Elster's Folly, Mrs. Henry Wood [ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt] 📗

Than Anger To Edward; But

The Thought That I Should Be Punishing Him For Another's Fault Checked

Me. I Wonder How We Can Get Rid Of Her?"

 

"We Must Strive To Please Her While She Stays."

 

"Please Her!" He Echoed. "Anne,  My Dear,  That Is Stretching Christian

Charity Rather Too Far."

 

Anne Smiled. "I Am A Clergyman's Daughter,  You Know,  Val."

 

"If She Is Wise,  She'll Abstain From Offending You In My Presence. I'm

Not Sure But I Should Lose Command Of Myself,  And Send Her Off There And

Then."

 

"I Don't Fear That. She Was Quite Civil When We Came Up From Dinner,

And--"

 

"As She Generally Is Then. She Takes Her Share Of Wine."

 

"And Asked Me If I Would Excuse Her Falling Into A Doze,  For She Never

Felt Well Without It."

 

Anne Was Right. The Cunning Old Woman Changed Her Tactics,  Finding Those

She Had Started Would Not Answer. It Has Been Remarked Before,  If You

Remember,  That She Knew Particularly Well On Which Side Her Bread Was

Buttered. Nothing Could Exceed Her Graciousness From That Evening. The

Past Scene Might Have Been A Dream,  For All Traces That Remained Of It.

Out Of The House She Was Determined Not To Go In Anger; It Was Too

Desirable A Refuge For That. And On The Following Day,  Upon Hearing

Edward Attempt Some Impudent Speech To His New Mother,  She Put Him Across

Her Knee,  Pulled Off An Old Slipper She Was Wearing,  And Gave Him A

Whipping. Anne Interposed,  The Boy Roared; But The Good Woman Had

Her Way.

 

"Don't Put Yourself Out,  Dear Lady Hartledon. There's Nothing So Good

For Them As A Wholesome Whipping. I Used To Try It On My Own Children

At Times."

 

Chapter 32 (Mr. Pike On The Wing)

 

The Time Went On. It May Have Been Some Twelve Or Thirteen Months Later

That Mr. Carr,  Sitting Alone In His Chambers,  One Evening,  Was Surprised

By The Entrance Of His Clerk--Who Possessed A Latch-Key As Well As

Himself.

 

"Why,  Taylor! What Brings You Here?"

 

"I Thought You Would Most Likely Be In,  Sir," Replied The Clerk. "Do

You Remember Some Few Years Ago Making Inquiries About A Man Named

Gorton--And You Could Not Find Him?"

 

"And Never Have Found Him," Was Mr. Carr's Comment. "Well?"

 

"I Have Seen Him This Evening. He Is Back In London."

 

Thomas Carr Was Not A Man To Be Startlingly Affected By Any

Communication; Nevertheless He Felt The Importance Of This,  For Lord

Hartledon's Sake.

 

"I Met Him By Chance,  In A Place Where I Sometimes Go Of An Evening To

Smoke A Cigar,  And Learned His Name By Accident," Continued Mr. Taylor.

"It's The Same Man That Was At Kedge And Reck's,  George Gorton; He

Acknowledged It At Once,  Quite Readily."

 

"And Where Has He Been Hiding Himself?"

 

"He Has Been In Australia For Several Years,  He Says; Went There Directly

After He Left Kedge And Reck's That Autumn."

 

"Could You Get Him Here,  Taylor? I Must See Him. Tell Me: What Coloured

Hair Has He?"

 

"Red,  Sir; And Plenty Of It. He Says He's Doing Very Well Over There,

And Has Only Come Home For A Short Change. He Does Not Seem To Be In

Concealment,  And Gave Me His Address When I Asked Him For It."

 

According To Mr. Carr's Wish,  The Man Gorton Was Brought To His Chambers

The Following Morning By Taylor. To The Barrister's Surprise,  A

Well-Dressed And Really Rather Gentlemanly Man Entered. He Had Been

Accustomed To Picturing This Gorton As An Arab Of London Life. Casting

A Keen Glance At The Red Hair,  He Saw It Was Indisputably His Own.

 

A Few Rapid Questions,  Which Gorton Answered Without The Slightest Demur,

And Mr. Carr Leaned Back In His Chair,  Knowing That All The Trouble He

Had Been At To Find This Man Might Have Been Spared: For He Was Not The

George Gordon They Had Suspected. But Mr. Carr Was Cautious,  And Betrayed

Nothing.

