laughter; but he was himself in a hurry to be gone, and without more
delay produced the money. "You will find the sum, I trust, correct," he
observed; "and let me ask you to give me a receipt."
But the man heeded him not. He seized the money, and disregarding the
sovereigns that rolled loose upon the floor, thrust the bundle of notes
into his pocket.
"A receipt," repeated Challoner, with some asperity. "I insist on a
receipt."
"Receipt?" repeated the man, a little wildly. "A receipt? Immediately!
Await me here."
Challoner, in reply, begged the gentleman to lose no unnecessary time,
as he was himself desirous of catching a particular train.
"Ah, by God, and so am I!" exclaimed the man with the chin-beard; and
with that he was gone out of the room, and had rattled upstairs, four at
a time, to the upper story of the villa.
"This is certainly a most amazing business," thought Challoner;
"certainly a most disquieting affair; and I cannot conceal from myself
that I have become mixed up with either lunatics or malefactors. I may
truly thank my stars that I am so nearly and so creditably done with
it." Thus thinking, and perhaps remembering the episode of the whistle,
he turned to the open window. The garden was still faintly clear; he
could distinguish the stairs and terraces with which the small domain
had been adorned by former owners, and the blackened bushes and dead
trees that had once afforded shelter to the country birds; beyond these
he saw the strong retaining wall, some thirty feet in height, which
enclosed the garden to the back; and again above that, the pile of dingy
buildings rearing its frontage high into the night. A peculiar object
lying stretched upon the lawn for some time baffled his eyesight; but at
length he had made it out to be a long ladder, or series of ladders
bound into one; and he was still wondering of what service so great an
instrument could be in such a scant enclosure, when he was recalled to
himself by the noise of some one running violently down the stairs. This
was followed by the sudden, clamorous banging of the house door; and
that again, by rapid and retreating footsteps in the street.
Challoner sprang into the passage. He ran from room to room, upstairs
and downstairs; and in that old dingy and worm-eaten house, he found
himself alone. Only in one apartment looking to the front were there any
traces of the late inhabitant: a bed that had been recently slept in and
not made, a chest of drawers disordered by a hasty search and on the
floor a roll of crumpled paper. This he picked up. The light in this
upper story looking to the front was considerably brighter than in the
parlour; and he was able to make out that the paper bore the mark of the
hotel at Euston, and even, by peering closely, to decipher the following
lines in a very elegant and careful female hand:
"DEAR M'GUIRE,--It is certain your retreat is known. We have just had
another failure, clockwork thirty hours too soon, with the usual
humiliating result. Zero is quite disheartened. We are all scattered,
and I could find no one but the _solemn ass_ who brings you this and
the money. I would love to see your meeting.--Ever yours,
"SHINING EYE."
Challoner was stricken to the heart. He perceived by what facility, by
what unmanly fear of ridicule, he had been brought down to be the gull
of this intriguer; and his wrath flowed forth in almost equal measure
against himself, against the woman, and against Somerset, whose idle
counsels had impelled him to embark on that adventure. At the same time
a great and troubled curiosity, and a certain chill of fear, possessed
his spirits. The conduct of the man with the chin-beard, the terms of
the letter, and the explosion of the early morning, fitted together like
parts in some obscure and mischievous imbroglio. Evil was certainly
afoot; evil, secrecy, terror, and falsehood were the conditions and the
passions of the people among whom he had begun to move, like a blind
puppet; and he who began as a puppet, his experience told him, was often
doomed to perish as a victim.
From the stupor of deep thought into which he had glided with the letter
in his hand, he was awakened by the clatter of the bell. He glanced from
the window; and conceive his horror and surprise when he beheld,
clustered on the steps, in the front garden and on the pavement of the
street, a formidable posse of police! He started to the full possession
of his powers and courage. Escape, and escape at any cost, was the one
idea that possessed him. Swiftly and silently he redescended the
creaking stairs; he was already in the passage when a second and more
imperious summons from the door awoke the echoes of the empty house; nor
had the bell ceased to jangle before he had bestridden the window-sill
of the parlour and was lowering himself into the garden. His coat was
hooked upon the iron flower-basket; for a moment he hung dependent heels
and head below; and then, with the noise of rending cloth and followed
by several pots, he dropped upon the sod. Once more the bell was rung,
and now with furious and repeated peals. The desperate Challoner turned
his eyes on every side. They fell upon the ladder, and he ran to it, and
with strenuous but unavailing effort sought to raise it from the ground.
