English
BLACKWATERPARK,HAMPSHIRE.
June11th,1850.—Sixmonthstolookbackon—sixlong,lonelymonthssinceLauraandIlastsaweachother!
HowmanydayshaveIstilltowait?Onlyone!
To-morrow,thetwelfth,thetravellersreturntoEngland.
Icanhardlyrealisemyownhappiness—Icanhardlybelievethatthenextfour-and-twentyhourswillcompletethelastdayofseparationbetweenLauraandme.
SheandherhusbandhavebeeninItalyallthewinter,andafterwardsintheTyrol.
Theycomeback,accompaniedbyCountFoscoandhiswife,whoproposetosettlesomewhereintheneighbourhoodofLondon,andwhohaveengagedtostayatBlackwaterParkforthesummermonthsbeforedecidingonaplaceofresidence.
SolongasLaurareturns,nomatterwhoreturnswithher.
SirPercivalmayfillthehousefromfloortoceiling,ifhelikes,onconditionthathiswifeandIinhabitittogether.
Meanwhile,hereIam,establishedatBlackwaterPark,“theancientandinterestingseat”(asthecountyhistoryobliginglyinformsme)“ofSirPercivalGlyde,Bart.,”andthefutureabiding-place(asImaynowventuretoaddonmyaccount)ofplainMarianHalcombe,spinster,nowsettledinasnuglittlesitting-room,withacupofteabyherside,andallherearthlypossessionsrangedroundherinthreeboxesandabag.
IleftLimmeridgeyesterday,havingreceivedLaura’sdelightfulletterfromParisthedaybefore.
IhadbeenpreviouslyuncertainwhetherIwastomeettheminLondonorinHampshire,butthislastletterinformedmethatSirPercivalproposedtolandatSouthampton,andtotravelstraightontohiscountry-house.
HehasspentsomuchmoneyabroadthathehasnonelefttodefraytheexpensesoflivinginLondonfortheremainderoftheseason,andheiseconomicallyresolvedtopassthesummerandautumnquietlyatBlackwater.
Laurahashadmorethanenoughofexcitementandchangeofscene,andispleasedattheprospectofcountrytranquillityandretirementwhichherhusband’sprudenceprovidesforher.
Asforme,Iamreadytobehappyanywhereinhersociety.
Weareall,therefore,wellcontentedinourvariousways,tobeginwith.
LastnightIsleptinLondon,andwasdelayedtheresolongto-daybyvariouscallsandcommissions,thatIdidnotreachBlackwaterthiseveningtillafterdusk.
Judgingbymyvagueimpressionsoftheplacethusfar,itistheexactoppositeofLimmeridge.
Thehouseissituatedonadeadflat,andseemstobeshutin—almostsuffocated,tomynorth-countrynotions,bytrees.
Ihaveseennobodybuttheman-servantwhoopenedthedoortome,andthehousekeeper,averycivilperson,whoshowedmethewaytomyownroom,andgotmemytea.
Ihaveanicelittleboudoirandbedroom,attheendofalongpassageonthefirstfloor.
Theservantsandsomeofthespareroomsareonthesecondfloor,andallthelivingroomsareonthegroundfloor.
Ihavenotseenoneofthemyet,andIknownothingaboutthehouse,exceptthatonewingofitissaidtobefivehundredyearsold,thatithadamoatrounditonce,andthatitgetsitsnameofBlackwaterfromalakeinthepark.
Eleveno’clockhasjuststruck,inaghostlyandsolemnmanner,fromaturretoverthecentreofthehouse,whichIsawwhenIcamein.
Alargedoghasbeenwoke,apparentlybythesoundofthebell,andishowlingandyawningdrearily,somewhereroundacorner.
Ihearechoingfootstepsinthepassagesbelow,andtheironthumpingofboltsandbarsatthehousedoor.
Theservantsareevidentlygoingtobed.ShallIfollowtheirexample?
No,Iamnothalfsleepyenough.Sleepy,didIsay?
IfeelasifIshouldneverclosemyeyesagain.
Thebareanticipationofseeingthatdearface,andhearingthatwell-knownvoiceto-morrow,keepsmeinaperpetualfeverofexcitement.
