I Say No

  CHAPTER XXIII. MISS REDWOOD.

  "I got invited to Sir Jervis's house," Alban resumed, "by treating theold savage as unceremoniously as he had treated me. 'That's an idletrade of yours,' he said, looking at my sketch. 'Other ignorant peoplehave made the same remark,' I answered. He rode away, as if he was notused to be spoken to in that manner, and then thought better of it, andcame back. 'Do you understand wood engraving?' he asked. 'Yes.''And etching?' 'I have practiced etching myself.' 'Are you a RoyalAcademician?' 'I'm a drawing-master at a ladies' school.' 'Whoseschool?' 'Miss Ladd's.' 'Damn it, you know the girl who ought to havebeen my secretary.' I am not quite sure whether you will take it as acompliment--Sir Jervis appeared to view you in the light of a referenceto my respectability. At any rate, he went on with his questions. 'Howlong do you stop in these parts?' 'I haven't made up my mind.' 'Lookhere; I want to consult you--are you listening?' 'No; I'm sketching.' Heburst into a horrid scream. I asked if he felt himself taken ill. 'Ill?'he said--'I'm laughing.' It was a diabolical laugh, in one syllable--not'ha! ha! ha!' only 'ha!'--and it made him look wonderfully like thateminent person, whom I persist in thinking he resembles. 'You're animpudent dog,' he said; 'where are you living?' He was so delighted whenhe heard of my uncomfortable position in the kennel-bedroom, thathe offered his hospitality on the spot. 'I can't go to you in such apigstye as that,' he said; 'you must come to me. What's your name?''Alban Morris; what's yours?' 'Jervis Redwood. Pack up your traps whenyou've done your job, and come and try my kennel. There it is, in acorner of your drawing, and devilish like, too.' I packed up my traps,and I tried his kennel. And now you have had enough of Sir JervisRedwood."

  "Not half enough!" Emily answered. "Your story leaves off just at theinteresting moment. I want you to take me to Sir Jervis's house."

  "And I want you, Miss Emily, to take me to the British Museum. Don't letme startle you! When I called here earlier in the day, I was told thatyou had gone to the reading-room. Is your reading a secret?"

  His manner, when he made that reply, suggested to Emily that there wassome foregone conclusion in his mind, which he was putting to the test.She answered without alluding to the impression which he had produced onher.

  "My reading is no secret. I am only consulting old newspapers."

  He repeated the last words to himself. "Old newspapers?" he said--as ifhe was not quite sure of having rightly understood her.

  She tried to help him by a more definite reply.

  "I am looking through old newspapers," she resumed, "beginning with theyear eighteen hundred and seventy-six."

  "And going back from that time," he asked eagerly; "to earlier datesstill?"

  "No--just the contrary--advancing from 'seventy-six' to the presenttime."

  He suddenly turned pale--and tried to hide his face from her by lookingout of the window. For a moment, his agitation deprived him of hispresence of mind. In that moment, she saw that she had alarmed him.

  "What have I said to frighten you?" she asked.

  He tried to assume a tone of commonplace gallantry. "There are limitseven to your power over me," he replied. "Whatever else you may do, youcan never frighten me. Are you searching those old newspapers with anyparticular object in view?"

  "Yes."

  "May I know what it is?"

  "May I know why I frightened you?"

  He began to walk up and down the room again--then checked himselfabruptly, and appealed to her mercy.

  "Don't be hard on me," he pleaded. "I am so fond of you--oh, forgive me!I only mean that it distresses me to have any concealments from you. IfI could open my whole heart at this moment, I should be a happier man."

  She understood him and believed him. "My curiosity shall never embarrassyou again," she answered warmly. "I won't even remember that I wanted tohear how you got on in Sir Jervis's house."

  His gratitude seized the opportunity of taking her harmlessly into hisconfidence. "As Sir Jervis's guest," he said, "my experience is at yourservice. Only tell me how I can interest you."

  She replied, with some hesitation, "I should like to know what happenedwhen you first saw Mrs. Rook." To her surprise and relief, he at oncecomplied with her wishes.

