MISS PLYMPTON BAFFLED.
Meanwhile Miss Plympton had been undergoing various phases of feeling,
alternating between anxiety and hope, and terminating in a resolution
which brought forth important results. On the departure of Edith she had
watched her till her carriage was out of sight, and then sadly and
reluctantly had given orders to drive back to Dalton. On arriving there
she put up at the inn, and though full of anxiety, she tried to wait as
patiently as possible for the following day.
Accustomed to move among the great, and to regard them with a certain
reverence that pervades the middle classes in England, she tried first
of all to prevent any village gossip about Edith, and so she endeavored,
by warning and by bribery, to induce the maid, the footman, and the
driver to say nothing about the scene at the gates. Another day, she
hoped, would make it all right, and idle gossip should, never be allowed
to meddle with the name of Edith in any way.
That evening Edith's note was brought to her. On receiving it she read
it hurriedly, and then went down to see who had brought it. She saw the
porter, who told her that he had come for Miss Dalton's baggage. The
porter treated her with an effort to be respectful, which appeared to
Miss Plympton to be a good omen. She offered him a piece of gold to
propitiate him still further, but, to her amazement, it was declined.
“Thank ye kindly, mum,” said he, touching his hat, “an' hope it's no
offense; but we beant allowed to take nothin' savin' an' except what he
gives us hisself.”
A moment's surprise was succeeded by the thought that even this was of
good omen, since it seemed to indicate a sort of rough, bluff, sterling
honesty, which could not co-exist with a nature that was altogether bad.
Returning to her room, she once more read Edith's note. Its tone
encouraged her greatly. It seemed to show that all her fears had been
vain, and that, whatever the character of Wiggins might be, there could
be no immediate danger to Edith. So great, indeed, was the encouragement
which she received from this note that she began to think her fears
foolish, and to believe that in England no possible harm could befall
one in Edith's position. It was with such thoughts, and the hope of
seeing Edith on the following day, that she retired for the night.
Her sleep was refreshing, and she did not awake till it was quite late.
On awaking and finding what time it was, she rose and dressed hastily.
Breakfast was served, and she began to look out for Edith.
Time passed, however, and Edith did not make her appearance. Miss
Plympton tried to account for the delay in every possible way, and
consoled herself as long as she could by the thought that she had been
very much fatigued; and had not risen until very late. But the hours
passed, and at length noon came without bringing any signs of her, and
Miss Plympton was unable any longer to repress her uneasiness. This
inaction grew intolerable, and she determined to set forth and see for
herself. Accordingly she had the carriage made ready, and in a short
time reached the park gate.
She had to ring for a long time before any one appeared; but at length,
after fully an hour's delay, the porter came. He touched his hat on
seeing her, but stood on the other side of the iron gateway without
opening it.
“Is Miss Dalton at the Hall?” asked Miss Plympton.
“Yes, mum.”
“I wish to see her.”
“Beg yer pardon, mum, but there be no callers allowed in.”
“Oh, it's different with me. Miss Dalton wrote that she would come to
see me this morning, and I'm afraid she's ill, so I have come to see
her.”
“She beant ill, then,” said the other.
Miss Plympton reflected that it was of no use to talk to this man, and
thought of Wiggins himself.
“Is your master in?” she asked.
“He is, mum.”
“Tell him I wish to see him.”
“Beggin' yer pardon, mum, he never sees nobody.”
“But I wish to see him on business of a very important kind.”
“Can't help it, mum--beggin' yer pardon; but I've got to obey orders,
mum.”
“My good fellow, can't you take my message, or let me in to see him?”
“Sorry, mum, but I can't; I've got my orders.”
“But he can't know. This business is so important that it will be very
bad for him if he does not see me now. Tell him that. Go, now; you
can't know what his business is. Tell him that--”
“Well, mum, if you insist, I don't mind goin',” said the porter. “I'll
tell him.”
“Say that I wish to see him at once, and that the business I have is of
the utmost importance.”
The porter touched his hat, and walked off.
Now followed another period of waiting. It was fully half an hour
before he returned. Miss Plympton saw that he was alone, and her heart
sank within her.
“Mr. Wiggins presents his respects, mum,” said he, “and says he's sorry
he can't see you.”
“Did you tell him that my business was of the most important kind?”
“Yes, mum.”
“And he refuses to come?”
“He says he's sorry he can't see you, mum.”
At this Miss Plympton was silent for a little while.
“Come,” said she at last, “my good fellow, if I could only see him, and
mention one or two things, he would be very glad. It will be very much
to his injury if he does not see me. You appear to be a faithful
servant, and to care for your master's interests, so do you let me pass
through, and I'll engage to keep you from all harm or punishment of any
kind.”
“Sorry, mum, to refuse; but orders is orders, mum,” said the man,
stolidly.
