English
June16th.—Ihaveafewlinesmoretoaddtothisday’sentrybeforeIgotobedto-night.
AbouttwohoursafterSirPercivalrosefromtheluncheon-tabletoreceivehissolicitor,Mr.Merriman,inthelibrary,Ileftmyroomalonetotakeawalkintheplantations.
JustasIwasattheendofthelandingthelibrarydooropenedandthetwogentlemencameout.
Thinkingitbestnottodisturbthembyappearingonthestairs,Iresolvedtodefergoingdowntilltheyhadcrossedthehall.
Althoughtheyspoketoeachotheringuardedtones,theirwordswerepronouncedwithsufficientdistinctnessofutterancetoreachmyears.
“Makeyourmindeasy,SirPercival,”Iheardthelawyersay;“itallrestswithLadyGlyde.”
Ihadturnedtogobacktomyownroomforaminuteortwo,butthesoundofLaura’snameonthelipsofastrangerstoppedmeinstantly.
Idaresayitwasverywrongandverydiscreditabletolisten,butwhereisthewoman,inthewholerangeofoursex,whocanregulateheractionsbytheabstractprinciplesofhonour,whenthoseprinciplespointoneway,andwhenheraffections,andtheinterestswhichgrowoutofthem,pointtheother?
Ilistened—andundersimilarcircumstancesIwouldlistenagain—yes!withmyearatthekeyhole,ifIcouldnotpossiblymanageitinanyotherway.
“Youquiteunderstand,SirPercival,”thelawyerwenton.
“LadyGlydeistosignhernameinthepresenceofawitness—oroftwowitnesses,ifyouwishtobeparticularlycareful—andisthentoputherfingeronthesealandsay,‘Ideliverthisasmyactanddeed.’
Ifthatisdoneinaweek’stimethearrangementwillbeperfectlysuccessful,andtheanxietywillbeallover.Ifnot——”
“Whatdoyoumeanby‘ifnot’?”askedSirPercivalangrily.“IfthethingmustbedoneitSHALLbedone.Ipromiseyouthat,Merriman.”
“Justso,SirPercival—justso;buttherearetwoalternativesinalltransactions,andwelawyersliketolookbothoftheminthefaceboldly.
Ifthroughanyextraordinarycircumstancethearrangementshouldnotbemade,IthinkImaybeabletogetthepartiestoacceptbillsatthreemonths.
Buthowthemoneyistoberaisedwhenthebillsfalldue——”
“Damnthebills!Themoneyisonlytobegotinoneway,andinthatway,Itellyouagain,itSHALLbegot.Takeaglassofwine,Merriman,beforeyougo.”
“Muchobliged,SirPercival,IhavenotamomenttoloseifIamtocatchtheup-train.
Youwillletmeknowassoonasthearrangementiscomplete?
andyouwillnotforgetthecautionIrecommended——”
“OfcourseIwon’t.There’sthedog-cartatthedoorforyou.
Mygroomwillgetyoutothestationinnotime.Benjamin,drivelikemad!Jumpin.
IfMr.Merrimanmissesthetrainyouloseyourplace.
Holdfast,Merriman,andifyouareupsettrusttothedeviltosavehisown.”
Withthatpartingbenedictionthebaronetturnedaboutandwalkedbacktothelibrary.
Ihadnotheardmuch,butthelittlethathadreachedmyearswasenoughtomakemefeeluneasy.
The“something”that“hadhappened”wasbuttooplainlyaseriousmoneyembarrassment,andSirPercival’srelieffromitdependeduponLaura.
Theprospectofseeingherinvolvedinherhusband’ssecretdifficultiesfilledmewithdismay,exaggerated,nodoubt,bymyignoranceofbusinessandmysettleddistrustofSirPercival.
Insteadofgoingout,asIproposed,IwentbackimmediatelytoLaura’sroomtotellherwhatIhadheard.
Shereceivedmybadnewssocomposedlyastosurpriseme.Sheevidentlyknowsmoreofherhusband’scharacterandherhusband’sembarrassmentsthanIhavesuspecteduptothistime.
“Ifearedasmuch,”shesaid,“whenIheardofthatstrangegentlemanwhocalled,anddeclinedtoleavehisname.”
“Whodoyouthinkthegentlemanwas,then?”Iasked.
“SomepersonwhohasheavyclaimsonSirPercival,”sheanswered,“andwhohasbeenthecauseofMr.Merriman’svisithereto-day.”
“Doyouknowanythingaboutthoseclaims?”
“No,Iknownoparticulars.”
“Youwillsignnothing,Laura,withoutfirstlookingatit?”
“Certainlynot,Marian.WhateverIcanharmlesslyandhonestlydotohelphimIwilldo—forthesakeofmakingyourlifeandmine,love,aseasyandashappyaspossible.
ButIwilldonothingignorantly,whichwemight,oneday,havereasontofeelashamedof.Letussaynomoreaboutitnow.
