CHAPTER IV.
It was impossible to pass an hour in the society of Sir Arthur Dunbar,without seeing much to admire, and much also to love,--there was asturdy, resolute, old-fashioned sense of honor in all his actions,tempered by the kindest and most considerate attention to thefeelings, as well as to the interest of all with whom he might beassociated, and his sentiments were tinctured by a generousliberality, only limited in action by the rigid restraints consequenton a very narrow income, which he had never been known to exceed,though he was often heard jocularly to remark, that the surplus, afterhis yearly accounts were paid, would scarcely buy him a pair ofgloves.
Though the fire of Sir Arthur's eyes had been quenched by approachingblindness, and his weather-beaten countenance had been scarred inbattle, and hardened by facing every tempest which had blown for halfa century, yet his aspect had an air of habitual distinction andconscious dignity which commanded instant respect. There was an energyin the expression of his feelings, and a straightforward pursuit ofwhat he thought right in all his actions, which gave him a singularinfluence over the affections and the conduct of those with whom hewished to associate, and the admirable use he made of which no oneafterwards ever had cause to regret. His early life had been one fullof action and of vigorous exertion, seeking, with old-fashionedpatriotism, the honor of his country, more than the promotion of hisown interests; but in advanced years, when no longer able publicly todistinguish himself, he directed his time and talents to the diffusionof happiness at home, and to a zealous, diligent, and humblepreparation for that long and quiet home to which he believed himselfrapidly approaching, and which he contemplated with the best of allphilosophy,--that of a truly devoted Christian.
With all the blunt frankness of his sailor-like manner, Sir Arthurcould nevertheless testify an almost feminine gentleness and sympathytowards the unfortunate. He was often discovered to have exertedclandestinely a degree of activity and zeal in serving the needy anddesolate, which to a mind less eager and generous, would have seemedalmost incredible,--he never lacerated the feelings of those who cameto him for comfort, by attempting to convince the sufferer, as mostpeople begin by doing, on such occasions, that the misfortune,whatever it be, is all his own fault,--and he was quite as ready, aswell as better pleased, to rejoice with those that rejoiced, than toweep with those that wept, without ever, at any period of life, havingfound a place for envy in his kindest of hearts, which
"Turn'd at the touch of joy or woe, And turning trembled too."
With a good humored smile at his own credulity in having believed thatLouis De Crespigny could ever be serious in proposing to sacrifice aday of his gay and busy life, to a prosing tete-a-tete on thesea-beach with an old man like himself, Sir Arthur dismissed thesubject from his thoughts, and finally relinquished all hope of seeinghis young friend, after a short soliloquy, in which he ended, by slylyhoping that the gay Cornet would never cause those who might feel itmore, to regret his having jilted them.
Not many days following, the Admiral had retired at his usual earlyhour to bed, and after some time passed in profound repose, he wassuddenly startled into wakefulness at the dawn of day, while thewatchman was calling the hour of "Past four o'clock," by a loud andvehement knocking at the front-door of his house, accompanied by themost fearful and vociferous out-cries of "murder!" It was the sharp,shrill tone of a woman in the agony of fear, becoming more and morevehement at every repetition of the cry, while Sir Arthur dressed withthe rapidity of a practised seaman, and hurried down stairs, where hefound his maid-of-all-work, and his man-of-all-work, already assembledin breathless consternation round a trembling, terrified-lookingservant girl, whose eyes were gleaming with an expression of franticalarm, while, from her incoherent exclamations, Sir Arthur could onlygather that some act of unutterable horror had been perpetrated in anopposite house, the windows of which were all partially closed, exceptone in the upper story, which was wide open, and seemed to be muchbroken and shattered.
Without waiting another moment to investigate the business, Sir Arthurstrode across the street, hurried in at the open door, and guided by amomentary cry of childish distress, he mounted the staircase, with anactivity beyond his years, three steps at a time, and precipitatelyentered the nearest room he could find. There he paused for a momenton finding himself in a splendidly-furnished bed-room, adorned with adegree of taste and elegance, far excelling what was customary in soobscure-looking a lodging, and the Admiral was about hastily towithdraw, when he became suddenly transfixed to the spot, and his eyeseemed perfectly blasted by the spectacle which met his agitated andastonished gaze, while several moments elapsed before he had nerve toadvance, and ascertain the reality of a scene, which filled him withhorror.
