Phineas Redux

by Anthony Trollope

  CHAPTER LI.

  "YOU THINK IT SHAMEFUL."

  The tidings of what had taken place first reached Lady Laura Kennedyfrom her brother on his return to Portman Square after the scene inthe police court. The object of his visit to Finn's lodgings hasbeen explained, but the nature of Lady Laura's vehemence in urgingupon her brother the performance of a very disagreeable task has notbeen sufficiently described. No brother would willingly go on such amission from a married sister to a man who had been publicly namedas that sister's lover;--and no brother could be less likely to doso than Lord Chiltern. But Lady Laura had been very stout in herarguments, and very strong-willed in her purpose. The income arisingfrom this money,--which had been absolutely her own,--would again beexclusively her own should the claim to it on behalf of her husband'sestate be abandoned. Surely she might do what she liked with her own.If her brother would not assist her in making this arrangement, itmust be done by other means. She was quite willing that it shouldappear to come to Mr. Finn from her father and not from herself. Didher brother think any ill of her? Did he believe in the calumnies ofthe newspapers? Did he or his wife for a moment conceive that shehad a lover? When he looked at her, worn out, withered, an old womanbefore her time, was it possible that he should so believe? Sheherself asked him these questions. Lord Chiltern of course declaredthat he had no suspicion of the kind. "No;--indeed," said Lady Laura."I defy any one to suspect me who knows me. And if so, why am notI as much entitled to help a friend as you might be? You need noteven mention my name." He endeavoured to make her understand that hername would be mentioned, and others would believe and would say evilthings. "They cannot say worse than they have said," she continued."And yet what harm have they done to me,--or you?" Then he demandedwhy she desired to go so far out of her way with the view of spendingher money upon one who was in no way connected with her. "BecauseI like him better than any one else," she answered, boldly. "Thereis very little left for which I care at all;--but I do care for hisprosperity. He was once in love with me and told me so,--but I hadchosen to give my hand to Mr. Kennedy. He is not in love with menow,--nor I with him; but I choose to regard him as my friend." Heassured her over and over again that Phineas Finn would certainlyrefuse to touch her money;--but this she declined to believe. At anyrate the trial might be made. He would not refuse money left to himby will, and why should he not now enjoy that which was intended forhim? Then she explained how certain it was that he must speedilyvanish out of the world altogether, unless some assurance of anincome were made to him. So Lord Chiltern went on his mission, hardlymeaning to make the offer, and confident that it would be refusedif made. We know the nature of the new trouble in which he foundPhineas Finn enveloped. It was such that Lord Chiltern did not openhis mouth about money, and now, having witnessed the scene at thepolice-office, he had come back to tell his tale to his sister. Shewas sitting with his wife when he entered the room.

  "Have you heard anything?" he asked at once.

  "Heard what?" said his wife.

  "Then you have not heard it. A man has been murdered."

  "What man?" said Lady Laura, jumping suddenly from her seat. "NotRobert!" Lord Chiltern shook his head. "You do not mean that Mr. Finnhas been--killed!" Again he shook his head; and then she sat down asthough the asking of the two questions had exhausted her.

  "Speak, Oswald," said his wife. "Why do you not tell us? Is it onewhom we knew?"

  "I think that Laura used to know him. Mr. Bonteen was murdered lastnight in the streets."

  "Mr. Bonteen! The man who was Mr. Finn's enemy," said Lady Chiltern.

  "Mr. Bonteen!" said Lady Laura, as though the murder of twenty Mr.Bonteens were nothing to her.

  "Yes;--the man whom you talk of as Finn's enemy. It would be betterif there were no such talk."

  "And who killed him?" said Lady Laura, again getting up and comingclose to her brother.

  "Who was it, Oswald?" asked his wife; and she also was now too deeplyinterested to keep her seat.

  "They have arrested two men," said Lord Chiltern;--"that Jew whomarried Lady Eustace, and--" But there he paused. He had determinedbeforehand that he would tell his sister the double arrest that thedoubt this implied might lessen the weight of the blow; but now hefound it almost impossible to mention the name.

  "Who is the other, Oswald?" said his wife.

  "Not Phineas," screamed Lady Laura.

  "Yes, indeed; they have arrested him, and I have just come fromthe court." He had no time to go on, for his sister was crouchingprostrate on the floor before him. She had not fainted. Women donot faint under such shocks. But in her agony she had crouched downrather than fallen, as though it were vain to attempt to standupright with so crushing a weight of sorrow on her back. She utteredone loud shriek, and then covering her face with her hands burst outinto a wail of sobs. Lady Chiltern and her brother both tried toraise her, but she would not be lifted. "Why will you not hear methrough, Laura?" said he.

  "You do not think he did it?" said his wife.

  "I'm sure he did not," replied Lord Chiltern.

