satisfactory to hear); but I waved him off. I couldn't give it up. It
fascinated me. I toyed with it, I caressed it. I made it display its
different tones of colour. I must see the two stones together. I must
see it outshine its paltry rival. It was a whimsical frenzy that seized
me--I can call it by no other name.
"Would you like to see the original? Curiously enough, I have it here.
The bishop has left it in my charge."
The wolfish light flamed up in Carwitchet's eyes as I drew forth the
case. He laid the Valdez down on a sheet of paper, and I placed the
other, still in its case, beside it. In that moment they looked
identical, except for the little loop of sham stones, replaced by a
plain gold band in the bishop's jewel. Carwitchet leaned across the
table eagerly, the table gave a lurch, the lamp tottered, crashed over,
and we were left in semidarkness.
"Don't stir!" Carwitchet shouted. "The paraffin is all over the place!"
He seized my sofa blanket, and flung it over the table while I stood
helpless. "There, that's safe now. Have you candles on the
chimney-piece? I've got matches."
He looked very white and excited as he lit up. "Might have been an
awkward job with all that burning paraffin running about," he said quite
pleasantly. "I hope no real harm is done." I was lifting the rug with
shaking hands. The two stones lay as I had placed them. No! I nearly
dropped it back again. It was the stone in the case that had the loop
with the three sham sapphires!
Carwitchet picked the other up hastily. "So you say this is rubbish?" he
asked, his eyes sparkling wickedly, and an attempt at mortification in
his tone.
"Utter rubbish!" I pronounced, with truth and decision, snapping up the
case and pocketing it. "Lady Carwitchet must have known it."
"Ah, well, it's disappointing, isn't it? Good-by, we shall not meet
again."
I shook hands with him most cordially. "Good-by, Lord Carwitchet. _So_
glad to have met you and your mother. It has been a source of the
_greatest_ pleasure, I assure you."
I have never seen the Carwitchets since. The bishop drove over next day
in rather better spirits. Miss Panton had refused the chaplain.
"It doesn't matter, my lord," I said to him heartily. "We've all been
under some strange misconception. The stone in your possession is the
veritable one. I could swear to that anywhere. The sapphire Lady
Carwitchet wears is only an excellent imitation, and--I have seen it
with my own eyes--is the one bearing Bogaerts's mark, the Greek Beta."
THE OBLONG BOX
EDGAR ALLAN POE
Some years ago I engaged passage from Charleston, S. C., to the city of
New York, in the fine packet-ship _Independence_, Captain Hardy. We were
to sail on the fifteenth of the month (June), weather permitting; and on
the fourteenth I went on board to arrange some matters in my stateroom.
I found that we were to have a great many passengers, including a more
than usual number of ladies. On the list were several of my
acquaintances; and among other names I was rejoiced to see that of Mr.
Cornelius Wyatt, a young artist, for whom I entertained feelings of warm
friendship. He had been, with me, a fellow-student at C---- University,
where we were very much together. He had the ordinary temperament of
genius, and was a compound of misanthropy, sensibility, and enthusiasm.
To these qualities he united the warmest and truest heart which ever
beat in a human bosom.
I observed that his name was carded upon three staterooms: and upon
again referring to the list of passengers I found that he had engaged
passage for himself, wife, and two sisters--his own. The staterooms were
sufficiently roomy, and each had two berths, one above the other. These
berths, to be sure, were so exceedingly narrow as to be insufficient for
more than one person; still, I could not comprehend why there were three
staterooms for these four persons. I was, just at that epoch, in one of
those moody frames of mind which make a man abnormally inquisitive about
trifles: and I confess with shame that I busied myself in a variety of
ill-bred and preposterous conjectures about this matter of the
supernumerary stateroom. It was no business of mine, to be sure; but
with none the less pertinacity did I occupy myself in attempts to
resolve the enigma. At last I reached a conclusion which wrought in me
great wonder why I had not arrived at it before. "It is a servant, of
course," I said; "what a fool I am not sooner to have thought of so
obvious a solution!" And then I again repaired to the list, but here I
saw distinctly that no servant was to come with the party: although, in
fact, it had been the original design to bring one, for the words "and
servant" had been first written and then overscored. "Oh, extra baggage,
to be sure," I now said to myself; "something he wishes not to be put in
the hold, something to be kept under his own eye,--ah, I have it! a
painting or so, and this is what he has been bargaining about with
Nicolino, the Italian Jew." This idea satisfied me and I dismissed my
curiosity for the nonce.
