Two on a Tower

by Thomas Hardy

  XXXIX

  Louis got up the next morning with an idea in his head. He had dressedfor a journey, and breakfasted hastily.

  Before he had started Viviette came downstairs. Louis, who was nowgreatly disturbed about her, went up to his sister and took her hand.

  '_Aux grands maux les grands remedes_,' he said, gravely. 'I have a plan.'

  'I have a dozen!' said she.

  'You have?'

  'Yes. But what are they worth? And yet there must--there _must_ be away!'

  'Viviette,' said Louis, 'promise that you will wait till I come home to-night, before you do anything.'

  Her distracted eyes showed slight comprehension of his request as shesaid 'Yes.'

  An hour after that time Louis entered the train at Warborne, and wasspeedily crossing a country of ragged woodland, which, though intruded onby the plough at places, remained largely intact from prehistoric times,and still abounded with yews of gigantic growth and oaks tufted withmistletoe. It was the route to Melchester.

  On setting foot in that city he took the cathedral spire as his guide,the place being strange to him; and went on till he reached the archwaydividing Melchester sacred from Melchester secular. Thence he threadedhis course into the precincts of the damp and venerable Close, level as abowling-green, and beloved of rooks, who from their elm perches on highthreatened any unwary gazer with the mishap of Tobit. At the corner ofthis reposeful spot stood the episcopal palace.

  Louis entered the gates, rang the bell, and looked around. Here thetrees and rooks seemed older, if possible, than those in the Close behindhim. Everything was dignified, and he felt himself like Punchinello inthe king's chambers. Verily in the present case Glanville was not a manto stick at trifles any more than his illustrious prototype; and on theservant bringing a message that his lordship would see him at once, Louismarched boldly in.

  Through an old dark corridor, roofed with old dark beams, the servant ledthe way to the heavily-moulded door of the Bishop's room. Dr. Helmsdalewas there, and welcomed Louis with considerable stateliness. But hiscondescension was tempered with a curious anxiety, and even withnervousness.

  He asked in pointed tones after the health of Lady Constantine; if Louishad brought an answer to the letter he had addressed to her a day or twoearlier; and if the contents of the letter, or of the previous one, wereknown to him.

  'I have brought no answer from her,' said Louis. 'But the contents ofyour letter have been made known to me.'

  Since entering the building Louis had more than once felt somehesitation, and it might now, with a favouring manner from hisentertainer, have operated to deter him from going further with hisintention. But the Bishop had personal weaknesses that were fatal tosympathy for more than a moment.

  'Then I may speak in confidence to you as her nearest relative,' said theprelate, 'and explain that I am now in a position with regard to LadyConstantine which, in view of the important office I hold, I should nothave cared to place myself in unless I had felt quite sure of not beingrefused by her. And hence it is a great grief, and some mortification tome, that I was refused--owing, of course, to the fact that I unwittinglyrisked making my proposal at the very moment when she was under theinfluence of those strange tidings, and therefore not herself, andscarcely able to judge what was best for her.'

  The Bishop's words disclosed a mind whose sensitive fear of danger to itsown dignity hindered it from criticism elsewhere. Things might have beenworse for Louis's Puck-like idea of mis-mating his Hermia with thisDemetrius.

  Throwing a strong colour of earnestness into his mien he replied:'Bishop, Viviette is my only sister; I am her only brother and friend. Iam alarmed for her health and state of mind. Hence I have come toconsult you on this very matter that you have broached. I comeabsolutely without her knowledge, and I hope unconventionality may beexcused in me on the score of my anxiety for her.'

  'Certainly. I trust that the prospect opened up by my proposal, combinedwith this other news, has not proved too much for her?'

  'My sister is distracted and distressed, Bishop Helmsdale. She wantscomfort.'

  'Not distressed by my letter?' said the Bishop, turning red. 'Has itlowered me in her estimation?'

  'On the contrary; while your disinterested offer was uppermost in hermind she was a different woman. It is this other matter that oppressesher. The result upon her of the recent discovery with regard to the lateSir Blount Constantine is peculiar. To say that he ill-used her in hislifetime is to understate a truth. He has been dead now a considerableperiod; but this revival of his memory operates as a sort of terror uponher. Images of the manner of Sir Blount's death are with her night andday, intensified by a hideous picture of the supposed scene, which wascruelly sent her. She dreads being alone. Nothing will restore my poorViviette to her former cheerfulness but a distraction--a hope--a newprospect.'

