33. THE ENGLISH CHANNEL--NORMANDY
On Monday morning the little steamer Speedwell made her appearance roundthe promontory by Knollsea Bay, to take in passengers for the transit toCherbourg. Breezes the freshest that could blow without verging onkeenness flew over the quivering deeps and shallows; and the sunbeamspierced every detail of barrow, path and rabbit-run upon the loftyconvexity of down and waste which shut in Knollsea from the world to thewest.
They left the pier at eight o'clock, taking at first a short easterlycourse to avoid a sinister ledge of limestones jutting from the waterlike crocodile's teeth, which first obtained notoriety in English historythrough being the spot whereon a formidable Danish fleet went to pieces athousand years ago. At the moment that the Speedwell turned to enterupon the direct course, a schooner-yacht, whose sheets gleamed likebridal satin, loosed from a remoter part of the bay; continuing to bearoff, she cut across the steamer's wake, and took a course almost duesoutherly, which was precisely that of the Speedwell. The wind was veryfavourable for the yacht, blowing a few points from north in a steadypressure on her quarter, and, having been built with every modernappliance that shipwrights could offer, the schooner found no difficultyin getting abreast, and even ahead, of the steamer, as soon as she hadescaped the shelter of the hills.
The more or less parallel courses of the vessels continued for some timewithout causing any remark among the people on board the Speedwell. Atlength one noticed the fact, and another; and then it became the generaltopic of conversation in the group upon the bridge, where Ethelberta, herhair getting frizzed and her cheeks carnationed by the wind, sat upon acamp-stool looking towards the prow.
'She is bound for Guernsey,' said one. 'In half-an-hour she will putabout for a more westerly course, you'll see.'
'She is not for Guernsey or anywhere that way,' said an acquaintance,looking through his glass. 'If she is out for anything more than amorning cruise, she is bound for our port. I should not wonder if she iscrossing to get stocked, as most of them do, to save the duty on her wineand provisions.'
'Do you know whose yacht it is?'
'I do not.'
Ethelberta looked at the light leaning figure of the pretty schooner,which seemed to skate along upon her bilge and make white shavings of allthe sea that touched her. She at first imagined that this might be theyacht Neigh had arrived in at the end of the previous week, for she knewthat he came as one of a yachting party, and she had noticed no otherboat of that sort in the bay since his arrival. But as all his party hadgone ashore and not yet returned, she was surprised to see the supposedvessel here. To add to her perplexity, she could not be positive, nowthat it came to a real nautical query, whether the craft of Neigh'sfriends had one mast or two, for she had caught but a fragmentary view ofthe topsail over the apple-trees.
'Is that the yacht which has been lying at Knollsea for the last fewdays?' she inquired of the master of the Speedwell, as soon as she had anopportunity.
The master warmed beneath his copper-coloured rind. 'O no, miss; thatone you saw was a cutter--a smaller boat altogether,' he replied. 'Builton the sliding-keel principle, you understand, miss--and red below herwater-line, if you noticed. This is Lord Mountclere's yacht--the Fawn.You might have seen her re'ching in round Old-Harry Rock this morningafore we started.'
'Lord Mountclere's?'
'Yes--a nobleman of this neighbourhood. But he don't do so much atyachting as he used to in his younger days. I believe he's aboard thismorning, however.'
Ethelberta now became more absorbed than ever in their ocean comrade, andwatched its motions continually. The schooner was considerably inadvance of them by this time, and seemed to be getting by degrees out oftheir course. She wondered if Lord Mountclere could be really going toCherbourg: if so, why had he said nothing about the trip to her when shespoke of her own approaching voyage thither? The yacht changed itscharacter in her eyes; losing the indefinite interest of the unknown, itacquired the charm of a riddle on motives, of which the alternativeswere, had Lord Mountclere's journey anything to do with her own, or hadit not? Common probability pointed to the latter supposition; but thetime of starting, the course of the yacht, and recollections of LordMountclere's homage, suggested the more extraordinary possibility.
She went across to Cornelia. 'The man who handed us on board--didn't Isee him speaking to you this morning?' she said.
'O yes,' said Cornelia. 'He asked if my mistress was the popular Mrs.Petherwin?
'And you told him, I suppose?'
'Yes.'
'What made you do that, Cornelia?'
'I thought I might: I couldn't help it. When I went through the toll-gate, such a gentlemanly-looking man asked me if he should help me tocarry the things to the end of the pier; and as we went on together hesaid he supposed me to be Mrs. Petherwin's maid. I said, "Yes." The twomen met afterwards, so there would ha' been no good in my denying it toone of 'em.'
