CHAPTER XXXIII.
Marlow could not be hard-hearted with a woman, and he felt for theterrible state of agitation and alarm, to which John Ayliffe's motherwas reduced.
"We must be gentle with her," he said in French to the Commissary ofPolice, who was with him, and whom we have hitherto called the man inblack.
"_Oui, monsieur_," replied the other, taking a pinch of snuff, andperfectly indifferent whether he was gentle or not,--for theCommissary had the honor, as he termed it, of assisting at thebreaking of several gentlemen on the wheel, to say nothing of sundrydecapitations, hangings, and the question, ordinary and extraordinary,all of which have a certain tendency, when witnessed often, slightlyto harden the human heart, so that he was not tender.
Marlow was approaching to speak to the unfortunate woman, whenremoving her hands from her eyes, she looked wildly round, exclaiming,"Oh! have you come to take me, have you come to take me?"
"That must depend upon circumstances, madam," replied Marlow, in aquiet tone. "I have obtained sufficient proofs of the conspiracy inwhich your son has been engaged with yourself and Mr. Shanks, theattorney, to justify me in applying to the Government of his mostChristian Majesty for your apprehension and removal to England. But Iam unwilling to deal at all harshly with you, if it can be avoided."
"Oh! pray don't, pray don't!" she exclaimed vehemently; "my son willkill me, I do believe, if he knew that you had found me out; for hehas told me, and written to me so often to hide myself carefully, thathe would think it was my fault."
"It is his own fault in ordering your letters to him to be sent to theSilver Cross at Hartwell," replied Marlow. "Every body in the houseknew the handwriting, and became aware that you were not dead, as hadbeen pretended. But your son will soon be in a situation to killnobody; for the very fact of your being found here, with the othercircumstances we know, is sufficient to convict him of perjury."
"Then he'll lose the property and the title, and not be Sir John anymore," said the unhappy woman.
"Beyond all doubt," replied Marlow. "But to return to the matterbefore us; my conduct with regard to yourself must be regulatedentirely by what you yourself do. If you furnish me with full andcomplete information in regard to this nefarious business, in which Iam afraid you have been a participator, as well as a victim, I willconsent to your remaining where you are, under the superintendence ofthe police, of which this gentleman is a Commissary."
"O, I have been a victim, indeed," answered Mrs. Ayliffe, weeping. "Ideclare I have not had a moment's peace, or a morsel fit to eat sinceI have been in this outlandish country, and I can hardly get any body,not even a servant girl, who understands a word of English, to speakto."
Marlow thought that he saw an inclination to evade the point of hisquestions, in order to gain time for consideration, and the Commissarythought so too: though both of them were, I believe, mistaken; forcollaterality, if I may use such a word, was a habit of the poorwoman's mind.
The Commissary interrupted her somewhat sharply in her catalogue ofthe miseries of France, by saying, "I will beg you to give me yourkeys, madame, for we must have a visitation of your papers."
"My keys, my keys!" she said, putting her hands in the large pocketsthen worn. "I am sure I do not know what I have done with them, orwhere they are."
"O, we will soon find keys that will open any thing," replied theCommissary. "There are plenty of hammers in St. Germain."
"Stay, stay a moment," said Marlow; "I think Mrs. Ayliffe will save usthe trouble of taking any harsh steps."
"O yes, don't; I will do any thing you please," she said, earnestly.
"Well then, madame," said Marlow, "will you have the goodness to stateto this gentleman, who will take down your words, and afterwardsauthenticate the statement, what is your real name, and your ordinaryplace of residence in England?"
She hesitated, and he added more sternly, "You may answer or not, asyou like, madame; we have proof by the evidence of Mr. Atkinson here,who has known you so many years, that you are living now in France,when your son made affidavit that you were dead. That is the principalpoint; but at the same time I warn you, that if you do not franklystate the truth in every particular, I must demand that you be removedto England."
"I will indeed," she said, "I will indeed;" and raising her eyes tothe face of the Commissary, of whom she seemed to stand in greatdread, she stated truly her name and place of abode, adding, "I wouldnot, indeed I would not have taken a false name, or come here at all,if my son had not told me that it was the only way for him to get theestate, and promised that I should come back directly he had got it.But now, he says I must remain here forever, and hide myself;" and shewept bitterly.
In the mean while, the Commissary continued to write actively, puttingdown all she said. She seemed to perceive that she was committingherself, but, as is very common in such cases, she only rendered thedifficulties worse, adding, in a low tone, "After all, the estateought to have been his by right."
"If you think so, madame," replied Marlow, "you had better return toEngland, and prove it; but I can hardly imagine that your son and hissharp lawyer would have had recourse to fraud and perjury in order tokeep you concealed, if they judged that he had any right at all."