  "We met," he said, "on the evening when I first entered the house. SirJervis took me into the dining-room--and there sat Miss Redwood, witha large black cat on her lap. Older than her brother, taller than herbrother, leaner than her brother--with strange stony eyes, and a skinlike parchment--she looked (if I may speak in contradictions) likea living corpse. I was presented, and the corpse revived. The lastlingering relics of former good breeding showed themselves faintly inher brow and in her smile. You will hear more of Miss Redwood presently.In the meanwhile, Sir Jervis made me reward his hospitality byprofessional advice. He wished me to decide whether the artists whomhe had employed to illustrate his wonderful book had cheated him byovercharges and bad work--and Mrs. Rook was sent to fetch the engravingsfrom his study upstairs. You remember her petrified appearance, when shefirst read the inscription on your locket? The same result followed whenshe found herself face to face with me. I saluted her civilly--she wasdeaf and blind to my politeness. Her master snatched the illustrationsout of her hand, and told her to leave the room. She stood stockstill,staring helplessly. Sir Jervis looked round at his sister; and Ifollowed his example. Miss Redwood was observing the housekeeper tooattentively to notice anything else; her brother was obliged to speakto her. 'Try Rook with the bell,' he said. Miss Redwood took a fine oldbronze hand-bell from the table at her side, and rang it. At the shrillsilvery sound of the bell, Mrs. Rook put her hand to her head as if theringing had hurt her--turned instantly, and left us. 'Nobody can manageRook but my sister,' Sir Jervis explained; 'Rook is crazy.' Miss Redwooddiffered with him. 'No!' she said. Only one word, but there were volumesof contradiction in it. Sir Jervis looked at me slyly; meaning, perhaps,that he thought his sister crazy too. The dinner was brought in at thesame moment, and my attention was diverted to Mrs. Rook's husband."

  "What was he like?" Emily asked.

  "I really can't tell you; he was one of those essentially commonplacepersons, whom one never looks at a second time. His dress was shabby,his head was bald, and his hands shook when he waited on us attable--and that is all I remember. Sir Jervis and I feasted on saltfish, mutton, and beer. Miss Redwood had cold broth, with a wine-glassfull of rum poured into it by Mr. Rook. 'She's got no stomach,' herbrother informed me; 'hot things come up again ten minutes after theyhave gone down her throat; she lives on that beastly mixture, and callsit broth-grog!' Miss Redwood sipped her elixir of life, and occasionallylooked at me with an appearance of interest which I was at a loss tounderstand. Dinner being over, she rang her antique bell. The shabby oldman-servant answered her call. 'Where's your wife?' she inquired. 'Ill,miss.' She took Mr. Rook's arm to go out, and stopped as she passed me.'Come to my room, if you please, sir, to-morrow at two o'clock,' shesaid. Sir Jervis explained again: 'She's all to pieces in the morning'(he invariably called his sister 'She'); 'and gets patched up toward themiddle of the day. Death has forgotten her, that's about the truth ofit.' He lighted his pipe and pondered over the hieroglyphics found amongthe ruined cities of Yucatan; I lighted my pipe, and read the only bookI could find in the dining-room--a dreadful record of shipwrecks anddisasters at sea. When the room was full of tobacco-smoke we fell asleepin our chairs--and when we awoke again we got up and went to bed. Thereis the true story of my first evening at Redwood Hall."

  Emily begged him to go on. "You have interested me in Miss Redwood," shesaid. "You kept your appointment, of course?"

  "I kept my appointment in no very pleasant humor. Encouraged by myfavorable report of the illustrations which he had submitted tomy judgment, Sir Jervis proposed to make me useful to him in a newcapacity. 'You have nothing particular to do,' he said, 'suppose youclean my pictures?' I gave him one of my black looks, and made no otherreply. My interview with his sister tried my powers of self-command inanother way. Miss Redwood declared her
purpose in sending for me themoment I entered the room. Without any preliminary remarks--speakingslowly and emphatically, in a wonderfully strong voice for a woman ofher age--she said, 'I have a favor to ask of you, sir. I want you totell me what Mrs. Rook has done.' I was so staggered that I stared ather like a fool. She went on: 'I suspected Mrs. Rook, sir, of havingguilty remembrances on her conscience before she had been a week inour service.' Can you imagine my astonishment when I heard that MissRedwood's view of Mrs. Rook was my view? Finding that I still saidnothing, the old lady entered into details: 'We arranged, sir,' (shepersisted in calling me 'sir,' with the formal politeness of the oldschool)--'we arranged, sir, that Mrs. Rook and her husband should occupythe bedroom next to mine, so that I might have her near me in case ofmy being taken ill in the night. She looked at the door between the tworooms--suspicious! She asked if there was any objection to her changingto another room--suspicious! suspicious! Pray take a seat, sir, and tellme which Mrs. Rook is guilty of--theft or murder?'"