Wyatt's two sisters I knew very well, and most amiable and clever girls
they were. His wife he had newly married, and I had never yet seen her.
He had often talked about her in my presence, however, and in his usual
style of enthusiasm. He described her as of surpassing beauty, wit, and
accomplishment. I was, therefore, quite anxious to make her
acquaintance.
On the day in which I visited the ship (the fourteenth), Wyatt and party
were also to visit it, so the Captain informed me, and I waited on board
an hour longer than I had designed in hope of being presented to the
bride; but then an apology came. "Mrs. W. was a little indisposed, and
would decline coming on board until to-morrow at the hour of sailing."
The morrow having arrived, I was going from my hotel to the wharf, when
Captain Hardy met me and said that, "owing to circumstances" (a stupid
but convenient phrase), "he rather thought the _Independence_ would not
sail for a day or two, and that when all was ready he would send up and
let me know." This I thought strange, for there was a stiff southerly
breeze; but as "the circumstances" were not forthcoming, although I
pumped for them with much perseverance, I had nothing to do but to
return home and digest my impatience at leisure.
I did not receive the expected message from the Captain for nearly a
week. It came at length, however, and I immediately went on board. The
ship was crowded with passengers, and everything was in the bustle
attendant upon making sail. Wyatt's party arrived in about ten minutes
after myself. There were the two sisters, the bride, and the artist--the
latter in one of his customary fits of moody misanthropy. I was too well
used to these, however, to pay them any special attention. He did not
even introduce me to his wife; this courtesy devolving, perforce, upon
his sister Marian, a very sweet and intelligent girl, who in a few
hurried words made us acquainted.
Mrs. Wyatt had been closely veiled; and when she raised her veil in
acknowledging my bow, I confess that I was very profoundly astonished. I
should have been much more so, however, had not long experience advised
me not to trust, with too implicit a reliance, the enthusiastic
descriptions of my friend the artist, when indulging in comments upon
the loveliness of woman. When beauty was the theme, I well knew with
what facility he soared into the regions of the purely ideal.
The truth is, I could not help regarding Mrs. Wyatt as a decidedly
plain-looking woman. If not positively ugly, she was not, I think, very
far from it. She was dressed, however, in exquisite taste, and then I
had no doubt that she had captivated my friend's heart by the more
enduring graces of the intellect and soul. She said very few words, and
passed at once into her stateroom with Mr. W.
My old inquisitiveness now returned. There was no servant, that was a
settled point. I looked, therefore, for the extra baggage. After some
delay a cart arrived at the wharf with an oblong pine box, which was
everything that seemed to be expected. Immediately upon its arrival we
made sail, and in a short time were safely over the bar and standing out
to sea.
The box in question was, as I say, oblong. It was about six feet in
length by two and a half in breadth: I observed it attentively and like
to be precise. Now, this shape was peculiar; and no sooner had I seen it
than I took credit to myself for the accuracy of my guessing. I had
reached the conclusion, it will be remembered, that the extra baggage of
my friend the artist would prove to be pictures, or at least a picture,
for I knew he had been for several weeks in conference with Nicolino;
and now here was a box, which, from its shape, could possibly contain
nothing in the world but a copy of Leonardo's _Last Supper_; and a copy
of this very _Last Supper_, done by Rubini the younger at Florence, I
had known for some time to be in the possession of Nicolino. This point,
therefore, I considered as sufficiently settled. I chuckled excessively
when I thought of my acumen. It was the first time I had ever known
Wyatt to keep from me any of his artistical secrets; but here he
evidently intended to steal a march upon me and smuggle a fine picture
to New York, under my very nose; expecting me to know nothing of the
matter. I resolved to quiz him well, now and hereafter.
