Tempest.
"Does Mr. Guy Deverell know anything of the measures you contemplate in
his behalf?" inquired the attorney.
"Nothing. Do you think me a fool? Young men _are_ such asses!"
"You know, however, of course, that he will act. The proceedings, you
know, must be in his name."
"Leave that to me."
Varbarriere rang the bell and ordered luncheon. There were grouse and
trout--he was in luck--and some cream cheese, for which rural delicacy
he had a fancy. They brew very great ale at Slowton, like the Welsh, and
it was a novelty to the gentleman of foreign habits, who eat as
fastidiously as a Frenchman, and as largely as a German. On the whole it
was satisfactory, and the high-shouldered, Jewish-looking sybarite shook
hands in a very friendly way with his attorney in the afternoon, on the
platform at Slowton, and glided off toward Chester, into which ancient
town he thundered, screaming like a monster rushing on its prey; and a
victim awaited him in the old commercial hotel; a tall, white-headed
military-looking man, with a white moustache twirled up fiercely at the
corners; whose short pinkish face and grey eyes, as evening deepened,
were pretty constantly presented at the window of the coffee-room next
the street door of the inn. From that post he saw all the shops and
gas-lamps, up and down the street, gradually lighted. The gaselier in
the centre of the coffee-room, with its six muffed glass globes, flared
up over the rumpled and coffee-stained morning newspapers and the
almanac, and the battered and dissipated-looking railway guide, with
corners curled and back coming to pieces, which he consulted every ten
minutes through his glasses.
How many consultations he had had with the waiter upon the arrival of
trains due at various hours, and how often the injunction had been
repeated to see that no mistake occurred about the private room he had
ordered; and how reiterated the order that any gentleman inquiring for
General Lennox should be shown at once into his presence, the patient
waiter with the bilious complexion could tell.
As the time drew near, the General having again conferred with the
waiter, conversed with the porter, and even talked a little with
Boots--withdrew to his small square sitting-room and pair of candles
up-stairs, and awaited the arrival of Monsieur Varbarriere, with his
back to the fire, in a state of extreme fidget.
That gentleman's voice he soon heard upon the passage, and the creaking
of his heavy tread; and he felt as he used, when a young soldier, on
going into action.
The General stepped forward. The waiter announced a gentleman who wished
to see him; and Varbarriere's dark visage and mufflers, and sable mantle
loomed behind; his felt hat in his hand, and his wavy cone of grizzled
hair was bowing solemnly.
"Glad you're come--how d'ye do?" and Varbarriere's fat brown hand was
seized by the General's pink and knotted fingers in a very cold and damp
grasp. "Come in and sit down, sir. What will you take?--tea, or dinner,
or what?"
"Very much obliged. I have ordered something, by-and-by, to my
room--thank you very much. I thought, however, that you might possibly
wish to see me immediately, and so I am here, at all events, as you
soldiers say, to report myself," said Varbarriere, with his unctuous
politeness.
"Yes, it _is_ better, I'd rather have it now," answered the General in a
less polite and more literal way. "A chair, sir;" and he placed one
before the fire, which he poked into a blaze. "I--I hope you are not
fatigued,"--here the door shut, and the waiter was gone; "and I want to
hear, sir, if you please, the--the meaning of the letter you favoured me
with."
The General by this time had it in his hand open, and tendered it, I
suppose for identification, to M. Varbarriere, who, however, politely
waved it back.
"I quite felt the responsibility I took upon myself when I wrote as I
did. That responsibility of course I accept; and I have come all this
way, sir, for no other purpose than to justify my expressions, and to
invite you to bring them to the test."
"Of _course_, sir. Thank you," said the General.
Varbarriere had felt a momentary qualm about this particular branch of
the business which he had cut out for himself. When he wrote to General
Lennox he was morally _certain_ of the existence of a secret passage
into that green room, and also of the relations which he had for some
time suspected between Sir Jekyl and his fair guest. On the whole it was
not a bad _coup_ to provide, by means of the old General's jealousy,
such literal proof as he still required of the concealed entrance,
through which so much villany had been accomplished--and so his
letter--and now its consequences--about which it was too late to think.
General Lennox, standing by the table, with one candle on the
chimneypiece and his glasses to his eyes, read aloud, with some little
stumbling, these words from the letter of Monsieur Varbarriere:--
"The reason of my so doing will be obvious when I say that I have
certain circumstances to lay before you which nearly affect your honour.
