English
FriendRawdondroveonthentoMr.Moss’smansioninCursitorStreet,andwasdulyinductedintothatdismalplaceofhospitality.
Morningwasbreakingoverthecheerfulhouse-topsofChanceryLaneastherattlingcabwokeuptheechoesthere.
Alittlepink-eyedJew-boy,withaheadasruddyastherisingmorn,letthepartyintothehouse,andRawdonwaswelcomedtotheground-floorapartmentsbyMr.Moss,histravellingcompanionandhost,whocheerfullyaskedhimifhewouldlikeaglassofsomethingwarmafterhisdrive.
TheColonelwasnotsodepressedassomemortalswouldbe,who,quittingapalaceandaplacensuxor,findthemselvesbarredintoaspunging-house;for,ifthetruthmustbetold,hehadbeenalodgeratMr.Moss’sestablishmentonceortwicebefore.
Wehavenotthoughtitnecessaryinthepreviouscourseofthisnarrativetomentionthesetriviallittledomesticincidents:butthereadermaybeassuredthattheycan’tunfrequentlyoccurinthelifeofamanwholivesonnothingayear.
UponhisfirstvisittoMr.Moss,theColonel,thenabachelor,hadbeenliberatedbythegenerosityofhisaunt;onthesecondmishap,littleBecky,withthegreatestspiritandkindness,hadborrowedasumofmoneyfromLordSouthdownandhadcoaxedherhusband’screditor(whowashershawl,velvet-gown,lacepocket-handkerchief,trinket,andgim-crackpurveyor,indeed)totakeaportionofthesumclaimedandRawdon’spromissorynotefortheremainder:soonboththeseoccasionsthecaptureandreleasehadbeenconductedwiththeutmostgallantryonallsides,andMossandtheColonelwerethereforeontheverybestofterms.
“You’llfindyouroldbed,Colonel,andeverythingcomfortable,”thatgentlemansaid,“asImayhonestlysay.
Youmaybeprettysureitskepaired,andbythebestofcompany,too.
ItwasslepinthenightaforelastbytheHonorableCaptingFamish,oftheFiftiethDragoons,whoseMartookhimout,afterafortnight,jesttopunishhim,shesaid.
But,Lawblessyou,Ipromiseyou,hepunishedmychampagne,andhadapartyereeverynight—reglartip-topswells,downfromtheclubsandtheWestEnd—CaptingRagg,theHonorableDeuceace,wholivesintheTemple,andsomefellersasknowsagoodglassofwine,Iwarrantyou.
I’vegotaDoctorofDiwinityupstairs,fivegentsinthecoffee-room,andMrs.Mosshasatably-dy-hotyathalf-pastfive,andalittlecardsormusicafterwards,whenweshallbemosthappytoseeyou.”
“I’llringwhenIwantanything,”saidRawdonandwentquietlytohisbedroom.
Hewasanoldsoldier,wehavesaid,andnottobedisturbedbyanylittleshocksoffate.
Aweakermanwouldhavesentoffalettertohiswifeontheinstantofhiscapture.
“Butwhatistheuseofdisturbinghernight’srest?”thoughtRawdon.
“Shewon’tknowwhetherIaminmyroomornot.
Itwillbetimeenoughtowritetoherwhenshehashadhersleepout,andIhavehadmine.
It’sonlyahundred-and-seventy,andthedeuceisinitifwecan’traisethat.”
Andso,thinkingaboutlittleRawdon(whomhewouldnothaveknowthathewasinsuchaqueerplace),theColonelturnedintothebedlatelyoccupiedbyCaptainFamishandfellasleep.
Itwasteno’clockwhenhewokeup,andtheruddy-headedyouthbroughthim,withconsciouspride,afinesilverdressing-case,wherewithhemightperformtheoperationofshaving.
IndeedMr.Moss’shouse,thoughsomewhatdirty,wassplendidthroughout.
Thereweredirtytrays,andwine-coolersenpermanenceonthesideboard,hugedirtygiltcornices,withdingyyellowsatinhangingstothebarredwindowswhichlookedintoCursitorStreet—vastanddirtygiltpictureframessurroundingpiecessportingandsacred,allofwhichworkswerebythegreatestmasters—andfetchedthegreatestprices,too,inthebilltransactions,inthecourseofwhichtheyweresoldandboughtoverandoveragain.
TheColonel’sbreakfastwasservedtohiminthesamedingyandgorgeousplatedware.
MissMoss,adark-eyedmaidincurl-papers,appearedwiththeteapot,and,smiling,askedtheColonelhowhehadslep?