One thing, however, annoyed me not a little. The box did not go into the
extra stateroom. It was deposited in Wyatt's own; and there, too, it
remained, occupying very nearly the whole of the floor, no doubt to the
exceeding discomfort of the artist and his wife; this the more
especially as the tar or paint with which it was lettered in sprawling
capitals emitted a strong, disagreeable, and, to my fancy, a peculiarly
disgusting odour. On the lid were painted the words: "Mrs. Adelaide
Curtis, Albany, New York. Charge of Cornelius Wyatt, Esq. This side up.
To be handled with care."
Now, I was aware that Mrs. Adelaide Curtis of Albany was the artist's
wife's mother; but then I looked upon the whole address as a
mystification, intended especially for myself. I made up my mind, of
course, that the box and contents would never get farther north than the
studio of my misanthropic friend in Chambers Street, New York.
For the first three or four days we had fine weather, although the wind
was dead ahead, having chopped round to the northward immediately upon
our losing sight of the coast. The passengers were, consequently, in
high spirits and disposed to be social. I must except, however, Wyatt
and his sisters, who behaved stiffly, and, I could not help thinking,
uncourteously, to the rest of the party. Wyatt's conduct I did not so
much regard. He was gloomy, even beyond his usual habit,--in fact, he
was morose; but in him I was prepared for eccentricity. For the sisters,
however, I could make no excuse. They secluded themselves in their
staterooms during the greater part of the passage, and absolutely
refused, although I repeatedly urged them, to hold communication with
any person on board.
Mrs. Wyatt herself was far more agreeable. That is to say, she was
chatty; and to be chatty is no slight recommendation at sea. She became
excessively intimate with most of the ladies; and, to my profound
astonishment, evinced no equivocal disposition to coquet with the men.
She amused us all very much. I say "amused," and scarcely know how to
explain myself. The truth is, I soon found that Mrs. W. was far oftener
laughed at than with. The gentlemen said little about her; but the
ladies in a little while pronounced her "a good-hearted thing, rather
indifferent-looking, totally uneducated, and decidedly vulgar." The
great wonder was, how Wyatt had been entrapped into such a match. Wealth
was the general solution, but this I knew to be no solution at all; for
Wyatt had told me that she neither brought him a dollar nor had any
expectations from any source whatever. "He had married," he said, "for
love, and for love only; and his bride was far more than worthy of his
love." When I thought of these expressions on the part of my friend, I
confess that I felt indescribably puzzled. Could it be possible that he
was taking leave of his senses? What else could I think? He, so refined,
so intellectual, so fastidious, with so exquisite a perception of the
faulty, and so keen an appreciation of the beautiful! To be sure, the
lady seemed especially fond of him, particularly so in his absence, when
she made herself ridiculous by frequent quotations of what had been said
by her "beloved husband, Mr. Wyatt." The word "husband" seemed forever,
to use one of her own delicate expressions,--forever "on the tip of her
tongue." In the meantime it was observed by all on board that he avoided
her in the most pointed manner, and, for the most part, shut himself up
alone in his stateroom, where, in fact, he might have been said to live
altogether, leaving his wife at full liberty to amuse herself as she
thought best in the public society of the main cabin.
My conclusion, from what I saw and heard, was that the artist, by some
unaccountable freak of fate, or perhaps in some fit of enthusiastic and
fanciful passion, had been induced to unite himself with a person
altogether beneath him, and that the natural result, entire and speedy
disgust, had ensued. I pitied him from the bottom of my heart, but could
not, for that reason, quite forgive his incommunicativeness in the
matter of the _Last Supper_. For this I resolved to have my revenge.
One day he came up on deck, and, taking his arm as had been my wont, I
sauntered with him backward and forward. His gloom, however (which I
considered quite natural under the circumstances), seemed entirely
unabated. He said little, and that moodily, and with evident effort. I
ventured a jest or two, and he made a sickening attempt at a smile. Poor
fellow! as I thought of his wife I wondered that he could have heart to
put on even the semblance of mirth. At last I ventured a home thrust. I
determined to commence a series of covert insinuations, or innuendos,
about the oblong box, just to let him perceive, gradually, that I was
not altogether the butt, or victim, of his little bit of pleasant
mystification. My first observation was by way of opening a masked
battery. I said something about the "peculiar shape of that box"; and,
as I spoke the words I smiled knowingly, winked, and touched him gently
with my forefinger in the ribs.
