CHAPTER XII.
Such was Welbeck's tale, listened to by me with an eagerness in whichevery faculty was absorbed. How adverse to my dreams were the incidentsthat had just been related! The curtain was lifted, and a scene of guiltand ignominy disclosed where my rash and inexperienced youth hadsuspected nothing but loftiness and magnanimity.
For a while the wondrousness of this tale kept me from contemplating theconsequences that awaited us. My unfledged fancy had not hitherto soaredto this pitch. All was astounding by its novelty, or terrific by itshorror. The very scene of these offences partook, to my rusticapprehension, of fairy splendour and magical abruptness. Myunderstanding was bemazed, and my senses were taught to distrust theirown testimony.
From this musing state I was recalled by my companion, who said to me,in solemn accents, "Mervyn! I have but two requests to make. Assist meto bury these remains, and then accompany me across the river. I have nopower to compel your silence on the acts that you have witnessed. I havemeditated to benefit as well as to injure you; but I do not desire thatyour demeanour should conform to any other standard than justice. Youhave promised, and to that promise I trust.
"If you choose to fly from this scene, to withdraw yourself from whatyou may conceive to be a theatre of guilt or peril, the avenues areopen; retire unmolested and in silence. If you have a manlike spirit, ifyou are grateful for the benefits bestowed upon you, if your discernmentenables you to see that compliance with my request will entangle you inno guilt and betray you into no danger, stay, and aid me in hiding theseremains from human scrutiny.
"Watson is beyond the reach of further injury. I never intended himharm, though I have torn from him his sister and friend, and havebrought his life to an untimely close. To provide him a grave is a dutythat I owe to the dead and to the living. I shall quickly place myselfbeyond the reach of inquisitors and judges, but would willingly rescuefrom molestation or suspicion those whom I shall leave behind."
What would have been the fruit of deliberation, if I had had the time orpower to deliberate, I know not. My thoughts flowed with tumult andrapidity. To shut this spectacle from my view was the first impulse; butto desert this man, in a time of so much need, appeared a thankless anddastardly deportment. To remain where I was, to conform implicitly tohis direction, required no effort. Some fear was connected with hispresence, and with that of the dead; but, in the tremulous confusion ofmy present thoughts, solitude would conjure up a thousand phantoms.
I made no preparation to depart. I did not verbally assent to hisproposal. He interpreted my silence into acquiescence. He wrapped thebody in the carpet, and then, lifting one end, cast at me a look whichindicated his expectations that I would aid him in lifting this ghastlyburden. During this process, the silence was unbroken.
I knew not whither he intended to convey the corpse. He had talked ofburial, but no receptacle had been provided. How far safety might dependupon his conduct in this particular, I was unable to estimate. I was intoo heartless a mood to utter my doubts. I followed his example inraising the corpse from the floor.
He led the way into the passage and down-stairs. Having reached thefirst floor, he unbolted a door which led into the cellar. The stairsand passage were illuminated by lamps that hung from the ceiling andwere accustomed to burn during the night. Now, however, we were enteringdarksome and murky recesses.
"Return," said he, in a tone of command, "and fetch the light. I willwait for you."
I obeyed. As I returned with the light, a suspicion stole into my mind,that Welbeck had taken this opportunity to fly; and that, on regainingthe foot of the stairs, I should find the spot deserted by all but thedead. My blood was chilled by this image. The momentary resolution itinspired was to follow the example of the fugitive, and leave thepersons whom the ensuing day might convene on this spot, to form theirown conjectures as to the cause of this catastrophe.
Meanwhile, I cast anxious eyes forward. Welbeck was discovered in thesame place and posture in which he had been left. Lifting the corpse andits shroud in his arms, he directed me to follow him. The vaults beneathwere lofty and spacious. He passed from one to the other till we reacheda small and remote cell. Here he cast his burden on the ground. In thefall, the face of Watson chanced to be disengaged from its covering. Itsclosed eyes and sunken muscles were rendered in a tenfold degree ghastlyand rueful by the feeble light which the candle shed upon it.
This object did not escape the attention of Welbeck. He leaned againstthe wall, and, folding his arms, resigned himself to reverie. He gazedupon the countenance of Watson, but his looks denoted his attention tobe elsewhere employed.
As to me, my state will not be easily described. My eye roved fearfullyfrom one object to another. By turns it was fixed upon the murderedperson and the murderer. The narrow cell in which we stood, itsrudely-fashioned walls and arches, destitute of communication with theexternal air, and its palpable dark scarcely penetrated by the rays of asolitary candle, added to the silence which was deep and universal,produced an impression on my fancy which no time will obliterate.
