregiving him after his long exile from his house, that he is quiteunable to answer you as he would wish. But lest you shouldmisunderstand this silence of his, I am bold enough to answer you inhis name, and--since it is but a few moments ago that you have seen usmade one, I think I have the right to do so.... We thank you."

  My heart was beating to suffocation--but I carried bravely on till Iwas drowned in a storm of acclamations to which the first cheers wereas nothing.

  They drank my health again, and again I heard the old gentleman of theindiscreet voice--I have learned since he is stone deaf, and I daresayhe flattered himself he spoke in a whisper--proclaim that I was _mymother all over again: begad--so had she spoken to them twenty yearsago in this very room!_

  Here Tanty came to the rescue and carried me off.

  I dared not trust myself to look at Adrian as I left, but I knew thathe followed me to the door, from which I presumed that he hadrecovered his presence of mind in some degree.

  Since that day we have been like two who walk along on opposite banksof a widening stream--ever more and more divided.

  I have told no one of my despair. It is curious, but, little wifely asI feel towards him, there is something in me that keeps me back fromthe disloyalty of discussing my husband with other people.

  And it is not even as it might have been--this is what maddens me. _Weare always at cross purposes._ Some wilful spirit wakes in me, at thevery sound of his voice (always gentle and restrained, and echoing ofpast sadness); under his mild, tender look; at the every fresh sign ofhis perpetual watchful anxiety--I give him wayward answers, frowninggreetings, sighs, pouts; I feel at times a savage desire to wound, toanger him, and as far as I dare venture I have ventured, yet could notrouse in him one spark, even of proper indignation.

  The word of the riddle lay in that broken exclamation of his at ourwedding feast.

  "Cecile's child!"

  His wife, then, is only Cecile's child to him. I have failed when Ithought to have conquered--and with the consciousness of failure havelost my power, even to the desire of regaining it. My dead mother ismy rival; her shade rises between me and my husband's love. Could hehave loved me, I might perhaps have loved him--and now--now I,_Molly_, I, shall perhaps go down to my grave without having known_love_.

  I thought I had found it on that day when he took me in his arms inthat odious library--my heart melted when he so tenderly kissed mylips. And now the very remembrance of that moment angers me.Tenderness! Am I only a weak, helpless child that I can arouse nomore from the man to whom I have given myself! I thought the gates oflife had been opened to me--behold, they led me to a warm comfortableprison! And this is Molly's end!

  There is a light in Madeleine's eyes, a ring in her voice, a smileupon her lip. She has bloomed into a beauty that I could hardly haveimagined, and this is because of this unknown whom she _loves_. Shebreathes the fulness of the flower; and by-and-by, no doubt, she willtaste the fulness of the fruit; she will be complete; she will be fedand I am to starve. What is coming to me? I do not know myself. I feelthat I could grudge her these favours, that I _do_ grudge them to her.I am sick at heart.

  And she--even she has proved false to me. I know that she meets thisman. Adrian too knows it, and more of him than he will tell me; and heapproves. I am treated like a child. The situation is strange uponevery side; Madeleine loving a plebeian--a sailor, not a king'sofficer--stooping to stolen interviews! Adrian the punctilious, inwhose charge Tanty solemnly left her, pretending ignorance, virtuallycondoning my sister's behaviour! For though he has distinctly refusedto enlighten me or help me to enlighten myself, he could not, upon mytaxing him with it, deny that he was in possession of facts ignored byme.

  Then there is Rupert paying now open court to this sly damsel--for thesake of her beautiful eyes, or for the beautiful eyes of her casket?And last and strangest, the incongruous friendship struck up this weekbetween her and that most irritating of melancholy fools, Sophia. Thelatter bursts with suppressed importance, she launches glances ofunderstanding at my sister; sighs, smiles (when Rupert's eye is not onher), starts mysteriously. One would say that Madeleine had made aconfidant of her--only that it would be too silly. What? Make aconfidant of that funereal mute and deny _me_ the truth! If I had thespirit for it I would set myself to discovering this grand mystery;and then let them beware! They would have none of Molly as a friend:perhaps she will yet prove one too many upon the other side.

  If I have grown bitter to Madeleine, it is her own fault; I would havebeen as true as steel to her if she had but trusted me. Now andagain, when a hard word and look escape me, she gives me a greatsurprised, reproachful glance, as of a petted child that has beenhurt; but mostly she scarcely seems to notice the change inme--Moonlike in dreamy serenity she sails along, wrapt in her ownthoughts, and troubles no more over Molly's breaking her heart thanover Rupert's determined suit. To me when she remembers me, she givesthe old caresses, the old loving words; to him smiles and prettycourtesy. Oh, she keeps her secret well! But I came upon her in thewoods alone, last Friday, fresh, no doubt, from her lover's arms;tremulous, smiling, yet tearful, with face dyed rose. And when to mylast effort to attain the right of sisterhood she would only stammerthe tell-tale words: _she had promised!_ and press her hot cheeksagainst mine, I thrust her from me, indignant, and from my affectionsfor ever. Yet I hold her in my power, I could write to Tanty, putRupert on the track.... Nay, I have not fallen so low as to becomeRupert's accomplice yet!

  And so the days go on. Between my husband's increasing melancholy, myown mad regrets, Rupert's watchfulness, Madeleine's absorption andSophia's twaddle, my brain reels. I feel sometimes as if I couldscream aloud, as we all sit round the table, and I know that _this_ isthe life that I am doomed to, and that the days may go on, go on thus,till I am old. Poor Murthering Moll the second! Why even the convent,where at least I knew nothing, would have been better! No, it is notpossible! Something is still to come to me. Like a bird, my heartrises within me. I have the right to my life, the right to myhappiness, say what they may.