IfIonlyhadtheprivilegesofaman,IwouldorderoutSirPercival’sbesthorseinstantly,andtearawayonanight-gallop,eastward,tomeettherisingsun—along,hard,heavy,ceaselessgallopofhoursandhours,likethefamoushighwayman’sridetoYork.
Being,however,nothingbutawoman,condemnedtopatience,propriety,andpetticoatsforlife,Imustrespectthehouse-keeper’sopinions,andtrytocomposemyselfinsomefeebleandfeminineway.
Readingisoutofthequestion—Ican’tfixmyattentiononbooks.
LetmetryifIcanwritemyselfintosleepinessandfatigue.
Myjournalhasbeenverymuchneglectedoflate.
WhatcanIrecall—standing,asInowdo,onthethresholdofanewlife—ofpersonsandevents,ofchancesandchanges,duringthepastsixmonths—thelong,weary,emptyintervalsinceLaura’swedding-day?
WalterHartrightisuppermostinmymemory,andhepassesfirstintheshadowyprocessionofmyabsentfriends.
Ireceivedafewlinesfromhim,afterthelandingoftheexpeditioninHonduras,writtenmorecheerfullyandhopefullythanhehaswrittenyet.
AmonthorsixweekslaterIsawanextractfromanAmericannewspaper,describingthedepartureoftheadventurersontheirinlandjourney.
Theywerelastseenenteringawildprimevalforest,eachmanwithhisrifleonhisshoulderandhisbaggageathisback.
Sincethattime,civilisationhaslostalltraceofthem.
NotalinemorehaveIreceivedfromWalter,notafragmentofnewsfromtheexpeditionhasappearedinanyofthepublicjournals.
Thesamedense,dishearteningobscurityhangsoverthefateandfortunesofAnneCatherick,andhercompanion,Mrs.Clements.
Nothingwhateverhasbeenheardofeitherofthem.
Whethertheyareinthecountryoroutofit,whethertheyarelivingordead,nooneknows.
EvenSirPercival’ssolicitorhaslostallhope,andhasorderedtheuselesssearchafterthefugitivestobefinallygivenup.
OurgoodoldfriendMr.Gilmorehasmetwithasadcheckinhisactiveprofessionalcareer.
Earlyinthespringwewerealarmedbyhearingthathehadbeenfoundinsensibleathisdesk,andthattheseizurewaspronouncedtobeanapoplecticfit.
Hehadbeenlongcomplainingoffulnessandoppressioninthehead,andhisdoctorhadwarnedhimoftheconsequencesthatwouldfollowhispersistencyincontinuingtowork,earlyandlate,asifhewerestillayoungman.
Theresultnowisthathehasbeenpositivelyorderedtokeepoutofhisofficeforayeartocome,atleast,andtoseekreposeofbodyandreliefofmindbyaltogetherchanginghisusualmodeoflife.
Thebusinessisleft,accordingly,tobecarriedonbyhispartner,andheishimself,atthismoment,awayinGermany,visitingsomerelationswhoaresettledthereinmercantilepursuits.
Thusanothertruefriendandtrustworthyadviserislosttous—lost,Iearnestlyhopeandtrust,foratimeonly.
PoorMrs.VeseytravelledwithmeasfarasLondon.
ItwasimpossibletoabandonhertosolitudeatLimmeridgeafterLauraandIhadbothleftthehouse,andwehavearrangedthatsheistolivewithanunmarriedyoungersisterofhers,whokeepsaschoolatClapham.
Sheistocomeherethisautumntovisitherpupil—Imightalmostsayheradoptedchild.
Isawthegoodoldladysafetoherdestination,andleftherinthecareofherrelative,quietlyhappyattheprospectofseeingLauraagaininafewmonths’time.
AsforMr.Fairlie,IbelieveIamguiltyofnoinjusticeifIdescribehimasbeingunutterablyrelievedbyhavingthehouseclearofuswomen.
Theideaofhismissinghisnieceissimplypreposterous—heusedtoletmonthspassintheoldtimeswithoutattemptingtoseeher—andinmycaseandMrs.Vesey’s,Itakeleavetoconsiderhistellingusboththathewashalfheart-brokenatourdeparture,tobeequivalenttoaconfessionthathewassecretlyrejoicedtogetridofus.
Hislastcapricehasledhimtokeeptwophotographersincessantlyemployedinproducingsun-picturesofallthetreasuresandcuriositiesinhispossession.