Youhavegotyourhaton—supposewegoanddreamawaytheafternooninthegrounds?”
Onleavingthehousewedirectedourstepstothenearestshade.
Aswepassedanopenspaceamongthetreesinfrontofthehouse,therewasCountFosco,slowlywalkingbackwardsandforwardsonthegrass,sunninghimselfinthefullblazeofthehotJuneafternoon.
Hehadabroadstrawhaton,withaviolet-colouredribbonroundit.
Ablueblouse,withprofusewhitefancy-workoverthebosom,coveredhisprodigiousbody,andwasgirtabouttheplacewherehiswaistmightoncehavebeenwithabroadscarletleatherbelt.
Nankeentrousers,displayingmorewhitefancy-workovertheankles,andpurplemoroccoslippers,adornedhislowerextremities.
HewassingingFigaro’sfamoussongintheBarberofSeville,withthatcrisplyfluentvocalisationwhichisneverheardfromanyotherthananItalianthroat,accompanyinghimselfontheconcertina,whichheplayedwithecstaticthrowings-upofhisarms,andgracefultwistingsandturningsofhishead,likeafatSt.Ceciliamasqueradinginmaleattire.“Figaroqua!Figarola!Figarosu!Figarogiu!”
sangtheCount,jauntilytossinguptheconcertinaatarm’slength,andbowingtous,ononesideoftheinstrument,withtheairygraceandeleganceofFigarohimselfattwentyyearsofage.
“Takemywordforit,Laura,thatmanknowssomethingofSirPercival’sembarrassments,”Isaid,aswereturnedtheCount’ssalutationfromasafedistance.
“Whatmakesyouthinkthat?”sheasked.
“Howshouldhehaveknown,otherwise,thatMr.MerrimanwasSirPercival’ssolicitor?”Irejoined.
“Besides,whenIfollowedyououtoftheluncheon-room,hetoldme,withoutasinglewordofinquiryonmypart,thatsomethinghadhappened.
Dependuponit,heknowsmorethanwedo.”
“Don’taskhimanyquestionsifhedoes.Don’ttakehimintoourconfidence!”
“Youseemtodislikehim,Laura,inaverydeterminedmanner.Whathashesaidordonetojustifyyou?”
“Nothing,Marian.Onthecontrary,hewasallkindnessandattentiononourjourneyhome,andheseveraltimescheckedSirPercival’soutbreaksoftemper,inthemostconsideratemannertowardsme.
PerhapsIdislikehimbecausehehassomuchmorepowerovermyhusbandthanIhave.
Perhapsithurtsmypridetobeunderanyobligationstohisinterference.AllIknowis,thatIDOdislikehim.”
Therestofthedayandeveningpassedquietlyenough.TheCountandIplayedatchess.
Forthefirsttwogameshepolitelyallowedmetoconquerhim,andthen,whenhesawthatIhadfoundhimout,beggedmypardon,andatthethirdgamecheckmatedmeintenminutes.
SirPercivalneveroncereferred,allthroughtheevening,tothelawyer’svisit.
Buteitherthatevent,orsomethingelse,hadproducedasingularalterationforthebetterinhim.
Hewasaspoliteandagreeabletoallofus,asheusedtobeinthedaysofhisprobationatLimmeridge,andhewassoamazinglyattentiveandkindtohiswife,thatevenicyMadameFoscowasrousedintolookingathimwithagravesurprise.Whatdoesthismean?
IthinkIcanguess—IamafraidLauracanguess—andIamsureCountFoscoknows.
IcaughtSirPercivallookingathimforapprovalmorethanonceinthecourseoftheevening.
June17th.—Adayofevents.ImostferventlyhopeImaynothavetoadd,adayofdisastersaswell.
SirPercivalwasassilentatbreakfastashehadbeentheeveningbefore,onthesubjectofthemysterious“arrangement”(asthelawyercalledit)whichishangingoverourheads.
Anhourafterwards,however,hesuddenlyenteredthemorning-room,wherehiswifeandIwerewaiting,withourhatson,forMadameFoscotojoinus,andinquiredfortheCount.
“Weexpecttoseehimheredirectly,”Isaid.
“Thefactis,”SirPercivalwenton,walkingnervouslyabouttheroom,“IwantFoscoandhiswifeinthelibrary,foramerebusinessformality,andIwantyouthere,Laura,foraminutetoo.”
Hestopped,andappearedtonotice,forthefirsttime,thatwewereinourwalkingcostume.“Haveyoujustcomein?”heasked,“orwereyoujustgoingout?”
“Wewereallthinkingofgoingtothelakethismorning,”saidLaura.“Butifyouhaveanyotherarrangementtopropose——”
“No,no,”heansweredhastily.“Myarrangementcanwait.
Afterlunchwilldoaswellforitasafterbreakfast.Allgoingtothelake,eh?Agoodidea.
