Chapter XV
Before I reached the city it was dusk. It was my purpose to spend thenight at Mettingen. I was not solicitous, as long as I was attended bya faithful servant, to be there at an early hour. My exhausted strengthrequired me to take some refreshment. With this view, and in order topay respect to one whose affection for me was truly maternal, I stoppedat Mrs. Baynton's. She was absent from home; but I had scarcely enteredthe house when one of her domestics presented me a letter. I opened andread as follows:
"To Clara Wieland,
"What shall I say to extenuate the misconduct of last night? It is myduty to repair it to the utmost of my power, but the only way in whichit can be repaired, you will not, I fear, be prevailed on to adopt. Itis by granting me an interview, at your own house, at eleven o'clockthis night. I have no means of removing any fears that you may entertainof my designs, but my simple and solemn declarations. These, after whathas passed between us, you may deem unworthy of confidence. I cannothelp it. My folly and rashness has left me no other resource. I willbe at your door by that hour. If you chuse to admit me to a conference,provided that conference has no witnesses, I will disclose to youparticulars, the knowledge of which is of the utmost importance to yourhappiness. Farewell.
"CARWIN."
What a letter was this! A man known to be an assassin and robber; onecapable of plotting against my life and my fame; detected lurking inmy chamber, and avowing designs the most flagitious and dreadful, nowsolicits me to grant him a midnight interview! To admit him alone intomy presence! Could he make this request with the expectation of mycompliance? What had he seen in me, that could justify him in admittingso wild a belief? Yet this request is preferred with the utmost gravity.It is not accompanied by an appearance of uncommon earnestness. Hadthe misconduct to which he alludes been a slight incivility, and theinterview requested to take place in the midst of my friends, therewould have been no extravagance in the tenor of this letter; but, as itwas, the writer had surely been bereft of his reason.
I perused this epistle frequently. The request it contained might becalled audacious or stupid, if it had been made by a different person;but from Carwin, who could not be unaware of the effect which it mustnaturally produce, and of the manner in which it would unavoidably betreated, it was perfectly inexplicable. He must have counted on thesuccess of some plot, in order to extort my assent. None of thosemotives by which I am usually governed would ever have persuaded me tomeet any one of his sex, at the time and place which he had prescribed.Much less would I consent to a meeting with a man, tainted with themost detestable crimes, and by whose arts my own safety had been soimminently endangered, and my happiness irretrievably destroyed. Ishuddered at the idea that such a meeting was possible. I felt somereluctance to approach a spot which he still visited and haunted.
Such were the ideas which first suggested themselves on the perusal ofthe letter. Meanwhile, I resumed my journey. My thoughts still dweltupon the same topic. Gradually from ruminating on this epistle, Ireverted to my interview with Pleyel. I recalled the particulars of thedialogue to which he had been an auditor. My heart sunk anew on viewingthe inextricable complexity of this deception, and the inauspiciousconcurrence of events, which tended to confirm him in his error. Whenhe approached my chamber door, my terror kept me mute. He put his ear,perhaps, to the crevice, but it caught the sound of nothing human. HadI called, or made any token that denoted some one to be within, wordswould have ensued; and as omnipresence was impossible, this discovery,and the artless narrative of what had just passed, would have saved mefrom his murderous invectives. He went into his chamber, and after someinterval, I stole across the entry and down the stairs, withinaudible steps. Having secured the outer doors, I returned with lesscircumspection. He heard me not when I descended; but my returning stepswere easily distinguished. Now he thought was the guilty interview atan end. In what other way was it possible for him to construe thesesignals?
How fallacious and precipitate was my decision! Carwin's plot owed itssuccess to a coincidence of events scarcely credible. The balance wasswayed from its equipoise by a hair. Had I even begun the conversationwith an account of what befel me in my chamber, my previous interviewwith Wieland would have taught him to suspect me of imposture; yet, ifI were discoursing with this ruffian, when Pleyel touched the lock of mychamber door, and when he shut his own door with so much violence, how,he might ask, should I be able to relate these incidents? Perhaps hehad withheld the knowledge of these circumstances from my brother, fromwhom, therefore, I could not obtain it, so that my innocence would havethus been irresistibly demonstrated.
