The Mysteries of London, Vol. II [Unabridged & Illustrated] (Valancourt Classics)

by George W. M. Reynolds

  “Your orders have been punctually obeyed.

  “I have already visited the landlady in Stamford Street, under pretence of being acquainted with a gentleman who wishes to take lodgings in that street; and I have ascertained that her last lodger—who can be none other than Mr. Vernon—resided with her three or four months. Consequently he has been in England during that period.

  “In the second place, I have discovered the address of the beautiful Georgian; and can communicate with her so soon as I receive your instructions to that effect.

  “Thirdly, I have despatched a faithful person to Beyrout; and he will return to England the moment he shall have gleaned the information specified in your instructions.”

  To this letter Eliza despatched an immediate answer, praising her faithful adherent for the skill and despatch with which he had executed her orders, and giving him certain instructions in respect to Malkhatoun.

  She then repaired to the parlour opposite Lady Ravensworth’s own apartment; for Quentin had already sent a private message by one of the female servants, intimating that he was anxious to speak to her without delay.

  When they met in the parlour, Eliza heard with profound astonishment the extraordinary narrative which the valet had to relate to her.

  “Some deed of mystery and crime has been doubtless perpetrated,” observed Eliza; “but it cannot possibly bear any reference to the atrocious plot which Gilbert Vernon is meditating against the happiness of his sister-in-law and the life of her child. I will now tell you that the villain who passes in this house as James White is in reality a certain Anthony Tidkins, known amongst his associates in crime as the Resurrection Man.”

  “I have heard of him, madam,” said Quentin, with a shudder. “And, by the by—was it not this same wretch who lately escaped in so extraordinary a manner from the Middlesex House of Correction? The affair was in all the newspapers.”

  “He is the same person,” answered Eliza.

  “Oh! madam,” cried Quentin, somewhat reproachfully; “it is not for me to dictate to you—but since you have discovered who this man is, how could you permit him to remain for one single day at large?—why should he be allowed to take his place at the same table with honest people?”

  “I admit that such society must be abhorrent in the extreme,” answered Eliza, mildly but firmly: “I also acknowledge that for a short space I am depriving justice of its due. Listen, however, to my reasons. Gilbert Vernon is a man of so desperate a character that he will hesitate at no crime which will make him master of the lands and title of Ravensworth. I have every reason to believe that he caused the death of his brother: I have equally good grounds for suspecting him of an intention to murder his nephew. As speedily as circumstances will permit am I adopting measures to collect evidence that will place his guilt beyond all doubt. But until that evidence be obtained, we must excite in his mind no suspicion that there are counter-schemes in progress. Were we to do so, it is impossible to imagine what desperate deed he might immediately risk in furtherance of his aims.”

  “But suspicions are already so strong against him, madam,” observed Quentin, “that a magistrate would grant a warrant for his apprehension.”

  “And if the evidence against him were found to be incomplete and vague, as it indeed now is,” answered Eliza, “he would soon be at large again to pursue his detestable machinations. No, Quentin: your good sense must show you that it is better to take no decisive step until our evidence shall be so complete that it will serve two objects—namely, to punish him for the crime he has already committed, and thereby release your lady and her son from any future danger at his hands.”

  “I submit to your superior judgment, madam,” said Quentin. “But in respect to this Anthony Tidkins—this James White—this villain who is now quartered upon us——”

  “Until you ere now communicated to me those strange and horrifying incidents of last night,” interrupted Eliza, “my intention was to leave that miscreant also unmolested, for fear that by handing him over to justice Gilbert Vernon might be led to perceive that he also was suspected. But the narrative of last night’s adventure involves so serious a matter that I am for a moment at a loss what course to pursue. In any case it will be better to ascertain the nature of the object which the villain buried at the foot of the tree; and probably we shall thereby discover some clue to the elucidation if this mystery. In the meantime, I conjure you to keep your lips sealed in respect to all these topics of fearful interest. Lady Ravensworth is in so nervous and agitated a state, that I shall not acquaint her with the incidents of which you were last night a spectator, until she be better able to support the terrors of so frightful a narrative. But to-night, Quentin, you must visit the spot where the villain buried some object in the earth: you will ascertain what that object is;—and we will then decide upon the proper course which we ought to pursue.”

  Quentin could not help admiring the strength of mind, the sagacity, and the calmness which Eliza Sydney displayed in her self-imposed task of countermining the dark plots of the Honourable Gilbert Vernon. Though but a servant, he was himself shrewd, intelligent, and well-informed; and he was not one of those obstinate men who refuse to acknowledge to themselves the superiority of a female mind, where such superiority really exists. He accordingly expressed his readiness to follow Eliza’s counsel in all things connected with their present business; and he also promised that he would not by his conduct towards Tidkins excite in that individual’s mind any idea that he was known or suspected.

  He and Eliza Sydney then separated.

  We must pause for a moment to explain the system of argument upon which this lady’s present proceedings were based.