Let’shaveanidlemorning—I’llbeoneoftheparty.”
Therewasnomistakinghismanner,evenifithadbeenpossibletomistaketheuncharacteristicreadinesswhichhiswordsexpressed,tosubmithisownplansandprojectstotheconvenienceofothers.
Hewasevidentlyrelievedatfindinganyexcusefordelayingthebusinessformalityinthelibrary,towhichhisownwordshadreferred.
MyheartsankwithinmeasIdrewtheinevitableinference.
TheCountandhiswifejoinedusatthatmoment.
Theladyhadherhusband’sembroideredtobacco-pouch,andherstoreofpaperinherhand,forthemanufactureoftheeternalcigarettes.
Thegentleman,dressed,asusual,inhisblouseandstrawhat,carriedthegaylittlepagoda-cage,withhisdarlingwhitemiceinit,andsmiledonthem,andonus,withablandamiabilitywhichitwasimpossibletoresist.
“Withyourkindpermission,”saidtheCount,“Iwilltakemysmallfamilyhere—mypoor-little-harmless-pretty-Mouseys,outforanairingalongwithus.
Therearedogsaboutthehouse,andshallIleavemyforlornwhitechildrenatthemerciesofthedogs?Ah,never!”
Hechirrupedpaternallyathissmallwhitechildrenthroughthebarsofthepagoda,andweallleftthehouseforthelake.
IntheplantationSirPercivalstrayedawayfromus.
Itseemstobepartofhisrestlessdispositionalwaystoseparatehimselffromhiscompanionsontheseoccasions,andalwaystooccupyhimselfwhenheisaloneincuttingnewwalking-sticksforhisownuse.
Themereactofcuttingandloppingathazardappearstopleasehim.
Hehasfilledthehousewithwalking-sticksofhisownmaking,notoneofwhichheevertakesupforasecondtime.
Whentheyhavebeenonceusedhisinterestinthemisallexhausted,andhethinksofnothingbutgoingonandmakingmore.
Attheoldboat-househejoinedusagain.
Iwillputdowntheconversationthatensuedwhenwewereallsettledinourplacesexactlyasitpassed.
Itisanimportantconversation,sofarasIamconcerned,forithasseriouslydisposedmetodistrusttheinfluencewhichCountFoscohasexercisedovermythoughtsandfeelings,andtoresistitforthefutureasresolutelyasIcan.
Theboat-housewaslargeenoughtoholdusall,butSirPercivalremainedoutsidetrimmingthelastnewstickwithhispocket-axe.
Wethreewomenfoundplentyofroomonthelargeseat.
Lauratookherwork,andMadameFoscobeganhercigarettes.I,asusual,hadnothingtodo.
Myhandsalwayswere,andalwayswillbe,asawkwardasaman’s.
TheCountgood-humouredlytookastoolmanysizestoosmallforhim,andbalancedhimselfonitwithhisbackagainstthesideoftheshed,whichcreakedandgroanedunderhisweight.
Heputthepagoda-cageonhislap,andletoutthemicetocrawloverhimasusual.
Theyarepretty,innocent-lookinglittlecreatures,butthesightofthemcreepingaboutaman’sbodyisforsomereasonnotpleasanttome.
Itexcitesastrangeresponsivecreepinginmyownnerves,andsuggestshideousideasofmendyinginprisonwiththecrawlingcreaturesofthedungeonpreyingonthemundisturbed.
Themorningwaswindyandcloudy,andtherapidalternationsofshadowandsunlightoverthewasteofthelakemadetheviewlookdoublywild,weird,andgloomy.
“Somepeoplecallthatpicturesque,”saidSirPercival,pointingoverthewideprospectwithhishalf-finishedwalking-stick.
“Icallitablotonagentleman’sproperty.
Inmygreat-grandfather’stimethelakeflowedtothisplace.Lookatitnow!
Itisnotfourfeetdeepanywhere,anditisallpuddlesandpools.
IwishIcouldaffordtodrainit,andplantitallover.
Mybailiff(asuperstitiousidiot)saysheisquitesurethelakehasacurseonit,liketheDeadSea.Whatdoyouthink,Fosco?
Itlooksjusttheplaceforamurder,doesn’tit?”
“MygoodPercival,”remonstratedtheCount.
“WhatisyoursolidEnglishsensethinkingof?
Thewateristooshallowtohidethebody,andthereissandeverywheretoprintoffthemurderer’sfootsteps.
Itis,uponthewhole,theveryworstplaceforamurderthatIeversetmyeyeson.”
“Humbug!”saidSirPercival,cuttingawayfiercelyathisstick.“YouknowwhatImean.
Thedrearyscenery,thelonelysituation.
Ifyouchoosetounderstandme,youcan—ifyoudon’tchoose,Iamnotgoingtotroublemyselftoexplainmymeaning.”
“Andwhynot,”askedtheCount,“whenyourmeaningcanbeexplainedbyanybodyintwowords?
