CHAPTER III.
ALTHOUGH the events that I am now relating happened many years ago, Ishall still, for caution's sake, avoid mentioning by name the variousplaces visited by Mr. Dark and myself for the purpose of makinginquiries. It will be enough if I describe generally what we did, and ifI mention in substance only the result at which we ultimately arrived.
On reaching Glasgow, Mr. Dark turned the whole case over in his mindonce more. The result was that he altered his original intention ofgoing straight to the north of Scotland, considering it safer to makesure, if possible, of the course the yacht had taken in her cruise alongthe western coast.
The carrying out of this new resolution involved the necessity ofdelaying our onward journey by perpetually diverging from the directroad. Three times we were sent uselessly to wild places in the Hebridesby false reports. Twice we wandered away inland, following gentlemen whoanswered generally to the description of Mr. James Smith, but who turnedout to be the wrong men as soon as we set eyes on them. These vainexcursions--especially the three to the western islands--consumed timeterribly. It was more than two months from the day when we had leftDarrock Hall before we found ourselves up at the very top of Scotland atlast, driving into a considerable sea-side town, with a harbor attachedto it. Thus far our journey had led to no results, and I began todespair of success. As for Mr. Dark, he never got to the end of hissweet temper and his wonderful patience.
"You don't know how to wait, William," was his constant remark wheneverhe heard me complaining. "I do."
We drove into the town toward evening in a modest little gig, and putup, according to our usual custom, at one of the inferior inns.
"We must begin at the bottom," Mr. Dark used to say. "High company in acoffee-room won't be familiar with us; low company in a tap-room will."And he certainly proved the truth of his own words. The like of him formaking intimate friends of total strangers at the shortest notice I havenever met with before or since. Cautious as the Scotch are, Mr. Darkseemed to have the knack of twisting them round his finger as hepleased. He varied his way artfully with different men, but there werethree standing opinions of his which he made a point of expressing inall varieties of company while we were in Scotland. In the first place,he thought the view of Edinburgh from Arthur's Seat the finest inthe world. In the second place, he considered whisky to be the mostwholesome spirit in the world. In the third place, he believed his latebeloved mother to be the best woman in the world. It may be worthyof note that, whenever he expressed this last opinion in Scotland, heinvariably added that her maiden name was Macleod.
Well, we put up at a modest little inn near the harbor. I was dead tiredwith the journey, and lay down on my bed to get some rest. Mr. Dark,whom nothing ever fatigued, left me to take his toddy and pipe among thecompany in the taproom.
I don't know how long I had been asleep when I was roused by a shake onmy shoulder. The room was pitch dark, and I felt a hand suddenly clappedover my mouth. Then a strong smell of whisky and tobacco saluted mynostrils, and a whisper stole into my ear--
"William, we have got to the end of our journey."
"Mr. Dark," I stammered out, "is that you? What, in Heaven's name, doyou mean?"
"The yacht put in here," was the answer, still in a whisper, "and yourblackguard of a master came ashore--"
"Oh, Mr. Dark," I broke in, "don't tell me that the letter is true!"
"Every word of it," says he. "He was married here, and was off again tothe Mediterranean with Number Two a good three weeks before we left yourmistress's house. Hush! don't say a word, Go to sleep again, or strikea light, if you like it better. Do anything but come downstairs withme. I'm going to find out all the particulars without seeming to want toknow one of them. Yours is a very good-looking face, William, but it'sso infernally honest that I can't trust it in the tap-room. I'm makingfriends with the Scotchmen already. They know my opinion of Arthur'sSeat; they _see_ what I think of whisky; and I rather think it won't belong before they hear that my mother's maiden name was Macleod."
With those words he slipped out of the room, and left me, as he hadfound me, in the dark.
I was far too much agitated by what I had heard to think of going tosleep again, so I struck a light, and tried to amuse myself as well as Icould with an old newspaper that had been stuffed into my carpet bag.It was then nearly ten o'clock. Two hours later, when the house shut up,Mr. Dark came back to me again in high spirits.
"I have got the whole case here," says he, tapping his forehead--"thewhole case, as neat and clean as if it was drawn in a brief. That masterof yours doesn't stick at a trifle, William. It's my opinion that yourmistress and you have not seen the last of him yet."
We were sleeping that night in a double-bedded room. As soon as Mr. Darkhad secured the door and disposed himself comfortably in his bed, heentered on a detailed narrative of the particulars communicated to himin the tap-room. The substance of what he told me may be related asfollows:
The yacht had had a wonderful run all the way to Cape Wrath. On roundingthat headland she had met the wind nearly dead against her, and hadbeaten every inch of the way to the sea-port town, where she had put into get a supply of provisions, and to wait for a change in the wind.