'Who was this gentlemanly person?'
'I asked the other man that, and he told me one of Lord Mountclere'supper servants. I knew then there was no harm in having been civil tohim. He is well-mannered, and talks splendid language.'
'That yacht you see on our right hand is Lord Mountclere's property. IfI do not mistake, we shall have her closer by-and-by, and you may meetyour gentlemanly friend again. Be careful how you talk to him.'
Ethelberta sat down, thought of the meeting at Corvsgate Castle, of thedinner-party at Mr. Doncastle's, of the strange position she had therebeen in, and then of her father. She suddenly reproached herself forthoughtlessness; for in her pocket lay a letter from him, which she hadtaken from the postman that morning at the moment of coming from thedoor, and in the hurry of embarking had forgotten ever since. Opening itquickly, she read:--
'MY DEAR ETHELBERTA,--Your letter reached me yesterday, and I called round at Exonbury Crescent in the afternoon, as you wished. Everything is going on right there, and you have no occasion to be anxious about them. I do not leave town for another week or two, and by the time I am gone Sol and Dan will have returned from Paris, if your mother and Gwendoline want any help: so that you need not hurry back on their account.
'I have something else to tell you, which is not quite so satisfactory, and it is this that makes me write at once; but do not be alarmed. It began in this way. A few nights after the dinner-party here I was determined to find out if there was any truth in what you had been told about that boy, and having seen Menlove go out as usual after dark, I followed her. Sure enough, when she had got into the park, up came master Joe, smoking a cigar. As soon as they had met I went towards them, and Menlove, seeing somebody draw nigh, began to edge off, when the blockhead said, "Never mind, my love, it is only the old man." Being very provoked with both of them, though she was really the most to blame, I gave him some smart cuts across the shoulders with my cane, and told him to go home, which he did with a flea in his ear, the rascal. I believe I have cured his courting tricks for some little time.
'Well, Menlove then walked by me, quite cool, as if she were merely a lady passing by chance at the time, which provoked me still more, knowing the whole truth of it, and I could not help turning upon her and saying, "You, madam, ought to be served the same way." She replied in very haughty words, and I walked away, saying that I had something better to do than argue with a woman of her character at that hour of the evening. This so set her up that she followed me home, marched into my pantry, and told me that if I had been more careful about my manners in calling her a bad character, it might have been better both for me and my stuck-up daughter--a daw in eagle's plumes--and so on. Now it seems that she must have coaxed something out of Joey about you--for what lad in the world could be a match for a woman of her experience and arts! I hope she will do you no serious damage; but I tell you the whole state of affairs exactly as they are, that you may form your own opinions. After all, there is no
real disgrace, for none of us have ever done wrong, but have worked honestly for a living. However, I will let you know if anything serious really happens.'
This was all that her father said on the matter, the letter concludingwith messages to the children and directions from their mother withregard to their clothes.
Ethelberta felt very distinctly that she was in a strait; the oldimpression that, unless her position were secured soon, it never would besecured, returned with great force. A doubt whether it was worthsecuring would have been very strong ere this, had not others besidesherself been concerned in her fortunes. She looked up from her letter,and beheld the pertinacious yacht; it led her up to a conviction thattherein lay a means and an opportunity.
Nothing further of importance occurred in crossing. Ethelberta's headached after a while, and Cornelia's healthy cheeks of red were found tohave diminished their colour to the size of a wafer and the quality of astain. The Speedwell entered the breakwater at Cherbourg to find theschooner already in the roadstead; and by the time the steamer wasbrought up Ethelberta could see the men on board the yacht clewing up andmaking things snug in a way from which she inferred that they were notgoing to leave the harbour again that day. With the aspect of a fairgalleon that could easily out-manoeuvre her persevering buccaneer,Ethelberta passed alongside. Could it be possible that Lord Mountclerehad on her account fixed this day for his visit across the Channel?
'Well, I would rather be haunted by him than by Mr. Neigh,' she said; andbegan laying her plans so as to guard against inconvenient surprises.
The next morning Ethelberta was at the railway station, taking ticketsfor herself and Cornelia, when she saw an old yet sly and somewhat merry-faced Englishman a little way off. He was attended by a younger man, whoappeared to be his valet.
'I will exchange one of these tickets,' she said to the clerk, and havingdone so she went to Cornelia to inform her that it would after all beadvisable for them to travel separate, adding, 'Lord Mountclere is in thestation, and I think he is going on by our train. Remember, you are mymaid again now. Is not that the gentlemanly man who assisted youyesterday?' She signified the valet as she spoke.
'It is,' said Cornelia.
