XXII
Lady Constantine flung down the old-fashioned lacework, whose beautiesshe had been pointing out to Swithin, and exclaimed, 'Who can it be? NotLouis, surely?'
They listened. An arrival was such a phenomenon at this unfrequentedmansion, and particularly a late arrival, that no servant was on thealert to respond to the call; and the visitor rang again, more loudlythan before. Sounds of the tardy opening and shutting of a passage-doorfrom the kitchen quarter then reached their ears, and Viviette went intothe corridor to hearken more attentively. In a few minutes she returnedto the wardrobe-room in which she had left Swithin.
'Yes; it is my brother!' she said with difficult composure. 'I justcaught his voice. He has no doubt come back from Paris to stay. This isa rather vexatious, indolent way he has, never to write to prepare me!'
'I can easily go away,' said Swithin.
By this time, however, her brother had been shown into the house, and thefootsteps of the page were audible, coming in search of Lady Constantine.
'If you will wait there a moment,' she said, directing St. Cleeve into abedchamber which adjoined; 'you will be quite safe from interruption, andI will quickly come back.' Taking the light she left him.
Swithin waited in darkness. Not more than ten minutes had passed when awhisper in her voice came through the keyhole. He opened the door.
'Yes; he is come to stay!' she said. 'He is at supper now.'
'Very well; don't be flurried, dearest. Shall I stay too, as weplanned?'
'O, Swithin, I fear not!' she replied anxiously. 'You see how it is. To-night we have broken the arrangement that you should never come here; andthis is the result. Will it offend you if--I ask you to leave?'
'Not in the least. Upon the whole, I prefer the comfort of my littlecabin and homestead to the gauntness and alarms of this place.'
'There, now, I fear you are offended!' she said, a tear collecting in hereye. 'I wish I was going back with you to the cabin! How happy we were,those three days of our stay there! But it is better, perhaps, just now,that you should leave me. Yes, these rooms are oppressive. They requirea large household to make them cheerful. . . . Yet, Swithin,' she added,after reflection, 'I will not request you to go. Do as you think best. Iwill light a night-light, and leave you here to consider. For myself, Imust go downstairs to my brother at once, or he'll wonder what I amdoing.'
She kindled the little light, and again retreated, closing the door uponhim.
Swithin stood and waited some time; till he considered that upon thewhole it would be preferable to leave. With this intention he emergedand went softly along the dark passage towards the extreme end, wherethere was a little crooked staircase that would conduct him down to adisused side door. Descending this stair he duly arrived at the otherside of the house, facing the quarter whence the wind blew, and here hewas surprised to catch the noise of rain beating against the windows. Itwas a state of weather which fully accounted for the visitor's impatientringing.
St. Cleeve was in a minor kind of dilemma. The rain reminded him thathis hat and great-coat had been left downstairs, in the front part of thehouse; and though he might have gone home without either in ordinaryweather it was not a pleasant feat in the pelting winter rain. Retracinghis steps to Viviette's room he took the light, and opened a closet-doorthat he had seen ajar on his way down. Within the closet hung variousarticles of apparel, upholstery lumber of all kinds filling the backpart. Swithin thought he might find here a cloak of hers to throw roundhim, but finally took down from a peg a more suitable garment, the onlyone of the sort that was there. It was an old moth-eaten great-coat,heavily trimmed with fur; and in removing it a companion cap of sealskinwas disclosed.
'Whose can they be?' he thought, and a gloomy answer suggested itself.'Pooh,' he then said (summoning the scientific side of his nature),'matter is matter, and mental association only a delusion.' Putting onthe garments he returned the light to Lady Constantine's bedroom, andagain prepared to depart as before.
Scarcely, however, had he regained the corridor a second time, when heheard a light footstep--seemingly Viviette's--again on the front landing.Wondering what she wanted with him further he waited, taking theprecaution to step into the closet till sure it was she.
The figure came onward, bent to the keyhole of the bedroom door, andwhispered (supposing him still inside), 'Swithin, on second thoughts Ithink you may stay with safety.'
Having no further doubt of her personality he came out with thoughtlessabruptness from the closet behind her, and looking round suddenly shebeheld his shadowy fur-clad outline. At once she raised her hands inhorror, as if to protect herself from him; she uttered a shriek, andturned shudderingly to the wall, covering her face.
Swithin would have picked her up in a moment, but by this time he couldhear footsteps rushing upstairs, in response to her cry. Inconsternation, and with a view of not compromising her, he effected hisretreat as fast as possible, reaching the bend of the corridor just asher brother Louis appeared with a light at the other extremity.
'What's the matter, for heaven's sake, Viviette?' said Louis.
'My husband!' she involuntarily exclaimed.
'What nonsense!'
'O yes, it is nonsense,' she added, with an effort. 'It was nothing.'
'But what was the cause of your cry?'
She had by this time recovered her reason and judgment. 'O, it was atrick of the imagination,' she said, with a faint laugh. 'I live so muchalone that I get superstitious--and--I thought for the moment I saw anapparition.'
'Of your late husband?'
'Yes. But it was nothing; it was the outline of the--tall clock and thechair behind. Would you mind going down, and leaving me to go into myroom for a moment?'
She entered the bedroom, and her brother went downstairs. Swithinthought it best to leave well alone, and going noiselessly out of thehouse plodded through the rain homeward. It was plain that agitations ofone sort and another had so weakened Viviette's nerves as to lay her opento every impression. That the clothes he had borrowed were some cast-offgarments of the late Sir Blount had occurred to St. Cleeve in takingthem; but in the moment of returning to her side he had forgotten this,and the shape they gave to his figure had obviously been a reminder oftoo sudden a sort for her. Musing thus he walked along as if he werestill, as before, the lonely student, dissociated from all mankind, andwith no shadow of right or interest in Welland House or its mistress.