OnecompletecopyofthecollectionofthephotographsistobepresentedtotheMechanics’InstitutionofCarlisle,mountedonthefinestcardboard,withostentatiousred-letterinscriptionsunderneath,“MadonnaandChildbyRaphael.
InthepossessionofFrederickFairlie,Esquire.”
“CoppercoinoftheperiodofTiglathPileser.
InthepossessionofFrederickFairlie,Esquire.”“UniqueRembrandtetching.
KnownalloverEuropeasTHESMUDGE,fromaprinter’sblotinthecornerwhichexistsinnoothercopy.Valuedatthreehundredguineas.
InthepossessionofFrederickFairlie,Esq.”Dozensofphotographsofthissort,andallinscribedinthismanner,werecompletedbeforeIleftCumberland,andhundredsmoreremaintobedone.
Withthisnewinteresttooccupyhim,Mr.Fairliewillbeahappymanformonthsandmonthstocome,andthetwounfortunatephotographerswillsharethesocialmartyrdomwhichhehashithertoinflictedonhisvaletalone.
Somuchforthepersonsandeventswhichholdtheforemostplaceinmymemory.
Whatnextoftheonepersonwhoholdstheforemostplaceinmyheart?
LaurahasbeenpresenttomythoughtsallthewhileIhavebeenwritingtheselines.
WhatcanIrecallofherduringthepastsixmonths,beforeIclosemyjournalforthenight?
Ihaveonlyherletterstoguideme,andonthemostimportantofallthequestionswhichourcorrespondencecandiscuss,everyoneofthoselettersleavesmeinthedark.
Doeshetreatherkindly?IsshehappiernowthanshewaswhenIpartedwithheronthewedding-day?
Allmylettershavecontainedthesetwoinquiries,putmoreorlessdirectly,nowinoneform,andnowinanother,andall,onthatpointonly,haveremainedwithoutreply,orhavebeenansweredasifmyquestionsmerelyrelatedtothestateofherhealth.
Sheinformsme,overandoveragain,thatsheisperfectlywell—thattravellingagreeswithher—thatsheisgettingthroughthewinter,forthefirsttimeinherlife,withoutcatchingcold—butnotawordcanIfindanywherewhichtellsmeplainlythatsheisreconciledtohermarriage,andthatshecannowlookbacktothetwenty-secondofDecemberwithoutanybitterfeelingsofrepentanceandregret.
Thenameofherhusbandisonlymentionedinherletters,asshemightmentionthenameofafriendwhowastravellingwiththem,andwhohadundertakentomakeallthearrangementsforthejourney.
“SirPercival”hassettledthatweleaveonsuchaday—“SirPercival”hasdecidedthatwetravelbysucharoad.
Sometimesshewrites“Percival”only,butveryseldom—inninecasesoutoftenshegiveshimhistitle.
Icannotfindthathishabitsandopinionshavechangedandcolouredhersinanysingleparticular.
Theusualmoraltransformationwhichisinsensiblywroughtinayoung,fresh,sensitivewomanbyhermarriage,seemsnevertohavetakenplaceinLaura.
Shewritesofherownthoughtsandimpressions,amidallthewondersshehasseen,exactlyasshemighthavewrittentosomeoneelse,ifIhadbeentravellingwithherinsteadofherhusband.
Iseenobetrayalanywhereofsympathyofanykindexistingbetweenthem.
Evenwhenshewandersfromthesubjectofhertravels,andoccupiesherselfwiththeprospectsthatawaitherinEngland,herspeculationsarebusiedwithherfutureasmysister,andpersistentlyneglecttonoticeherfutureasSirPercival’swife.
Inallthisthereisnoundertoneofcomplainttowarnmethatsheisabsolutelyunhappyinhermarriedlife.
TheimpressionIhavederivedfromourcorrespondencedoesnot,thankGod,leadmetoanysuchdistressingconclusionasthat.
Ionlyseeasadtorpor,anunchangeableindifference,whenIturnmymindfromherintheoldcharacterofasister,andlookather,throughthemediumofherletters,inthenewcharacterofawife.
Inotherwords,itisalwaysLauraFairliewhohasbeenwritingtomeforthelastsixmonths,andneverLadyGlyde.