On a magnificent couch, the rich coverlet of which was drenched inblood, that had sprinkled the floor, and spouted to the very roof ofthe room, lay the cold stiffened corpse of a young female, whose headseemed to have been nearly severed from her body, while a violentcontusion appeared upon her forehead. The wrist of her right hand,with which she had probably attempted to defend herself, had also beendeeply cut, and in her hand she grasped a quantity of dark hair, whichseemed to have been torn from the head of her assassin in the strugglefor life. Her teeth were clenched, and her eye-balls were startingfrom their sockets with a look of agonised fear, most appalling tobehold, and her long fair hair which lay in disordered billows on hershoulders, were matted with gore.
A table near the bed had been overturned and broken,--a knife of verypeculiar form, bent and distorted, lay conspicuously upon the pillow,as if placed there on purpose to attract notice, and the carpet, onwhich a pool of congealed blood had gathered, was likewise strewedwith money, rings, bijouterie, trinkets, and plate.
Nestled in a little crib, close beside the murdered woman, but plungedin a slumber so profound, that it could not be natural, sleptundisturbed and uninjured, a lovely boy of about eight years old. Hishead rested on his arm, and a clustering profusion of jetty black hairfell over his blooming countenance, in which there was a look ofalmost death-like repose. Awakened with the utmost difficulty by SirArthur, the child, who appeared to be of wondrous beauty, opened for amoment, a pair of bright blue, star-like eyes, and with a cry ofterror, called for his mother, but a moment afterwards, overcome byirresistible drowsiness, his rosy cheek dropped upon the pillow, hisheavy eyes were closed, and he relapsed into the same strange,mysterious insensibility as before.
It was a fearful sight, that young mother, with her look of ghastlyagony turned towards the ruddy healthful countenance of her child inhis peaceful slumbers, and it was evident that her last thought hadbeen for him, as his clothes were still convulsively held in her lefthand, while a vain attempt had obviously been made to tear themasunder,--many deep cuts being visible on the child's night-gown,though his person had been left uninjured.
Sir Arthur compassionately snatched the boy up in his arms, to hurryhim away from the dreadful scene, and called the watchman, whoinstantly raised an alarm, and summoned the whole neighborhood to hisassistance, when before ten minutes had elapsed, the room was filledwith a crowd of agitated spectators, scared by the tremendous event,and crowding around the bed in every attitude of astonishment, terror,and commiseration, uttering exclamations of alarm, gazing helplesslyat the frightful spectacle, and forming a thousand conjecturesrespecting the tragical event, instead of attempting to give anyrational assistance.
"Not a moment is to be lost!" said Sir Arthur, in the steadyauthoritive tone of one accustomed in great emergencies, to command,"Where are the other servants?" asked he, turning to the girl who hadfirst given an alarm, "and where is your master?"
"I have no master, Sir!" replied she in a low incoherent whisper. "Ithink the lady was not married; but perhaps, Sir, she might be! Agentleman called here last week."
"What was he like?" asked Sir Arthur, earnestly.
"A sort of clergyman, or gentleman, Sir! I don't know nothing abouthim, but he visited sometimes at this here hous
e. No good ever came ofit though, for my poor young mistress was always in sore distressafter he'd be gone away. Last time there be much loud talking andargufying in the parlor, but it was none of my business to listen. Inever pays no attention to what the quality says!"
"Here is a most disastrous business!" exclaimed Sir Arthur, in a deepand solemn tone, while he glanced at the crowd of white, livid, ashyfaces, collected around him. "Let us remember, my friends, that everytrifle we can observe here, may be of the utmost importance inbringing this dreadful mystery to light. Touch nothing, but have allyour eyes about you to detect what you can, and let us instantlysearch the house."
With the little boy in his arms, who had awakened, bewildered andterrified by the sight of so many strangers, Sir Arthur, followed bythe whole troop of spectators, who huddled together with evidentsymptoms of fearful apprehension, proceeded minutely to scrutinize thewhole house.
