V.
The following morning Nerac and the neighbourhood around were agitatedby news of a tragedy more thrilling and terrible than that in whichthe hunchback and his companion in crime were concerned. In attendanceupon this tragedy, and preceding its discovery, was a circumstancestirring enough in its way in the usually quiet life of the simplevillagers, but which, in the light of the mysterious tragedy, wouldhave paled into insignificance had it not been that it appeared tohave a direct bearing upon it. Martin Hartog's daughter, Patricia, hadfled from her home, and was nowhere to be discovered.
This flight was made known to the villagers early in the morning bythe appearance among them of Martin Hartog, demanding in which househis daughter had taken refuge. The man was distracted; his wild wordsand actions excited great alarm, and when he found that he couldobtain no satisfaction from them, and that every man and woman inNerac professed ignorance of his daughter's movements, he called downheaven's vengeance upon the man who had betrayed her, and left them tosearch the woods for Patricia.
The words he had uttered in his imprecations when he called upon ahigher power for vengeance on a villain opened the villagers' eyes.Patricia had been betrayed. By whom? Who was the monster who hadworked this evil?
While they were talking excitedly together they saw Gabriel Carewhurrying to the house of Father Daniel. He was admitted, and in thecourse of a few minutes emerged from it in the company of the goodpriest, whose troubled face denoted that he had heard the sad news ofPatricia's flight from her father's home. The villagers held alooffrom Father Daniel and Gabriel Carew, seeing that they were in earnestconverse. Carew was imparting to the priest his suspicions of Eric andEmilius in connection with this event; he did not mention Lauretta'sname, but related how on several occasions he had been an accidentalwitness of meetings between Patricia and one or other of the brothers.
"It was not for me to place a construction upon these meetings," saidCarew, "nor did it appear to me that I was called upon to mention itto any one. It would have been natural for me to suppose that MartinHartog was fully acquainted with his daughter's movements, and that,being of an independent nature, he would have resented anyinterference from me. He is Patricia's father, and it was believed byall that he guarded her well. Had he been my equal I might haveincidentally asked whether there was anything serious between hisdaughter and these brothers, but I am his master, and therefore wasprecluded from inviting a confidence which can only exist between menoccupying the same social condition. There is, besides, another reasonfor my silence which, if you care to hear, I will impart to you."
"Nothing should be concealed from me," said Father Daniel.
"Although," said Gabriel Carew, "I have been a resident here now forsome time, I felt, and feel, that a larger knowledge of me isnecessary to give due and just weight to the unfavourable opinion Ihave formed of two men with whom you have been acquainted fromchildhood, and who hold a place in your heart of which they areutterly unworthy. Not alone in your heart, but in the hearts of mydearest friends, Doctor Louis and his family.
"You refer to Eric and Emilius," said the priest.
"Yes, I refer to them."
"What you have already said concerning them has deeply pained me. I donot share your suspicions. Their meetings with Hartog's daughter were,I am convinced, innocent. They are incapable of an act of baseness;they are of noble natures, and it is impossible that they should everhave harboured a thought of treachery to a young maiden."
"I am more than justified," said Gabriel Carew, "by the expression ofyour opinion, in the course I took. You would have listened withimpatience to me, and what I should have said would have recoiled onmyself. Yet now I regret that I did not interfere; this calamity mighthave been avoided, and a woman's honour saved. Let us seek MartinHartog; he may be in possession of information to guide us."
From the villagers they learnt that Hartog had gone to the woods, andthey were about to proceed in that direction when another, who hadjust arrived, informed them that he had seen Hartog going to GabrielCarew's house. Thither they proceeded, and found Hartog in hiscottage. He was on his knees, when they entered, before a box in whichhis daughter kept her clothes. This he had forced open, and wassearching. He looked wildly at Father Daniel and Carew, andimmediately resumed his task, throwing the girl's clothes upon thefloor after examining the pockets. In his haste and agitation he didnot observe a portrait which he had cast aside, Carew picked it up andhanded it to Father Daniel. It was the portrait of Emilius.
"Does this look like innocence?" inquired Carew. "Who is the morelikely to be right in our estimate of these brothers, you or I?"
Father Daniel, overwhelmed by the evidence, did not reply. By thistime Martin Hartog had found a letter which he was eagerly perusing.
"This is the villain," he cried. "If there is justice in heaven he hasmet with his deserts. If he still lives he shall die by my hands!"
"Hush, hush!" murmured Father Daniel. "Vengeance is not yours to dealout. Pray for comfort--pray for mercy."