Mr. James Smith had gone ashore to look about him, and to see whetherthe principal hotel was the sort of house at which he would like tostop for a few days. In the course of his wandering about the town, hisattention had been attracted to a decent house, where lodgings were tobe let, by the sight of a very pretty girl sitting at work at the parlorwindow. He was so struck by her face that he came back twice to lookat it, determining, the second time, to try if he could not makeacquaintance with her by asking to see the lodgings. He was shown therooms by the girl's mother, a very respectable woman, whom he discoveredto be the wife of the master and part owner of a small coasting vessel,then away at sea. With a little maneuvering he managed to get into theparlor where the daughter was at work, and to exchange a few words withher. Her voice and manner completed the attraction of her face. Mr.James Smith decided, in his headlong way, that he was violently in lovewith her, and, without hesitating another instant, he took the lodgingson the spot for a month certain.
It is unnecessary to say that his designs on the girl were of the mostdisgraceful kind, and that he represented himself to the mother anddaughter as a single man. Helped by his advantages of money, position,and personal appearance, he had made sure that the ruin of the girlmight be effected with very little difficulty; but he soon found that hehad undertaken no easy conquest.
The mother's watchfulness never slept, and the daughter's presence ofmind never failed her. She admired Mr. James Smith's tall figure andsplendid whiskers; she showed the most encouraging partiality for hissociety; she smiled at his compliments, and blushed whenever he lookedat her; but, whether it was cunning or whether it was innocence, sheseemed incapable of understanding that his advances toward her were ofany other than an honorable kind. At the slightest approach to unduefamiliarity, she drew back with a kind of contemptuous surprise in herface, which utterly perplexed Mr. James Smith. He had not calculated onthat sort of resistance, and he could not see his way to overcoming it.The weeks passed; the month for which he had taken the lodgings expired.Time had strengthened the girl's hold on him till his admiration for heramounted to downright infatuation, and he had not advanced one step yettoward the fulfillment of the vicious purpose with which he had enteredthe house.
At this time he must have made some fresh attempt on the girl's virtue,which produced: a coolness between them; for, instead of taking thelodgings for another term, he removed to his yacht, in the harbor, andslept on board for two nights.
The wind was now fair, and the stores were on board, but he gave noorders to the sailing-master to weigh anchor. On the third day, thecause of the coolness, whatever it was, appears to have been removed,and he returned to his lodgings on shore. Some of the more inquisitiveamong the townspeople observed soon afterward, when they met him in the
street, that he looked rather anxious and uneasy. The conclusion hadprobably forced itself upon his mind, by this time, that he must decideon pursuing one of two courses: either he must resolve to make thesacrifice of leaving the girl altogether, or he must commit the villainyof marrying her.
Scoundrel as he was, he hesitated at encountering the risk--perhaps,also, at being guilty of the crime--involved in this last alternative.While he was still in doubt, the father's coasting vessel sailed intothe harbor, and the father's presence on the scene decided him at last.How this new influence acted it was impossible to find out from theimperfect evidence of persons who were not admitted to the familycouncils. The fact, however, was certain that the date of the father'sreturn and the date of Mr. James Smith's first wicked resolution tomarry the girl might both be fixed, as nearly as possible, at one andthe same time.
Having once made up his mind to the commission of the crime, heproceeded with all possible coolness and cunning to provide against thechances of detection.
Returning on board his yacht he announced that he had given up hisintention of cruising to Sweden and that he intended to amuse himself bya long fishing tour in Scotland. After this explanation, he ordered thevessel to be laid up in the harbor, gave the sailing-master leave ofabsence to return to his family at Cowes, and paid off the whole ofthe crew from the mate to the cabin-boy. By these means he clearedthe scene, at one blow, of the only people in the town who knew of theexistence of his unhappy wife. After that the news of his approachingmarriage might be made public without risk of discovery, his own commonname being of itself a sufficient protection in case the event wasmentioned in the Scotch newspapers. All his friends, even his wifeherself, might read a report of the marriage of Mr. James Smith withouthaving the slightest suspicion of who the bridegroom really was.
A fortnight after the paying off of the crew he was married to themerchant-captain's daughter. The father of the girl was well known amonghis fellow-townsmen as a selfish, grasping man, who was too anxious tosecure a rich son-in-law to object to any proposals for hastening themarriage. He and his wife, and a few intimate relations had been presentat the ceremony; and after it had been performed the newly-marriedcouple left the town at once for a honeymoon trip to the Highland lakes.