Suddenly the weight, which was thus resisting his whole strength, began
to lighten in his hands; the ladder, like a thing of life, reared its
bulk from off the sod; and Challoner, leaping back with a cry of almost
superstitious terror, beheld the whole structure mount, foot by foot,
against the face of the retaining-wall. At the same time, two heads were
dimly visible above the parapet, and he was hailed by a guarded whistle.
Something in its modulation recalled, like an echo, the whistle of the
man with the chin-beard.
Had he chanced upon a means of escape prepared beforehand by those very
miscreants, whose messenger and gull he had become? Was this, indeed, a
means of safety, or but the starting-point of further complication and
disaster? He paused not to reflect. Scarce was the ladder reared to its
full length than he had sprung already on the rounds; hand over hand,
swift as an ape, he scaled the tottering stairway. Strong arms received,
embraced, and helped him; he was lifted and set once more upon the
earth; and with the spasm of his alarm yet unsubsided, found himself, in
the company of two rough-looking men, in the paved back-yard of one of
the tall houses that crowned the summit of the hill. Meanwhile, from
below, the note of the bell had been succeeded by the sound of vigorous
and redoubling blows.
"Are you all out?" asked one of his companions; and as soon as he had
babbled an answer in the affirmative, the rope was cut from the top
round, and the ladder thrust roughly back into the garden, where it fell
and broke with clattering reverberations. Its fall was hailed with many
broken cries; for the whole of Richard Street was now in high emotion,
the people crowding to the windows or clambering on the garden walls.
The same man who had already addressed Challoner seized him by the arm;
whisked him through the basement of the house and across the street upon
the other side; and before the unfortunate adventurer had time to
realise his situation, a door was opened, and he was thrust into a low
and dark compartment.
"Bedad," observed his guide, "there was no time to lose. Is M'Guire
gone, or was it you that whistled?"
"M'Guire is gone," said Challoner.
The guide now struck a light. "Ah," said he, "this will never do. You
dare not go upon the streets in such a figure. Wait quietly here and I
will bring you something decent."
With that the man was gone, and Challoner, his attention thus rudely
awakened, began ruefully to consider the havoc that had been worked in
his attire. His hat was gone; his trousers were cruelly ripped; and the
best part of one tail of his very elegant frock-coat had been left
hanging from the iron crockets of the window. He had scarce had time to
measure these disasters when his host re-entered the apartment and
proceeded, without a word, to envelop the refined and urbane Challoner
in a long ulster of the cheapest material and of a pattern so gross and
vulgar that his spirit sickened at the sight. This calumnious disguise
was crowned and completed by a soft felt hat of the Tyrolese design and
several sizes too small. At another moment Challoner would simply have
refused to issue forth upon the world thus travestied; but the desire to
escape from Glasgow was now too strongly and too exclusively impressed
upon his mind. With one haggard glance at the spotted tails of his new
coat, he inquired what was to pay for this accoutrement. The man assured
him that the whole expense was easily met from funds in his possession,
and begged him, instead of wasting time, to make his best speed out of
the neighbourhood.
The young man was not loath to take the hint. True to his usual
courtesy, he thanked the speaker and complimented him upon his taste in
greatcoats; and leaving the man somewhat abashed by these remarks and
the manner of their delivery, he hurried forth into the lamp-lit city.
