Vellenaux A Novel, Edmund William Edmund William [reading a book .TXT] 📗

Saltpetre And Glauber

Salts. This Was Her Favourite Evening Beverage,  Which,  In Her Now Heated

And Excited State Was Very Acceptable. Motioning The Woman To Place It

On The Teapoy,  Near Her Pillow,  She Was About To Give Her Further

Instructions,  When She Noticed That She Was A Stranger,  Not From Her

Features,  For They Were Concealed Beneath The Folds Of Her Sarree,  Which

Had Been Thrown Completely Over Her Head,  Revealing Only A Small Portion

Of The Lower Part Of Her Face,  But From Her General Appearance. Finding

That She Was Not Understood,  She Stretched Forth Her Hand For The Goblet

And Took A Long Draught,  Unconscious Of The Piercing Dark Eyes That

Gleamed Down Upon Her With Jealous Hatred And Fiendish Pleasure From

Behind The Silken Sarree Of Her New Attendant,  As She Took From Her Hand

The Half-Emptied Goblet,  Which,  After Placing On The Teapoy,  She

Quickly Left The Room. There Was Something Suspicious About The Action

Of The Woman,  But Lady Chutny Was Too Much Occupied With Her Own

Thoughts To Notice It At The Time,  And Soon After Sank Into A Doze From

Which She Started In affright,  As If From Some Dreadful Dream,  Only To

Fall Into Another. This Occurred Several Times. At Length,  After

Finishing The Remainder Of The Sherbet,  She Dropped Into A Deep Sleep.

 

The Sun Was High In The Heavens When She Again Awoke. A Burning Fever

Consumed Her,  And Delirium Had Fastened On Her With Fearful Spasmodic

And Excruciating Pains Internally. She Endeavored To Rise,  But Fainted

In So Doing. She Shrieked Wildly For Assistance,  But None Heeded Her

Cries. For Hours She Was Thus,  Left Alone,  The Pains Increasing,  And Her

Brain In a Constant Whirl. Again She Slept,  How Long She Knew Not. When,

On Awaking,  She Found The Same Attendant Who Had Waited On Her The

Previous Evening,  Standing At Her Bedside. She Had Brought Food,  Of

Which Her Ladyship Partook Slightly But Eagerly,  And Called For Tea,

Which Was Handed Her.

 

"Has Sir Lexicon Returned," She Enquired. The Attendant Shook Her Head.

"Send For Him Immediately,  And Likewise A Doctor. I Am In Great Agony."

The Woman Muttered Something,  And Left Her. Through The Long,  Lonely

Hours Of That Dark Night,  The Wretched Woman,  Wracked By Intense Pain,

With Insanity Steadily Gaining The Ascendency,  Tossed To And Fro On Her

Weary Bed,  And When Overtaxed Nature Did Succumb To Slumber,  Wild

Dreams,  And Wilder Fancies Haunted Her Between Sleeping And Waking. She

Fancied She Saw At Her Bedside The Forms Of Edith,  Arthur,  And Ralph

Coleman. The Latter She Denounced As A Coward And Traitor,  From Carlton

She Hid Her Face,  But To Edith She Stretched Forth Her Hand And Implored

Her To Save Her From The Torments She Was Now Enduring,  But Only Meeting

With A Scornful Laugh,  Fell Back Upon Her Pillow Exhausted.

 

This Had Not Been Quite All Fancy,  For The Three Mistresses Of The

Planter Had Stolen Into Her Chamber To Feast Their Cruel Eyes Upon The

Dying Agonies Of Their Helpless Victim. Towards The Middle Of The Fourth

Day,  Reason Had Somewhat Resumed Its Sway,  And The Violence Of The Pains

She Had Experienced Were Subdued,  The Ayah Had Arrived From The Capital

And Now Resumed Her Attendance Upon Her Mistress. She Had Sought Out The

Native Doctor Who Attended The Sick Of The Plantation. He,  Although In

The Pay Of The Three Women,  Thought It Best To Visit Lady Chutny When

Summoned.

 

"Is There No European Doctor?" Enquired The Patient,  As The Native

Practitioner Felt Her Pulse And Otherwise Examined Her.

 

"No,  Madam,  But I Will Ride To The Next Station And Endeavour To Procure

One," Replied The Crafty Little Man. Then Turning To The Ayah,  Said,  "I

Should Have Been Called In Sooner. The Sahib Must Be Sent For Without

Delay," And After Leaving A Few Instructions,  Left The Room. He Knew

That Death Must Soon Ensue,  And Was Determined To Be Absent On Sir

Lexicon'S Arrival Under The Pretence Of Doing All In His Power To

Procure European Medical Assistance. As He Passed Through The Women'S

Apartment He Said To Them,  "I Am Going For A European Doctor. Of Course,

I Shall Not Find One. You Understand? You Have Done Your Work

Completely. She Will Die At Sunset. You Had Better Send For A

Missionary Or Priest,  And Have Her Buried As Soon As Possible. Let The

Grave Be Dug Under The Palm Trees,  On The South Side Of The Plantation,

And Have All Done Decently And In Order,  And The Master Will Attach No

Blame To Any One Or Have Any Suspicion That Foul Play Has Been Used,

Then You Can Easily Persuade Him To Allow The Body To Remain There."