  “If,” she said to herself, “Tidkins be delivered up to justice, it is possible that he will not turn upon his employer Vernon, who might readily account for having such a villain in his service by declaring that he was entirely ignorant of his true character when he engaged him as a valet. Again, were Vernon immediately accused of the murder of his brother, the evidence would be slight unless it were proved not only that the tobacco was really poisoned, but also that it was the same which Vernon had sent to Lord Ravensworth. For the only positive ground of suspicion which can as yet be adduced against him, is that he has been some time in England while he represented himself to have been still dwelling in the East. But this circumstance might be disposed of by some feasible excuse on his part, and would also be inefficient unless coupled with more conclusive evidence. In a month I shall probably be able to collect all the testimony I require; and it is not likely that Vernon will immediately attempt the life of the infant heir, as such a deed following so closely upon the death of the late lord would of itself afford matter of serious inquiry and arouse suspicions against him. It is therefore necessary to remain tranquil for the present, until the day arrives when the machinations of Gilbert Vernon may be crushed for ever by the same blow that shall punish him for his past crimes!”

  * * *

  Ravensworth Hall was now the scene of plot and counter-plot,—of fears, suspicions, and a variety of conflicting passions.

  While Quentin and Eliza Sydney were engaged in the conversation above related, the following discourse took place between the Resurrection Man and Gilbert Vernon in the bed-chamber of the latter.

  “I don’t think I shall relish this monotonous kind of life long,” said Tidkins. “Bustle and activity are what I like. Besides, I can’t say that I’m altogether without fears; for that description of my person which was published after my escape from Coldbath Fields, was so infernally correct that even this white neck-cloth, and brand new suit of black, and the cropping of my hair, and so on, haven’t changed me enough to make all safe.”

  “Nonsense!” exclaimed Vernon, impatiently. “Who would think of looking for you at Ravensworth Hall? who would suspect that the valet of one in my station is what he real
ly is?”

  “But where is the use of putting the thing off for a month or six weeks?” asked Tidkins.

  “Because it would appear strange—too strange that such an event should occur only a few days after my arrival at the Hall,” answered Vernon. “You must be guided by me in this respect. The scheme to get rid of the brat is your own—and a good one it is too. Nothing could be better. But you really must allow me to have my own way as to the time when it is to be put into execution.”

  “Well, well,” growled Tidkins: “be it so. For my part, however, I don’t see how it is to be put into execution at all, if Lady Ravensworth remains cooped up with the brat in her own room, as she did all yesterday, and seems disposed to do again to-day, by what the servants said at breakfast just now.”

  “That certainly embarrasses me,” observed Vernon. “It was my intention, as I before informed you, to remain here for a few weeks and ingratiate myself as much as possible with my sister-in-law, and get into the habit of fondling the child. Faugh! it almost makes me sick to think that I must take the snivelling brat from its nurse, and dandle it about for half-an-hour at a time, so as to save appearances at least. But, as you say, Lady Ravensworth seems determined that I shall have no chance of playing the amiable at all; for she keeps her room with that widow friend of hers who came so cursed inopportunely. It cannot be that Adeline suspects me? And yet the strange way in which she received me—the impression my voice made upon her——”

  “Which proves that she really was concealed in those ruins, for some purpose or another, when we met there,” interrupted the Resurrection Man.

  “But I am convinced that nothing which then passed between us, gave her any hint concerning our projects,” said Vernon; “for when I denied that it was my voice which she had heard, she afterwards became convinced that the mere coincidence of a resemblance of tones had deceived her. Had any other circumstance tended to corroborate her first impression, she would not have hesitated to mention it. But to return to what we were ere now talking of. If my sister-in-law should persist in keeping her own chamber, I shall request an interview with her; and the result will teach me how to act.”

  “And suppose she really is afraid of you,—suppose she suddenly leaves the Hall, and proceeds to town,—or suppose she sends for her friends and relations to keep her company here,” exclaimed Tidkins; “how will you act then?”

  “She will not quit the Hall,” replied Vernon. “Decency compels her to live in retirement at the country-sat during the first few months of her widowhood; and Lord and Lady Rossville, her parents, are kept in London by the parliamentary duties of his lordship.”

  “I think I know a way to make her leave her room,” said Tidkins, with some little hesitation, and after a few moments’ pause.

  “You!” cried Vernon, turning shortly round, and surveying his ill-favoured accomplice with astonishment.

  “Yes—me,” answered the Resurrection Man, coolly. “If I could only speak to her alone for a few minutes, I’m very much mistaken if I can’t do what I say.”

  “Impossible—ridiculous!” ejaculated Vernon.

  “I say that it’s neither impossible or ridiculous,” rejoined Tidkins, angrily.

  “But how will you manage it? what will you say to her?” demanded Vernon, more and more surprised; for he knew that the Resurrection Man was not accustomed to boast without the power of performing.

  “All that is my own secret,” answered Tidkins. “If you question me from now till the end of next month, I won’t satisfy you. That’s my rule—and I always act on it. Now, all I have to say is that if you will procure me a private meeting with your sister-in-law, I’ll engage that she shall leave her room—unless she really is very ill—and take her seat at the dinner-table to-day.”

