The next morning came, and with it came also the usual bustle of a
country inn, when strangers are stopping there, especially carriage
strangers; as well as the usual coach stoppages, when they change
horses, which they did more than once that morning. It was at a later
hour than usual when the party breakfasted, and it was somewhat late
when Sir Francis Varney entered the room.
“Good morning,” said Sir Francis, with great suavity of manner, and in
a most courtly tone; “I trust I see you somewhat recovered from the
fright you were put to last night.”
“Oh, Sir Francis,” said Mrs. Fraser; “it was a dreadful fright, indeed;
but we have so much to thank you for. To you we owe much, and my sister
owes to you a double obligation—you have rescued her twice.”
“I am happy to think I have been a fortunate instrument in serving you.
I trust Miss Stevens is better than she was.”
“I think she is better, Sir Francis; but she desires to remain in her
apartment until we are ready to start. Though I thought it somewhat
unreasonable, because, if she is to travel, she had better have come
out.”
“But her rest was disturbed by the accident, and it might have been
early before she slept; and an hour’s rest and repose might do much
towards recovering her,” said Sir Francis; “her own feelings are a good
guide under those circumstances.”
“I think so, too,” said Captain Fraser.
“I,” said young Stevens, “was awoke by a desperate riot caused by
people running about; I did not hear anything of the scream.”
“I was awoke by it,” said Captain Fraser. “How did you hear of it—how
were you awoke?”
“By a loud scream,” said Sir Francis; “I was asleep, and when it awoke
me, I knew not what it was. I remained for a moment or two in doubt as
to whether I had not dreamt, but a repetition assured me that I was not
dreaming—and knowing from the sound it was a female’s voice, I jumped
up, and dressed myself as well as I could; but, before I could do that,
I heard people running about, and when I got into the gallery, I heard
the door burst in.”
“Did any one come out?”
“I cannot say—I saw no one; but the man who first entered the apartment
fell down, from some cause or other, and set the bed-curtains on
fire—accidentally, of course, but it was the same in effect.”
“Did you see any one in the room, Sir Francis?”
“No one at all; I did not even know who slept there; but seeing the
form of a human being lying there, and wrapping the bed-clothes, or
rather seizing her and the bed-clothes, by grasping with both arms, I
carried her out. I used but little ceremony, and the urgency of the
case must be my excuse.”
“And it is, Sir Francis, though I know not in what way we can manifest
our feelings of gratitude to you.”
“You may, madam, by saying no more about it; but I shall be delighted
to think you have such a good opinion of my services; and the knowledge
that they have been useful, that is a gratification to me.”
“And one you are well entitled to, Sir Francis,” said Captain Fraser.
“How far are you travelling?” inquired Mrs. Fraser.
“As far as Bath, madam, for the benefit of my health.”
“We are going to Bath, Sir Francis, as well. I am sure it will be a
great pleasure to Captain Fraser, to find that we are to have such
a travelling companion—that is, if you can accommodate yourself to
travelling in a carriage.”
“I can travel as you please. I am mounted, and am used to such
travelling, for months at a time.”
“Do you travel much at a time, Sir Francis?”
“Yes, I have been a great traveller, for years; not so much as regards
distance as to the constancy of my perambulations; for I continue for
months together out, riding from one town to another.”
“Without an attendant?”
“Always; I never carry a servant about with me; it cannot be done with
comfort by any one. You have always proper attendance if you stop
at a respectable inn, or hotel; or, if not, if the road you have to
travel be a cross route, you cannot expect any additional comfort from
a servant, but you are troubled at his not being comfortably lodged; at
least, I am, for I have tried it.”
“I dare say there is much wisdom in that. I know from experience that
a single traveller, who has leisure, and is willing, may enjoy himself
better than he could if he were attended by his servant. You are
somewhat restrained in your motions, and cannot do as you would please
under all circumstances.”
“I am fully persuaded of that, from experience; but I shall travel on
horseback till I get to Bath, and then I hardly know whether I shall
remain at an hotel, or take lodgings for the season—or what.”
“What we intend is, to take lodgings,” said Captain Fraser, “for a
time—as long as we feel inclined—and then to enjoy ourselves.”
