Scenes of Clerical Life

blind clinging hopes of affection; such unseen elements Mr Tryan called the

  Divine Will, and filled up the margin of ignorance which surrounds all our

  knowledge with the feelings of trust and resignation. Perhaps the profoundest

  philosophy could hardly fill it up better.

  His mind was occupied in this way as he was absently taking off his gown, when

  Mr Landor startled him by entering the vestry and asking abruptly,

  "Have you heard the news about Dempster?"

  "No," said Mr Tryan, anxiously; "what is it?"

  "He has been thrown out of his gig in the Bridge Way, and he was taken up for

  dead. They were carrying him home as we were coming to church, and I stayed

  behind to see what I could do. I went in to speak to Mrs Dempster, and prepare

  her a little, but she was not at home. Dempster is not dead, however; he was

  stunned with the fall. Pilgrim came in a few minutes, and he says the right leg

  is broken in two places. It's likely to be a terrible case, with his state of

  body. It seems he was more drunk than usual, and they say he came along the

  Bridge Way flogging his horse like a madman, till at last it gave a sudden

  wheel, and he was pitched out. The servants said they didn't know where Mrs

  Dempster was: she had been away from home since yesterday morning; but Mrs

  Raynor knew."

  "I know where she is," said Mr Tryan; "but I think it will be better for her not

  to be told of this just yet."

  "Ah, that was what Pilgrim said, and so I didn't go round to Mrs Raynor's. He

  said it would be all the better if Mrs Dempster could be kept out of the house

  for the present. Do you know if anything new has happened between Dempster and

  his wife lately? I was surprised to hear of her being at Paddiford church this

  morning."

  "Yes, something has happened; but I believe she is anxious that the particulars

  of his behaviour towards her should not be known. She is at Mrs Pettifer's?there

  is no reason for concealing that, since what has happened to her husband; and

  yesterday, when she was in very deep trouble, she sent for me. I was very

  thankful she did so: I believe a great change of feeling has begun in her. But

  she is at present in that excitable state of mind?she has been shaken by so many

  painful emotions during the last two days, that I think it would be better, for

  this evening at least, to guard her from a new shock, if possible. But I am

  going now to call upon her, and I shall see how she is."

  "Mr Tryan," said Mr Jerome, who had entered during the dialogue, and had been

  standing by listening with a distressed face, "I shall take it as a favour if

  you'll let me know if iver there's anything I can do for Mrs Dempster. Eh, dear,

  what a world this is! I think I see 'em fifteen 'ear ago ?as happy a young

  couple as iver was; and now, what it's all come to! I was in a hurry, like, to

  punish Dempster for pessecutin', but there was a stronger hand at work nor

  mine."

  "Yes, Mr Jerome; but don't let us rejoice in punishment, even when the hand of

  God alone inflicts it. The best of us are but poor wretches just saved from

  shipwreck: can we feel anything but awe and pity when we see a fellow-passenger

  swallowed by the waves?"

  "Right, right, Mr Tryan. I'm over hot an' hasty, that I am. But I beg on you to

  tell Mrs Dempster?I mean, in course, when you've an opportunity?tell her she's a

  friend at the White House as she may send for any hour o' the day."

  "Yes; I shall have an opportunity, I dare say, and I will remember your wish. I

  think," continued Mr Tryan, turning to Mr Landor, "I had better see Mr Pilgrim

  on my way, and learn what is exactly the state of things by this time. What do

  you think?"

  "By all means: if Mrs Dempster is to know, there's no one can break the news to

  her so well as you. I'll walk with you to Dempster's door. I dare say Pilgrim is

  there still. Come, Mr Jerome, you've got to go our way too, to fetch your

  horse."

  Mr Pilgrim was in the passage giving some directions to his assistant, when, to

  his surprise, he saw Mr Tryan enter. They shook hands; for Mr Pilgrim, never

  having joined the party of the Anti-Tryanites, had no ground for resisting the

  growing conviction, that the Evangelical curate was really a good fellow, though

  he was a fool for not taking better care of himself.

  "Why, I didn't expect to see you in your old enemy's quarters," he said to Mr

  Tryan. "However, it will be a good while before poor Dempster shows any fight

  again."