  “But this is so extraordinary,” cried Vernon, “that unless you know something wherewith to over-awe her—and let me tell you that she is not a woman to be frightened by empty menace——”

  “Leave all that to me, Mr. Vernon,” said the Resurrection Man, coolly. “Accept my proposal, or refuse it, as you like;—but don’t question me.”

  “You are really a wonderful man, Tidkins,” observed Gilbert, slowly; “and you are not in the habit of talking for talking’s sake. If you feel convinced that you will succeed—if you do not incur the risk of spoiling all——”

  “I am not such a fool as that,” interrupted the other, gruffly.

  “Then I will endeavour to bring about the interview which you desire,” said Vernon.

  And, without farther hesitation—though not entirely without misgiving—he sate down to pen a brief note to his sister-in-law, requesting an interview at her leisure.

  * * *

  An hour afterwards Lady Ravensworth proceeded alone to one of the drawing-rooms.

  Eliza Sydney had offered no objection to this interview which Mr. Vernon had demanded with his sister-in-law: on the contrary, she was afraid that his suspicions would be excited were it refused.

  On her part, Adeline was far from feeling annoyed at the request contained in Vernon’s letter; for she had been a prey to the most acute suspense ever since she had recognised the Resurrection Man in her brother-in-law’s valet.

  Her guilty conscience led her at one moment to believe that Tidkins was certain to discover that Ravensworth Hall was the scene of the mysterious murder in which he was her instrument; and at another time she persuaded herself that her plans had been too prudently adopted to admit of such an elucidation.

  “Oh! if that dreadful man should obtain a clue to the real truth,” she thought, as she repaired to the drawing-room, “how completely should I be in his power! Nay, more—he might communicate his discovery to Vernon; and then——but I cannot dwell upon so terrible an idea! My God! in what torture do I exist! O Lydia Hutchinson, thy vengeance pursues me even from the other world! And now I am about to meet my brother-in-law again! Well—it is better that this interview should take place at once. It must relieve me from much terrible uncertainty—much agonising suspense. If Tidkins have already discovered the dread secret, I shall know the worst now;—and if he have not already discovered it, there is but little chance that he ever will. Let me then summon all my courage to my aid: a few minutes more, and my fate must be decided! Either I shall find myself in the power of Vernon and that horrible man; or my secret is safe! And if it be still safe—safe it shall remain;—for he could only recognise me by my voice—and I will take care never to speak in his presence! No—no: sooner than incur the risk of thus betraying my secret, I will shut myself up for ever in my own apartment—or I will fly far away from this house which has so many fearful recollections for me!”

  Thus musing, Lady Ravensworth entered the drawing-room.

  Her countenance was almost as white as marble; and this pallor was enhanced by the widow’s weeds which she wore.

  We must here observe that there was, as is usual in the well-furnished rooms of the mansions of the rich, a screen in one corner of the apartment; and on the same side were large folding-doors opening into an ante-chamber, which communicated with the passage and also with the suite of saloons intended for grand occasions.

  The moment Adeline entered the apartment, Gilbert Vernon, who was already there, rose from a sofa and hastened to meet her.

  “My dear sister,” he said, taking her hand with an air of great friendship, “I was truly sorry to hear that you were so indisposed yesterday as to be compelled to keep your chamber. May I hope that you are better to-day?”

  “I am very far from well, Mr. Vernon,” answered Adeline coldly, as she withdrew her hand somewhat hastily; for, deeply steeped in guilt as she herself was, she shrank from the touch of one whom she looked upon as the murderer of her husband and the deadly foe of her infant child.

  “You seem to avoid me purposely, Adeline,” said Gilbert, fix
ing his large grey eyes upon her in a searching manner, though she averted her looks from him: “have I offended you? or is my presence in this house irksome to you?”

  “I must candidly confess,” replied Lady Ravensworth, “that I remained at the Hall, after the sad loss which I lately sustained, with a view to avoid society—to dwell in retirement;—and neither decency nor my own inclination allow me to receive company with any degree of pleasure.”

  “Your ladyship, then, looks upon the brother of your late husband as a stranger—a mere guest?” said Vernon, biting his lip. “And yet you have no relative who is more anxious to serve you—more ready to become your true friend——”

  “My lamented husband left his affairs in such a position as to preclude the necessity of any intervention save on the part of the trustees,” observed Adeline, gathering courage when she perceived that her brother-in-law was rather inclined to conciliate than to menace.

  “Then, if such be your sentiments, Adeline,” said Gilbert, “I need intrude upon your presence no longer.”

  Thus speaking, he hastily retreated from the room through the same door by which Lady Ravensworth had entered it.

  “My secret is safe!” murmured Adeline, clasping her hands joyfully together, the moment Vernon had disappeared;—and she also was about to quit the apartment, when the screen was suddenly thrown back.

  She cast a glance of apprehension towards the spot whence the noise had emanated; and an ejaculation of horror escaped her lips.

  The Resurrection Man stood before her!

  “Don’t be frightened, my lady,” said Tidkins, advancing towards her with a smirking smile on his cadaverous countenance: “I shan’t eat you!”

  “Wretch! what means this intrusion?” cried Adeline, in a feigned voice, and endeavouring to subdue her terror so as to ward off, if possible, the danger which now menaced her.