by George Eliot
CHAPTER XXV.
Your fellow-man?--Divide the epithet: Say rather, you're the fellow, he the man.
When Christian quitted the Free School with the discovery that the younglady whose appearance had first startled him with an indefinableimpression in the market-place was the daughter of the old Dissentingpreacher who had shown so much agitated curiosity about his name, hefelt very much like an uninitiated chess-player, who sees that thepieces are in a peculiar position on the board, and might open the wayfor him to give checkmate, if he only knew how. Ever since his interviewwith Jermyn, his mind had been occupied with the charade it offered tohis ingenuity. What was the real meaning of the lawyer's interest inhim, and in his relations with Maurice Christian Bycliffe? Here was asecret; and secrets were often a source of profit, of that agreeablekind which involved little labor. Jermyn had hinted at profit whichmight possibly come through him; but Christian said inwardly, withwell-satisfied self-esteem, that he was not so pitiable a nincompoop asto trust Jermyn. On the contrary, the only problem before him was tofind out by what combination of independent knowledge he could outwitJermyn, elude any purchase the attorney had on him through his pasthistory, and get a handsome bonus, by which a somewhat shattered man ofpleasure might live well without a master. Christian, having earlyexhausted the more impulsive delights of life, had become a sobercalculator; and he had made up his mind that, for a man who had long agorun through his own money, servitude in a great family was the best kindof retirement after that of a pensioner; but if a better chance offered,a person of talent must not let it slip through his fingers. He heldvarious ends of threads, but there was danger of pulling at them tooimpatiently. He had not forgotten the surprise which had made him dropthe punch-ladle, when Mr. Crowder, talking in the steward's room, hadsaid that a scamp named Henry Scaddon had been concerned in a lawsuitabout the Transome estate. Again, Jermyn was the family lawyer of theTransomes; he knew of the exchange of names between Scaddon andBycliffe; he clearly wanted to know as much as he could about Bycliffe'shistory. The conclusion was not remote that Bycliffe had had some claimon the Transome property, and that a difficulty had arisen from hisbeing confounded with Henry Scaddon. But hitherto the other incidentwhich had been apparently connected with the interchange of names--Mr.Lyon's demand that he should write down the name Maurice Christian,accompanied with the question whether that were his whole name--had hadno visible link with the inferences arrived at through Crowder andJermyn.
The discovery made this morning at the Free School that Esther was thedaughter of the Dissenting preacher at last suggested a possible link.Until then, Christian had not known why Esther's face had impressed himso peculiarly; but the minister's chief association for him was withBycliffe, and that association served as a flash to show him thatEsther's features and expression, and still more her bearing, now shestood and walked, revived Bycliffe's image. Daughter? There were variousways of being a daughter. Suppose this were a case of adoption supposeBycliffe were known to be dead, or thought to be dead. "Begad, if theold parson had fancied the original father was come to life again, itwas enough to frighten him a little. Slow and steady," Christian said tohimself; "I'll get some talk with the old man again. He's safe enough:one can handle him without cutting one's self. I'll tell him I knewBycliffe, and was his fellow-prisoner. I'll worm out the truth aboutthis daughter. Could pretty Annette have married again, and married thislittle scare-crow? There's no knowing what a woman will not do."
Christian could see no distinct result for himself from his industry;but if there were to be any such result, it must be reached by followingout every clue; and to the non-legal mind there are dim possibilities inlaw and heirship which prevent any issue from seeming too miraculous.
The consequence of these meditations was, that Christian hung aboutTreby more than usual in his leisure time, and that on the firstopportunity he accosted Mr. Lyon in the street with suitable civility,stating that since the occasion which had brought them together someweeks before he had often wished to renew their conversation, and, withMr. Lyon's permission, would now ask to do so. After being assured, ashe had been by Jermyn, that this courier, who had happened by someaccident to possess the memorable locket and pocket-book, was certainlynot Annette's husband, and was ignorant whether Maurice ChristianBycliffe were living or dead, the minister's mind had become easy again;his habitual lack of interest in personal details rendering himgradually oblivious of Jermyn's precautionary statement that he waspursuing enquiries, and that if anything of interest turned up, Mr. Lyonshould be made acquainted with it. Hence, when Christian addressed him,the minister, taken by surprise and shaken by the recollections offormer anxieties, said, helplessly--
"If it is business, sir, you would perhaps do better to address yourselfto Mr. Jermyn."
He could not have said anything that was a more valuable hint toChristian. He inferred that the minister had made a confidant of Jermyn,and it was needful to be wary.
"On the contrary, sir," he answered, "it may be of the utmost importanceto you that what passes between us should not be known to Mr. Jermyn."
Mr. Lyon was perplexed, and felt at once that he was no more in cleardaylight concerning Jermyn than concerning Christian. He dared notneglect the possible duty of hearing what this man had to say, and heinvited him to proceed to Malthouse Yard, where they could converse inprivate.