In one apartment on the garret floor, belonging, as the terrifiedhousemaid declared, to a person who had been taken in, she believedout of charity, to teach the little boy, the bed was disordered, as ifthe sleeper, when hastily rising, had thrown the bed-clothes almostupon the floor. The window-frame was broken to shivers, by some oneviolently forcing his way out; but no other sign appeared of the roomhaving been inhabited. Not an article of clothing could be found inthe drawers; not a book or a paper; and the search was about to beabandoned, when Sir Arthur perceived in an obscure corner of the room,a man's glove, stained with blood, and a red silk handkerchief, fromwhich the initials had evidently been erased with great care, thoughhe hoped that some one more accustomed to such investigations mightyet be able to trace them.
The next room which Sir Arthur attempted to enter had the doordouble-locked; and though the party which accompanied him made a noiseof knocking and hammering that might have raised the dead, no answerwas returned, till at length, losing all patience, they broke it open,and impetuously rushed forward, all gazing eagerly around, as if theyexpected an immediate _denouement_ of the mystery to take place; butsome of those who were foremost shrunk back in astonishment, andhastily made way for Sir Arthur, while the servant girl earnestlywhispered in his ear, with a look of anxiety and alarm, "This is SarahDavenport's room! the child's maid! Better not disturb her, Sir! She issometimes hardly right in her mind I think!"
When Sir Arthur, disregarding the simple girl's warning, advanced, heperceived with surprise a very young woman, scarcely twenty, whostarted up in bed, with a look of bewildered perplexity, as heapproached, asking in accents of tremulous alarm, what had occurred tocause this extraordinary disturbance. Her cheek was of an ashypaleness, her very lips were blanched, and her voice sounded husky andhollow with agitation; but all this might be attributed to so suddenan inroad of strangers, while again and again she asked with quiveringaccents, whether any accident had occurred, and why they all appearedso alarmed.
"At all events, my darling boy is safe!" added she, holding out herarms to the child, who instantly recoiled from her, with looks ofunequivocal terror, and hiding his face on the shoulder of Sir Arthur,he sobbed aloud with a degree of passionate grief and agitation whichseemed almost beyond his years. The observant eye of Sir Arthurperceived that a dark scowl of malignity flitted for a moment acrossthe beautiful features of Sarah, whose brow became singularlycontracted over her flashing eyes; but making an effort instantly torecover herself, she averted her countenance, and added in a subduedvoice of assumed tranquillity, "The child never knows me in a cap! Iforgot to take it off, but the hurry of seeing so many strangers hasconfused me!"
In an instant she snatched off her night-cap, when her shoulders andneck became covered with a cloud of dark massy ringlets, floating downbelow her waist, and shading her pallid countenance, which had assumedan expression of livid horror, and unnatural wildness. "Let him cometo me now!" added she again, stretching out her arms with a ghastlysmile; but the boy struggled more vehemently than before, and clung toSir Arthur with a tenacity and confidence, which deeply touched theold veteran's heart, who tried to soothe the terrified child by everyendearment which his kind nature could suggest, while his attentionwas nevertheless enchained by observing the rigid, marble look of theyoung woman's countenance; the dragged and corpse-like appearancewhich stole over her features, as if she had suffered a stroke ofparalysis.
"You have been frightened enough already, poor boy!" said Sir Arthur,soothingly. "No one shall hurt you! With me at least you are safe!Stay where you are, and do not be alarmed! No one shall touch you butmyself!"
The child seemed to understand Sir Arthur's promise of protection, andhis head drooped sleepily down, while his eyes again closed in thatdeep unnatural slumber, from which he had been with so much difficultyaroused, till at length,
"Now like a shutting flower, the senses close, And on him lies the beauty of repose."
"Young woman!" said Sir Arthur, bending a look of penetrating scrutinyon Sarah Davenport, "how came you to be quietly asleep, and partlydressed too! while your mistress was murdered in the room immediatelybelow! Did you hear no disturbance? Was no alarm given?"
"My mistress!" exclaimed Sarah, clasping her hands in an attitude ofastonishment, and speaking as if every word would choke her, thoughnot a muscle of her face was altered from the fixed and rigid look ithad previously worn. "Oh! what will become of me!"