"Pray for mercy!" cried Hartog with a bitter laugh. "I pray forvengeance! If the monster be not already smitten, Lord, give him intomy hands! I will tear him limb from limb! But who, who is he? Thecunning villain has not even signed his name!"
Father Daniel took the letter from his unresisting hand, and as hiseyes fell upon the writing he started and trembled.
"Emilius's?" asked Gabriel Carew.
"Alas!" sighed the priest.
It was indeed the writing of Emilius. Martin Hartog had heard Carew'sinquiry and the priest's reply.
"What!" he cried. "That viper!" And without another word he rushedfrom the cottage. Carew and the priest hastily followed him, but heoutstripped them, and was soon out of sight.
"There will be a deed of violence done," said Father Daniel, "if themen meet. I must go immediately to the house of these unhappy brothersand warn them."
Carew accompanied him, but when they arrived at the house they wereinformed that nothing had been seen of Eric and Emilius since theprevious night. Neither of them had been home nor slept in his bed.This seemed to complicate the mystery in Father Daniel's eyes,although it was no mystery to Carew, who was convinced that wherePatricia was there would Emilius be found. Father Daniel's grief andhorror were clearly depicted. He looked upon the inhabitants of Neracas one family, and he regarded the dishonour of Martin Hartog'sdaughter as dishonour to all. Carew, being anxious to see Lauretta,left him to his inquiries. Dr. Louis and his family were alreadyacquainted with the agitating news.
"Dark clouds hang over this once happy village," said Doctor Louis toCarew.
He was greatly shocked, but he had no hesitation in declaring that,although circumstances looked black against the twin brothers, hisfaith in them was undisturbed. Lauretta shared his belief, andLauretta's mother also. Gabriel Carew did not combat with them; heheld quietly to his views, convinced that in a short time they wouldthink as he did. Lauretta was very pale, and out of consideration forher Gabriel Carew endeavoured to avoid the all-engrossing subject.That, however, was impossible. Nothing else could be thought or spokenof. Again and again it was indirectly referred to. Once Carew remarkedto Lauretta, "You said that Eric and Emilius had a secret, and yougave me to understand that you were not ignorant of it. Has it anyconnection with what has occurred?"
"I must not answer you, Gabriel," she replied; "when we see Emiliusagain all will be explained."
Little did she suspect the awful import of those simple words. InCarew's mind the remembrance of the story of Kristel and Silvain wasvery vivid.
"Were Eric and Emilius true friends?" he asked.
Lauretta looked at him piteously; her lips quivered. "They arebrothers," she said.
"You trust me, Lauretta?" he said.
"Indeed I do," she replied. "Thoroughly."
"You love me, Lauretta?"
"With my whole heart, Gabriel."
She gazed at him in tender surprise; for weeks pas
t he had not been sohappy. The trouble by which he had been haunted took flight.
"And yet," he could not help saying, "you have a secret, and you keepit from me!"
His voice was almost gay; there was no touch of reproach in it.
"The secret is not mine, Gabriel," she said, and she allowed him topass his arm around her; her head sank upon his breast. "When you knowall, you will approve," she murmured. "As I trust you, so must youtrust me."
Their lips met; perfect confidence and faith were established betweenthem, although on Lauretta's side there had been no shadow on the loveshe gave him.
It was late in the afternoon when Carew was informed that FatherDaniel wished to speak to him privately. He kissed Lauretta and wentout to the priest, in whose face he saw a new horror.
"I should be the first to tell them," said Father Daniel in a huskyvoice, "but I am not yet strong enough. They will learn soon enoughwithout me. It is known only to a few."
"What is known?" asked Carew. "Is Emilius found?"
"No," replied the priest, "but Eric is. I would not have him removeduntil the magistrate, who is absent and has been sent for, arrives.Come with me."
In a state of wonder Carew accompanied Father Daniel out of DoctorLouis's house, and the priest led the way to the woods.
"Why in this direction?" inquired Gabriel Carew. "We have passed thehouse in which the brothers live."
"Wait," said Father Daniel solemnly. "They live there no longer."
The sun was setting, and the light was quivering on the tops of thedistant trees. Father Daniel and Gabriel Carew plunged into the woods.There were scouts on the outskirts, to whom the priest said, "Has themagistrate arrived?"
"No, father," was the answer, "we expect him every moment."
Father Daniel nodded and passed on.
"What does all this mean?" asked Gabriel Carew.
And again the priest replied, "Wait."
