It was about ten o'clock in the day when Marlow returned to the Court,
as it was called. The butler informed him that Miss Emily was not
down--a very unusual thing with her, as she was exceedingly matutinal
in her habits; but he found, on inquiry, that she had sat up with her
mother during the greater part of the night. Marlow looked at his
watch, then at the gravelled space before the house, where his own
horse was being led up and down by his groom, and a stranger who had
come with him was sitting quietly on horseback, as if waiting for him.
"I fear," said Marlow, after a moment's musing, "I must disturb your
young lady. Will you tell her maid to go up and inform her that I am
here, and wish to speak with her immediately, as I have business which
calls me to London without delay." The man retired, and Marlow entered
what was then called the withdrawing room, walking up and down in
thought. He had not remained many minutes, however, when Emily herself
appeared, with her looks full of surprise and anxiety. "What is the
matter, Marlow?" she said. "Has any new evil happened?"
"Nay, nay, my love," said Marlow, embracing her tenderly. "You must
not let the few ills that have already befallen you, my Emily, produce
that apprehensiveness which long years of evil and mischance but too
often engender. Brighter days are coming, I trust, my love; so far
from new evils having arisen, I have been very fortunate in my
inquiries, and have got information which must lead to great results.
I must pursue the clue that has been afforded me without a moment's
delay or hesitation; for once the thread be broken I may have
difficulty in uniting it again. But if I judge rightly, my Emily, it
will lead me to the following results. To the complete exposure of a
base conspiracy; to the punishment of the offenders; to the
restoration of your father's property, and of his rank."
He held her hand in his while he spoke, and gazed into her beautiful
eyes; but Emily did not seem very much overjoyed. "For my own part,"
she said, "I care little as to the loss of property or station,
Marlow, and still less do I care to punish offenders; but I think my
father and mother will be very glad of the tidings you give me. May I
tell them what you say?"
Marlow mused for a moment or two. He was anxious to give any comfort
to Mrs. Hastings, but yet he doubted her discretion, and he replied,
"Not the whole, dear Emily, except in case of urgent need. You may
tell your mother that I think I have obtained information which will
lead to the restoration of your father's property, and you may assure
her that no effort shall be wanting on my part to attain that object.
Say that I am, even now, setting out for London for the purpose, and
that I am full of good hopes. I believe I can prove," he added, after
a moment's consideration, and in reality more to lead Mrs. Hastings
away from the right track than from any other consideration, although
the point he was about to state was a fact, "I believe I can prove
that the missing leaf of the marriage register, which was supposed to
have been torn out by your grandfather's orders, was there not two
years ago, and that I can show by whose hands it was torn out at a
much later date. Assure her, however, that I will do every thing in my
power, and bid her be of good hope."
"I do not understand the matter," answered Emily, "and never heard of
this register, but I dare say my mother has, and will comprehend your
meaning better than I do. I know the very hope will give her great
pleasure."
"Remember one thing, however, dear Emily," replied Marlow, "on no
account mention to her my suspicions of Mrs. Hazleton, nor show any
suspicions of that good lady yourself. It is absolutely necessary that
she should be kept in ignorance of our doubts, till those doubts,
become certainties. However, in case of any painful and unpleasant
circumstances occurring while I am absent, I must leave these papers
with you. They consist of the note sent you by Mrs. Hazleton which you
showed me, a paper which I feel confident is in her handwriting, but
which imitates your hand very exactly, and which has led to wrong
impressions, and the letter of young John Ayliffe--or at least that
which he wrote under Mrs. Hazleton's direction. I have added a few
words of my own, on a separate sheet of paper, stating the impression
which I have in regard to all these matters, and which I will justify
whenever it may be needful."
"But what am I to do with them?" asked Emily, simply.
"Keep them safely, and ever at hand, dear girl," replied Marlow, in a
grave tone. "You will find your father on his return a good deal
altered--moody and dissatisfied. It will be as well for you to take no
notice of such demeanor, unless he expresses plainly some cause of
discontent. If he do so--if he should venture upon any occasion to
reproach you, my Emily--"
"For what?" exclaimed Emily, in utter surprise.
"It would be too long and too painful to explain all just now, dear
one," answered her lover. "But such a thing may happen, my Emily.