"Ay, he might have a right in the eyes of God," replied the unhappywoman, "not in the eyes of the law. We were as much married beforeheaven as any two people could be, though we might not be marriedbefore men."
"That is to say, you and your husband," said the Commissary in aninsinuating tone.
"I and Mr. John Hastings, old Sir John's son," she answered; and theCommissary drawing Marlow for a moment aside, conversed with him in awhisper.
What they said she could not hear, and could not have understood hadshe heard, for they spoke in French; but she grew alarmed as they wenton, evidently speaking about her, and turning their eyes towards herfrom time to time. She thought they meditated at least sending her incustody to England, and perhaps much worse. Tales of bastiles, anddungeons, and wringing confessions from unwilling prisoners by allsorts of tortures, presented themselves to her imagination, and beforethey had concluded, she exclaimed in a tone of entreaty, "I will tellall, indeed I will tell all, if you will not send me any where."
"The Commissary thinks, madame," said Marlow, "that the first thing weought to do is to examine your papers, and then to question you fromthe evidence they afford. The keys must, therefore, be found, or thelocks must be broken open."
"Perhaps they may be in that drawer," said Mrs. Ayliffe, pointingacross to an escrutoire; and there they were accordingly found. Nogreat search for papers was necessary; for the house was but scantilyfurnished, and the escrutoire itself contained a packet of six orseven letters from John Ayliffe to his mother, with two from Mr.Shanks, each of them ending with the words "_read and burn_;" aninjunction which she had religiously failed to comply with. Theseletters formed a complete series from the time of her quitting Englandup to that day. They gave her information of the progress of the suitagainst Sir Philip Hastings, and of its successful termination by hiswithdrawing from the defence. The first letters held out to her, everyday, the hope of a speedy return to England. The later ones mentionedlong fictitious consultations with lawyers in regard to her return,and stated that it was found absolutely necessary that she shouldremain abroad under an assumed name. The last letter, however,evidently in answer to one of remonstrance and entreaty from her, wasthe most important in Marlow's eyes. It was very peremptory in itstone, asked if she wanted to ruin and destroy her son, and threatenedall manner of terrible things if she suffered her retreat to bediscovered. As some compensation, however, for her disappointment,John Ayliffe promised to come and see her speedily, and secure her asplendid income, which would enable her to keep carriages and horses,and "live like a princess." He excused his not having done so earlier,on the ground that his friend Mrs. Hazleton had advanced him a verylarge sum of money to carry on the suit, which he was obliged to payimmediately. The letter ended with these
words, "She is as bitteragainst all the Hastings' as ever; and nothing will satisfy her tillshe has seen the last of them all, especially that saucy girl; but sheis cute after her money, and will be paid. As for my part, I don'tcare what she does to Mistress Emily; for I now hate her as much as Ionce liked her,--but you will see something there, I think, beforelong."
"In the name of Heaven," exclaimed Marlow, as he read that letter,"what can have possessed the woman with so much malice towards poorEmily Hastings?"
"Why, John used always to think," said Mistress Ayliffe, with a weaksmile coming upon her face in the midst of her distress, "that it wasbecause Madame Hazleton wanted to marry a man about there, calledMarlow, and Mistress Emily carried him off from her."
The Commissary laughed, and held out his snuff-box to Marlow, who didnot take the snuff, but fell into a deep fit of thought, while theCommissary continued his perquisitions.
Only two more papers of importance were found, and they were of a datefar back. The one fresh, and evidently a copy of some other letter,the other yellow, and with the folds worn through in several places.The former was a copy of a letter of young John Hastings to theunfortunate girl whom he had seduced, soothing her under her distressof mind, and calling her his "dear little wife." It was with thegreatest difficulty she could be induced to part with the original, itwould seem, and had obtained a copy before she consented to do so. Thelatter was the antidote to the former. It was a letter from old SirJohn Hastings to her father, and was to the following effect:
"Sir:
"As you have thought fit distinctly to withdraw all vain andfraudulent pretences of any thing but an illicit connection betweenyour daughter and my late son, and to express penitence for theinsolent threats you used, I will not withhold due support from mychild's offspring, nor from the unfortunate girl to whom he behavedill. I therefore write this to inform you that I will allow her thesum of two hundred pounds per annum, as long as she demeans herselfwith propriety and decorum. I will also leave directions in my willfor securing to her and her son, on their joint lives, a sum of anequal amount, which may be rendered greater if her behavior for thenext few years is such as I can approve.
"I am, sir, your obedient servant,
"JOHN HASTINGS."
Marlow folded up the letter with a smile, and the Commissaryproceeded, with all due formalities, to mark and register the wholecorrespondence as found in the possession of Mrs. Ayliffe.