When the passengers were taking their seats, and Ethelberta was thinkingwhether she might not after all enter a second-class with Corneliainstead of sitting solitary in a first because of an old man's proximity,she heard a shuffling at her elbow, and the next moment found that he wasovertly observing her as if he had not done so in secret at all. She atonce gave him an unsurprised gesture of recognition. 'I saw you sometime ago; what a singular coincidence,' she said.
'A charming one,' said Lord Mountclere, smiling a half-minute smile, andmaking as if he would take his hat off and would not quite. 'Perhaps wemust not call it coincidence entirely,' he continued; 'my journey, whichI have contemplated for some time, was not fixed this week altogetherwithout a thought of your presence on the road--hee-hee! Do you go farto-day?'
'As far as Caen,' said Ethelberta.
'Ah! That's the end of my day's journey, too,' said Lord Mountclere.They parted and took their respective places, Lord Mountclere choosing acompartment next to the one Ethelberta was entering, and not, as she hadexpected, attempting to join her.
Now she had instantly fancied when the viscount was speaking that therewere signs of some departure from his former respectful manner towardsher; and an enigma lay in that. At their earlier meetings he had neverventured upon a distinct coupling of himself and herself as he had donein his broad compliment to-day--if compliment it could be called. Shewas not sure that he did not exceed his license in telling herdeliberately that he had meant to hover near her in a private journeywhich she was taking without reference to him. She did not object to theact, but to the avowal of the act; and, being as sensitive as a barometeron signs affecting her social condition, it darted upon Ethelberta forone little moment that he might possibly have heard a word or two abouther being nothing more nor less than one of a tribe of thralls; hence hisfreedom of manner. Certainly a plain remark of that sort was exactlywhat a susceptible peer might be supposed to say to a pretty woman of farinferior degree. A rapid redness filled her face at the thought that hemight have smiled upon her as upon a domestic whom he was disposed tochuck under the chin. 'But no,' she said. 'He would never have takenthe trouble to follow and meet with me had he learnt to think me otherthan a lady. It is extremity of devotion--that's all.'
It was not Ethelberta's inexperience, but that her conception of selfprecluded such an association of ideas, which led her to dismiss thesurmise that his attendance could be inspired by a motive beyond that ofpaying her legitimate attentions as a co-ordinate with him and his in thesocial field. Even if he only meant flirtation, she read it as of thatsort from which courtship with an eye to matrimony differs only indegree. Hence, she thought, his interest in her was not likely, underthe ordinary influences of caste feeling, to continue longer than whilehe was kept in ignorance of her consanguinity with a stock proscribed.She sighed at the anticipated close of her full-feathered towering whenher ties and bonds should be uncovered. She might have seen matters in adifferent light, and sighed more. But in the stir of the moment itescaped her thought that ignorance of her position, and a consequentregard for her as a woman of good standing, would have prevented hisindulgence in any course which was open to the construction of beingdisrespectful.
Valognes, Carentan, Isigny, Bayeux, were passed, and the train drew up atCaen. Ethelberta's intention had been to stay here for one night, buthaving learnt from Lord Mountclere, as previously described, that thiswas his destination, she decided to go on. On turning towards thecarriage after a few minutes of promenading at the Caen station, she wassurprised to perceive that Lord Mountclere, who had alighted as if toleave, was still there.
They spoke again to each other. 'I find I have to go further,' hesuddenly said, when she had chatted with him a little time. Andbeckoning to the man who was attending to his baggage, he directed thethings to be again placed in the train.
Time passed, and they changed at the next junction. When Ethelbertaentered a carriage on the branch line to take her seat for the remainderof the journey, there sat the viscount in the same division. Heexplained that he was going to Rouen.
Ethelberta came to a quick resolution. Her audacity, like that of achild getting nearer and nearer a parent's side, became wonderfullyvigorous as she approached her destination; and though there were threegood hours of travel to Rouen as yet, the heavier part of the journey waspast. At her aunt's would be a safe refuge, play what pranks she might,and there she would to-morrow meet those bravest of defenders Sol andDan, to whom she had sent as much money as she could conveniently sparetowards their expenses, with directions that they were to come by themost economical route, and meet her at the house of her aunt, MadameMoulin, previous to their educational trip to Paris, their owncontribution being the value of the week's work they would have to lose.Thus backed up by Sol and Dan, her aunt, and Cornelia, Ethelberta feltquite the reverse of a lonely female persecuted by a wicked lord in aforeign country. 'He shall pay for his weaknesses, whatever they mean,'she thought; 'and what they mean I will find out at once.'