From that moment until they arrived at the spot to which Father Danielled him, Carew was silent. What had passed between him and Laurettahad so filled his soul with happiness that he bestowed but littlethought upon a vulgar intrigue between a peasant girl and men whom hehad long since condemned. They no longer troubled him; they had passedfor ever out of his life, and his heart was at rest. Father Daniel andhe walked some distance into the shadows of the forest and the night.Before him he saw lights in the hands of two villagers who hadevidently been stationed there to keep guard.
"Father Daniel?" they cried in fearsome voices.
"Yes," he replied, "it is I."
He conducted Gabriel Carew to a spot, and pointed downwards with hisfinger; and there, prone and still upon the fallen leaves, lay thebody of Eric stone dead, stabbed to the heart!
"Martin Hartog," said the priest, "is in custody on suspicion of thisruthless murder."
"Why?" asked Gabriel Carew. "What evidence is there to incriminatehim?"
"When the body was first discovered," said the priest, "your gardenerwas standing by its side. Upon being questioned his answer was, 'Ifjudgment has not fallen upon the monster, it has overtaken hisbrother. The brood should be wiped off the face of the earth.' Hespoke no further word."
VI.
Gabriel Carew was overwhelmed by the horror of this discovery. Themeeting between the brothers, of which he had been a secret witness onthe previous evening, and during which Eric had laid violent hands onEmilius, recurred to him. He had not spoken of it, nor did he mentionit now. There was time enough. If Martin Hartog confessed his guiltthe matter was settled; if he did not, the criminal must be soughtelsewhere, and it would be his duty to supply evidence which wouldtend to fix the crime upon Emilius. He did not believe Martin Hartogto be guilty; he had already decided within himself that Emilius hadmurdered Eric, and that the tragedy of Kristel and Silvain had beenrepeated in the lives of Silvain's sons. There was a kind ofretribution in this which struck Gabriel Carew with singular force."Useless," he thought, "to fly from a fate which is preordained. Whenhe recovered from the horror which had fallen on him upon beholdingthe body of Eric, he asked Father Daniel at what hour of the day theunhappy man had been killed.
"That," said Father Daniel, "has yet to be determined. No doctor hasseen the body, but the presumption is that when Martin Hartog,animated by his burning craving for vengeance, of which we were both awitness, rushed from his cottage, he made his way to the woods, andthat he here unhappily met the brother of the man whom he believed tobe the betrayer of his daughter. What followed may be easilyimagined."
The arrival of the magistrate put a stop to the conversation. Helistened to what Father Daniel had to relate, and some portions of thepriest's explanations were corroborated by Gabriel Carew. Themagistrate then gave directions that the body of Eric should beconveyed to the courthouse; and he and the priest and Carew walkedback to the village together.
"The village will become notorious," he remarked. "Is there anepidemic of murder amongst us that this one should follow so closelyupon the heels of the other?" Then, after a pause, he asked FatherDaniel whether he believed Martin Hartog to be guilty.
"I believe no man to be guilty," said the priest, "until he is provedso incontrovertibly. Human justice frequently errs."
"I bear in remembrance," said the magistrate, "that you would notsubscribe to the general belief in the hunchback's guilt."
"Nor do I now," said Father Daniel.
"And you," said the magistrate, turning to Gabriel Carew, "do youbelieve Hartog to be guilty?"
"I do not," replied Carew.
"Do your suspicions point elsewhere?" asked the magistrate.
"This is not the time or place," said Carew, "for me to giveexpression to any suspicion I may entertain. The first thing to besettled is Hartog's complicity in this murder."
"True," said the magistrate.
"Father Daniel believes," continued Carew, "that Eric was murderedto-day, within the last hour or two. That is not my belief."
"The doctors will decide that," said the magistrate. "If the deed wasnot, in your opinion, perpetrated within the last few hours, when doyou suppose it was done?"
"Last night," Carew replied.
"Have you any distinct grounds for the belief?"
"None. You have asked me a question which I have answered. There is nomatter of absolute knowledge involved in it; if there were I should beable to speak more definitely. Until the doctors pronounce there isnothing more to be said. But I may say this: if Hartog is proved to beinnocent, I may have something to reveal in the interests of justice."
The magistrate nodded and said, "By the way, where is Emilius, andwhat has he to say about it?"
"Neither Eric nor Emilius," replied Father Daniel, "slept at home lastnight, and since yesterday evening Emilius has not been seen."
The magistrate looked grave. "Is it known where he is? He should beinstantly summoned."
