CHAPTER XVI
HIS LORDSHIP'S INTENTIONS
In the morning the newly laid out gardens were the resort--afterprayers, the pump room, the pastry cook, the bookseller, and thedraper--of all the ladies and of many of the men--those, indeed, whopreferred the pleasures of society and the discourse of the ladies, tothe dull talk of the Cambridge fellows and the canons of Ely in thecoffee house, or the noisy disputes and the wagers of the tavern, orthe sport of the cockpit. The gardens became the haunt of scandal andof gossip; here a thousand stories were invented; here characters weretaken away and reputations dragged in the mud; the ladies in theirmorning dress walked about under the trees and in the alleys,diverting themselves as best they could. At eleven the music played inthe gallery outside the long room. On some days a public breakfast wasoffered; on other days there was a lottery or raffle, in whicheverybody took a huge interest. Sometimes the company were content towalk or sit under the trees, talking; sometimes there was singing inthe long room; or perhaps the Rev. Mr. Purdon would read aloud to asmall circle from some book of verse or of romance; or there wereparties made up for voyages up the river; or a play was bespoke by thegeneral consent. In a word, it was the resort of a multitude who hadnothing to do but to divert themselves; they were full of scandalabout each other; a young fellow could not squeeze a girl's hand butit was whispered all over the place that he had run away with her; andthough one would think, to hear them, that every woman of the companywas ready to tear to pieces every other woman, yet they assumed sopretty a disguise, and professed so much interest and affection andfriendship for each other, that one was inclined to believe thescandal and gossip to be a pretence or masque to hide their truefeelings.
It was natural that in walking about the gardens the people shoulddivide themselves into parties of two, or three, or more. But in themorning, after Molly's first appearance, these parties consisted ofgroups, each of half a dozen and more, talking about last night'sunexpected apparition of a woman more finely dressed than any of them,with jewels and gold chains which made the hearts of all who beheld tosink with envy. "The men, they say, admired her face. Lord Fylingdalehimself, they say, toasted her by name as an heiress. What kind ofheiress can she be? And there was a quarrel about her over the punch.Tom Rising poured the whole of the punch bowl upon the head of agentleman said to be his lordship's secretary. This morning they metoutside the walls. The gentleman is run through the body and cannotlive. No, through the shoulder and will recover. I heard that it wasin the arm, and that he will be well again in a week. But theheiress--who is the heiress?" And so they went on. You may be surethat Sam Semple found it prudent to keep out of the way. There was,therefore, no one to tell these curious ladies who the heiress was, orwhat her fortune might be. Mostly they inclined to the belief that athousand pounds would cover the whole of her inheritance, and thatLord Fylingdale meant no more than an act of politeness to the town,which certainly had done its best to entertain the company. And so on.
Presently there appeared, walking side by side, Lord Fylingdalehimself and Lady Anastasia. He carried his hat under his arm, and hiscane dangled from his right wrist; his face was as cold and as devoidof emotion as when the night before he had rebuked the company.
They passed along under the trees, conversing. When they passed or metany others they lowered their voices. Their conversation--I will tellyou in due course how I learned it--was important and serious. It wasof greater importance to Molly and to me, had I known it, than onecould imagine or suspect. And this was, in effect, the substance oftheir discourse.
"I know," she said, "that you have some design in coming to Lynn, andthat you intend me to assist you. Otherwise, why should you drag mehere, over vile roads, to a low lodging, in the company of fox huntersand their ladies? Otherwise, indeed, why should you come hereyourself?"
"The healing waters of the spa," he suggested gravely.
"You have nothing the matter with you. Nothing ever hurts you. Ifother men drink and rake all night they show it in their faces andtheir swollen bodies. But you--why you look as if you lived like asaint or a hermit in a cell."
"Yet--to prevent disease--to anticipate, so to speak."
"Ludovick, you have no longer any confidence in me. You tell me tocome here--I come. You order me to set up a bank here every night. Ihave done so. What has happened? Sir Harry and the colonel lose andwin with each other and with me. You look in and throw away fiftyguineas with your lofty air as if they mattered nothing. These countrybumpkins look on and wonder. They are lost in admiration at a man whocan lose fifty guineas without so much as a word or a gesture. Andthen they put down--a simple guinea. To please you, Ludovick, I havebecome a guinea hunter. And I am standing at great expense, and I amlosing the profits of my London bank."
"The change of air will do you good, Anastasia. You were looking palein town. Besides, there were too many rumours afloat."
"If I had your confidence, I should not care for anything. I amwilling to be your servant, Ludovick, your tool. I endure the coloneland I tolerate Sir Harry, with his nauseous old compliments. For yoursake I suffer them to bring discredit on my name and my play. But I donot consent to be your slave."
"My mistress, not my servant," he murmured, touching her fingers.
She laughed scornfully. "Will you tell me, then, if you wish me to doanything more for you? Am I to continue picking up the guineas ofthese hard-fisted rustics? Am I to figure in their stupid minuets,whenever they have their assembly? How long am I to stay here?"
