CHAPTER XXXVI
A DAY OF FATE
This was the day when all the villainy came to a head and did itsworst and met with the first instalment of exposure. I have told youwhat was done at the church and what was our own bewilderment, notknowing what to believe or how to explain things. For my own part,though I might have guessed, because I had discovered the jealousy ofLady Anastasia; yet the truth, even the possibility of the truth,never came into my head. I had no manner of doubt, in my own mind,that it was Molly herself, and none other, whom I saw standing as abride at the altar rails with Lord Fylingdale for a bridegroom. Thefact, I say, admitted of no dispute. Yet, why should Molly change hermind? And why should she deny the fact?
I sought her at the house. I begged her to come into the garden and totalk with me privately. Then I asked those two questions. Her answerto both of them was most amazing.
"Jack," she said, "I know not what you mean. I have not changed mymind. It is impossible for me to marry a man of whom such things canbe said unless he can prove that they are false. How can you thinkthat I have changed my mind? As regards this talk about an earlywedding, what do I know about it? At six o'clock I was in the kitchenwith my mother and Nigra. I have not been out of the house at all."
Then I persisted. I asked her if she could have gone out and hadperhaps forgotten.
"Forgotten!" she repeated, scornfully. "Do you suppose that a womancould by any possibility forget her own wedding? But what is it, Jack?What is in your mind?"
Then I told her. "Molly," I said, "last night I forgot your letter.There was so much to think and talk about with these disclosures thatI forgot. This morning I remembered. Then I hurried ashore. I ran tothe 'Crown'; it was just upon six. I was too late. His lordship hadgone out in a chair. I ran to the church. It was just after six. Thedoors were open; I heard voices. I went in, Molly--do not say that Iam dreaming--I saw you--you I say--you, yourself--with your pink silkcloak, the hood pulled over your head, a domino to hide yourface--just as had been arranged."
"You saw me, Jack? You saw me? How could you see me?"
"And your hand was in Lord Fylingdale's, and Mr. Purdon waspronouncing the words which made you his wife. 'Whom God hath joinedtogether let not man put asunder.'"
She stared at me with blank amazement.
"In my pink silk cloak? Jack, are you in your right mind or is it Imyself who am gone distraught?"
"Indeed, I know not which."
"Did you speak to me? Did you congratulate the bride, Jack?"
"No; I was sick and sorry, Molly. I went out of the church. The clerk,however, has been telling the story of this private marriage all overthe town. Everybody knows it. The marriage is duly entered in theregisters. It was a marriage by the archbishop's licence. The manPurdon may be all that the vicar's letter exposed, but the marriagewas in order."
Molly said nothing for a while. Then she said gently: "The letter fromthe bookseller, your cousin, spoke of Lord Fylingdale as ruined. If hewere to marry a woman with money it would become his own."
"I believe that there are sometimes letters--bills of lading, orwhatever they are called--which gives the wife the control of her ownproperty; otherwise, everything becomes her husband's."
"Why did he wish to marry me? There was never a gleam of love in hiseye--nor a note of love in his voice. Why--except that he might get mymoney?"
"That is, I am convinced, the reason."
"Villainy--villainy--villainy. Jack, this is a conspiracy. Some womanhas been made to play my part. Then he will claim me as his wife, andlay hands upon all that I have."
"No, Molly, he shall not while you have friends."
"Friends cannot help where the law orders otherwise. So much I know,Jack. Yet you can do one thing for me, you can protect me from theman. He must not take me away."
"All Lynn will fight for you."
"Jack, I want more; I want all Lynn to believe me. You have known meall my life. Am I capable of such a change of mind? Am I capable of somonstrous a falsehood as to steal out to marry this man and then todeclare that I have never left the house? Oh, the villain! thevillain!" Her cheek was aflame; her eyes flashed.
I seized her hand. "Molly," I cried, "they shall all believe you. Iwill tell the truth everywhere."
Just then the garden door was thrown open and Sam Semple appeared.With a smiling face and a bending knee he advanced bowing low.
"Permit me to offer congratulations to the Countess of Fylingdale."
"I am not a countess. I am plain Molly Miller."
Sam looked disconcerted and puzzled. I perceived that, plot or noplot, he had no hand in it.
"I am come," he said, "from his lordship----"
"I have nothing to do with his lordship."
"Surely, madam--surely, my lady--there is some misunderstanding. I amsent by his lordship with his compliments to ask when it will beconvenient for the countess to receive him."
