CHAPTER XX.
A map is a very useful thing: I wonder what people did without itbefore it was invented. Yet there were great travellers in those days,too, both by land and water. Adam began the first, and Noah thesecond, and they managed very well without either chart or compass, sothat it is evident those instruments are nothing but luxuries, andought to be done away with. Nevertheless, I feel that I should be muchbetter off, and so would the reader too, if I could give here, on thispage, a map of the county of ----, just to show him the relativeposition of the place called Buxton's Inn and the little village ofColdington-cum-Snowblast, which lay nearly north-west of Buxton's Inn,and at the distance, by the road, of about six miles. The innkeeperscharge seven miles' posting, because it was the seventeenth part of afurlong beyond the six miles. However, a dreary little village it was,situated on one of the two roads to London, which was indeed somewhatshorter than the other, but so hilly, so tiresome, so bleak, and sostiff, as the post-boys termed it, that man and beast alike preferredthe other road, and generally went to and from Tarningham by Buxton'sInn. Nevertheless, it was absolutely necessary that a pair or two ofposters should be kept at Coldington, as that was the only direct roadto several considerable towns; and though it was only an eight-milestage, yet the cattle, when they had got over the hills, had noinclination to go further. The post-horses had engendered apublic-house, which was designated by courtesy an inn, but it was avery solitary one, with very few visitors but those who took a glassof beer or spirits at the bar, and a chance mercantile traveller, whocame to supply the two shops that ornamented the village, and sleptthere for the night.
At a very early hour of the morning, however, on the day of which wehave just been speaking, a post-chaise drew up to the door with horsesfrom Buxton's Inn, and a fresh relay was immediately ordered to carrythe travellers on towards Bristol. A tall, powerful, showily-dressedman got out with a lady closely veiled, whose costume spoke ofParisian manufacture; and while the portmanteaux and other articles ofbaggage were being taken into the doorway till they could be placedupon the new chaise, the gentleman paid the post-boy, and then askedif he was going back directly.
"In about an hour, Sir," replied the man, touching his hat, with thelook of one well satisfied with his fee.
But at this reply the traveller looked blank, and said, "Well, it doesnot matter. I must get some lad to run over across the moor with thisnote to Mr. Wittingham. Just see for some one, my good fellow. Heshall have half-a-crown for his pains."
But the post-boy was not such a goose as to let the half-crown slip byhim, and, with the most respectful air in the world, he assured thegentleman that he was quite ready to go that minute, and that he hadonly proposed to stay an hour because he did not know--how shouldhe?--that the other wanted to send back.
The note and the half-crown were immediately given, the post-boy gotinto his saddle again, resisted the soft entreaties of the ostler totake a glass of something, and trotted away. No sooner was he gone,however, in the full persuasion that ere a quarter of an hour was overhis two travellers would be on their way to Bristol, than thegentleman he left behind seemed to have suddenly changed his mind. Thehorses were countermanded, a room upstairs looked at, some breakfastordered, and there he and his fair companion seemed disposed to passthe day. After a short but hearty breakfast, which was crowned by aglass of brandy, upon the strength of such an early drive, thegentleman himself sallied forth, saying to the lady, "I must see thatfellow Stephen, and find out if he has peached. If he has, we hadbetter get over the water for a while, at all events; though they canprove nothing, I am sure."
"You will take your rash, wild ways, love," answered the lady, in alanguid tone; "and then you are sure to get into a scrape." But thegentleman did not wait for the end of the admonition, leaving the roomand shutting the door behind him.
We will stay with the lady, however, and a very pretty woman she was,though, indeed, there had been a time when she was prettier. She wascertainly not less than three or four-and-thirty, with good, smallfeatures, and a complexion which had once been exceedingly fine. Ithad become somewhat coarse now, however, and looked as if the processof deterioration had been assisted by a good deal of wine, or someother stimulant perhaps still more potent. Her eyes were fine darkeyes, but they had grown somewhat watery, and there was an occasionalvacancy in them, a wandering uncertainty that bespoke either someintense preoccupation with other subjects than those immediately inquestion, or some failure of the intellect, either from temporary orpermanent causes. Her figure was tall and fine, and her dress veryhandsome in materials and make; but yet there was a something about ittoo smart. There was too much lace and ribbon, too many bright andgaudy colours, too much flutter and contrast, to be perfectlyladylike. There was also a negligence in the way of putting iton--almost a slovenliness, if one may go that length, which madethings nearly new look old and dirty.