  The poor woman, half-lying, half-seated, on the floor, still hidingher face with her hands, still bursting with half suppressed sobs,heard and understood both the question and the answer. But the factwas not altered to her,--nor the condition of the man she loved.She had not yet begun to think whether it were possible that heshould have been guilty of such a crime. She had heard none of thecircumstances, and knew nothing of the manner of the man's death. Itmight be that Phineas had killed the man, bringing himself within thereach of the law, and that yet he should have done nothing to merither reproaches;--hardly even her reprobation! Hitherto she felt onlythe sorrow, the annihilation of the blow;--but not the shame withwhich it would overwhelm the man for whom she so much coveted thegood opinion of the world.

  "You hear what he says, Laura."

  "They are determined to destroy him," she sobbed out, through hertears.

  "They are not determined to destroy him at all," said Lord Chiltern."It will have to go by evidence. You had better sit up and let metell you all. I will tell you nothing till you are seated again. Youdisgrace yourself by sprawling there."

  "Do not be hard to her, Oswald."

  "I am disgraced," said Lady Laura, slowly rising and placing herselfagain on the sofa. "If there is anything more to tell, you can tellit. I do not care what happens to me now, or who knows it. Theycannot make my life worse than it is."

  Then he told all the story,--of the quarrel, and the position of thestreets, of the coat, and the bludgeon, and the three blows, each onthe head, by which the man had been killed. And he told them also howthe Jew was said never to have been out of his bed, and how the Jew'scoat was not the coat Lord Fawn had seen, and how no stain of bloodhad been found about the raiment of either of the men. "It was theJew who did it, Oswald, surely," said Lady Chiltern.

  "It was not Phineas Finn who did it," he replied.

  "And they will let him go again?"

  "They will let him go when they find out the truth, I suppose. Butthose fellows blunder so, I would never trust them. He will get somesharp lawyer to look into it; and then perhaps everything will comeout. I shall go and see him to-morrow. But there is nothing furtherto be done."

  "And I must see him," said Lady Laura slowly.

  Lady Chiltern looked at her husband, and his face became redder thanusual with an angry flush. When his sister had pressed him to takeher message about the money, he had assured her that he suspected herof no evil. Nor had he ever thought evil of her. Since her marriagewith Mr. Kennedy, he had seen but little of her or of her ways oflife. When she had separated herself from her husband he had approvedof the separation, and had even offered to assist her should shebe in difficulty. While she had been living a sad lonely life atDresden, he had simply pitied her, declaring to himself and his wifethat her lot in life had been very hard. When these calumnies abouther and Phineas Finn had reached his ears,--or his eyes,--as suchcalumnies always will reach the ears
and eyes of those whom theyare most capable of hurting, he had simply felt a desire to crushsome Quintus Slide, or the like, into powder for the offence. He hadreceived Phineas in his own house with all his old friendship. He hadeven this morning been with the accused man as almost his closestfriend. But, nevertheless, there was creeping into his heart a senseof the shame with which he would be afflicted, should the worldreally be taught to believe that the man had been his sister's lover.Lady Laura's distress on the present occasion was such as a wifemight show, or a girl weeping for her lover, or a mother for her son,or a sister for a brother; but was extravagant and exaggerated inregard to such friendship as might be presumed to exist between thewife of Mr. Robert Kennedy and the member for Tankerville. He couldsee that his wife felt this as he did, and he thought it necessaryto say something at once, that might force his sister to moderate atany rate her language, if not her feelings. Two expressions of facewere natural to him; one eloquent of good humour, in which the readerof countenances would find some promise of coming frolic;--andthe other, replete with anger, sometimes to the extent almost ofsavagery. All those who were dependent on him were wont to watchhis face with care and sometimes with fear. When he was angry itwould almost seem that he was about to use personal violence on theobject of his wrath. At the present moment he was rather grieved thanenraged; but there came over his face that look of wrath with whichall who knew him were so well acquainted. "You cannot see him," hesaid.

  "Why not I, as well as you?"

  "If you do not understand, I cannot tell you. But you must not seehim;--and you shall not."

  "Who will hinder me?"

  "If you put me to it, I will see that you are hindered. What is theman to you that you should run the risk of evil tongues, for the sakeof visiting him in gaol? You cannot save his life,--though it may bethat you might endanger it."

  "Oswald," she said very slowly, "I do not know that I am in any wayunder your charge, or bound to submit to your orders."

  "You are my sister."

  "And I have loved you as a sister. How should it be possible that myseeing him should endanger his life?"

  "It will make people think that the things are true which have beensaid."

  "And will they hang him because I love him? I do love him. Violetknows how well I have always loved him." Lord Chiltern turned hisangry face upon his wife. Lady Chiltern put her arm round hersister-in-law's waist, and whispered some words into her ear. "Whatis that to me?" continued the half-frantic woman. "I do love him. Ihave always loved him. I shall love him to the end. He is all my lifeto me."

  "Shame should prevent your telling it," said Lord Chiltern.

