_Strange morning doings.--Dr. Rowel returns to view the ruins of his
house.--The mysterious chest, and what was in it._
Notwithstanding the personal violence which, it was to be feared, Doctor
Rowel might receive by making his appearance upon the scene of his
former crimes, he no sooner was informed of the total destruction of his
establishment, and of nearly all the property it contained, as related
in the preceding chapter, than he grew half frantic, and immediately
declared his resolution to visit the place, be the consequences of his
temerity what they might.
Accordingly, in a state of excitement bordering closely on absolute
derangement, he set off from York on the following morning, in as
private and unobserved a manner as possible. The alertness, however, of
the public eye was too great to suffer him wholly to escape; and as he
was driven at a rapid pace through the streets of the city, the scornful
hisses and execrations of many of the people trebly increased his
excitement, by making him feel that most bitter of all feelings in its
bitterest form--that he had become despicable and odious in the eyes of
his fellow men, and henceforward could no longer hope to dwell amongst
them, save as one liable to be continually pointed at, to be shunned,
perhaps plainly and openly insulted, without any living creature looking
upon him as worthy of receiving pity.
On arriving at his late residence, he beheld only a black ruin in the
midst of desolation, with but one solitary object near it which had
survived the general destruction--and that was the old yew-tree under
which James Woodruff had passed so many weary years, and which now
brought back to the Doctor's eye, suddenly and completely, as might the
drawing up of a curtain, a perfect picture of all the past that had led
to this sad scene. The tree used to look black before, but now amidst
greater blackness and the smoke and ruin of the place it grew in, it
looked green; gaily green in the sunshine, as though even it rejoiced
and felt glad over the wild justice that had overtaken one guilty of so
many crimes as was he who once oppressed the helpless there unopposed.
He could have hewn that tree by the roots, for the thoughts it awoke
in his mind, and wished it burnt to a pillar of charcoal along with all
else that was blasted and calcined about it.
Outside was a throng of gazers, kept off partly by the rural
constabulary, and partly by some of the yeomanry of the district. These
he hated for their idle curiosity, their prying into other people's
business; and could he have had his will, would have swept the ground
clear of them at one stroke of his arm.
Standing on a rising knoll at some little distance, he recognised Squire
Lupton and James Woodruff, with his daughter Fanny, gazing over the
ruins, and watching with deep interest the progress of the workmen, who
were busily employed in recovering from the hot ruins as much of the
property on the premises as might have escaped with only partial or no
damage. At that sight--
“each passion dimm'd his face,
Thrice chang'd with pale ire, envy, and despair.”
He would have got out, but he dared not. He felt as though the people
would murder him, and cast him into the mouldering heaps of his own
house.
Unrecognised in his carriage he was secure; and having drawn up pretty
closely to the spot where the last-named little party stood, he gazed
with an intensity of look almost indescribable upon the operations going
on amongst the ruins. It was plain that some strange idea had come into
his mind; it seemed written in his very features that something might be
found there which he would have no man know: a thing for his eyes only,
and not to be seen by such men as those.
“But it was a wooden box,” thought he again, “and it must be burnt. It
could not escape--it is not likely--not possible. No, no; not possible.”
And yet, as he comforted himself thus, that possibility was still
standing on his brow as plainly as did the mark on Cain's:--the mark
that told ineffaceably before heaven and earth his guilt, and warned
every man he met to shun him.
Still the workmen worked, and he still gazed. At last they carried out
on a hand-barrow a heap of broken furniture, of partly destroyed boxes,
and pictures shrivelled like a parched scroll. Somebody standing by now
observed to his neighbour that the face of that man in the carriage was
frightful.
“'Tis it!--'t is it!” exclaimed the Doctor, fiercely, madly, with
hysteric passion, unconscious of what he said and did. At the same time
he dashed his fist with the force of a stone through the glass of the
window; and having rapidly opened the door, rushed distractedly past all
impediments up to the men in question.
This sudden apparition,--for scarcely less even in the midst of daylight
did it seem,--so completely astonished and alarmed the people that
all those along the course he took fled backwards in fear; while those
beyond the scene of action as earnestly pressed forwards to ascertain
what was amiss.
Mr. Lupton, James Woodruff, and Fanny, besides many others amongst the
crowd, almost instantly recognised the person of the Doctor; while the
first-named gentleman as instantly hastened after him in order at
once to know the cause of this wild proceeding, and to prevent, by the
interference of his magisterial authority, that mischief which else he
feared might soon ensue.
“That 's it!--it's mine--my own!” cried the Doctor, as he literally
threw himself upon a box of considerable dimensions, deeply scorched
but not burnt through, which the workmen carried. At the same time he
clasped his arms about it as though he would strain to carry it away.
The workmen interfered.
“Molest him not!” said Mr. Lupton, and they desisted.
“I swear it is mine!” again exclaimed Mr. Rowel, on hearing the voice
of the Squire, “and no man shall open it while I live. I'm innocent,
for they judged me so last night. People will destroy me, if it 's seen.
They 'll swear it is _his_ body, if they see it.”
“What body?” demanded Mr. Lupton in astonishment.
“Him!----no, no; I did not do that! Him that died. You know, you know.
Everybody over the world knows now! They shall not open it; I 'll die
first. I defy them all!” And again the insane Doctor endeavoured as
though to hide it out of sight with his arms and body.