Ifafoolwasgoingtocommitamurder,yourlakeisthefirstplacehewouldchooseforit.
Ifawisemanwasgoingtocommitamurder,yourlakeisthelastplacehewouldchooseforit.Isthatyourmeaning?
Ifitis,thereisyourexplanationforyoureadymade.
Takeit,Percival,withyourgoodFosco’sblessing.”
LauralookedattheCountwithherdislikeforhimappearingalittletooplainlyinherface.Hewassobusywithhismicethathedidnotnoticeher.
“Iamsorrytohearthelake-viewconnectedwithanythingsohorribleastheideaofmurder,”shesaid.
“AndifCountFoscomustdividemurderersintoclasses,Ithinkhehasbeenveryunfortunateinhischoiceofexpressions.
Todescribethemasfoolsonlyseemsliketreatingthemwithanindulgencetowhichtheyhavenoclaim.
Andtodescribethemaswisemensoundstomelikeadownrightcontradictioninterms.
Ihavealwaysheardthattrulywisemenaretrulygoodmen,andhaveahorrorofcrime.”
“Mydearlady,”saidtheCount,“thoseareadmirablesentiments,andIhaveseenthemstatedatthetopsofcopy-books.”
Heliftedoneofthewhitemiceinthepalmofhishand,andspoketoitinhiswhimsicalway.
“Myprettylittlesmoothwhiterascal,”hesaid,“hereisamorallessonforyou.
Atrulywisemouseisatrulygoodmouse.
Mentionthat,ifyouplease,toyourcompanions,andnevergnawatthebarsofyourcageagainaslongasyoulive.”
“Itiseasytoturneverythingintoridicule,”saidLauraresolutely;“butyouwillnotfinditquitesoeasy,CountFosco,togivemeaninstanceofawisemanwhohasbeenagreatcriminal.”
TheCountshruggedhishugeshoulders,andsmiledonLaurainthefriendliestmanner.
“Mosttrue!”hesaid.
“Thefool’scrimeisthecrimethatisfoundout,andthewiseman’scrimeisthecrimethatisNOTfoundout.
IfIcouldgiveyouaninstance,itwouldnotbetheinstanceofawiseman.
DearLadyGlyde,yoursoundEnglishcommonsensehasbeentoomuchforme.
Itischeckmateformethistime,MissHalcombe—ha?”
“Standtoyourguns,Laura,”sneeredSirPercival,whohadbeenlisteninginhisplaceatthedoor.
“Tellhimnext,thatcrimescausetheirowndetection.
There’sanotherbitofcopy-bookmoralityforyou,Fosco.Crimescausetheirowndetection.Whatinfernalhumbug!”
“Ibelieveittobetrue,”saidLauraquietly.
SirPercivalburstoutlaughing,soviolently,sooutrageously,thathequitestartledusall—theCountmorethananyofus.
“Ibelieveittoo,”Isaid,comingtoLaura’srescue.
SirPercival,whohadbeenunaccountablyamusedathiswife’sremark,wasjustasunaccountablyirritatedbymine.Hestruckthenewsticksavagelyonthesand,andwalkedawayfromus.
“PoordearPercival!”criedCountFosco,lookingafterhimgaily,“heisthevictimofEnglishspleen.
But,mydearMissHalcombe,mydearLadyGlyde,doyoureallybelievethatcrimescausetheirowndetection?
Andyou,myangel,”hecontinued,turningtohiswife,whohadnotutteredawordyet,“doyouthinksotoo?”
“Iwaittobeinstructed,”repliedtheCountess,intonesoffreezingreproof,intendedforLauraandme,“beforeIventureongivingmyopinioninthepresenceofwell-informedmen.”
“Doyou,indeed?”Isaid.“Irememberthetime,Countess,whenyouadvocatedtheRightsofWomen,andfreedomoffemaleopinionwasoneofthem.”
“Whatisyourviewofthesubject,Count?”askedMadameFosco,calmlyproceedingwithhercigarettes,andnottakingtheleastnoticeofme.
TheCountstrokedoneofhiswhitemicereflectivelywithhischubbylittlefingerbeforeheanswered.
“Itistrulywonderful,”hesaid,“howeasilySocietycanconsoleitselffortheworstofitsshortcomingswithalittlebitofclap-trap.
Themachineryithassetupforthedetectionofcrimeismiserablyineffective—andyetonlyinventamoralepigram,sayingthatitworkswell,andyoublindeverybodytoitsblundersfromthatmoment.
Crimescausetheirowndetection,dothey?
Andmurderwillout(anothermoralepigram),willit?
AskCoronerswhositatinquestsinlargetownsifthatistrue,LadyGlyde.
Asksecretariesoflife-assurancecompaniesifthatistrue,MissHalcombe.Readyourownpublicjournals.
Inthefewcasesthatgetintothenewspapers,aretherenotinstancesofslainbodiesfound,andnomurdererseverdiscovered?