Thestrangesilencewhichshemaintainsonthesubjectofherhusband’scharacterandconduct,shepreserveswithalmostequalresolutioninthefewreferenceswhichherlaterletterscontaintothenameofherhusband’sbosomfriend,CountFosco.
ForsomeunexplainedreasontheCountandhiswifeappeartohavechangedtheirplansabruptly,attheendoflastautumn,andtohavegonetoViennainsteadofgoingtoRome,atwhichlatterplaceSirPercivalhadexpectedtofindthemwhenheleftEngland.
TheyonlyquittedViennainthespring,andtravelledasfarastheTyroltomeetthebrideandbridegroomontheirhomewardjourney.
LaurawritesreadilyenoughaboutthemeetingwithMadameFosco,andassuresmethatshehasfoundherauntsomuchchangedforthebetter—somuchquieter,andsomuchmoresensibleasawifethanshewasasasinglewoman—thatIshallhardlyknowheragainwhenIseeherhere.
ButonthesubjectofCountFosco(whointerestsmeinfinitelymorethanhiswife),Lauraisprovokinglycircumspectandsilent.
Sheonlysaysthathepuzzlesher,andthatshewillnottellmewhatherimpressionofhimisuntilIhaveseenhim,andformedmyownopinionfirst.
This,tomymind,looksillfortheCount.
Laurahaspreserved,farmoreperfectlythanmostpeopledoinlaterlife,thechild’ssubtlefacultyofknowingafriendbyinstinct,andifIamrightinassumingthatherfirstimpressionofCountFoscohasnotbeenfavourable,IforoneaminsomedangerofdoubtinganddistrustingthatillustriousforeignerbeforeIhavesomuchasseteyesonhim.
But,patience,patience—thisuncertainty,andmanyuncertaintiesmore,cannotlastmuchlonger.
To-morrowwillseeallmydoubtsinafairwayofbeingclearedup,soonerorlater.
Twelveo’clockhasstruck,andIhavejustcomebacktoclosethesepages,afterlookingoutatmyopenwindow.
Itisastill,sultry,moonlessnight.Thestarsaredullandfew.
Thetreesthatshutouttheviewonallsideslookdimlyblackandsolidinthedistance,likeagreatwallofrock.
Ihearthecroakingoffrogs,faintandfaroff,andtheechoesofthegreatclockhumintheairlesscalmlongafterthestrokeshaveceased.
IwonderhowBlackwaterParkwilllookinthedaytime?Idon’taltogetherlikeitbynight.
12th.—Adayofinvestigationsanddiscoveries—amoreinterestingday,formanyreasons,thanIhadventuredtoanticipate.
Ibeganmysight-seeing,ofcourse,withthehouse.
Themainbodyofthebuildingisofthetimeofthathighly-overratedwoman,QueenElizabeth.
Onthegroundfloortherearetwohugelylonggalleries,withlowceilingslyingparallelwitheachother,andrenderedadditionallydarkanddismalbyhideousfamilyportraits—everyoneofwhichIshouldliketoburn.
Theroomsonthefloorabovethetwogalleriesarekeptintolerablerepair,butareveryseldomused.
Thecivilhousekeeper,whoactedasmyguide,offeredtoshowmeoverthem,butconsideratelyaddedthatshefearedIshouldfindthemratheroutoforder.
MyrespectfortheintegrityofmyownpetticoatsandstockingsinfinitelyexceedsmyrespectforalltheElizabethanbedroomsinthekingdom,soIpositivelydeclinedexploringtheupperregionsofdustanddirtattheriskofsoilingmynicecleanclothes.
Thehousekeepersaid,“Iamquiteofyouropinion,miss,”andappearedtothinkmethemostsensiblewomanshehadmetwithforalongtimepast.
Somuch,then,forthemainbuilding.Twowingsareaddedateitherendofit.
Thehalf-ruinedwingontheleft(asyouapproachthehouse)wasonceaplaceofresidencestandingbyitself,andwasbuiltinthefourteenthcentury.
OneofSirPercival’smaternalancestors—Idon’tremember,anddon’tcarewhich—tackedonthemainbuilding,atrightanglestoit,intheaforesaidQueenElizabeth’stime.
Thehousekeepertoldmethatthearchitectureof“theoldwing,”bothoutsideandinside,wasconsideredremarkablyfinebygoodjudges.