"Nothing is known of him," said Father Daniel. "Inquiries have beenmade, but nothing satisfactory has been elicited."
The magistrate glanced at Carew, and for a little while was silent.Shortly after they reached the court-house the doctors presented theirreport. In their opinion Eric had been dead at least fourteen orfifteen hours, certainly for longer than twelve. This disposed of thetheory that he had been killed in the afternoon. Their belief was thatthe crime was committed shortly after midnight. In that case MartinHartog must be incontestably innocent. He was able to account forevery hour of the previous day and night. He was out until nearmidnight; he was accompanied home, and a friend sat up with him tilllate, both keeping very quiet for fear of disturbing Patricia, who wassupposed to be asleep in her room, but who before that time had mostlikely fled from her home. Moreover, it was proved that Martin Hartogrose in the morning at a certain time, and that it was only then thathe became acquainted with the disappearance of his daughter. FatherDaniel and Gabriel Carew were present when the magistrate questionedHartog. The man seemed indifferent as to his fate, but he answe
redquite clearly the questions put to him. He had not left his cottageafter going to bed on the previous night; he believed his daughter tobe in her room, and only this morning discovered his mistake. Afterhis interview with Father Daniel and Gabriel Carew he rushed from thecottage in the hope of meeting with Emilius, whom he intended to kill;he came upon the dead body of Eric in the woods, and his only regretwas that it was Eric and not Emilius.
"If the villain who has dishonoured me were here at this moment," saidMartin Hartog, "I would strangle him. No power should save him from myjust revenge!"
The magistrate ordered him to be set at liberty, and he wandered outof the court-house a hopeless and despairing man. Then the magistrateturned to Carew, and asked him, now that Hartog was proved to beinnocent, what he had to reveal that might throw light upon the crime.Carew, after some hesitation, related what he had seen the nightbefore when Emilius and Eric were together in the forest.
"But," said the magistrate, "the brothers were known to be on the mostloving terms."
"So," said Carew, "were their father, Silvain, and his brother Kristeluntil a woman stepped between them. Upon this matter, however, it isnot for me to speak. Perhaps Doctor Louis can enlighten you."
"I have heard something of the story of these hapless brothers," saidthe magistrate, pondering, "but am not acquainted with all theparticulars. I will send for Doctor Louis."
Carew then asked that he should be allowed to go for Doctor Louis, hisobject being to explain to the doctor, on their way to the magistrate,how it was that reference had been made to the story of Silvain andKristel which he had heard from the doctor's lips. He also desired tohint to Doctor Louis that Lauretta might be in possession ofinformation respecting Eric and Emilius which might be useful inclearing up the mystery.
"You have acted right," said Doctor Louis sadly to Gabriel Carew; "atall risks justice must be done. Ah! how the past comes back to me! Andis this to be the end of that fated family? I cannot believe thatEmilius can be guilty of a crime so horrible!"
His distress was so keen that Carew himself, now that he was freedfrom the jealousy by which he had been tortured with respect toLauretta, hoped also that Emilius would be able to clear himself ofthe charge hanging over him. But when they arrived at the magistrate'scourt they were confronted by additional evidence which seemed to tellheavily against the absent brother. A witness had come forward whodeposed that, being out on the previous night very late, and taking ashort cut through the woods to his cottage, he heard voices of two menwhich he recognised as the voices of Emilius and Eric. They wereraised in anger, and one--the witness could not say which--cried out,
"Well, kill me, for I do not wish to live!"
Upon being asked why he did not interpose, his answer was that he didnot care to mix himself up with a desperate quarrel; and that as hehad a family he thought the best thing he could do was to hasten homeas quickly as possible. Having told all he knew he was dismissed, andbade to hold himself in readiness to repeat his evidence on a futureoccasion.
Then the magistrate heard what Doctor Louis had to say, and summed upthe whole matter thus:
"The reasonable presumption is, that the brothers quarrelled over somelove affair with a person at present unknown; for although MartinHartog's daughter has disappeared, there is nothing as yet to connecther directly with the affair. Whether premeditatedly, or in a fit ofungovernable passion, Emilius killed his brother and fled. If he doesnot present himself to-morrow morning in the village he must be soughtfor. Nothing more can be done to-night."
It was a melancholy night for all, to Carew in a lesser degree than tothe others, for the crime which had thrown gloom over the wholevillage had brought ease to his heart. He saw now how unreasonable hadbeen his jealousy of the brothers, and he was disposed to judge themmore leniently.