“If I am not allowed to go in,” said Miss Plympton, “surely Miss Dalton
will come here to see me--here at the gates.”
“I don't know, mum.”
“Well, you go and tell her that I am here.”
“Sorry to refuse, mum; but it's agin orders. No callers allowed, mum.”
“But Miss Dalton can come as far as the gates.”
The man looked puzzled, and then muttered,
“Mr. Wiggins's orders, mum, is to have no communication.”
“Ah!” said Miss Plympton; “so she is shut up here.”
“Beggin' your pardon, mum, she beant shut up at all nowheres: she goes
about.”
“Then why can't I see her here?”
“Agin orders, mum.”
By this Miss Plympton understood the worst, and fully believed that
Edith was under strict restraint.
“My good man,” said she, solemnly, “you and your master are committing a
great crime in daring to keep any one here in imprisonment, especially
the one who owns these estates. I warn him now to beware, for Miss
Dalton has powerful friends. As to you, you may not know that you are
breaking the law now, and are liable to transportation for life. Come,
don't break the laws and incur such danger. If I choose I can bring here
to-morrow the officers of the law, release Miss Dalton, and have you and
your master arrested.”
At this the man looked troubled. He scratched his head, drew a long
breath, and looked at the ground with a frown.
Miss Plympton, seeing that this shot had told, followed it up.
“Refuse me admittance,” said she, “and I will bring back those who will
come here in the name of the law; but if you let me in, I promise to say
nothing about this matter.”
The porter now seemed to have recovered himself. He raised his head, and
the old monotonous reply came:
“Sorry, mum, but it's agin orders.”
Miss Plympton made one further attempt. She drew forth her purse, and
displayed its contents.
“See,” said she, “you will be doing a kindness to your master, and you
shall have all this.”
But the man did not look at the purse at all. His eyes were fixed on
Miss Plympton, and he merely replied as before:
“Sorry, mum, but it's agin orders.”
“Very well,” said Miss Plympton. “There is only one thing left for me to
do. I wish you to take one final message from me to your master. Tell
him this: It is my intention to procure help for Miss Dalton at once.
Tell him that her uncle, Sir Lionel Dudleigh, is now in England, and
that this very day I shall set out for Dudleigh Manor, I shall tell Sir
Lionel how his niece is situated, and bring him here. He will come with
his own claims and the officers of the law. Wiggins shall be arrested,
together with all who have aided and abetted him. If he refuses to admit
me now, I shall quit this place and go at once without delay. Go, now,
and make haste, for this matter is of too great importance to be decided
by you.”
The porter seemed to think so too, for, touching his hat, he at once
withdrew. This time he was gone longer than before, and Miss Plympton
waited for his return with great impatience. At length he came back.
“Mr. Wiggins presents his respects, mum,” said the man, “and says he is
not breakin' any law at all, and that if you choose to go for Sir
Lionel, he is willin' to have you do so. He says if you fetch Sir
Lionel here he will let both of you in. He says he'll be very happy
indeed to see Sir Lionel.”
This singular way of taking what was meant to be a most formidable
threat took away Miss Plympton's last hope, and reduced her to a state
of dejection and bewilderment; for when, she sent that threatening
message, it was not because she had really any fixed design of carrying
it into execution, but rather because the name of Sir Lionel Dudleigh
seemed to her to be one which might overawe the mind of Wiggins. She
thought that by reminding Wiggins of the existence of this powerful
relative, and by threatening an instant appeal to him, she would be able
to terrify him into releasing Edith. But his cool answer destroyed this
hope. She felt puzzled at his assertion that he was not breaking any
law, when he himself must know well that such a thing as the
imprisonment of a free subject is a crime of the most serious character;
but she felt even more puzzled at his reference to Sir Lionel. Her own
connection and association with the aristocracy had never destroyed that
deep unswerving reverence for them with which she had set out in life;
and to find Wiggins treating the mention of Sir Lionel with such cool
indifference was to her an incomprehensible thing. But there was nothing
more for her to do at this place, and feeling the necessity of immediate
action, she at once drove back to the inn.
Arriving here, she hoped that her prompt departure might frighten
Wiggins, and lead to a change in his decision, and she concluded to
remain that evening and that night, so as to give him time for
repentance.
Nothing was left now but to devise some plan of action. First of all,
she made inquiries of the landlord about Wiggins. That personage could
tell her very little about him. According to him, Mr. Wiggins was a
lawyer from Liverpool, who had been intrusted with the management of the
Dalton estate for the past ten years. He was a very quiet man, devoted
to his business, and until latterly had never been at Dalton oftener or
longer than was absolutely necessary. Of late, however, he had been
living here for some months, and it was believed that he intended to
stay here the greater part of his time.
This was all that Miss Plympton was able to learn about Wiggins.
* * * * *