Deceived, and in error, he may perhaps reproach you for things you
never dreamt of. He may also judge wrongly of your conduct in not
having told him of this young scoundrel's proposal to you. In either
case put that packet of papers in his hands, and tell him frankly and
candidly every thing."
"He is sometimes so reserved and grave," said Emily, "that I never
like to speak to him on any subject to which he does not lead the way.
I sometimes think he does not understand me, Marlow, and dread to open
my whole heart to him, as I would fain do, lest he should mistake me
still more."
"Let no dread stop you in this instance, my own dear girl," Marlow
answered. "That there have been dark plots against you, Emily, I am
certain. The only way to meet and frustrate them is to place full and
entire confidence in your father. I do not ask you to speak to him on
the subject unless he speaks to you till I have obtained the proofs
which will make all as clear as daylight. Then, every thing must be
told, and Sir Philip will find that had he been more frank himself he
would have met with no want of candor in his daughter. Now, one more
kiss, dear love, and then to my horse's back."
I will not pursue Marlow's journey across the fair face of merry
England, nor tell the few adventures that befell him on the way, nor
the eager considerations that pressed, troop after troop, upon his
mind, neither will I dwell long upon his proceedings in London, which
occupied but one brief day. He went to the house of his banker, sought
out the little clerk of Messrs. Doubledoo and Kay, and contrived from
both to obtain proof positive that Mrs. Hazleton had supplied a large
sum of money to young John Ayliffe to carry on his suit against Sir
Philip Hastings. He also obtained a passport for France, and one or
two letters for influential persons in Paris, and returning to the inn
where he had left the man who had accompanied him from the country,
set out for Calais, without pausing even to take rest himself. Another
man, a clerk from his own lawyer's house, accompanied him, and though
the passage was somewhat long and stormy, he reached Calais in safety.
Journeys to Paris were not then such easy things as now. Three days
passed ere Marlow reached the French capital, and then both his
companions were inclined to grumble not a little at the rapidity with
which he travelled, and the small portion of rest he allowed them or
himself. In the capital, however, they paused for two days, and,
furnished with an interpreter and guide, amused themselves mightily,
while Marlow passed his time in government offices, and principally
with the lieutenant of police, or one of his commissaries.
At length the young gentleman notified his two companions that they
must prepare to accompany him at nine o'clock in the morning to St.
Germain en Laye, where he intended to reside for some days. A carriage
was at the door to the moment, and they found in it a very decent and
respectable gentleman in black, with a jet-hilted sword by his side,
and a certain portion of not very uncorrupt English. The whole party
jogged on pleasantly up the steep ascent, and round the fine old
palace, to a small inn which was indicated to the driver by the
gentleman in black, for whom that driver seemed to entertain a
profound reverence. When comfortably fixed in the inn, Marlow left his
two English companions, and proceeded, as it was the hour of
promenade, to take a walk upon the terrace with his friend in black.
They passed a great number of groups, and a great number of single
figures, and Marlow might have remarked, if he had been so disposed,
that several of the persons whom they met seemed to eye his companion
with a suspicious and somewhat anxious glance. All Marlow's powers of
observation, however, were directed in a different way. He examined
every face that he saw, every group that he came near; but at length,
as they passed a somewhat gayly dressed woman of the middle age, who
was walking alone, the young Englishman touched the arm of the man in
black, saying, "According to the description I have had of her, that
must be very like the person."
"We will follow her, and see," said the man in black.
Without appearing to notice her particularly, they kept near the lady
who had attracted their attention, as long as she continued to walk
upon the terrace, and then followed her when she left it, through
several streets which led away in the direction of the forest. At
length she stopped at a small house, opened the door, and went in.
The man in black took out a little book from his pocket, closely
written with long lists of names.
"Monsieur et Madame Jervis," he said, after having turned over several
pages. "Here since three years ago."
"That cannot be she, then," answered Marlow.
"Stay, stay," said his companion, "that is _au premier_. On the second
floor lodges Monsieur Drummond. Old man of sixty-eight. He has been
here two years; and above Madame Dupont, an old French lady whom I
know quite well. You must be mistaken, Monsieur, but we will go into
this _charcutier's_ just opposite, and inquire whether that is Madame
Jervis who went in."
It proved to be so. The pork butcher had seen her as she passed the
window, and Marlow's search had to begin again. When he and his
companion returned to their inn, however, the man whom he had brought
up from the country met him eagerly, saying, "I have seen her, sir! I
have seen her! She passed by here not ten minutes ago, dressed in
weeds like a widow, and walking very fast. I would swear to her."