MultiplythecasesthatarereportedbythecasesthatareNOTreported,andthebodiesthatarefoundbythebodiesthatareNOTfound,andwhatconclusiondoyoucometo?This.
Thattherearefoolishcriminalswhoarediscovered,andwisecriminalswhoescape.
Thehidingofacrime,orthedetectionofacrime,whatisit?
Atrialofskillbetweenthepoliceononeside,andtheindividualontheother.
Whenthecriminalisabrutal,ignorantfool,thepoliceinninecasesoutoftenwin.
Whenthecriminalisaresolute,educated,highly-intelligentman,thepoliceinninecasesoutoftenlose.
Ifthepolicewin,yougenerallyhearallaboutit.
Ifthepolicelose,yougenerallyhearnothing.
AndonthistotteringfoundationyoubuildupyourcomfortablemoralmaximthatCrimecausesitsowndetection!Yes—allthecrimeyouknowof.Andwhatoftherest?”
“Devilishtrue,andverywellput,”criedavoiceattheentranceoftheboat-house.SirPercivalhadrecoveredhisequanimity,andhadcomebackwhilewewerelisteningtotheCount.
“Someofitmaybetrue,”Isaid,“andallofitmaybeverywellput.
ButIdon’tseewhyCountFoscoshouldcelebratethevictoryofthecriminaloverSocietywithsomuchexultation,orwhyyou,SirPercival,shouldapplaudhimsoloudlyfordoingit.”
“Doyouhearthat,Fosco?”askedSirPercival.“Takemyadvice,andmakeyourpeacewithyouraudience.Tellthemvirtue’safinething—theylikethat,Icanpromiseyou.”
TheCountlaughedinwardlyandsilently,andtwoofthewhitemiceinhiswaistcoat,alarmedbytheinternalconvulsiongoingonbeneaththem,dartedoutinaviolenthurry,andscrambledintotheircageagain.
“Theladies,mygoodPercival,shalltellmeaboutvirtue,”hesaid.“TheyarebetterauthoritiesthanIam,fortheyknowwhatvirtueis,andIdon’t.”
“Youhearhim?”saidSirPercival.“Isn’titawful?”
“Itistrue,”saidtheCountquietly.“Iamacitizenoftheworld,andIhavemet,inmytime,withsomanydifferentsortsofvirtue,thatIampuzzled,inmyoldage,tosaywhichistherightsortandwhichisthewrong.Here,inEngland,thereisonevirtue.
Andthere,inChina,thereisanothervirtue.
AndJohnEnglishmansaysmyvirtueisthegenuinevirtue.
AndJohnChinamansaysmyvirtueisthegenuinevirtue.
AndIsayYestoone,orNototheother,andamjustasmuchbewilderedaboutitinthecaseofJohnwiththetop-bootsasIaminthecaseofJohnwiththepigtail.Ah,nicelittleMousey!come,kissme.
Whatisyourownprivatenotionofavirtuousman,mypret-pret-pretty?
Amanwhokeepsyouwarm,andgivesyouplentytoeat.
Andagoodnotion,too,foritisintelligible,attheleast.”
“Stayaminute,Count,”Iinterposed.“Acceptingyourillustration,surelywehaveoneunquestionablevirtueinEnglandwhichiswantinginChina.
TheChineseauthoritieskillthousandsofinnocentpeopleonthemostfrivolouspretexts.
WeinEnglandarefreefromallguiltofthatkind—wecommitnosuchdreadfulcrime—weabhorrecklessbloodshedwithallourhearts.”
“Quiteright,Marian,”saidLaura.“Wellthoughtof,andwellexpressed”
“PrayallowtheCounttoproceed,”saidMadameFosco,withsterncivility.“Youwillfind,youngladies,thatHEneverspeakswithouthavingexcellentreasonsforallthathesays.”
“Thankyou,myangel,”repliedtheCount.“Haveabon-bon?”
Hetookoutofhispocketaprettylittleinlaidbox,andplaceditopenonthetable.
“ChocolatalaVanille,”criedtheimpenetrableman,cheerfullyrattlingthesweetmeatsinthebox,andbowingallround.
“OfferedbyFoscoasanactofhomagetothecharmingsociety.”
“Begoodenoughtogoon,Count,”saidhiswife,withaspitefulreferencetomyself.“ObligemebyansweringMissHalcombe.”
“MissHalcombeisunanswerable,”repliedthepoliteItalian;“thatistosay,sofarasshegoes.Yes!Iagreewithher.
JohnBulldoesabhorthecrimesofJohnChinaman.
Heisthequickestoldgentlemanatfindingoutfaultsthatarehisneighbours’,andtheslowestoldgentlemanatfindingoutthefaultsthatarehisown,whoexistsonthefaceofcreation.
Ishesoverymuchbetterinthiswaythanthepeoplewhomhecondemnsintheirway?