Her air and manner, too, were careless and languid; and as she setherself down on one chair, then moved to another, and rested her feetupon a third, it seemed as if something was continually weighing uponher mind, which yet wanted vigour and solidity enough to make aneffort to cast it off.
It was not that she seemed to mope at being left alone by her malecompanion, or that she felt or cared for his absence very much,although she evidently deemed his plans and purposes imprudent andperilous. Far from it: she was as gay, or perhaps gayer, when he wasgone than before; sang a little bit of an Italian song, took a smallnote-book out of her bag and wrote in it some lines, which seemed, bytheir regular length, to be verses; and then, getting up again, sheopened a portmanteau, brought out a book, and began to read. She hadnot continued long, however, when she seemed to become tired of thatalso, and putting back the book again, gave herself up to thought,during the course of which her face was chequered with slight smilesand slight frowns, neither of which had the most pleasant expressionin the world. There was a littleness in it all, indeed, a sort ofcareless indolence, which perhaps bespoke a disposition hackneyed andspoiled by the pleasures, if not the pains of life. And there she sat,casting away from her everything but thought, as if there were nothingin the world valuable or important, except the little accidents, thatmight disturb or promote her own individual comfort. The maid whocarried away the breakfast things informed the landlady that "thewoman upstairs was a taking on it easy, a sitting with her feet on oneof the best chears." And although the good dame did not think fit toobject to this proceeding, she mentally commented on it thus: "Themquality-folks is always giving themselves airs; but if she spiles mynew kivers, I'll take it out in the bill, anyhow."
After this state of things had continued for somewhat more than anhour and a half, the gentleman came back, apparently in great haste,dripping like a Newfoundland dog, and, calling to the ostler before heran upstairs, directed him to put-to the horses as soon as possible.Then, running up, he entered the room where he had left the lady,exclaiming, "Quick, Charlotte, we must be off like the devil!"
"Why, what's the matter, Moreton?" she said, without moving an inch."You are all dripping wet; you have met with some adventure."
"And something else, too," answered the gentleman. "I have met withthat devil of a fellow again, and he recognised me and tried to stopme, but I pulled him into the river, and left him there, getting tothe other bank Heaven knows how. All I am sure of is, that I kept hishead under water for two or three minutes; for he fell undermost. ButI have not time to talk more now, for we must go as if Satan drove us,and I will tell you more as we go along."
"I hope he's drowned," said the lady, with the sweetest possiblesmile; "it is an easy death, they say. I think I shall drown myselfone day or other."
"Pooh!" said the gentleman. "But come along, come along! I havesomething to tell you of Charles; so make haste."
"Of Charles!" exclaimed the lady, starting up as if suddenly rousedfrom a sort of stupor, while a look of intense and fiery malignitycame into her face. "What of him? Have you seen him? Did he see you?"
r /> "I don't know," answered her companion. "But come along;" and takingup one of the portmanteaus as the chaise drove up to the door, hehurried down, and sent up for the other. The lady followed with aquick step, drawing her veil over her face; for she now seemed to beall life and eagerness; and while the gentleman was paying the bill,she got into the chaise and beat the bottom of the vehicle with hersmall foot, as if impatient for his coming.
Before he could reach the door, after having paid the bill, however, aman on horseback galloped quickly up, and, springing to the ground,caught the gentleman by the arm, exclaiming, "Why, hang it, Moreton,you have played me a scurvy trick, to go off and leave me before itwas daylight."
"I could not help it, my dear Wittingham," replied the other: "I wasobliged to be off; there is a d--d cousin of mine down here whom Iwould not have see me for the world. You must not stop me now, byJove; for they have found out where I am, and I expect him to pay hisrespects very soon."
"Devil take it! that's unfortunate," cried Wittingham, "I wanted youto go and call out that meddling scoundrel, Hayward, whom I told youof. He bolted into my room last night, and he told me he hadhorsewhipped me once, and would horsewhip me again whenever he met me,if I could not get some gentleman of honour to arrange a meeting withhim."