  "I came on Mrs Dempster's account," said Mr Tryan. "She is staying at Mrs

  Pettifer's; she has had a great shock from some severe domestic trouble lately,

  and I think it will be wise to defer telling her of this dreadful event for a

  short time."

  "Why, what has been up, eh?" said Mr Pilgrim, whose curiosity was at once

  awakened. "She used to be no friend of yours. Has there been some split between

  them? It's a new thing for her to turn round on him."

  "O, merely an exaggeration of scenes that must often have happened before. But

  the question now is, whether you think there is any immediate danger of her

  husband's death; for in that case I think, from what I have observed of her

  feelings, she would be pained afterwards to have been kept in ignorance."

  "Well, there's no telling in these cases, you know. I don't apprehend speedy

  death, and it is not absolutely impossible that we may bring him round again. At

  present he's in a state of apoplectic stupor; but if that subsides, delirium is

  almost sure to supervene, and we shall have some painful scenes. It's one of

  those complicated cases in which the delirium is likely to be of the worst

  kind?meningitis and delirium tremens together ?and we may have a good deal of

  trouble with him. If Mrs Dempster were told, I should say it would be desirable

  to persuade her to remain out of the house at present. She could do no good, you

  know. I've got nurses."

  "Thank you," said Mr Tryan. "That is what I wanted to know. Good-by."

  When Mrs Pettifer opened the door for Mr Tryan, he told her in few words what

  had happened, and begged her to take an opportunity of letting Mrs Raynor know,

  that they might, if possible, concur in preventing a premature or sudden

  disclosure of the event to Janet.

  "Poor thing!" said Mrs Pettifer. "She's not fit to hear any bad news; she's very

  low this evening?worn out with feeling; and she's not had anything to keep her

  up, as she's been used to. She seems frightened at the thought of being tempted

  to take it."

  "Thank God for it; that fear is her greatest security."

  When Mr Tryan entered the parlour this time, Janet was again awaiting him

  eagerly, and her pale sad face was lighted up with a smile as she rose to meet

  him. But the next moment she said, with a look of anxiety,

  "How very ill and tired you look! You have been working so hard all day, and yet

  you are come to talk to me. O, you are wearing yourself out. I must go and ask

  Mrs Pettifer to come and make you have some supper. But this is my mother; you

  have not seen her before, I think."

  While Mr Tryan was speaking to Mrs Raynor,
Janet hurried out, and he, seeing

  that this goodnatured thoughtfulness on his behalf would help to counteract her

  depression, was not inclined to oppose her wish, but accepted the supper Mrs

  Pettifer offered him, quietly talking the while about a clothing club he was

  going to establish in Paddiford, and the want of provident habits among the

  poor.

  Presently, however, Mrs Raynor said she must go home for an hour, to see how her

  little maiden was going on, and Mrs Pettifer left the room with her to take the

  opportunity of telling her what had happened to Dempster. When Janet was left

  alone with Mr Tryan, she said,

  "I feel so uncertain what to do about my husband. I am so weak?my feelings

  change so from hour to hour. This morning, when I felt so hopeful and happy, I

  thought I should like to go back to him, and try to make up for what has been

  wrong in me. I thought, now God would help me, and I should have you to teach

  and advise me, and I could bear the troubles that would come. But since then?all

  this afternoon and evening?I have had the same feelings I used to have, the same

  dread of his anger and cruelty, and it seems to me as if I should never be able

  to bear it without falling into the same sins, and doing just what I did before.

  Yet, if it were settled that I should live apart from him, I know it would

  always be a load on my mind that I had shut myself out from going back to him.

  It seems a dreadful thing in life, when any one has been so near to one as a

  husband for fifteen years, to part and be nothing to each other any more. Surely

  that is a very strong tie, and I feel as if my duty can never lie quite away

  from it. It is very difficult to know what to do: what ought I to do?"

  "I think it will be well not to take any decisive step yet. Wait until your mind

  is calmer. You might remain with your mother for a little while; I think you

  have no real ground for fearing any annoyance from your husband at present; he

  has put himself too much in the wrong; he will very likely leave you unmolested

  for some time. Dismiss this difficult question from your mind just now, if you

  can. Every new day may bring you new grounds for decision, and what is most

  needful for your health of mind is repose from that haunting anxiety about the

  future which has been preying on you. Cast yourself on God, and trust that He

  will direct you; He will make your duty clear to you, if you wait submissively

  on Him."

