CHAPTER XXXII.

ALRINA'S TROUBLES ARE INCREASED BY AN UNEXPECTED DISCOVERY.

Mr. Freeman had returned to St. Just with his daughter, but neither of

them had appeared much in public since. The servant, Alice Ann, said

that her young mistress was looking very whisht and palched, and "The

Maister" worn't like hisself at all. He was continually locked in his

private room, and she had seen him through the keyhole more than once,

upon his knees before a great chest, taking things out and putting

things in.

"What sort of things be they, then?" Mrs. Trenow would ask; for to her,

as her nearest neighbour and the mother of her sweetheart, Alice Ann was

most communicative.

"Why, powers of things," would be the reply; "silks and satins, all

foreign like, and gold and silver I b'lieve--a purty passle."

Miss Freeman had not returned, so that there was no one to watch

Alrina's movements, and she might have gone out and stayed out all day

if she liked, but she did not care to move. She would sit in her room

all day long, and scarcely touch the little dainties with which Alice

Ann tried to tempt her; nor did she care to speak, unless her faithful

attendant broached the subject of all others which she well knew

occupied her young mistress's every thought. Days and weeks and months

had passed away, and yet she had heard nothing of Frederick. She had

written him, but he had not replied to her letters. Alice Ann tried to

console her; but what could she, a poor ignorant country-girl, say by

way of consolation to one possessing the refined and sensitive feelings

of Alrina.

It was hard to believe; and yet, what could she think? He had deserted

her! Perhaps he had met with another more to his taste, and more suited

to him in position and fortune--one whose family history could be

clearly set forth, and over whose heads no dark mystery hung. It was

natural, she thought, that on reflection he should shrink from uniting

himself with one whose family were so obscure and in many respects

objectionable.

Many days did this poor girl sit brooding over her sad fate. She would

release him from his engagement with her; it was right, she thought,

considering all things, that she should do so, and she determined in her

mind she would do so. She would like to see him once more, however, just

to tell him this. When she had made up her mind to this step, she felt

more tranquil and resigned to her fate, and she now began to walk out as

usual, and wander over the rocks--perhaps with the dim hope that she

might one day fall in with Frederick in the course of her rambles, as

she had done before, when she could tell him her determination. Poor

girl! she knew not her own weakness; for had he, whose image she had so

fondly cherished from her childhood, appeared before her at that time,

her fancied courage would have forsaken her, and she would have taken

him back to her heart and forgiven him, even did she know beyond a doubt

that he had deserted her for another.

Alas! she little knew how impossible it was for him to appear before her

then, as she secretly hoped and wished he would; nor did she know, poor

girl, how near he had been to her when she was under Cooper's roof.

Conflicting thoughts occupied her mind for several days. It was a hard

struggle; but she conquered her feelings, and the trial did not appear

to her so painful, now that she had fully made up her mind that it was

her duty to put an end to the engagement on account of this dark mystery

which hung over her family history. She felt that in doing this she was

acting honourably towards him whom she could not help loving still with

all the ardour of a first love. This she thought she could bear better

than the belief that he had deserted her;--she could not bear that, nor

would she think so again. She felt that it was her own act now, as she

had made up her mind that it should be so--not out of any angry feeling

which she bore towards Frederick, but out of pure love for him, and a

reluctance to place him in a position which might hereafter cause him

pain, and, when the first ardour of love was over, make him ashamed of

his wife's relatives.

When she had fully made up her mind to this, she felt more at ease, and

would sit for hours on the rocks, in calm reflection on the past, and

hopeful meditation on the future. And thus she would pass whole days

without moving from the spot, watching the broad clear sea, and the

vessels passing and repassing, and the graceful gambols of the

sea-birds, as they flew from rock to rock, or took their flight far out

to sea--never heeding the meal-time hour, nor seeming to want food or

sustenance until her return, when her faithful attendant would upbraid

her for staying so long without food, and force her to eat some little

nice thing she had prepared during her young mistress's absence, with

which to tempt her appetite.

In the meantime, her father continued to be occupied in his private room

all day long, looking over papers, and examining the contents of that

large chest.

One morning, while he was so engaged, there came two tall men to the

outer gate of the little garden, who seemed impatient to enter; but not

knowing the secret spring by which the gate was opened, they shook the

gate in their impatience, and called loudly to the inmates (if there

were any) to open and let them in.

Mr. Freeman's private room overlooked the little garden; and on going to

the window to ascertain the cause of all this noise, he started back

like a man shot, and trembled all over like an aspen leaf. Alice Ann

was surprised too when she recognized one of the visitors, but hers was

evidently a feeling of pleasure; for there stood her old lover Josiah,

accompanied by a tall handsome gentleman, with remarkably white hair for

a man of his age, as he did not look above forty.