The manner in which Wyatt received this harmless pleasantry convinced me
at once that he was mad. At first he stared at me as if he found it
impossible to comprehend the witticism of my remark; but as its point
seemed slowly to make its way into his brain, his eyes, in the same
proportion, seemed protruding from their sockets. Then he grew very red,
then hideously pale, then, as if highly amused with what I had
insinuated, he began a loud and boisterous laugh, which, to my
astonishment, he kept up, with gradually increasing vigour, for ten
minutes or more. In conclusion, he fell flat and heavily upon the deck.
When I ran to uplift him, to all appearance he was dead.
I called assistance, and, with much difficulty, we brought him to
himself. Upon reviving he spoke incoherently for some time. At length we
bled him and put him to bed. The next morning he was quite recovered, so
far as regarded his mere bodily health. Of his mind I say nothing, of
course. I avoided him during the rest of the passage, by advice of the
Captain, who seemed to coincide with me altogether in my views of his
insanity, but cautioned me to say nothing on this head to any person on
board.
Several circumstances occurred immediately after this fit of Wyatt's
which contributed to heighten the curiosity with which I was already
possessed. Among other things, this: I had been nervous; drank too much
strong green tea, and slept ill at night,--in fact, for two nights I
could not be properly said to sleep at all. Now, my stateroom opened
into the main cabin or dining-room, as did those of all the single men
on board. Wyatt's three rooms were in the after-cabin, which was
separated from the main one by a slight sliding door, never locked even
at night. As we were almost constantly on a wind, and the breeze was not
a little stiff, the ship heeled to leeward very considerably; and
whenever her starboard side was to leeward the sliding door between the
cabins slid open and so remained, nobody taking the trouble to get up
and shut it. But my berth was in such a position that when my own
stateroom door was open, as well as the sliding door in question (and my
own door was always open on account of the heat), I could see into the
after-cabin quite distinctly, and just at that portion of it, too, where
were situated the staterooms of Mr. Wyatt. Well, during two nights (not
consecutive), while I lay awake, I clearly saw Mrs. W., about eleven
o'clock upon each night, steal cautiously from the stateroom of Mr. W.
and enter the extra room, where she remained until daybreak, when she
was called by her husband and went back. That they were virtually
separated was clear. They had separate apartments, no doubt in
contemplation of a more permanent divorce; and here, after all, I
thought, was the mystery of the extra stateroom.
There was another circumstance, too, which interested me much. During
the two wakeful nights in question, and immediately after the
disappearance of Mrs. Wyatt into the extra stateroom, I was attracted by
certain singular, cautious, subdued noises in that of her husband. After
listening to them for some time with thoughtful attention, I at length
succeeded perfectly in translating their import. They were sounds
occasioned by the artist in prying open the oblong box by means of a
chisel and mallet, the latter being apparently muffled or deadened by
some soft woollen or cotton substance in which its head was enveloped.
In this manner I fancied I could distinguish the precise moment when he
fairly disengaged the lid, also that I could determine when he removed
it altogether, and when he deposited it upon the lower berth in his
room; this latter point I knew, for example, by certain slight taps
which the lid made in striking against the wooden edges of the berth as
he endeavoured to lay it down very gently, there being no room for it on
the floor. After this there was a dead stillness, and I heard nothing
more, upon either occasion, until nearly daybreak; unless, perhaps, I
may mention a low sobbing or murmuring sound, so very much suppressed as
to be nearly inaudible, if, indeed, the whole of this latter noise were
not rather produced by my own imagination. I say it seemed to resemble
sobbing or sighing, but, of course, it could not have been either. I
rather think it was a ringing in my own ears. Mr. Wyatt, no doubt,
according to custom, was merely giving the rein to one of his hobbies,
indulging in one of his fits of artistic enthusiasm. He had opened his
oblong box in order to feast his eyes on the pictorial treasure within.
There was nothing in this, however, to make him sob. I repeat,
therefore, that it must have been simply a freak of my own fancy,
distempered by good Captain Hardy's green tea. Just before dawn, on each
of the two nights of which I speak, I distinctly heard Mr. Wyatt replace
the lid upon the oblong box, and force the nails into their old places
by means of the muffled mallet. Having done this, he issued from his
stateroom, fully dressed, and proceeded to call Mrs. W. from hers.
