CHAPTER LXVI.
And now I'm the world alone, ............ But why for others should Igroan, When none will sigh for me?--Byron.
The whole country was in confusion at the news of the murder. All themyrmidons of justice were employed in the most active research for themurderers. Some few persons were taken up on suspicion, but were asinstantly discharged. Thornton and Dawson underwent a long and rigorousexamination; but no single tittle of evidence against them appeared:they were consequently dismissed. The only suspicious circumstanceagainst them, was their delay on the road; but the cause given, the sameas Thornton had at first assigned to me, was probable and natural. Theshed was indicated, and, as if to confirm Thornton's account, a glovebelonging to that person was found there. To crown all, my own evidence,in which I was constrained to mention the circumstance of the muffledhorseman having passed me on the road, and being found by me on the spotitself, threw the whole weight of suspicion upon that man, whoever hemight be.
All attempts, however, to discover him were in vain. It was ascertainedthat a man, muffled in a cloak, was seen at Newmarket, but notremarkably observed; it was also discovered, that a person so habitedhad put up a grey horse to bait in one of the inns at Newmarket; but inthe throng of strangers, neither the horse nor its owner had drawn downany particular remark.
On further inquiry, testimony differed; four or five men, in cloaks, hadleft their horses at the stables; one ostler changed the colour of thesteed to brown, a second to black, a third deposed that the gentlemanwas remarkably tall, and the waite swore solemnly he had given a glassof brandy and water to an unked looking gentleman, in a cloak, who wasremarkably short. In fine, no material point could be proved, and thoughthe officers were still employed in active search, they could tracenothing that promised a speedy discovery.
As for myself, as soon as I decently could, I left Chester Park, witha most satisfactory dispatch in my pocket, from its possessor to LordDawton, and found myself once more on the road to London!
Alas! how different were my thoughts! How changed the temper of my mind,since I had last travelled that road. Then I was full of hope, energy,ambition--of interest for Reginald Glanville--of adoration for hissister; and now, I leaned back listless and dispirited, without a singlefeeling to gladden the restless and feverish despair which, ever sincethat night, had possessed me. What was ambition henceforth to me?The most selfish amongst us must have some human being to whom torefer--with whom to connect--to associate--to treasure the triumphs andgratifications of self. Where now was such a being to me? My earliestfriend, for whom my esteem was the greater for his sorrows, my interestthe keener for his mystery, Reginald Glanville, was a murderer! adastardly, a barbarous felon, whom the chance of an instant mightconvict!--and she--she, the only woman in the world I had ever reallyloved--who had ever pierced the thousand folds of my ambitious andscheming heart--she was the sister of the assassin!
Then came over my mind the savage and exulting eye of Thornton, when itread the damning record of Glanville's guilt; and in spite of my horrorat the crime of my former friend, I trembled for his safety: nor was Isatisfied with myself at my prevarication as a witness. It is true, thatI had told the truth, but I had concealed all the truth; and my heartswelled proudly and bitterly against the miniature which I stillconcealed in my bosom.
Light as I may seem to the reader, bent upon the pleasures and thehonours of the great world, as I really was, there had never, since Ihad recognized and formed a decided code of principles, been a singlemoment in which I had transgressed it; and perhaps I was sterner andmore inflexible in the tenets of my morality, such as they were, thaneven the most zealous worshipper of the letter, as well as the spirit ofthe law and the prophets, would require. Certainly there were many pangswithin me, when I reflected, that to save a criminal, in whose safetyI was selfishly concerned, I had tampered with my honour, paltered withthe truth, and broken what I felt to be a peremptory and inviolableduty. Let it be for ever remembered, that once acknowledge and ascertainthat a principle is publicly good, and no possible private motive shouldever induce you to depart from it.
It was with a heightened pulse, and a burning cheek, that I enteredLondon; before midnight I was in a high fever; they sent for thevultures of physic--I was bled copiously--I was kept quiet in bed forsix days, at the end of that time, my constitution and youth restoredme. I took up one of the newspapers listlessly: Glanville's name struckme; I read the paragraph which contained it--it was a high-flown andfustian panegyric on his genius and promise. I turned to another column,it contained a long speech he had the night before made in the House ofCommons.
"Can such things be?" thought I; yea, and thereby hangs a secret and ananomaly in the human heart. A man may commit the greatest of crimes, and(if no other succeed to it,) it changes not the current of his being--toall the world--to all intents--for all objects, he may be the same.He may equally serve his country--equally benefit his friends--begenerous--brave--benevolent, all that he was before. One crime, howeverheinous, makes no revolution in the system--it is only the perpetualcourse of sins, vices, follies, however insignificant they may seem,which alters the nature and hardens the heart.
My mother was out of town when I returned there. They had written to herduring my illness, and while I was yet musing over the day's journal, aletter from her was put into my hand. I transcribe it.