The first impulse which flowed from these ideas was to return upon mysteps, and demand once more an interview; but he was gone: his partingdeclarations were remembered.
Pleyel, I exclaimed, thou art gone for ever! Are thy mistakes beyondthe reach of detection? Am I helpless in the midst of this snare?The plotter is at hand. He even speaks in the style of penitence. Hesolicits an interview which he promises shall end in the disclosure ofsomething momentous to my happiness. What can he say which will avail toturn aside this evil? But why should his remorse be feigned? I havedone him no injury. His wickedness is fertile only of despair; and thebillows of remorse will some time overbear him. Why may not this eventhave already taken place? Why should I refuse to see him?
This idea was present, as it were, for a moment. I suddenly recoiledfrom it, confounded at that frenzy which could give even momentaryharbour to such a scheme; yet presently it returned. At length I evenconceived it to deserve deliberation. I questioned whether it wasnot proper to admit, at a lonely spot, in a sacred hour, this man oftremendous and inscrutable attributes, this performer of horrid deeds,and whose presence was predicted to call down unheard-of and unutterablehorrors.
What was it that swayed me? I felt myself divested of the power to willcontrary to the motives that determined me to seek his presence. My mindseemed to be split into separate parts, and these parts to haveentered into furious and implacable contention. These tumults graduallysubsided. The reasons why I should confide in that interposition whichhad hitherto defended me; in those tokens of compunction which thisletter contained; in the efficacy of this interview to restore itsspotlessness to my character, and banish all illusions from the mind ofmy friend, continually acquired new evidence and new strength.
What should I fear in his presence? This was unlike an artifice intendedto betray me into his hands. If it were an artifice, what purpose wouldit serve? The freedom of my mind was untouched, and that freedom woulddefy the assaults of blandishments or magic. Force was I not able torepel. On the former occasion my courage, it is true, had failed at theimminent approach of danger; but then I had not enjoyed opportunities ofdeliberation; I had foreseen nothing; I was sunk into imbecility by myprevious thoughts; I had been the victim of recent disappointmentsand anticipated ills: Witness my infatuation in opening the closet inopposition to divine injunctions.
Now, perhaps, my courage was the offspring of a no less erringprinciple. Pleyel was for ever lost to me. I strove in vain to assumehis person, and suppress my resentment; I strove in vain to believe inthe assuaging influence of time, to look forward to the birth-day of newhopes, and the re-exaltation of that luminary, of whose effulgencies Ihad so long and so liberally partaken.
What had I to suffer worse than was already inflicted?
Was not Carwin my foe? I owed my untimely fate to his treason. Insteadof flying from his presence, ought I not to devote all my faculties tothe gaining of an interview, and compel him to repair the ills ofwhich he has been the author? Why should I suppose him impregnableto argument? Have I not reason on my side, and the power of impartingconviction? Cannot he be made to see the justice of unravelling the mazein which Pleyel is bewildered?
He may, at least, be accessible to fear. Has he nothing to fear fromthe rage of an injured woman? But suppose him inaccessible to suchinducements; suppose him to persist in all his flagitious purposes; arenot the means of de
fence and resistance in my power?
In the progress of such thoughts, was the resolution at last formed. Ihoped that the interview was sought by him for a laudable end; but, bethat as it would, I trusted that, by energy of reasoning or of action, Ishould render it auspicious, or, at least, harmless.
Such a determination must unavoidably fluctuate. The poet's chaos wasno unapt emblem of the state of my mind. A torment was awakened in mybosom, which I foresaw would end only when this interview was past, andits consequences fully experienced. Hence my impatience for the arrivalof the hour which had been prescribed by Carwin.
Meanwhile, my meditations were tumultuously active. New impedimentsto the execution of the scheme were speedily suggested. I had apprizedCatharine of my intention to spend this and many future nights with her.Her husband was informed of this arrangement, and had zealously approvedit. Eleven o'clock exceeded their hour of retiring. What excuse shouldI form for changing my plan? Should I shew this letter to Wieland, andsubmit myself to his direction? But I knew in what way he would decide.He would fervently dissuade me from going. Nay, would he not do more?He was apprized of the offences of Carwin, and of the reward offeredfor his apprehension. Would he not seize this opportunity of executingjustice on a criminal?
