Read Lucretia — Complete Page 34


  CHAPTER XIX. MR. GRABMAN'S ADVENTURES.

  The lackeys in their dress liveries stood at the porch of Laughton asthe postilions drove rapidly along the road, sweeping through venerablegroves, tinged with the hues of autumn, up to that stately pile. Fromthe window of the large, cumbrous vehicle which Percival, mindful ofMadame Dalibard's infirmity, had hired for her special accommodation,Lucretia looked keenly. On the slope of the hill grouped the deer, andbelow, where the lake gleamed, the swan rested on the wave. Farther onto the left, gaunt and stag-headed, rose, living still, from the depthof the glen, Guy's memorable oak. Coming now in sight, though at adistance, the gray church-tower emerged from the surrounding masses ofsolemn foliage. Suddenly the road curves round, and straight before her(the rooks cawing above the turrets, the sun reflected from the vanes)Lucretia gazes on the halls of Laughton. And didst thou not, O Guy'soak, murmur warning from thine oracular hollows? And thou who sleepestbelow the church-tower, didst thou not turn, Miles St. John, in thygrave, when, with such tender care, the young lord of Laughton bore thatsilent guest across his threshold, and with credulous, moistened eyes,welcomed Treason and Murder to his hearth?

  There, at the porch, paused Helen, gazing with the rapt eye of thepoetess on the broad landscape, checkered by the vast shadows castfrom the setting sun. There, too, by her side lingered Varney, with anartist's eye for the stately scene, till a thought, not of art, changedthe face of the earth, and the view without mirrored back the Golgothaof his soul.

  Leave them thus; we must hurry on.

  One day a traveller stopped his gig at a public-house in a villagein Lancashire. He chucked the rein to the hostler, and in reply to aquestion what oats should be given to the horse, said, "Hay and water;the beast is on job." Then sauntering to the bar, he called for a glassof raw brandy for himself; and while the host drew the spirit forth fromthe tap, he asked carelessly if some years ago a woman of the name ofJoplin had not resided in the village.

  "It is strange," said the host, musingly. "What is strange?"

  "Why, we have just had a gent asking the same question. I have onlybeen here nine year come December; but my old hostler was born in thevillage, and never left it. So the gent had in the hostler, and he isnow gone into the village to pick up what else he can learn."

  This intelligence seemed to surprise and displease the traveller.

  "What the deuce!" he muttered; "does Jason mistrust me? Has he setanother dog on the scent? Humph!" He drained off his brandy, and salliedforth to confer with the hostler.

  "Well, my friend," said Mr. Grabman,--for the traveller was no otherthan that worthy,--"well, so you remember Mrs. Joplin more than twentyyears ago, eh?"

  "Yees, I guess; more than twenty years since she left the pleck[Lancashire and Yorkshire synonym for place]."

  "Ah, she seems to have been a restless body. She had a child with her?"

  "Yees, I moind that."

  "And I dare say you heard her say the child was not her own,--that shewas paid well for it, eh?"

  "Noa; my missus did not loike me to chaffer much with neighbour Joplin,for she was but a bad 'un,--pretty fease, too. She lived agin the wogh[Anglice, wall] yonder, where you see that gent coming out."

  "Oho! that is the gent who was asking after Mrs. Joplin?"

  "Yes; and he giv' me half-a-croon!" said the clever hostler, holding outhis hand.

  Mr. Grabman, too thoughtful, too jealous of his rival, to take the hintat that moment, darted off, as fast as his thin legs could carry him,towards the unwelcome interferer in his own business.

  Approaching the gentleman,--a tall, powerful-looking young man,--hesomewhat softened his tone, and mechanically touched his hat as hesaid,--

  "What, sir, are you, too, in search of Mrs. Joplin?"

  "Sir, I am," answered the young man, eying Grabman deliberately; "andyou, I suppose, are the person I have found before me on the samesearch,--first at Liverpool; next at C----, about fifteen miles fromthat town; thirdly, at I----; and now we meet here. You have had thestart of me. What have you learned?"