When this was done, what may be called the examination of that goodlady was continued, but the sight of those letters in the hands ofMarlow, and the well-satisfied smile with which he read them, hadconvinced her that all farther attempt at concealment would be vain.Terror had with her a great effect in unloosing the tongue, and, as isvery common in such cases, she flew into the extreme of loquacity,told every thing she knew, or thought, or imagined, and being, as iscommon with very weak people, of a prying and inquisitive turn, shecould furnish ample information in regard to all the schemes andcontrivances by which her son had succeeded in convincing even SirPhilip Hastings himself of his legitimacy.
Her statements involved Mr. Shanks the lawyer in the scheme of fraudas a principal, but they compromised deeply Mrs. Hazleton herself ascognizant of all that was going on, and aiding and abetting with herpersonal advice. She detailed the whole particulars of the plan whichhad been formed for bringing Emily Hastings to Mrs. Hazleton's house,and frightening her into a marriage with John Ayliffe; and she dweltparticularly on the tutoring he had received from that lady, and hisfrantic rage when the scheme was frustrated. The transactions betweenhim and the unhappy man Tom Cutter she knew only in part; but sheadmitted that her eon had laughed triumphantly at the thought of howSir Philip would be galled when he was made to believe that hisbeloved Emily had been to visit her young reprobate son at the cottagenear the park, and that, too, at a time when he had been actuallyengaged in poaching.
All, in fact, came forth with the greatest readiness, and indeed muchmore was told than any questions tended to elicit. She seemed indeedto have now lost all desire for concealment, and to found her hopesand expectations on the freest discovery. Her only dread, apparently,being that she might be taken to England, and confronted with her son.On this point she dwelt much, and Marlow consented that she shouldremain in France, under the supervision of the police, for a time atleast, though he would not promise her, notwithstanding all herentreaties, that she should never be sent for. He endeavored, however,to obviate the necessity of so doing, by taking every formal step thatcould be devised to render the evidence he had obtained available in acourt of law, as documentary testimony. A magistrate was sent for, herstatements were read over to her in his presence by the commissary ofpolice, and though it cannot be asserted that either the style or theorthography of the worthy commissary were peculiarly English, yet Mrs.Ayliffe signed them, and swore to them in good set form, and in thepresence of four witnesses.
To Marlow, the scene was a very painful one; for he had a naturalrepugnance to seeing the weakness and degradation of human nature sopainfully exhibited by any fellow-creature, and he left her withfeelings of pity, but still stronger feelings of contempt.
All such sensations, however, vanished when he reached the inn again,and he found himself in possession of evidence which would clear hisbeloved Emily of the suspicions which had been instilled into herfather's mind, and which he doubted not in the least would effect therestoration of Sir Philip Hastings to his former opulence and to hisstation in society.
The mind of man has a sun in its own sky, which pours forth itssunshine, or is hidden by clouds, irrespective of the atmospherearound. In fact we always see external objects through stained glass,and the hues imparted are in our windows, not in the objectsthemselves. It is wonderful how different the aspect of every thingwas to the eyes of Marlow as he returned towards Paris, from thatwhich the scene had presented as he went. All seemed sunshine andbrightness, from the happiness of his own heart. The gloomy images,which, as I have shown, had haunted him on his way from his own houseto Hartwell--the doubts, if they can be so called--the questionings ofthe unsatisfied heart in regard the ways of Providence--the cloudydreads which almost all men must have felt as to the real, constant,minute superintendence of a Supreme Power being but a sweet vision,the child of hope and veneration, were all dispelled. I do not mean tosay that they were dissipated by reason or by thought, for his was astrong mind, and reason and thought with him were always on the sideof faith; but those clouds and mists were suddenly scattered by thesuccess which he had obtained, and the cheering expectation whichmight be now well founded upon that success. Is was not enough for himthat he knew, and understood, and appreciated to the full the beautyand excellence of his Emily's character. He could not be contentedunless every one connected with her understood and appreciated italso. He cared little what the world thought of himself, but he wouldhave every one think well of her, and the deepest pang he had perhapsever felt in life had been experienced when he first found that SirPhilip Hastings doubted and suspected his own child. Now, all must beclear--all must be bright. The base and the fraudulent will bepunished and exposed, the noble and the good honored and justified. Itwas his doing; and as he alighted from the carriage, and mounted thestairs of the hotel in Paris, his step was as triumphant as if he hadwon a great victory.
Fate will water our wine, however--I suppose lest we should becomeintoxicated with the delicious draught of joy. Marlow longed and hopedto fly back to England with the tidings without delay, but certainformalities had to be gone through, official seals and signaturesaffixed to the papers he had obtained, in order to leave no doubt oftheir authenticity. Cold men of office could not be brought tocomprehend or sympathize with, his impetuous eagerness, and five wholedays elapsed before he was able to quit the French capital.