Perhaps my imagination was distempered by terror. The incident which Iam going to relate may appear to have existed only in my fancy. Be thatas it may, I experienced all the effects which the fullest belief isadapted to produce. Glancing vaguely at the countenance of Watson, myattention was arrested by a convulsive motion in the eyelids. Thismotion increased, till at length the eyes opened, and a glance, languidbut wild, was thrown around. Instantly they closed, and the tremulousappearance vanished.
I started from my place and was on the point of uttering someinvoluntary exclamation. At the same moment, Welbeck seemed to recoverfrom his reverie.
"How is this?" said he. "Why do we linger here? Every moment isprecious. We cannot dig for him a grave with our hands. Wait here, whileI go in search of a spade."
Saying this, he snatched the candle from my hand, and hasted away. Myeye followed the light as its gleams shifted their place upon the wallsand ceilings, and, gradually vanishing, gave place to unrespited gloom.This proceeding was so unexpected and abrupt, that I had no time toremonstrate against it. Before I retrieved the power of reflection, thelight had disappeared and the footsteps were no longer to be heard.
I was not, on ordinary occasions, destitute of equanimity; but perhapsthe imagination of man is naturally abhorrent of death, until tutoredinto indifference by habit. Every circumstance combined to fill me withshuddering and panic. For a while, I was enabled to endure my situationby the exertions of my reason. That the lifeless remains of a humanbeing are powerless to injure or benefit, I was thoroughly persuaded. Isummoned this belief to my aid, and was able, if not to subdue, yet tocurb, my fears. I listened to catch the sound of the returning footstepsof Welbeck, and hoped that every new moment would terminate my solitude.
No signal of his coming was afforded. At length it occurred to me thatWelbeck had gone with no intention to return; that his malice hadseduced me hither to encounter the consequences of his deed. He had fledand barred every door behind him. This suspicion may well be supposed tooverpower my courage, and to call forth desperate efforts for mydeliverance.
I extended my hands and went forward. I had been too little attentive tothe situation and direction of these vaults and passages, to go forwardwith undeviating accuracy. My fears likewise tended to confuse myperceptions and bewilder my steps. Notwithstanding the danger ofencountering obstructions, I rushed towards the entrance withprecipitation.
My temerity was quickly punished. In a moment, I was repelled by ajutting angle of the wall, with such force that I staggered backward andfell. The blow was stunning, and, when I recovered my senses, Iperceived that a torrent of blood was gushing from my nostrils. Myclothes were moistened with this unwelcome effusion, and I could not butreflect on the hazard which I should incur by being detected in thisrecess, covered by these accusing stains.
This reflection once more set me on my feet and incited my exertions. Inow proceeded with greater wariness and c
aution. I had lost all distinctnotions of my way. My motions were at random. All my labour was to shunobstructions and to advance whenever the vacuity would permit. By thismeans, the entrance was at length found, and, after various efforts, Iarrived, beyond my hopes, at the foot of the staircase.
I ascended, but quickly encountered an insuperable impediment. The doorat the stair-head was closed and barred. My utmost strength was exertedin vain, to break the lock or the hinges. Thus were my direstapprehensions fulfilled. Welbeck had left me to sustain the charge ofmurder; to obviate suspicions the most atrocious and plausible that thecourse of human events is capable of producing.
Here I must remain till the morrow; till some one can be made tooverhear my calls and come to my deliverance. What effects will myappearance produce on the spectator? Terrified by phantoms and stainedwith blood, shall I not exhibit the tokens of a maniac as well as anassassin?
The corpse of Watson will quickly be discovered. If, previous to thisdisclosure, I should change my blood-stained garments and withdraw intothe country, shall I not be pursued by the most vehement suspicions,and, perhaps, hunted to my obscurest retreat by the ministers ofjustice? I am innocent; but my tale, however circumstantial or true,will scarcely suffice for my vindication. My flight will be construedinto a proof of incontestable guilt.
While harassed by these thoughts, my attention was attracted by a faintgleam cast upon the bottom of the staircase. It grew stronger, hoveredfor a moment in my sight, and then disappeared. That it proceeded from alamp or candle, borne by some one along the passages, was no untenableopinion, but was far less probable than that the effulgence wasmeteorous. I confided in the latter supposition, and fortified myselfanew against the dread of preternatural dangers. My thoughts reverted tothe contemplation of the hazards and suspicions which flowed from mycontinuance in this spot.
In the midst of my perturbed musing, my attention was again recalled byan illumination like the former. Instead of hovering and vanishing, itwas permanent. No ray could be more feeble; but the tangible obscurityto which it succeeded rendered it conspicuous as an electrical flash.For a while I eyed it without moving from my place, and in momentaryexpectation of its disappearance.
