THE ALARM.
He arose, held up on either hand that day as if fighting
against Amalek;--despair buttressed him on one side, and secresy shored
him on the other: behind that wall of stone his heart had strength to
beat.
He arose; and listened at the key-hole anxiously: all silent, quiet,
quiet still; the whole house asleep: nothing found out yet. And he bit
his nails to the quick, that they bled again: but he never felt the
pain.
Hush!--yes, somebody's about: it is Jonathan's step; and hark, he is
humming merrily, "Hail, smiling morn, that opes the gates of day?" Wo,
wo--what a dismal gulph between Jonathan and me! And he beat his breast
miserably. But, Jonathan cannot find it out--he never goes to Mrs.
Quarles's room. Oh! this suspense is horrible: haste, haste, some kind
soul, to make the dread discovery! And he tore his hair away by
handfulls.
"Hark!--somebody else--unlatching shutters; it will be Sarah--ha! she is
tapping at the housekeeper's room--yes, yes, and she will make it known,
O terrible joy!--A scream! it is Sarah's voice--she has seen her dead,
dead, dead;--but is she indeed dead?"
The miscreant quivered with new fears; she might still mutter "Simon did
it!"
And now the house is thoroughly astir; running about in all directions;
and shouting for help; and many knocking loudly at the murderer's own
door--"Mr. Jennings! Mr. Jennings!--quick--get up--come down--quick,
quick--your aunt's found dead in her bed!"
What a relief to the trembling wretch!--she _was_ dead. He could have
blessed the voice that told him his dread secret was so safe. But his
parched tongue may never bless again: curses, curses are all its
blessings now.
And Jennings came out calmly from his chamber, a white, stern,
sanctimonious man, lulling the storm with his wise presence:--"God's
will be done," said he; "what can poor weak mortals answer Him?" And he
played cleverly the pious elder, the dignified official, the
affectionate nephew: "Ah, well, my humble friends, behold what life is:
the best of us must come to this; my poor, dear aunt, the late
house-keeper, rest her soul--I feared it might be this way some night or
other: she was a stout woman, was our dear, deceased Bridget--and,
though a good kind soul, lived much on meat and beer: ah well, ah well!"
And he concealed his sentimental hypocrisy in a cotton pocket-handkerchief.
"Alas, and well-a-day! that it should have come to this. Apoplexy--you
see, apoplexy caught her as she slept: we may as well get her buried at
once: it is unfortunately too clear a case for any necessity to open the
body; and our young master is coming down on Tuesday, and I could not
allow my aunt's corpse to be so disrespectful as to stop till it became
offensive. I will go to the vicar myself immediately."
"Begging pardon, Mr. Jennings," urged Jonathan Floyd, "there's a strange
mark here about the throat, poor old 'ooman."
"Ay," added Sarah, "and now I come to think of it, Mrs. Quarles's
room-door was ajar; and bless me, the lawn-door's not locked neither!
Who could have murdered her?"
"Murdered? there's no murder here, silly wench," said Jennings, with a
nervous sneer.
"I don't know that, Mr. Simon," gruffly interposed the coachman; "it's a
case for a coroner, I'll be bail; so here I goes to bring him: let all
bide as it is, fellow-sarvents; murder will out, they say."
And off he set directly--not without a shrewd remark from Mr. Jennings,
about letting him escape that way; which seemed all very sage and
likely, till the honest man came back within the hour, and a _posse
comitatus_ at his heels.
We all know the issue of that inquest.
Now, if any one requests to be informed how Jennings came to be looked
for as usual in his room, after that unavailing search last night, I
reply, this newer, stronger excitement for the minute made the house
oblivious of that mystery; and if people further will persist to know,
how that mystery of his absence was afterwards explained (though I for
my part would gladly have said nothing of the bailiff's own excuse), let
it be enough to hint, that Jennings winked with a knowing and gallant
expression of face; alluded to his private key, and a secret return at
two in the morning from some disreputable society in the neighbourhood;
made the men laugh, and the women blush; and, altogether, as he might
well have other hats and coats, the delicate affair was not unlikely.