CHAPTER THE FOURTH
Twilight View of the Man
OUR nice dinner had long since come to an end. We had chattered,chattered, chattered--as usual with women--all about ourselves. The dayhad declined; the setting sun was pouring its last red luster into ourpretty sitting-room--when Lucilla started as if she had suddenlyremembered something, and rang the bell.
Zillah came in. "The bottle from the chemist's," said Lucilla. "I oughtto have remembered it hours ago."
"Are you going to take it to Susan yourself, my dear?"
I was glad to hear the old nurse address her young lady in that familiarway. It was so thoroughly un-English. Down with the devilish system ofseparation between the classes in this country--that is what I say!
"Yes; I am going to take it to Susan myself."
"Shall I go with you?"
"No, no. Not the least occasion." She turned to me. "I suppose you aretoo tired to go out again, after your walk on the hills?" she said.
I had dined; I had rested; I was quite ready to go out again, and I saidso.
Lucilla's face brightened. For some reason of her own, she had apparentlyattached a certain importance to persuading me to go out with her.
"It's only a visit to a poor rheumatic woman in the village," she said."I have got an embrocation for her; and I can't very well send it. She isold and obstinate. If I take it to her, she will believe in the remedy.If anybody else takes it, she will throw it away. I had utterly forgottenher, in the interest of our nice long talk. Shall we get ready?"
I had hardly closed the door of my bedroom when there was a knock at it.Lucilla? No; the old nurse entering on tiptoe, with a face of mystery,and a finger confidentially placed on her lips.
"I beg your pardon, ma'am," she began in a whisper. "I think you ought toknow that my young lady has a purpose in taking you out with her thisevening. She is burning with curiosity--like all the rest of us for thatmatter. She took me out, and used my eyes to see with, yesterday evening;and they have not satisfied her. She is going to try your eyes, now."
"What is Miss Lucilla so curious about?" I inquired.
"It's natural enough, poor dear," pursued the old woman, following herown train of thought, without the slightest reference to my question. "Wenone of us can find out anything about him. He usually takes his walk attwilight. You are pretty sure to meet him to-night; and you will judgefor yourself, ma'am--with an innocent young creature like MissLucilla--what it may be best to do?"
This extraordinary answer set _my_ curiosity in a flame.
"My good creature!" I said, "you forget that I am a stranger! I knownothing about it. Has this mysterious man got a name? Who is 'He'?"
As I said that, there was another knock at the door. Zillah whispered,eagerly, "Don't tell upon me, ma'am! You will see for yourself. I onlyspeak for my young lady's good." She hobbled away, and opened thedoor--and there was Lucilla, with her smart garden hat on, waiting forme.
We went out by our own door into the garden, and passing through a gatein the wall, entered the village.
After the caution which the nurse had given me, it was impossible to askany questions, except at the risk of making mischief in our littlehousehold, on the first day of my joining it. I kept my eyes wide open,and waited for events. I also committed a blunder at starting--I offeredLucilla my hand to lead her. She burst out laughing.
"My dear Madame Pratolungo! I know my way better than you do. I roam allover the neighborhood, with nothing to help me but this."
She held up a smart ivory walking-cane, with a bright silk tasselattached. With her cane in one hand, and her chemical bottle in theother--and her roguish little hat on the top of her head--she made thequaintest and prettiest picture I had seen for many a long day. "_You_shall guide _me_, my dear," I said--and took her arm. We went on down thevillage.
Nothing in the least like a mysterious figure passed us in the twilight.The few scattered laboring people, whom I had already seen, I sawagain--and that was all. Lucilla was silent--suspiciously silent as Ithought, after what Zillah had told me. She had, as I fancied, the lookof a person who was listening intently. Arrived at the cottage of therheumatic woman, she stopped and went in, while I waited outside. Theaffair of the embrocation was soon over. She was out again in aminute--and this time, she took my arm of her own accord.
"Shall we go a little farther?" she said. "It is so nice and cool at thishour of the evening."
Her object in view, whatever it might be, was evidently an object thatlay beyond the village. In the solemn, peaceful twilight we followed thelonely windings of the valley along which I had passed in the morning.When we came opposite the little solitary house, which I had alreadylearnt to know as "Browndown," I felt her hand unconsciously tighten onmy arm. "Aha!" I said to myself. "Has Browndown anything to do withthis?"
"Does the view look very lonely to-night?" she asked, waving her caneover the scene before us.
The true meaning of that question I took to be, "Do you see anybodywalking out to-night?" It was not my business to interpret her meaning,before she had thought fit to confide her secret to me. "To my mind, mydear," was all I said, "it is a very beautiful view."
She fell silent again, and absorbed herself in her own thoughts. Weturned into a new winding of the valley--and there, walking towards usfrom the opposite direction, was a human figure at last--the figure of asolitary man!
As we got nearer to each other I perceived that he was a gentleman;dressed in a light shooting-jacket, and wearing a felt hat of the conicalItalian shape. A little nearer--and I saw that he was young. Nearerstill--and I discovered that he was handsome, though in rather aneffeminate way. At the same moment, Lucilla heard his footstep. Her colorinstantly rose; and once again I felt her hand tighten involuntarilyround my arm. (Good! Here was the mysterious object of Zillah's warningto me found at last!)