The last train was gone ere, after many deviations, he had reached the
terminus. Attired as he was he dared not present himself at any
reputable inn; and he felt keenly that the unassuming dignity of his
demeanour would serve to attract attention, perhaps mirth, and possibly
suspicion, in any humbler hostelry. He was thus condemned to pass the
solemn and uneventful hours of a whole night in pacing the streets of
Glasgow; supperless; a figure of fun for all beholders; waiting the
dawn, with hope indeed, but with unconquerable shrinkings; and above all
things, filled with a profound sense of the folly and weakness of his
conduct. It may be conceived with what curses he assailed the memory of
the fair narrator of Hyde Park; her parting laughter rang in his ears
all night with damning mockery and iteration; and when he could spare a
thought from this chief artificer of his confusion, it was to expend his
wrath on Somerset and the career of the amateur detective. With the
coming of the day, he found in a shy milk-shop the means to appease his
hunger. There were still many hours to wait before the departure of the
south express; these he passed wandering with indescribable fatigue in
the obscurer by-streets of the city; and at length slipped quietly into
the station and took his place in the darkest corner of a third-class
carriage. Here, all day long, he jolted on the bare boards, distressed
by heat and continually reawakened from uneasy slumbers. By the half
return ticket in his purse, he was entitled to make the journey on the
easy cushions and with the ample space of the first-class; but alas! in
his absurd attire, he durst not, for decency, commingle with his equals;
and this small annoyance, coming last in such a series of disasters, cut
him to the heart.
That night, when, in his Putney lodging, he reviewed the expense,
anxiety, and weariness of his adventure; when he beheld the ruins of his
last good trousers and his last presentable coat; and above all, when
his eye by any chance alighted on the Tyrolese hat or the degrading
ulster, his heart would overflow with bitterness, and it was only by a
serious call on his philosophy that he maintained the dignity of his
demeanour.
SOMERSET'S ADVENTURE
THE SUPERFLUOUS MANSION
Mr. Paul Somerset was a young gentleman of a lively and fiery
imagination, with very small capacity for action. He was one who lived
exclusively in dreams and in the future: the creature of his own
theories, and an actor in his own romances. From the cigar divan he
proceeded to parade the streets, still heated with the fire of his
eloquence, and scouting upon every side for the offer of some fortunate
adventure. In the continual stream of passers-by, on the sealed fronts
of houses, on the posters that covered the hoardings, and in every
lineament and throb of the great city, he saw a mysterious and hopeful
hieroglyph. But although the elements of adventure were streaming by him
as thick as drops of water in the Thames, it was in vain that, now with
a beseeching, now with something of a braggadocio air, he courted and
provoked the notice of the passengers; in vain that, putting fortune to
the touch, he even thrust himself into the way and came into direct
collision with those of the more promising demeanour. Persons brimful of
secrets, persons pining for affection, persons perishing for lack of
help or counsel, he was sure he could perceive on every side; but by
some contrariety of fortune, each passed upon his way without remarking
the young gentleman, and went farther (surely to fare worse!) in quest
of the confidant, the friend, or the adviser. To thousands he must have
turned an appealing countenance, and yet not one regarded him.
A light dinner, eaten to the accompaniment of his impetuous aspirations,
broke in upon the series of his attempts on fortune; and when he
returned to the task, the lamps were already lighted, and the nocturnal
crowd was dense upon the pavement. Before a certain restaurant, whose
name will readily occur to any student of our Babylon, people were
already packed so closely that passage had grown difficult; and
Somerset, standing in the kennel, watched, with a hope that was
beginning to grow somewhat weary, the faces and the manners of the
crowd. Suddenly he was startled by a gentle touch upon the shoulder, and
facing about, he was aware of a very plain and elegant brougham, drawn
by a pair of powerful horses, and driven by a man in sober livery. There
were no arms upon the panel; the window was open, but the interior was
obscure; the driver yawned behind his palm; and the young man was
already beginning to suppose himself the dupe of his own fancy, when a
hand, no larger than a child's and smoothly gloved in white, appeared in
a corner of the window and privily beckoned him to approach. He did so,
and looked in. The carriage was occupied by a single small and very
dainty figure, swathed head and shoulders in impenetrable folds of white
lace; and a voice, speaking low and silvery, addressed him in these
words:
"Open the door and get in."