EnglishSociety,MissHalcombe,isasoftentheaccompliceasitistheenemyofcrime.Yes!yes!
Crimeisinthiscountrywhatcrimeisinothercountries—agoodfriendtoamanandtothoseabouthimasoftenasitisanenemy.
Agreatrascalprovidesforhiswifeandfamily.
Theworseheisthemorehemakesthemtheobjectsforyoursympathy.Heoftenprovidesalsoforhimself.
Aprofligatespendthriftwhoisalwaysborrowingmoneywillgetmorefromhisfriendsthantherigidlyhonestmanwhoonlyborrowsofthemonce,underpressureofthedirestwant.
Intheonecasethefriendswillnotbeatallsurprised,andtheywillgive.
Intheothercasetheywillbeverymuchsurprised,andtheywillhesitate.
IstheprisonthatMr.ScoundrellivesinattheendofhiscareeramoreuncomfortableplacethantheworkhousethatMr.Honestylivesinattheendofhiscareer?
WhenJohn-Howard-Philanthropistwantstorelievemiseryhegoestofinditinprisons,wherecrimeiswretched—notinhutsandhovels,wherevirtueiswretchedtoo.
WhoistheEnglishpoetwhohaswonthemostuniversalsympathy—whomakestheeasiestofallsubjectsforpatheticwritingandpatheticpainting?
Thatniceyoungpersonwhobeganlifewithaforgery,andendeditbyasuicide—yourdear,romantic,interestingChatterton.
Whichgetsonbest,doyouthink,oftwopoorstarvingdressmakers—thewomanwhoresiststemptationandishonest,orthewomanwhofallsundertemptationandsteals?
Youallknowthatthestealingisthemakingofthatsecondwoman’sfortune—itadvertisesherfromlengthtobreadthofgood-humoured,charitableEngland—andsheisrelieved,asthebreakerofacommandment,whenshewouldhavebeenlefttostarve,asthekeeperofit.Comehere,myjollylittleMouse!Hey!presto!pass!
Itransformyou,forthetimebeing,intoarespectablelady.
Stopthere,inthepalmofmygreatbighand,mydear,andlisten.
Youmarrythepoormanwhomyoulove,Mouse,andonehalfyourfriendspity,andtheotherhalfblameyou.
Andnow,onthecontrary,yousellyourselfforgoldtoamanyoudon’tcarefor,andallyourfriendsrejoiceoveryou,andaministerofpublicworshipsanctionsthebasehorrorofthevilestofallhumanbargains,andsmilesandsmirksafterwardsatyourtable,ifyouarepoliteenoughtoaskhimtobreakfast.Hey!presto!pass!Beamouseagain,andsqueak.
Ifyoucontinuetobealadymuchlonger,IshallhaveyoutellingmethatSocietyabhorscrime—andthen,Mouse,Ishalldoubtifyourowneyesandearsarereallyofanyusetoyou.Ah!Iamabadman,LadyGlyde,amInot?
Isaywhatotherpeopleonlythink,andwhenalltherestoftheworldisinaconspiracytoacceptthemaskforthetrueface,mineistherashhandthattearsofftheplumppasteboard,andshowsthebarebonesbeneath.
Iwillgetuponmybigelephant’slegs,beforeIdomyselfanymoreharminyouramiableestimations—Iwillgetupandtakealittleairywalkofmyown.
Dearladies,asyourexcellentSheridansaid,Igo—andleavemycharacterbehindme.”
Hegotup,putthecageonthetable,andpausedforamomenttocountthemiceinit.“One,two,three,four——Ha!”
hecried,withalookofhorror,“where,inthenameofHeaven,isthefifth—theyoungest,thewhitest,themostamiableofall—myBenjaminofmice!”
NeitherLauranorIwereinanyfavorabledispositiontobeamused.
TheCount’sglibcynicismhadrevealedanewaspectofhisnaturefromwhichwebothrecoiled.
Butitwasimpossibletoresistthecomicaldistressofsoverylargeamanatthelossofsoverysmallamouse.
Welaughedinspiteofourselves;andwhenMadameFoscorosetosettheexampleofleavingtheboat-houseempty,sothatherhusbandmightsearchittoitsremotestcorners,werosealsotofollowherout.
Beforewehadtakenthreesteps,theCount’squickeyediscoveredthelostmouseundertheseatthatwehadbeenoccupying.
Hepulledasidethebench,tookthelittleanimalupinhishand,andthensuddenlystopped,onhisknees,lookingintentlyataparticularplaceonthegroundjustbeneathhim.
Whenherosetohisfeetagain,hishandshooksothathecouldhardlyputthemousebackinthecage,andhisfacewasofafaintlividyellowhueallover.
“Percival!”hesaid,inawhisper.“Percival!comehere.”
SirPercivalhadpaidnoattentiontoanyofusforthelasttenminutes.Hehadbeenentirelyabsorbedinwritingfiguresonthesand,andthenrubbingthemoutagainwiththepointofhisstick.