  "I feel no shame. There is no disgrace in love. I did disgracemyself when I gave the hand for which he asked to another man,because,--because--" But she was too noble to tell her brother eventhen that at the moment of her life to which she was alluding she hadmarried the rich man, rejecting the poor man's hand, because she hadgiven up all her fortune to the payment of her brother's debts. Andhe, though he had well known what he had owed to her, and had neverbeen easy till he had paid the debt, remembered nothing of all thisnow. No lending and paying back of money could alter the natureeither of his feelings or his duty in such an emergency as this."And, mind you," she continued, turning to her sister-in-law, "thereis no place for the shame of which he is thinking," and she pointedher finger out at her brother. "I love him,--as a mother might loveher child, I fancy; but he has no love for me; none;--none. When I amwith him, I am only a trouble to him. He comes to me, because he isgood; but he would sooner be with you. He did love me once;--but thenI could not afford to be so loved."

  "You can do no good by seeing him," said her brother.

  "But I will see him. You need not scowl at me as though you wishedto strike me. I have gone through that which makes me different fromother women, and I care not what they say of me. Violet understandsit all;--but you understand nothing."

  "Be calm, Laura," said her sister-in-law, "and Oswald will do allthat can be done."

  "But they will hang him."

  "Nonsense!" said her brother. "He has not been as yet committed forhis trial. Heaven knows how much has to be done. It is as likely asnot that in three days' time he will be out at large, and all theworld will be running after him just because he has been in Newgate."

  "But who will look after him?"

  "He has plenty of friends. I will see that he is not left withouteverything that he wants."

  "But he will want money."

  "He has plenty of money for that. Do you take it quietly, and notmake a fool of yourself. If the worst comes to the worst--"

  "Oh, heavens!"

  "Listen to me, if you can listen. Should the worst come to the worst,which I believe to be altogether impossible,--mind, I think it nextto impossible, for I have never for a moment believed him to beguilty,--we will,--visit him,--together. Good-bye now. I am goingto see that friend of his, Mr. Low." So saying Lord Chiltern went,leaving the two women together.

  "Why should he be so savage with me?" said Lady Laura.

  "He does not mean to be savage."

  "Does he speak to you like that? What right has he to tell me ofshame? Has my life been so bad, and his so good? Do you think itshameful that I should love this man?" She sat looking into herfriend's face, but her friend for a while hesitated to answer. "Youshall tell me, Violet. We have known each other so well that I canbear to be told by you. Do not you love him?"

  "I love him!--certainly not."

  "But you did."

  "Not as you mean. Who can define love, and say what it is? There areso many kinds of love. We say that we love the Queen."

  "Psha!"

  "And we are to love all our neighbours. But as men and women talk oflove, I never at any moment of my life loved any man but my husband.Mr. Finn was a great favourite with me,--always."

  "Indeed he was."

  "As any other man might be,--or any woman. He is so still, and withall my heart I hope that this may be untrue."

  "It is false as the Devil. It must be false. Can you think of theman,--his sweetness, the gentle nature of him, his open, free speech,and courage, and believe that he would go behind his enemy and knockhis brains out in the dark? I can conceive it of myself, that Ishould do it, much easier than of him."

  "Oswald says it is false."

  "But he says it as partly believing that it is true. If it be true Iwill hang myself. There will be nothing left among men or women fitto live for. You think it shameful that I should love him."

  "I have not said so."

  "But you do."

  "I think there is cause for shame in your confessing it."

  "I do confess it."

  "You ask me, and press me, and because we have loved one another sowell I must answer you. If a woman,--a married woman,--be oppressedby such a feeling, she should lay it down at the bottom of her heart,out of sight, never mentioning it, even to herself."

  "You talk of the heart as though we could control it."

  "The heart will follow the thoughts, and they may be controlled. Iam not passionate, perhaps, as you are, and I think I can controlmy heart. But my fortune has been kind to me, and I have never beentempted. Laura, do not think I am preaching to you."

  "Oh no;--but your husband; think of him, and think of mine! You havebabies."

  "May God make me thankful. I have every good thing on earth that Godcan give."

  "And what have I? To see that man prosper in life, who they tell meis a murderer; that man who is now in a felon's gaol,--whom theywill hang for ought we know,--to see him go forward and justifymy thoughts of him! that yesterday was all I had. To-day I havenothing,--except the shame with which you and Oswald say that I havecovered myself."

  "Laura, I have never said so."

  "I saw it in your eye when he accused me. And I know that it isshameful. I do know that I am covered with shame. But I can bear myown disgrace better than his danger." After a long pause,--a silenceof probably some fi
fteen minutes,--she spoke again. "If Robert shoulddie,--what would happen then?"

  "It would be--a release, I suppose," said Lady Chiltern in a voice solow, that it was almost a whisper.

  "A release indeed;--and I would become that man's wife the next day,at the foot of the gallows;--if he would have me. But he would nothave me."