THE MEETING NEAR THE STATUE
The evening of the third day arrived, and Auriol entered Hyde Park by
Stanhope Gate. Glancing at his watch, and finding it wanted nearly
three-quarters of an hour of the time appointed for his meeting with the
mysterious stranger, he struck across the park, in the direction of the
Serpentine River. Apparently he was now perfectly recovered, for his arm
was without the support of the sling, and he walked with great
swiftness. But his countenance was deathly pale, and his looks were so
wild and disordered, that the few persons he encountered shrank from him
aghast.
A few minutes' rapid walking brought him to the eastern extremity of the
Serpentine, and advancing close to the edge of the embankment, he gazed
at the waters beneath his feet.
"I would plunge into them, if I could find repose," he murmured. "But it
would avail nothing. I should only add to my sufferings. No; I must
continue to endure the weight of a life burdened by crime and remorse,
till I can find out the means of freeing myself from it. Once I dreaded
this unknown danger, but now I seek for it in vain."
The current of his thoughts was here interrupted by the sudden
appearance of a dark object on the surface of the water, which he at
first took to be a huge fish, with a pair of green fins springing from
its back; but after watching it more closely for a few moments, he
became convinced that it was a human being, tricked out in some
masquerade attire, while the slight struggles which it made proved that
life was not entirely extinct.
Though, the moment before, he had contemplated self-destruction, and had
only been restrained from the attempt by the certainty of failing in his
purpose, instinct prompted him to rescue the perishing creature before
him. Without hesitation, therefore, and without tarrying to divest
himself of his clothes, he dashed into the water, and striking out,
instantly reached the object of his quest, which still continued to
float, and turning it over, for the face was downwards, he perceived it
was an old man, of exceedingly small size, habited in a pantomimic garb.
He also remarked that a rope was twisted round the neck of the
unfortunate being, making it evident that some violent attempt had been
made upon his life.
Without pausing for further investigation, he took firm hold of the
leathern wings of the dwarf, and with his disengaged hand propelled
himself towards the shore, dragging the other after him. The next
instant he reached the bank, clambered up the low brickwork, and placed
his burden in safety.
The noise of the plunge had attracted attention, and several persons now
hurried to the spot. On coming up, and finding Auriol bending over a
water-sprite--for such, at first sight, the dwarf appeared--they could
not repress their astonishment. Wholly insensible to the presence of
those around him, Auriol endeavoured to recall where he had seen the
dwarf before. All at once, the recollection flashed upon him, and he
cried aloud, "Why, it is my poor murdered grandfather's attendant,
Flapdragon! But no! no!--he must be dead ages ago! Yet the resemblance
is singularly striking!"
Auriol's exclamations, coupled with his wild demeanour, surprised the
bystanders, and they came to the conclusion that he must be a travelling
showman, who had attempted to drown his dwarf--the grotesque, impish
garb of the latter convincing them that he had been exhibited at a
booth. They made signs, therefore, to each other not to let Auriol
escape, and one of them, raising the dwarf's head on his knee, produced
a flask, and poured some brandy from it down his throat, while others
chafed his hands. These efforts were attended with much speedier success
than might have been anticipated. After a struggle or two for
respiration, the dwarf opened his eyes, and gazed at the group around
him.
"It must be Flapdragon!" exclaimed Auriol.
"Ah! who calls me?" cried the dwarf.
"I!" rejoined Auriol. "Do you not recollect me?"
"To be sure!" exclaimed the dwarf, gazing at him fixedly; "you are----"
and he stopped.
"You have been thrown into the water, Master Flapdragon?" cried a
bystander, noticing the cord round the dwarf's throat.
"I have," replied the little old man.
"By your governor--that is, by this person?" cried another, laying hold
of Auriol.
"By him--no," said the dwarf; "I have not seen that gentleman for nearly
three centuries."
"Three centuries, my little patriarch?" said the man who had given him
the brandy. "That's a long time. Think again."
"It's perfectly true, nevertheless," replied the dwarf.
"His wits have been washed away by the water," said the first speaker.
"Give him a drop more brandy."
"Not a bit of it," rejoined the dwarf; "my senses were never clearer
than at this moment. At last we have met," he continued, addressing
Auriol, "and I hope we shall not speedily part again. We hold life by
the same tie."
"How came you in the desperate condition in which I found you?" demanded
Auriol evasively.
"I was thrown into the canal with a stone to my neck, like a dog about
to be drowned," replied the dwarf. "But, as you are aware, I'm not so
easily disposed of."
Again the bystanders exchanged significant looks.
"By whom was the attempt made?" inquired Auriol.
"I don't know the villain's name," rejoined the dwarf, "but he's a very
tall, dark man, and is generally wrapped in a long black cloak."
"Ha!" exclaimed Auriol. "When was it done?"
"Some nights ago, I should fancy," replied the dwarf, "for I've been a
terrible long time under water. I have only just managed to shake off
the stone."
At this speech there was a titter of incredulity among the bystanders.
"You may laugh, but it's true!" cried the dwarf angrily.
"We must speak of this anon," said Auriol. "Will you convey him to the
nearest tavern?" he added, placing money in the hands of the man who
held the dwarf in his arms.
"Willingly, sir," replied the man. "I'll take him to the Life Guardsman,
near the barracks--that's the nearest public."
"I'll join him there in an hour," replied Auriol, moving away.
And as he disappeared, the man took up his little burden, and bent his
steps towards the barracks.
Utterly disregarding the dripping state of his habiliments, Auriol
proceeded quickly to the place of rendezvous. Arrived there, he looked
around, and not seeing any one, flung himself upon a bench at the foot
of the gentle eminence on which the gigantic statue of Achilles is
placed.
It was becoming rapidly dark, and heavy clouds, portending speedy rain,
increased the gloom. Auriol's thoughts were sombre as the weather and
the hour, and he fell into a deep fit of abstraction, from which he was
roused by a hand laid on his shoulder.
Recoiling at the touch, he raised his eyes, and beheld the stranger
leaning over him, and gazing at him with a look of diabolical
exultation. The cloak was thrown partly aside, so as to display the
tall, gaunt figure of its wearer; while the large collar of sable fur
with which it was decorated stood out like the wings of a demon. The
stranger's hat was off, and his high broad forehead, white as marble,
was fully revealed.
"Our meeting must be brief," he said. "Are you prepared to fulfil the
compact?"
"What do you require?" replied Auriol.
"Possession of the girl I saw three days ago," said the other; "the
iron-merchant's daughter, Ebba. She must be mine."
"Never!" cried Auriol firmly--"never!"
"Beware how you tempt me to exert my power," said the stranger; "she
_must_ be mine--or----"
"I defy you!" rejoined Auriol; "I will never consent."
"Fool!" cried the other, seizing him by the arm, and fixing a withering
glance upon him. "Bring her to me ere the week be out, or dread my
vengeance!"
And, enveloping himself in his cloak, he retreated behind the statue,
and was lost to view.
As he disappeared, a moaning wind arose, and heavy rain descended. Still
Auriol did not quit the bench.