OnfurtherinvestigationIdiscoveredthatgoodjudgescouldonlyexercisetheirabilitiesonSirPercival’spieceofantiquitybypreviouslydismissingfromtheirmindsallfearofdamp,darkness,andrats.
Underthesecircumstances,Iunhesitatinglyacknowledgedmyselftobenojudgeatall,andsuggestedthatweshouldtreat“theoldwing”preciselyaswehadpreviouslytreatedtheElizabethanbedrooms.
Oncemorethehousekeepersaid,“Iamquiteofyouropinion,miss,”andoncemoreshelookedatmewithundisguisedadmirationofmyextraordinarycommon-sense.
Wewentnexttothewingontheright,whichwasbuilt,bywayofcompletingthewonderfularchitecturaljumbleatBlackwaterPark,inthetimeofGeorgetheSecond.
Thisisthehabitablepartofthehouse,whichhasbeenrepairedandredecoratedinsideonLaura’saccount.
Mytworooms,andallthegoodbedroomsbesides,areonthefirstfloor,andthebasementcontainsadrawing-room,adining-room,amorning-room,alibrary,andaprettylittleboudoirforLaura,allverynicelyornamentedinthebrightmodernway,andallveryelegantlyfurnishedwiththedelightfulmodernluxuries.
NoneoftheroomsareanythinglikesolargeandairyasourroomsatLimmeridge,buttheyalllookpleasanttolivein.
Iwasterriblyafraid,fromwhatIhadheardofBlackwaterPark,offatiguingantiquechairs,anddismalstainedglass,andmusty,frouzyhangings,andallthebarbarouslumberwhichpeoplebornwithoutasenseofcomfortaccumulateaboutthem,indefianceoftheconsiderationduetotheconvenienceoftheirfriends.
Itisaninexpressiblerelieftofindthatthenineteenthcenturyhasinvadedthisstrangefuturehomeofmine,andhassweptthedirty“goodoldtimes”outofthewayofourdailylife.
Idawdledawaythemorning—partofthetimeintheroomsdownstairs,andpartoutofdoorsinthegreatsquarewhichisformedbythethreesidesofthehouse,andbytheloftyironrailingsandgateswhichprotectitinfront.
Alargecircularfishpondwithstonesides,andanallegoricalleadenmonsterinthemiddle,occupiesthecentreofthesquare.
Theponditselfisfullofgoldandsilverfish,andisencircledbyabroadbeltofthesoftestturfIeverwalkedon.
Iloiteredhereontheshadysidepleasantlyenoughtillluncheon-time,andafterthattookmybroadstrawhatandwanderedoutaloneinthewarmlovelysunlighttoexplorethegrounds.
DaylightconfirmedtheimpressionwhichIhadfeltthenightbefore,oftherebeingtoomanytreesatBlackwater.Thehouseisstifledbythem.
Theyare,forthemostpart,young,andplantedfartoothickly.
IsuspecttheremusthavebeenaruinouscuttingdownoftimberallovertheestatebeforeSirPercival’stime,andanangryanxietyonthepartofthenextpossessortofillupallthegapsasthicklyandrapidlyaspossible.
Afterlookingaboutmeinfrontofthehouse,Iobservedaflower-gardenonmylefthand,andwalkedtowardsittoseewhatIcoulddiscoverinthatdirection.
Onanearerviewthegardenprovedtobesmallandpoorandillkept.Ileftitbehindme,openedalittlegateinaringfence,andfoundmyselfinaplantationoffir-trees.
Aprettywindingpath,artificiallymade,ledmeonamongthetrees,andmynorth-countryexperiencesooninformedmethatIwasapproachingsandy,heathyground.
Afterawalkofmorethanhalfamile,Ishouldthink,amongthefirs,thepathtookasharpturn—thetreesabruptlyceasedtoappearoneithersideofme,andIfoundmyselfstandingsuddenlyonthemarginofavastopenspace,andlookingdownattheBlackwaterlakefromwhichthehousetakesitsname.
Theground,shelvingawaybelowme,wasallsand,withafewlittleheathyhillockstobreakthemonotonyofitincertainplaces.
ThelakeitselfhadevidentlyonceflowedtothespotonwhichIstood,andhadbeengraduallywastedanddrieduptolessthanathirdofitsformersize.