"What will become of you!" exclaimed Sir Arthur sternly, fixing hispenetrating eye upon her. "Think rather of your murdered mistress!Come, come, girl! you performed that start very well; but I know goodacting! I greatly fear you are more concerned in this horrid businessthan we at first suspected, and much more than you would wish toacknowledge. Get up instantly, and follow me!"
There was something fearful and appalling in the silence which reignedamong the many persons who had gathered around, when Sarah, as aprisoner, was led into the chamber of death. A look of shudderinghorror distorted for a moment her pale and haggard countenance, whenshe was unwillingly drawn forward to the place where her deceasedmistress lay, and Sir Arthur, with silent solemnity, pointed to theghastly spectacle. His eyes were intensely and most mournfully fixedon the prisoner's sullen and nearly livid countenance, while shesilently clung to a chair to support herself.
Sarah appeared neither startled nor astonished after the first thrillof horror, but with a cold stony look of almost preternaturalcalmness, she muttered to herself in a low tone, which becamenevertheless distinctly audible to all the spectators, and wasevidently meant to be heard,--
"Why am I brought here! I know nothing, about this! The poor lady hascommitted suicide! No wonder! She often wished herself dead! She had amiserable life of it, and has got rest at last! I wish!" added Sarahsuddenly, with vehement, almost frantic energy, "O how I wish that Icould change places with her! O that I could be that cold, senselessimage, without memory or feeling, without hope or fear, shut up fromliving wretchedness in everlasting sleep!"
"Let us hope that the Almighty has in mercy received her never-dyingsoul, and that in His own good time He will reveal the guiltyassassins who sent her so suddenly to judgment," said Sir Arthursolemnly. "Unburden your own mind now, by confessing all, and beassured it will relieve the agony you are so evidently suffering.Murder is like fire, it cannot be smothered long."
"I know nothing! What could I know!" replied Sarah hurriedly. "She hasdestroyed herself, or thieves have broken into the house and robbedher. Could I help that?"
"No one has broken into this house," replied Sir Arthur, scanning theexpression of her fixed and apparently unalterable features. "But youcan perhaps tell us who escaped by that shattered window above? Not alock is broken--not a door is injured--not a trinket seems missing,among the many scattered around the room. Here is money in abundance,if gold had been the inducement! Some other motive has provoked thiscrime--jealousy perhaps--or revenge----"
At the last word an angry hectic rushed over the face, arms, and neckof the prisoner, and her eye glittered for a moment with an unnaturalfire, which rapidly f
aded away, leaving her as pale and death-like asthe corpse beside which she stood, and on which her eye now restedwith a look of cold and passionless indifference.
"It was only yesterday that she wished herself dead! this is her owndoing!" said Sarah, turning away. "Why am I brought here! This is toodreadful! too shocking! It will drive me mad--it will! it will!" addedshe, with rising agitation; and then suddenly bursting in a hideousmaniacal laugh, which rang with fearful sound through the gloomychamber, and caused the horror-struck spectators to fall hastily back,"I would have saved her! I would! What woman ever sheds blood! but itwas too late! I would have saved her, as I saved the child; but it wasdone--kill me! kill me! if you have any mercy, let me die! let me hidemyself in the grave for ever!" Saying these words, with a scream ofagony, she fell upon the floor in violent convulsions, from which itwas nearly an hour before she entirely recovered, when faint, weak,and exhausted, Sir Arthur suggested that she could be carried to bed;but before she left the room, anxious, if possible, to elucidate themystery, and to gain some clue for pursuing the actual murderer, hedetained Sarah during a moment, and desired that a glass of watermight be brought for her, hoping that the violent emotion she hadbetrayed might lead her to a full confession. Laying his hand thenupon her arm, in tones of deep and awful solemnity, he looked at her,and pointed once more to the corpse, saying,--
"By a dark and harrowing crime those lips are sealed in the silence ofdeath! What a tale they could disclose, if they might but oncedescribe all that passed in this room a few hours ago! Those verywalls have echoed this very night to her cries! You alone seem able tothrow any light upon the horrid deed. You could tell all, or I amgreatly mistaken. We shall yet know, at the day of judgment, if notsooner, how this fearful act was done. Consider, Sarah Davenport, thatundying remorse will pursue you through life, and be the fittingtenant of your soul, unless by timely repentance you avert the fearfuldoom, and hereafter your heart will be tortured by the pangs ofeternal despair. Unfortunate woman! consider now, or during the longperiod of your approaching imprisonment, whether it be better torepent and confess at once, or to confess and suffer everlastingly."