"You ask too many questions, Anastasia. Still, to show you that Iplace confidence in you, although you mistrust me, I will answer someof them. Of course it is no news to you that I have at this moment norents--nothing to receive and nothing to sell."
"I have known that for two years. You best know how you continue tokeep up your establishment."
"Partly by the help of your table, dear Anastasia. I am notungrateful, believe me." Again he touched her fingers, and again shedrew herself away.
"You have remarked upon the danger of having the colonel and old SirHarry about you. Both are a good deal blown upon. I would not sufferthem to be with you again at Bath or Tunbridge Wells. In this placethey are safe. Both of them will encourage the play and set an exampleof high play and great winnings. One of them will also be ready tochallenge any who refuses to pay. The colonel has his uses. As forHarry, he is useful to me in other ways. Like his reverence."
"The odious, vile, crawling worm!"
"Quite so. Sir Harry and the Reverend Mr. Purdon are useful inassuring the world of my own virtuous character."
"Why do you want to appear virtuous? You, whose character isnotorious."
"I have my reasons. Anastasia, I will place my whole confidence inyou. Perhaps you saw at the assembly the other night a certainbourgeoise--a citizen's daughter--a girl dressed in the clothes of thefashion, her face as red as her hands----"
"I saw a very remarkable woman, Ludovick--her face and her figure fineenough to make her fortune. She was covered with jewels, which theytold me were false."
"They told you wrongly, Anastasia. They are real--diamonds, pearls,rubies, gold chains and all--real. The girl is a great heiress. Thepeople here do not know how great, or the whole country would be onbended knees before the goddess. But I know. And on her account--lookyou--on her account am I here."
The Lady Anastasia changed her manner suddenly. She glanced at hisface. It was impassive; it showed no sign of any emotion at all.
"Well? What is this heiress to me? Can I get her diamonds?"
"I want you to become her friend, Anastasia. I desire this favour verygreatly."
The Lady Anastasia stopped suddenly. She lowered her face; her cheekflushed; her lip trembled. "Ludovick," she said, "I am a woman afterall. You may command me in anything--anything else. But not in this.If you insist upon this, I will go home at once."
He looked surprised. "Why?" he began. "Surely my Anastasia is notjealous--not jealous, after all the proofs that I
have given her offidelity?"
"Jealous?" she repeated. "What have you to do with the girl, then?"
"JEALOUS?" SHE REPEATED. "WHAT HAVE YOU TO DO WITH THEGIRL, THEN?"]
"My dear mistress, I care nothing about the girl, or about any womanin the world, except one. Who should know this except the one herself?It is the girl's fortune that I want--not the girl herself."
"How will you get it without the girl?"
"That is the very point I am considering. I came here in order to getthis fortune. My secretary--the fellow Semple--told me of the girl. Isent you here in order to help me to secure this fortune. I sent hisreverence here--the colonel--Sir Harry--all of them--here with thesame object, which they must not know. I came here. I have made afriend of the girl's guardian."
"If this is true----"
"Of course, it is true," he replied coldly. "Let me go on. You shallnot charge me again with want of confidence. The guardian is a simpleold sailor. He is a fool, of course, being a sailor. He thinks tomarry his ward to a man of rank."
"Yourself, perhaps?"
"Perhaps. He also believes in the virtue and piety which my friendshere have ascribed to me."
"How will you get the fortune without the girl?"
"I tell you again--there is the difficulty. Anastasia, if you haveever promised to assist me, give me your assistance now. I must winthe confidence of the old man and the girl. Everybody must speak wellof me. I will learn how the money is placed and where. I will getpossession of it somehow."
"And then--when you have it?"
"My difficulties will be at an end. I shall leave the town and thegaming table and everything. You will come with me, Anastasia." Thistime he took her hand. "We will be Alexis and Amaryllis, the shepherdStrephon and the maiden Daphne. My Anastasia, believe me, I am tiredof the world and its noisy pleasures. I sigh for rest and repose."
"And the girl?"
"She will do better without this huge fortune. Ye gods! to give such agirl--this sailor wench--this red and pink bourgeoise--the fortunethat should have been yours, Anastasia! 'Tis monstrous! It cuts heroff from her own people. She would do better to marry the young sailorfellow who stumbled and rolled through the minuet with her, thinkinghe was on his deck rolling in the bay of Biscay. I will set thismatter right. I will relieve her of her fortune and throw her intothose arms which reek of pitch and tar and rope. Happy girl!"
The Lady Anastasia sighed. "There will never be any rest--or anyrepose--or any happiness for you or for me. Have it your own way. Iwill make the girl my friend. I will tell her that you are the best ofmen and the most virtuous. Yes," she laughed a little, but notmirthfully, "the most virtuous. And now, I think, you may walk with methrough their narrow lanes with a bridge and a stream for every one,to the small and dirty cabin where my maid makes shift to dress meevery day, so that I may turn out decent at least."