CHAPTER VII--MORE CONFIDENCES THAN ONE
'I know very little of that gentleman, sir,' said Neville to the MinorCanon as they turned back.
'You know very little of your guardian?' the Minor Canon repeated.
'Almost nothing!'
'How came he--'
'To _be_ my guardian? I'll tell you, sir. I suppose you know that wecome (my sister and I) from Ceylon?'
'Indeed, no.'
'I wonder at that. We lived with a stepfather there. Our mother diedthere, when we were little children. We have had a wretched existence.She made him our guardian, and he was a miserly wretch who grudged usfood to eat, and clothes to wear. At his death, he passed us over tothis man; for no better reason that I know of, than his being a friend orconnexion of his, whose name was always in print and catching hisattention.'
'That was lately, I suppose?'
'Quite lately, sir. This stepfather of ours was a cruel brute as well asa grinding one. It is well he died when he did, or I might have killedhim.'
Mr. Crisparkle stopped short in the moonlight and looked at his hopefulpupil in consternation.
'I surprise you, sir?' he said, with a quick change to a submissivemanner.
'You shock me; unspeakably shock me.'
The pupil hung his head for a little while, as they walked on, and thensaid: 'You never saw him beat your sister. I have seen him beat mine,more than once or twice, and I never forgot it.'
'Nothing,' said Mr. Crisparkle, 'not even a beloved and beautifulsister's tears under dastardly ill-usage;' he became less severe, inspite of himself, as his indignation rose; 'could justify those horribleexpressions that you used.'
'I am sorry I used them, and especially to you, sir. I beg to recallthem. But permit me to set you right on one point. You spoke of mysister's tears. My sister would have let him tear her to pieces, beforeshe would have let him believe that he could make her shed a tear.'
Mr. Crisparkle reviewed those mental notes of his, and was neither at allsurprised to hear it, nor at all disposed to question it.
'Perhaps you will think it strange, sir,'--this was said in a hesitatingvoice--'that I should so soon ask you to allow me to confide in you, andto have the kindness to hear a word or two from me in my defence?'
'Defence?' Mr. Crisparkle repeated. 'You are not on your defence, Mr.Neville.'
'I think I am, sir. At least I know I should be, if you were betteracquainted with my character.'
'Well, Mr. Neville,' was the rejoinder. 'What if you leave me to find itout?'
'Since it is your pleasure, sir,' answered the young man, with a quickchange in his manner to sullen disappointment: 'since it is your pleasureto check me in my impulse, I must submit.'
There was that in the tone of this short speech which made theconscientious man to whom it was addressed uneasy. It hinted to him thathe might, without meaning it, turn aside a trustfulness beneficial to amis-shapen young mind and perhaps to his own power of directing andimproving it. They were within sight of the lights in his windows, andhe stopped.
'Let us turn back and take a turn or two up and down, Mr. Neville, or youmay not have time to finish what you wish to say to me. You are hasty inthinking that I mean to check you. Quite the contrary. I invite yourconfidence.'
'You have invited it, sir, without knowing it, ever since I came here. Isay "ever since," as if I had been here a week. The truth is, we camehere (my sister and I) to quarrel with you, and affront you, and breakaway again.'
'Really?' said Mr. Crisparkle, at a dead loss for anything else to say.
'You see, we could not know what you were beforehand, sir; could we?'
'Clearly not,' said Mr. Crisparkle.
'And having liked no one else with whom we have ever been brought intocontact, we had made up our minds not to like you.'
'Really?' said Mr. Crisparkle again.
'But we do like you, sir, and we see an unmistakable difference betweenyour house and your reception of us, and anything else we have everknown. This--and my happening to be alone with you--and everythingaround us seeming so quiet and peaceful after Mr. Honeythunder'sdeparture--and Cloisterham being so old and grave and beautiful, with themoon shining on it--these things inclined me to open my heart.'
'I quite understand, Mr. Neville. And it is salutary to listen to suchinfluences.'
'In describing my own imperfections, sir, I must ask you not to supposethat I am describing my sister's. She has come out of the disadvantagesof our miserable life, as much better than I am, as that Cathedral toweris higher than those chimneys.'