"It must be," thought the young man, with an almost unbearable thrill,
"it must be that duchess at last!" Yet, although the moment was one to
which he had long looked forward, it was with a certain share of alarm
that he opened the door, and, mounting into the brougham, took his seat
beside the lady of the lace. Whether or no she had touched a spring, or
given some other signal, the young man had hardly closed the door before
the carriage, with considerable swiftness, and with a very luxurious and
easy movement on its springs, turned and began to drive towards the
west.
Somerset, as I have written, was not unprepared; it had long been his
particular pleasure to rehearse his conduct in the most unlikely
situations; and this, among others, of the patrician ravisher, was one
he had familiarly studied. Strange as it may seem, however, he could
find no apposite remark; and as the lady, on her side, vouchsafed no
further sign, they continued to drive in silence through the streets.
Except for alternate flashes from the passing lamps, the carriage was
plunged in obscurity; and beyond the fact that the fittings were
luxurious, and that the lady was singularly small and slender in person
and, all but one gloved hand, still swathed in her costly veil, the
young man could decipher no detail of an inspiring nature. The suspense
began to grow unbearable. Twice he cleared his throat, and twice the
whole resources of the language failed him. In similar scenes, when he
had forecast them on the theatre of fancy, his presence of mind had
always been complete, his eloquence remarkable; and at this disparity
between the rehearsal and the performance, he began to be seized with a
panic of apprehension. Here, on the very threshold of adventure, suppose
him ignominiously to fail; suppose that after ten, twenty, or sixty
seconds of still uninterrupted silence, the lady should touch the
check-string and re-deposit him, weighed and found wanting, on the
common street! Thousands of persons of no mind at all, he reasoned,
would be found more equal to the part; could, that very instant, by some
decisive step, prove the lady's choice to have been well inspired, and
put a stop to this intolerable silence.
His eye, at this point, lighted on the hand. It was better to fall by
desperate councils than to continue as he was; and with one tremulous
swoop he pounced on the gloved fingers and drew them to himself. One
overt step, it had appeared to him, would dissolve the spell of his
embarrassment; in act, he found it otherwise: he found himself no less
incapable of speech or further progress; and, with the lady's hand in
his, sat helpless. But worse was in store. A peculiar quivering began to
agitate the form of his companion; the hand that lay unresistingly in
Somerset's trembled as with ague; and presently there broke forth, in
the shadow of the carriage, the bubbling and musical sound of laughter,
resisted but triumphant. The young man dropped his prize; had it been
possible, he would have bounded from the carriage. The lady, meanwhile,
lying back upon the cushions, passed on from trill to trill of the most
heartfelt, high-pitched, clear, and fairy-sounding merriment.
"You must not be offended," she said at last, catching an opportunity
between two paroxysms. "If you have been mistaken in the warmth of your
attentions, the fault is solely mine; it does not flow from your
presumption, but from my eccentric manner of recruiting friends; and,
believe me, I am the last person in the world to think the worse of a
young man for showing spirit. As for to-night, it is my intention to
entertain you to a little supper; and if I shall continue to be as much
pleased with your manners as I was taken with your face, I may perhaps
end by making you an advantageous offer."
Somerset sought in vain to find some form of answer, but his
discomfiture had been too recent and complete.
"Come," returned the lady, "we must have no display of temper; that is
for me the one disqualifying fault; and as I perceive we are drawing
near our destination, I shall ask you to descend and offer me your arm."
Indeed, at that very moment the carriage drew up before a stately and
severe mansion in a spacious square; and Somerset, who was possessed of
an excellent temper, with the best grace in the world assisted the lady
to alight. The door was opened by an old woman of a grim appearance, who
ushered the pair into a dining-room somewhat dimly lighted, but already
laid for supper, and occupied by a prodigious company of large and
valuable cats. Here, as soon as they were alone, the lady divested
herself of the lace in which she was enfolded; and Somerset was relieved
to find, that although still bearing the traces of great beauty, and
still distinguished by the fire and colour of her eye, her hair was of
silvery whiteness and her face lined with years.