"You have been informed, I suppose, that I was married to him thismorning."
"Certainly, my lady."
"Then go back to Lord Fylingdale and tell him that he is a villain anda liar; that I have learned his true character; that I am not marriedto him; and that if he ventures to molest me my friends will protectme. Give him that message, sir, word for word."
"I believe, Sam," I said, for his discomfiture and bewilderment madehim reel and stagger, "that you have no hand in this new villainy. Itwas you, however, who brought that man to Lynn, knowing his truecharacter and his antecedents. Let us never see your face here again.Go; if I thought you were in this new plot I would serve you again asthe captain served you three years ago."
He went away without another word.
Then the captain came home, his face troubled.
"I know not," he said, "what has happened in this place. I have seenLord Fylingdale. I told him of the charges and accusations."
"Well? Did he deny them?"
"He denied nothing, and he admitted nothing. He says that you marriedhim this morning, Molly."
"I know. He has sent Sam Semple here with the same story. Captain, youbelieve me, do you not?"
"Believe you, Molly? Why, if I did not believe you, I should believenothing. Believe you? My dear, I would as soon doubt the prayer book."He laid his hand upon her arm and the tears came into his eyes. "Mydear, I have been an old fool. But I did it for the best. He says thatyou are his wife. Let him come and take you--if he can!"
"It is not Molly that he would take, it is Molly's fortune."
"Why, sir," she said, "if he takes the whole and wastes and dissipatesit, so long as he does not take me, what does it matter?"
Then the vicar came again, and the whole of the business had to bediscussed again. At first, he adhered to his theory of unconsciousaction, because a scholar always likes to explain every theory byexamples chosen from Latin and Greek authors. He had looked up severalmore stories of the kind from I know not what folio volumes in hislibrary, and came prepared to defend his opinion. But the absolutecertainty of Molly's assertion; the evidence of her mother, whodeclared that Molly had been working with her since half-past five;the firm belief of the captain; and my own change of opinion and thepossibility of deception shook him. Finally, he abandoned his learnedview, and adopted our more modern explanation of the case, viz, thatthe marriage was a sham, and that the woman was some creature subornedto personate Molly.
"But what woman can she be?" asked the vicar. "She can write. I haveseen the registers; she has signed in a full, round hand, without badspelling. The woman, therefore, is educated. My dear, we may perhapsfind the woman. My worthy and pious brother in Orders is mostcertainly in the conspiracy. Where there are three one is generally atraitor. To begin with, the scheme is both bold and dangerous. It isthe first step towards obtaining a large sum of money under falsepretences. Their necks are in danger, even the neck of a noble earl.
"It is inconceivable," he went on, after a little reflection, "how awoman could be found to play such a part. She mu
st be the mistress ofthe earl; no other could be trusted."
"What should be done meantime?"
"We must meet the enemy on his own ground. He spreads abroad thereport that he married Molly this morning. We must publicly and openlydeny the fact. Captain, there will be a large company at the assemblythis evening. You will take Molly there. I will go with you. Jackshall put on his Sunday best, and shall also go with us. We must beprepared for an impudent claim, and we must be ready with a promptdenial. Let us court publicity."
This was clearly the best advice possible. We were left unmolested allthe afternoon, though the captain made me stay as a kind of garrisonin case of any attempt at abduction being made.
In the evening, Molly, in her chair and dressed in her finery, wascarried to the gardens, while the captain, the vicar, and myselfformed a bodyguard.
We arrived after the dancing had begun. Lady Anastasia was looking on,but her court of ladies and young men, for some reason, seemed to havemelted away. She stood almost alone, save for the support of the oldbeau Sir Harry. The colonel was also with her. And the ReverendBenjamin Purdon stood behind her.
The music was in the gallery at the end of the long room; the dancingwas carried on in the middle. Lady Anastasia was standing on the rightof the gallery; most of the company on the left. Molly with thecaptain and followed by the vicar and myself turned to the left.
On her entrance all eyes were fixed upon the newly made countess. Shehad come without her lord. Was this part of the secret--a secret knownto all the world? Or was his lordship before the whole company aboutto lead his bride to the first place as became her newly acquiredrank? Some of the ladies regarded her with looks of hatred, thesuccessors of the looks of scorn with which they had at first welcomedher. Most of them, however, were kindly; a tale of love always meetswith a friendly reception; not a woman in the place but would havetaken her place with joy unmeasured; as no other woman could, theywere ready to accept their fate and to make friends with thesuccessful and the fortunate winner of so great a prize.