"Dash the old gate," said Josiah, shaking it to and fro; "you're buried

up brave, I think."

"Iss fie," replied Alice Ann, opening the gate; "we do knaw who to keep

out and who to lev in."

"Where's 'The Maister'?" asked Josiah, as they entered the little

garden.

"How shud I knaw?" returned the girl; "in his skin, I s'pose."

"Is Mr. Freeman at home, my good girl?" said Mr. Morley; "for I am very

anxious to see him."

"He wor up in his room a bit a while ago, sar," replied Alice Ann,

dropping a curtsey to the gentleman, "for I heard a purty caparouse up

there."

"Tell'n that there's a gentleman do want to see un 'pon partic'lar

business," said Josiah, "an' be quick about et."

"Not sure nuff I shaan't," replied the girl. "He said he mustn't be

disturbed for nobody. Ef you'll stop till Miss Reeney do come in, she'll

go up, maybe,--_I_ shaan't, there na."

The girl was not to be persuaded; so Mr. Morley walked into the common

sitting-room, as he saw the door open, while Josiah followed Alice Ann

into the kitchen, to persuade her, perhaps, to go up to her master; or,

probably as they hadn't met for some time, they had little secrets to

communicate, into which we will not be so rude as to pry,--indeed, these

little secret meetings between lovers are seldom interesting to

lookers-on.

Josiah and Alice Ann would not have finished their _tête-à-tête_ for

some time longer, had not a thundering rap at the front door with a

large stick, roused them from their pleasant conversation.

"Dear lor'! how my cap es foused, soas," said Alice Ann, as she jumped

from her seat, and surveyed herself in a small looking-glass which hung

in the kitchen; "whoever can be come now, I shud like to knaw. Drat

thom!" And away she went to answer the knock.

"I want to see the conjuror," said Squire Pendray, in his pompous

manner; for he it was who had disturbed the two lovers so cruelly.

"The what, sar?" exclaimed Alice Ann, opening her eyes to their fullest

extent; for to call her master "the conjuror" was an offence for which

she was sure the enquirer would suffer if her master heard it,--and what

couldn't he hear?

The squire now became aware of his error; for he asked in his blandest

tones if Mr. Freeman was at home.

"He wor home a bit o' while ago, sar," answered Alice Ann, curtseying

very low; for she knew the squire was a very great man, and a

magistrate.

"Tell him I wish to speak to him in a case of life and death," said the

squire.

"Iss sar," said the girl, curtseying again, lower than before, and

leading the way into the usual waiting-room, into which persons on

urgent business of this kind were generally shewn.

Mr. Morley had walked into the common sitting-room, almost without being

bidden; for, although the little waiting-maid had seemed so cool in the

reception of her lover, she thought too much of him at the time to pay

much attention to the gentleman he brought with him. She now went up and

knocked at "The Maister's" door; and receiving no answer she peeped in

at the keyhole. There was the great chest still open on the floor, but

she could see nothing of her master, nor hear him. She knocked again a

little louder,--still no answer. She then called to him; but no notice

was taken of it, and she became alarmed. She tried the door,--it was

locked. She then went down to consult with Josiah, who thought they had

better tell the two gentlemen; so Alice Ann went into one room, and

Josiah into the other, to inform the respective occupants how matters

stood,--and then there was a general consultation as to what steps

should be taken. Each gentleman was surprised to see the other there;

but their thoughts were too much occupied in deliberating what was to be

done, to ask any questions.

It was the general opinion that Mr. Freeman had either died suddenly

from natural causes, or that he had committed suicide. Mr. Morley

thought they ought to break open the door; but this Alice Ann would not

consent to at all. She knew her master's power, and remembered the

dreadful noises she had heard in that room, and the scenes which she

believed had been enacted there, from the appearance of the poor victims

when they came out. The squire also had some kind of superstitious dread

of interfering with the man of science, who was so much feared in the

neighbourhood; and Josiah, although so powerful in bodily strength, had

a touch of this same superstition too. At last it was determined to send

someone in search of Alrina, and to wait her return.

After some considerable time, which appeared longer than it really was

to those who were waiting, Alrina returned, and was greatly surprised to

find the house occupied by two strangers;--Josiah she had known long

before. They were both much struck with her beauty and quiet ladylike

manner, and explained to her their position. They had come to see Mr.

Freeman on business, and it appeared he had locked himself in his room,

and could not be heard inside, nor would he answer to the calls of the

servant. Alrina was very much alarmed; but she said her father was very

peculiar, and would often refuse to answer when he did not wish to be

disturbed. She went up to the door herself, with the same result; and,

after hesitating for some time, she at length consented that the door

should be forced. This was easily accomplished by Josiah with the aid of

the kitchen poker; and the whole party entered the sacred room,

expecting to see some dreadful sight,--what, they could not imagine.