Not a word or look gave evidence that Sarah so much as heard SirArthur speak. Her large eyes were vacantly fixed on the ground, herhands were firmly clenched, and her teeth were set with an air ofresolute determination, when, after a silence of several minutes,during which her very stillness was frightful, supported by some ofthe strangers around, she walked with almost mechanicalunconsciousness out of the room.
Again and again the house was searched that day--the very floors andwainscots torn up; but not a trace could be discovered to throw lightupon the cause or circumstances of this disastrous event; and equallyremarkable was it, that no hint could be obtained of who or what themurdered lady had been. There were books on the table in variouslanguages, but not one retained any name written on the boards, thoughit was evident that on some a coat of arms had once been pasted, andsubsequently defaced. Not a letter or paper could be found with eithersignature or direction, though one or two notes were discoveredbeneath the pillow of the bed, all anonymous, but written in a similarhand, and containing nothing that could identify the writer; andseveral sketches of the child, beautifully executed in variousattitudes, were found in a portfolio, beside which were written manysimple verses, containing the most fervent expressions of tenderaffection and anxious solicitude for the boy, and the most passionatebursts of melancholy, but all conceived in general terms, whichbaffled the researches of curiosity.
"This hand is disguised, yet surely I have seen it before," said SirArthur, musingly examining the anonymous notes, which related chieflyto remittances of money. "The face of that appalling spectaclesometimes seems also familiar to me. Have I not met with it already,or is this only the delusion of an excited mind? These deep andprominent eyelids--the small aquiline nose--the delicately-pencilledeye-brows--and that month of perfect grace and beauty, which seemsstill almost to speak without a tongue, in the language ofheart-broken misery, telling of deceived affections--of blightedhopes--of unpitied and solitary tears."
Sir Arthur seated himself on a chair beside the couch for some momentsin agitated reflection, vainly endeavoring to collect his thoughts,and form them into some tangible remembrance. "It is a strange andbewildering sensation, to look at the mute features of this death-likeimage, and to feel as if once she had been known to me in her days ofyouth and bloom. A vague harassing perplexity besets me in trying torealize the floating and flickering remembrance, which dimly mock myefforts to catch them. It seems like starting out on a dark night, andtrying to distinguish some busy scene, where figures and lightsappear, and vanish again before they can be identified. Where have wemet before? Surely in some dream of former days I once beheld thosefixed and glassy eyes lighted up with intelligence! but my treacherousmemory will not help me--it recalls enough to torture me withperplexity, and not enough to be of any actual avail."
Sir Arthur wearied himself with intense efforts to identify thelineaments before him, but in vain. They were lovely indeed, and manya stranger came likewise to try whether they could be recognised, butwithout success. The fearful story circulated like wild-fire--theexcitement and curiosity it produced became intense; but not a gleamof light was thrown upon the dark and mysterious event.
Among the many who hurried to behold the murdered woman before herremains were disturbed, two gentlemen arrived one evening after dusk,and having ascertained that neither the Admiral nor any other strangerwas in the house, they gave Sir Arthur's servant, Martin, who was inattendance, a handsome donation, and desiring him not to follow,hurried up stairs, and remained in the room alone for several minutes.Both were much muffled up, and evidently avoided any scrutiny of theircountenances; but they seemed greatly agitated on leaving the room;and as they hastened past Martin, and threw themselves into a hackneycoach which awaited them at some distance, one of the party hadappeared so overcome, that he could not walk without support. Muchconjecture was aroused by this incident, which seemed to increase themystery and interest attached to the melancholy circumstances, and nota doubt could be entertained that these untimely visitors had a morethan common connection with the affair, but of what nature, and towhat degree, could only admit of very vague conjecture.