"Upon my life, I can't stay," cried the other, "though I should liketo see you shoot him, too, if he is alive, which I have some doubtsof--but stay," he continued, after a moment's thought, "I will find aman for you, and I will send him down without loss of time--MajorWoolstapler; he has been lately in foreign service, but that's all thesame, and he's a capital hand at these things; and, if you follow hisadvice, you will shoot your man to a certainty--he shall be downbefore three days are over; I am off for Bristol, and so up the Cathroad to London. We shall get there to-night; and he will be downto-morrow or the next day early. He'll hear of you at Buxton's, Isuppose. Good-by, good-by." And he jumped into the chaise.
A moment after, as soon as the door was shut, he seemed to recollectsomething, and putting his head out of the window he beckoned up youngWittingham, saying, in a low voice, "You'll need the bull-dogs, soI'll send you down mine. Tell Woolstapler to contrive that you havenumber one. It will do his business, if tolerably well handled--and Isay, Wittingham, don't mention to any one that you have seen me eitherhere or at Oxford. My cousin fancies I am in India still." Thenturning to the postillion, he said, "Go on and brush along fast.Sixpence a mile for good going."
Never was such an intimation given to a postillion without the horsessuffering for it. I actually once made a Bavarian go seven miles and ahalf an hour between Ulm and Augsburg by the same process. I record itas amongst the memorable events of my life, proudly satisfied that noman upon earth ever did the same, either before or since. On thepresent occasion, the postillion, without fear, struck his spurs intothe horse's side, laid the whip over the back of the other with thatpeculiar kind of gentle application which intimated that if thebrown-coated gentleman did not get on as hard as his four legs wouldcarry him, the instrument of propulsion would fall more heavily thenext time; and away they went, at a pace which was a canter up hill, atrot down, and a gallop over the flat. Captain Moreton leaned back inthe chaise and murmured, "We've cut them, by Jove!"
"But what is to be the end of all this?" asked the lady, who seemed tobe now thoroughly roused: "if that man is to go on for ever having hisown way I do not see any thing that is to be gained. We cannot keepthis up much longer, Moreton; and so you thought two days ago. I shallbe compelled to come forward and claim the arrears of the annuity byactual want of money. You told me, when we were at the inn there, thatyou had but ten pounds left, and now you seem to take a different viewof the subject. You men are certainly the most vacillating creaturesin the world."
"Nay," answered Moreton, bowing his head with an air of persiflage,"ladies, it must be owned, are superior to us in that, as ineverything else. Two or three months ago you seemed enchanted withyour plan, and declared, though it had not answered yet, it wouldanswer in the end. I only thought it would not answer for want ofmeans, otherwise I was as well disposed towards it as you could be.Now, on the contrary, you are eager to abandon it, while I wish topursue it, for this simple reason: that I have got the means ofcarrying it on for some time at least, and see the greatestprobability of success. You must recollect, my dear Charlotte, thatthis is not a matter where a few hundreds or a few thousand pounds areat stake, but many thousands a-year."
As usually happens--for nobody ever hears or attends to more, at theutmost, than the twentieth part of what is said to them, the lady'smind fixed upon one particular sentence, without listening to anythingmore, and she repeated, as if contemplating and doubting, "You havegot the means! You have the means!"
"Ay, indeed, I have," answered Captain Moreton, with a smile; "I havegot the means; for, while you were thinking I was doing nothing, I wasshrewdly laying out my own plans, by which I have contrived to screwfull five hundred pounds out of that terrible miser, Wharton. Was notthat somewhat like a _coup?_ With that we can live for some five orsix months in Paris--economically, you know, my love--we must not havechampagne and oysters every day; but we can do well enough; and beforethe time is out, the very event we wished to bring about will havehappened; otherwise my name is not Moreton. I can see very well howmatters are going. He is caught: for the first time in his life reallyand truly captivated; and, if we but take care to play our game well,he will be married and completely in our power within a few weeks. Iknow he will never be able to stand that; and there will but be onechoice before him, either to buy you off at the highest possibleprice, or--"
"Buy me!" cried the lady; "if he had the diamond mines of Golconda, hecould not buy me! If he could coin every drop of blood in his heartinto a gold piece, I would see him mind them all to the very last, andthen refuse them all with scorn and contempt. No, no, I will bring himto public shame and trial; I will make him a spectacle, have himcondemned as a malefactor, break his proud spirit and his hard heart,and then leave him to his misery, as he has left me. For this I havetoiled and longed; for this I have saved and scraped, like the veriestmiser that ever worshipped Mammon in his lowest shape; for this Isaved every sixpence, and lived in self-inflicted poverty and neglect,till I met you, Moreton, in order to hoard enough to keep me, tillthis revenge could be accomplished; and often, very often since, Ihave been tempted to curse you for having, by the extravagance youtaught and practised, squandered away the very means of obtaining allthat I have longed and pined for."