  Mr. Grabman smiled. "Softly, sir, softly. May I first ask--since openquestioning seems the order of the day--whether I have the honour toaddress a brother practitioner,--one of the law, sir, one of the law?"

  "I am one of the law."

  Mr. Grabman bowed and scowled.

  "And may I make bold to ask the name of your client?"

  "Certainly you may ask. Every man has a right to ask what he pleases, ina civil way."

  "But you'll not answer? Deep! Oh, I understand! Very good. But I am deeptoo, sir. You know Mr. Varney, I suppose?"

  The gentleman looked surprised. His bushy brows met over his steady,sagacious eyes; but after a moment's pause the expression of his facecleared up.

  "It is as I thought," he said, half to himself. "Who else could havehad an interest in similar inquiries?--Sir," he added, with a quick anddecided tone, "you are doubtless employed by Mr. Varney on behalf ofMadame Dalibard and in search of evidence connected with the loss ofan unhappy infant. I am on the same quest, and for the same end. Theinterests of your client are mine. Two heads are better than one; let usunite our ingenuity and endeavours."

  "And share the pec, I suppose?" said Grabman, dryly, buttoning up hispockets.

  "Whatever fee you may expect you will have, anyhow, whether I assist youor not. I expect no fee, for mine is a personal interest, which I servegratuitously; but I can undertake to promise you, on my own part, morethan the ordinary professional reward for your co-operation."

  "Well, sir," said Grabman, mollified, "you speak very much like agentleman. My feelings were hurt at first, I own. I am hasty, but I canlisten to reason. Will you walk back with me to the house you have justleft? And suppose we then turn in and have a chop together, and comparenotes."

  "Willingly," answered the tall stranger, and the two inquisitorsamicably joined company. The result of their inquiries was not, however,very satisfactory. No one knew whither Mrs. Joplin had gone, though allagreed it was in company with a man of bad character and vagrant habits;all agreed, too, in the vague recollection of the child, and someremembered that it was dressed in clothes finer than would have beennatural to an infant legally and filially appertaining to Mrs. Joplin.One old woman remembered that on her reproaching Mrs. Joplin for someact of great cruelty to the poor babe, she replied that it was not herflesh and blood, and that if she had not expected more than she had got,she would never have undertaken the charge. On comparing the informationgleaned at the previous places of their research, they found an entireagreement as to the character personally borne by Mrs. Joplin. At thevillage to which their inquiry had been first directed, she was known asa respectable, precise young woman, one of a small congregation of rigidDissenters. She had married a member of the sect, and borne him a child,which died two weeks after birth. She was then seen nursing anotherinfant, though how she came by it none knew. Shortly after this,her husband, a journeyman carpenter of good repute, died; but to thesurprise of the neighbours, Mrs. Joplin continued to live as comfortablyas before, and seemed not to miss the wages of her husband,--nay, sherather now, as if before kept back by the prudence of the deceased,launched into a less thrifty mode of life, and a gayety of dress atvariance both with the mourning her recent loss should have imposed, andthe austere tenets of her sect. This indecorum excited angry curiosity,and drew down stern remonstrance. Mrs. Joplin, in apparent disgust atthis intermeddling with her affairs, withdrew from the village to asmall town, about twenty miles distant, and there set up a shop. But hermoral lapse became now confirmed; her life was notoriously abandoned,and her house the resort of all the reprobates of the place. Whether hermeans began to be exhausted, or the scandal she provoked attracted thenotice of the magistrates and imposed a check on her course, was notvery certain, but she sold off her goods suddenly, and was next trackedto the village in which Mr. Grabman met his new coadjutor; and there,though her conduct was less flagrant, and her expenses less reckless,she made but a v
ery unfavourable impression, which was confirmed by herflight with an itinerant hawker of the lowest possible character. Seatedover their port wine, the two gentlemen compared their experiences,and consulted on the best mode of remending the broken thread of theirresearch; when Mr. Grabman said coolly, "But, after all, I think it mostlikely that we are not on the right scent. This bantling may not be theone we search for."

