CHAPTER XXXVIII.
THE HOUSE FULL OF GHOSTS.
Charles had really no idea where he was going. Although he knew thatHornby had been playing with Lord Welter, yet he thought, from whatHornby had said, that he would not bring him into collision with him;and indeed he did not--only taking Charles with him as a reserve in caseof accidents, for he thoroughly distrusted his lordship.
At half-past six in the evening Hornby rode slowly away, followed byCharles. He had told Charles that he should dine in St. John's Wood atseven, and should ride there, and Charles was to wait with the horses.But it was nearly seven, and yet Hornby loitered, and seemedundetermined. It was a wild, gusty evening, threatening rain. There werevery few people abroad, and those who were rode or walked rapidly. Andyet Hornby dawdled irresolutely, as though his determination were hardlystrong enough yet.
At first he rode quite away from his destination, but by degrees hishorse's head got changed into the right direction; then he made anotherdetour, but a shorter one; at last he put spurs to his horse, and roderesolutely up the short carriage-drive before the door, and giving thereins to Charles, walked firmly in.
Charles put up the horses and went into the servants' hall, or the roomwhich answered that end in the rather small house of Lord Welter. Noone was there. All the servants were busy with the dinner and Charleswas left unnoticed.
By-and-by a page, noticing a strange servant in passing the door,brought him some beer, and a volume of the Newgate Calendar. This younggentleman called his attention to the print of a lady cutting up thebody of her husband with a chopper, assisted by a young Jew, who wasdepicted "walking off with a leg," like one of the Fans (the use ofwhich seems to be, to cool the warm imagination of other travellers intoproper limits), while the woman was preparing for another effort. Afterhaving recommended Charles to read the letterpress thereof, as he wouldfind it tolerably spicy, he departed, and left him alone.
The dinner was got over in time; and after a time there was silence inthe house--a silence so great that Charles rose and left the room. Hesoon found his way to another; but all was dark and silent, though itwas not more than half-past nine.
He stood in the dark passage, wondering where to go, and determined toturn back to the room from which he had come. There was a light there,at all events.
There was a light, and the Newgate Calendar. The wild wind, that hadeddied and whirled the dust at the street corners, and swept across thepark all day, had gone down, and the rain had come on. He could hear itdrip, drip, outside; it was very melancholy. Confound the NewgateCalendar!
He was in a very queer house, he knew. What did Hornby mean by askinghim the night before whether or no he could fight, and whether he wouldstick to him? Drip, drip; otherwise a dead silence. Charles's heartbegan to beat a little faster.
Where were all the servants? He had heard plenty of them half an hourago. He had heard a French cook swearing at English kitchen-girls, andhad heard plenty of other voices; and now--the silence of the grave. Orof Christie and Manson's on Saturday evening; or of the Southern IndianOcean in a calm at midnight; or of anything else you like; similes arecheap.
He remembered now that Hornby had said, "Come and lie in the hall as ifasleep; no one will notice you." He determined to do so. But where wasit? His candle was flickering in its socket, and as he tried to move it,it went out.
He could scarcely keep from muttering on oath, but he did. His situationwas very uncomfortable. He did not know in what house he was--only thathe was in a quarter of the town in which there were not a few uncommonlyqueer houses. He determined to grope his way to the light.
He felt his way out of the room and along a passage. The darkness wasintense, and the silence perfect. Suddenly a dull red light gleamed inhis eyes, and made him start. It was the light of the kitchen fire. Acricket would have been company, but there was none.
He continued to advance cautiously. Soon a ghostly square of very dimgrey light on his left showed him where was a long narrow window. It wasbarred with iron bars. He was just thinking of this, and how very queerit was, when he uttered a loud oath, and came crashing down. He hadfallen upstairs.
He had made noise enough to waken the seven sleepers; but thosegentlemen did not seem to be in the neighbourhood, or, at all events, ifawakened gave no sign of it. Dead silence. He sat on the bottom stairand rubbed his shins, and in spite of a strong suspicion that he had gotinto a scrape, laughed to himself at the absurdity of his position.
"Would it be worth while, I wonder," he said to himself, "to go back tothe kitchen and get the poker? I'd better not, I suppose. It would be sodeuced awkward to be caught in the dark with a poker in your hand. Beingon the premises for the purpose of committing a felony--that is whatthey would say; and then they would be sure to say that you were thecompanion of thieves, and had been convicted before. No. Under thisstaircase, in the nature of things, is the housemaid's cupboard. Whatshould I find there as a weapon of defence? A dust-pan. A great dealmight be done with a dust-pan, mind you, at close quarters. How would itdo to arrange all her paraphernalia on the stairs, and cry fire, so thatmine enemies, rushing forth, might stumble and fall, and be takenunawares? But that would be acting on the offensive, and I have no safegrounds for pitching into any one yet."