Isawitsstill,stagnantwaters,aquarterofamileawayfrommeinthehollow,separatedintopoolsandpondsbytwiningreedsandrushes,andlittleknollsofearth.
Onthefartherbankfrommethetreesrosethicklyagain,andshutouttheview,andcasttheirblackshadowsonthesluggish,shallowwater.
AsIwalkeddowntothelake,Isawthatthegroundonitsfarthersidewasdampandmarshy,overgrownwithrankgrassanddismalwillows.
Thewater,whichwasclearenoughontheopensandyside,wherethesunshone,lookedblackandpoisonousoppositetome,whereitlaydeeperundertheshadeofthespongybanks,andtherankoverhangingthicketsandtangledtrees.
Thefrogswerecroaking,andtheratswereslippinginandoutoftheshadowywater,likeliveshadowsthemselves,asIgotnearertothemarshysideofthelake.
Isawhere,lyinghalfinandhalfoutofthewater,therottenwreckofanoldoverturnedboat,withasicklyspotofsunlightglimmeringthroughagapinthetreesonitsdrysurface,andasnakebaskinginthemidstofthespot,fantasticallycoiledandtreacherouslystill.
Farandneartheviewsuggestedthesamedrearyimpressionsofsolitudeanddecay,andthegloriousbrightnessofthesummerskyoverheadseemedonlytodeepenandhardenthegloomandbarrennessofthewildernessonwhichitshone.
Iturnedandretracedmystepstothehighheathyground,directingthemalittleasidefrommyformerpathtowardsashabbyoldwoodenshed,whichstoodontheouterskirtofthefirplantation,andwhichhadhithertobeentoounimportanttosharemynoticewiththewide,wildprospectofthelake.
OnapproachingtheshedIfoundthatithadoncebeenaboat-house,andthatanattempthadapparentlybeenmadetoconvertitafterwardsintoasortofrudearbour,byplacinginsideitafirwoodseat,afewstools,andatable.
Ienteredtheplace,andsatdownforalittlewhiletorestandgetmybreathagain.
Ihadnotbeenintheboat-housemorethanaminutewhenitstruckmethatthesoundofmyownquickbreathingwasverystrangelyechoedbysomethingbeneathme.
Ilistenedintentlyforamoment,andheardalow,thick,sobbingbreaththatseemedtocomefromthegroundundertheseatwhichIwasoccupying.
Mynervesarenoteasilyshakenbytrifles,butonthisoccasionIstartedtomyfeetinafright—calledout—receivednoanswer—summonedbackmyrecreantcourage,andlookedundertheseat.
There,crouchedupinthefarthestcorner,laytheforlorncauseofmyterror,intheshapeofapoorlittledog—ablackandwhitespaniel.
ThecreaturemoanedfeeblywhenIlookedatitandcalledtoit,butneverstirred.
Imovedawaytheseatandlookedcloser.
Thepoorlittledog’seyeswereglazingfast,andtherewerespotsofbloodonitsglossywhiteside.
Themiseryofaweak,helpless,dumbcreatureissurelyoneofthesaddestofallthemournfulsightswhichthisworldcanshow.
IliftedthepoordoginmyarmsasgentlyasIcould,andcontrivedasortofmake-shifthammockforhimtoliein,bygatheringupthefrontofmydressallroundhim.
InthiswayItookthecreature,aspainlesslyaspossible,andasfastaspossible,backtothehouse.
FindingnooneinthehallIwentupatoncetomyownsitting-room,madeabedforthedogwithoneofmyoldshawls,andrangthebell.
Thelargestandfattestofallpossiblehouse-maidsansweredit,inastateofcheerfulstupiditywhichwouldhaveprovokedthepatienceofasaint.
Thegirl’sfat,shapelessfaceactuallystretchedintoabroadgrinatthesightofthewoundedcreatureonthefloor.
“Whatdoyouseetheretolaughat?”Iasked,asangrilyasifshehadbeenaservantofmyown.“Doyouknowwhosedogitis?”
“No,miss,thatIcertainlydon’t.”Shestooped,andlookeddownatthespaniel’sinjuredside—brightenedsuddenlywiththeirradiationofanewidea—andpointingtothewoundwithachuckleofsatisfaction,said,“That’sBaxter’sdoings,thatis.”
