Tales from Dickens, Charles Dickens [best book club books .TXT] 📗

Edwin Drood A young engineer John Jasper His uncle and guardian. A choir master Rosa Bud An orphan girl, engaged to marry Drood
Known as "Rosebud" Mr. Grewgious A lawyer. Her guardian Miss Twinkleton The principal of the Young Ladies'
Seminary in Cloisterham The Reverend Mr. Crisparkle A minister Neville Landless Mr. Crisparkle's pupil Helena His twin sister Rosebud's room-mate in the seminary Luke Honeythunder A self-styled "philanthropist" and
bore. Guardian of Neville and Helena Lieutenant Tartar A retired naval officer "Dick Datchery" A detective Durdles A stone-mason and chiseler of tombstones "The Deputy" A street Arab

THE MYSTERY OF EDWIN DROOD I

JOHN JASPER

In the quiet town of Cloisterham, in England, in a boarding-school, once lived a beautiful girl named Rosa Bud—an amiable, wilful, winning, whimsical little creature whom every one called Rosebud. She was an orphan. Her mother had been drowned when she was only seven years old and her father had died of grief on the first anniversary of that day.

Her father's friend and college mate, a Mr. Drood, had comforted his last hours, and they had agreed between them that when Rosebud was old enough she should marry Mr. Drood's son Edwin, then a little boy. Her father put this wish in his will, as did Mr. Drood, who died also soon after his friend, and so Rosebud and Edwin Drood grew up knowing that, though not bound in any way, each was intended for the other. So it came about that, while if they had been let alone they might have fallen in love naturally, yet as it was they were always shy and ill at ease with one another. Yet they liked each other, too.

Rosebud's guardian was a Mr. Grewgious, an arid, sandy man who looked as if he might be put in a grinding-mill and turned out first-class snuff. He had scanty hair like a yellow fur tippet, and deep notches in his forehead, and was very near-sighted. He seemed to have been born old, so that when he came to London to call on Rosebud amid all the school-girls he used to say he felt like a bear with the cramp. Grewgious, however, under his oddity had a very tender heart, particularly for Rosebud, whose mother he had been secretly in love with before she married. But he had grown up a dry old bachelor, living in gloomy rooms in London, and no one would have guessed him ever to have been a bit romantic.

The school Rosebud attended was called Nun's House. Miss Twinkleton, the prim old maid who managed it, termed it a "Seminary for Young Ladies." It had a worn front, with a shining brass door-plate that made it look at a distance like a battered old beau with a big new eye-glass stuck in his blind eye. Here Rosebud lived a happy life, the pet of the whole seminary, till she was a young lady.

Cloisterham was a dull, gray town with an ancient cathedral, which was so cold and dark and damp that looking into its door was like looking down the throat of old Father Time. The cathedral had a fine choir, which sang at all the services and was taught and led by a music-master whose name was John Jasper. This Jasper, as it happened, was the uncle and guardian of Edwin Drood.

Drood, who was studying to be an engineer, was very fond of his uncle and came often to Cloisterham to visit him, so that Rosebud saw a great deal of her intended husband. He always called her "Pussy." He used to call on her at the school and take her walking and buy her candy at a Turkish shop, called "Lumps of Delight," and did his best to get on well with her, though he felt awkward.

Drood and Jasper were much more like two friends than like uncle and nephew, for the choir master was very little older than the other.

Jasper seemed to be wonderfully fond of Drood, and every one who knew him thought him a most honorable and upright man; but in reality he was far different. At heart he hated the cathedral and the singing, and wished often that he could find relief, like some old monk, in carving demons out of the desks and seats. He had a soul that was without fear or conscience.

One vile and wicked practice he had which he had hidden from all who knew him. He was an opium smoker. He would steal away to London to a garret kept by a mumbling old woman who knew the secret of mixing the drug, and there, stretched on a dirty pallet, sometimes with a drunken Chinaman or a Lascar beside him, would smoke pipe after pipe of the dreadful mixture that stole away his senses and left him worse than before. Hours later he would awake, give the woman money and hurry back to Cloisterham just in time, perhaps, to put on his church robes and lead the cathedral choir.