I have, and I don't mind acknowledging it, an eye for a handsome man. Ilooked at him as he passed us. Now I solemnly assure you, I am not anugly woman. Nevertheless, as our eyes met, I saw the strange gentleman'sface suddenly contract, with an expression which told me plainly that Ihad produced a disagreeable impression on him. With some difficulty--formy companion was holding my arm, and seemed to be disposed to stopaltogether--I quickened my pace so as to get by him rapidly; showing him,I dare say, that I thought the change in his face when I looked at him,an impertinence on his part. However that may be, after a momentaryinterval, I heard his step behind. The man had turned, and had followedus.
He came close to me, on the opposite side to Lucilla, and took off hishat.
"I beg your pardon, ma'am," he said. "You looked at me just now."
At the first sound of his voice, I felt Lucilla start. Her hand began totremble on my arm with some sudden agitation, inconceivable to me. In thedouble surprise of discovering this, and of finding myself charged soabruptly with the offense of looking at a gentleman, I suffered the mostexceptional of all losses (where a woman is concerned)--the loss of mytongue.
He gave me no time to recover myself. He proceeded with what he had tosay--speaking, mind, in the tone of a perfectly well-bred man; withnothing wild in his look, and nothing odd in his manner.
"Excuse me, if I venture on asking you a very strange question," he wenton. "Did you happen to be at Exeter, on the third of last month?"
(I must have been more or less than woman, if I had not recovered the useof my tongue now!)
"I never was at Exeter in my life, sir," I answered. "May I ask, on myside, why you put the question to me?"
Instead of replying, he looked at Lucilla.
"Pardon me, once more. Perhaps this young lady----?"
He was plainly on the point of inquiring next, whether Lucilla had beenat Exeter--when he checked himself. In the breathless interest which shefelt in what was going on, she had turned her full face upon him. Therewas still light enough left for her eyes to tell their own sad story, intheir own mute way. As he read the truth in them, the man's face change
dfrom the keen look of scrutiny which it had worn thus far, to anexpression of compassion--I had almost said, of distress. He again tookoff his hat, and bowed to me with the deepest respect.
"I beg your pardon," he said, very earnestly. "I beg the young lady'spardon. Pray forgive me. My strange behavior has its excuse--if I couldbring myself to explain it. You distressed me, when you looked at me. Ican't explain why. Good evening."
He turned away hastily, like a man confused and ashamed of himself--andleft us. I can only repeat that there was nothing strange or flighty inhis manner. A perfect gentleman, in full possession of his senses--thereis the unexaggerated and the just description of him.
I looked at Lucilla. She was standing, with her blind face raised to thesky, lost in herself, like a person wrapped in ecstasy.
"Who is that man?" I asked.
My question brought her down suddenly from heaven to earth. "Oh!" shesaid reproachfully, "I had his voice still in my ears--and now I havelost it! 'Who is he?'" she added, after a moment; repeating my question."Nobody knows. Tell me--what is he like. Is he beautiful? He _must_ bebeautiful, with that voice!"
"Is this the first time you have heard his voice?" I inquired.
"Yes. He passed us yesterday, when I was out with Zillah. But he neverspoke. What is he like? Do, pray tell me--what is he like?"
There was a passionate impatience in her tone which warned me not totrifle with her. The darkness was coming. I thought it wise to proposereturning to the house. She consented to do anything I liked, as long asI consented, on my side, to describe the unknown man.
All the way back, I was questioned and cross-questioned till I felt likea witness under skillful examination in a court of law. Lucilla appearedto be satisfied, so far, with the results. "Ah!" she exclaimed, lettingout the secret which her old nurse had confided to me. "_You_ can useyour eyes. Zillah could tell me nothing."
When we got home again, her curiosity took another turn. "Exeter?" shesaid, considering with herself. "He mentioned Exeter. I am like you--Inever was there. What will books tell us about Exeter?" She despatchedZillah to the other side of the house for a gazetteer. I followed the oldwoman into the corridor, and set her mind at ease, in a whisper. "I havekept what you told me a secret," I said. "The man was out in thetwilight, as you foresaw. I have spoken to him; and I am quite as curiousas the rest of you. Get the book."
Lucilla had (to confess the truth) infected me with her idea, that thegazetteer might help us in interpreting the stranger's remarkablequestion relating to the third of last month, and his extraordinaryassertion that I had distressed him when I looked at him. With the nursebreathless on one side of me, and Lucilla breathless on the other, Iopened the book at the letter "E," and found the place, and read aloudthese lines, as follows:--
"EXETER: A city and seaport in Devonshire. Formerly the seat of the WestSaxon Kings. It has a large foreign and home commerce. Population 33,738.The Assizes for Devonshire are held at Exeter in the spring and summer."
"Is that all?" asked Lucilla.
I shut the book, and answered, like Finch's boy, in three monosyllabicwords:
"That is all."