Remarking its stability, the propriety of scrutinizing it more nearly,and of ascertaining the source whence it flowed, was at lengthsuggested. Hope, as well as curiosity, was the parent of my conduct.Though utterly at a loss to assign the cause of this appearance, I waswilling to believe some connection between that cause and the means ofmy deliverance.
I had scarcely formed the resolution of descending the stair, when myhope was extinguished by the recollection that the cellar had narrow andgrated windows, through which light from the street might possibly havefound access. A second recollection supplanted this belief, for in myway to this staircase my attention would have been solicited, and mysteps, in some degree, been guided, by light coming through theseavenues.
Having returned to the bottom of the stair, I perceived every part ofthe long-drawn passage illuminated. I threw a glance forward to thequarter whence the rays seemed to proceed, and beheld, at a considerabledistance, Welbeck in the cell which I had left, turning up the earthwith a spade.
After a pause of astonishment, the nature of the error which I hadcommitted rushed upon my apprehension. I now perceived that the darknesshad misled me to a different staircase from that which I had originallydescended. It was apparent that Welbeck intended me no evil, but hadreally gone in search of the instrument which he had mentioned.
This discovery overwhelmed me with contrition and shame, though it freedme from the terrors of imprisonment and accusation. To return to thecell which I had left, and where Welbeck was employed in his disastrousoffice, was the expedient which regard to my own safety unavoidablysuggested.
Welbeck paused, at my approach, and betrayed a momentary consternationat the sight of my ensanguined visage. The blood, by some inexplicableprocess of nature, perhaps by the counteracting influence of fear, hadquickly ceased to flow. Whether the cause of my evasion, and of my fluxof blood, was guessed, or whether his attention was withdrawn, by moremomentous objects, from my condition, he proceeded in his task insilence.
A shallow bed and a slight covering of clay were provided for thehapless Watson. Welbeck's movements were hurried and tremulous. Hiscountenance betokened a mind engrossed by a single purpose, in somedegree foreign to the scene before him. An intensity and fixedness offeatures were conspicuous, that led me to suspect the subversion of hisreason.
Having finished the task, he threw aside his implement. He then put intomy hand a pocket-book, saying it belonged to Watson, and might containsomething serviceable to the living. I might make what use of it Ithought proper. He then remounted the stairs, and, placing the candle ona table in the hall, opened the principal door and went forth. I wasdriven, by a sort of mechanical impulse, in his footsteps. I followedhim because it was agreeable to him and because I knew not whither elseto direct my steps.
The streets were desolate and silent. The watchman's call, remotely andfaintly heard, added to the general solemnity. I followed my companionin a state of mind not easily described. I had no spirit even to inquirewhither he was going. It was not till we arrived at the water's edgethat I persuaded myself to break silence. I then began to reflect on thedegree in which his present schemes might endanger Welbeck or myself. Ihad acted long enough a servile and mechanical part; and been guided byblind and foreign impulses. It was time to lay aside my fetters, anddemand to know whither the path tended in which I was importuned towalk.
Meanwhile I found myself entangled among boats and shipping. I am unableto describe the spot by any indisputable tokens. I know merely that itwas the termination of one of the principal streets. Here Welbeckselected a boat and prepared to enter it. For a moment I hesitated tocomply with his apparent invitation. I stammered out aninterrogation:--"Why is this? Why should we cross the river? Whatservice can I do for you? I ought to know the purpose of my voyagebefore I enter it."
He checked himself and surveyed me for a minute in silence. "What do youfear?" said he. "Have I not explained my wishes? Merely cross the riverwith me, for I cannot navigate a boat by myself. Is there any thingarduous or mysterious in this undertaking? we part on the Jersey shore,and I shall leave you to your destiny. All I shall ask from you will besilence, and to hide from mankind what you know concerning me."
He now entered the boat and urged me to follow his example. Ireluctantly complied, I perceived that the boat contained but one oar,and that was a small one. He seemed startled and thrown into greatperplexity by this discovery. "It will be impossible," said he, in atone of panic and vexation, "to procure another at this hour: what is tobe done?"
This impediment was by no means insuperable. I had sinewy arms, and knewwell how to use an oar for the double purpose of oar and rudder. I tookmy station at the stern, and quickly extricated the boat from itsneighbours and from the wharves. I was wholly unacquainted with theriver. The bar by which it was encumbered I knew to exist, but in whatdirection and to what extent it existed, and how it might be avoided inthe present state of the tide, I knew not. It was probable, therefore,unknowing as I was of the proper track, that our boat would speedilyhave grounded.
