CHAPTER XXXI.
A GREAT PRIZE.
One of the beauties of this world is, for the many who are not too goodfor it, that they never can tell what may turn up next, and need notover-exert themselves in the production of novelty, because somebodywill be sure to do it for them. And those especially who have the honourand pleasure of dealing with the gentler sex are certain, without anyeffort of their own, to encounter plenty of vicissitude.
Such was the fortune of Dr. Fox, when he called that day atWalderscourt. He found his sweet Nicie in a sad condition, terriblydepressed, and anxious, in consequence of a long interview with hermother, which had been as follows.
For the last fortnight, or three weeks, Lady Waldron had not recoveredstrength, but fallen away even more, declining into a peculiar andmorbid state. Sometimes gloomy, downcast, and listless, secludingherself, and taking very little food, and no exercise whatever; at othertimes bewildered, excited, and restless, beginning a sentence andbreaking it off, laughing about nothing, and then morose with every one.Pretty Tamar Haddon had a great deal to put up with, and probably wouldnot have shown the needful patience, except for handsome fees lightlyearned by reports collected in the village. But Sergeant Jakes beingaccessible no more--for he had cast off the spell in the Abbey, thatSunday--poor Lady Waldron's anxiety was fed with tales of very doubtfulauthority. And the strange point was that she showed no impatience atthe tardiness of the enquiry now, but rather a petulant displeasure atits long continuance.
Now that very morning, while Fox was on the road to call upon hisbeloved, she was sent for suddenly by her mother, and hastened with someanxiety to the room which the widow now left so seldom. Inez had longbeen familiar with the truth that her mother's love for her was not tooardent; and she often tried--but without much success--to believe thatthe fault was on her part. The mother ascribed it very largely to somedefect in her daughter's constitution. "She has not one drop of Spanishblood in her. She is all of English, except perhaps her eyes; and theeyes do not care to see things of Spain." Thus she justified herself,unconscious perhaps that jealousy of the father's love for this petchild had been, beyond doubt, the first cause of her own estrangement.
This terribly harassed and lonely woman (with no one but God to comforther, and very little sense of any consolation thus) was now forsaken bythat support of pride and strength of passion, which had enabled her atfirst to show a resolute front to affliction. Leaning back upon a heavycouch, she was gazing without much interest at the noble ivory crucifix,which had once so strongly affected her, but now was merely a work ofart, a subject for admiration perhaps, but not for love or enthusiasm.Of these there was no trace in her eyes, only apathy, weariness,despondence.
"Lock the outer door. I want no spies," she said in a low voice whichalarmed her daughter; "now come and sit close to me in this chair. Iwill speak in my own language. None but you and I understand it herenow."
"It is well, mother mine," replied her daughter, speaking also inSpanish; "but I wish it were equally well with you."
"It will never be well with me again, and the time will be long beforeit can be well with you. I have doubted for days about telling you, mychild, because I am loth to grieve you. But the silence upon this matteris very bitter to me; moreover it is needful that you should know, incase of my obtaining the blessed release, that you also be not triumphedover. It is of that unholy outrage I must speak. Long has it been ablack mystery to us. But I understand it now--alas, I cannot helpunderstanding it!"
Inez trembled exceedingly; but her mother, though deadly pale, wascalm. Both face and voice were under stern control, and there were nodramatic gestures.
"Never admit him within these doors, if I am not here to bar them. Nevertake his hand, never listen to his voice, never let your eyes rest uponhis face. Never give him a crust, though he starve in a ditch; never lethim be buried with holy rites. As he has treated my dear husband, soshall God treat him, when he is dead. It is for this reason that I tellyou. If you loved your father, remember it."
"But who is it, mother? What man is this, who has abandoned his soul tothe Evil One? Make me sure of his name, that I may obey you."
"The man who has done it is my own twin-brother, Rodrigo, Count deVarcas: Rodrigo, the accursed one."
The Spanish lady clasped her hands, and fell back against the wall, anddropped her eyes; as if the curse were upon her also, for being akin tothe miscreant. Her daughter could find no words, and was in doubt ofbelieving her own ears.
"Yes, I know well what I am saying;" Lady Waldron began again with somecontempt. "I am strong enough. Offer me nothing to smell. Shall I neverdie? I ought to have died, before I knew this, if there were any mercyin Heaven. That my twin-brother, my own twin-brother, the one I haveloved and laboured for, and even insulted my own good husband, becausehe would not bow down to him--not for any glory, revenge, or religion,but for the sake of grovelling money--oh Inez, my child, that he shouldhave done this!"
