Miss Jillgall appears again, after an interval, on the field of my
extracts. My pleasant friend deserves this time a serious reception. She
informs me that Mrs. Tenbruggen has begun the inquiries which I have the
best reason to dread--for I alone know the end which they are designed
to reach.
The arrival of this news affected me in two different ways.
It was discouraging to find that circumstances had not justified my
reliance on Helena’s enmity as a counter-influence to Mrs. Tenbruggen.
On the other hand, it was a relief to be assured that my return to
London would serve, rather than compromise, the interests which it was
my chief anxiety to defend. I had foreseen that Mrs. Tenbruggen would
wait to set her enterprise on foot, until I was out of her way; and I
had calculated on my absence as an event which would at least put an end
to suspense by encouraging her to begin.
The first sentences in Miss Jillgall’s letter explain the nature of her
interest in the proceedings of her friend, and are, on that account,
worth reading.
“Things are sadly changed for the worse” (Selina writes); “but I don’t
forget that Philip was once engaged to Euneece, and that Mr. Gracedieu’s
extraordinary conduct toward him puzzled us all. The mode of discovery
which dear Elizabeth suggested by letter, at that time, appears to be
the mode which she is following now. When I asked why, she said: ‘Philip
may return to Euneece; the Minister may recover--and will be all the
more likely to do so if he tries Massage. In that case, he will probably
repeat the conduct which surprised you; and your natural curiosity will
ask me again to find out what it means. Am I your friend, Selina, or am
I not?’ This was so delightfully kind, and so irresistibly conclusive,
that I kissed her in a transport of gratitude. With what breathless
interest I have watched her progress toward penetrating the mystery of
the girls’ ages, it is quite needless to tell you.”
.......
Mrs. Tenbruggen’s method of keeping Miss Jillgall in ignorance of what
she was really about, and Miss Jillgall’s admirable confidence in the
integrity of Mrs. Tenbruggen, being now set forth on the best authority,
an exact presentation of the state of affairs will be completed if I
add a word more, relating to the positions actually occupied toward Mrs.
Tenbruggen’s enterprise, by my correspondent and myself.
On her side, Miss Jillgall was entirely ignorant that one of the two
girls was not Mr. Gracedieu’s daughter, but his adopted child. On
my side, I was entirely ignorant of Mrs. Tenbruggen’s purpose in
endeavoring to identify the daughter of the murderess. Speaking of
myself, individually, let me add that I only waited the event to protect
the helpless ones--my poor demented friend, and the orphan whom his
mercy received into his heart and his home.
Miss Jillgall goes on with her curious story, as follows:
.......
“Always desirous of making myself useful, I thought I would give my dear
Elizabeth a hint which might save time and trouble. ‘Why not begin,’ I
suggested, ‘by asking the Governor to help you?’ That wonderful woman
never forgets anything. She had already applied to you, without success.
“In my next attempt to be useful, I did violence to my most cherished
convictions, by presenting the wretch Helena to the admirable Elizabeth.
That the former would be cold as ice, in her reception of any friend
of mine, was nothing wonderful. Mrs. Tenbruggen passed it over with
the graceful composure of a woman of the world. In the course of
conversation with Helena, she slipped in a question: ‘Might I ask if you
are older than your sister?’ The answer was, of course: ‘I don’t know.’
And here, for once, the most deceitful girl in existence spoke the
truth.
“When we were alone again, Elizabeth made a remark: ‘If personal
appearance could decide the question,’ she said, ‘the disagreeable young
woman is the oldest of the two. The next thing to be done is to discover
if looks are to be trusted in this case.’
“My friend’s lawyer received confidential instructions (not shown to me,
which seems rather hard) to trace the two Miss Gracedieus’ registers of
birth. Elizabeth described this proceeding (not very intelligibly to my
mind) as a means of finding out which of the girls could be identified
by name as the elder of the two.