Two days later, however, they unexpectedly returned, announcing acomplete change in their plans. The bridegroom (thinking, probably,that he would be safer out of England than in it) had been pleasingthe bride's fancy by his descriptions of the climate and the scenery ofsouthern parts. The new Mrs. James Smith was all curiosity to see Spainand Italy; and, having often proved herself an excellent sailor onboard her father's vessel, was anxious to go to the Mediterranean in theeasiest way by sea. Her affectionate husband, having now no other objectin life than to gratify her wishes, had given up the Highland excursion,and had returned to have his yacht got ready for sea immediately. Inthis explanation there was nothing to awaken the suspicions of thelady's parents. The mother thought Mr. James Smith a model amongbridegrooms. The father lent his assistance to man the yacht at theshortest notice with as smart a crew as could be picked up about thetown. Principally through his exertions, the vessel was got ready forsea with extraordinary dispatch. The sails were bent, the provisionswere put on board, and Mr. James Smith sailed for the Mediterranean withthe unfortunate woman who believed herself to be his wife, before Mr.Dark and myself set forth to look after him from Darrock Hall.
Such was the true account of my master's infamous conduct in Scotlandas it was related to me. On concluding, Mr. Dark hinted that he hadsomething still left to tell me, but declared that he was too sleepy totalk any more that night. As soon as we were awake the next morning hereturned to the subject.
"I didn't finish all I had to say last night, did I?" he began.
"You unfortunately told me enough, and more than enough, to prove thetruth of the statement in the anonymous letter," I answered.
"Yes," says Mr. Dark, "but did I tell you who wrote the anonymousletter?"
"You don't mean to say that you have found that out!" says I.
"I think I have," was the cool answer. "When I heard about your preciousmaster paying off the regular crew of the yacht I put the circumstanceby in my mind, to be brought out again and sifted a little as soon asthe opportunity offered. It offered in about half an hour. Says I to thegauger, who was the principal talker in the room: 'How about thosemen that Mr. Smith paid off? Did they all go as soon as they got theirmoney, or did they stop here till they had spent every farthing of it inthe public-houses?' The gauger laughs. 'No such luck,' says he, in thebroadest possible Scotch (which I translate into English, William, foryour benefit); 'no such luck; they all went south, to spend their moneyamong finer people than us--all, that is to say, with one exception. Itwas thought the steward of the yacht had gone along with the rest, when,the very day Mr. Smith sailed for the Mediterranean, who should turn upunexpectedly but the steward himself! Where he had been hiding, and whyhe had been hiding, nobody could tell.' 'Perhaps he had been imitatinghis master, and looking out for a wife,' says I. 'Likely enough,' saysthe gauger; 'he gave a very confused account of himself, and he cut allquestions short by going away south in a violent hurry.' That was enoughfor me: I let the subject drop. Clear as daylight, isn't it, William?The steward suspected something wrong--the steward waited andwatched--the steward wrote that anonymous letter to your mistress. Wecan find him, if we want him, by inquiring at Cowes; and we can sendto the church for legal evidence of the marriage as soon as we areinstructed to do so. All that we have got to do now is to go backto your mistress, and see what course she means to take under thecircumstances. It's a pretty case, William, so far--an uncommonly prettycase, as it stands at present."
We returned to Darrock Hall as fast as coaches and post-horses couldcarry us.
Having from the first believed that the statement in the anonymousletter was true, my mistress received the bad news we brought calmlyand resignedly--so far, at least, as outward appearances went. Sheastonished and disappointed Mr. Dark by declining to act in any way onthe information that he had collected for her, and by insisting that thewhole affair should still be buried in the profoundest secrecy. For thefirst time since I had known my traveling companion, he became depressedin spirits on hearing that nothing more was to be done, and, although heleft the Hall with a handsome present, he left it discontentedly.
"Such a pretty case, William," says he, quite sorrowfully, as we shookhands--"such an uncommonly pretty case--it's a thousand pities to stopit, in this way, before it's half over!"
"You don't know what a proud lady and what a delicate lady my mistressis," I answered. "She would die rather than expose her forlorn situationin a public court for the sake of punishing her husband."
"Bless your simple heart!" says Mr. Dark, "do you really think, now,that such a case as this can be hushed up?"
"Why not," I asked, "if we all keep the secret?"
"That for the secret!" cries Mr. Dark, snapping his fingers. "Yourmaster will let the cat out of the bag, if nobody else does."
"My master!" I repeated, in amazement.
"Yes, your master!" says Mr. Dark. "I have had some experience in mytime, and I say you have not seen the last of him yet. Mark my words,William, Mr. James Smith will come back."
With that prophecy, Mr. Dark fretfully treated himself to a last pinchof snuff, and departed in dudgeon on his journey back to his master inLondon. His last words hung heavily on my mind for days after he hadgone. It was some weeks before I got over a habit of starting wheneverthe bell was rung at the front door.