Chapter XIV
"Three days have elapsed since this occurrence. I have been haunted byperpetual inquietude. To bring myself to regard Carwin without terror,and to acquiesce in the belief of your safety, was impossible. Yet toput an end to my doubts, seemed to be impracticable. If some light couldbe reflected on the actual situation of this man, a direct path wouldpresent itself. If he were, contrary to the tenor of his conversation,cunning and malignant, to apprize you of this, would be to place you insecurity. If he were merely unfortunate and innocent, most readily wouldI espouse his cause; and if his intentions were upright with regard toyou, most eagerly would I sanctify your choice by my approbation.
"It would be vain to call upon Carwin for an avowal of his deeds. It wasbetter to know nothing, than to be deceived by an artful tale. What hewas unwilling to communicate, and this unwillingness had been repeatedlymanifested, could never be extorted from him. Importunity might beappeased, or imposture effected by fallacious representations. To therest of the world he was unknown. I had often made him the subject ofdiscourse; but a glimpse of his figure in the street was the sum oftheir knowledge who knew most. None had ever seen him before, andreceived as new, the information which my intercourse with him inValencia, and my present intercourse, enabled me to give.
"Wieland was your brother. If he had really made you the object of hiscourtship, was not a brother authorized to interfere and demand from himthe confession of his views? Yet what were the grounds on which I hadreared this supposition? Would they justify a measure like this? Surelynot.
"In the course of my restless meditations, it occurred to me, at length,that my duty required me to speak to you, to confess the indecorum ofwhich I had been guilty, and to state the reflections to which it hadled me. I was prompted by no mean or selfish views. The heart within mybreast was not more precious than your safety: most cheerfully wouldI have interposed my life between you and danger. Would you cherishresentment at my conduct? When acquainted with the motive whichproduced it, it would not only exempt me from censure, but entitle me togratitude.
"Yesterday had been selected for the rehearsal of the newly-importedtragedy. I promised to be present. The state of my thoughts but littlequalified me for a performer or auditor in such a scene; but I reflectedthat, after it was finished, I should return home with you, and shouldthen enjoy an opportunity of discoursing with you fully on this topic.My resolution was not formed without a remnant of doubt, as to itspropriety. When I left this house to perform the visit I had promised,my mind was full of apprehension and despondency. The dubiousness ofthe event of our conversation, fear that my interference was too late tosecure your peace, and the uncertainty to which hope gave birth, whetherI had not erred in believing you devoted to this man, or, at least, inimagining that he had obtained your consent to midnight conferences,distracted me with contradictory opinions, and repugnant emotions.
"I can assign no reason for calling at Mrs. Baynton's. I had seen herin the morning, and knew her to be well. The concerted hour had nearlyarrived, and yet I turned up the street which leads to her house, anddismounted at her door. I entered the parlour and threw myself in achair. I saw and inquired for no one. My whole frame was overpoweredby dreary and comfortless sensations. One idea possessed me wholly;the inexpressible importance of unveiling the designs and character ofCarwin, and the utter improbability that this ever would be effected.Some instinct induced me to lay my hand upon a newspaper. I had perusedall the general intelligence it contained in the morning, and at thesame spot. The act was rather mechanical than voluntary.
"I threw a languid glance at the first column that presented itself.The first words which I read, began with the offer of a reward of threehundred guineas for the apprehension of a convict under sentence ofdeath, who had escaped from Newgate prison in Dublin. Good heaven! howevery fibre of my frame tingled when I proceeded to read that the nameof the criminal was Francis Carwin!
"The descriptions of his person and address were minute. His stature,hair, complexion, the extraordinary position and arrangement of hisfeatures, his aukward and disproportionate form, his gesture and gait,corresponded perfectly with those of our mysterious visitant. He hadbeen found guilty in two indictments. One for the murder of the LadyJane Conway, and the other for a robbery committed on the person of thehonorable Mr. Ludloe.