Though no one knew of this, and though Edwin Drood thought his uncle was well-nigh perfect, Rosebud, after she grew up, had no liking for Jasper. He gave her music lessons and every time they met he terrified her. She felt sometimes that he haunted her thoughts like a dreadful ghost. He seemed almost to make a slave of her with his looks, and she felt that in every glance he was telling her that he, Jasper, loved her and yet compelled her to keep silence. But, though disliking the choir master so, and shivering whenever he came near her, Rosebud did not know how to tell Edwin, who she knew loved and believed in Jasper, of her feelings.

II

THE COMING OF NEVILLE LANDLESS

One of the ministers in charge of the cathedral was the Reverend Mr. Crisparkle, a ruddy, young, active, honest fellow, who was perpetually practising boxing before the looking-glass or pitching himself head-foremost into all the streams about the town for a swim, even when it was winter and he had to break the ice with his head.

Mr. Crisparkle sometimes took young men into his home to live while he tutored them to prepare them for college. One day he received word from a Mr. Luke Honeythunder in London, telling him he was about to bring to Cloisterham a twin brother and sister, Neville and Helena Landless, the young man to be taught by Mr. Crisparkle and his sister Helena to be put in Miss Twinkleton's seminary.

This Luke Honeythunder called himself a philanthropist, but he was a queer sort of one, indeed. He was always getting up public meetings and talking loudly, insisting on everybody's thinking exactly as he did, and saying dreadful things of them if they did not.

Helena and Neville Landless had been born in Ceylon, where as little children they had been cruelly treated by their stepfather. But they had brave spirits, and four times in six years they had run away, only to be brought back each time and punished. On each of these occasions (the first had been when they were but seven years old) Helena had dressed as a boy and once had even tried to cut off her long hair with Neville's pocket-knife. At length their cruel stepfather died, and they were sent to England, where for no other reason than that his name was continually appearing in the newspapers, Mr. Honeythunder had been appointed their guardian.

No wonder the brother and sister had grown up thinking everybody was their enemy. They were quite prepared to hate Mr. Crisparkle when their guardian brought them. But by the time Mr. Honeythunder had gone (and Mr. Crisparkle was as glad as they were when he went home) they liked the young minister and felt that they would be happy there. They were a handsome pair, and Mr. Crisparkle was attracted to them both. Neville was lithe, and dark and rich in color; Helena was almost like a gypsy, slender, supple and quick. Both seemed half shy, half defiant, as though their blood were untamed.

To make them welcome that first evening, Mr. Crisparkle invited to his house Jasper, the choir master, with Edwin Drood, who was visiting him, and Rosebud from the seminary. Before they parted Rosebud was asked to sing.

Jasper played her accompaniment, and while she sang he watched her lips intently. All at once, to their great astonishment, Rosebud covered her face with her hands and, crying out, "I can't bear this! I am frightened! Take me away!" burst into tears.

Helena, the new-comer, who had liked Rosebud at first sight, seemed to understand her better than any one else. She laid her on a sofa, soothed her, and in a few moments Rosebud seemed again as usual. Mr. Crisparkle and Edwin Drood thought it only a fit of nervousness. To her relief, they made light of the matter, and so the evening ended.

But later, at Nun's House, where she and Helena were to be room-mates, Rosebud told her new friend how much she disliked Jasper and how his eyes terrified her, and how, as she sang, with his eyes watching her lips, she felt as if he had kissed her.

While the two girls were talking of this, Neville and Edwin Drood, who had gone with them as far as the door of the seminary, were walking back together. Mr. Crisparkle had told Neville of Drood's betrothal to Rosebud, and Neville now spoke of it. Drood, who had felt all along that he and Rosebud did not get along well together and who was sensitive on the subject, was unjustly angry that the other should so soon know what he considered his own private affair. He answered in a surly way and, as both were quick-tempered, they soon came to high words.

As it happened, Jasper was walking near, and, overhearing, came between them. He reproved them good-naturedly and took them to his rooms, where he insisted they should drink a glass of wine with him to their good fellowship. There he did a dastardly thing. He mixed with the wine a drug which, once drunk, aroused their angry passions. Their speech grew thick and the quarrel began again. Safe now from any spectator, Jasper did not attempt to soothe them. He let them go on until they were about to come to blows. Then, pretending the greatest indignation, he threw himself upon