“Quite right,” said Sir Francis; “quite right. I am glad to hear you
say so, and I hope it may be of advantage to Miss Stevens.”
“I hope so too. Shall we have the advantage of your company _en route_?”
“I shall have great pleasure in having your company so far. It will
give me great gratification, indeed; I shall be most happy to bear
your company as far as the city of Bath, and shall consider myself the
gainer by your society.”
“No, we shall be the only party that will benefit by it; but we shall
feel greatly your kindness, and I, for one, anticipate much pleasure on
the road from your society, and also when we arrive in Bath.”
“I feel such will be the case.”
At this moment Mr. Carter was announced also. In a few moments more
this individual was introduced to them; he was a plain gentlemanly man,
who really was a clever man, notwithstanding the fearful account of
his prowess and skill which the landlord had descanted on the previous
night.
“Well, Mr. Carter,” said Captain Fraser, “how do you find my sister—do
you think she is any better than she was?”
“I think she is calmer, and much of the first violence of terror is
gone; but I cannot say any more—she is still much disturbed.”
“Do you think there is anything dangerous in her state?”
“No, sir, I do not; though I cannot hide from you the possibility that
there is of her being permanently affected by it—I mean mentally; it
may take a deep hold of her, and there will be no getting her free from
it, save by judicious treatment.”
“You do not consider much, then, of her wound?”
“The arm? Oh, yes; that looks very angry, and has been a very severe
bite, and has caused her arm to swell; though I have no doubt about its
getting well, still it will be very painful for some days; and, had
it been a little more severe, it is possible that some of the tendons
might have been injured, or an artery wounded.”
“Upon my word,” said Sir Francis Varney, “this had very nigh turned out
a very bad and serious affair, if not a dangerous one.”
“Of that there can be no doubt,” said the doctor.
“Well, but, after all, what was it that has caused all this
disturbance? What was it, a man or brute?”
“Decidedly the latter,” said Sir Francis Varney, “decidedly the latter,
be the form of the creature what it may.”
“Indeed, you are right, Sir Francis,” said Mrs. Fraser; “but she
insists it was a human being who made this abominable attack upon
her—why or wherefore, no one knows; but she insists it was a man.”
“What do you say, doctor?”
“I only know, sir, what the young lady says.”
“Do you think it probable?”
“I cannot say I do. I think it most unlikely; though, to be sure, there
is nothing in it that is impossible. Had any one felt maliciously
towards the young lady, they might have perpetrated the crime; but, in
the absence of all malice, I cannot think so bad of human nature as to
believe it.”
“You discredit it, then?” said Sir Francis Varney.
“I do,” said the doctor, “with all due respect to the young lady; but
the probability of mistake is so great, and when you consider the
terror so natural to the occasion, her powers of observation were
limited and liable to error, that I cannot myself believe otherwise
than there is a great mistake.”
“And what do you consider of the wounds? I mean, do you think it
possible they were inflicted by human teeth? Are they of that shape and
character that could be inflicted by human teeth?”
“Yes, decidedly; that is, so far as I am able to judge, while the wound
is swelled and angry, I should consider them just such as might be
inflicted by the teeth of a man or woman.”
“That corroborates the young lady’s own belief.”
“It does, so far,” said Mr. Carter.
“Then comes the question of how could it have been done, and by whom?”
“These seem to be questions which cannot be answered. I asked the
landlord all that could tend to elicit that information, but with no
success; he knew nothing that could throw any light upon the subject.”
“Perhaps he knew nothing,” suggested Mrs. Fraser.
“Most probably he did not,” was the reply. “I know the landlord to be
a respectable, though somewhat eccentric man; and I think him quite
incapable of being a party to such an outrage upon any person, much
less upon a lady who was stopping at his house.”
“Well, however true that may be, yet it is undeniable that this outrage
has been committed, though by whom we cannot say, for we do not even
suspect anybody. I can’t understand it at all.”
“Nor I; but, as you observed, sir, the outrage has been committed, and
here, too; but, unfortunately, no one is suspected, and justice cannot
be done, which, in such a case, ought to be fully and clearly made out,
for there can be no palliation.”