I decline making any detailed statement by letter; nor will I explain my
meaning at Marlowe Manor. But if, without _fracas_, you will give me a
private meeting, at any place between this and London, I will make it my
business to see you, when I shall satisfy you that I have not made this
request without the gravest reasons."
"Those are the passages, sir, on which you are so good as to offer me an
explanation; and first, there's the phrase, you know, 'certain
circumstances to lay before you which nearly affect your _honour_;'
that's a word, you know, sir, that a fellow _feels_ in a way--in a way
that can't be triffled with."
"Certainly. Put your question, General Lennox, how you please," answered
Varbarriere, with a grave bow.
"Well, how--how--exactly--I'll--I will put my question. I'd like to
know, sir, in what relation--in--yes--in what relation, as a soldier,
sir, or as a gentleman, sir, or as--_what_?"
"I am very much concerned to say, sir, that it is in the very nearest
and most sacred interest, sir--as a _husband_."
General Lennox had sat down by this time, and was gazing with a frank
stern stare full into the dark countenance of his visitor; and in reply
he made two short little nods, clearing his voice, and lowering his eyes
to the table.
It was a very trifling way of taking it. But Varbarriere saw his face
flush fiercely up to the very roots of his silver hair, and he fancied
he could see the vessels throbbing in his temples.
"I--very good, sir--thank you," said the General, looking up fiercely
and shaking his ears, but speaking in a calm tone.
"Go on, pray--let me know--I say--in God's name, don't keep me."
"Now, sir, I'll tell it to you briefly--I'll afterwards go into whatever
proof you desire. I have reason, I deeply regret it, to believe--in fact
to know--that an immoral intimacy exists between Sir Jekyl Marlowe and
Lady Jane Lennox."
"It's a lie, sir!" screamed the General--"a damned lie, sir--a damned
lie, sir--a _damned_ lie, sir."
His gouty claw was advanced trembling as if to clutch the muffler that
was folded about Monsieur Varbarriere's throat, but he dropped back in
his seat again shaking, and ran his fingers through his white hair
several times. There was a silence which even M. Varbarriere did not
like.
Varbarriere was not the least offended at his violence. He knew quite
well that the General did not understand what he said, or mean, or
remember it--that it was only the wild protest of agony. For the first
time he felt a compunction about that old foozle, who had hitherto
somehow counted for nothing in the game he was playing, and he saw him,
years after, as he had shrieked at him that night, with his claw
stretched towards his throat, ludicrous, and also terrible.
"My God! sir," cried the old man, with a quaver that sounded like a
laugh, "do you tell me so?"
"It's true, sir," said Varbarriere.
"Now, sir, I'll not interrupt you--tell all, pray--hide nothing," said
the General.
"I was, sir, accidentally witness to a conversation which is capable of
no other interpretation; and I have legal proof of the existence of a
secret door, connecting the apartment which has been assigned to you, at
Marlowe, with Sir Jekyl's room."
"The damned villain! What a fool," and then very fiercely he suddenly
added, "You can prove all this, sir? I hope you can."
"All this, and more, sir. I suspect, sir, there will hardly be an
attempt to deny it."
"Oh, sir, it's terrible; but I was such a fool. I had no business--I
deserve it all. Who'd have imagined such villains? But, d---- me, sir, I
can't believe it."
There was a tone of anguish in the old man's voice which made even his
grotesque and feeble talk terrible.
"I say there can't be such devils on earth;" and then he broke into an
incoherent story of all his trust and love, and all that Jane owed him,
and of her nature which was frank and generous, and how she never hid a
thought from him--open as heaven, sir. What business was it of his,
d---- him! What did he mean by trying to set a man against his wife? No
one but a scoundrel ever did it.
Varbarriere stood erect.
"You may submit how you like, sir, to your fate; but you shan't insult
me, sir, without answering it. My note left it optional to you to exact
my information or to remain in the darkness, which it seems you prefer.
If you wish it, I'll make my bow--it's nothing to me, but two can play
at that game. I've fought perhaps oftener than you, and you shan't bully
_me_."
"I suppose you're right, sir--don't go, pray--I think I'm half _mad_,
sir," said General Lennox, despairingly.
"Sir, I make allowance--I forgive your language, but if you want to talk
to me, it must be with proper respect. I'm as good a gentleman as you;
my statement is, of course, strictly true, and if you please you can
test it."