“The report arrived this morning. I was only informed that the result,
in one case, had entirely defeated the inquiries. In the other case,
Elizabeth had helped her agent by referring him to a Birth, advertised
in the customary columns of the _Times_ newspaper. Even here, there
was a fatal obstacle. The name of the place in which Mr. Gracedieu’s
daughter had been born was not added, as usual. I still tried to be
useful. Had my friend known the Minister’s wife? My friend had never
even seen the Minister’s wife. And, as if by a fatality, her portrait
was no longer in existence. I could only mention that Helena was like
her mother. But Elizabeth seemed to attach very little importance to my
evidence, if I may call it by so grand a name. ‘People have such strange
ideas about likenesses,’ she said, ‘and arrive at such contradictory
conclusions. One can only trust one’s own eyes in a matter of that
kind.’
“My friend next asked me about our domestic establishment. We had only a
cook and a housemaid. If they were old servants who had known the girls
as children, they might be made of some use. Our luck was as steadily
against us as ever. They had both been engaged when Mr. Gracedieu
assumed his new pastoral duties, after having resided with his wife at
her native place.
“I asked Elizabeth what she proposed to do next.
“She deferred her answer, until I had first told her whether the visit
of the doctor might be expected on that day. I could reply to this in
the negative. Elizabeth, thereupon, made a startling request; she begged
me to introduce her to Mr. Gracedieu.
“I said: ‘Surely, you have forgotten the sad state of his mind?’ No;
she knew perfectly well that he was imbecile. ‘I want to try,’ she
explained, ‘if I can rouse him for a few minutes.’
“‘By Massage?’ I inquired.
“She burst out laughing. ‘Massage, my dear, doesn’t act in that way. It
is an elaborate process, pursued patiently for weeks together. But my
hands have more than one accomplishment at their finger-ends. Oh, make
your mind easy! I shall do no harm, if I do no good. Take me, Selina, to
the Minister.’
“We went to his room. Don’t blame me for giving way; I am too fond of
Elizabeth to be able to disappoint her.
“It was a sad sight when we went in. He was quite happy, playing like
a child, at cup-and-ball. The attendant retired at my request. I
introduced Mrs. Tenbruggen. He smiled and shook hands with her. He said:
‘Are you a Christian or a Pagan? You are very pretty. How many times can
you catch the ball in the cup?’ The effort to talk to her ended there.
He went on with his game, and seemed to forget that there was anybody in
the room. It made my heart ache to remember what he was--and to see him
now.
“Elizabeth whispered: ‘Leave me alone with him.’
“I don’t know why I did such a rude thing--I hesitated.
“Elizabeth asked me if I had no confidence in her. I was ashamed of
myself; I left them together.
“A long half-hour passed. Feeling a little uneasy, I went upstairs
again and looked into the room. He was leaning back in his chair; his
plaything was on the floor, and he was looking vacantly at the light
that came in through the window. I found Mrs. Tenbruggen at the other
end of the room, in the act of ringing the bell. Nothing in the least
out of the ordinary way seemed to have happened. When the attendant
had answered the bell, we left the room together. Mr. Gracedieu took no
notice of us.
“‘Well,’ I said, ‘how has it ended?’
“Quite calmly my noble Elizabeth answered: ‘In total failure.’
“‘What did you say to him after you sent me away?’
“‘I tried, in every possible way, to get him to tell me which of his two
daughters was the oldest.’
“‘Did he refuse to answer?’
“‘He was only too ready to answer. First, he said Helena was the
oldest--then he corrected himself, and declared that Eunice was the
oldest--then he said they were twins--then he went back to Helena and
Eunice. Now one was the oldest, and now the other. He rang the changes
on those two names, I can’t tell you how often, and seemed to think it a
better game than cup-and-ball.’
“‘What is to be done?’
“‘Nothing is to be done, Selina.’
“‘What!’ I cried, ‘you give it up?’
“My heroic friend answered: ‘I know when I am beaten, my dear--I give it
up.’ She looked at her watch; it was time to operate on the muscles of
one of her patients. Away she went, on her glorious mission of Massage,
without a murmur of regret. What strength of mind! But, oh, dear, what
a disappointment for poor little me! On one thing I am determined. If
I find myself getting puzzled or frightened, I shall instantly write to
you.”
