Next day I waited again--and the next, and the next; and no Lucy Ashton,
or rather no Betsy Juffles, came. The next day was Friday--my birthday.
I had much to do; my father was resolved to celebrate the great event by
a solemn dinner _tete-a-tete_, during which he was to communicate his
final decision with respect to my future pursuits. I hurried to the
Wilderness in the morning--no success--and in despair betook myself once
more to Mr Dobble. That gentleman's dovetailed observations were by no
means elucidatory on the point I came to clear up. He did not know the
names of all the members of any of the families--he had never heard of
any persons of the name of Higginson or Wilcox--he knew nothing of the
colour of people's eyes--and did not recollect whether any one member of
his flock had red hair or black. How difficult to take the commonest
observations in the cold northern latitude of forty-five! But one thing
at last I discovered; the Juffleses were to leave on the following
day--the Poggses had been gone since Tuesday.
"By the by," he said, after this information; "you are much indebted to
your cousin, young Jeeks--I never knew till lately he had the honour to
be a relation."
"I never knew it, sir; and certainly make no claim."
"But you ought, my good sir, after the service he did you on Monday"----
"What service, sir? I am not aware of any."
"Indeed? That's most extraordinary! I understood he interfered, and
saved you from a personal assault."
"He?"
"Yes! And he certainly bears marks of his efforts on your behalf. By the
by, the Ministry seems tottering."
"I thought you said, Mr Dobble, this Mr Jeeks pretends to be my
relation. Did he ever tell you by what means, or in what degree?
"Yes; but I am no herald. Some old lady long ago married a person who
had a daughter, who had another daughter, who had a son who is the
father of old Mr Jeeks, who made an immense fortune at Canton. Opium, I
am afraid--more opium than tea."
"It does not seem alarmingly near, at all events; and I beg to assure
you that the interference he talks of on my behalf, was of such a
nature, that it is of my gratitude he bears the emblems which he
attributes to his friendly zeal."
I hurried from the parsonage. I had not an hour to spare; but an
irresistible attraction drew me to the wood--and there, in the rural
seat, was Lucy Ashton once more! She saw some change in my countenance,
and spoke in a different tone from what I had ever heard her before.
"I am afraid I have been very imprudent, Mr Rayleigh, in carrying on our
acquaintance so long; but I am come to bid you farewell--probably for
ever!"
I looked at the moistening eyes of the fair speaker--but steeled my
heart against her arts.
"You have tried to break me in to the loss of your society by degrees;
you have not come here for three days."
"I was busy--disagreeable things occurred at home--I had no opportunity.
But it is better as it is--we must now part, and I hope you will forget
me"----
"Forget you! That is impossible. But I shall try to find methods of
enduring the separation."
"I trust you will--I did not mean to part from you in unkindness: your
voice is altered--your eyes are changed"----
"Because I am Edgar Ravenswood no longer; nor you Lucy Ashton. You made
me know, for the first time in my life, what it was to have a true and
absorbing attachment. I worshipped you with the fervour of a boy--I
loved you with the sincerity of a man. You played me off for the
gratification of your paltry triumph over affections that were too
valuable to be wasted on a flirt. I have heard of the assize ball--I
have heard of young Jeeks--I have unmasked you, and you are Betsy
Juffles."
A glance--bright and sparkling, but instantly subdued--appeared for a
moment in her eyes, which now swam in tears.
"Be it so, then. If I were to stay longer in this part of the world, I
might perhaps try to set myself right in your eyes; but as it is"----she
paused, and sighed.
"You go then soon?"
"I go to-morrow."
There could no longer be a doubt. Mr Dobble had told me the Juffleses
removed on Saturday. I saw what a consummate actress I was opposed to,
and hardened my heart more and more. We had come by this time to the
gate into the field; I held it open for her as she passed, but said not
a word: I then rushed back to the place we had so often met, threw
myself on the ground, and cursed Poggses, Jeekses, and Juffleses, with
as much earnest devotion as my father himself could have required.