"I repeatedly perused this passage. The ideas which flowed in upon mymind, affected me like an instant transition from death to life. Thepurpose dearest to my heart was thus effected, at a time and by meansthe least of all others within the scope of my foresight. But whatpurpose? Carwin was detected. Acts of the blackest and most sordidguilt had been committed by him. Here was evidence which imparted tomy understanding the most luminous certainty. The name, visage, anddeportment, were the same. Between the time of his escape, and hisappearance among us, there was a sufficient agreement. Such was theman with whom I suspected you to maintain a clandestine correspondence.Should I not haste to snatch you from the talons of this vulture? ShouldI see you rushing to the verge of a dizzy precipice, and not stretchforth a hand to pull you back? I had no need to deliberate. I thrust thepaper in my pocket, and resolved to obtain an immediate conference withyou. For a time, no other image made its way to my understanding. Atlength, it occurred to me, that though the information I possessedwas, in one sense, sufficient, yet if more could be obtained, more wasdesirable. This passage was copied from a British paper; part of itonly, perhaps, was transcribed. The printer was in possession of theoriginal.
"Towards his house I immediately turned my horse's head. He produced thepaper, but I found nothing more than had already been seen. While busyin perusing it, the printer stood by my side. He noticed the objectof which I was in search. "Aye," said he, "that is a strange affair. Ishould never have met with it, had not Mr. Hallet sent to me the paper,with a particular request to republish that advertisement."
"Mr. Hallet! What reasons could he have for making this request? Hadthe paper sent to him been accompanied by any information respectingthe convict? Had he personal or extraordinary reasons for desiring itsrepublication? This was to be known only in one way. I speeded tohis house. In answer to my interrogations, he told me that Ludloe hadformerly been in America, and that during his residence in thiscity, considerable intercourse had taken place between them. Hence aconfidence arose, which has since been kept alive by occasional letters.He had lately received a letter from him, enclosing the newspaper fromwhich this extract had been made. He put it into my hands, and pointedout the passages which related to Carwin.
"Ludloe confirms the facts of his conviction and escape; and adds, thathe had reason to believe him to have embarked for America. He describeshim in general terms, as the most incomprehensible and formidable amongmen; as engaged in schemes, reasonably suspected to be, in the highestdegree, criminal, but such as no human intelligence is able to unravel:that his ends are pursued by means which leave it in doubt whether he benot in league with some infernal spirit: that his crimes have hithertobeen perpetrated with the aid of some unknown but desperate accomplices:that he wages a perpetual war against the happiness of mankind, and setshis engines of destruction at work against every object that presentsitself.
"This is the substance of the letter. Hallet expressed some surprizeat the curiosity which was manifested by me on this occasion. I was toomuch absorbed by the ideas suggested by this letter, to pay attention tohis remarks. I shuddered with the apprehension of the evil to which ourindiscreet familiarity with this man had probably exposed us. I burntwith impatience to see you, and to do what in me lay to avert thecalamity which threatened us. It was already five o'clock. Night washastening, and there was no time to be lost. On leaving Mr. Hallet'shouse, who should meet me in the street, but Bertrand, the servant whomI left in Germany. His appearance and accoutrements bespoke him to havejust alighted from a toilsome and long journey. I was not wholly withoutexpectation of seeing him about this time, but no one was then moredistant from my thoughts. You know what r
easons I have for anxietyrespecting scenes with which this man was conversant. Carwin was for amoment forgotten. In answer to my vehement inquiries, Bertrand produceda copious packet. I shall not at present mention its contents, nor themeasures which they obliged me to adopt. I bestowed a brief perusal onthese papers, and having given some directions to Bertrand, resumedmy purpose with regard to you. My horse I was obliged to resign to myservant, he being charged with a commission that required speed. Theclock had struck ten, and Mettingen was five miles distant. I wasto Journey thither on foot. These circumstances only added to myexpedition.