This idea was new. I was plunged once more into doubt. Did not equityenjoin me thus to facilitate his arrest? No. I disdained the office ofbetrayer. Carwin was unapprized of his danger, and his intentions werepossibly beneficent. Should I station guards about the house, andmake an act, intended perhaps for my benefit, instrumental to his owndestruction? Wieland might be justified in thus employing the knowledgewhich I should impart, but I, by imparting it, should pollute myselfwith more hateful crimes than those undeservedly imputed to me. Thisscheme, therefore, I unhesitatingly rejected. The views with whichI should return to my own house, it would therefore be necessary toconceal. Yet some pretext must be invented. I had never been initiatedinto the trade of lying. Yet what but falshood was a deliberatesuppression of the truth? To deceive by silence or by words is the same.
Yet what would a lie avail me? What pretext would justify this change inmy plan? Would it not tend to confirm the imputations of Pleyel? ThatI should voluntarily return to an house in which honor and life had solately been endangered, could be explained in no way favorable to myintegrity.
These reflections, if they did not change, at least suspended mydecision. In this state of uncertainty I alighted at the HUT. We gavethis name to the house tenanted by the farmer and his servants, andwhich was situated on the verge of my brother's ground, and at aconsiderable distance from the mansion. The path to the mansion wasplanted by a double row of walnuts. Along this path I proceeded alone.I entered the parlour, in which was a light just expiring in the socket.There was no one in the room. I perceived by the clock that stoodagainst the wall, that it was near eleven. The lateness of the hourstartled me. What had become of the family? They were usually retiredan hour before this; but the unextinguished taper, and the unbarreddoor were indications that they had not retired. I again returned to thehall, and passed from one room to another, but still encountered not ahuman being.
I imagined that, perhaps, the lapse of a few minutes would explainthese appearances. Meanwhile I reflected that the preconcerted hour hadarrived. Carwin was perhaps waiting my approach. Should I immediatelyretire to my own house, no one would be apprized of my proceeding. Nay,the interview might pass, and I be enabled to return in half an hour.Hence no necessity would arise for dissimulation.
I was so far influenced by these views that I rose to execute thisdesign; but again the unusual condition of the house occurred to me, andsome vague solicitude as to the condition of the family. I was nearlycertain that my brother had not retired; but by what motives he couldbe induced to desert his house thus unseasonably I could by no meansdivine. Louisa Conway, at least, was at home and had, probably, retiredto her chamber; perhaps she was able to impart the information I wanted.
I went to her chamber, and found her asleep. She was delighted andsurprized at my arrival, and told me with how much impatience andanxiety my brother and his wife had waited my coming. They were fearfulthat some mishap had befallen me, and had remained up longer than theusual period. Notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, Catharine wouldnot resign the hope of seeing me. Louisa said she had left them both inthe parlour, and she knew of no cause for their absence.
As yet I was not without solicitude on account of their personal safety.I was far from being perfectly at ease on that head, but entertained nodistinct conception of the danger that impended over them. Perhaps tobeguile the moments of my long protracted stay, they had gone towalk upon the bank. The atmosphere, though illuminated only by thestar-light, was remarkably serene. Meanwhile the desirableness of aninterview with Carwin again returned, and I finally resolved to seek it.
I passed with doubting and hasty steps along the path. My dwelling, seenat a distance, was gloomy and desolate. It had no inhabitant, for myservant, in consequence of my new arrangement, had gone to Mettingen.The temerity of this attempt began to shew itself in more vivid coloursto my understanding. Whoever has pointed steel is not without arms; yetwhat must have been the state of my mind when I could meditate, withoutshuddering, on the use of a murderous weapon, and believe myself securemerely because I was capable of being made so by the death of another?Yet this was not my state. I felt as if I was rushing into deadly toils,without the power of pausing or receding.