  "Be not misled by that doubt. To arrive at the evidence we desire, wemust still track this wretched woman."

  "You are certain of that?"

  "Certain."

  "Hem! Did you ever hear of a Mr. Walter Ardworth?"

  "Yes, what of him?"

  "Why, he can best tell us where to look for the child."

  "I am sure he would counsel as I do."

  "You know him, then?"

  "I do."

  "What, he lives still?"

  "I hope so."

  "Can you bring me across him?"

  "If necessary."

  "And that young man, who goes by his name, brought up by Mr. Fielden?"

  "Well, sir?"

  "Is he not the son of Mr. Braddell?"

  The stranger was silent, and, shading his face with his hand, seemedburied in thought. He then rose, took up his candle, and said quietly,--

  "Sir, I wish you good-evening. I have letters to write in my own room. Iwill consider by to-morrow, if you stay till then, whether we can reallyaid each other further, or whether we should pursue our researchesseparately." With these words he closed the door; and Mr. Grabmanremained baffled and bewildered.

  However, he too had a letter to write; so, calling for pen, ink, andpaper, and a pint of brandy, he indited his complaints and his news toVarney.

  "Jason, (he began) are you playing me false? Have you set another man onthe track with a view to bilk me of my promised fee? Explain, or I throwup the business."

  Herewith, Mr. Grabman gave a minute description of the stranger, andrelated pretty accurately what had passed between that gentleman andhimself. He then added the progress of his own inquiries, and renewed,as peremptorily as he dared, his demand for candour and plain dealing.Now, it so happened that in stumbling upstairs to bed, Mr. Grabmanpassed the room in which his mysterious fellow-seeker was lodged, andas is the usage in hotels, a pair of boots stood outside the door, tobe cleaned betimes in the morning. Though somewhat drunk, Grabman stillpreserved the rays of his habitual astuteness. A clever and a naturalidea shot across his brain, illuminating the fumes of the brandy; hestooped, and while one hand on the wall steadied his footing, with theother he fished up a boot, and peering within, saw legibly written:"John Ardworth, Esq., Gray's Inn." At that sight he felt what aphilosopher feels at the sudden elucidation of a troublesome problem.Downstairs again tottered Grabman, re-opened his letter, and wrote,--

  "P.S.--I have wronged you, Jason, by my suspicions; nevermind,--jubilate! This interloper who made me so jealous, who think youit is? Why, young Ardworth himself,--that is, the lad who goes by suchname. Now, is it not clear? Of course no one else has such interestin learning his birth as the lost child himself,--here he is! If oldArdworth lives (as he says), old Ardworth has set him to work on his ownbusiness. But then, that Fielden,--rather a puzzler that! Yet--no. Now Iunderstand,--old Ardworth gave the boy to Mrs. Joplin, and took it awayfrom her again when he went to the parson's. Now, certainly, it maybe quite necessary to prove,--first, that the boy he took from Mr.Braddell's he gave to Mrs. Joplin; secondly, that the boy he left withMr. Fielden was the same that he took again from that woman: therefore,the necessity of finding out Mother Joplin, an essential witness. Q. E.D., Master Jason!"

  It was not till the sun had been some hours risen that Mr. Grabmanimitated that luminary's example. When he did so, he found, somewhat tohis chagrin, that John Ardworth had long been gone. In fact, whateverthe motive that had led the latter on the search, he had succeeded ingleaning from Grabman all that that person could communicate, and theirinterview had inspired him with such disgust of the attorney, and sosmall an opinion of the value of his co-operation (in which lastbelief, perhaps, he was mistaken), that he had resolved to continue hisinquiries alone, and had already, in his early morning's walk throughthe village, ascertained that the man with whom Mrs. Joplin had quittedthe place had some time after been sentenced to six months' imprisonmentin the county jail. Possibly the prison authorities might know somethingto lead to his discovery, and through him the news of his paramour mightbe gained.