“None at all.”
“I wish,” said Captain Fraser, “I had been first in the room.”
“Why, sir,” inquired Sir Francis Varney, “do you wish that?”
“Because you see, sir, I should have felt that inward satisfaction
arising from the fact, that I fancy I might have ascertained whether
any one was, or had been, in the room.”
“The young lady said there was,” said Sir Francis.
“Yes—yes; but then you saw the door opened, and saw no one come out.”
“I did not, though, after I had Miss Stevens in my arms, I came away,
and then it was possible any one might have got out, though there were
others who would have seen them; but still, in the bustle and confusion
of the moment, there might have been somebody.”
“Yes, there is that possibility,” said Captain Fraser; “and I don’t see
why I should trouble myself about this affair—I mean, by wishing myself
there; but I should have done nothing but carry out the body—that would
have been my first act.”
“No doubt,” said Sir Francis; “and what made such an act the more
necessary is, the fact that she was in instant danger of death from
burning, or suffocation.”
“True—true; who would have coolly gazed around him, when there, on the
bed, lay the unfortunate victim of God knows what.”
“Well, sir, I must bid you good day. I have some patients to visit.”
“Not before we square accounts, which is easily done. Let me know how
we may stand, sir, and I will pay you at once.”
This little affair was soon settled; and the doctor was about to
depart, when he said, before he left the room,—
“I have given the young lady directions what to do relative to her arm.
She must not use it much; but any medical man who may chance to see
it, will be able to prescribe for it; though what I have given I deem
almost enough to effect her complete restoration, as far as regards the
arm. The shock, the mind and nervous system have sustained, will only
be eradicated by time and change.”
“Thank you for your advice; that shall be attended to.”
The doctor now quitted the hotel; and the landlord entered the
apartment with a very serious aspect; and, after making his bow,
proceeded to say,—
“I am very sorry, sir, for the occurrence of last night—very sorry,
indeed. Indeed, sir, I cannot make it out at all. I have inquired all
over the house, and nobody at all knows anything about it, nor can’t
think how it could be. A good many of them won’t believe it at all,
though I told them there could be no doubt of it, for the young lady
was burnt, and the bed set on fire.”
“You may be sure of that, landlord; the young lady has been bitten on
the arm most severely.”
“And, as for the fire,” said Sir Francis, “I saw how that occurred.”
“So you said, sir,” replied the landlord; “if that fellow as fell down
had stood up, why, it wouldn’t have set the curtains a fire.”
“No, that is true.”
“Well, then, he would have been able to have seen what was the matter,
instead of his filling the room full of smoke and fire as he did; he
hadn’t no excuse to tumble down—nobody knocked him down.”
“But didn’t he hurt himself very badly?”
“Oh, only about two or three square inches, or perhaps a patch as big
as your hand, off his chin—that’s nothing to such as he.”
“Very good. But have you examined the place, to see if anybody could
have got in and concealed himself? Was there any possibility of a man’s
getting into your house, and secreting himself in any part of the
bed-room, which would thus afford him an opportunity of doing what has
been done?”
“Why, sir, I don’t think it likely; and yet these people are so
cunning, that you could not, by any possibility, guard against them
in any way, especially in an inn. But there is no house free from
intrusion of that character; but in this instance they could have had
no notion the young lady was to sleep there.”
“That is very true,” said Captain Fraser, “and tends to show she was
not singled out for outrage; but what seems very singular, is, that any
one should secret themselves, and that with a view to commit such an
outrage.”
“That is very true,” said the landlord; “but people do very strange
things sometimes, and I think the object of any one hiding himself in
the house in such a manner as this rascal must have done, was robbery.”
“But he met with no resistance, and there could have been no excuse for
so cowardly an assault as this complained of.”
“There is much truth in that, and yet we don’t know what human nature
is capable of,” said the landlord. “I have known a few things in my
time; but the man, or whatever he might be, might have been tempted to
make the assault complained of.”
“What? Then, landlord, you imagine that a thief who had got into the
house, would make an attempt to eat a young lady?”