"As I passed swiftly along, I reviewed all the incidents accompanyingthe appearance and deportment of that man among us. Late events havebeen inexplicable and mysterious beyond any of which I have either reador heard. These events were coeval with Carwin's introduction. I amunable to explain their origin and mutual dependance; but I do not, onthat account, believe them to have a supernatural origin. Is not thisman the agent? Some of them seem to be propitious; but what shouldI think of those threats of assassination with which you were latelyalarmed? Bloodshed is the trade, and horror is the element of this man.The process by which the sympathies of nature are extinguished inour hearts, by which evil is made our good, and by which we are madesusceptible of no activity but in the infliction, and no joy but in thespectacle of woes, is an obvious process. As to an alliance with evilgeniuses, the power and the malice of daemons have been a thousand timesexemplified in human beings. There are no devils but those which arebegotten upon selfishness, and reared by cunning.
"Now, indeed, the scene was changed. It was not his secret poniardthat I dreaded. It was only the success of his efforts to make you aconfederate in your own destruction, to make your will the instrument bywhich he might bereave you of liberty and honor.
"I took, as usual, the path through your brother's ground. I rangedwith celerity and silence along the bank. I approached the fence, whichdivides Wieland's estate from yours. The recess in the bank being nearthis line, it being necessary for me to pass near it, my mind beingtainted with inveterate suspicions concerning you; suspicions which wereindebted for their strength to incidents connected with this spot; whatwonder that it seized upon my thoughts! "I leaped on the fence; butbefore I descended on the opposite side, I paused to survey the scene.Leaves dropping with dew, and glistening in the moon's rays, with nomoving object to molest the deep repose, filled me with securityand hope. I left the station at length, and tended forward. You wereprobably at rest. How should I communicate without alarming you, theintelligence of my arrival? An immediate interview was to be procured.I could not bear to think that a minute should be lost by remissnessor hesitation. Should I knock at the door? or should I stand under yourchamber windows, which I perceived to be open, and awaken you by mycalls?
"These reflections employed me, as I passed opposite to thesummer-house. I had scarcely gone by, when my ear caught a sound unusualat this time and place. It was almost too faint and too transient toallow me a distinct perception of it. I stopped to listen; presentlyit was heard again, and now it was somewhat in a louder key. It waslaughter; and unquestionably produced by a female voice. That voice wasfamiliar to my senses. It was yours.
"Whence it came, I was at first at a loss to conjecture; but thisuncertainty vanished when it was heard the third time. I threw back myeyes towards the recess. Every other organ and limb was useless to me.I did not reason on the subject. I did not, in a direct manner, drawmy conclusions from the hour, the place, the hilarity which this soundbetokened, and the circumstance of having a companion, which it no lessincontestably proved. In an instant, as it were, my heart was invadedwith cold, and the pulses of life at a stand.
"Why should I go further? Why should I return? Should I not hurry to adistance from a sound, which, though formerly so sweet and delectable,was now more hideous than the shrieks of owls?
"I had no time to yield to this impulse. The thought of approaching andlistening occurred to me. I had no doubt of which I was conscious. Yetmy certainty was capable of increase. I was likewise stimulated by asentiment that partook of rage. I was governed by an half-formed andtempestuous resolution to break in upon your interview, and strike youdead with my upbraiding.
"I approached with the utmost caution. When I reached the edge of thebank immediately above the summer-house, I thought I heard voices frombelow, as busy in conversation. The steps in the rock are clear ofbushy impediments. They allowed me to descend into a cavity besidethe building without being detected. Thus to lie in wait could only bejustified by the momentousness of the occasion."
Here Pleyel paused in his narrative, and fixed his eyes upon me.Situated as I was, my horror and astonishment at this tale gave way tocompassion for the anguish which the countenance of my friend betrayed.I reflected on his force of understanding. I reflected on the powers ofmy enemy. I could easily divine the substance of the conversation thatwas overheard. Carwin had constructed his plot in a manner suited to thecharacters of those whom he had selected for his victims. I saw that theconvictions of Pleyel were immutable. I forbore to struggle against thestorm, because I saw that all struggles would be fruitless. I was calm;but my calmness was the torpor of despair, and not the tranquillity offortitude. It was calmness invincible by any thing that his grief andhis fury could suggest to Pleyel. He resumed--
"Woman! wilt thou hear me further? Shall I go on to repeat theconversation? Is it shame that makes thee tongue-tied? Shall I go on? orart thou satisfied with what has been already said?"