Though Charles tried to comfort himself by talking nonsense, he was veryuncomfortable. Staying where he was, was intolerable; and he hardlydared to ascend into the upper regions unbidden. Besides, he had fullypersuaded himself that a disturbance was imminent, and, though a braveman, did not like to precipitate it. He had mistaken the character ofthe house he was in. At last, taking heart, he turned and felt his wayupstairs. He came before a door through the keyhole of which the lightstreamed strongly; he was deliberating whether to open it or not, when ashadow crossed it, though he heard no noise, but a minute after thedistant sound of a closing door. He could stand it no longer. He openedthe door, and advanced into a blaze of light.
He entered a beautiful flagged hall, frescoed and gilded. There werevases of flowers round the walls, and strips of Indian matting on thepavement. It was lit by a single chandelier, which was reflected in fourgreat pier-glasses reaching to the ground, in which Charles's top-bootsand brown face were re-duplicated most startlingly. The _tout ensemble_was very beautiful; but what struck Charles was the bad taste of havingan entrance-hall decorated like a drawing-room. "That is just the sortof thing they do in these places," he thought.
There were only two hats on the entrance table; one of which he wasrejoiced to recognise as that of his most respected master. "May thedeuce take his silly noddle for bringing me to such a place!" thoughtCharles.
This was evidently the front hall spoken of by Hornby; and he rememberedhis advice to pretend to go to sleep. So he lay down on threehall-chairs, and put his hat over his eyes.
Hall-chairs are hard; and, although Charles had just been laughing atthe proprietor of the house for being so lavish in his decorations, henow wished that he had carried out his system a little further, and hadcushions to his chairs. But no; the chairs were _de rigueur_, withcrests on the back of them. Charles did not notice whose.
If a man pretends to go to sleep, and, like the Marchioness with herorange-peel and water, "makes believe very much," he may sometimessucceed in going to sleep in good earnest. Charles imitated the thing sowell, that in five minutes he was as fast off as a top.
Till a night or two before this, Charles had never dreamt of Ravenshoesince he had left it. When the first sharp sting of his trouble was inhis soul, his mind had refused to go back further than to the events ofa day or so before. He had dreamt long silly dreams of his master, orhis fellow-servants, or his horses, but always, all through the night,with a dread on him of waking in the dark. But, as his mind began tosettle and his pain got dulled, he began to dream about Ravenshoe, andOxford, and Shrewsbury again; and he no longer dreaded the waking as hedid, for the reality of his life was no longer hideous to him. With thefatal "plasticity" of his nature, he had
lowered himself, body and soul,to the level of it.
But to-night, as he slept on these chairs, he dreamt of Ravenshoe, andof Cuthbert, and of Ellen. And he woke, and she was standing within tenfeet of him, under the chandelier.
He was awake in an instant, but he lay as still as a mouse, staring ather. She had not noticed him, but was standing in profound thought.Found, and so soon! His sister! How lovely she was, standing, dressed inlight pearl grey, like some beautiful ghost, with her speaking eyesfixed on nothing. She moved now, but so lightly that her footfall wasbarely heard upon the matting. Then she turned and noticed him. She didnot seem surprised at seeing a groom stretched out asleep on thechairs--she was used to that sort of thing, probably--but she turnedaway, gliding through a door at the further end of the hall, and wasgone.
Charles's heart was leaping and beating madly, but he heard another dooropen, and lay still.
Adelaide came out of a door opposite to the one into which Ellen hadpassed. Charles was not surprised. He was beyond surprise. But, when hesaw her and Ellen in the same house, in one instant, with the quicknessof lightning, he understood it all. It was Welter had tempted Ellen fromRavenshoe! Fool! fool! he might have prevented it once if he had onlyguessed.
If he had any doubt as to where he was now, it was soon dispelled. LordWelter came rapidly out of the door after Adelaide, and called her in awhisper, "Adelaide."
"Well," she said, turning round sharply.
"Come back, do you hear?" said Lord Welter. "Where the deuce are yougoing?"
"To my own room."
"Come back, I tell you," said Lord Welter, savagely, in a low voice."You are going to spoil everything with your confounded airs."
"I shall not come back. I am not going to act as a decoy-duck to thatman, or any other man. Let me go, Welter."
Lord Welter was very near having to let her go with a vengeance. Charleswas ready for a spring, but watched, and waited his time. Lord Welterhad only caught her firmly by the wrist to detain her. He was nothurting her.
"Look you here, my Lady Welter," he said slowly and distinctly. "Listento what I've got to say, and don't try the shadow of a tantrum with me,for I won't have it for one moment. I don't mind your chaff and nonsensein public; it blinds people, it is racy and attracts people; but inprivate I am master, do you hear? Master. You know you are afraid of me,and have good cause to be, by Jove. You are shaking now. Go back to thatroom."
"I won't, I won't, I won't. Not without you, Welter. How can you use meso cruelly, Welter? Oh, Welter, how can you be such a villain?"
"You conceited fool," said Lord Welter, contemptuously. "Do you think hewants to make love to you?"
"You know he does, Welter; you know it," said Adelaide, passionately.
Lord Welter laughed good-naturedly. (He could be good-natured.) He drewher towards him and kissed her. "My poor little girl," he said, "if Ithought that, I would break his neck. But it is utterly wide of thetruth. Look here, Adelaide; you are as safe from insult as my wife asyou were at Ranford. What you are not safe from is my own temper. Let usbe friends in private and not squabble so much, eh? You are a good,shrewd, clever wife to me. Do keep your tongue quiet. Come in and markwhat follows."