“Why, as to eating her, sir,” said the landlord, scratching his head,
“I cannot say that he would. I don’t know what his intentions might be,
nor do I profess to understand it at all. I can’t, however, see what
can be the motive, save malice and spite; they mightn’t care whom they
injured, so long as somebody was hurt.”
“They must have been very bad.”
“Yes, sir; and I wish I had seen them; if I had, I would no more mind
chopping them in two than I would cleave a marrow-bone. I truly hope,
sir, you won’t consider that, however unfortunate the circumstances
are, that I am blameable in this affair. I took all the usual
precautions in this affair—that is, my house was secured as usual,
and the place watched during the day; for we are particular in that
respect, knowing that we are very liable to be robbed.”
“Exactly,” said Captain Fraser; “and though I much regret the
occurrence, yet, I tell you, I do not see anything in which I say you
are to blame. It is simply a great misfortune, and there ends the
matter.”
“Thank you. I regret it as much, I am sure, as anybody, because I am
very likely to be injured by it.”
“You are not to blame. Allow my carriage to be at the door in half an
hour, as we shall leave almost immediately.”
“And my horse, too, landlord, as I bear this gentleman company.”
The landlord departed, and went towards the stables, and gave the
necessary orders; while the guests remained conversing on the
extraordinary occurrence that had taken place, and much pleased with
the courtesy of their new friend.
Many were the speculations that were indulged in respecting the attack
upon Miss Stevens; many of them wild, but all wide of the mark,
fortunately, for her frame of mind; and then, before they had at all
come to any conclusion, or any satisfactory probability, the carriage
was announced.
“Well, Sir Francis, I presume you will ride with us?”
“Yes, on horseback.”
“I understand so; we shall be much indebted to you for your goodness;
but here is Miss Stevens.”
At that moment the young lady entered the room, ready attired for
travelling, but looking very pale and timid. Sir Francis advanced, and,
taking her hand, said,—
“May I have the pleasure of hearing you say the occurrence of last
night has done you only a temporary mischief?”
“I hope not,” said Miss Stevens; “but, to you, Sir Francis, I owe
everything. I am grateful to you for your ready and effectual aid under
such trying circumstances. I am sure I never can repay you for your
goodness.”
“Nay, the task is easier than you imagine,” said Sir Francis; “to know
that I have saved you, and to see it has been effectual, is repayment
enough. I am sure we never feel so much satisfaction and pleasure as
when we find our endeavours, however important or unimportant they are,
have proved effectual—that we have done what we desired to do—that is
ample reward.”
“You are so good, Sir Francis.”
“We will say nothing about that. None are so perfect but we may see
room for amendment; but we will have a truce, I hope, upon this
subject, and now converse upon the pleasures of our journey.”
“They, I hope, will be very many,” said Mrs. Fraser.
“I have every expectation of it myself,” said Sir Francis; “the day
appears fine, and the sun is high. The storm of last evening has
cleared the air of much of its heat; it is cool and pleasant. The
country will look refreshed, the fields will be quite gay and pleasant,
and the face of nature renewed.”
“Well, I am certain it will be a pleasant journey under such a change,
for I must say it was very sultry yesterday.”
“It was,” said Captain Fraser; “the appearance of the earth alone will
tell that. But are you all ready?”
“Yes, all,” replied Mrs. Fraser.
“Now, my dear Charles, what are you about?”
“I’m looking for my gloves,” said the youth; “but I can’t find them.”
“Never mind them; we shall be off without you.”
“I’ll come before you have all got into the carriage, so don’t wait.”
“Permit me, Miss Stevens,” said Sir Francis, as he offered his arm, “to
have the pleasure of seeing you safe into the carriage.”
The young lady accepted of the proffered arm of Sir Francis, though not
without something like reluctance, though, why, she could not tell;
but yet she did not like to appear to hesitate, and forced herself to
do what common courtesy, if not gratitude, demanded she should do. She
took his arm, and the whole party were shortly seated in the carriage,
and with Sir Francis Varney mounted beside them, they all quitted the
inn, where they had experienced such strange vicissitudes of fortune
during one night, that it would never be erased from their memories.