  "What a dreadful old woman!" Emily exclaimed. "How did you answer her?"

  "I told her, with perfect truth, that I knew nothing of Mrs. Rook'ssecrets. Miss Redwood's humor took a satirical turn. 'Allow me to ask,sir, whether your eyes were shut, when our housekeeper found herselfunexpectedly in your presence?' I referred the old lady to her brother'sopinion. 'Sir Jervis believes Mrs. Rook to be crazy,' I reminded her.'Do you refuse to trust me, sir?' 'I have no information to give you,madam.' She waved her skinny old hand in the direction of the door.I made my bow, and retired. She called me back. 'Old women used tobe prophets, sir, in the bygone time,' she said. 'I will venture on aprediction. You will be the means of depriving us of the services ofMr. and Mrs. Rook. If you will be so good as to stay here a day or twolonger you will hear that those two people have given us notice toquit. It will be her doing, mind--he is a mere cypher. I wish yougood-morning.' Will you believe me, when I tell you that the prophecywas fulfilled?"

  "Do you mean that they actually left the house?"

  "They would certainly have left the house," Alban answered, "if SirJervis had not insisted on receiving the customary month's warning. Heasserted his resolution by locking up the old husband in the pantry. Hissister's suspicions never entered his head; the housekeeper's conduct(he said) simply proved that she was, what he had always consideredher to be, crazy. 'A capital servant, in spite of that drawback,' heremarked; 'and you will see, I shall bring her to her senses.' Theimpression produced on me was naturally of a very different kind.While I was still uncertain how to entrap Mrs. Rook into confirming mysuspicions, she herself had saved me the trouble. She had placed her ownguilty interpretation on my appearance in the house--I had driven heraway!"

  Emily remained true to her resolution not to let her curiosity embarrassAlban again. But the unexpressed question was in her thoughts--"Of whatguilt does he suspect Mrs. Rook? And, when he first felt his suspicions,was my father in his mind?"

  Alban proceeded.

  "I had only to consider next, whether I could hope to make any furtherdiscoveries, if I continued to be Sir Jervis's guest. The object ofmy journey had been gained; and I had no desire to be employed aspicture-cleaner. Miss Redwood assisted me in arriving at a decision.I was sent for to speak to her again. The success of her prophecy hadraised her spirits. She asked, with ironical humility, if I proposed tohonor them by still remaining their guest, after the disturbance that Ihad provoked. I answered that I proposed to leave by the first train thenext morning. 'Will it be convenient for you to travel to some place ata good distance from this part of the world?' she asked. I had my ownreasons for going to London, and said so. 'Will you mention that to mybrother this evening, just before we sit down to dinner?' she continued.'And will you tell him plainly that you have no intention of returningto the North? I shall make use of Mrs. Rook's arm, as usual, to help medownstairs--and I will take care that she hears what you say. Withoutventuring on another prophecy, I will only hint to you that I have myown idea of what will happen; and I should like you to see for yourself,sir, whether my anticipations are realized.' Need I tell you that thisstrange old woman proved to be right once more? Mr. Rook was released;Mrs. Rook made humble apologies, and laid the whole blame on herhusband's temper: and Sir Jervis bade me remark that his method hadsucceeded in bringing the housekeeper to her senses. Such werethe results produced by the announcement of my departure forLondon--purposely made in Mrs. Rook's hearing. Do you agree with me,that my journey to Northumberland has not been taken in vain?"

  Once more, Emily felt the necessity of controlling herself.

  Alban had said that he had "reasons of his own for going to London."Could she venture to ask him what those reasons were? She could onlypersist in restraining her curiosity, and conclude that he would havementioned his motive, if it had been (as she had at one time supposed)connected with herself. It was a wise decision. No earthly considerationwould have induced Alban to answer her, if she had put the question tohim.

  All doubt of the correctness of his own first impression was now at anend; he was convinced that Mrs. Rook had been an accomplice in thecrime committed, in 1877, at the village inn. His object in travelingto London was to consult the newspaper narrative of the murder. He, too,had been one of the readers at the Museum--had examined the back numbersof the newspaper--and had arrived at the conclusion that Emily's fatherhad been the victim of the crime. Unless he found means to prevent it,her course of reading would take her from the year 1876 to the year1877, and under that date, she would see the fatal report, heading thetop of a column, and printed in conspicuous type.