My attention, meanwhile, was fixed upon the oar. My companion sat at theprow, and was in a considerable degree unnoticed. I cast my eyesoccasionally at the scene which I had left. Its novelty, joined with theincidents of my condition, threw me into a state of suspense and wonderwhich frequently slackened my hand and left the vessel to be driven bythe downward current. Lights were sparingly seen, and these wereperpetually fluctuating, as masts, yards, and hulls were interposed, andpassed before them. In proportion as we receded from the shore, theclamours seemed to multiply, and the suggestion that the city wasinvolved in confusion and uproar did not easily give way to maturerthoughts. _Twelve_ was the hour cried, and this ascended at once fromall quarters, and was mingled with the baying of dogs, so as to producetrepidatio
n and alarm.
From this state of magnificent and awful feeling I was suddenly calledby the conduct of Welbeck. We had scarcely moved two hundred yards fromthe shore, when he plunged into the water. The first conception was thatsome implement or part of the boat had fallen over-board. I looked backand perceived that his seat was vacant. In my first astonishment Iloosened my hold of the oar, and it floated away. The surface was smoothas glass, and the eddy occasioned by his sinking was scarcely visible. Ihad not time to determine whether this was designed or accidental. Itssuddenness deprived me of the power to exert myself for his succour. Iwildly gazed around me, in hopes of seeing him rise. After some time myattention was drawn, by the sound of agitation in the water, to aconsiderable distance.
It was too dark for any thing to be distinctly seen. There was no cryfor help. The noise was like that of one vigorously struggling for amoment, and then sinking to the bottom. I listened with painfuleagerness, but was unable to distinguish a third signal. He sunk to riseno more.
I was for a time inattentive to my own situation. The dreadfulness andunexpectedness of this catastrophe occupied me wholly. The quick motionof the lights upon the shore showed me that I was borne rapidly alongwith the tide. How to help myself, how to impede my course or to regaineither shore, since I had lost the oar, I was unable to tell. I was noless at a loss to conjecture whither the current, if suffered to controlmy vehicle, would finally transport me.
The disappearance of lights and buildings, and the diminution of thenoises, acquainted me that I had passed the town. It was impossiblelonger to hesitate. The shore was to be regained by one way only, whichwas swimming. To any exploit of this kind, my strength and my skill wereadequate. I threw away my loose gown; put the pocket-book of theunfortunate Watson in my mouth, to preserve it from being injured bymoisture; and committed myself to the stream.
I landed in a spot incommoded with mud and reeds. I sunk knee-deep intothe former, and was exhausted by the fatigue of extricating myself. Atlength I recovered firm ground, and threw myself on the turf to repairmy wasted strength, and to reflect on the measures which my futurewelfare enjoined me to pursue.
What condition was ever parallel to mine? The transactions of the lastthree days resembled the monstrous creations of delirium. They werepainted with vivid hues on my memory; but so rapid and incongruous werethese transitions, that I almost denied belief to their reality. Theyexercised a bewildering and stupefying influence on my mind, from whichthe meditations of an hour were scarcely sufficient to relieve me.Gradually I recovered the power of arranging my ideas and formingconclusions.
Welbeck was dead. His property was swallowed up, and his creditors leftto wonder at his disappearance. All that was left was the furniture ofhis house, to which Mrs. Wentworth would lay claim, in discharge of theunpaid rent. What now was the destiny that awaited the lost andfriendless Mademoiselle Lodi? Where was she concealed? Welbeck haddropped no intimation by which I might be led to suspect the place ofher abode. If my power, in other respects, could have contributed aughtto her relief, my ignorance of her asylum had utterly disabled me.
But what of the murdered person? He had suddenly vanished from the faceof the earth. His fate and the place of his interment would probably besuspected and ascertained. Was I sure to escape from the consequences ofthis deed? Watson had relatives and friends. What influence on theirstate and happiness his untimely and mysterious fate would possess, itwas obvious to inquire. This idea led me to the recollection of hispocket-book. Some papers might be there explanatory of his situation.
I resumed my feet. I knew not where to direct my steps. I was droppingwith wet, and shivering with the cold. I was destitute of habitation andfriend. I had neither money nor any valuable thing in my possession. Imoved forward mechanically and at random. Where I landed was at no greatdistance from the verge of the town. In a short time I discovered theglimmering of a distant lamp. To this I directed my steps, and here Ipaused to examine the contents of the pocket-book.