"And now, _mon preux_," said the old lady, nodding at him with a quaint
gaiety, "you perceive that I am no longer in my first youth. You will
soon find that I am all the better company for that."
As she spoke, the maid re-entered the apartment with a light but
tasteful supper. They sat down, accordingly, to table, the cats with
savage pantomime surrounding the old lady's chair; and what with the
excellence of the meal and the gaiety of his entertainer, Somerset was
soon completely at his ease. When they had well eaten and drunk, the old
lady leaned back in her chair, and taking a cat upon her lap, subjected
her guest to a prolonged but evidently mirthful scrutiny.
"I fear, madam," said Somerset, "that my manners have not risen to the
height of your preconceived opinion."
"My dear young man," she replied, "you were never more mistaken in your
life. I find you charming, and you may very well have lighted on a fairy
godmother. I am not one of those who are given to change their opinions,
and short of substantial demerit, those who have once gained my favour
continue to enjoy it; but I have a singular swiftness of decision, read
my fellow men and women with a glance, and have acted throughout life on
first impressions. Yours, as I tell you, has been favourable; and if, as
I suppose, you are a young fellow of somewhat idle habits, I think it
not improbable that we may strike a bargain."
"Ah, madam," returned Somerset, "you have divined my situation. I am a
man of birth, parts, and breeding; excellent company, or at least so I
find myself; but by a peculiar iniquity of fate, destitute alike of
trade or money. I was, indeed, this evening upon the quest of an
adventure, resolved to close with any offer of interest, emolument, or
pleasure; and your summons, which I profess I am still at some loss to
understand, jumped naturally with the inclination of my mind. Call it,
if you will, impudence; I am here, at least, prepared for any
proposition you can find it in your heart to make, and resolutely
determined to accept."
"You express yourself very well," replied the old lady, "and are
certainly a droll and curious young man. I should not care to affirm
that you were sane, for I have never found any one entirely so besides
myself; but at least the nature of your madness entertains me, and I
will reward you with some description of my character and life."
Thereupon the old lady, still fondling the cat upon her lap, proceeded
to narrate the following particulars.
NARRATIVE OF THE SPIRITED OLD LADY
I was the eldest daughter of the Reverend Bernard Fanshawe, who held a
valuable living in the diocese of Bath and Wells. Our family, a very
large one, was noted for a sprightly and incisive wit, and came of a
good old stock where beauty was an heirloom. In Christian grace of
character we were unhappily deficient. From my earliest years I saw and
deplored the defects of those relatives whose age and position should
have enabled them to conquer my esteem; and while I was yet a child, my
father married a second wife, in whom (strange to say) the Fanshawe
failings were exaggerated to a monstrous and almost laughable degree.
Whatever may be said against me, it cannot be denied I was a pattern
daughter; but it was in vain that, with the most touching patience, I
submitted to my stepmother's demands; and from the hour she entered my
father's house, I may say that I met with nothing but injustice and
ingratitude.
I stood not alone, however, in the sweetness of my disposition; for one
other of the family besides myself was free from any violence of
character. Before I had reached the age of sixteen, this cousin, John by
name, had conceived for me a sincere but silent passion; and although
the poor lad was too timid to hint at the nature of his feelings, I had
soon divined and begun to share them. For some days I pondered on the
odd situation created for me by the bashfulness of my admirer; and at
length, perceiving that he begun, in his distress, rather to avoid than
seek my company, I determined to take the matter into my own hands.
Finding him alone in a retired part of the rectory garden, I told him
that I had divined his amiable secret; that I knew with what disfavour
our union was sure to be regarded; and that, under the circumstances, I
was prepared to flee with him at once. Poor John was literally paralysed
with joy; such was the force of his emotions, that he could find no
words in which to thank me; and that I, seeing him thus helpless, was
obliged to arrange, myself, the details of our flight, and of the stolen
marriage which was immediately to crown it. John had been at that time
projecting a visit to the metropolis. In this I bade him persevere, and
promised on the following day to join him at the Tavistock Hotel.