  In the meanwhile Emily had broken the silence, before it could lead toembarrassing results, by asking if Alban had seen Mrs. Rook again, onthe morning when he left Sir Jervis's house.

  "There was nothing to be gained by seeing her," Alban replied. "Now thatshe and her husband had decided to remain at Redwood Hall, I knew whereto find her in case of necessity. As it happened I saw nobody, on themorning of my departure, but Sir Jervis himself. He still held to hisidea of having his pictures cleaned for nothing. 'If you can't do ityourself,' he said, 'couldn't you teach my secretary?' He described thelady whom he had engaged in your place as a 'nasty middle-aged womanwith a perpetual cold in her head.' At the same time (he remarked) hewas a friend to the women, 'because he got them cheap.' I declined toteach the unfortunate secretary the art of picture-cleaning. Finding medetermined, Sir Jervis was quite ready to say good-by. But he made useof me to the last. He employed me as postman and saved a stamp. Theletter addressed to you arrived at breakfast-time. Sir Jervis said, 'Youare going to London; suppose you take it with you?'"

  "Did he tell you that there was a letter of his own inclosed in theenvelope?"

  "No. When he gave me the envelope it was already sealed."

  Emily at once handed to him Sir Jervis's letter. "That will tell you whoemploys me at the Museum, and what my work is," she said.

  He looked through the letter, and at once offered--eagerly offered--tohelp her.

  "I have been a student in the reading-room at intervals, for yearspast," he said. "Let me assist you, and I shall have something to do inmy holiday time." He was so anxious to be of use that he interrupted herbefore she could thank him. "Let us take alternate years," he suggested."Did you not tell me you were searching the newspapers published ineighteen hundred and seventy-six?"

  "Yes."

  "Very well. I will take the next year. You will take the year after. Andso on."

  "You are very kind," she answered--"but I should like to propose animprovement on your plan."

  "What improvement?" he asked, rather sharply.

  "If you will leave the five years, from 'seventy-six to 'eighty-one,entirely to me," she resumed, "and take the next five years, reckoning_backward_ from 'seventy-six, you will help me to better purpose. SirJervis expects me to look for reports of Central American Explorations,through the newspapers of the last forty years; and I have taken theliberty of limiting the heavy task imp
osed on me. When I report myprogress to my employer, I should like to say that I have got throughten years of the examination, instead of five. Do you see any objectionto the arrangement I propose?"

  He proved to be obstinate--incomprehensibly obstinate.

  "Let us try my plan to begin with," he insisted. "While you are lookingthrough 'seventy-six, let me be at work on 'seventy-seven. If you stillprefer your own arrangement, after that, I will follow your suggestionwith pleasure. Is it agreed?"

  Her acute perception--enlightened by his tone as wall as by hiswords--detected something under the surface already.

  "It isn't agreed until I understand you a little better," she quietlyreplied. "I fancy you have some object of your own in view."

  She spoke with her usual directness of look and manner. He was evidentlydisconcerted. "What makes you think so?" he asked.

  "My own experience of myself makes me think so," she answered. "If _I_had some object to gain, I should persist in carrying it out--like you."

  "Does that mean, Miss Emily, that you refuse to give way?"

  "No, Mr. Morris. I have made myself disagreeable, but I know when tostop. I trust you--and submit."

  If he had been less deeply interested in the accomplishment of hismerciful design, he might have viewed Emily's sudden submission withsome distrust. As it was, his eagerness to prevent her from discoveringthe narrative of the murder hurried him into an act of indiscretion.He made an excuse to leave her immediately, in the fear that she mightchange her mind.

  "I have inexcusably prolonged my visit," he said. "If I presume on yourkindness in this way, how can I hope that you will receive me again? Wemeet to-morrow in the reading-room."

  He hastened away, as if he was afraid to let her say a word in reply.

  Emily reflected.

  "Is there something he doesn't want me to see, in the news of the year'seventy-seven?" The one explanation which suggested itself to her mindassumed that form of expression--and the one method of satisfying hercuriosity that seemed likely to succeed, was to search the volume whichAlban had reserved for his own reading.

  For two days they pursued their task together, seated at opposite desks.On the third day Emily was absent.

  Was she ill?

  She was at the library in the City, consulting the file of _The Times_for the year 1877.