Fortunately for us all, Mr. Betterton arrived in the midst of all thiswrangle. He soon succeeded in silencing Mistress Euphrosine'sexacerbating tongue, and this not so much by the magic of his Persuasionas by the aid of the golden Key which is known to open every door--eventhat which leads to a scolding Harridan's heart. Mr. Betterton offeredhis Sister a substantial Sum of Money if she in return would undertaketo give You a comfortable lodging until such time as he himself wouldclaim You as his Wife. He stipulated that You should be madecomfortable and that no kind of menial work should ever be put upon You.
"Mistress Saunderson," he said impressively, "must be left absolutelyfree to pursue her Art, unhampered by any other consideration."
Even so, Mistress Euphrosine could not restrain her malicious tongue,and the whole equitable arrangement might even then have fallen throughbut for your gentleness and quiet determination. Finally, MistressEuphrosine gave in. She accepted the liberal terms which herillustrious Brother was offering her for your Maintenance, but shereserved unto herself the right of terminating the Arrangement at herwill and pleasure. Obviously, she meant to be as disagreeable as shechose; but You had to have a respectable roof over your head until suchtime as You found a Haven under the aegis of your future Husband's Name.
After that, it seemed as if no cloud could ever come to obscure theHeavens of your happiness. Nevertheless, it was very soon after thatEpisode that I chanced upon You one evening, sitting in the parlour withthe Book of a Play before You, yet apparently not intent upon reading.When I spoke your name You started as if out of a Dream and quickly Youput your handkerchief up to your eyes.
I made no remark then; it would have been insolence on my part tointrude upon your private Affairs. But I felt like some faithful cur onthe watch.
For awhile dust was thrown in my eyes from the fact that Mr. Bettertonannounced to us his projected trip abroad, at the instance of SirWilliam Davenant, who desired him to study the Scenery and Decorationswhich it seems were noted Adjuncts to the Stage over in Paris. If Mr.Betterton approved of what he saw there, he was to bring back with him ascheme for such Scenery to be introduced at the new Theatre in Lincoln'sInn Fields, which would be a great triumph over Mr. Killigrew'sManagement, where no such innovations had ever been thought of.
Naturally, Mr. Betterton, being a Man and an Artist, was eager andexcited over this journey, which showed what great confidence SirWilliam Davenant reposed in his Judgment. This, methought, accountedfor the fact that You, Mistress, seemed so much more dejected at theprospect of his Absence than he was. I also was satisfied that thisAbsence accounted for your tears.
Fool that I was! I should have guessed!
Mr. Betterton was absent two months, during which time I oft chancedupon You, dear Mistress, with a book lying unheeded on your lap and yourdark eyes glistening with unnatural brilliancy. But I still believedthat it was only Mr. Betterton's Absence that caused this sadness whichhad of late fallen over your Spirits. I know that he did not writeoften, and I saw--oh! quite involuntarily--that when his Letters camethey were unaccountably short.
Then, one day--it was in May--seeing You more than usually depressed, Isuggested that as the weather was so fine we should repair to theTheatre in Clare Market, and there see Mr. Killigrew's company enact"The Beggar's Bush," a play in which Major Mohun was acting the part of_Bellamente_ with considerable success.
Had I but known what we were destined to see in that Theatre, I swear toGod that I would sooner have hacked off my right leg than to have takenYou thither. Yet We both started on our way, oblivious of what laybefore Us. Time had long since gone by when such expeditions had to bedone in secret. You, Mistress, were independent of MistressEuphrosine's threats and tantrums, and I had come to realise that myEmployer could nowhere else in the whole City find a Clerk who would doso much for such very scanty pay, and that he would never dismiss me,for fear that he would never again meet with such a willing Drudge.
So, the day being one on which Mr. Baggs and Mistress Euphrosine wereabsenting themselves from home, I persuaded You easily enough to comewith me to the Play.
Your spirits had risen of late because you were expecting Mr.Betterton's home-coming. In fact, You had received authentic news thathe would probably be back in England within the week.