Mr. Lupton saw in all this something more than exactly appeared upon
the surface; and accordingly, both as better for the Doctor himself, and
more consistent with his own duty in so remarkable a case, he commanded
the constabulary to seize and protect Mr. Rowel back to the carriage
from which he had come, and then to convey the mysterious box safely
down to Kiddal Hall.
In the execution of these orders, the Doctor made such a desperate
resistance, and raved so furiously and incoherently,--repeatedly
declaring he should be hanged to-morrow,--that they wanted to murder
him,--that the body was not distinguishable,--and that he was haunted
by a horrible spectre,--as pretty clearly evinced that his mind had
overshot the firm ground of reason, and had fallen into that same
fearful abyss of insanity from which it had been his profession to
rescue others; and on the plea of his having fallen into which, he had
also so cruelly practised, during many years, upon the unfortunate James
Woodruff, his relation.
Great force _was_ required to secure and get him into the carriage; and
after that object had been successfully achieved, it was found necessary
to bind him strongly with such materials, applicable to the purpose,
as chanced to be within reach, before his conveyance in such a vehicle
could be considered safe. This having been done, he was, after some
delay, eventually driven off to the residence of his brother, on
Sherwood forest;--a place to which those friends who had attended him on
his trial, considered it most proper, in the present state of affairs,
to convey him.
During these transactions the excitement of the assembled multitude was
so great, that, but for the presence of the yeomanry, and the judicious
measures adopted by Mr. Lupton, it is to be feared the disorders of
the previous night would have been concluded by a yet more horrible
catastrophe, in the murder of the Doctor, in open day, upon the
memorable site of his own destroyed and now for eyer vanished
establishment at Nabbfield. This fearful consequence was, however,
happily avoided: and all danger being now passed, Mr. James Woodruff and
his daughter Fanny again joined company with Mr. Lupton, and followed,
with agitated and anxious feelings, in the wake of the great crowd that
accompanied the conveyance of the mysterious box to the Squire's own
residence.
A short time after their arrival at the Hall, the three above-named
individuals, along with one or two other persons, whom Mr. Lupton
purposely admitted as witnesses on the occasion, retired into a private
room, situate in a remote part of the building, whither the chest had
already been carried, under the care of several officers, and remained
present while a heavy lock upon it was broken, and the uplifted lid for
the first time displayed, to other eyes than those of Mr. Rowel, a sight
so horrible, that even the strongest-nerved man present recoiled with
sudden fear, while Fanny uttered a loud shriek of terror, and fell
insensible into her father's arms.
Before them, huddled up, to make it fit into its otherwise too short
habitation, lay a corpse, the body and limbs of which had undergone
dissection, while the head and face, by some process of preparation and
injection, yet remained sufficiently perfect to exhibit such a distinct
resemblance to what must have been its appearance while alive, as left
upon the minds of the spectators not the slightest doubt but that they
now assuredly looked upon the remains of the unfortunate Lawyer Skin
well!
By what motive the Doctor could possibly have been actuated in taking
the body from its grave could only be conjectured; and the most probable
conjecture made upon the occasion was, that he had done so in order so
far to destroy all traces of the poison which had been administered to
him, as to render any subsequent investigation--presuming such should
chance to be made--wholly useless for any purpose of crimination.
But why, having done this, he should still preserve so horrible
an object,--and to him, it might be presumed, one so particularly
horrible,--few seemed willing to attempt to divine. Perhaps, what
Shakespeare has said of sorrow, we may best, in this instance, say of
conscious guilt:--
“'T was one of those odd things _crime_ often shoots
Out of the mind.”
Whatever the cause, however, the fact itself was there most plainly
proved; since the remains in the box were subsequently identified, not
only by Fanny Woodruff and Mr. Sylvester, the deceased's former clerk,
but also by many persons in the village, who had known him intimately
when alive.
As no object could now be attained by keeping the body, it was, some
time afterwards, placed in its old coffin and re-interred, amidst the
marvellings and the pity of numerous rustic spectators.
Another most remarkable circumstance, however, remains to be recorded,
in connection with this event, before I conclude this chapter; as it may
also serve, with the above, in some degree, to illustrate Doctor Rowel's
strange conduct and exclamations touching the chest, in the scene
recently described.
Placed immediately beneath the head of the corpse, and forming, in fact,
a rest for it, was found a much smaller, though far more antique and
curiously ornamented box than the one already described; and which,
eventually, proved to be the identical one wherein the title-deeds
of the estate of the Woodruffs of Charnwood had been kept during
many generations. On being opened, it was found still to contain them
precisely in the same state in which Mr. Rowel had so many years ago
possessed himself of them, after securing the person of their legitimate
owner. The effects of Mr. Skinwell's conduct in resisting the Doctor's
solicitations to co-operate dishonestly with him in altering or
destroying those writings, (as previously recorded,) now became
apparent; and deep, indeed, was the regret of all, that through such
conduct he had, in all human probability, come to such a frightful end.
Mr. Woodruff having then taken them again into his own custody, all
matters connected with the affair were settled in the best manner
circumstances would allow; and after a brief interval from the period
now spoken of, he and his daughter set out on their first journey, again
to behold and to take possession of their hereditary home.
On their arrival, however, they found it inhabited, under rent of Doctor
Rowel, by tenants whom the reader will feel no less surprised than was
Fanny to find there.