There stood the chest wide open, as the girl had seen it through the

keyhole; but no one thought of looking into this,--their whole thoughts

were centred in the fate of the owner himself. They searched everywhere,

but no trace of him could be found. Alice Ann suggested that he had

probably gone up the chimney in a flash of fire, and that he might be on

the housetop at that very moment, looking in upon them, or riding

through the air on a broomstick. "We've heard of such things, you knaw,"

said she.

They were roused from their speculations on the mysterious disappearance

of "The Maister" by an exclamation from Mr. Morley, who had been

narrowly examining the room, and was now standing transfixed before the

large chest, which was open, and from which some things had been taken

out on the floor.

"As I live," he exclaimed, "this is my chest! How could this have got

here?"

"That's the chest," replied Josiah, "that 'The Maister' found after the

wreck, and told us to bring up here,--for what, we cudn't tell."

"That chest contained money and papers of great value," said Mr. Morley;

"it has been overhauled evidently to some purpose, and no doubt

everything valuable is gone."

"Oh! no, sir!" cried Alrina, in a pitiable tone; "don't accuse my father

of robbery,--he would never do that, I am quite sure."

"My dear young lady," said the squire; "your father shall not be accused

of anything that cannot be fully proved; but I am bound to say it,

however painful it may be to you, that I have had my suspicions for some

time, and so have my brother magistrates. He could not have lived

without money, and the mystery is where he got it from. Now, pray be

calm, while Mr. Morley examines his chest."

"'Morley!'" cried Alrina; "did I hear you rightly, sir? did you call

that gentleman 'Morley?'"

"My name is Morley," said that gentleman, taking her hand; "I am the

brother of one whom I know you have been led to believe will take you

out of your present position, and raise you to his station in life."

"No, sir," replied Alrina, indignantly,--"my family shall never be a

disgrace to anyone; and, let me tell you, sir, that neither you nor your

brother shall ever be disgraced by me! I will never be the wife of a man

who might afterwards despise me."

"That was nobly spoken," said the squire; "you're an honour to your

sex. Gad! I wish my daughters could speak like that, and send the

jackanapes about their business that come swarming about my house."

"Dear lor'! what a handsome coat," exclaimed Alice Ann, as she saw Mr.

Morley take a richly embroidered coat from the chest.

"Yes," said he, holding up the coat and admiring it; "that coat cost me

a great deal of money. I had it made to wear at a grand fancy-dress ball

in Calcutta; and there are other parts of the dress to match, somewhere.

Oh! here they are; you have never seen anything like that in England,

squire, have you?"

"Gad! but I have, though," exclaimed the squire; "if not that same

dress, there was one very like it worn by a stranger at our last ball at

Penzance. And now I begin to think,--why, it must have been Freeman

himself disguised. I never saw him very near that I remember, for he

always avoided me: but it struck me at the time that I had certainly

seen that face somewhere before, but he looked much younger than he can

possibly be."

"Aw! 'The Maister' esn't so old nor yet so ugly as he do make out to

be," said Josiah.

After searching still further, Mr. Morley found the bag in which his

money had been placed, but the money was all gone and the papers also.

"Now!" exclaimed he, jumping up from the kneeling posture in which he

had been for the purpose of examining the contents of the chest; "here's

proof enough. Now let us use all our exertions to secure the man." And,

leaving Alrina and Alice Ann to take care of themselves, the two

gentlemen left the house more quickly than they had entered it, followed

by Josiah. But the object of their search had got the start of them by

several hours; for his fear so overcame him at the sight of Mr. Morley

entering his house--(why, was best known to himself)--that he opened the

room door at once, and locked it behind him, putting the key into his

pocket, and escaped through the back door, and over the back garden

wall, while Alice Ann was opening the front garden gate to let Mr.

Morley and Josiah in. And, making his way as fast as he could to the

cove, he there got a boat which took him out to Cooper's little cutter,

which was anchored a short distance out waiting for orders. It was his

intention to leave the country in this cutter, as soon as he had

arranged his affairs; for he found things were going against him, and

that his power was failing fast; but he did not intend to have gone

quite so soon. He had secreted a considerable sum in gold and jewels

round his person, inside his clothes, several days before,--so that, in

this respect, he was quite prepared for whatever might happen at any

time.

The three pursuers traced him to the seaside, and were just in time to

see the cutter which bore him away. But the little vessel had gone too

far for any attempt to be made to follow her, with the least chance of

success; so they retraced their steps with disappointed looks and

feelings.

The Wizard of West Penwith: A Tale of the Land's-End · 第 32 / 49 章