"You speak in a very meek and Christian spirit," cried CaptainMoreton, with a laugh; "but, nevertheless, I will not quarrel with it,Charlotte; for your revenge would serve my purposes too. If we couldbut get him to commit himself beyond recall, I am his next heir, youknow, my dear; and, therefore, the sooner he goes to heaven or BotanyBay, the better for me--don't you think that we could contrive to getup a very well authenticated report of your death in some of thenewspapers, with confirmations of all kinds, so as to leave no doubtsin his mind?"
"Moreton, upon my life I believe you are a fool," cried the lady,bitterly; "would he not plead that as his excuse?--no, no, if I couldso manage it, and, Heaven or the devil send me wit, I care not which,to do it, I would contrive to make him fancy my death certain by smallindications, such as none but himself could apply, and which, to theminds of others would seem but frivolous pretexts if brought forwardin his own justification. If you can help me to such a plan, I willthank you; if not, we must trust to fortune."
"Good faith! I see no means to accomplish that," cried Moreton.
"Now then, let us talk no more about it," answered the lady; andsinking back into the chaise, she relapsed into that state of seemingapathy, from which nothing but passion had the power to rouse her.
"By the way," said Captain Moreton, after about a quarter of an hour'sconsideration, while the chaise rolled rapidly along, "all thosethings that you had in Paris, clocks and chimney ornaments, and suchlike things, what has become of th
em?"
"Oh, they are of little value, Moreton," said the lady; "a thousandfranks would buy them all; the worth would not last you ten minutes atroulette."
"No," answered Captain Moreton, taking no notice whatever of thebitterness with which she spoke; "but I was thinking that they mightbe more serviceable at hazard."
"What do you mean?" she asked, abruptly, fixing her eyes upon him.
"I want to know where they are," answered Captain Moreton, in a cooltone.
"Why you know very well," she answered, sharply, "when I left Paristwo years ago with you, I told the girl, Jeanette, to take care ofthem till I came back. I dare say she has pawned or sold them longago."
"That is the very thing," cried Moreton, rubbing his hands. "We willaway to Paris with all speed; you will keep quite close; I will findout Mamselle Jeanette, and give her intimation that she may sell thethings to pay her own arrears of wages; for that her poor dear ladywill never come back to claim them."
"I see the plan," replied the lady, "but I fear it will not answer,Moreton; I had been living, as you know, in seclusion for a yearbefore, and the very means that I took to make him think me dead, willnow frustrate your scheme for that purpose."
"I don't know that, Charlotte," answered her companion. "He has beenmaking inquiries in Paris, I know; you were traced thither distinctly,and whether all clue was there lost of your proceedings, neither I noryou can tell. But I'll tell you a story. When I was living at myfather's place, he had a particularly fine breed of pheasants, whichregularly every year disappeared about the 8th or 9th of October,without the possibility of proving that any one had been into thecopses. One day, however, when I was out early in the morning, I saw afine old cock, with his green and gold neck, walking along straightthrough a field towards the ground of a neighbouring farmer. Every twoor three seconds down went the pheasant's head, and on he walkedagain. I watched him for a few minutes over a hedge, then made my waythrough, put up the bird, and examined the spot where he had been.There I found a regular pheasant's footpath, and nicely strewed alongit a line of barleycorns, leading straight on to the farmer's ground,in the first hedge of which I found another portly bird fast by theneck in a springe. Now, my dear Charlotte, we'll strew somebarleycorns, and perhaps we may catch your bird in the springe; Imean, we'll throw out such pieces of information as will lead to thecertainty that you were in the Rue St. Jaques two years ago; we willget Jeanette to sell things to pay her own wages, with the best reasonto believe you are dead; and if what I have heard is true, all thatyou have so long aimed at will be accomplished before two months areover."
"I see, I see," answered the lady, and the chaise stopped to changehorses.