With that expression of confidence in me, Selina’s narrative came to an
end. I wish I could have believed, as she did, that the object of her
admiration had been telling her the truth.
A few days later, Mrs. Tenbruggen honored me with a visit at my house
in the neighborhood of London. Thanks to this circumstance, I am able to
add a postscript which will complete the revelations in Miss Jillgall’s
letter.
The illustrious Masseuse, having much to conceal from her faithful
Selina, was well aware that she had only one thing to keep hidden from
me; namely, the advantage which she would have gained if her inquiries
had met with success.
“I thought I might have got at what I wanted,” she told me, “by
mesmerizing our reverend friend. He is as weak as a woman; I threw him
into hysterics, and had to give it up, and quiet him, or he would have
alarmed the house. You look as if you don’t believe in mesmerism.”
“My looks, Mrs. Tenbruggen, exactly express my opinion. Mesmerism is a
humbug!”
“You amusing old Tory! Shall I throw you into a state of trance? No!
I’ll give you a shock of another kind--a shock of surprise. I know as
much as you do about Mr. Gracedieu’s daughters. What do you think of
that?”
“I think I should like to hear you tell me, which is the adopted child.”
“Helena, to be sure!”
Her manner was defiant, her tone was positive; I doubted both. Under the
surface of her assumed confidence, I saw something which told me that
she was trying to read my thoughts in my face. Many other women had
tried to do that. They succeeded when I was young. When I had reached
the wrong side of fifty, my face had learned discretion, and they
failed.
“How did you arrive at your discovery?” I asked. “I know of nobody who
could have helped you.”
“I helped myself, sir! I reasoned it out. A wonderful thing for a woman
to do, isn’t it? I wonder whether you could follow the process?”
My reply to this was made by a bow. I was sure of my command over my
face; but perfect control of the voice is a rare power. Here and there,
a great actor or a great criminal possesses it.
Mrs. Tenbruggen’s vanity took me into her confidence. “In the first
place,” she said, “Helena is plainly the wicked one of the two. I was
not prejudiced by what Selina had told me of her: I saw it, and felt
it, before I had been five minutes in her company. If lying tongues ever
provoke her as lying tongues provoked her mother, she will follow her
mother’s example. Very well. Now--in the second place--though it is
very slight, there is a certain something in her hair and her complexion
which reminds me of the murderess: there is no other resemblance,
I admit. In the third place, the girls’ names point to the same
conclusion. Mr. Gracedieu is a Protestant and a Dissenter. Would he call
a child of his own by the name of a Roman Catholic saint? No! he would
prefer a name in the Bible; Eunice is _his_ child. And Helena was once
the baby whom I carried into the prison. Do you deny that?”
“I don’t deny it.”
Only four words! But they were deceitfully spoken, and the
deceit--practiced in Eunice’s interest, it is needless to
say--succeeded. Mrs. Tenbruggen’s object in visiting me was attained;
I had confirmed her belief in the delusion that Helena was the adopted
child.
She got up to take her leave. I asked if she proposed remaining in
London. No; she was returning to her country patients that night.
As I attended her to the house-door, she turned to me with her
mischievous smile. “I have taken some trouble in finding the clew to the
Minister’s mystery,” she said. “Don’t you wonder why?”
“If I did wonder,” I answered, “would you tell me why?”
She laughed at the bare idea of it. “Another lesson,” she said, “to
assist a helpless man in studying the weaker sex. I have already shown
you that a woman can reason. Learn next that a woman can keep a secret.
Good-by. God bless you!”
Of the events which followed Mrs. Tenbruggen’s visit it is not possible
for me, I am thankful to say, to speak from personal experience. Ought I
to conclude with an expression of repentance for the act of deception
to which I have already pleaded guilty? I don’t know. Yes! the force of
circumstances does really compel me to say it, and say it seriously--I
declare, on my word of honor, I don’t know.
Third period: 1876. _HELENA’S DIARY RESUMED._