 

The Native Doctor Was Right. The Unhappy Woman Never Saw The Rising Of

Another Sun,  And In The White Sands,  Beneath The Waving Palms,  Where The

Hyena Prowled And The Wild Jackall Barked Hoarsely Through The Night,

Lies The Mortal Remains Of This Ambitious Woman,  Who Thus Fell A Victim

To The Jealous And Revengeful Passions Of Those By Whom She Had Been

Surrounded By Her Unscrupulous Husband.

 

The Third Day After The Ball,  Captain Snaffle Again Presented Himself At

Lady Chutny'S Bungalow,  And Was Informed That Her Ladyship Had Left

Town,  And Would,  In all Probability Be Absent Some Weeks. The

Fashionable World Was In a Great Commotion At This Unexpected Event.

They Could Not Understand It. To Leave Town At The Height Of The Season,

And Just As She Had Achieved So Great A Triumph As Her Last Ball Was

Allowed To Be,  It Was Quite Inexplicable. It Was Talked Of,  Canvassed

Over,  And Commented Upon,  At The Band Stand,  Race Course,

Conversaziones,  And Mess Room,  For Several Days,  And,  In Fact,  Until The

Mystery Was Cleared Up By A Startling _Denouement_.

 

"I Say,  Snaffle,  Old Fellow,  Who The Deuce Is She? You Know,  Or I Am

Much Mistaken. I Saw You Making Great Play,  And Coming It Rather Heavy

With Her On The Night Of The Ball. I Watched You Both For Some Time. You

Two Have Met Before Under Different Circumstances. I Wager My Chestnut

Mare Against Your Bay Colt That I Am Right. Will You Say Done?" And

Harry Racer,  Of The Fusiliers,  Here Produced His Book In Hopes Of

Entering A Bet.

 

"Not Quite So Fast Racer,  My Boy. There Is No Mystery In The Matter,  No

Subject For A Wager. We Have Met Before,  I Knew It While Talking To Her,

But Could Not Remember Where. I Recollect All Now. Whether She

Recognized Me Or Not,  I Cannot Tell. She Is A Very Clever Woman. If You

Will Say Nothing About It,  I Will Tell You All I Know."

 

"Not I! Not I," Replied Racer,  Half Despondingly At The Prospect Of

Being Able To Enter A Wager In His Betting Book Disappearing.

 

"Well Then," Continued Snaffle,  "She Was A Mrs. Fraudhurst,  A Widow

Governess And Companion To A Rich Heiress,  Niece Of Sir Jasper Coleman

Of Vellenaux In devonshire. How She Got Out Here,  And In What Way She

Managed To Hook Sir Lexicon,  I Cannot Imagine,  But I Will Find It All

Out At Our Next Interview,  Depend Upon It."

 

"Stop! By Jupiter! Did You Say Governess,  Baronet,  Name Coleman,  Place,

Vellenaux,  Devonshire? Here'S A Go! Not A Word. Here,  Ramsammy,  Bring

The Fyle Of English Newspapers From The Library,  Quick." The Papers Were

Handed To Him,  And,  Selecting _Bell'S Life_,  Harry Racer Commenced

Reading The Following Paragraph:--

 

"Frightful Railway Accident. Death Of Sir Ralph Coleman Of Vellenaux,

Devonshire. Startling Disclosures. Stolen Will. Heiress Defrauded.

Flight From The Country Of Accomplice,  The Family Governess. Full

Particulars In Our Next Issue."

 

"That'S Her,  The Planter'S Lady. Large As Life And Twice As Natural. The

Thing Is As Clear As Mud In a Wine Glass. All Plain And Smooth As A

Three Mile Course. The Mystery Is Solved. She Recognized You At The

Ball,  Saw That You Were Mystified,  But Would,  Doubtless,  Remember Her If

You Met Again. You Call The Next Morning. She Refuses To See You On The

Plea Of Indisposition. Takes The Alarm,  Bolts Off The Course,  And Makes

For The Open Country,  Where She,  Doubtless,  Intends To Remain Until She

Hears That You Are Safe On Your Road To Secunderabad; And Now,  Old

Fellow,  What Are You Going To Do? There Is Money To Be Made Out Of This

Matter If You Are Not Too Squeamish," And Here Racer Tipped A Knowing

Wink To His Friend Of The Lancers.