"But how do you know that he has done it? Has he made any confession,mother? Surely it is possible to hope against it, unless he himself hassaid so."
"He has not himself said so. He never does. To accuse himself is no partof his habits, but rather to blame every other. And such is his mannerthat every one thinks he must be right and his enemies wrong. But tothose who have experience of him, the question is often otherwise. Youremember that very--very faithful gentleman, who came to us, about amonth ago?"
"Mother, can you mean that man, arrogant but low, who consumed all mydear father's boxes of cigars, and called himself Senor Jose Quevedo,and expected even me to salute him as of kin?"
"Hush, my child! He is your Uncle's foster-brother, and trusted by himin everything. You know that I have in the Journals announced my desireto hear from my beloved brother--beloved alas too much, and vainly. Iwas long waiting, I was yearning, having my son in the distance, and youwho went against me in everything, to embrace and be strengthened by myonly brother. What other friend had I on earth? And in answer to myanxiety arrives that man, sedate, mysterious, not to be doubted, butregarded as a lofty cavalier. I take him in, I trust him, I treat himhighly, I remember him as with my brother always in the milky days ofchildhood, although but the son of a well-intentioned peasant. And thenI find what? That he has come for money--for money, which has alwaysbeen the bane of my only and well-born brother, for the very dismalreason that he cannot cling to it, and yet must have both hands filledwith it for ever. Inez, do you attend to me?"
"Mother, I am doing so, with all my ears; and with all my heart as wellI heed. But these things surprise me much, because I have always heardfrom you that my Uncle Rodrigo was so noble, so chivalrous, so far aboveall Englishmen, by reason of the grandeur of his spirit."
"And in that style will he comport himself, upon most of life'soccasions, wherein money does not act as an impediment. Of thatcharacter is he always, while having more than he can spend of it. Butlet him see the necessity, and the compulsion to deny himself, too nearto him approaching, and he will not possess that loftiness of spirit,and benevolence universal. Departing from his larger condition of mind,he will do things which honour does not authorise. Things unworthy ofthe mighty Barcas, from whom he is descended. But the Barcas have oftenbeen strong and wicked; which is much better than weak and base."
Her ladyship paused, as in contemplation of the sterling nobility of herrace, and apparently derived some comfort from the strong wickedness ofthe Barcas.
"Mother, I hope that it is not so." Nicie's view of excellence wasmilder. "You are strong but never wicked. I am not strong; but on theother hand, I trust, that I am not weak and base."
"You never can tell what you can do. You may be most wicked of thewicked yet. Those English girls, that are always good, are braisedvegetables without pepper. The only one I ever saw to approve, was theone who was so rude to me. How great her indignation was! She is worthyto be of Andalusia."
"But why should so wicked a thing be done--so horrible even from
astranger?" The flashing of Nicie's dark eyes was not unworthy ofAndalusia. "How could the meanest greed of money be gratified by such adeed?"
"In this manner, if I understand aright. During the time of the Frenchinvasion, just before our marriage, the Junta of our City had to bear agreat part of the burden of supporting and paying our brave troops. Theyfell into great distress for money, which became scarcer and scarcer,from the terrible war, and the plundering. All lovers of their countrycame with both hands full of treasure; and among them my fathercontributed a loan of noble magnitude, which has impaired for years tocome the fortunes of our family. For not a _peseta_ will ever be repaid,inasmuch as there was no security. When all they could thus obtain wasspent, and the richest men would advance no more, without prospect ofregaining it, the Junta (of which my father was a member) contrived thatthe City should combine with them in pledging its revenues, which werelarge, to raise another series of loans. And to obtain these with morespeed, they appealed to the spirit of gambling; which is in the heartsof all men, but in different forms and manners.
"One loan that was promulgated thus amounted to 100,000 dollars,contributed in twenty shares of 5,000 dollars each: and every share wasto have a life of not less than fifteen years in age appointed torepresent it. No money was to be repaid; but the interest to accumulate,until nineteen out of those twenty lives became extinct, and thereuponthe whole was to go to the last survivor, and by that time it would be avery large sum. I believe that the scheme came from the French, who arewonderfully clever in such calculations; whereas finance is not of us.Do you seem to yourself to understand it?"
"Not very much, but to some extent. I have read of a wheel of life; andthis appears to me to be a kind of wheel of death."
