Foul Play

  CHAPTER III.

  MR. WARDLAW went down to his son and nursed him. He kept the newspapersfrom him, and, on his fever abating, had him conveyed by easy stages tothe seaside, and then sent him abroad.

  The young man obeyed in gloomy silence. He never asked after RobertPenfold, now; never mentioned his name. He seemed, somehow, thankful tobe controlled mind and body.

  But, before he had been abroad a month, he wrote for leave to return homeand to throw himself into business. There was, for once, a nervousimpatience in his letters, and his father, who pitied him deeply, and wasmore than ever inclined to reward and indulge him, yielded readilyenough; and, on his arrival, signed the partnership deed, and,Polonius-like, gave him much good counsel; then retired to his countryseat.

  At first he used to run up every three days, and examine the day-book andledger, and advise his junior; but these visits soon became fewer, and atlast he did little more than correspond occasionally.

  Arthur Wardlaw held the reins, and easily paid his Oxford debts out ofthe assets of the firm. Not being happy in his mind, he threw himselfinto commerce with feverish zeal, and very soon extended the operationsof the house.

  One of his first acts of authority was to send for Michael Penfold intohis room. Now poor old Michael, ever since his son's misfortune, as hecalled it, had crept to his desk like a culprit, expecting every day tobe discharged. When he received this summons he gave a sigh and wentslowly to the young merchant.

  Arthur Wardlaw looked up at his entrance, then looked down again, andsaid coldly, "Mr. Penfold, you have been a faithful servant to us manyyears; I raise your salary fifty pounds a year, and you will keep theledger."

  The old man was dumfounded at first, and then began to give vent to hissurprise and gratitude; but Wardlaw cut him short, almost fiercely."There, there, there," said he, without raising his eyes, "let me hear nomore about it, and, above all, never speak to me of that cursed business.It was no fault of yours, nor mine neither. There--go--I want no thanks.Do you hear? leave me, Mr. Penfold, if you please."

  The old man bowed low and retired, wondering much at his employer'sgoodness, and a little at his irritability.

  Wardlaw junior's whole soul was given to business night and day, and hesoon became known for a very ambitious and rising merchant. But, by andby, ambition had to encounter a rival in his heart. He fell in love;deeply in love; and with a worthy object.

  The young lady was the daughter of a distinguished officer, whose meritswere universally recognized, but not rewarded in proportion. Wardlaw'ssuit was favorably received by the father, and the daughter graduallyyielded to an attachment the warmth, sincerity and singleness of whichwere manifest. And the pair would have been married but for thecircumstance that her father (partly through Wardlaw's influence, by theby) had obtained a lucrative post abroad which it suited his means toaccept, at all events for a time. He was a widower, and his daughtercould not let him go alone.

  This temporary separation, if it postponed a marriage, led naturally to asolemn engagement; and Arthur Wardlaw enjoyed the happiness of writingand receiving affectionate letters by every foreign post. Love, worthilybestowed, shed its balm upon his heart, and, under its soft but powerfulcharm, he grew tranquil and complacent, and his character and temperseemed to improve. Such virtue is there in a pure attachment.

  Meanwhile the extent of his operations alarmed old Penfold; but he soonreasoned that worthy down with overpowering conclusions and superiorsmiles.

  He had been three years the ruling spirit of Wardlaw & Son, when somecurious events took place in another hemisphere; and in these events,which we are now to relate, Arthur Wardlaw was more nearly interestedthan may appear at first sight.

  Robert Penfold, in due course, applied to Lieutenant-General Rollestonfor a ticket of leave. That functionary thought the applicationpremature, the crime being so grave. He complained that the system hadbecome too lax, and for his part he seldom gave a ticket-of-leave untilsome suitable occupation was provided for the applicant. "Will anybodytake you as a clerk? If so, I'll see about it."

  Robert Penfold could find nobody to take him into a post of confidenceall at once, and wrote the general an eloquent letter, begging hard to beallowed to labor with his hands.

  Fortunately, General Rolleston's gardener had just turned him off; so heoffered the post to his eloquent correspondent, remarking that he did notmuch mind employing a ticket-of-leave man himself, though he was resolvedto protect his neighbors from their relapses.