AndshebroughthimintheMorningPost,withthenamesofallthegreatpeoplewhohadfiguredatLordSteyne’sentertainmentthenightbefore.
ItcontainedabrilliantaccountofthefestivitiesandofthebeautifulandaccomplishedMrs.RawdonCrawley’sadmirablepersonifications.
Afteralivelychatwiththislady(whosatontheedgeofthebreakfasttableinaneasyattitudedisplayingthedraperyofherstockingandanex-whitesatinshoe,whichwasdownatheel),ColonelCrawleycalledforpensandink,andpaper,andbeingaskedhowmanysheets,choseonewhichwasbroughttohimbetweenMissMoss’sownfingerandthumb.
Manyasheethadthatdark-eyeddamselbroughtin;manyapoorfellowhadscrawledandblottedhurriedlinesofentreatyandpacedupanddownthatawfulroomuntilhismessengerbroughtbackthereply.
Poormenalwaysusemessengersinsteadofthepost.
Whohasnothadtheirletters,withthewaferswet,andtheannouncementthatapersoniswaitinginthehall?
Nowonthescoreofhisapplication,Rawdonhadnotmanymisgivings.
DEARBECKY,(Rawdonwrote)
IHOPEYOUSLEPTWELL.Don’tbeFRIGHTENEDifIdon’tbringyouinyourCOFFY.
LastnightasIwascominghomesmoaking,ImetwithanACCADENT.
IwasNABBEDbyMossofCursitorStreet—fromwhoseGILTANDSPLENDIDPARLERIwritethis—thesamethathadmethistimetwoyears.
MissMossbroughtinmytea—sheisgrownveryFAT,and,asusual,hadherSTOCKENSDOWNATHEAL.
It’sNathan’sbusiness—ahundred-and-fifty—withcosts,hundred-and-seventy.
PleasesendmemydeskandsomeCLOTHS—I’minpumpsandawhitetye(somethinglikeMissM’sstockings)—I’veseventyinit.
Andassoonasyougetthis,DrivetoNathan’s—offerhimseventy-fivedown,andASKHIMTORENEW—sayI’lltakewine—wemayaswellhavesomedinnersherry;butnotPICTURS,they’retoodear.
Ifhewon’tstandit.TakemytickerandsuchofyourthingsasyoucanSPARE,andsendthemtoBalls—wemust,ofcoarse,havethesumto-night.
Itwon’tdotoletitstandover,asto-morrow’sSunday;thebedsherearenotveryCLEAN,andtheremaybeotherthingsoutagainstme—I’mgladitan’tRawdon’sSaturdayforcominghome.Godblessyou.
Yoursinhaste,R.C.P.S.Makehasteandcome.
Thisletter,sealedwithawafer,wasdispatchedbyoneofthemessengerswhoarealwayshangingaboutMr.Moss’sestablishment,andRawdon,havingseenhimdepart,wentoutinthecourt-yardandsmokedhiscigarwithatolerablyeasymind—inspiteofthebarsoverhead—forMr.Moss’scourt-yardisrailedinlikeacage,lestthegentlemenwhoareboardingwithhimshouldtakeafancytoescapefromhishospitality.
Threehours,hecalculated,wouldbetheutmosttimerequired,beforeBeckyshouldarriveandopenhisprisondoors,andhepassedtheseprettycheerfullyinsmoking,inreadingthepaper,andinthecoffee-roomwithanacquaintance,CaptainWalker,whohappenedtobethere,andwithwhomhecutforsixpencesforsomehours,withprettyequalluckoneitherside.
Butthedaypassedawayandnomessengerreturned—noBecky.
Mr.Moss’stably-dy-hotywasservedattheappointedhourofhalf-pastfive,whensuchofthegentlemenlodginginthehouseascouldaffordtopayforthebanquetcameandpartookofitinthesplendidfrontparlourbeforedescribed,andwithwhichMr.Crawley’stemporarylodgingcommunicated,whenMissM.(MissHem,asherpapacalledher)appearedwithoutthecurl-papersofthemorning,andMrs.Hemdidthehonoursofaprimeboiledlegofmuttonandturnips,ofwhichtheColonelatewithaveryfaintappetite.
Askedwhetherhewould“stand”abottleofchampagneforthecompany,heconsented,andtheladiesdranktohis‘ealth,andMr.Moss,inthemostpolitemanner,“lookedtowardshim.”
Inthemidstofthisrepast,however,thedoorbellwasheard—youngMossoftheruddyhairroseupwiththekeysandansweredthesummons,andcomingback,toldtheColonelthatthemessengerhadreturnedwithabag,adeskandaletter,whichhegavehim.
