With what indescribable feelings of exultation did Geoffery ride through
the splendid park, look back on the baronial remains of the ancient
castle, and the grandeur of the modern mansion, then around them on the
immeasurable extent of the grounds, the endless variety of the scenery,
the magnificent, unfathomable woods, the beautiful openings, displaying
in the distance the rich low pastures, with their grazing flocks; the
bare hill rising beyond, crowned with herds of deer; bends of the
picturesque river, with here the swan or the wild duck sailing on its
smooth bosom, there a waterfall, veiling its rocky sides in spray, and
clothing its surface with a sheet of foam; all, in short, on which he
had so long looked with corroding envy, and fierce thirst for
possession, but for many years without a hope.
He checked the bridle of his horse on the centre of a little eminence,
inhaled a long draught of the fragrant air, and smiled with supercilious
self-importance while he thought of the cheering probability, to which
time and chance had at length given birth, that all might yet be his.
He found Doctor Harman at home, and with great solemnity and well-acted
sorrow, made known to him the discoveries of the morning. The packet of
arsenic being missing, Sir Alfred having been seen coming from the place
where it had lain, and the still more extraordinary and, he feared,
perfectly decisive circumstance of his having himself seen a packet
marked arsenic in Sir Alfred's escritoire.
It was too shocking to be thought of, he said, yet how were such
staggering facts as these, together with those which had previously come
under the Doctor's own eye, to be got rid of? He wished to retain
charitable opinions to the very last. Investigation, however, had become
a duty, although he would certainly wish it to be conducted in the most
delicate manner possible. In answer to an inquiry from Geoffery, the
Doctor said he had already tested the dregs found in the glass, and
proved them to be arsenic; to obtain full satisfaction, he added, that
it would be very desirable to open the body, and examine by similar
tests the contents of the stomach. "But," he proceeded "the request must
come from Sir Alfred."
"Which we know will not be the case," replied Geoffery; "on the
contrary, I fear he will refuse to permit an examination, and if so, the
proper authorities must enforce submission; but I am so anxious to
proceed in this affair with the utmost delicacy, that you would greatly
oblige me, Doctor, if you would first urge it as your own request--as a
matter of favour to yourself--as throwing a light on science. I do not
wish unnecessarily to hurt the feelings of Sir Alfred, and if ever I am
myself compelled to yield my belief to the frightful suspicions which
circumstances, I am sorry to say, almost justify, it must not be till
the most ample proof has no longer left me free to doubt."
His object in wishing to act with this affected delicacy was, that
Alfred might refuse to allow the body to be opened; as such conduct,
under the circumstances, would look suspicious, and he felt certain,
knowing as he did Alfred's wish to repress the suicide, that so
requested he would of course refuse, while, if he were informed that
suspicions already existed, it was to be supposed that he would for his
own sake instantly consent. The Doctor, however, still objected to
attend unsummoned.
As soon, therefore, as Geoffery returned to Arden, he despatched a
servant on horseback with a verbal message, requesting that Doctor
Harman and two surgeons would attend prepared to open the body of Sir
Willoughby. This succeeded in taking in the honest-hearted Doctor, to
whom it did not occur to inquire who had given the message to a servant
who was one of Sir Alfred's household.
On the arrival of the medical gentlemen, Geoffery, who was determined
that every point unfavourable to his cousin should admit of proof by
other witnesses than himself, sent a servant up to Sir Alfred with a
message purporting to be from Doctor Harman to say, that if Sir Alfred
had no objection, the Doctor was very desirous of being permitted to
open the body of the deceased, for the purpose of ascertaining whether
or not his view of the case were correct, in supposing that the sudden
death of Sir Willoughby had been occasioned by a fit of apoplexy.
Alfred, surprised at the officious impertinence of such an interference
to which he had no idea of sacrificing the solemn injunctions of his
dying brother, sent back an immediate and positive refusal; on which
Geoffery with a face of solemn sorrow, dismissed the medical gentlemen,
adding many flourishes and innuendoes, and confessing that he certainly
had ventured to send for them himself, in the hope that Sir Alfred might
have been induced to permit an examination, for which the circumstances
of the case so loudly called. This might be thought officious in him,
but his motive was, to combine delicacy with a step he felt it his duty
to take.
Alfred had many reasons for his refusal; first, and above all, were his
brother's anxious and repeated injunctions, which, except superseded by
sad necessity, would of course be laws to him; next, he was, as we have
already said, very desirous that the idea of a suicide should not be
even suggested; lest it should come to the ears of his mother, and add
to her distress: and, finally, he wished, that if the idea were
suggested, the fact should not be proved, lest as we have already
hinted, Christian rites should be refused. At the same time, feeling
himself but too certain, that his poor brother must have put a period to
his own existence, he had no anxious doubts to be satisfied by an
examination. As to the opinions which might be entertained by others,
though the doctor had said at first, that the symptoms resembled those
of poison, he had, at the same time allowed, that an apoplectic fit
might have caused the sudden death, and been attended with similar
symptoms. Alfred naturally thought, therefore, that the family appearing
satisfied with this solution, it would become the prevalent opinion, and
the melancholy event pass over, as little noticed by the public, as the
private sorrows of individuals generally are.
This honourable and exalted mind never once conceived the idea, that any
combination of circumstances whatever, could have suggested to any human
being such a thought of horror, as that of his having shortened the life
of his dear brother; much less did he imagine, that by the part he was
now acting, he was actually furnishing a treacherous enemy with a sort
of presumptive evidence that such was the fact: so that while every
unfortunate coincidence, on which the ignorance of some, and the
malignant designs of others, could found an evil report, was being
universally disseminated, and discussed. Alfred sat apart, unsuspicious
of evil, yielding to his grief, and communicating with none, except to
give such orders as were absolutely necessary; while the arts of
Geoffery, and the delicacy of friends, prevented any creature's offering
him a hint of what was unhappily, by this time, passing in the minds of
many. For, not only were all the particulars which the servants had
witnessed, already in circulation; but, the circumstances of the marked
paper falling from Alfred's bosom, and the missing packet being seen in
his escritoire, were also beginning to be pretty generally known, to the
great surprise of the poor Doctor, who, as we said, had never breathed a
hint on the subject. Yet had his prudence gained him no credit; for
Geoffery had not confined his insinuations against the Doctor's talents
for taciturnity, to what he had said to his man Davison; but had also
complained to several confidential friends, how that meddling, gossiping
fellow, Harman, had been saying so and so--giving here each particular,
in the form of a quotation. If his auditors _chanced_ to reply, that
they had heard nothing of the kind before, Geoffery would express his
surprise; assure them that every one else had; lament that such should
be the case; and add, how much he had wished, to suppress unpleasant
reports; at least, until the whole affair should necessarily become
matter of public discussion.
Geoffery having, as we have said, his reasons for being aware that
Willoughby had taken poison, was determined, for the furtherance of his
diabolical schemes against Alfred, that the body should be opened; and
proof thus furnished, of the fact of poison having been swallowed. He
took care, therefore, that not only reports, but direct information
should reach the coroner, of a nature to render it his duty to demand an
investigation of the whole affair.
END OF VOL. II.