4
At once, when I took my seat in the Gallery beside you, I noticed thebeautiful fair Lady in the Box, whom I had not seen since thatmarvellous day a year ago, when you and I sat together at the Play. Shewas more radiantly beautiful than ever before.
Discreet enquiries from my Neighbour elicited the information that shewas the Lady Barbara Wychwoode, daughter of the Marquis of Sidbury, andthe acknowledged Belle among the Debutantes of the season. I understoodthat nothing had been seen of the Lady for the past year or more, owingto the grave and lingering illness of her Mother, during the wholecourse of which the young Girl had given up her entire life to thetending of the Invalid.
Now that his Lordship was a Widower, he had insisted on bringing hisDaughter to London so that she might be brought to the notice of HisMajesty and take her place at Court and in Society, as it beseemed herrank. That place the Lady Barbara conquered quickly enough, by herBeauty, her Charm and her Wit, so much so that I was told that all theyoung Gallants in the City were more or less over head and ears in lovewith her, but that her affections had remained steadfastly true to thefriend and companion of her girlhood, the young Earl of Stour who, inhis turn had never swerved in his Allegiance and had patiently waitedfor the day when her duty to her Mother would cease and her love for himbe allowed to have full sway.
All this, of course, sounded very pretty and very romantic; and you,Mistress, gave ungrudging admiration to the beautiful girl who was thecynosure of all eyes. She sat in the Box, in the company of an elderlyand distinguished Gentleman, who was obviously her Father, and ofanother Man, who appeared to be a year or two older than herself andwhose likeness of features to her own proclaimed him to be her Brother.At the rear of the box a number of brilliant Cavaliers had congregated,who had obviously come in order to pay court to this acknowledged Queenof Beauty. Foremost among these we noticed a tall, handsome young Manwhose noble features looked to me to suggest a somewhat weak yetobstinate disposition. He was undeniably handsome: the huge, fairperiwig which he wore lent a certain manly dignity to his countenance.We quickly came to the conclusion that this must be the Earl of Stour,for it was obvious that the Lady Barbara reserved her most welcomingsmile and her kindliest glances for him.
The company in the Box kept us vastly amused for a time, in theintervals of watching the Actors on the Stage; and I remember thatduring the second Act the dialogue in the Play being somewhat dull, bothYou and I fell to watching the Lady Barbara and her throng of Admirers.Suddenly we noticed that all these Gentlemen gave way as if to aNew-comer who had just entered at the rear of the Box and was apparentlydesirous of coming forward in order to pay his respects. At first wecould not see who the New-comer was, nor did we greatly care. The nextmoment, however, he was behind the Lady Barbara's chair. Anon hestooped forward in order to whisper something in her ear.
And I saw who it was.
It was Mr. Betterton.
For the moment, I remember that I felt as if I were paralysed; eitherthat or crazed. I could not trust mine eyes.
Then I turned my head and looked at You.
You too had seen and recognised. For the moment You did not move, butsat rigid and silent. Your face had become a shade or two paler andthere was a scarce perceptible tremor of your lips.
But that was all. I alone knew that You had just received a stab inyour loving and trusting Heart, that something had occurred which wouldfor ever mar the perfect trustfulness of your early love ... somethingwhich you would never forget.
5
You sat out the rest of the Play, dear Mistress, outwardly quite serene.Never, I think, has my admiration for yo
ur Character and for your Worthbeen more profound. I believe that I suffered almost as much as You. Isuffered because many things were made clear to me then that I hadignored before. Your tears, your many Silences, that look of trustfulhappiness now gone from your eyes. I understood that the Incident wasonly the confirmation of what you had suspected long since.
But you would not let any one see your heart. No! not even me, yourdevoted Bondsman, who would gladly die to save You from pain. Yet Icould not bring my heart to condemn Mr. Betterton utterly. I did notbelieve even then that he had been unfaithful--led away no doubt by theglamour of the society Beauty, by the talk and the swagger of all theidle Gentlemen about town--but not unfaithful. His was not a Nature tolove more than the once, and he loved You, Mistress--loved You from themoment that he set eyes on You, from the moment that he knew your Worth.His fancy had perhaps been captured by the beautiful Lady Barbara, hisHeart wherein your image was eternally enshrined, had been momentarilybewitched by her wiles; but he was not responsible for theseActions--that I could have sworn even then.