But in the midst of all these maledictions rose up every now and then a
doubt--was she Betsy Juffles?--was she a flirt?--had she ogled young
Jeeks?--had she made a fool of me?--or was she indeed the bright pure
captivating Lucy Ashton I had known, the clever, the warm-hearted, the
good? Oh, if she was, and I had cast her off, and made myself a cold
iron-hearted brute, at the whisper of a wretch like Jeeks! I made a vow
that, if I found he had deceived me, I would finish the sacrifice
commenced on Monday, and tear him limb from limb. That night and many
nights--a month, a quarter of a year--passed in earnest consultations
with my father. I read, but no longer the Waverley Novels: I attended to
the farm--I was busy--useful; I felt I could get over Euclid if I chose,
but I hated him and all his propositions. The winter came: I worked
hard; I had found my deficiencies in conversation with my fascinating
deceiver--and the more my mind enlarged, the more it dwelt on the
thousand charms of thought and expression that had passed unheeded at
the time. I could recall every look, every smile, every tone; and when
the early leaves began to bud, when the grass was green again, and the
snow had disappeared from the highest hills, I had made up my mind that
without Betsy Juffles, flirt or no flirt, life was not worth having;
and I resolved to find her out, wherever she was, and tell her so. Mr
Dobble informed me that Mr Juffles resided in a bow-windowed villa near
Bushy Park, called Verbena Lodge; and thither I determined to go. My
father wished me to go to London to make arrangements for beginning the
study of the law, and in the early weeks of March I found myself in the
great city; but though I saw St Paul's, Westminster Abbey, and the
Temple and the Tower, with my bodily eyes, my thoughts dwelt for ever on
the bow-windowed villa near Bushy Park. I left the smoke, the noise, and
all chances of the wealth of modern Rome, behind me, and installed
myself in a comfortable lodging at Hampton Wick. I became one of the
rangers of Bushy Park, without the queen's signature to my appointment.
I passed and repassed Verbena Lodge, but saw nobody at the windows; I
meditated even on the expediency of making my way into the house, on
pretence of a message from Mr Dobble; when----once upon a time in the
merry month of May, beneath a stately tree, musing and alone, I say, in
the heart of Bushy Park, the unmistakable figure--the unmistakable face
of Lucy Ashton, radiant, smiling, beautiful as of old.
"I thought you wouldn't forget me quite," she said, and held out her
hand.
"I was an ass--a fool!" I began.
"But you have grown wiser now?" she enquired.
"Yes, wise enough to despise balls, Jeekses, officers--and throw myself
at once and for ever at the feet of Lucy Ashton."
"What will Betsy Juffles say?"
"I hope she'll say _yes_."
"Well, perhaps I may answer for her--I don't see what right _she_ has to
object to any thing that pleases _me_."
"She's a charming girl, and I hope you will be guided by her in every
thing."
"Such as?"--she asked with a smile that made us feel we had never
quarreled, never parted, but were at home in the Wilderness. I need not
tell the answer. I had got quit of my bashfulness on the subject of
Gretna Green and postchaises with a vengeance; and then and there I
suggested a trip to that delectable region, and scorned all the
objections she attempted to make about our respective fathers, and
family quarrels, and all the chimeras that disappear before the breath
of true love like mists before the sun. We met every day for a week, and
I so surprisingly improved in eloquence, that I should certainly have
forced my way to the woolsack if I had employed one half of it at the
bar. At all events, I succeeded in my object with Lucy Ashton so far,
that she agreed to accept me for better or worse; and then, for the
first time, it occurred to me, I ought to make my father acquainted with
the great step I intended to take in prosecution of my legal studies.
"Ah, Edgar, don't write letters! half an hour's conversation will
explain every thing better than twenty reams of paper. Go down to
Rayleigh, and tell him all."
"All what? you forget I have nothing to tell."
"Tell him you are resolved to marry a girl who will make you happy."
"And your family?" I said; "he can't endure the very name of Juffles."
"Say nothing about them. Ask leave for me to go down and see him: I feel
sure he will like me, and forgive you all."
I resolved to obey; and with infinite regret tore myself away, and
seated myself in the railway carriage. I was only to be absent two days;
but two days in such circumstances are a century. The bell rang, the
train began imperceptibly to move, when two tardy passengers jumped into
the coach; and in the first I recognised my friend, young Mr Jeeks. If I
had had it in my power, I would have left the carriage; for I was in no
frame of mind to be pestered by a popinjay.
"Goodness me! how odd!" he said; "Quite a family party this is. My
cousin Mr Rayleigh, Mr Shookers--Mr Shookers, my cousin Mr Rayleigh.
It's quite pleasant to be among one's relations."
The other man, answering to the name of Mr Shookers, bowed at this
introduction, and showed his teeth and a large portion of the gums in
the amplitude of his smile. He was a short stout man, with a very broad
face, which was still further distended by a forest of red whiskers on
each cheek. I took no notice of his salutation, but looked as
indignantly as I could at the insufferable Jeeks.
"You don't seem very friendly, which is highly against the rules or
philosophy," he continued; "but p'r'aps you don't know much of your own
genealogical tree. My friend Shookers has studied heraldry, and knows
very well how nearly related we are."
"Did you address any of your observations to me, sir?"
