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CHAPTER XXXVIII
George had spoken no falsehood when he said that he felt as though hemust marry Angela or go mad. Indeed, it is a striking proof of hownecessary he thought that step to be to his happiness, that he hadbeen willing to consent to his cousin's Shylock-like terms about thesale of the property, although they would in their result degrade himfrom his position as a large landed proprietor, and make acomparatively poor man of him. The danger or suffering that couldinduce a Caresfoot to half ruin himself with his eyes open had need tobe of an extraordinarily pressing nature.
Love's empire is this globe and all mankind; the most refined and themost degraded, the cleverest and the most stupid, are all liable tobecome his faithful subjects. He can alike command the devotion of anarchbishop and a South-Sea Islander, of the most immaculate maidenlady (whatever her age) and of the savage Zulu girl. From the pole tothe equator, and from the equator to the further pole, there is nomonarch like Love. Where he sets his foot, the rocks bloom withflowers, or the garden becomes a wilderness, according to his good-will and pleasure, and at his whisper all other allegiances melt awaylike ropes of mud. He is the real arbiter of the destinies of theworld.
But to each nature of all the millions beneath his sway, Love comes ina fitting guise, to some as an angel messenger, telling of sympathyand peace, and a strange new hope; to others draped in sad robesindeed, but still divine. Thus when he visits such a one as GeorgeCaresfoot, it is as a potent fiend, whose mission is to enter throughman's lower nature, to torture and destroy; to scorch the heart withfearful heats, and then to crush it, and leave its owner's bosomchoked with bitter dust.
And, so far as George is concerned, there is no doubt but what thework was done right well, for under the influence of what is, withdoubtful propriety, known as the "tender passion," that estimablecharacter was rapidly drifting within a measurable distance of alunatic asylum. The checks and repulses that he had met with, insteadof cooling his ardour, had only the effect of inflaming it to anextraordinary degree. Angela's scornful dislike, as water thrown uponburning oil, did but diffuse the flames of his passion throughout thewhole system of his mind, till he grew wild with its heat andviolence. Her glorious beauty daily took a still stronger hold uponhis imagination, till it scorched into his very soul. For whole nightshe could not sleep, for whole days he would scarcely eat or doanything but walk, walk, walk, and try to devise means to win her tohis side. The irritation of the mind produced its natural effects uponhis conduct, and he would burst into fits of the most causeless fury.In one of these he dismissed every servant in the house, and so evilwas his reputation among that class, that he had great difficulty inobtaining others to take their place. In another he hurled a heavy potcontaining an azalea-bush at the head of one of the gardeners, and hadto compromise an action for assault. In short, the lunatic asylumloomed very near indeed.
For a week or so after the memorable night of his interview withPhilip, an interview that he, at least, would never forget, George wasquite unable, try as he would, to get a single word with Angela.
At last, one day, when he was driving, by a seldom-used road, past thefields near the Abbey House on his way from Roxham, chance gave himthe opportunity that he had for so long sought without success. For,far up a by-lane that led to a turnip-field, his eye caught sight ofthe flutter of a grey dress vanishing round a corner, something in themake of which suggested to him that Angela was its wearer. Giving thereins to the servant, and bidding him drive on home, he got out of thedog-cart and hurried up the grassy track, and on turning the cornercame suddenly upon the object of his search. She was standing on thebank of the hedge-row, and struggling with a bough of honeysuckle fromwhich she wished to pluck its last remaining autumn bloom. So engagedwas she that she did not hear his step, and it was not until his hardvoice grated on her ear, that she knew that she was trapped.
"Caught at last. You have given me a pretty hunt, Angela."
The violent start she gave effectually carried out her purpose asregards the honeysuckle, which snapped in two under the strain of herbackward jerk, and she turned round upon him panting with fear andexertion, the flowery bough grasped within her hand.
"Am I, then, a wild creature, that you should hunt me so?"
"Yes, you are the loveliest and the wildest of creatures, and, now Ihave caught you, you must listen to me."
"I will not listen to you; you have nothing to say to me that caninterest me. I will not listen to you."
George laughed a little--a threatening, nervous laugh.
"I am accustomed to have my own way, Angela, and I am not going togive it up now. You must and you shall listen. I have got myopportunity at last, and I mean to use it. I am sorry to have to speakso roughly, but you have only yourself to thank; you have driven me toit."
His determination frightened her, and she took refuge in an armour ofcalm and freezing contempt.
"I don't understand you," she said.