 

"I Am Sorry To Have Troubled You," He Said. "When I Inquired For You Of

Kedge And Reck Some Years Ago,  It Was Under The Impression That You Were

Some One Else. You Had Left; And They Did Not Know Where To Find You."

 

"Yes,  I Had Displeased Them Through Arresting A Wrong Man,  And Other

Things. I Was Down In The World Then,  And Glad To Do Anything For A

Living,  Even To Serving Writs."

 

"You Arrested The Late Lord Hartledon For His Brother," Observed Mr.

Carr,  With A Careless Smile. "I Heard Of It. I Suppose You Did Not Know

Them Apart."

 

"I Had Never Set Eyes On Either Of Them Before," Returned Gorton;

Unconsciously Confirming A Point In The Barrister's Mind; Which,  However,

Was Already Sufficiently Obvious.

 

"The Man I Wanted To Find Was Named Gordon. I Thought It Just Possible

That You Might Have Changed Your Name Temporarily: Some Of Us Finding It

Convenient To Do So On Occasion."

 

"I Never Changed Mine In My Life."

 

"And If You Had,  I Don't Suppose You'd Have Changed It To One So

Notorious As George Gordon."

 

"Notorious?"

 

"It Was A George Gordon Who Was The Hero Of That Piratical Affair; That

Mutiny On Board The _Morning Star_."

 

"Ah,  To Be Sure. And An Awful Villain Too! A Man I Met In Australia Knew

Gordon Well. But He Tells A Curious Tale,  Though. He Was A Doctor,  That

Gordon; Had Come Last From Somewhere In Kirkcudbrightshire."

 

"He Did," Said Thomas Carr,  Quietly. "What Curious Tale Does Your Friend

Tell?"

 

"Well,  Sir,  He Says--Or Rather Said,  For I've Not Seen Him Since My First

Visit There--That George Gordon Did Not Sail In The _Morning Star_. He

Was Killed In A Drunken Brawl The Night Before He Ought To Have Sailed:

This Man Was Present And Saw Him Buried."

 

"But There's Pretty Good Proof That Gordon Did Sail. He Was The

Ringleader Of The Mutiny."

 

"Well,  Yes. I Don't Know How It Could Have Been. The Man Was Positive.

I Never Knew Gordon; So That The Affair Did Not Interest Me Much."

 

"You Are Doing Well Over There?"

 

"Very Well. I Might Retire Now,  If I Chose To Live In A Small Way,  But I

Mean To Take A Few More Years Of It,  And Go On To Riches. Ah! And It Was

Just The Turn Of A Pin Whether I Went Over There That Second Time,  Or

Whether I Stopped In London To Serve Writs And Starve."

 

"Val Was Right," Thought The Barrister.

 

On The Following Saturday Mr. Carr Took A Return-Ticket,  And Went Down

To Hartledon: As He Had Done Once Or Twice Before In The Old Days. The

Hartledons Had Not Come To Town This Season; Did Not Intend To Come: Anne

Was Too Happy In The Birth Of Her Baby-Boy To Care For London; And Val

Liked Hartledon Better Than Any Other Place Now.

 

In One Single Respect The Past Year Had Failed To Bring Anne

Happiness--There Was Not Entire Confidence Between Herself And Her

Husband. He Had Something On His Mind,  And She Could Not Fail To See That

He Had. It Was Not That Awful Dread That Seemed To Possess Him In His

First Wife's Time; Nevertheless It Was A Weight Which Told More Or Less

On His Spirits At All Times. To Anne It Appeared Like Remorse; Yet She

Might Never Have Thought This,  But For A Word Or Two He Let Slip

Occasionally. Was It Connected With His Children? She Could Almost Have

Fancied So: And Yet In What Manner Could It Be? His Behaviour Was

Peculiar. He Rather Avoided Them Than Not; But When With Them Was Almost

Passionately Demonstrative,  Exactingly Jealous That Due Attention Should

Be Paid To Them: And He Seemed Half Afraid Of Caressing Anne's Baby,  Lest

It Should Be Thought He Cared For It More Than For The Others. Altogether

Lady Hartledon Puzzled Her Brains In Vain: She Could Not Make Him Out.

When She Questioned Him He Would Deny That There Was Anything The Matter,

And Said It Was Her Fancy.

 

They Were At Hartledon Alone: That Is,  Without The Countess-Dowager.