“Noceramony,Colonel,Ibeg,”saidMrs.Mosswithawaveofherhand,andheopenedtheletterrathertremulously.
Itwasabeautifulletter,highlyscented,onapinkpaper,andwithalightgreenseal.
MONPAUVRECHERPETIT,(Mrs.Crawleywrote)
IcouldnotsleepONEWINKforthinkingofwhathadbecomeofmyodiousoldmonstre,andonlygottorestinthemorningaftersendingforMr.Blench(forIwasinafever),whogavemeacomposingdraughtandleftorderswithFinettethatIshouldbedisturbedONNOACCOUNT.
Sothatmypooroldman’smessenger,whohadbienmauvaisemineFinettesays,andsentoitleGenievre,remainedinthehallforsomehourswaitingmybell.
YoumayfancymystatewhenIreadyourpoordearoldill-speltletter.
IllasIwas,Iinstantlycalledforthecarriage,andassoonasIwasdressed(thoughIcouldn’tdrinkadropofchocolate—IassureyouIcouldn’twithoutmymonstretobringittome),IdroveventreaterretoNathan’s.
Isawhim—Iwept—Icried—Ifellathisodiousknees.Nothingwouldmollifythehorridman.
Hewouldhaveallthemoney,hesaid,orkeepmypoormonstreinprison.
Idrovehomewiththeintentionofpayingthattristevisitechezmononcle(wheneverytrinketIhaveshouldbeatyourdisposalthoughtheywouldnotfetchahundredpounds,forsome,youknow,arewithcecheronclealready),andfoundMilortherewiththeBulgarianoldsheep-facedmonster,whohadcometocomplimentmeuponlastnight’sperformances.
Paddingtoncamein,too,drawlingandlispingandtwiddlinghishair;sodidChampignac,andhischef—everybodywithfoisonofcomplimentsandprettyspeeches—plaguingpoorme,wholongedtoberidofthem,andwasthinkingeverymomentofthetimeofmonpauvreprisonnier.
Whentheyweregone,IwentdownonmykneestoMilor;toldhimweweregoingtopawneverything,andbeggedandprayedhimtogivemetwohundredpounds.
Hepish’dandpsha’dinafury—toldmenottobesuchafoolastopawn—andsaidhewouldseewhetherhecouldlendmethemoney.
Atlasthewentaway,promisingthathewouldsenditmeinthemorning:whenIwillbringittomypooroldmonsterwithakissfromhisaffectionate
BECKY
Iamwritinginbed.OhIhavesuchaheadacheandsuchaheartache!
WhenRawdonreadoverthisletter,heturnedsoredandlookedsosavagethatthecompanyatthetabled’hoteeasilyperceivedthatbadnewshadreachedhim.
Allhissuspicions,whichhehadbeentryingtobanish,returneduponhim.
Shecouldnotevengooutandsellhertrinketstofreehim.
Shecouldlaughandtalkaboutcomplimentspaidtoher,whilsthewasinprison.Whohadputhimthere?Wenhamhadwalkedwithhim.Wasthere….
Hecouldhardlybeartothinkofwhathesuspected.
Leavingtheroomhurriedly,heranintohisown—openedhisdesk,wrotetwohurriedlines,whichhedirectedtoSirPittorLadyCrawley,andbadethemessengercarrythematoncetoGauntStreet,biddinghimtotakeacab,andpromisinghimaguineaifhewasbackinanhour.
Inthenotehebesoughthisdearbrotherandsister,forthesakeofGod,forthesakeofhisdearchildandhishonour,tocometohimandrelievehimfromhisdifficulty.
Hewasinprison,hewantedahundredpoundstosethimfree—heentreatedthemtocometohim.
Hewentbacktothedining-roomafterdispatchinghismessengerandcalledformorewine.
Helaughedandtalkedwithastrangeboisterousness,asthepeoplethought.
Sometimeshelaughedmadlyathisownfearsandwentondrinkingforanhour,listeningallthewhileforthecarriagewhichwastobringhisfateback.
Attheexpirationofthattime,wheelswereheardwhirlinguptothegate—theyoungjanitorwentoutwithhisgate-keys.Itwasaladywhomheletinatthebailiff’sdoor.
“ColonelCrawley,”shesaid,tremblingverymuch.
He,withaknowinglook,lockedtheouterdooruponher—thenunlockedandopenedtheinnerone,andcallingout,“Colonel,you’rewanted,”ledherintothebackparlour,whichheoccupied.
Rawdoncameinfromthedining-parlourwhereallthosepeoplewerecarousing,intohisbackroom;aflareofcoarselightfollowinghimintotheapartmentwheretheladystood,stillverynervous.