"On the contrary, you understand me very well. You always avoid me; Ican never see you, try how I will. Perhaps," he went on, still talkingquite quietly, "if you knew what a hell there is in my heart and brainyou would not treat me so. I tell you that I am in torture," and themuscles of the pallid face twitched in a way that went far to confirmhis words.
"I do not understand your meaning, unless, indeed, you are trying tofrighten and insult me, as you have done before," answered Angela.
Poor girl, she did not know what else to say; she was not of a nervousdisposition, but there was something about George's manner thatalarmed her very much, and she glanced anxiously around to see if anyone was within call, but the place was lonely as the grave.
"There is no need for you to look for help, I wish neither to frightennor insult you; my suit is an honourable one enough. I wish you topromise to marry me, that is all; you must and shall promise it, Iwill take no refusal. You were made for me and I for you; it is quiteuseless for you to resist me, for you must marry me at last. I loveyou, and by that right you belong to me. I love you--I love you."
"You--love--me--you----"
"Yes, I do, and why should you look at me like that? I cannot help it,you are so beautiful; if you knew your loveliness, you wouldunderstand me. I love those grey eyes of yours, even when they flashand burn as they do now. Ah! they shall look softly at me yet, andthose sweet lips that curl so scornfully shall shape themselves tokiss me. Listen, I loved you when I first saw you there in thedrawing-room at Isleworth, I loved you more and more all the time thatI was ill, and now I love you to madness. So you see, Angela, you_must_ marry me soon."
"_I_ marry you!"
"Oh! don't say you won't, for God's sake, don't say you won't," saidGeorge, with a sudden change of manner from the confident to thesupplicatory. "Look, I beg you not to, on my knees," and he actuallyflung himself down on the grass roadway and grovelled before her in anabandonment of passion hideous to behold.
She turned very pale, and answered him in a cold, quiet voice, everysyllable of which fell upon him like the stroke of a knife.
"Such a thing would be quite impossible for many reasons, but I needonly repeat you one that you are already aware of. I am engaged to Mr.Heigham."
"Bah, that is nothing. I know that; but you will not throw away such alove as I have to offer for the wavering affection of a boy. We cansoon get rid of him. Write and tell him that you have changed yourmind. Listen, Angela," he went on, catching her by the skirt of herdress; "he is not rich, he has only got enough for a bare living. Ihave five times the money, and you shall help to spend it. Don't marrya young beggar like that; you won't get value for yourself. It willpay you ever so much better to marry me."
George was convinced from his experience of the sex that every womancould be bought if only you bid high enough; but, as the sequelshowed, he could not well have used a worse argument to a person likeAngela, or one more likely to excite the indignation that fear of him,together with a certain respect for the evident genuineness of
hissuffering, had hitherto kept in suppression. She wrenched her dressfree from him, leaving a portion of its fabric in his hand.
"Are you not ashamed?" she said, her voice trembling with indignationand her eyes filled with angry tears; "are you not ashamed to talk tome like this, _you_, my own father's cousin, and yourself old enoughto be my father? I tell you that my love is already given, which wouldhave been a sufficient answer to any _gentleman_, and you reply bysaying that you are richer than the man I love. Do you believe that awoman thinks of nothing but money? or do you suppose that I am to bebought like a beast at the market? Get up from the ground, for, sinceyour brutality forces me to speak so plainly in my own defence, I musttell you once and for all that you will get nothing by kneeling to me.Listen: I would rather die than be your wife; rather than always seeyour face about me, I would pass my life in prison; I had sooner betouched by a snake than by you. You are quite hateful to me. Now youhave your answer, and I beg that you will get up and let me pass!"
Drawn up the full height of her majestic stature, her face flushedwith emotion, and her clear eyes flashing scornful fire, whilst in herhand she still held the bough of sweet honeysuckle; Angela formed astrange contrast to the miserable man crouched at her feet, swayinghimself to and fro and moaning, his hat off and his face hidden in histrembling hands.
As he would not, or could not move, she left him there, and slippingthrough a neighbouring gap vanished from sight. When she was fairlygone, he stirred, and having risen and recovered his hat, which hadfallen off in his excitement, his first action was to shake his fistin the direction in which she had vanished, his next to franticallykiss the fragment of her dress that he still held in her hand.
"You _shall_ marry me yet, my fine lady," he hissed between his teeth;"and, if I do not repay your gentle words with interest, my name isnot George Caresfoot;" and then, staggering like a drunken man, hemade his way home.
"Oh, Arthur," thought Angela, as she crept quite broken in spirit tothe solitude of her room, "if I only knew where you were, I think thatI would follow you, promise or no promise. There is no one to help me,no one; they are all in league against me--even my own father."