On that night Doctor Louis held a private conference with Lauretta,and received from her an account of the unhappy difference between thebrothers. As Silvain and Kristel had both loved one woman, so had Ericand Emilius, but in the case of the sons there had been no supplantingof the affections. Emilius and Patricia had long loved each other, andhad kept their love a secret, Eric himself not knowing it. WhenEmilius discovered that his brother loved Patricia his distress ofmind was very great, and it was increased by the knowledge that wasforced upon him that there was in Eric's passion for the girlsomething of the fierce quality which had distinguished Kristel'spassion for Avicia. In his distress he had sought advice fromLauretta, and she had undertaken to act as an intermediary, and toendeavour to bring Eric to reason. On two or three occasions shethought she had succeeded, but her influence over Eric lasted only aslong as he was in her presence. He made promises which he found itimpossible to keep, and he continued to hope against hope. Laurettadid not know what had passed between the brothers on the previousevening, in the interview of which I was a witness, but earlier in theday she had seen Emilius, who had confided a secret to her keepingwhich placed Eric's love for Patricia beyond the pale of hope. He wassecretly married to Patricia, and had been so for some time. WhenGabriel Carew heard this he recognised how unjust he had been towardsEmilius and Patricia in the construction he had placed upon theirsecret interviews. Lauretta advised Emilius to make known his marriageto Eric, and offered to reveal the fact to the despairing lover, butEmilius would not consent to this being immediately done. Hestipulated that a week should pass before the revelation was made;then, he said, it might be as well that all the world should knowit--a fatal stipulation, against which Lauretta argued in vain. Thusit was that in the last interview between Eric and Lauretta, Eric wasstill in ignorance of the insurmountable bar to his hopes. As itsubsequently transpired, Emilius had made preparations to removePatricia from Nerac that very night. Up to that point, and at thattime nothing more was known; but when Emilius was tried for the murderLauretta's evidence did not help to clear him, because it establishedbeyond doubt the fact of the existence of an animosity between thebrothers.
On the day following the discovery of the murder, Emilius did not makehis appearance in the village, and officers were sent in search ofhim. There was no clue as to the direction which he and Patricia hadtaken, and the officers, being slow-witted, were many days before theysucceeded in finding him. Their statement, upon their return to Neracwith their prisoner, was, that upon informing him of the chargeagainst him, he became violently agitated and endeavoured to escape.He denied that he made such an attempt, asserting that he wasnaturally agitated by the awful news, and that for a few minutes hescarcely knew what he was doing, but, being innocent, there was noreason why he should make a fruitless endeavour to avoid an inevitableinquiry into the circumstances of a most dreadful crime.
He was much broken down by his position. No brother, he declared, hadever been more fondly loved than Eric was by him, and he would havesuffered a voluntary death rather than be guilty of an act of violencetowards one for whom he entertained so profound an affection. In thepreliminary investigations he gave the following explanation of allwithin his knowledge. What Lauretta had stated was true in everyparticular; neither did he deny Carew's evidence nor the evidence ofthe villager who had deposed that, late on the night of the murder,high words had passed between him and Eric.
"The words," said Emilius, "'Well, kill me, for I do not wish tolive!' were uttered by my poor brother when I told him that Patriciawas my wife. For although I had not intended that this should be knownuntil a few days after my departure, my poor brother was so worked upby his love for my wife, that I felt I dared not, in justice to himand myself, leave him any longer in ignorance. For that reason, andthus impelled, pitying him most deeply, I revealed to him the truth.Had the witness whose evidence, true as it is, seems to bear fatallyagainst me, waited and listened, he would have been able to testify inmy favour. My poor brother for a time was overwhelmed by therevelation. His love for my wife perhaps did not die immediately away;but, high-minded and honourable as he was, he recognised that topersevere in it would be a guilty act. The force o
f his passion becameless; he was no longer violent--he was mournful. He even, in adespairing way, begged my forgiveness, and I, reproachful that I hadnot earlier confided in him, begged _his_ forgiveness for theunconscious wrong I had done him. Then, after a while, we fellinto our old ways of love; tender words were exchanged; we claspedeach other's hand; we embraced. Truly you who hear me can scarcelyrealise what Eric and I had always been to each other. More thanbrothers--more like lovers. Heartbroken as he was at the convictionthat the woman he adored was lost to him, I was scarcely lessheartbroken that I had won her. And so, after an hour's lovingconverse, I left him; and when we parted, with a promise to meet againwhen his wound was healed, we kissed each other as we had done in thedays of our childhood."
END OF VOL. II.
RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, LONDON AND BUNGAY.
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