“ItisI,Rawdon,”shesaidinatimidvoice,whichshestrovetorendercheerful.“ItisJane.”
Rawdonwasquiteovercomebythatkindvoiceandpresence.
Heranuptoher—caughtherinhisarms—gaspedoutsomeinarticulatewordsofthanksandfairlysobbedonhershoulder.
Shedidnotknowthecauseofhisemotion.
ThebillsofMr.Mosswerequicklysettled,perhapstothedisappointmentofthatgentleman,whohadcountedonhavingtheColonelashisguestoverSundayatleast;andJane,withbeamingsmilesandhappinessinhereyes,carriedawayRawdonfromthebailiff’shouse,andtheywenthomewardsinthecabinwhichshehadhastenedtohisrelease.
“Pittwasgonetoaparliamentarydinner,”shesaid,“whenRawdon’snotecame,andso,dearRawdon,I—Icamemyself”;andsheputherkindhandinhis.
PerhapsitwaswellforRawdonCrawleythatPittwasawayatthatdinner.
Rawdonthankedhissisterahundredtimes,andwithanardourofgratitudewhichtouchedandalmostalarmedthatsoft-heartedwoman.
“Oh,”saidhe,inhisrude,artlessway,“you—youdon’tknowhowI’mchangedsinceI’veknownyou,and—andlittleRawdy.I—I’dliketochangesomehow.
YouseeIwant—Iwant—tobe—”Hedidnotfinishthesentence,butshecouldinterpretit.
Andthatnightafterhelefther,andasshesatbyherownlittleboy’sbed,sheprayedhumblyforthatpoorway-wornsinner.
Rawdonleftherandwalkedhomerapidly.Itwasnineo’clockatnight.
HeranacrossthestreetsandthegreatsquaresofVanityFair,andatlengthcameupbreathlessoppositehisownhouse.
Hestartedbackandfellagainsttherailings,tremblingashelookedup.
Thedrawing-roomwindowswereblazingwithlight.
Shehadsaidthatshewasinbedandill.
Hestoodthereforsometime,thelightfromtheroomsonhispaleface.
Hetookouthisdoor-keyandlethimselfintothehouse.
Hecouldhearlaughterintheupperrooms.
Hewasintheball-dressinwhichhehadbeencapturedthenightbefore.
Hewentsilentlyupthestairs,leaningagainstthebanistersatthestair-head.
Nobodywasstirringinthehousebesides—alltheservantshadbeensentaway.
Rawdonheardlaughterwithin—laughterandsinging.
Beckywassingingasnatchofthesongofthenightbefore;ahoarsevoiceshouted“Brava!Brava!”—itwasLordSteyne’s.
Rawdonopenedthedoorandwentin.Alittletablewithadinnerwaslaidout—andwineandplate.
SteynewashangingoverthesofaonwhichBeckysat.
Thewretchedwomanwasinabrilliantfulltoilette,herarmsandallherfingerssparklingwithbraceletsandrings,andthebrilliantsonherbreastwhichSteynehadgivenher.
Hehadherhandinhis,andwasbowingoverittokissit,whenBeckystartedupwithafaintscreamasshecaughtsightofRawdon’swhiteface.
Atthenextinstantshetriedasmile,ahorridsmile,asiftowelcomeherhusband;andSteyneroseup,grindinghisteeth,pale,andwithfuryinhislooks.
He,too,attemptedalaugh—andcameforwardholdingouthishand.“What,comeback!Howd’yedo,Crawley?”hesaid,thenervesofhismouthtwitchingashetriedtogrinattheintruder.
TherewasthatinRawdon’sfacewhichcausedBeckytoflingherselfbeforehim.
“Iaminnocent,Rawdon,”shesaid;“beforeGod,Iaminnocent.”
Sheclungholdofhiscoat,ofhishands;herownwereallcoveredwithserpents,andrings,andbaubles.“Iaminnocent.
SayIaminnocent,”shesaidtoLordSteyne.
Hethoughtatraphadbeenlaidforhim,andwasasfuriouswiththewifeaswiththehusband.“Youinnocent!Damnyou,”hescreamedout.“Youinnocent!
Whyeverytrinketyouhaveonyourbodyispaidforbyme.
Ihavegivenyouthousandsofpounds,whichthisfellowhasspentandforwhichhehassoldyou.Innocent,by—!
You’reasinnocentasyourmother,theballet-girl,andyourhusbandthebully.
Don’tthinktofrightenmeasyouhavedoneothers.
Makeway,sir,andletmepass”;andLordSteyneseizeduphishat,and,withflameinhiseyes,andlookinghisenemyfiercelyintheface,marcheduponhim,neverforamomentdoubtingthattheotherwouldgiveway.