"My Dearest Henry,
"How dreadfully uneasy I am about you: write to me directly. I wouldcome to town myself, but am staying with dear Lady Dawton, who wont hearof my going; and I cannot offend her for your sake. By the by, why haveyou not called upon Lord Dawton? but, I forgot, you have been ill. Mydear, dear child, I am wretched about you, and now pale your illnesswill make you look! just too, as the best part of the season is comingon. How unlucky! Pray, don't wear a black cravat when you next call onLady Roseville; but choose a very fine baptiste one--it will make youlook rather delicate than ill. What physician do you have? I hope, inGod, that it is Sir Henry Halford. I shall be too miserable if it isnot. I am sure no one can conceive the anguish I suffer. Your father,too, poor man, has been laid up with the gout for the last three days.Keep up your spirits, my dearest child, and get some light booksto entertain you; but, pray, as soon as you are well, do go to LordDawton's--he is dying to see you; but be sure not to catch cold. Howdid you like Lady Chester? Pray take the greatest care of yourself, andwrite soon to
"Your wretched, and most
"Affectionate Mother,
"F. P.
"P.S. How dreadfully shocking about that poor Sir John Tyrrell!"
I tossed the letter from me. Heaven pardon me if the misanthropy of mymood made me less grateful for the maternal solicitude than I shouldotherwise have been.
I took up one of the numerous books with which my table was covered; itwas a worldly work of one of the French reasoners; it gave a new turnto my thoughts--my mind reverted to its former projects of ambition.Who does not know what active citizens private misfortune makes us? Thepublic is like the pools of Bethesda--we all hasten there, to plunge inand rid ourselves of our afflictions.
I drew my portfeuille to me, and wrote to Lord Dawton. Three hoursafter I had sent the note, he called upon me. I gave him Lord Chester'sletter, but he had already received from that nobleman a notification ofmy success. He was profuse in his compliments and thanks.
"And, do you know," added the statesman, "that you have quite made aconquest of Lord Guloseton? He speaks of you publicly in the highestterms: I wish we could get him and his votes. We must be strengthened,my dear Pelham; every thing depends on the crisis."
"Are you certain of the cabinet?" I asked.
"Yes; it is not yet publicly announced, but it is fully known amongstus, who comes in, and who stays out. I am to have the place of--."
"I congratulate your lordship from my heart. What post do you design forme?"
Lord Dawton changed countenance. "Why--really--Pelham, we have notyet filled up the lesser appointments, but
you shall be wellremembered--well, my dear Pelham, be sure of it."
I looked at the noble speaker with a glance which, I flatter myself, ispeculiar to me. If, thought I, the embryo minister is playing upon me asupon one of his dependant characters; if he dares forget what he owesto my birth and zeal, I will grind myself to powder but I will shake himout of his seat. The anger of the moment passed away.
"Lord Dawton," said I, "one word, and I have done discussing my claimsfor the present. Do you mean to place me in Parliament as soon as youare in the cabinet? What else you intend for me, I question not."
"Yes, assuredly, Pelham. How can you doubt it?"
"Enough!--and now read this letter from France."
Two days after my interview with Lord Dawton, as I was riding leisurelythrough the Green Park, in no very bright and social mood, one of thefavoured carriages, whose owners are permitted to say, "Hic iter estnobis," overtook me. A sweet voice ordered the coachman to stop, andthen addressed itself to me.
"What, the hero of Chester Park returned, without having once narratedhis adventures tome?"
"Beautiful Lady Roseville," said I, "I plead guilty of negligence--nottreason. I forgot, it is true, to appear before you, but I forget notthe devotion of my duty now that I behold you. Command, and I obey."
"See, Ellen," said Lady Roseville, turning to a bending and blushingcountenance beside her, which I then first perceived--"See what it isto be a knight errant; even his language, is worthy of Amadis ofGaul--but--(again addressing me) your adventures are really too shockinga subject to treat lightly. We lay our serious orders on you to come toour castle this night: we shall be alone."
"Willingly shall I repair to your bower, fayre ladie; but tell me, Ibeseech you, how many persons are signified in the world 'alone?'"
"Why," answered Lady Roseville, "I fear we may have two or three peoplewith us; but I think, Ellen, we may promise our chevalier, that thenumber shall not exceed twelve."
I bowed and rode on. What worlds would I not have given to have touchedthe hand of the countess's companion, though only for an instant.But--and that fearful but, chilled me, like an ice-bolt. I put spursto my horse, and dashed fiercely onwards. There was rather a high windstirring, and I bent my face from it, so as scarcely to see the courseof my spirited and impatient horse.
"What ho, Sir!--what ho!" cried a shrill voice--"for God's sake, don'tride over me before dinner, whatever you do after it!"
I pulled up. "Ah, Lord Guloseton! how happy I am to see you; prayforgive my blindness, and my horse's stupidity."
"'Tis an ill wind," answered the noble gourmand, "which blows nobodygood. An excellent proverb, the veracity of which is daily attested;for, however unpleasant a keen wind may be, there is no doubt of itsbeing a marvellous whetter of that greatest of Heaven's blessings--anappetite. Little, however, did I expect, that besides blowing me arelish for my saute de foie gras, it would also blow me one who might,probably, be a partaker of my enjoyment. Honour me with your company atdinner to-day."