"So it is, my child. You can scarcely be so stupid, as you have beendescribed to me. I am not too strong of the arithmetic science, thoughin other ways not wanting. You will see, that there was a royal treasurethus, increasing for the one who should deserve it, by having more oflife than the nineteen others, and acquiring it thus, for the time hehad to come. That kind of lottery, coming from Paris, was adopted byother Governments, under the title of _Tontine_, I think. My dearfather, who was a warm patriot, but unable to contribute more withouthope of return, accepted two of those five thousand dollar shares, andput into one the name of my brother, and into the other that of my dearhusband, then about to be: because those two were young, while himselfwas growing old. Your father has spoken to me of his share, severaltimes, as it became of greater value; and he provided for it in hiswill, supposing that he should ever become the possessor, although heapproved not of any kind of gambling.
"If you can represent to yourself that scheme, you will see that eachshare was enlarged in prospect, as the others failed of theirs by death;and, of the twenty lives appointed, the greater part vanished rapidly;many by war, and some by duels, and others by accident and disease;until it appears--though we knew it not--that your father and your UncleRodrigo were the sole survivors. Your father and I kept no watch uponit, being at such a distance; but now I have learned that your Uncle hasbeen exceedingly acute and vigilant, having no regard for your dearfather, and small affection, I fear, for me; but a most passionatedevotion to the huge treasure now accumulated upon heavy interest, andsecured by the tolls of the City.
"I am grieved by discovering from this man Quevedo, that your Uncle hasbeen watching very keenly everything that has happened here; he hasemployed an agent, whose name I could not by any means extort fromQuevedo, and not contented with his reports, but excited by the tidingsof your father's ill-health, he has even been present in these partshimself, to reconnoitre for himself; for he is capable of speakingEnglish, even better than I do. Quevedo is very cautious; but by plyinghim with Spanish wine, such as he cannot procure in Spain, feigning alsoto be on his side, I extorted from him more than he wished to part with.No suspicion had I, while he was here, that his master was guilty of theblack disgrace thus inflicted upon us: or can you imagine that I wouldallow that man to remain in the house of the outraged one? And Quevedohimself either feigns, or possesses, total ignorance of this vile deed."
"But, mother dear, how did this suspicion grow upon you? And for whatpurpose--if I may inquire--was that man Quevedo sent to you?"
"He was sent with two objects. To obtain my signature to an attesteddeclaration as to the date of your father's death; and in the secondplace to borrow money for the support of your Uncle's claim. It couldnot be expected that the City would discharge so vast a sum (more thanfive hundred thousand crowns they say) without interposing everypossible obstacle and delay; and our family, through your Uncle'sconduct, has lost all the influence it possessed when I was young. I ampleased to think now that he must be disappointed with the very smallsum which I advanced, in my deep disgust at discovering, that at thevery time when I was sighing and languishing for his support, he was atmy very doors, but through his own selfish malignity avoided histwin-sister. Quevedo meant not to have told me that. But alas! Iextorted it from him, after a slip of his faithful tongue. For you know,I believe, that your father and uncle were never very friendly. Mybrother liked not that I should wed an Englishman; all men of thisnation he regarded with contempt, boasting as they did in our country,where we permitted them to come and fight. But you have never been told,my child, that the scar upon your dear father's face was inflicted byyour Uncle's sword, employed (as I am ashamed to confess) in an unfaircombat. Upon recovering from the stealthy blow, your father in his greatstrength could have crushed him to death, for he was then a stripling;but for my sake he forbore. It has been concealed from you. There is noconcealment now."
"Oh, mother, how savage and ignominious also! I wonder that you evercould desire to behold such a man again; and that you could find it inyour heart to receive his envoy kindly."
"Many years have passed since then, my child. And we have a saying, 'Toa fellow-countryman forgive much, and to a brother everything.' Yourfather had forgiven him, before the wound was healed. Much more slowlydid I forgive. And, but for this matter, never would I have spoken."
"Oh, mother dear, you have had much sorrow! I have never considered it,as I should have done. A child is like an egg, as you say in Spain, thatdemands all the warmth for itself, and yields none. Yet am I surprised,that knowing so much of him, you still desired his presence, andlistened to the deceits of his messenger. But you have wisdom; and Ihave none. Tell me then what he had to gain, by an outrage hateful to ahuman being, and impossible to a Christian."
"It is not clear, my child, to put it to your comprehension. The thingsthat are of great power with us are not in this Country so copious. Weare loftier. We are more friendly with the Great Powers that resideabove. In every great enterprise, we feel what would be their ownsentiments; though not to be explained by heretical logic. Your Unclehas never been devoted to the Church, and has profited little by herteaching; but he is not estranged from her so much, that he need inhonour hesitate to have use and advantage from her charitable breast.For she loves every one, even those who mock her, with feeble imitationof her calls."
"Mother, but hitherto you have cared little or nothing for Holy Church.You have allowed me to wander from her; and my mind is the stronger forthe exercise. Why then this new zeal and devotion?"