ButRawdonCrawleyspringingout,seizedhimbytheneckcloth,untilSteyne,almoststrangled,writhedandbentunderhisarm.“Youlie,youdog!”saidRawdon.“Youlie,youcowardandvillain!”
AndhestruckthePeertwiceoverthefacewithhisopenhandandflunghimbleedingtotheground.
ItwasalldonebeforeRebeccacouldinterpose.Shestoodtheretremblingbeforehim.
Sheadmiredherhusband,strong,brave,andvictorious.
“Comehere,”hesaid.Shecameupatonce.
“Takeoffthosethings.”Shebegan,trembling,pullingthejewelsfromherarms,andtheringsfromhershakingfingers,andheldthemallinaheap,quiveringandlookingupathim.
“Throwthemdown,”hesaid,andshedroppedthem.
HetorethediamondornamentoutofherbreastandflungitatLordSteyne.Itcuthimonhisbaldforehead.Steyneworethescartohisdyingday.
“Comeupstairs,”Rawdonsaidtohiswife.“Don’tkillme,Rawdon,”shesaid.Helaughedsavagely.“Iwanttoseeifthatmanliesaboutthemoneyashehasaboutme.Hashegivenyouany?”
“No,”saidRebecca,“thatis—”
“Givemeyourkeys,”Rawdonanswered,andtheywentouttogether.
Rebeccagavehimallthekeysbutone,andshewasinhopesthathewouldnothaveremarkedtheabsenceofthat.
ItbelongedtothelittledeskwhichAmeliahadgivenherinearlydays,andwhichshekeptinasecretplace.
ButRawdonflungopenboxesandwardrobes,throwingthemultifarioustrumperyoftheircontentshereandthere,andatlasthefoundthedesk.Thewomanwasforcedtoopenit.
Itcontainedpapers,love-lettersmanyyearsold—allsortsofsmalltrinketsandwoman’smemoranda.
Anditcontainedapocket-bookwithbank-notes.
Someoftheseweredatedtenyearsback,too,andonewasquiteafreshone—anoteforathousandpoundswhichLordSteynehadgivenher.
“Didhegiveyouthis?”Rawdonsaid.
“Yes,”Rebeccaanswered.
“I’llsendittohimto-day,”Rawdonsaid(fordayhaddawnedagain,andmanyhourshadpassedinthissearch),“andIwillpayBriggs,whowaskindtotheboy,andsomeofthedebts.
YouwillletmeknowwhereIshallsendtheresttoyou.
Youmighthavesparedmeahundredpounds,Becky,outofallthis—Ihavealwayssharedwithyou.”
“Iaminnocent,”saidBecky.Andheleftherwithoutanotherword.
Whatwereherthoughtswhenhelefther?
Sheremainedforhoursafterhewasgone,thesunshinepouringintotheroom,andRebeccasittingaloneonthebed’sedge.
Thedrawerswereallopenedandtheircontentsscatteredabout—dressesandfeathers,scarfsandtrinkets,aheapoftumbledvanitieslyinginawreck.
Herhairwasfallingoverhershoulders;hergownwastornwhereRawdonhadwrenchedthebrilliantsoutofit.
Sheheardhimgodownstairsafewminutesafterhelefther,andthedoorslammingandclosingonhim.Sheknewhewouldnevercomeback.Hewasgoneforever.Wouldhekillhimself?
—shethought—notuntilafterhehadmetLordSteyne.
Shethoughtofherlongpastlife,andallthedismalincidentsofit.
Ah,howdrearyitseemed,howmiserable,lonelyandprofitless!
Shouldshetakelaudanum,andendit,tohavedonewithallhopes,schemes,debts,andtriumphs?
TheFrenchmaidfoundherinthisposition—sittinginthemidstofhermiserableruinswithclaspedhandsanddryeyes.
ThewomanwasheraccompliceandinSteyne’spay.“MonDieu,madame,whathashappened?”sheasked.
Whathadhappened?Wassheguiltyornot?Shesaidnot,butwhocouldtellwhatwastruthwhichcamefromthoselips,orifthatcorruptheartwasinthiscasepure?
Allherliesandherschemes,anherselfishnessandherwiles,allherwitandgeniushadcometothisbankruptcy.
Thewomanclosedthecurtainsand,withsomeentreatyandshowofkindness,persuadedhermistresstoliedownonthebed.
ThenshewentbelowandgatheredupthetrinketswhichhadbeenlyingonthefloorsinceRebeccadroppedthemthereatherhusband’sorders,andLordSteynewentaway.
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