  The convict then came to General Rolleston, and begged leave to enter onhis duties under the name of James Seaton. At that General Rollestonhem'd and haw'd, and took a note. But his final decision was as follows:"If you really mean to change your character, why, the name you havedisgraced might hang round your neck. Well, I'll give you every chance.But," said this old warrior, suddenly compressing his resolute lips justa little, "if you go a yard off the straight path _now,_ look for nomercy, Jemmy Seaton."

  So the convict was re-christened at the tail of a threat, and let looseamong the warrior's tulips.

  His appearance was changed as effectually as his name. Even before he wasSeatoned he had grown a silky mustache and beard of singular length andbeauty; and, what with these and his workingman's clothes, and his cheeksand neck tanned by the sun, our readers would never have recognized inthis hale, bearded laborer the pale prisoner that had trembled, raged,wept and submitted in the dock of the Central Criminal Court.

  Our universities cure men of doing things by halves, be the things mentalor muscular; so Seaton gardened much more zealously than his plebeianpredecessor: up at five, and did not leave till eight.

  But he was unpopular in the kitchen--because he was always out of it.Taciturn and bitter, he shunned his fellow-servants.

  Yet working among the flowers did him good; these his pretty companionsand nurslings had no vices.

  One day, as he was rolling the grass upon the lawn, he heard a softrustle at some distance, and, looking round, saw a young lady on thegravel path, whose calm but bright face, coming so suddenly, literallydazzled him. She had a clear cheek blooming with exercise, rich brownhair, smooth, glossy and abundant, and a very light hazel eye, ofsingular beauty and serenity. She glided along, tranquil as a goddess,smote him with beauty and perfume, and left him staring after herreceding figure, which was, in its way, as captivating as her face.

  She was walking up and down for exercise, briskly, but without effort.Once she passed within a few yards of him, and he touched his hat to her.She inclined her head gently, but her eyes did not rest an instant on hergardener; and so she passed and repassed, unconsciously sawing thissolitary heart with soft but penetrating thrills.

  At last she went indoors to luncheon, and the lawn seemed to miss thelight music of her rustling dress, and the sunshine of her presence, andthere was a painful void; but that passed, and a certain sense ofhappiness stole over James Seaton--an unreasonable joy, that often runsbefore folly and trouble.

  The young lady was Helen Rolleston, just returned home from a visit. Shewalked in the garden every day, and Seaton watched her, and peeped ather, unseen, behind trees and bushes. He fed his eyes and his heart uponher, and, by degrees, she became the sun of his solitary existence. Itwas madness; but its first effect was not unwholesome. The daily study ofthis creature, who, though by no means the angel he took her for, was atall events a pure and virtuous woman, soothed his sore heart, andcounteracted the demoralizing influence of his late companions. Every dayhe drank deeper of an insane but purifying and elevating passion.

  He avoided the kitchen still more; and that, by the by, was unlucky; forthere he could have learned something about Miss Helen Rolleston thatwould have warned him to keep at the other end of the garden wheneverthat charming face and form glided to and fro among the minor flowers.

  A beautiful face fires our imagination, and we see higher virtue andintelligence in it than we can detect in its owner's head or heart whenwe descend to calm inspection. Jame
s Seaton gazed on Miss Rolleston dayafter day, at so respectful a distance that she became his goddess. If aday passed without his seeing her, he was dejected. When she was behindher time, he was restless, anxious, and his work distasteful; and then,when she came out at last, he thrilled all over, and the lawn, ay, theworld itself, seemed to fill with sunshine. His adoration, timid by itsown nature, was doubly so by reason of his fallen and hopeless condition.He cut nosegays for her; but gave them to her maid Wilson for her. He hadnot the courage to offer them to herself.

  One evening, as he went home, a man addressed him familiarly, but in alow voice. Seaton looked at him attentively, and recognized him at last.It was a convict called Butt, who had come over in the ship with him. Theman offered him a glass of ale; Seaton declined it. Butt, a very cleverrogue, seemed hurt. So then Seaton assented reluctantly. Butt took him toa public house in a narrow street, and into a private room. Seatonstarted as soon as he entered, for there sat two repulsive ruffians, and,by a look that passed rapidly between them and Butt, he saw plainly thatthey were waiting for him. He felt nervous; the place was so uncouth anddark, the faces so villainous.