IwassoexasperatedthatIcouldhaveboxedherears.“Baxter?”Isaid.“WhoisthebruteyoucallBaxter?”
Thegirlgrinnedagainmorecheerfullythanever.“Blessyou,miss!
Baxter’sthekeeper,andwhenhefindsstrangedogshuntingabout,hetakesandshoots’em.
It’skeeper’sdootymiss,Ithinkthatdogwilldie.Here’swherehe’sbeenshot,ain’tit?That’sBaxter’sdoings,thatis.
Baxter’sdoings,miss,andBaxter’sdooty.”
IwasalmostwickedenoughtowishthatBaxterhadshotthehousemaidinsteadofthedog.
Seeingthatitwasquiteuselesstoexpectthisdenselyimpenetrablepersonagetogivemeanyhelpinrelievingthesufferingcreatureatourfeet,Itoldhertorequestthehousekeeper’sattendancewithmycompliments.
Shewentoutexactlyasshehadcomein,grinningfromeartoear.
Asthedoorclosedonhershesaidtoherselfsoftly,“It’sBaxter’sdoingsandBaxter’sdooty—that’swhatitis.”
Thehousekeeper,apersonofsomeeducationandintelligence,thoughtfullybroughtupstairswithhersomemilkandsomewarmwater.
Theinstantshesawthedogonthefloorshestartedandchangedcolour.
“Why,Lordblessme,”criedthehousekeeper,“thatmustbeMrs.Catherick’sdog!”
“Whose?”Iasked,intheutmostastonishment.
“Mrs.Catherick’s.YouseemtoknowMrs.Catherick,MissHalcombe?”
“Notpersonally,butIhaveheardofher.Doesshelivehere?Hasshehadanynewsofherdaughter?”
“No,MissHalcombe,shecameheretoaskfornews.”
“When?”
“Onlyyesterday.Shesaidsomeonehadreportedthatastrangeransweringtothedescriptionofherdaughterhadbeenseeninourneighbourhood.
Nosuchreporthasreachedushere,andnosuchreportwasknowninthevillage,whenIsenttomakeinquiriesthereonMrs.Catherick’saccount.
Shecertainlybroughtthispoorlittledogwithherwhenshecame,andIsawittrotoutafterherwhenshewentaway.
Isupposethecreaturestrayedintotheplantations,andgotshot.Wheredidyoufindit,MissHalcombe?”
“Intheoldshedthatlooksoutonthelake.”
“Ah,yes,thatistheplantationside,andthepoorthingdraggeditself,Isuppose,tothenearestshelter,asdogswill,todie.
Ifyoucanmoistenitslipswiththemilk,MissHalcombe,Iwillwashtheclottedhairfromthewound.
Iamverymuchafraiditistoolatetodoanygood.However,wecanbuttry.”
Mrs.Catherick!Thenamestillranginmyears,asifthehousekeeperhadonlythatmomentsurprisedmebyutteringit.
Whilewewereattendingtothedog,thewordsofWalterHartright’scautiontomereturnedtomymemory:“IfeverAnneCatherickcrossesyourpath,makebetteruseoftheopportunity,MissHalcombe,thanImadeofit.”
ThefindingofthewoundedspanielhadledmealreadytothediscoveryofMrs.Catherick’svisittoBlackwaterPark,andthateventmightleadinitsturn,tosomethingmore.
Ideterminedtomakethemostofthechancewhichwasnowofferedtome,andtogainasmuchinformationasIcould.
“DidyousaythatMrs.Cathericklivedanywhereinthisneighbourhood?”Iasked.
“Ohdear,no,”saidthehousekeeper.“ShelivesatWelmingham,quiteattheotherendofthecounty—five-and-twentymilesoff,atleast.”
“IsupposeyouhaveknownMrs.Catherickforsomeyears?”
“Onthecontrary,MissHalcombe,Ineversawherbeforeshecamehereyesterday.
Ihadheardofher,ofcourse,becauseIhadheardofSirPercival’skindnessinputtingherdaughterundermedicalcare.
Mrs.Catherickisratherastrangepersoninhermanners,butextremelyrespectable-looking.
Sheseemedsorelyputoutwhenshefoundthattherewasnofoundation—none,atleast,thatanyofuscoulddiscover—forthereportofherdaughterhavingbeenseeninthisneighbourhood.”