They had not noticed Charles, though he had been so sure that theywould, that he had got his face down on the chair, covered with hisarms, feigning sleep. When they went into the room again, Charles caughthold of a coat which was on the back of a chair, and, curling himselfup, put it over him. He would listen, listen, listen for every word. Hehad a right to listen now.
In a minute a bell rang twice. Almost at the same moment some one cameout of the door through which Lord Welter had passed, and stood silent.In about two minutes another door opened, and some one else came intothe hall.
A woman's voice--Ellen's--said, "Oh, are you come again?"
A man's voice--Lieutenant Hornby's--said in answer, "You see I am. I gotLady Welter to ring her bell twice for you, and then to stay in thatroom, so that I might have an interview with you."
"I am obliged to her ladyship. She must have been surprised that I wasthe object of attraction. She fancied herself so."
"She was surprised. And she was more so, when I told her what my realobject was."
"Indeed," said Ellen, bitterly. "But her ladyship's surprise does notappear to have prevented her from assisting you."
"On the contrary," said Hornby, "she wished me God speed--her ownwords."
"Sir, you are a gentleman. Don't disgrace yourself and me--if I can bedisgraced--by quoting that woman's blasphemy before me. Sir, you havehad your answer. I shall go."
"Ellen, you must stay. I have got this interview with you to-night, toask you to be my wife. I love you as I believe woman was never lovedbefore, and I ask you to be my wife."
"You madman! you madman!"
"I am no madman. I was a madman when I spoke to you before; I pray yourforgiveness for that. You must forget that. I say that I love you as awoman was never loved before. Shall I say something more, Ellen?"
"Say on."
"You love me."
"I love you as man was never loved before; and I swear to you that Ihope I may lie stiff and cold in my unhonoured coffin, before I'll ruinthe man I love by tying him to such a wretch as myself."
"Ellen, Ellen, don't say that. Don't take such vows, which you will notdare to break afterwards. Think, you may regain all that you have lost,and marry a man who loves you--ah, so dearly!--and whom you love too."
"Ay; there's the rub. If I did not love you, I would marry youto-morrow. Regain all I have lost, say you? Bring my mother to lifeagain, for instance, or walk among other women again as an honest one?You talk nonsense, Mr. Hornby--nonsense. I am going."
"Ellen! Ellen! Why do you stay in this house? Think once again."
"I shall never leave thinking; but my determination is the same. I tellyou, as a desperate woman like me dare tell you, that I love you far toowell to ruin your prospects, and I love my own soul too well ever tomake another false step. I stayed in this house because I loved to seeyou now and then, and hear your voice; but now I shall leave it."
"See me once more, Ellen--only once more!"
"I will see you once more. I will tear my heart once more, if you wishit. You have deserved all I can do for you, God knows. Come here the dayafter to-morrow; but come without hope, mind. A woman who has beenthrough what I have can trust herself. Do you know that I am aCatholic?"
"No."
"I am. Would you turn Catholic if I were to marry you?"
God forgive poor Hornby! He said, "Yes." What will not men say at suchtimes?
"Did I not say you were a madman? Do you think I would ruin you in thenext world, as well as in this? Go away, sir; and, when your childrenare round you, humbly bless God's mercy for saving you, body and soul,this night."
"I shall see you again?"
"Come here the day after to-morrow; but come without hope."
She passed through the door, and left him standing alone. Charles rosefrom his lair, and, coming up to him, laid his hand on his shoulder.
"You have heard all this," said poor Hornby.
"Every word," said Charles. "I had a right to listen, you know. She ismy sister."
"Your sister?"
Then Charles told him all. Hornby had heard enough from Lord Welter tounderstand it.
"Your sister! Can you help me, Horton? Surely she will hear reason fromyou. Will you persuade her to listen to me?"
"No," said Charles. "She was right. You are mad. I will not help you doan act which you would bitterly repent all your life. You must forgether. She and I are disgraced, and must get away somewhere, and hide ourshame together."
What Hornby would have answered, no man can tell; for at this momentAdelaide came out of the room, and passed quickly across the hall,saying good night to him as she passed. She did not recognise Charles,or seem surprised at seeing Hornby talking to his groom. Nobody who hadlived in Lord Welter's house a day or two was surprised at anyt
hing.
But Charles, speaking to Hornby more as if he were master than servant,said, "Wait here;" and, stepping quickly from him, went into the roomwhere Lord Welter sat alone, and shut the door. Hornby heard it lockedbehind him, and waited in the hall, listening intensely, for what was tofollow.
"There'll be a row directly," said Hornby to himself; "and thatchivalrous fool, Charles, has locked himself in. I wish Welter did notsend all his servants out of the house at night. There'll be murder donehere some day."
He listened and heard voices, low as yet--so low that he could hear thedripping of the rain outside. Drip--drip! The suspense was intolerable.When would they be at one another's throats?