  However, they invited him to sit down, roughly, but with an air of goodfellowship; and very soon opened their business over their ale. We areall bound to assist our fellow-creatures, when it can be done withouttrouble; and what they asked of him was a simple act of courtesy, such asin their opinion no man worthy of the name could deny to his fellow. Itwas to give General Rolleston's watchdog a piece of prepared meat upon acertain evening. And, in return for this trifling civility, they weregenerous enough to offer him a full share of any light valuables theymight find in the general's house.

  Seaton trembled, and put his face in his hands a moment. "I cannot doit," said he.

  "Why not?"

  "He has been too good to me."

  A coarse laugh of derision greeted this argument; it seemed so irrelevantto these pure egotists. Seaton, however, persisted, and on that one ofthe men got up and stood before the door, and drew his knife gently.

  Seaton glanced his eyes round in search of a weapon, and turned pale.

  "Do you mean to split on us, mate?" said one of the ruffians in front ofhim.

  "No, I don't. But I won't rob my benefactor. You shall kill me first."And with that he darted to the fireplace, and in a moment the poker washigh in air, and the way he squared his shoulders and stood ready to hitto the on, or cut to the off, was a caution.

  "Come, drop that," said Butt, grimly; "and put up _your_ knife, Bob.Can't a pal be out of a job, and yet not split on them that is in it!"

  "Why should I split?" said Robert Penfold. "Has the law been a friend tome? But I won't rob my benefactor--and his daughter."

  "That is square enough," said Butt. "Why, pals, there are other cribs tobe cracked besides that old bloke's. Finish the ale, mate, and partfriends."

  "If you will promise me to crack some other crib, and let that onealone."

  A sullen assent was given, and Seaton drank their healths, and walkedaway. Butt followed him soon after, and affected to side with him, andintimated that he himself was capable of not robbing a man's house whohad been good to him, or to a pal of his. Indeed this plausible personsaid so much, and his sullen comrades had said so little, that Seaton,rendered keen and anxious by love, invested his savings in a Colt'srevolver and ammunition.

  He did not stop there; after the hint about the watch-dog, he would nottrust that faithful but too carnivorous animal; he brought his blanketsinto the little tool-house, and lay there every night in a sort of dog'ssleep. This tool-house was erected in a little back garden, separatedfrom the lawn only by some young trees in single file. Now MissRolleston's window looked out upon the lawn, so that Seaton's watchtowerwas not many yards from it; then, as the tool-house was only lighted fromabove, he bored a hole in the wooden structure, and through this hewatched, and slept, and watched. He used to sit studying theology by afarthing rushlight till the lady's bedtime, and then he watched for hershadow. If it appeared for a few moments on the blind, he gave a sigh ofcontent and went to sleep, but awaked every now and then to see that allwas well.

  After a few nights, his alarms naturally ceased, but his love increased,fed now from this new source, the sweet sense of being the secretprotector of her he adored.

  Meantime, Miss Rolleston's lady's maid, Wilson, fell in love with himafter her fashion; she had taken a fancy to his face at once, and he hadencouraged her a little, unintentionally; for he brought the nosegays toher, and listened complacently to her gossip, for the sake of the fewwords she let fall now and then about her young mistress. As he neverexchanged two sentences at a time with any other servant, this flatteredSarah Wilson, and she soon began to meet and accost him oftener, and incherrier-colored ribbons, than he could stand. So then he showedimpatience, and then she, reading him by herself, suspected some vulgarrival.

  Suspicion soon bred jealousy, jealousy vigilance, and vigilancedetection.

  Her first discovery was that, so long as she talked of Miss HelenRolleston, she was always welcome; her second was, that Seaton slept inthe tool-house.

  She was not romantic enough to connect her two discoveries together. Theylay apart in her mind, until circumstances we are about to relatesupplied a connecting link.

  One Thursday evening James Seaton's goddess sat alone with her papa,and--being a young lady of fair abilities, who had gone through hercourse of music and other studies, taught brainlessly, and who was nowgoing through a course of monotonous pleasures, and had not accumulatedany great store of mental resources--she was listless and languid, andwould have yawned forty times in her papa's face, only she was toowell-bred. She always turned her head away, when it came, and eithersuppressed it, or else hid it with a lovely white hand. At last, as shewas a good girl, she blushed at her behavior, and roused herself up, andsaid she, "Papa, shall I play you the new quadrilles?"