I found three bank-notes, each of fifty dollars, enclosed in a piece ofblank paper. Besides these were three letters, apparently written by hiswife, and dated at Baltimore. They were brief, but composed in a strainof great tenderness, and containing affecting allusions to their child.I could gather, from their date and tenor, that they were receivedduring his absence on his recent voyage; that her condition wasconsiderably necessitous, and surrounded by wants which their prolongedseparation had increased.
The fourth letter was open, and seemed to have been very lately written.It was directed to Mrs. Mary Watson. He informed her in it of hisarrival at Philadelphia from St. Domingo; of the loss of his ship andcargo; and of his intention to hasten home with all possible expedition.He told her that all was lost but one hundred and fifty dollars, thegreater part of which he should bring with him, to relieve her morepressing wants. The letter was signed, and folded, and superscribed, butunsealed.
A little consideration showed me in what manner it became me, on thisoccasion, to demean myself. I put the bank-notes in the letter, andsealed it with a wafer; a few of which were found in the pocket-book. Ihesitated some time whether I should add any thing to the informationwhich the letter contained, by means of a pencil which offered itself tomy view; but I concluded to forbear. I could select no suitable terms inwhich to communicate the mournful truth. I resolved to deposit thisletter at the post-office, where I knew letters could be left at allhours.
My reflections at length reverted to my own condition. What was the fatereserved for me? How far my safety might be affected by remaining in thecity, in consequence of the disappearance of Welbeck, and my knownconnection with the fugitive, it was impossible to foresee. My fearsreadily suggested innumerable embarrassments and inconveniences whichwould flow from this source. Besides, on what pretence should I remain?To whom could I apply for protection or employment? All avenues, even tosubsistence, were shut against me. The country was my sole asylum. Here,in exchange for my labour, I could at least purchase food, safety, andrepose. But, if my choice pointed to the country, there was no reasonfor a moment's delay. It would be prudent to regain the fields, and befar from this detested city before the rising of the sun.
Meanwhile I was chilled and chafed by the clothes that I wore. To changethem for others was absolutely necessary to my ease. The clothes which Iwore were not my own, and were extremely unsuitable to my new condition.My rustic and homely garb was deposited in my chamber at Welbeck's.These thoughts suggested the design of returning thither. I consideredthat, probably, the servants had not been alarmed. That the door wasunfastened, and the house was accessible. It would be easy to enter andretire without notice; and this, not without some waverings andmisgivings, I presently determined to do.
Having deposited my letter at the office, I proceeded to my late abode.I approached, and lifted the latch with caution. There were noappearances of any one having been disturbed. I procured a light in thekitchen, and hied softly and with dubious footsteps to my chamber. ThereI disrobed, and resumed my check shirt, and trowsers, and fustian coat.This change being accomplished, nothing remained but that I shouldstrike into the country with the utmost expedition.
In a momentary review which I took of the past, the design for whichWelbeck professed to have originally detained me in his service occurredto my mind. I knew the danger of reasoning loosely on the subject ofproperty. To any trinket or piece of furniture in this house I did notallow myself to question the right of Mrs. Wentworth; a right accruingto her in consequence of Welbeck's failure in the payment of his rent;but there was one thing which I felt an irresistible desire, and noscruples which should forbid me, to possess, and that was, themanuscript to which Welbeck had alluded, as having been written by thedeceased Lodi.
I was well instructed in Latin, and knew the Tuscan language to benearly akin to it. I despaired not of being at some time able tocultivate this language, and believed that the possession of thismanuscript might essentially contribute to this end, as well as to manyothe
rs equally beneficial. It was easy to conjecture that the volume wasto be found among his printed books, and it was scarcely less easy toascertain the truth of this conjecture. I entered, not without tremuloussensations, into the apartment which had been the scene of thedisastrous interview between Watson and Welbeck. At every step I almostdreaded to behold the spectre of the former rise before me.
Numerous and splendid volumes were arranged on mahogany shelves, andscreened by doors of glass. I ran swiftly over their names, and was atlength so fortunate as to light upon the book of which I was in search.I immediately secured it, and, leaving the candle extinguished on atable in the parlour, I once more issued forth into the street. Withlight steps and palpitating heart I turned my face towards the country.My necessitous condition I believed would justify me in passing withoutpayment the Schuylkill bridge, and the eastern sky began to brightenwith the dawn of morning not till I had gained the distance of ninemiles from the city.
Such is the tale which I proposed to relate to you. Such are thememorable incidents of five days of my life; from which I have gatheredmore instruction than from the whole tissue of my previous existence.Such are the particulars of my knowledge respecting the crimes andmisfortunes of Welbeck; which the insinuations of Wortley, and my desireto retain your good opinion, have induced me to unfold.