Mr. Betterton is above all an Artist, and in my humble judgment Artistsare not to be measured by ordinary standards. Their mind is morefanciful, their fancy more roving; they are the Butterflies of thisWorld, gay to look at and light on the wing.
You never told me, Mistress, what course You adopted after that eventfulafternoon; nor would I have ventured to pry into your secrets. That Youand Mr. Betterton talked the whole matter over, I make no doubt. Icould even tell You, methinks, on which day the heart to heart talkbetween You took place. That there were no Recriminations on your partI dare aver; also that Mr. Betterton received his final dismissal onthat day with a greater respect than ever for You in his Heart, and withdeep sorrow weighing upon his Soul.
After that, his visits to the house became more and more infrequent; andat first You would contrive to be absent when he came. But, as I havealways maintained, his love for You still filled his innermost Being,even though the Lady Barbara ruled over his fancy for the time. Helonged for your Presence and for your Friendship, even though at thattime he believed that You had totally erased his image from your Heart.
And so, when he came, and I had perforce to tell him that You wereabsent, he would linger on in the hope that You would return, and hewould go away with a bitter sigh of regret whenever he had failed tocatch a glimpse of You.
You never told me in so many Words that you had definitely broken offyour Engagement to Mr. Betterton, nor do I believe that such was yourintention even then. Mistress Euphrosine certainly never realised thatYou were smarting under so terrible a blow, and she still spoke gliblyof your forthcoming marriage.
It was indeed fortunate for You, fortunate for us all, that both she andMr. Baggs were too self-absorbed--he in his Business and she in herPiety--and too selfish, to be aware of what went on around them. Theirself-absorption left You free to indulge in the luxury of suffering insilence; and I was made almost happy at times by an occasionalsurreptitious pressure of your Hand, a glance from your Eyes, telling methat my Understanding and Sympathy were not wholly unwelcome.
CHAPTER III
A CRIMINAL FOLLY
1
In June, you made your debut upon the stage, dear Mistress. Though Youonly played a small Part, your Grace and Charm soon won universalapproval. I have so often told You of my feelings, my hopes, my tremorsand my joy on the occasion when first I saw You upon the boards, that Iwill not weary You with the re-telling of them once again. Securelyhidden behind a pillar, I only lived through the super-acuteness of mySenses, which drank in your Presence from the moment when You steppedout from behind the Curtain and revealed your gracious personality to anadmiring Audience.
As long as I live, every word which You spoke on that day will continueto ring in mine ear, and ere mine eyes close for ever in their last longSleep, I shall see your exquisite Image floating dreamlike before theirgaze.
2
From that day onward, I saw you more seldom than I had been wont to dobefore. Your Success at the new Theatre had been so pronounced that SirWilliam Davenant soon entrusted You with more important parts. Thusyour time was greatly taken up both with Performances and withRehearsals and with the choosing and trying on of dresses. Ofnecessity, your work threw you often in the company of Mr. Betterton, hebeing the leading Actor in Sir William's Company, and the most popularas he was the most eminent of His Majesty's Well-Beloved Servants. Infact, his Fame at this time was reaching its Apogee. He was reckonedone of the Intimates of His Majesty himself; Gentlemen and Noblemensought his company; great Ladies were zealous to win his favours.
Needless to say that concurrently with his rise to pre-eminence, an armyof Enemies sprung up around him. Hungry curs will ever bay at the moon.Set a cat upon a high post and in a moment others will congregate downbelow and spit and yowl at their more fortunate kind. Scandal andspite, which had never been so rife as in these days, fastenedthemselves like evil tentacles on Mr. Betterton's fair Name.