“What’sthematternow?”heasked,loungingcarelesslyintotheboat-house.
“Doyouseenothingthere?”saidtheCount,catchinghimnervouslybythecollarwithonehand,andpointingwiththeothertotheplacenearwhichhehadfoundthemouse.
“Iseeplentyofdrysand,”answeredSirPercival,“andaspotofdirtinthemiddleofit.”
“Notdirt,”whisperedtheCount,fasteningtheotherhandsuddenlyonSirPercival’scollar,andshakingitinhisagitation.“Blood.”
Laurawasnearenoughtohearthelastword,softlyashewhisperedit.Sheturnedtomewithalookofterror.
“Nonsense,mydear,”Isaid.“Thereisnoneedtobealarmed.Itisonlythebloodofapoorlittlestraydog.”
Everybodywasastonished,andeverybody’seyeswerefixedonmeinquiringly.
“Howdoyouknowthat?”askedSirPercival,speakingfirst.
“Ifoundthedoghere,dying,onthedaywhenyouallreturnedfromabroad,”Ireplied.“Thepoorcreaturehadstrayedintotheplantation,andhadbeenshotbyyourkeeper.”
“Whosedogwasit?”inquiredSirPercival.“Notoneofmine?”
“Didyoutrytosavethepoorthing?”askedLauraearnestly.“Surelyyoutriedtosaveit,Marian?”
“Yes,”Isaid,“thehousekeeperandIbothdidourbest—butthedogwasmortallywounded,andhediedunderourhands.”
“Whosedogwasit?”persistedSirPercival,repeatinghisquestionalittleirritably.“Oneofmine?”
“No,notoneofyours.”
“Whosethen?Didthehousekeeperknow?”
Thehousekeeper’sreportofMrs.Catherick’sdesiretoconcealhervisittoBlackwaterParkfromSirPercival’sknowledgerecurredtomymemorythemomentheputthatlastquestion,andIhalfdoubtedthediscretionofansweringit;butinmyanxietytoquietthegeneralalarm,Ihadthoughtlesslyadvancedtoofartodrawback,exceptattheriskofexcitingsuspicion,whichmightonlymakemattersworse.
Therewasnothingforitbuttoansweratonce,withoutreferencetoresults.
“Yes,”Isaid.“Thehousekeeperknew.ShetoldmeitwasMrs.Catherick’sdog.”
SirPercivalhadhithertoremainedattheinnerendoftheboat-housewithCountFosco,whileIspoketohimfromthedoor.
ButtheinstantMrs.Catherick’snamepassedmylipshepushedbytheCountroughly,andplacedhimselffacetofacewithmeundertheopendaylight.
“HowcamethehousekeepertoknowitwasMrs.Catherick’sdog?”heasked,fixinghiseyesonminewithafrowninginterestandattention,whichhalfangered,halfstartledme.
“Sheknewit,”Isaidquietly,“becauseMrs.Catherickbroughtthedogwithher.”
“Broughtitwithher?Wheredidshebringitwithher?”
“Tothishouse.”
“WhatthedevildidMrs.Catherickwantatthishouse?”
Themannerinwhichheputthequestionwasevenmoreoffensivethanthelanguageinwhichheexpressedit.Imarkedmysenseofhiswantofcommonpolitenessbysilentlyturningawayfromhim.
JustasImovedtheCount’spersuasivehandwaslaidonhisshoulder,andtheCount’smellifluousvoiceinterposedtoquiethim.
“MydearPercival!—gently—gently!”
SirPercivallookedroundinhisangriestmanner.TheCountonlysmiledandrepeatedthesoothingapplication.
“Gently,mygoodfriend—gently!”
SirPercivalhesitated,followedmeafewsteps,and,tomygreatsurprise,offeredmeanapology.
“Ibegyourpardon,MissHalcombe,”hesaid.
“Ihavebeenoutoforderlately,andIamafraidIamalittleirritable.
ButIshouldliketoknowwhatMrs.Catherickcouldpossiblywanthere.Whendidshecome?
Wasthehousekeepertheonlypersonwhosawher?”
“Theonlyperson,”Ianswered,“sofarasIknow.”
TheCountinterposedagain.
“Inthatcasewhynotquestionthehousekeeper?”hesaid.“Whynotgo,Percival,tothefountain-headofinformationatonce?”
“Quiteright!”saidSirPercival.
“Ofcoursethehousekeeperisthefirstpersontoquestion.
Excessivelystupidofmenottoseeitmyself.”
Withthosewordsheinstantlyleftustoreturntothehouse.
ThemotiveoftheCount’sinterference,whichhadpuzzledmeatfirst,betrayeditselfwhenSirPercival’sbackwasturned.
HehadahostofquestionstoputtomeaboutMrs.Catherick,andthecauseofhervisittoBlackwaterPark,whichhecouldscarcelyhaveaskedinhisfriend’spresence.