Nothing could exceed the active interest taken in all the proceedingsby Sir Arthur, who seemed to forget all his years and infirmities,while keenly promoting the cause of truth and justice. Much as he hadformerly bemoaned the trouble entailed upon him by deceased friends,many of whom had bequeathed their estates and children to hisguardianship, he felt on this occasion, a pity so intense, for thenameless, friendless, and helpless boy, thus unexpectedly andtragically thrown on his compassion, that he publicly pledged himselfto harbor and protect the child in the mean time, trusting that someconnections might at last be found, to whom he more naturallybelonged. "Life has had a mournful commencement for him, poor boy! Hisdays are dark, and his friends are few," said Sir Arthur, with astrong emotion of pity, "but we must hope for the best hereafter, anddo the best that can be done in the mean time, trusting that a wiseProvidence, who cast him on my care and kindness, will also watch overhis future welfare."
On the night previous to that appointed by Sir Arthur for committingto the grave the last remains of the murdered lady, he who had sooften faced death in every form, and "kiss'd the mouth of a cannon inbattle," yet felt himself awed and deeply affected in contemplatingthe solemn preparations for committing to the tomb one so young, sodeeply injured, and so apparently unlamented. It was with mournful andmysterious wonder that he stood beside the corpse, and contemplatedthat mortal frame, from which the spirit had been so suddenly and socruelly driven; and he could not but imagine the scenes of love andjoy which those eyes had once probably looked upon--the busy thoughtsthat had hurried through that lifeless head--the warm affections thathad flowed through that heart, now for ever at rest.
While yet his mind was dwelling with painful interest on all thet
houghts which crowded through his fancy, Martin hastily entered theroom, and in an agitated voice requested Sir Arthur's immediatepresence in the entrance-hall, as some persons were there who hadorders to communicate only with himself.
On arriving in the passage, Sir Arthur was astonished, and almoststartled, to find several porters in the passage, carrying a coffinmagnificently decorated, and covered with a velvet pall, on the summitof which was conspicuously placed a large brass plate, with the dateof the murder engraved, and bearing no other inscription, but thesetwo words in German characters--
_My Wife._
"This is strange!" said Sir Arthur, turning anxiously to the men. "Whosent you here?"
"A gentleman left his orders with the undertaker, Sir. No questionswere to be asked; and he paid for everything at once, leaving neithername nor direction," said the man who seemed to have charge of thebusiness. "We know nothing of him; but he desired us to deliver thisnote into your own hands, and perhaps it may tell you more."
Sir Arthur hastily tore open the letter offered to him, giving animpatient glance at the handwriting, which was exactly similar to thatof the anonymous notes he had already so carefully and so vainlyscrutinized. He was astonished; and solemn as the occasion was, almostamused to observe that his name and direction had been carefully cutout of the newspaper paragraph which he quarrelled with some weeksbefore at the Club, and that this unknown correspondent, to preventthe possibility of his writing being detected by those who examinedthe outside, had pasted these printed letters on the cover, "SirArthur Dunbar, Portobello." The packet was sealed with a plainimpression on black wax; the paper bore a broad black border; andthere was an evident tremulousness in the pen which had inscribedthese words:--
"Enclosed is the sum of L200, for the benefit of Sir Arthur Dunbar'sadopted ward, Henry De Lancey. The same amount shall be transmittedannually, so long as no effort is made to trace from whence itoriginates; and the day he comes of age, it shall be increased to L500per annum. The first attempt to find out his connections will bedetected, and shall put a final period to all intercourse. Theunfortunate woman was married to one who remained ignorant, till a fewhours ago, of the circumstances attending her death. She disgraced hisname, and abandoned his house; nevertheless her child may one day,perhaps, be acknowledged; and the whole expenses of his educationshall be liberally defrayed, till he is grown up and has chosen aprofession."
It was a strange, cold, heartless communication from a parent, withoutone expression of relenting affection, one word of solicitude for hishappiness, or one expression of gratitude to Sir Arthur for takingupon himself so arduous a charge; but still it was to a certain extentmost satisfactory, the Admiral being relieved of a great perplexity,by having thus ascertained in what rank of life the interesting boyshould be educated, as he felt justified now in obtaining for him thehighest cultivation, an advantage to which he attached the utmostimportance, often repeating his favorite aphorism, that "principle isthe helm, and learning the main-sail, which carries a young manforward in life; but both would be useless, unless the wind, which'bloweth where it listeth,' be sent from Heaven to guide and directhim safely into harbor."