'I am going to Paris,' she said.
'You cannot to-night, I think.'
'To-morrow, I mean.'
'I should like to go on to-morrow. Perhaps I may. So that there is achance of our meeting again.'
'Yes; but I do not leave Rouen till the afternoon. I first shall go tothe cathedral, and drive round the city.'
Lord Mountclere smiled pleasantly. There seemed a sort of encouragementin her words. Ethelberta's thoughts, however, had flown at that momentto the approaching situation at her aunt's hotel: it would be extremelyembarrassing if he should go there.
'Where do you stay, Lord Mountclere?' she said.
Thus directly asked, he could not but commit himself to the name of thehotel he had been accustomed to patroniz
e, which was one in the upperpart of the city.
'Mine is not that one,' said Ethelberta frigidly.
No further remark was made under this head, and they conversed for theremainder of the daylight on scenery and other topics, Lord Mountclere'sair of festivity lending him all the qualities of an agreeable companion.But notwithstanding her resolve, Ethelberta failed, for that day atleast, to make her mind clear upon Lord Mountclere's intentions. To thatend she would have liked first to know what were the exact limits set bysociety to conduct under present conditions, if society had ever set anyat all, which was open to question: since experience had long ago taughther that much more freedom actually prevails in the communion of thesexes than is put on paper as etiquette, or admitted in so many words ascorrect behaviour. In short, everything turned upon whether he hadlearnt of her position when off the platform at Mayfair Hall.
Wearied with these surmises, and the day's travel, she closed her eyes.And then her enamoured companion more widely opened his, and traced thebeautiful features opposite him. The arch of the brows--like a slur inmusic--the droop of the lashes, the meeting of the lips, and the sweetrotundity of the chin--one by one, and all together, they were adored,till his heart was like a retort full of spirits of wine.
It was a warm evening, and when they arrived at their journey's enddistant thunder rolled behind heavy and opaque clouds. Ethelberta badeadieu to her attentive satellite, called to Cornelia, and entered a cab;but before they reached the inn the thunder had increased. Then a cloudcracked into flame behind the iron spire of the cathedral, showing inrelief its black ribs and stanchions, as if they were the bars of ablazing cresset held on high.
'Ah, we will clamber up there to-morrow,' said Ethelberta.
A wondrous stillness pervaded the streets of the city after this, thoughit was not late; and their arrival at M. Moulin's door was quite an eventfor the quay. No rain came, as they had expected, and by the time theyhalted the western sky had cleared, so that the newly-lit lamps on thequay, and the evening glow shining over the river, inwove theirharmonious rays as the warp and woof of one lustrous tissue. Before theyhad alighted there appeared from the archway Madame Moulin in person,followed by the servants of the hotel in a manner signifying that theydid not receive a visitor once a fortnight, though at that moment theclatter of sixty knives, forks, and tongues was audible through an openwindow from the adjoining dining-room, to the great interest of a groupof idlers outside. Ethelberta had not seen her aunt since she lastpassed through the town with Lady Petherwin, who then told her that thislandlady was the only respectable relative she seemed to have in theworld.
Aunt Charlotte's face was an English outline filled in with French shadesunder the eyes, on the brows, and round the mouth, by the natural effectof years; she resembled the British hostess as little as well could be,no point in her causing the slightest suggestion of drops taken for thestomach's sake. Telling the two young women she would gladly have metthem at the station had she known the hour of their arrival, she kissedthem both without much apparent notice of a difference in theirconditions; indeed, seeming rather to incline to Cornelia, whose countryface and homely style of clothing may have been more to her mind thanEthelberta's finished travelling-dress, a class of article to which sheappeared to be well accustomed. Her husband was at this time at the headof the table-d'hote, and mentioning the fact as an excuse for his non-appearance, she accompanied them upstairs.
After the strain of keeping up smiles with Lord Mountclere, the rattleand shaking, and the general excitements of the chase across the waterand along the rail, a face in which she saw a dim reflex of her mother'swas soothing in the extreme, and Ethelberta went up to the staircase witha feeling of expansive thankfulness. Cornelia paused to admire the cleancourt and the small caged birds sleeping on their perches, the boxes ofveronica in bloom, of oleander, and of tamarisk, which freshened the airof the court and lent a romance to the lamplight, the cooks in theirpaper caps and white blouses appearing at odd moments from an Avernusbehind; while the prompt 'v'la!' of teetotums in mob caps, spinning downthe staircase in answer to the periodic clang of bells, filled her withwonder, and pricked her conscience with thoughts of how seldom suchtranscendent nimbleness was attempted by herself in a part so nearlysimilar.