  "Yes; I will wait a little, as you tell me. I will go to my mother's to-morrow,

  and pray to be guided rightly. You will pray for me, too."

  CHAPTER XXIII.

  The next morning Janet was so much calmer, and at breakfast spoke so decidedly

  of going to her mother's, that Mrs Pettifer and Mrs Raynor agreed it would be

  wise to let her know by degrees what had befallen her husband, since as soon as

  she went out there would be danger of her meeting some one who would betray the

  fact. But Mrs Raynor thought it would be well first to call at Dempster's, and

  ascertain how he was: so she said to Janet,

  "My dear, I'll go home first, and see to things, and get your room ready. You

  needn't come yet, you know. I shall be back again in an hour or so, and we can

  go together."

  "O no," said Mrs Pettifer. "Stay with me till evening. I shall be lost without

  you. You needn't go till quite evening."

  Janet had dipped into the Life of Henry Martyn, which Mrs Pettifer had from the

  Paddiford Lending Library, and her interest was so arrested by that pathetic

  missionary story, that she readily acquiesced in both propositions, and Mrs

  Raynor set out.

  She had been gone more than an hour, and it was nearly twelve o'clock, when

  Janet put down her book; and after sitting meditatively for some minutes with

  her eyes unconsciously fixed on the opposite wall, she rose, went to her

  bedroom, and, hastily putting on her bonnet and shawl, came down to Mrs

  Pettifer, who was busy in the kitchen.

  "Mrs Pettifer," she said, "tell mother, when she comes back, I'm gone to see

  what is become of those poor Lakins in Butcher Lane. I know they're half

  starving, and I've neglected them so, lately. And then, I think, I'll go on to

  Mrs Crewe. I want to see the dear little woman, and tell her myself about my

  going to hear Mr Tryan. She won't feel it half so much if I tell her myself."

  "Won't you wait till your mother comes, or put it off till to-morrow?" said Mrs

  Pettifer, alarmed. "You'll hardly be back in time for dinner, if you get talking

  to Mrs Crewe. And you'll have to pass by your husband's, you know; and

  yesterday, you were so afraid of seeing him."

  "O, Robert will be shut up at the office now, if he's not gone out of the town.

  I must go?I feel I must be doing something for some one?not be a mere useless

  log any longer. I've been reading about that wonderful Henry Martyn; he's just

  like Mr Tryan?wearing himself out for other people, and I sit thinking of

  nothing but myself. I must go. Good-by; I shall be back soon."

  She ran off before Mrs Pettifer could utter another word of dissuasion, leaving

  the good woman in considerable anxiety lest this new impulse of Janet's should

  frustrate all precautions to save her from a sudden shock.

  Janet, having paid her visit in Butcher Lane, turned again into Orchard Street

  on her way to Mrs Crewe's, and was thinking, rather sadly, that her mother's

  economical housekeeping would leave no abundant surplus to be sent to the hungry

  Lakins, when she saw Mr Pilgrim in advance of her on the other side of the

  street. He was walking at a rapid pace, and when he reached Dempster's door he

  turned and entered without knocking.

  Janet was startled. Mr Pilgrim would never enter in that way unless there were

  some one very ill in the house. It was her husband; she felt certain of it at

  once. Something had happened to him. Without a moment's pause, she ran across

  the street, opened the door and entered. There was no one in the passage. The

  dining-room door was wide open?no one was there. Mr Pilgrim, then, was already

  up-stairs. She rushed up at once to Dempster's room?her own room. The door was

  open, and she paused in pale horror at the sight before her, which seemed to

  stand out only with the more appalling distinctness because the noon-day light

  was darkened to twilight in the chamber.

  Two strong nurses were using their utmost force to hold Dempster in bed, while

  the medical assistant was applying a sponge to his head, and Mr Pilgrim was busy

  adjusting some apparatus in the background. Dempster's face was purple and

  swollen, his eyes dilated, and fixed with a look of dire terror on something he

  seemed to see approaching him from the iron closet. He trembled violently, and

  struggled as if to jump out of bed.