It was a great prize, indeed, if they only knew!
The minuets were over and the country dances were about to begin whenLord Fylingdale arrived, followed, as usual, by his secretary. Hestood at the door, he looked around; then, with the cold pride whichnever failed him, he stepped across the room and bowed low to Molly."Madam," he said, "with your permission, we will dance this countrydance together before I take you away with me."
"My lord," replied Molly aloud, so that the whole company heard andtrembled, "I shall not dance with you this evening, nor on any otherevening."
"She will never again dance with you, my lord; nor will she hold anydiscourse with you; nor will she willingly admit you to her presence."It was the vicar who spoke, because the man and the occasion provedtoo much for the good old captain, who could only roll thunderouslybetween his teeth things more fitted for the quelling of a mutiny thanfor dealing with such a man as his lordship.
"Pray, sir," said Lord Fylingdale, stepping back, "what is the meaningof this? Pray, madam," he turned to Molly, "what is the meaning ofthis sudden change? Captain Crowle, have I, or have I not, the rightto claim my wife?"
The vicar stepped forward and confronted him. His tall, thin figure,his long cassock, his thin and ascetic face contrasted with theover-haughtiness of his adversary.
"My lord," he asked, "how long has this lady been your wife?"
"We were married," he said, "at six o'clock this morning, by the Rev.Mr. Benjamin Purdon, who is here to bear witness to the fact. Thewedding was private at my request, because, as you may perhapsbelieve, I was not anxious to join in the wedding feast with a companyof boors, bumpkins, and sailors."
"Ladies and gentlemen,"--the vicar raised his voice and by a gesturesilenced the orchestra--"I have to lay before you a conspiracy which Ibelieve is unparalleled in any history. You are aware that LordFylingdale, who stands before you, came to the spa a few weeks ago forpurposes best known to himself. You will also doubtless remember thatcertain persons, who arrived before him, were loud in his praises. Hewas said by them to be a model of all the virtues. I will not repeatthe things that were said...."
"All this," said Lord Fylingdale, "is beside the mark. I come to claimmy wife."
"Among those who accepted these statements for gospel was CaptainCrowle, the guardian of the young lady beside me. It was to him agreat honour to be admitted to converse with so distinguished anobleman and to be permitted to consult with him as to the affairs ofhis ward. He even informed his lordship of the extent of the lady'sfortune, which is far greater than was generally understood. Thereuponhis lordship began to pay attention of a marked character. You haveall, I believe, remarked these attentions. Then came the attemptedabduction and the lady's rescue by Lord Fylingdale. After this heformally offered his hand and his rank to the lady. The honour seemedvery great. He was accepted. He then engaged the lady to undertake aprivate marriage without festivities, to which she consented. Shepromised, in fact, to be married at St. Nicholas Church this verymorning, at six o'clock."
"All this," said Lord Fylingdale, coldly, "is quite true. Yet why youdetain the company by the narrative I do not understand. The lady kepther promise. I met her at the place and time appointed. We weremarried. Once more, Captain Crowle, I claim my wife."
"Ladies and gentlemen," the vicar continued, "there is but one replyto the last statement, for the lady did not keep her engagement."
"Sir," his lordship advanced a step, "are you aware of the meaning ofwords? Do you assert that I was not married at that time and in thatplace?"
The Reverend Benjamin Purdon advanced. "Sir," he addressed the vicar,"like his lordship, I am amazed at these words. Why, sir, I myself, atsix o'clock this morning, performed the marriage service, asprescribed by the Church, for the Right Honourable the Earl ofFylingdale and Miss Mary Miller."
By this time the company were crowding round eagerly listening. No onecould understand what had happened. The bridegroom claimed his bride;the bride's friends denied that she was married.
"Yesterday," the vicar went on, "there arrived, simultaneously, threeletters; one of them, an anonymous letter, was addressed to CaptainCrowle; one from a respectable bookseller in London was addressed toMr. Pentecrosse, master of the grammar school; and one from a certainfellow of his college at Cambridge was addressed to me. All theseletters, together, contained charges which show how deeply we havebeen deceived."
"Have a care! Have a care!" said Lord Fylingdale.
At that moment another arrival took place. It was Tom Rising, thewounded man. He was pale and weak; he leaned upon the arms of twogentlemen; he was followed by a figure, strange, indeed, in a politeassembly.