"Didn't I? to be sure I did. There was a certain Arabella Rayleigh in
_Temp. Geo. Prim._, that means in the time of George I. or II., I forget
which--but it is ages ago--that married Martin Hicks, and had a
daughter, who married in _Temp._ of another of the _Geos_ John Smith,
and had a daughter; which married James Brown, and had a daughter; which
married grandfather, Thomas Jeeks, in _Temp. Geo. Tert._--which makes us
cousins; and that's the reason why father thinks it so hard your old
governor won't part with the rest of the lands. Isn't it too bad, Mr
Shookers?"
"It seems very unfriendly in old Rayleigh to keep such a hold on the
property, when Mr Jeeks is willing to buy him off."
"Are you aware, sir, in whose presence you allow yourself such vulgar
and insulting language? I am Mr Rayleigh's son."
"Well, and I'm his cousin," interposed young Jeek; "and it's rather hard
if a man can't stand a word or two about his relations. I don't care
what Shookers may say about my cousin. I have too much philosophy to
care."
Mr Shookers, however, took the hint, and made no further observation on
the subject. I looked out of the window, and endeavoured to abstract my
thoughts from the conversation of my companions; but it was impossible.
I kept my looks turned to the window; but I soon began to listen with
all my ears.
"You'll find it uncommon hot at Singapore," said Mr Jeeks. "It's always
the dog-days there; but all the Juffleses can stand fire like reg'lar
bricks, as they are."
"I like it," replied Mr Shookers; "and I am very much obligated to your
father."
"He's a trump, is the old fellow--he's out of business himself--wound
all up at Canton; but his interest will do great things for you at
Singapore."
"Oh! I consider my fortune made; and I am sure we shall both be grateful
to him till the end of time."
"Ah, you're a lucky chap to get such a girl persuaded to go with you so
far! But I always said Betsy had all the pluck of the family."
I half looked round--and Mr Jeeks favoured me with a wink, which implied
that he would keep the secret of my acquaintance with the Juffles's
family a secret from his friend.
"She's full of spirit," replied Mr Shookers.
"And so clever, too," added Mr Jeeks; "so sentimental and all that. No
end of walks in woods. I wonder she hasn't tired poor Amy to death.
She's taken to it as bad as ever lately again, and takes no end of
rambles in Bushy Park. You're a lucky fellow, Shookers; for I'm sure
she's thinking of you all the time she's pacing up and down among the
trees."
"She had better take as much as she can of the trees," answered the
lover; "there's no great temptation to ramble in Singapore. She won't
have much more of it, for we must sail in the next ship."
"I always said Betsy Juffles would make a good marriage after
all--though she's such a comical girl, I shouldn't be surprised if she
carried on her jokes to the very last, and pretended to care about some
of her old admirers even now."
"She's very welcome," said Mr Shookers; "it's reg'lar good fun seeing
her trot out a spoony. How she makes us laugh, to be sure!"
The two gentlemen seemed so overcome with the facetiousness of their
recollections, that they broke into a laugh that lasted nearly a mile.
I felt somewhat in the situation of Scrub. "Could they be laughing at
me? Was I again the victim of a consummate actress?"
"Old Juffles comes it handsome, I hope?" said Mr Jeeks.
"I'm perfectly satisfied at all events," replied his friend. "He gives
me a trifle on the wedding-day, and makes a good settlement besides."
"When is the wedding?"
"It is fixed for this day month, the fourteenth of May. We embark on the
next day, and drop down to Gravesend. Aren't you asked to attend?"
"Oh, we're all coming--governor and all! I don't see why my cousin
opposite should not get an invite too. But he has been looking out of
the window so hard, he hasn't heard a word of what we've said. Oh, of
course not!"
"If you would like to come to it, sir," said Mr Shookers, who sat on the
same side with me, _vis-a-vis_ with his friend, "I shall be very glad;
and I feel sure I can answer for Betsy too, sir."
"Don't be too sure of that," interrupted Mr Jeeks. "It takes a deal of
philosophy to do things of the kind."
"You seem to be asking me to some meeting, sir. May I beg you to
understand, once for all, that I have nothing whatever to say to this
most contemptible poltroon, Mr Jeeks, nor to any of his friends."
"I was going to ask you to my marriage, sir; and if you had been a
gentleman, or behaved as such"----
I felt my hands clutching with an irrepressible desire to seize Mr
Shookers by the throat; but I had no time. Before he had an opportunity
to complete his speech, a sound, as of an avalanche and earthquake, all
in one, was heard--a shock, as of contending thunderbolts, shook the
train, and the last thing I saw was the head and body of Mr Jeeks
propelled, with the force and velocity of a rocket, against the
expansive countenance of Mr Shookers. My own forehead was dashed against
the opposite side, and I was insensible. There had been a collision
between two trains. I recollect no more.