"What saloon will you dine in, my Lord Lucullus?" said I, in allusion tothe custom of the epicure, by whose name I addressed him.
"The saloon of Diana," replied Guloseton--"for she must certainly haveshot the fine buck of which Lord H. sent me the haunch that we shallhave to-day. It is the true old Meynell breed. I ask you not to meet Mr.So-and-so, and Lord What-dye-call-him: I ask you to meet a saute de foiegras, and a haunch of venison."
"I will most certainly pay them my respects. Never did I know before howfar things were better company than persons. Your lordship has taught methat great truth."
"God bless me," cried Guloseton, with an air of vexation, "here comesthe Duke of Stilton, a horrid person, who told me the other day, atmy petit diner, when I apologized to him for some strange error of myartiste's, by which common vinegar had been substituted for Chili--whotold me--what think you he told me? You cannot guess; he told me,forsooth, that he did not care what he eat; and, for his part, he couldmake a very good dinner off a beef-steak! Why the deuce, then, didhe come and dine with me? Could he have said any thing more cutting?Imagine my indignation, when I looked round my table and saw so manygood things thrown away upon such an idiot."
Scarcely was the last word out of the gourmand's mouth before the noblepersonage so designated, joined us. It amused me to see Guloseton'scontempt (which he scarcely took the pains to suppress) of a person whomall Europe honoured, and his evident weariness of a companion, whosesociety every one else would have coveted as the summum bonum of worldlydistinction. As for me, feeling any thing but social, I soon left theill-matched pair, and rode into the other park.
Just as I entered it, I perceived, on a dull, yet cross-looking pony,Mr. Wormwood, of bitter memory. Although we had not met since our mutualsojourn at Sir Lionel Garratt's, and were then upon very cool terms ofacquaintance, he seemed resolved to recognize and claim me.
"My dear Sir," said he, with a ghastly smile, "I am rejoiced once moreto see you; bless me, how pale you look. I heard you had been very ill.Pray have you been yet to that man who professes to cure consumption inthe worst stages?"
"Yes," said I, "he read me two or three letters of reference from thepatients he had cured. His last, he said, was a gentleman very far gone;a Mr. Wormwood."
"Oh, you are pleased to be facetious," said the cynic, coldly--"but praydo tell me about that horrid affair at Chester Park. How disagreeable itmust have been to you to be taken up on suspicion of the murder."
"Sir," said I, haughtily, "what do you mean?"
"Oh, you were not--wern't you? Well, I always thought it unlikely; butevery one says so--"
"My dear Sir," I rejoined, "how long is it since you have minded whatevery body says? If I were so foolish, I should not be riding with younow; but I have always said, in contradiction to every body, and even inspite of being universally laughed at for my singular opinion, thatyou, my dear Mr. Wormwood, were by no means silly, nor ignorant, norinsolent, nor intrusive; that you were, on the contrary, a very decentauthor, and a very good sort of man; and that you were so benevolent,that you daily granted to some one or other, the greatest happiness inyour power: it is a happiness I am now about to enjoy, and it consistsin wishing you 'good bye!'" And without waiting for Mr. Wormwood'sanswer, I gave the rein to my horse, and was soon lost among the crowd,which had now began to assemble.
Hyde Park is a stupid place; the English make business an enjoyment,and enjoyment a business--they are born without a smile--they rove aboutpublic places like so many easterly winds--cold, sharp, and cutting; orlike a group of fogs on a frosty day, sent out of his hall by Boreas forthe express purpose of looking black at one another. When they ask you,"how you do," you would think they were measuring the length of yourcoffin. They are ever, it is true, labouring to be agreeable; but theyare like Sisyphus, the stone they roll up the hill with so much toil,runs down again, and hits you a thump on the legs. They are sometimespolite, but invariably uncivil; their warmth is always artificial--theircold never, they are stiff without dignity, and cringing withoutmanners. They offer you an affront, and call it "plain truth;" theywound your feelings, and tell you it is manly "to speak their minds;" atthe same time, while they have neglected all the graces and charitiesof artifice, they have adopted all its falsehood and deceit. While theyprofess to abhor servility, they adulate the peerage--while they tellyou they care not a rush for the minister, they move heaven and earthfor an invitation from the minister's wife. There is not another courtin Europe where such systematized meanness is carried on,--where theywill even believe you, when you assert that it exists. Abroad, youcan smile at the vanity of one class, and the flattery of another: thefirst, is too well bred to affront, the latter, too graceful to disgust;but here, the pride of a noblesse, (by the way, the most mushroomin Europe,) knocks you down in a hail-storm, and the fawning of thebourgeois makes you sick with hot water. Then their amusements--theheat--the dust--the sameness--the slowness of that odious park in themorning; and the same exquisite sce
ne repeated in the evening, on thecondensed stage of a rout-room, where one has more heat, with lessair, and a narrower dungeon, with diminished possibility of escape!--wewander about like the damned in the story of Vathek, and we pass ourlives, like the royal philosopher of Prussia, in conjugating the verb,Je m'ennuie.