"By these letters and other sources," the vicar continued, "I learnfirst as to the noble lord's friends--the following particulars. Praygive me your attention.
"I find that the Lady Anastasia Langston hath been lately presented bythe grand jury of Middlesex for keeping a house riotous, of greatextravagance, luxury, idleness, and ill fame. She is the third on thelist. The first," the vicar read from a paper, "is the Lady Mordingtonand her gaming house in Covent Garden; the second is the Lady Castleand her gaming house, also in Covent Garden; and the third is the LadyAnastasia Langston and her gaming house, in or near Hanover Square,all in this county.
"I am informed that Lady Anastasia hath held a bank every night inthis place to the hurt and loss of many.
"I turn next to the case of the Rev. Benjamin Purdon, who standsbefore you. He was the tutor of Lord Fylingdale; he is described asthe companion of his vices; he was the cause last year of a grievousscandal at Bath; he is the author of a ribald piece of verse by whichhe has corrupted many. No bishop would sanction his acceptance of thesmallest preferment."
"This is very surprising," said Mr. Purdon, shaking his big head. "Butwe shall see, we shall see, immediately."
"There are next, the two gentlemen known as Sir Harry Malyns andColonel Lanyon. Their occupation is to act as
decoy ducks; to lureyoung men to the gaming table, and to plunder them when they arecaught."
Both these gentlemen started, but neither replied.
"I now come to the noble lord before me. He is a most notoriousprofligate; he shares in Lady Anastasia's gaming house; he has longsince been refused admittance into the houses of persons of honour; heis an inveterate gambler; he has ruined his own estate--sold thefamily plate and pictures, library, everything; he is, at this moment,unable to borrow or to raise the smallest sum of money. The fleet andthe King's Bench Prisons are full of the unfortunate tradesmen whotrusted him and the young rakes whom he has ruined.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this was the story which reached us yesterday,fortunately, in time. Miss Molly broke off her promise, and wrote tohis lordship for explanations. Captain Crowle called upon his lordshipthis morning for explanations. He was met with derision; he was toldthat he was too late, the young lady was already married--there was nonecessity for any explanations."
The company murmured. Voices were raised demanding explanations.
Said his lordship, coldly, "These inventions need no reply. I claim mywife."
"She is not your wife," said the vicar. "We are ready to prove that atsix o'clock the young lady was already engaged with her mother in thestillroom, or in some other occupations. Of that there is no doubtpossible. But"--and here he lifted a warning finger, but his lordshippaid no attention--"there _was a wedding early this morning_. Hisreverence Mr. Purdon performed the service; the wedding was in thename of Mary Miller as bride; the registers are signed 'Mary Miller.'This is, therefore, a conspiracy."
"You talk nonsense," said his lordship, who certainly carried it offwith an amazing assurance. "I claim my wife. Once more, madam, willyou come with me?"
"I am not your wife."
"We must endeavour," said the vicar, "to find the woman who personatedMiss Molly. The clerk of the parish testifies to the wedding, but hedoes not appear to have seen the face of the bride. Whoever she was,she wore a domino, and had thrown her hood over her face."
The Lady Anastasia stepped forward, agitating her fan. "Reverend sir,"she said to the vicar, "in matters of society you are a very ignorantand a very simple person. It is quite true that I have been presentedby a Middlesex jury for gambling. It is also true that half Londonmight also be presented. As for the rest of your statements, that, forinstance, Lord Fylingdale shares in the profits of my bank, let meassure you that your innocence has been abused; these things are nottrue. However, it is not for me to answer public insults in a publicplace. Sir Harry, my old friend, they call you a decoy--even you, withyour name and your reputation. A decoy! Sir, your cloth should shameyou. Sir Harry, take me to my chair. If, to-morrow morning, thecompany thinks proper to dissociate itself from this public insult, Iwill remain in this place, where, I own, I have found many friends. Ifnot, I shall return to London and to the house presented by the grandjury of Middlesex."
So saying, she retired smiling, and, as they say of soldiers, in goodorder. With her, also in good order, the ancient beau, with no othersigns of agitation than a trembling of the knees--and this might verywell be laid to the account of his threescore years and fifteen, orperhaps fourscore.
At this point, however, Tom Rising, supported by his friends,advanced. "My lord," he said, "I have brought an old friend to meetyou, Jack Gizzard--Honest John--the poultry man of Bond street. Youknow him of old, I believe. The advantage of bringing him here toexpose you is that you cannot fight a poultry man."