  "Let me go, let me go," he said in a loud, hoarse whisper; "she's coming ...

  she's cold ... she's dead ... she'll strangle me with her black hair. Ah!" he

  shrieked aloud, "her hair is all serpents ... they're black serpents ... they

  hiss ... they hiss ... let me go ... let me go ... she wants to drag me with her

  cold arms ... her arms are serpents ...
they are great white serpents ...

  they'll twine round me ... she wants to drag me into the cold water ... her

  bosom is cold ... it is black ... it is all serpents. ..."

  "No, Robert," Janet cried, in tones of yearning pity, rushing to the side of the

  bed, and stretching out her arms towards him, "no, here is Janet. She is not

  dead?she forgives you."

  Dempster's maddened senses seemed to receive some new impression from her

  appearance. The terror gave way to range.

  "Ha! you sneaking hypocrite!" he burst out in a grating voice, "you threaten me

  ... you mean to have your revenge on me, do you? Do your worst! I've got the law

  on my side ... I know the law ... I'll hunt you down like a hare ... prove it

  ... prove that I was tampered with ... prove that I took the money ... damned

  psalm-singing maggots! I'll make a fire under you, and smoke off the whole pack

  of you ... I'll sweep you up ... I'll grind you to powder ... small powder ...

  (here his voice dropt to a low tone of shuddering disgust) ... powder on the

  bed-clothes ... running about ... black lice ... they are coming in swarms ...

  Janet! come and take them away ... curse you! why don't you come? Janet!"

  Poor Janet was kneeling by the bed with her face buried in her hands. She almost

  wished her worst moment back again rather than this. It seemed as if her husband

  was already imprisoned in misery, and she could not reach him?his ear deaf for

  ever to the sounds of love and forgiveness. His sins had made a hard crust round

  his soul; her pitying voice could not pierce it.

  "Not there, isn't she?" he went on in a defiant tone. "Why do you ask me where

  she is? I'll have every drop of yellow blood out of your veins if you come

  questioning me. Your blood is yellow ... in your purse ... running out of your

  purse ... What! you're changing it into toads, are you? They're crawling ...

  they're flying ... they're flying about my head ... the toads are flying about.

  Ostler! ostler! bring out my gig ... bring it out, you lazy beast ... ha! you'll

  follow me, will you? ... you'll fly about my head ... you've got fiery tongues

  ... Ostler! curse you! why don't you come? Janet! come and take the toads away

  ... Janet!"

  This last time he uttered her name with such a shriek of terror, that Janet

  involuntarily started up from her knees, and stood as if petrified by the

  horrible vibration. Dempster stared wildly in silence for some moments; then he

  spoke again in a hoarse whisper:?

  "Dead ... is she dead? She did it, then. She buried herself in the iron chest

  ... she left her clothes out, though ... she isn't dead ... why do you pretend

  she's dead? ... she's coming ... she's coming out of the iron closet ... there

  are the black serpents ... stop her ... let me go ... stop her ... she wants to

  drag me away into the cold black water ... her bosom is black ... it is all

  serpents ... they are getting longer ... the great white serpents are getting

  longer. ..."

  Here Mr Pilgrim came forward with the apparatus to bind him, but Dempster's

  struggles became more and more violent. "Ostler! ostler!" he shouted, "bring out

  the gig ... give me the whip!"?and bursting loose from the strong hands that

  held him, he began to flog the bed-clothes furiously with his right arm.

  "Get along, you lame brute!?sc?sc?sc! that's it! there you go! They think

  they've outwitted me, do they? The sneaking idiots! I'll be up with them

  by-and-by. I'll make them say the Lord's Prayer backwards ... I'll pepper them

  so that the devil shall eat them raw ... sc?sc ?sc?we shall see who'll be the

  winner yet ... get along, you damned limping beast ... I'll lay your back open

  ... I'll. ..."

  He raised himself with a stronger effort than ever to flog the bed-clothes, and

  fell back in convulsions. Janet gave a scream, and sank on her knees again. She

  thought he was dead.

  As soon as Mr. Pilgrim was able to give her a moment's attention, he came to

  her, and, taking her by the arm, attempted to draw her gently out of the room.