He was too proud to combat these, and You too proud to lend an ear tothem. You met him now upon an easy footing of Friendship, of gentlegratitude as of a successful Pupil towards a kindly Teacher. To any onewho did not know You as I do, You must at that time have seemedcompletely happy. You were independent now, earning a good salary,paying Mistress Euphrosine liberally for the lodgings which she placedat your disposal; free to come and go as You pleased, to receive thevisits of Gentlemen who were desirous of paying their respects to You.You were, in fact, Mistress Saunderson, the well-known Actress, who wasbusy climbing--and swiftly, too--the Ladder of Fame.
Of your proposed Marriage with Mr. Betterton there was of course nolonger any talk. For some reason best known to herself, and which Imyself never tried to fathom, even Mistress Euphrosine had ceased tospeak of it.
Did she, within the depths of her ambitious and avaricious Heart,harbour the belief that her Brother would one day wed one of those greatLadies, who were wont to hang entranced upon his lips, when he spoke theimmortal words of the late Mr. William Shakespeare or of Mr. JohnDryden? I know not; nor what benefit she would have derived from it ifsuch an unlikely Event had indeed taken place.
Towards me, she was still frigidly contemptuous. But as to that, I didnot care. I was determined to endure her worst gibes for the sake ofdwelling under the same roof which still had the privilege of shelteringYou.
3
It was one day early in September--just something over a year ago, infact--that my Lord Stour called at the house of Mr. Theophilus Baggs. Iknew him at once for the Cavalier who was ever in attendance upon theLady Barbara Wychwoode and whom rumour had assigned to her as her futureHusband.
Frankly, I had never liked him from the first. I thought him overbearingand arrogant. His manner towards those who were inferior to him instation was always one of contempt. And I often wondered how Mr.Theophilus Baggs, who was an Attorney of some standing in the City ofLondon, could endure the cool insolence wherewith young Gentlemen likemy Lord Stour and others were wont to treat him. Not only that, but heseemed to derive a sort of gratification from it, and was wont torepeat--I was almost going to say that he would boast of--these acts ofoverbearance to which he was so often subjected.
"Another of the stiff-necked sort," he would say after he had bowed oneof these fine Gentlemen obsequiously out of his office. "An honest,God-fearing Man is as dirt beneath the feet of these Gallants."
My Lord Stour, of a truth, was no exception to the rule. I have sincebeen assured that he was quite kindly and gracious in himself, and thathis faults were those of the Milieu in which he had been brought up,rather than of himself.
Of course, You, dear Mistress, were out of the house during the whole ofthat never-to-be-forgotten day of which I am about to speak, andtherefore knew nothing of the terrible Event whic
h then occurred andwhich, in my humble judgment, completely revolutionized Mr. Betterton'scharacter for the time being. But Fate had decreed that I should see itall. Every moment of that awful afternoon is indelibly graven upon myMemory. I had, however, neither the Chance nor the Opportunity to speakto You of it all. At first I did not think that it would be expedient.The humiliation which Mr. Betterton was made to endure on that day wassuch that I could not bear to speak of it, least of all to You, whostill held him in such high esteem. And later on, I still thought itbest to be silent. Mr. Betterton and You seemed to have drifted apartso completely, that I did not feel that it would do any good to rake upold hurts, and to submit them to the cruel light of day.
But now everything is changed. The Lady Barbara's influence over Mr.Betterton has gone, never to return; whilst his Heart once more yearnsfor the only true Love which has ever gladdened it.
4
My Lord Stour came to call upon Mr. Theophilus Baggs at three o'clock ofthe afternoon. Kathleen, the maid of all work, opened the door to him,and Mistress Euphrosine received him in the Parlour, where I was alsositting at my desk, engaged in copying out a lengthy Indenture.
"Master Baggs awaits me, I think," my Lord said as he entered the room.
Mistress Euphrosine made a deep curtsey, for she was ever fond of theAristocracy.
"Will you deign to enter, my Lord?" she said. "My husband will wait uponyour pleasure."
"Tell him to be quick, then," said my Lord; "for I have not a great dealof time to spare."