We had been at sea seven days, and were now off Cape Hatteras, when
there came a tremendously heavy blow from the southwest. We were, in a
measure, prepared for it, however, as the weather had been holding out
threats for some time. Everything was made snug, alow and aloft; and, as
the wind steadily freshened, we lay to, at length, under spanker and
foretopsail, both double-reefed.
In this trim we rode safely enough for forty-eight hours, the ship
proving herself an excellent sea-boat in many respects, and shipping no
water of any consequence. At the end of this period, however, the gale
had freshened into a hurricane, and our after-sail split into ribbons,
bringing us so much in the trough of the water that we shipped several
prodigious seas, one immediately after the other. By this accident we
lost three men overboard with the caboose, and nearly the whole of the
larboard bulwarks. Scarcely had we recovered our senses before the
foretopsail went into shreds, when we got up a storm staysail, and with
this did pretty well for some hours, the ship heading the sea much more
steadily than before.
The gale still held on, however, and we saw no signs of its abating. The
rigging was found to be ill-fitted and greatly strained; and on the
third day of the blow, about five in the afternoon, our mizzen-mast, in
a heavy lurch to windward, went by the board. For an hour or more we
tried in vain to get rid of it, on account of the prodigious rolling of
the ship; and, before we had succeeded, the carpenter came aft and
announced four feet water in the hold. To add to our dilemma, we found
the pumps choked and nearly useless.
All was now confusion and despair, but an effort was made to lighten the
ship by throwing overboard as much of her cargo as could be reached, and
by cutting away the two masts that remained. This we at last
accomplished, but we were still unable to do anything at the pumps; and,
in the meantime, the leak gained on us very fast.
At sundown the gale had sensibly diminished in violence, and, as the sea
went down with it, we still entertained faint hopes of saving ourselves
in the boats. At eight P.M., the clouds broke away to windward, and we
had the advantage of a full moon, a piece of good fortune which served
wonderfully to cheer our drooping spirits.
After incredible labour we succeeded, at length, in getting the
long-boat over the side without material accident, and into this we
crowded the whole of the crew and most of the passengers. This party
made off immediately, and, after undergoing much suffering, finally
arrived in safety at Ocracoke Inlet, on the third day after the wreck.
Fourteen passengers, with the Captain, remained on board, resolving to
trust their fortunes to the jolly-boat at the stern. We lowered it
without difficulty, although it was only by a miracle that we prevented
it from swamping as it touched the water. It contained, when afloat, the
Captain and his wife, Mr. Wyatt and party, a Mexican officer, wife, four
children, and myself, with a negro valet.
We had no room, of course, for anything except a few positively
necessary instruments, some provisions, and the clothes upon our backs.
No one had thought of even attempting to save anything more. What must
have been the astonishment of all, then, when, having proceeded a few
fathoms from the ship, Mr. Wyatt stood up in the stern-sheets and coolly
demanded of Captain Hardy that the boat should be put back for the
purpose of taking in his oblong box!
"Sit down, Mr. Wyatt," replied the Captain, somewhat sternly; "you will
capsize us if you do not sit quite still. Our gunwale is almost in the
water now."
"The box!" vociferated Mr. Wyatt, still standing, "the box, I say!
Captain Hardy, you cannot, you will not refuse me. Its weight will be
but a trifle, it is nothing, mere nothing. By the mother who bore
you--for the love of Heaven--by your hope of salvation, I implore you to
put back for the box!"
The Captain for a moment seemed touched by the earnest appeal of the
artist, but he regained his stern composure, and merely said:
"Mr. Wyatt, you are mad. I cannot listen to you. Sit down, I say, or you
will swamp the boat. Stay! hold him, seize him! he is about to spring
overboard! There--I knew it--he is over!"
As the Captain said this, Mr. Wyatt, in fact, sprang from the boat, and,
as we were yet in the lee of the wreck, succeeded, by almost superhuman
exertion, in getting hold of a rope which hung from the forechains. In
another moment he was on board, and rushing frantically down into the
cabin.