  Papa gave a start and a shake, and said, with well-feigned vehemence,"Ay, do, my dear," and so composed himself--to listen; and Helen sat downand played the quadrilles.

  The composer had taken immortal melodies, some gay, some sad, and hadrobbed them of their distinctive character and hashed them till they wereall one monotonous rattle. But General Rolleston was little the worse forall this. As Apollo saved Horace from hearing a poetaster's rhymes, sodid Somnus, another beneficent little deity, rescue our warrior from hisdaughter's music.

  She was neither angry nor surprised. A delicious smile illumined her facedirectly; she crept to him on tiptoe, and bestowed a kiss, light as azephyr, on his gray head. And, in truth, the bending attitude of thissupple figure, clad in snowy muslin, the virginal face and light hazeleyes beaming love and reverence, and the airy kiss, had somethingangelic.

  She took her candle, and glided up to her bedroom. And, the moment shegot there, and could gratify her somnolence without offense, need we sayshe became wide-awake? She sat down and wrote long letters to three otheryoung ladies, gushing affection, asking questions of the kind nobodyreplies to, painting, with a young lady's colors, the male being to whomshe was shortly to be married, wishing her dear friends a like demigod,if perchance earth contained two; and so to the last new bonnet andpreacher.

  She sat over her paper till one o'clock, and Seaton watched and adoredher shadow.

  When she had done writing, she opened her window and looked out upon thenight. She lifted those wonderful hazel eyes toward the stars, and herwatcher might well be pardoned if he saw in her a celestial being lookingup from an earthly resting place toward her native sky.

  At two o'clock she was in bed, but not asleep. She lay calmly gazing atthe Southern Cross and other lovely stars shining with vivid but chastefire in the purple vault of heaven.

  While thus employed she heard a slight sound outside that made her turnher eyes toward a young tree near her window. Its top branches werewaving a good deal, though there was not a breath stirring. This struckher as curious, very curious.

  While she won
dered, suddenly an arm and a hand came in sight, and afterthem the whole figure of a man, going up the tree.

  Helen sat up now, glaring with terror, and was so paralyzed she did notutter a sound. About a foot below her window was a lead flat that roofedthe bay-window below. It covered an area of several feet, and the mansprang on to it with perfect ease from the tree. Helen shrieked withterror. At that very instant there was a flash, a pistol-shot, and theman's arms went whirling, and he staggered and fell over the edge of theflat, and struck the grass below with a heavy thud. Shots and blowsfollowed, and all the sounds of a bloody struggle rung in Helen's ears asshe flung herself screaming from the bed and darted to the door. She ranand clung quivering to her sleepy maid, Wilson. The house was alarmed,lights flashed, footsteps pattered, there was universal commotion.

  General Rolleston soon learned his daughter's story from Wilson, andaroused his male servants, one of whom was an old soldier. They searchedthe house first; but no entrance had been effected; so they went out onthe lawn with blunderbuss and pistol.

  They found a man lying on his back at the foot of the bay window.

  They pounced on him, and, to their amazement, it was the gardener, JamesSeaton. Insensible.

  General Rolleston was quite taken aback for a moment. Then he was sorry.But, after a little reflection, he said very sternly, "Carry theblackguard indoors; and run for an officer."

  Seaton was taken into the hall and laid flat on the floor.

  All the servants gathered about him, brimful of curiosity, and the femaleones began to speak all together; but General Rolleston told them sharplyto hold their tongues, and to retire behind the man. "Somebody sprinklehim with cold water," said he; "and be quiet, all of you, and keep out ofsight, while I examine him." He stood before the insensible figure withhis arms folded, amid a dead silence, broken only by the stifled sobs ofSarah Wilson, and of a sociable housemaid who cried with her for company.

  And now Seaton began to writhe and show signs of returning sense.

  Next he moaned piteously, and sighed. But General Rolleston could notpity him; he waited grimly for returning consciousness, to subject him toa merciless interrogatory.

  He waited just one second too long. He had to answer a question insteadof putting one.

  The judgment is the last faculty a man recovers when emerging frominsensibility; and Seaton, seeing the general standing before him,stretched out his hands, and said, in a faint, but earnest voice, beforeeleven witnesses, "Is she safe? Oh, is she safe?"