 

But Captain Snaffle Was A Gentleman,  And Had No Idea Of Trading Upon The

Necessities Of Others,  Be They Who They Might. He Merely Replied By

Saying:

 

"Racer,  You Will Not Mention A Word Of This To Any One At Present. I

Will Go Down To Pallamcotta And Find Out To What Extent Lady Chutny Has

Compromised Herself. After That We Can Decide What Is To Be Done About

Letting Fashionable World Into The Secret." The Two Friends Left The

Fusiliers' Mess Room,  Harry Racer Trotting Off To Inspect Some New

Horses That He Had Got Scent Of,  And Snaffle To His Own Quarters.

 

The Following Morning Saw Him On His Way To Sir Lexicon'S Plantation. On

The Road He Overtook The Baronet,  And They Rode The Remainder Of The

Distance Together. Imagine Their Consternation On Finding That Lady

Chutny Was Both Dead And Buried.

 

The Planter,  With His Usual Indolence And Procrastination,  Was For

Allowing Things To Remain As They Were. "There Is No Use," He Said,

"Now,  That The Matter Is All Over,  Of Disturbing The Body. I Will Have

A Handsome Monument Erected Over Her Remains,  And The Place Shall Be

Nicely Laid Out With Shrubs And Flowers,  And Kept In Good Order While I

Live;" But Captain Snaffle Thought Otherwise. He Felt Certain That The

Woman Had Not Been Accessory To Her Own Death,  But That Foul Play Had

Been Used By Some One And He Was Determined To Ferret It Out.

Immediately On His Return To Madras He Communicated His Suspicions To

The Police Authorities,  And Enquiries Were Instituted,  A Reward Offered,

And The Whole Affair Came To Light.

 

But It Was Not Until Several Months After This Event Transpired That Our

Friends At Vellenaux Became Aware Of The Ultimate Fate Of The

Ex-Governess. Captain Snaffle,  In a Letter To Arthur,  Gave An Account Of

The Whole Transaction,  From Which It Transpired,  That,  On Enquiries

Being Set On Foot Respecting Lady Chutny'S Sudden Death,  Gopall,  The

Butler,  Turned Queen'S Evidence,  And Confessed The Whole Of The

Diabolical Plot. Datura,  A Powerful Narcotic Poison,  Had Been Mixed With

The Sherbet,  This Produced Delirium,  And A Quantity Of Pulverized Glass

Had Been Introduced Into The Food Given To The Unsuspecting Victim,

Which Produced Inflammation Of The Bowels,  And The Combined Effects Of

These Caused Death. However,  The Perpetrators Of The Foul Deed

Unfortunately Managed To Escape,  By What Means The Writer Did Not State.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter The Last.

 

 

 

 

Carlton Abbey,  The Estate Of The Earls Of Castlemere For Centuries Back,

Was Situated Near Ollarten,  On The Borders Of Sherwood Forest,  In

Nottinghamshire. It Was Formerly A Religious House Of The Highest Order,

Largely And Richly Endowed,  Whose Broad Acres Ran Some Distance Into

"Merrie Sherwood" Itself. It Is Reported That The Renowned Robin Hood,

With A Score Of His Followers,  Once Sought And Obtained Shelter And

Protection There,  When Pursued By The Sheriff Of Nottinghamshire For

Slaying The King'S Deer And Other Misdemeanors Within The Limits Of The

Forest; And Later Here Also Took Place The Celebrated Meeting Between

Cardinal Woolsey And The Duke Of Buckingham,  Previous To That Haughty

Prelate'S Dismissal From Royal Favor And Ultimate Disgrace,  And On The

Death Of The Marchioness Of Cosingby Who,  For Forty Years Reigned As The

Lady Abbess,  The Sisters Of This Order Moved Elsewhere,  As The Property

Fell Into The Hands Of Eustace,  First Earl Of Castlemere,  Heir-At-Law,

By Whom And His Successors,  Alterations And Additions Were Made Becoming

The Home Of An English Noble; But Although The Last Earl Lived A Retired

And Secluded Life,  Carlton Abbey Was Not Allowed To Fall Into Decay,  And

The Manor,  Preserves,  And Grounds Generally Were Kept In excellent

Order,  And So The Earl Of Castlemere,  As We Must Now Designate Our Hero,

Found It; For On Being Assured That He Was,  Beyond The Possibility Of A

Doubt,  Heir To The Estate,  Had Paid A Flying Visit To Nottinghamshire,

And While There Had Given Orders To The Housekeeper And Steward To Have

A Handsome Suit Of Apartments Prepared For The Reception Of The Countess

And Himself; He Likewise Gave Directions To His Agent To Raise A Troop

Of Volunteer Cavalry,  The Cost Of Which Was To Be Defrayed Out Of The

Revenues Of The Estate,  The Men To Be Selected From Among The Tenantry

And Well-To-Do Farmers Residing On The Abbey Lands.

 

On Their Return From The Continent,  The Earl And His Bride Took Formal

Possession Of Carlton Abbey,  Received The Visits Of The Neighboring

Families,