I looked on in admiration. The affair could not be turned into aprivate quarrel, for the fellow was, indeed, no other than a dealer inpoultry by trade. Yet no better witness could be produced, for no onewas better known than Jack Gizzard--so called from his trade--at allrace meetings, at Newmarket, at Epsom, and at other places. He was, infact, that rare creature, the man who, not being a gentleman, is yetadmitted to the sports of gentlemen; is considered as an authority; isallowed to bet freely with them, yet remains what he was by birth, amechanic, a shopkeeper, a farmer, a grazier, a horse breeder, or Iknow not what.
I do not know his surname; he was called Gizzard on account of hiscalling, and Jack on account of the esteem in which he was held by allsporting men. No one knew better than Jack Gizzard how to choose, howto train, how to feed a gamecock; no one knew better the points of ahorse; no one knew better how to train a dog for coursing; no one knewmore of the secrets of the stable; no one knew more intimately therules of the prize ring, whether for quarterstaff, singlestick, orboxing. No one, again, held a better reputation for honesty in sport;he betted and he paid; he would advise a man even to his own loss.Such a man as this Tom Rising brought to the assembly for thediscomfiture of his late adversary.
"Jack," he said, "here is his lordship, and there--don't go just yet,colonel," for, at the sight of Jack Gizzard, Colonel Lanyon was aboutto leave the room. "Not just yet. Thank you, gentlemen," as two orthree placed themselves between the colonel and the door.
Jack Gizzard stepped forward. He was in appearance more like a butcherthan anything else, being a stout, hearty-looking man, with a redface.
"My lord," he said, "when you last left Newmarket Heath you owed meL500." Lord Fylingdale made no sign of any kind of response. "I metyou again at Bath; it was before the time when you were requested bythe master of the ceremonies to leave the place with your friend--ah!colonel, glad to see you--with your friend Colonel Lanyon."
Lord Fylingdale made no sign whatever of having heard.
"Bath is not very far from Gloucestershire. I made a journey there tofind out for myself your lordship's position. I found your estate inthe hands of money-lenders; every acre mortgaged; your house fallingto pieces; its contents sold. You are already completely ruined. Iwent back to London and inquired further; you had lost your credit aswell as your character. You could not show your face at the oldplaces; the cockpit of Tothill Fields was closed to you; all the clubsof St. James's were closed to you. Your name, my lord, stank then asbadly as it stinks now." Lord Fylingdale still paid no kind ofattention. "You may consider, my lord, these few remarks as partpayment of that L500." So he turned away.
"Come along, colonel," said Tom Rising. "Bring the colonel to thefront. Don't be bashful, colonel."
Some of the gentlemen obeyed, gently pushing the colonel to the front."Well, poultry man?" said the colonel boldly.
"Well, sharper?" returned Jack Gizzard. "Gentlemen, this fellow hasbeen a bully about the town for twenty years and more; a bully; acommon cheat and sharper. He is now altogether discredited. He wasexpelled from Bath with his noble patron last year. If any of you owehim money do not pay him. He is not fit to sit down with gentlemen ofhonour. That is all I have to say about you, colonel."
"What I have to say, colonel," said Tom Rising, "is that I owe youL1,200, and if I pay you one single guinea--then----" He proceeded toimprecate the wrath of heaven upon himself if he showed any weaknessin that resolution.
Lord Fylingdale once more turned to Molly.
"Madam, for the last time----"
"Send him away--send him away," said Molly. "He makes me sick."
"We deny the marriage, my lord," said the vicar. "That is all we haveto say."
"At your peril," replied his lordship. So saying he walked awayunmoved, apparently. Mr. Purdon and Colonel Lanyon went with him; bothmen were flushed in the cheeks and restrained themselves by an evidenteffort. I was sorry for Sam Semple, for he followed, his face full oftrouble and disappointment.
When they were gone, the vicar spoke once more.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "we have thought it best to court thegreatest publicity possible in this matter. The people whom we haveexposed will not again trouble this company by their presence. I knownot what the law may decide in this case, supposing his lordship soill-advised as to go to law. But the truth, which is above the law,remains, that an imposture of the most daring kind has been attempted,and that some woman has been found to personate Miss Molly. I have toexpress h
er sorrow for keeping you so long from your pleasures."
And with these words he offered his hand to Molly, and we withdrew,and the music struck up a lively country dance.