"Inez, the reason is very simple; although you may not understand ityet. We love the Institutions that make much of us, even when we aredead, and comfort our bodies with ceremonies, and the weepers withreasons for smiling. This heretic corporation, to which Mr. Penniloebelongs, has many good things imitated from us; but does not understanditself. Therefore, it is not a power in the land, to govern the law, orto guide great actions of property and of behaviour, as the HolyCatholic Church can do, in the lands where she has not been deposed.Knowing how such things are with us, your Uncle (as I am impelled tobelieve), having plenty of time for preparation, had arranged to makeone master-stroke, towards this great object of his life. At once tobring all the Ecclesiastics to his side with fervour
, and before themultitude to prove his claim in a manner the most dramatic.
"Behold it thus, as upon a stage! The whole City is agitated with thenews, and the immensity of his claim. The young men say that it is justto pay it, if it can be proved, for the honour of the City. But the oldmen shake their heads, and ask where is the money to come from; what newtolls can be imposed; and who can believe a thing, that must be provedby the oaths of foreign heretics?
"Lo there appears the commanding figure of the Count de Varcas beforethe great Cathedral doors; behind him a train of sailors bear the bodyof the great British warrior, well-known among the elder citizens by hislofty stature and many wounds, renowned among the younger as a mightyhero. The Bishop, Archbishop, and all powers of the Church (being dealtwith privately beforehand) are moved to tears by this Act of Grace, thismanifest conversion of a noble Briton, claiming the sacred rites of_Campo Santo_, and not likely to enjoy them without much munificence,when that most righteous claim upon the Seculars is paid. Dares any oneto doubt identity? Behold, upon the finger of the departed one, is thevery ring with which the City's benefactor sealed his portion of thecovenant; and which he presented to his son-in-law, as a holy relic ofhis ancient family, upon betrothal to his daughter.
"Thereupon arises the universal cry--'redeem the honour of the City.' Afew formalities still remain; one of which is satisfied by the arrivalof Quevedo with my deposition. The noble Count, the descendant of theBarcas, rides in a chariot extolled by all, and scatters a few _pesetas_of his half a million dollars. It was gained by lottery, it goes bygambling; in six months he is penniless again. He has robbed hisbrother's grave in vain. For another hundred dollars, he would rob histwin-sister's."
"Oh, mother, it is horrible! Too horrible to be true. And yet how itclears up everything! And even so, how much better it is, than what wesupposed, and shuddered at! But have you any evidence beyond suspicion?If it is not unbecoming, I would venture to remind you, that you havealready in your mind condemned another, whose innocence is nowestablished."
"Nay, not established, except to minds that are, like mine, full ofcharity. It is not impossible, that he may have joined my brother--ohthat I should call him so!--in this abominable enterprise. I say it not,to vex you in your lofty faith. But it would have made that enterprisefar easier to arrange. And if a noble Spaniard can stoop thus, whyshould not a common Englishman?"
"Because he is a gentleman;" cried Nicie, rising with a flash ofindignation, "which a nobleman sometimes is not. And since you havespoken thus, I doubt the truth of your other accusation. But that canvery soon be put to the test, by making enquiry on the spot. If what yousuppose has happened at all, it must be of public knowledge there. Haveyou sent any one to enquire about it?"
"Not yet. I have not long seen things clearly. Only since that Quevedoleft, it has come upon me by reasoning. Neither do I know of any trustyperson. It must be one faithful to the family, and careful of itsreputation; for the disgrace shall never be known in this cold England.Remember therefore, I say, that you speak no word, not even to Mr.Penniloe, or Dr. Fox, of this conclusion forced upon me. If in justiceto others we are compelled to avow that the deed was of the family, wemust declare that it was of piety and high religious feeling, andstrictly conceal that it was of sordid lucre."
"But mother, they may in the course of their own enquiries discover howit was at last. The last things ascertained tend that way. And if theyshould find any trace of ship----"
"I have given orders to drop all further searches. And you must use yourinfluence with--with all you have any sway upon, that nothing more shallbe done at present. Of course you will not supply the reason; but saythat it has been so arranged. Now go, my child; I have talked too long.My strength is not as it was, and I dwell most heavily on the betterdays. But one thing I would enjoin upon you. Until I speak again of thatwhich I have seen in my own mind, to its distress and misery, ask me nomore about it, neither in any way refer to it. The Lord,--who is not ofthis Church, or that, but looks down upon us from the Crucifix,--He canpity and protect us. But you will be glad that I have told you this;because it will devour me the less."