Once in Mr. Lyon's study, Christian opened the dialogue by saying thatsince he was in this room before it had occurred to him that the anxietyhe had observed in Mr. Lyon might be owing to some acquaintance withMaurice Christian Bycliffe--a fellow-prisoner in France, whom he,Christian, had assisted in getting freed from his imprisonment, and who,in fact, had been the owner of the trifles which Mr. Lyon had recentlyhad in his possession and had restored. Christian hastened to say thathe knew nothing of Bycliffe's history since they had parted in France,but that he knew of his marriage with Annette Ledru, and had beenacquainted with Annette herself. He would be very glad to know whatbecame of Bycliffe, if he could, for he liked him uncommonly.
Here Christian paused; but Mr. Lyon only sat changing color andtrembling. This man's bearing and tone of mind were made repulsive tohim by being brought in contact with keenly-felt memories, and he couldnot readily summon the courage to give answers or ask questions.
"May I ask if you knew my friend Bycliffe?" said Christian, trying amore direct method.
"No, sir; I never saw him."
"Ah! well--you have seen a very striking likeness of him. It'swonderful--unaccountable; but when I saw Miss Lyon at the Free Schoolthe other day, I could have sworn she was Bycliffe's daughter."
"Sir!" said Mr. Lyon, in his deepest tone, half rising, and holding bythe arms of his chair, "these subjects touch me with too sharp a pointfor you to be justified in thrusting them on me out of mere levity. Isthere any good you seek or any injury you fear in relation to them?"
"Precisely, sir. We shall come to an understanding. Suppose I believedthat the young lady who goes by the name of Miss Lyon was the daughterof Bycliffe?"
Mr. Lyon moved his lips silently.
"And suppose I had reason to suspect that there would be some greatadvantage for her if the law knew who was her father?"
"Sir!" said Mr. Lyon, shaken out of all reticence. "I would not concealit. She believes herself to be my daughter. But I will bear all thingsrather than deprive her of a right. Nevertheless I appeal to the pity ofany fellow-man, not to thrust himself between her and me, but to let medisclose the truth to her myself."
"All in good time," said Christian. "We must do nothing rash. Then MissLyon is Annette's child?"
The minister shivered as if the edge of a knife had been drawn acrosshis hand. But the tone of this question, by the fact that it intensifiedhis antipathy to Christian, enabled him to collect himself for what mustbe simply the endurance of a painful operation. After a moment or two hesaid more coolly, "It is true, sir. Her mother became my wife. Proceedwith any statement which may concern my d
uty."
"I have no more to say than this: if there's a prize that the law mighthand over to Bycliffe's daughter, I am much mistaken if there isn't alawyer who'll take precious good care to keep the law hoodwinked. Andthat lawyer is Mat Jermyn. Why, my good sir, if you've been takingJermyn into your confidence, you've been setting the fox to keep off theweasel. It strikes me that when you were made a little anxious aboutthose articles of poor Bycliffe's, you put Jermyn on making enquiries ofme. Eh? I think I am right?"
"I do not deny it."
"Ah!--it was very well you did, for by that means I've found that he'sgot hold of some secrets about Bycliffe which he means to stifle. Now,sir, if you desire any justice for your daughter--step-daughter, Ishould say--don't so much as wink to yourself before Jermyn; and ifyou've got any papers or things of that sort that may come in evidence,as these confounded rascals the lawyers call it, clutch them tight, forif they get into Jermyn's hands they may soon fly up the chimney. Have Isaid enough?"
"I had not purposed any further communication with Mr. Jermyn, sir;indeed, I have nothing further to communicate. Except that one factconcerning my daughter's birth, which I have erred in concealing fromher, I neither seek disclosures nor do I tremble before them."
"Then I have your word that you will be silent about this conversationbetween us? It is for your daughter's interest, mind."
"Sir, I shall be silent," said Mr. Lyon, with cold gravity. "Unless,"he added, with an acumen as to possibilities rather disturbing toChristian's confident contempt for the old man--"unless I were calledupon by some tribunal to declare the whole truth in this relation inwhich case I should submit myself to that authority of investigationwhich is a requisite of social order."
Christian departed, feeling satisfied that he had got the utmost to beobtained at present out of the Dissenting preacher, whom he had notdared to question more closely. He must look out for chance lights, andperhaps, too, he might catch a stray hint by stirring the sediment ofMr. Crowder's memory. But he must not venture on enquiries that might benoticed.
When Mr. Lyon was alone he paced up and down among his books, andthought aloud, in order to relieve himself after the constraint of thisinterview. "I will not wait for the urgency of necessity," he said morethan once. "I will tell the child without compulsion. And then I shallfear nothing. And an unwonted spirit of tenderness has filled her oflate. She will forgive me."