Mr. Crisparkle in his own breast was not so sure of this.
'I have had, sir, from my earliest remembrance, to suppress a deadly andbitter hatred. This has made me secret and revengeful. I have beenalways tyrannically held down by the strong hand. This has driven me, inmy weakness, to the resource of being false and mean. I have beenstinted of education, liberty, money, dress, the very necessaries oflife, the commonest pleasures of childhood, the commonest possessions ofyouth. This has caused me to be utterly wanting in I don't know whatemotions, or remembrances, or good instincts--I have not even a name forthe thing, you see!--that you have had to work upon in other young men towhom you have been accustomed.'
'This is evidently true. But this is not encouraging,' thought Mr.Crisparkle as they turned again.
'And to finish with, sir: I have been brought up among abject and serviledependents, of an inferior race, and I may easily have contracted someaffinity with them. Sometimes, I don't know but that it may be a drop ofwhat is tigerish in their blood.'
'As in the case of that remark just now,' thought Mr. Crisparkle.
'In a last word of reference to my sister, sir (we are twin children),you ought to know, to her honour, that nothing in our misery ever subduedher, though it often cowed me. When we ran away from it (we ran awayfour times in six years, to be soon brought back and cruelly punished),the flight was always of her planning and leading. Each time she dressedas a boy, and showed the daring of a man. I take it we were seven yearsold when we first decamped; but I remember, when I lost the pocket-knifewith which she was to have cut her hair short, how desperately she triedto tear it out, or bite it off. I have nothing further to say, sir,except that I hope you will bear with me and make allowance for me.'
'Of that, Mr. Neville, you may be sure,' returned the Minor Canon. 'Idon't preach more than I can help, and I will not repay your confidencewith a sermon. But I entreat you to bear in mind, very seriously andsteadily, that if I am to do you any good, it can only be with your ownassistance; and that you can only render that, efficiently, by seekingaid from Heaven.'
'I will try to do my part, sir.'
'And, Mr. Neville, I will try to do mine. Here is my hand on it. MayGod bless our endeavours!'
They were now standing at his house-door, and a cheerful sound of voicesand laughter was heard within.
'We will take one more turn before going in,' said Mr. Crisparkle, 'for Iwant to ask you a question. When you said you were in a changed mindconcerning me, you spoke, not only for yourself, but for your sistertoo?'
'Undoubtedly I did, sir.'
'Excuse me, Mr. Neville, but I think you have had no opportunity ofcommunicating with your sister, since I met you. Mr. Honeythunder wasvery eloquent; but perhaps I may venture to say, without ill-nature, thathe rather monopolised the occasion. May you not have answered for yoursister without sufficient warrant?'
Neville shook his head with a proud smile.
'You don't know, sir, yet, what a complete understanding can existbetween my sister and me, though no spoken word--perhaps hardly as muchas a look--may have passed between us. She not only feels as I havedescribed, but she very well knows that I am taking this opportunity ofspeaking to you, both for her and for myself.'
Mr. Crisparkle looked in his face, with some incredulity; but his faceexpressed such absolute and firm conviction of the truth of what he said,that
Mr. Crisparkle looked at the pavement, and mused, until they came tohis door again.
'I will ask for one more turn, sir, this time,' said the young man, witha rather heightened colour rising in his face. 'But for Mr.Honeythunder's--I think you called it eloquence, sir?' (somewhat slyly.)
'I--yes, I called it eloquence,' said Mr. Crisparkle.
'But for Mr. Honeythunder's eloquence, I might have had no need to askyou what I am going to ask you. This Mr. Edwin Drood, sir: I thinkthat's the name?'
'Quite correct,' said Mr. Crisparkle. 'D-r-double o-d.'
'Does he--or did he--read with you, sir?'
'Never, Mr. Neville. He comes here visiting his relation, Mr. Jasper.'
'Is Miss Bud his relation too, sir?'
('Now, why should he ask that, with sudden superciliousness?' thought Mr.Crisparkle.) Then he explained, aloud, what he knew of the little storyof their betrothal.
'O! _that's_ it, is it?' said the young man. 'I understand his air ofproprietorship now!'