The great-coat and cap were unpleasant companions; but Swithin havingbeen reared, or having reared himself, in the scientific school ofthought, would not give way to his sense of their weirdness. To do sowould have been treason to his own beliefs and aims.
When nearly home, at a point where his track converged on another path,there approached him from the latter a group of indistinct forms. Thetones of their speech revealed them to be Hezzy Biles, Nat Chapman, Fry,and other labourers. Swithin was about to say a word to them, tillrecollecting his disguise he deemed it advisable to hold his tongue, lesthis attire should tell a too dangerous tale as to where he had come from.By degrees they drew closer, their walk being in the same direction.
'Good-night, strainger,' said Nat.
The stranger did not reply.
All of them paced on abreast of him, and he could perceive in the gloomthat their faces were turned inquiringly upon his form. Then a whisperpassed from one to another of them; then Chapman, who was the boldest,dropped immediately behind his heels, and followed there for somedistance, taking close observations of his outline, after which the mengrouped again and whispered. Thinking it best to let them pass onSwithin slackened his pace, and they went ahead of him, apparentlywithout much reluctance.
There was no doubt that they had been impressed by the clothes he wore;and having no wish to provoke similar comments from his grandmother andHannah, Swithin took the precaution, on arriving at Welland Bottom, toenter the homestead by the outhouse. Here he deposited the cap and
coatin secure hiding, afterwards going round to the front and opening thedoor in the usual way.
In the entry he met Hannah, who said--
'Only to hear what have been seed to-night, Mr. Swithin! The work-folkhave dropped in to tell us!'
In the kitchen were the men who had outstripped him on the road. Theircountenances, instead of wearing the usual knotty irregularities, had asmoothed-out expression of blank concern. Swithin's entrance wasunobtrusive and quiet, as if he had merely come down from his studyupstairs, and they only noticed him by enlarging their gaze, so as toinclude him in the audience.
'We was in a deep talk at the moment,' continued Blore, 'and Natty hadjust brought up that story about old Jeremiah Paddock's crossing the parkone night at one o'clock in the morning, and seeing Sir Blount a-shuttingmy lady out-o'-doors; and we was saying that it seemed a true return thathe should perish in a foreign land; when we happened to look up, andthere was Sir Blount a-walking along.'
'Did it overtake you, or did you overtake it?' whispered Hannahsepulchrally.
'I don't say 'twas _it_,' returned Sammy. 'God forbid that I should dragin a resurrection word about what perhaps was still solid manhood, andhas to die! But he, or it, closed in upon us, as 'twere.'
'Yes, closed in upon us!' said Haymoss.
'And I said "Good-night, strainger,"' added Chapman.
'Yes, "Good-night, strainger,"--that wez yer words, Natty. I support yein it.'
'And then he closed in upon us still more.'
'We closed in upon he, rather,' said Chapman.
'Well, well; 'tis the same thing in such matters! And the form was SirBlount's. My nostrils told me, for--there, 'a smelled. Yes, I couldsmell'n, being to leeward.'
'Lord, lord, what unwholesome scandal's this about the ghost of arespectable gentleman?' said Mrs. Martin, who had entered from thesitting-room.
'Now, wait, ma'am. I don't say 'twere a low smell, mind ye. 'Twere ahigh smell, a sort of gamey flaviour, calling to mind venison and hare,just as you'd expect of a great squire,--not like a poor man's 'natomy,at all; and that was what strengthened my faith that 'twas Sir Blount.'
('The skins that old coat was made of,' ruminated Swithin.)
'Well, well; I've not held out against the figure o' starvation thesefive-and-twenty year, on nine shillings a week, to be afeard of a walkingvapour, sweet or savoury,' said Hezzy. 'So here's home-along.'
'Bide a bit longer, and I'm going too,' continued Fry. 'Well, when Ifound 'twas Sir Blount my spet dried up within my mouth; for neitherhedge nor bush were there for refuge against any foul spring 'a mighthave made at us.'
''Twas very curious; but we had likewise a-mentioned his name just afore,in talking of the confirmation that's shortly coming on,' said Hezzy.
'Is there soon to be a confirmation?'
'Yes. In this parish--the first time in Welland church for twenty years.As I say, I had told 'em that he was confirmed the same year that I wentup to have it done, as I have very good cause to mind. When we went tobe examined, the pa'son said to me, "Rehearse the articles of thybelief." Mr. Blount (as he was then) was nighest me, and he whispered,"Women and wine." "Women and wine," says I to the pa'son: and for that Iwas sent back till next confirmation, Sir Blount never owning that he wasthe rascal.'
'Confirmation was a sight different at that time,' mused Biles. 'TheBishops didn't lay it on so strong then as they do now. Now-a-days, yerBishop gies both hands to every Jack-rag and Tom-straw that drops theknee afore him; but 'twas six chaps to one blessing when we was boys. TheBishop o' that time would stretch out his palms and run his fingers overour row of crowns as off-hand as a bank gentleman telling money. Thegreat lords of the Church in them days wasn't particular to a soul or twomore or less; and, for my part, I think living was easier for 't.'
'The new Bishop, I hear, is a bachelor-man; or a widow gentleman is it?'asked Mrs. Martin.
'Bachelor, I believe, ma'am. Mr. San Cleeve, making so bold, you'venever faced him yet, I think?'
Mrs. Martin shook her head.
'No; it was a piece of neglect. I hardly know how it happened,' shesaid.
'I am going to, this time,' said Swithin, and turned the chat to othermatters.