“IamratherinterestedaboutMrs.Catherick,”Iwenton,continuingtheconversationaslongaspossible.
“IwishIhadarrivedheresoonenoughtoseeheryesterday.Didshestayforanylengthoftime?”
“Yes,”saidthehousekeeper,“shestayedforsometime;andIthinkshewouldhaveremainedlonger,ifIhadnotbeencalledawaytospeaktoastrangegentleman—agentlemanwhocametoaskwhenSirPercivalwasexpectedback.
Mrs.Catherickgotupandleftatonce,whensheheardthemaidtellmewhatthevisitor’serrandwas.
Shesaidtome,atparting,thattherewasnoneedtotellSirPercivalofhercominghere.
Ithoughtthatratheranoddremarktomake,especiallytoapersoninmyresponsiblesituation.”
Ithoughtitanoddremarktoo.SirPercivalhadcertainlyledmetobelieve,atLimmeridge,thatthemostperfectconfidenceexistedbetweenhimselfandMrs.Catherick.
Ifthatwasthecase,whyshouldshebeanxioustohavehervisitatBlackwaterParkkeptasecretfromhim?
“Probably,”Isaid,seeingthatthehousekeeperexpectedmetogivemyopiniononMrs.Catherick’spartingwords,“probablyshethoughttheannouncementofhervisitmightvexSirPercivaltonopurpose,byremindinghimthatherlostdaughterwasnotfoundyet.Didshetalkmuchonthatsubject?”
“Verylittle,”repliedthehousekeeper.“ShetalkedprincipallyofSirPercival,andaskedagreatmanyquestionsaboutwherehehadbeentravelling,andwhatsortofladyhisnewwifewas.
Sheseemedtobemoresouredandputoutthandistressed,byfailingtofindanytracesofherdaughterintheseparts.
‘Igiveherup,’werethelastwordsshesaidthatIcanremember;‘Igiveherup,ma’am,forlost.’
AndfromthatshepassedatoncetoherquestionsaboutLadyGlyde,wantingtoknowifshewasahandsome,amiablelady,comelyandhealthyandyoung——Ah,dear!Ithoughthowitwouldend.
Look,MissHalcombe,thepoorthingisoutofitsmiseryatlast!”
Thedogwasdead.Ithadgivenafaint,sobbingcry,ithadsufferedaninstant’sconvulsionofthelimbs,justasthoselastwords,“comelyandhealthyandyoung,”droppedfromthehousekeeper’slips.
Thechangehadhappenedwithstartlingsuddenness—inonemomentthecreaturelaylifelessunderourhands.
Eighto’clock.Ihavejustreturnedfromdiningdownstairs,insolitarystate.
ThesunsetisburningredlyonthewildernessoftreesthatIseefrommywindow,andIamporingovermyjournalagain,tocalmmyimpatienceforthereturnofthetravellers.
Theyoughttohavearrived,bymycalculations,beforethis.
Howstillandlonelythehouseisinthedrowsyeveningquiet!Ohme!
howmanyminutesmorebeforeIhearthecarriagewheelsandrundownstairstofindmyselfinLaura’sarms?
Thepoorlittledog!IwishmyfirstdayatBlackwaterParkhadnotbeenassociatedwithdeath,thoughitisonlythedeathofastrayanimal.
Welmingham—Isee,onlookingbackthroughtheseprivatepagesofmine,thatWelminghamisthenameoftheplacewhereMrs.Cathericklives.
Hernoteisstillinmypossession,thenoteinanswertothatletteraboutherunhappydaughterwhichSirPercivalobligedmetowrite.
Oneofthesedays,whenIcanfindasafeopportunity,Iwilltakethenotewithmebywayofintroduction,andtrywhatIcanmakeofMrs.Catherickatapersonalinterview.
Idon’tunderstandherwishingtoconcealhervisittothisplacefromSirPercival’sknowledge,andIdon’tfeelhalfsosure,asthehousekeeperseemstodo,thatherdaughterAnneisnotintheneighbourhoodafterall.
WhatwouldWalterHartrighthavesaidinthisemergency?Poor,dearHartright!
Iambeginningtofeelthewantofhishonestadviceandhiswillinghelpalready.
SurelyIheardsomething.Wasitabustleoffootstepsbelowstairs?Yes!Ihearthehorses’feet—Iheartherollingwheels——
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