  'That is precisely what acceptance of my offer would afford.'

  'Precisely,' said Louis, with great respect. 'But how to get her toavail herself of it, after once refusing you, is the difficulty, and myearnest problem.'

  'Then we are quite at one.'

  'We are. And it is to promote our wishes that I am come; since she willdo nothing of herself.'

  'Then you can give me no hope of a reply to my second communication?'

  'None whatever--by letter,' said Louis. 'Her impression plainly is thatshe cannot encourage your lordship. Yet, in the face of all thisreticence, the secret is that she loves you warmly.'

  'Can you indeed assure me of that? Indeed, indeed!' said the good Bishopmusingly. 'Then I must try to see her. I begin to feel--to feelstrongly--that a course which would seem premature and unbecoming inother cases would be true and proper conduct in this. Her unhappydilemmas--her unwonted position--yes, yes--I see it all! I can afford tohave some little misconstruction put upon my motives. I will go and seeher immediately. Her past has been a cruel one; she wants sympathy; andwith Heaven's help I'll give it.'

  'I think the remedy lies that way,' said Louis gently. 'Some words camefrom her one night which seemed to show it. I was standing on theterrace: I heard somebody sigh in the dark, and found that it was she. Iasked her what was the matter, and gently pressed her on this subject ofboldly and promptly contracting a new marriage as a means of dispersingthe horrors of the old. Her answer implied that she would have noobjection to do it, and to do it at once, provided she could remainexternally passive in the matter, that she would tacitly yield, in fact,to pressure, but would not meet solicitation half-way. Now, BishopHelmsdale, you see what has prompted me. On the one hand is a dignitaryof high position and integrity, to say no more, who is anxious to saveher from the gloom of her situation on the other is this sister, whowill not make known to you her willingness to be saved--partly fromapathy, partly from a fear that she may be thought forward in respondingfavourably at so early a moment, partly also, perhaps, from a modestsense that there would be some sacrifice on your part in allying yourselfwith a woman of her secluded and sad experience.'

  'O, there is no sacrifice! Quite otherwise. I care greatly for thisalliance, Mr. Glanville. Your sister is very dear to me. Moreover, theadvantages her mind would derive from the enlarged field of activity thatthe position of a bishop's wife would afford, are palpable. I am inducedto think that an early settlement of the question--an immediate coming tothe point--which might be called too early in the majority of cases,would be a right and considerate tenderness here. My only dread is thatshe should think an immediate following up of the subject premature. Andthe risk of a rebuff a second time is one which, as you must perceive, itwould be highly unbecoming in me to run.'

  'I think the risk would be small, if your lordship would approach herfrankly. Write she will not, I am assured; and knowing that, and havingher interest at heart, I was induced to come to you and make this candidstatement in reply to your communication. Her late husband having beenvirtually dead these four or five years, believed dead two
years, andactually dead nearly one, no reproach could attach to her if she were tocontract another union to-morrow.'

  'I agree with you, Mr. Glanville,' said the Bishop warmly. 'I will thinkthis over. Her motive in not replying I can quite understand: yourmotive in coming I can also understand and appreciate in a brother. If Ifeel convinced that it would be a seemly and expedient thing I will cometo Welland to-morrow.'

  The point to which Louis had brought the Bishop being so satisfactory, hefeared to endanger it by another word. He went away almost hurriedly,and at once left the precincts of the cathedral, lest another encounterwith Dr. Helmsdale should lead the latter to take a new and slower viewof his duties as Viviette's suitor.

  He reached Welland by dinner-time, and came upon Viviette in the samepensive mood in which he had left her. It seemed she had hardly movedsince.

  'Have you discovered Swithin St. Cleeve's address?' she said, withoutlooking up at him.

  'No,' said Louis.

  Then she broke out with indescribable anguish: 'But you asked me to waittill this evening; and I have waited through the long day, in the beliefthat your words meant something, and that you would bring good tidings!And now I find your words meant nothing, and you have _not_ brought goodtidings!'

  Louis could not decide for a moment what to say to this. Should heventure to give her thoughts a new course by a revelation of his design?No: it would be better to prolong her despair yet another night, andspring relief upon her suddenly, that she might jump at it and commitherself without an interval for reflection on certain aspects of theproceeding.