ImademyanswersasshortasIcivillycould,forIhadalreadydeterminedtochecktheleastapproachtoanyexchangingofconfidencesbetweenCountFoscoandmyself.
Laura,however,unconsciouslyhelpedhimtoextractallmyinformation,bymakinginquiriesherself,whichleftmenoalternativebuttoreplytoher,ortoappearintheveryunenviableandveryfalsecharacterofadepositaryofSirPercival’ssecrets.
Theendofitwas,that,inabouttenminutes’time,theCountknewasmuchasIknowofMrs.Catherick,andoftheeventswhichhavesostrangelyconnecteduswithherdaughter,Anne,fromthetimewhenCartrightmetwithhertothisday.
Theeffectofmyinformationonhimwas,inonerespect,curiousenough.
IntimatelyasheknowsSirPercival,andcloselyasheappearstobeassociatedwithSirPercival’sprivateaffairsingeneral,heiscertainlyasfarasIamfromknowinganythingofthetruestoryofAnneCatherick.
Theunsolvedmysteryinconnectionwiththisunhappywomanisnowrendereddoublysuspicious,inmyeyes,bytheabsoluteconvictionwhichIfeel,thatthecluetoithasbeenhiddenbySirPercivalfromthemostintimatefriendhehasintheworld.
ItwasimpossibletomistaketheeagercuriosityoftheCount’slookandmannerwhilehedrankingreedilyeverywordthatfellfrommylips.
Therearemanykindsofcuriosity,Iknow—butthereisnomisinterpretingthecuriosityofblanksurprise:ifIeversawitinmylifeIsawitintheCount’sface.
Whilethequestionsandanswersweregoingon,wehadallbeenstrollingquietlybackthroughtheplantation.
AssoonaswereachedthehousethefirstobjectthatwesawinfrontofitwasSirPercival’sdog-cart,withthehorseputtoandthegroomwaitingbyitinhisstable-jacket.
Iftheseunexpectedappearancesweretobetrusted,theexaminationofthehouse-keeperhadproducedimportantresultsalready.
“Afinehorse,myfriend,”saidtheCount,addressingthegroomwiththemostengagingfamiliarityofmanner,“Youaregoingtodriveout?”
“Iamnotgoing,sir,”repliedtheman,lookingathisstable-jacket,andevidentlywonderingwhethertheforeigngentlemantookitforhislivery.“Mymasterdriveshimself.”
“Aha!”saidtheCount,“doesheindeed?
Iwonderhegiveshimselfthetroublewhenhehasgotyoutodriveforhim.
Ishegoingtofatiguethatnice,shining,prettyhorsebytakinghimveryfarto-day?”
“Idon’tknow,sir,”answeredtheman.“Thehorseisamare,ifyouplease,sir.
She’sthehighest-couragedthingwe’vegotinthestables.
Hername’sBrownMolly,sir,andshe’llgotillshedrops.
SirPercivalusuallytakesIsaacofYorkfortheshortdistances.”
“AndyourshiningcourageousBrownMollyforthelong?”
“Logicalinference,MissHalcombe,”continuedtheCount,wheelingroundbriskly,andaddressingme.“SirPercivalisgoingalongdistanceto-day.”
Imadenoreply.Ihadmyowninferencestodraw,fromwhatIknewthroughthehousekeeperandfromwhatIsawbeforeme,andIdidnotchoosetosharethemwithCountFosco.
WhenSirPercivalwasinCumberland(Ithoughttomyself),hewalkedawayalongdistance,onAnne’saccount,toquestionthefamilyatTodd’sCorner.
NowheisinHampshire,ishegoingtodriveawayalongdistance,onAnne’saccountagain,toquestionMrs.CatherickatWelmingham?
Weallenteredthehouse.AswecrossedthehallSirPercivalcameoutfromthelibrarytomeetus.
Helookedhurriedandpaleandanxious—butforallthat,hewasinhismostpolitemoodwhenhespoketous.
“IamsorrytosayIamobligedtoleaveyou,”hebegan—“alongdrive—amatterthatIcan’tverywellputoff.
Ishallbebackingoodtimeto-morrow—butbeforeIgoIshouldlikethatlittlebusiness-formality,whichIspokeofthismorning,tobesettled.Laura,willyoucomeintothelibrary?
Itwon’ttakeaminute—amereformality.Countess,mayItroubleyoualso?
IwantyouandtheCountess,Fosco,tobewitnessestoasignature—nothingmore.Comeinatonceandgetitover.”
Heheldthelibrarydooropenuntiltheyhadpassedin,followedthem,andshutitsoftly.
Iremained,foramomentafterwards,standingaloneinthehall,withmyheartbeatingfastandmymindmisgivingmesadly.ThenIwentontothestaircase,andascendedslowlytomyownroom.
Share this article to
FINISH