"Oh, he," said the man in black, "we will soon find her now," and
calling to the landlord, who was as profoundly deferential towards him
as the coachman had been, he said in the sweetest possible tone, "Will
you have the goodness to let Monsieur Martin know that the _bon homme
grivois_ wishes to speak with him for a moment?"
It was wonderful with what rapidity Monsieur St. Martin, a tall,
dashing looking personage, with an infinite wig, obeyed the summons of
the _bon homme grivois_.
"Ah, _bon jour_, St. Martin," said the man in black.
"_Bon jour, Monsieur_," replied the other with a profound obeisance.
"A lady of forty--has been handsome, fresh color, dark eyes, middle
height, hair brown, hardly gray," said the man in black. "Dressed like
an English widow, somewhat common air and manner, has come here within
a year. Where is she to be found, St. Martin?"
The other, who had remained standing, took out his little book, and
after consulting its pages diligently, gave a street and a number.
"What's her name?" asked the man in black.
"Mistress Brown," replied Monsieur St. Martin.
"Good," said the man in black, "but we must wait till to-morrow
morning, as it is now growing dark, and there must be no mistake;
first, lest we scare the real bird in endeavoring to catch one we
don't want, and next, lest we give annoyance to any of his Majesty's
guests, which would reduce the king to despair."
The next morning, at an early hour, the party of four proceeded to the
street which had been indicated, discovered the number, and then
entered a handsome hotel, inhabited by an old French nobleman. The man
in black seemed unknown to either the servants or their master, but a
very few words spoken in the ear of the latter, rendered him most
civil and accommodating. A room in the front of the house, just over
that of the porter, was put at the disposal of the visitors, and the
man who had accompanied Marlow from the country was placed at the
window to watch the opposite dwelling. It was a balmy morning, and the
house was near the outskirts of the town, so that the fresh air of the
country came pleasantly up the street. The windows of the opposite
house were, however, still closed, and it was not till Marlow and his
companions had been there near three quarters of an hour, that a
window on the first floor was opened, and a lady looked out for a
moment, and then drew in her head again.
"There she is!" cried the man who was watching, "there she is, sir."
"Are you quite certain?" asked the man in black.
"Beyond all possible doubt, sir," replied the other. "Lord bless you,
I know her as well as I know my own mother. I saw her almost every day
for ten years."
"Very well, then," said the man in black, "I wilt go over first alone,
and as soon as I have got in, you, Monsieur Marlow, with these two
gentlemen, follow me thither. She won't escape me when once I'm in,
but the house may have a back way, and therefore we will not scare her
by too many visitors at this early hour."
He accordingly took his departure, and Marlow and his companions saw
him ring the bell at the opposite house. But the suspicion of those
within fully justified the precautions he had taken. Before he
obtained admission, he was examined very narrowly by a maid-servant
from the window above. It is probable that he was quite conscious of
this scrutiny, but he continued quietly humming an opera air for a
minute or two, and then rang the bell again. The door was then opened.
He entered, and Marlow and his companions ran across, and got in
before the door was shut. The maid gave a little scream at the sudden
ingress of so many men, but the gentleman in black told her to be
silent, to which she replied, "Oh, Monsieur, you have cheated me. You
said you wanted lodgings."
"Very good, my child," replied the man, "but the lodgings which I want
are those of Madame Brown, and you will be good enough to recollect
that I command all persons, in the king's name, now in this house, to
remain in it, and not to go out on any pretence whatever till they
have my permission. Lock that door at the back, and then bring me the
key."
The maid, pale and trembling, did as she was commanded, and the French
gentleman then directed the man who had accompanied Marlow to precede
the rest up the stairs, and enter the front room of the first floor.
The others followed close, and as soon as the door of the room was
open, it was evident that the lady of the house had been alarmed by
the noise below; for she stood looking eagerly towards the top of the
stairs, with cheeks very pale indeed. At the same moment that this
sight was presented to them, they heard the man who had gone on
exclaim in English, "Ah, Mistress Ayliffe, how do you do? I am very
glad to see you. Do you know they said you were dead--ay, and swore to
it."
John Ayliffe's mother sank down in a seat, and hid her face with her
hands.