  Nothing, accordingly, did he say; and conjecturing that she would behardly likely to take any desperate step that night, he left her toherself.

  His anxiety at this crisis continued to be great. Everything depended onthe result of the Bishop's self-communion. Would he or would he not comethe next day? Perhaps instead of his important presence there wouldappear a letter postponing the visit indefinitely. If so, all would belost.

  Louis's suspense kept him awake, and he was not alone in hissleeplessness. Through the night he heard his sister walking up anddown, in a state which betokened that for every pang of grief she haddisclosed, twice as many had remained unspoken. He almost feared thatshe might seek to end her existence by violence, so unreasonably suddenwere her moods; and he lay and longed for the day.

  It was morning. She came down the same as usual, and asked if there hadarrived any telegram or letter; but there was neither. Louis avoidedher, knowing that nothing he could say just then would do her any good.

  No communication had reached him from the Bishop, and that looked well.By one ruse and another, as the day went on, he led her away fromcontemplating the remote possibility of hearing from Swithin, and inducedher to look at the worst contingency as her probable fate. It seemed asif she really made up her mind to this, for by the afternoon she wasapathetic, like a woman who neither hoped nor feared.

  And then a fly drove up to the door.

  Louis, who had been standing in the hall the greater part of that day,glanced out through a private window, and went to Viviette. 'The Bishophas called,' he said. 'Be ready to see him.'

  'The Bishop of Melchester?' said Viviette, bewildered.

  'Yes. I asked him to come. He comes for an answer to his letters.'

  'An answer--to--his--letters?' she murmured.

  'An immediate reply of yes or no.'

  Her face showed the workings of her mind. How entirely an answer ofassent, at once acted on for better or for worse, would clear the spectrefrom her path, there needed no tongue to tell. It would, moreover,accomplish that end without involving the impoverishment of Swithin--theinevitable result if she had adopted the legitimate road out of hertrouble. Hitherto there had seemed to her dismayed mind, unenlightenedas to any course save one of honesty, no possible achievement of _both_her desires--the saving of Swithin and the saving of herself. Butbehold, here was a way! A tempter had shown it to her. It involved agreat wrong, which to her had quite obscured its feasibility. But sheperceived now that it was indeed a way. Nature was forcing her hand atthis game; and to what will not nature compel her weaker victims, inextremes?

  Louis left her to think it out. When he reached the drawing-room Dr.Helmsdale was standing there with the air of a man too good for hisdestiny--which, to be just to him, was not far from the truth this time.

  'Have you broken my message to her?' asked the Bishop sonorously.

  'Not your message; your visit,' said Louis. 'I leave the rest in yourLordship's hands. I have done all I can for her.'

  She was in her own small room to-day; and, feeling that it must be a boldstroke or none, he led the Bishop across the hall till he reached herapartment and opened the door; but instead of following he shut it behindhis visitor.

  Then Glanville passed an anxious time. He walked from the foot of thestaircase to the star of old swords and pikes on the wall; from these tothe stags' horns; thence down the corridor as far as the door, where hecould hear murmuring inside, but not its import. The longer theyremained closeted the more excited did he become. That she had notperemptorily negatived the proposal at the outset was a strong sign ofits success. It showed that she had admitted argument; and the worthyBishop had a pleader on his side whom he knew little of. The veryweather seemed to favour Dr. Helmsdale in his suit. A blusterous windhad blown up from the west, howling in the smokeless chimneys, andsuggesting to the feminine mind storms at sea, a tossing ocean, and thehopeless inaccessibility of all astronomers and men on the other side ofthe same.

  The Bishop had entered Viviette's room at ten minutes past three. Thelong hand of the hall clock lay level at forty-five minutes past when theknob of the door moved, and he came out. Louis met him where the passagejoined the hall.

  Dr. Helmsdale was decidedly in an emotional state, his face beingslightly flushed. Louis looked his anxious inquiry without speaking it.

  'She accepts me,' said the Bishop in a low voice. 'And the wedding is tobe soon. Her long solitude and sufferings justify haste. What you saidwas true. Sheer weariness and distraction have driven her to me. Shewas quite passive at last, and agreed to anything I proposed--such is thepersuasive force of trained logical reasoning! A good and wise woman,she perceived what a true shelter from sadness was offered in me, and wasnot the one to despise Heaven's gift.'