That Respected Lady,  Though Not Actually Domiciled With Them During The

Past Twelve-Month,  Had Paid Them Three Long Visits. She Was Determined

To Retain Her Right In The Household--If Right It Could Be Called. The

Dowager Was By Far Too Wary To Do Otherwise; And Her Behaviour To Anne

Was Exceedingly Mild. But Somehow She Contrived To Retain,  Or Continually

Renew,  Her Evil Influence Over The Children; Though So Insidiously,  That

Lady Hartledon Could Never Detect How Or When It Was Done,  Or Openly Meet

It. Neither Could She Effectually Counteract It. So Surely As The Dowager

Came,  So Surely Did The Young Boy And His Sister Become Unruly With Their

Step-Mother; Ill-Natured And Rude. Lady Hartledon Was Kind,  Judicious,

And Good; And Things Would So Far Be Remedied During The Crafty Dowager's

Absences,  As To Promise A Complete Cure; But Whenever She Returned The

Evil Broke Out Again. Anne Was Sorely Perplexed. She Did Not Like To Deny

The Children To Their Grandmother,  Who Was More Nearly Related To Them

Than She Herself; And She Could Only Pray That Time Would Bring About

Some Remedy. The Dowager Passed Her Time Pretty Equally Between Their

House And Her Son's. Lord Kirton Had Not Married Again,  Owing,  Perhaps,

To The Watch And Ward Kept Over Him. But As Soon As He Started Off To The

Continent,  Or Elsewhere,  Where She Could Not Follow Him,  Then Off She

Came,  Without Notice,  To England And Lord Hartledon's. And Val,  In His

Good-Nature,  Bore The Infliction Passively So Long As She Kept Civil And

Peaceable.

 

In This Also Her Husband's Behaviour Puzzled Anne. Disliking The Dowager

Beyond Every Other Created Being,  He Yet Suffered Her To Indulge His

Children; And If Any Little Passage-At-Arms Supervened,  Took Her Part

Rather Than His Wife's.

 

"I Cannot Understand You,  Val," Anne Said To Him One Day,  In Tones Of

Pain. "You Are Not As You Used To Be." And His Only Answer Was To Strain

His Wife To His Bosom With An Impassioned Gesture Of Love.

 

But These Were Only Episodes In Their Generally Happy Life. Never More

Happy,  More Free From Any External Influence,  Than When Thomas Carr

Arrived There On This Identical Saturday. He Went In Unexpectedly: And

Val's Violet Eyes,  Beautiful As Ever,  Shone Out Their Welcome; And Anne,

Who Happened To Have Her Baby On Her Lap,  Blushed And Smiled,  As She Held

It Out For The Barrister's Inspection.

 

"I Dare Not Take It," Said He. "You Would Be Up In Arms If It Were

Dropped. What Is Its Name?"

 

"Reginald."

 

A Little While,  And She Carried The Child Away,  Leaving Them Alone. Mr.

Carr Declined Refreshment For The Present; And He And Val Strolled Out

Arm-In-Arm.

 

"I Have Brought You An Item Of News,  Hartledon. Gorton Has Turned Up."

 

"Not Gordon?"

 

"No. And What's More,  Gorton Never Was Gordon. You Were Right,  And

I Was Wrong. I Would Have Bet A Ten-Pound Note--A Great Venture For A

Barrister--That The Men Were The Same; Never,  In Point Of Fact,  Had A

Doubt Of It."

 

"You Would Not Listen To Me," Said Val. "I Told You I Was Sure I Could

Not Have Failed To Recognize Gordon,  Had He Been The One Who Was Down At

Calne With The Writ."

 

"But You Acknowledged That It Might Have Been He,  Nevertheless; That His

Red Hair Might Have Been False; That You Never Had A Distinct View Of The

Man's Face; And That The Only Time You Spoke To Him Was In The Gloaming,"

Reiterated Thomas Carr. "Well,  As It Turns Out,  We Might Have Spared Half

Our Pains And Anxiety,  For Gorton Was Never Any One But Himself: An

Innocent Sheriff's Officer,  As Far As You Are Concerned,  Who Had Never,

In His Life Set Eyes On Val Elster Until He Went After Him To Calne."

 

"Didn't I Say So?" Reiterated Val. "Gordon Would Have Known Me Too Well

To Arrest Edward For Me."

 

"But You Admitted The General Likeness Between You And Your Brother; And

Gordon Had Not Seen You For Three Years Or More."

 

"Yes; I Admitted All You Say,  And Perhaps Was A Little Doubtful Myself.

But I Soon Shook Off The Doubt,  And Of Late