This was said so evidently to himself, or to anybody rather than Mr.Crisparkle, that the latter instinctively felt as if to notice it wouldbe almost tantamount to noticing a passage in a letter which he had readby chance over the writer's shoulder. A moment afterwards theyre-entered the house.
Mr. Jasper was seated at the piano as they came into his drawing-room,and was accompanying Miss Rosebud while she sang. It was a consequenceof his playing the accompaniment without notes, and of her being aheedless little creature, very apt to go wrong, that he followed her lipsmost attentively, with his eyes as well as hands; carefully and softlyhinting the key-note from time to time. Standing with an arm drawn roundher, but with a face far more intent on Mr. Jasper than on her singing,stood Helena, between whom and her brother an instantaneous recognitionpassed, in which Mr. Crisparkle saw, or thought he saw, the understandingthat had been spoken of, flash out. Mr. Neville then took his admiringstation, leaning against the piano, opposite the singer; Mr. Crisparklesat down by the china shepherdess; Edwin Drood gallantly furled andunfurled Miss Twinkleton's fan; and that lady passively claimed that sortof exhibitor's proprietorship in the accomplishment on view, which Mr.Tope, the Verger, daily claimed in the Cathedral service.
[Picture: At the piano]
The song went on. It was a sorrowful strain of parting, and the freshyoung voice was very plaintive and tender. As Jasper watched the prettylips, and ever and again hinted the one note, as though it were a lowwhisper from himself, the voice became less steady, until all at once thesinger broke into a burst of tears, and shrieked out, with her hands overher eyes: 'I can't bear this! I am frightened! Take me away!'
With one swift turn of her lithe figures Helena laid the little beauty ona sofa, as if she had never caught her up. Then, on one knee beside her,and with one hand upon her rosy mouth, while with the other she appealedto all the rest, Helena said to them: 'It's nothing; it's all over; don'tspeak to her for one minute, and she is well!'
Jasper's hands had, in the same instant, lifted themselves from the keys,and were now poised above them, as though he waited to resume. In thatattitude he yet sat quiet: not even looking round, when all the rest hadchanged their places and were reassuring one another.
'Pussy's not used to an audience; that's the fact,' said Edwin Drood.'She got nervous, and couldn't hold out. Besides, Jack, you are such aconscientious master, and require so much, that I believe you make herafraid of you. No wonder.'
'No wonder,' repeated Helena.
'There, Jack, you hear! You would be afraid of him, under similarcircumstances, wouldn't you, Miss Landless?'
'Not under any circumstances,' returned Helena.
Jasper brought down his hands, looked over his shoulder, and begged tothank Miss Landless for her vindication of his character. Then he fellto dumbly playing, without striking the notes, while his little pupil wastaken to an open window for air, and was otherwise petted and restored.When she was brought back, his place was empty. 'Jack's gone, Pussy,'Edwin told her. 'I am more than half afraid he didn't like to be chargedwith being the Monster who had frightened you.' But she answered never aword, and shivered, as if they had made her a little too cold.
Miss Twinkleton now opining that indeed these were late hours, Mrs.Crisparkle, for finding ourselves outside the walls of the Nuns' House,and that we who undertook the formation of the future wives and mothersof England (the last words in a lower voice, as requiring to becommunicated in confidence) were really bound (voice coming up again) toset a better example than one of rakish habits, wrappers were put inrequisition, and the two young cavaliers volunteered to see the ladieshome. It was soon done, and the gate of the Nuns' House closed uponthem.
The boarders had retired, and only Mrs. Tisher in solitary vigil awaitedthe new pupil. Her bedroom being within Rosa's, very little introductionor explanation was necessary, before she was placed in charge of her newfriend, and left for the night.
'This is a blessed relief, my dear,' said Helena. 'I have been dreadingall day, that I should be brought to bay at this time.'
'There are not many of us,' returned Rosa, 'and we are good-naturedgirls; at least the others are; I can answer for them.'
'I can answer for you,' laughed Helena, searching the lovely little facewith her dark, fiery eyes, and tenderly caressing the small figure. 'Youwill be a friend to me, won't you?'
'I hope so. But the idea of my being a friend to you seems too absurd,though.'
'Why?'