I bowed my head. "Go on," said I. "I make not this request in the hopeof undeceiving you. I shall no longer contend with my own weakness. Thestorm is let loose, and I shall peaceably submit to be driven by itsfury. But go on. This conference will end only with affording me aclearer foresight of my destiny; but that will be some satisfaction, andI will not part without it."
Why, on hearing these words, did Pleyel hesitate? Did some unlooked-fordoubt insinuate itself into his mind? Was his belief suddenly shakenby my looks, or my words, or by some newly recollected circumstance?Whencesoever it arose, it could not endure the test of deliberation. Ina few minutes the flame of resentment was again lighted up in his bosom.He proceeded with his accustomed vehemence--
"I hate myself for this folly. I can find no apology for this tale. YetI am irresistibly impelled to relate it. She that hears me is apprizedof every particular. I have only to repeat to her her own words. Shewill listen with a tranquil air, and the spectacle of her obduracy willdrive me to some desperate act. Why then should I persist! yet persist Imust."
Again he paused. "No," said he, "it is impossible to repeat your avowalsof love, your appeals to former confessions of your tenderness, toformer deeds of dishonor, to the circumstances of the first interviewthat took place between you. It was on that night when I traced you tothis recess. Thither had he enticed you, and there had you ratified anunhallowed compact by admitting him--
"Great God! Thou witnessedst the agonies that tore my bosom at thatmoment! Thou witnessedst my efforts to repel the testimony of my ears!It was in vain that you dwelt upon the confusion which my unlooked-forsummons excited in you; the tardiness with which a suitable excuseoccurred to you; your resentment that my impertinent intrusion hadput an end to that charming interview: A disappointment for which youendeavoured to compensate yourself, by the frequency and duration ofsubsequent meetings.
"In vain you dwelt upon incidents of which you only could be conscious;incidents that occurred on occasions on which none beside your ownfamily were witnesses. In vain was your discourse characterized bypeculiarities inimitable of sentiment and language. My conviction waseffected only by an accumulation of the same tokens. I yielded not butto evidence which took away the power to withhold my faith.
"My sight was of no use to me. Beneath so thick an umbrage, the darknesswas intense. Hearing was the only avenue to information, which thecircumstances allowed to be open. I was couched within three feetof you. Why should I approach nearer? I c
ould not contend with yourbetrayer. What could be the purpose of a contest? You stood in no needof a protector. What could I do, but retire from the spot overwhelmedwith confusion and dismay? I sought my chamber, and endeavoured toregain my composure. The door of the house, which I found open, yoursubsequent entrance, closing, and fastening it, and going into yourchamber, which had been thus long deserted, were only confirmations ofthe truth.
"Why should I paint the tempestuous fluctuation of my thoughts betweengrief and revenge, between rage and despair? Why should I repeat my vowsof eternal implacability and persecution, and the speedy recantation ofthese vows?
"I have said enough. You have dismissed me from a place in your esteem.What I think, and what I feel, is of no importance in your eyes. Maythe duty which I owe myself enable me to forget your existence. In afew minutes I go hence. Be the maker of your fortune, and may adversityinstruct you in that wisdom, which education was unable to impart toyou."
Those were the last words which Pleyel uttered. He left the room, andmy new emotions enabled me to witness his departure without any apparentloss of composure. As I sat alone, I ruminated on these incidents.Nothing was more evident than that I had taken an eternal leave ofhappiness. Life was a worthless thing, separate from that good which hadnow been wrested from me; yet the sentiment that now possessed me had notendency to palsy my exertions, and overbear my strength. I noticed thatthe light was declining, and perceived the propriety of leaving thishouse. I placed myself again in the chaise, and returned slowly towardsthe city.