'O, I am such a mite of a thing, and you are so womanly and handsome.You seem to have resolution and power enough to crush me. I shrink intonothing by the side of your presence even.'
'I am a neglected creature, my dear, unacquainted with allaccomplishments, sensitively conscious that I have everything to learn,and deeply ashamed to own my ignorance.'
'And yet you acknowledge everything to me!' said Rosa.
'My pretty one, can I help it? There is a fascination in you.'
'O! is there though?' pouted Rosa, half in jest and half in earnest.'What a pity Master Eddy doesn't feel it more!'
Of course her relations towards that young gentleman had been alreadyimparted in Minor Canon Corner.
'Why, surely he must love you with all his heart!' cried Helena, with anearnestness that threatened to blaze into ferocity if he didn't.
'Eh? O, well, I suppose he does,' said Rosa, pouting again; 'I am sure Ihave no right to say he doesn't. Perhaps it's my fault. Perhaps I amnot as nice to him as I ought to be. I don't think I am. But it _is_ soridiculous!'
Helena's eyes demanded what was.
'_We_ are,' said Rosa, answering as if she had spoken. 'We are such aridiculous couple. And we are always quarrelling.'
'Why?'
'Because we both know we are ridiculous, my dear!' Rosa gave that answeras if it were the most conclusive answer in the world.
Helena's masterful look was intent upon her face for a few moments, andthen she impulsively put out both her hands and said:
'You will be my friend and help me?'
'Indeed, my dear, I will,' replied Rosa, in a tone of affectionatechildishness that went straight and true to her heart; 'I will be as gooda friend as such a mite of a thing can be to such a noble creature asyou. And be a friend to me, please; I don't understand myself: and Iwant a friend who can understand me, very much indeed.'
Helena Landless kissed her, and retaining both her hands said:
'Who is Mr. Jasper?'
Rosa turned aside her head in answering: 'Eddy's uncle, and mymusic-master.'
'You do not love him?'
'Ugh!' She put her hands up to her face, and shook with fear or horror.
'You know that he loves you?'
'O, don't, don't, don't!' cried Rosa, dropping on her knees, and clingingto her new resource. 'Don't tell me of it! He terrifies me. He hauntsmy thoughts, like a dreadful ghost. I feel that I am never safe fromhim. I feel as if he coul
d pass in through the wall when he is spokenof.' She actually did look round, as if she dreaded to see him standingin the shadow behind her.
'Try to tell me more about it, darling.'
'Yes, I will, I will. Because you are so strong. But hold me the while,and stay with me afterwards.'
'My child! You speak as if he had threatened you in some dark way.'
'He has never spoken to me about--that. Never.'
'What has he done?'
'He has made a slave of me with his looks. He has forced me tounderstand him, without his saying a word; and he has forced me to keepsilence, without his uttering a threat. When I play, he never moves hiseyes from my hands. When I sing, he never moves his eyes from my lips.When he corrects me, and strikes a note, or a chord, or plays a passage,he himself is in the sounds, whispering that he pursues me as a lover,and commanding me to keep his secret. I avoid his eyes, but he forces meto see them without looking at them. Even when a glaze comes over them(which is sometimes the case), and he seems to wander away into afrightful sort of dream in which he threatens most, he obliges me to knowit, and to know that he is sitting close at my side, more terrible to methan ever.'
'What is this imagined threatening, pretty one? What is threatened?'
'I don't know. I have never even dared to think or wonder what it is.'
'And was this all, to-night?'
'This was all; except that to-night when he watched my lips so closely asI was singing, besides feeling terrified I felt ashamed and passionatelyhurt. It was as if he kissed me, and I couldn't bear it, but cried out.You must never breathe this to any one. Eddy is devoted to him. But yousaid to-night that you would not be afraid of him, under anycircumstances, and that gives me--who am so much afraid of him--courageto tell only you. Hold me! Stay with me! I am too frightened to beleft by myself.'
The lustrous gipsy-face drooped over the clinging arms and bosom, and thewild black hair fell down protectingly over the childish form. There wasa slumbering gleam of fire in the intense dark eyes, though they werethen softened with compassion and admiration. Let whomsoever it mostconcerned look well to it!