Caught in a Trap Part 33

Everyone meets their "Fate" at some time or other; and Tom was her fate, young as they both were; perhaps, it was better that that mysterious affinity which unites us all, for a temporary or a permanent period with those especially appointed for us, should come across her early in life.

It is a cup which one only sips once in a lifetime--better early perhaps than late. Do you know there is something in the Mormon doctrine after all--putting polygamy aside--in that principle of theirs that the brides of the elders or prophets are "sealed" to them. It shows a belief in the mystical and apparently predestined affinity of certain souls to one another.

From that first meeting in church, when the stolen glances of Tom had set the loom of love in motion, a regular and intricate warp and woof of affection had been woven between the pair. The time of their acquaintance was perhaps short; but love laughs at time even as well as he does at the proverbial locksmiths: between kindred souls an hour affects more than years in others--as may have been already observed.

Lizzie was visited with an attack of that _malaria mortis_ which comes to some of us in our lives at some certain time or other, either for good or ill. It was a very serious attack. Not a trumpery little ailment which could be patched up for the nonce, and the patient recover without having a scar to remind her of the disease; but a real bona fide visitation, in which the sickness works its course from beginning to end, and is not to be repelled by namby-pamby lotions of milk and water, and worldly prudence and mammon panaceas. It was love. Love _pur et simple_, which one hears derided every day by philosophising "anti-gamonists" and Pharisaical parents, who esteem riches beyond happiness, and "an eligible parti" superior to the attainment of healthy though poor affection. Love overrides worldly motives still, however, in this so-called heathenish and worldly nineteenth century, and exists in spite of the false code of morality which strives to bear it down.

Love in a cottage may be humbug certainly when our souls thirst after the gargoyles of a ten-storied mansion and purple and fine linen. The dinner of roots and herbs in preference to the stalled ox, is a delusion and a snare to one who had a weakness for _entrees_, and would rather the high priced salmon and early peas, at some fabled sum a peck in Covent Garden; but bear me out, Chloe, when next thou listenest with attentive ear to the tuneful pipes of Amaryllon, and you, G.o.d-like Augustus, when you see the modest blush of happiness which crimsons the cheek of the gentle though rustic Lettice Lisle!

After Lizzie had first seen Tom she did not know what was the matter with her, and n.o.body else could perhaps have enlightened her on the subject.

She was restless, and did not know what to do. Things which had previously given pleasure to her she now wondered she could have ever enjoyed. Nothing pleased her; nothing delighted her; what could have come over her?

Her brother perceived the change, and wondered too what was the matter.

He thought Lizzie was hipped at being left alone so much, for he had to be out a good deal, and the household was only composed of himself and her, with the exception of the servants. Acting on this idea he had proposed to Lizzie that they should invite a certain Aunt Jane to visit them; but Lizzie made up a horrible little _moue_, expressive of disgust, and laughed the idea to scorn.

She drew such a picture of the peculiarities of the stern Aunt Jane, and showed what straits they would be reduced to under her _regime_, that Pringle quickly abandoned the project in holy horror, and wondered how he could have ever thought of such a thing. Then when he commented on Lizzie's looks, and asked her affectionately what was the matter, she laughed it off at first, told him she was never better in her life, asked him what could induce him to question her so, and concluded by making a pretty scene, and sobbing on his neck. She was miserable! She did not know what was the matter with her! She must be ill! She would be all right probably to-morrow; she had a headache now, and was tired; she would go to bed!--which she accordingly did.

This was after the first acquaintance with Master Tom.

But when that young gentleman began to take such a deep interest in fly-fishing, and, in pursuing his favourite spoilt, had to pay so many and frequent visits to the parsonage in order to fish in the pool that ran at the bottom of the lawn, Lizzie got brighter and better.

Instead of her movements being all languor and lack of elasticity, they were now all life and vivacity. She took a deeper interest in everything around her; every little humdrum detail in her daily routine seemed to be invested with a new charm: there was not a brighter little la.s.sie around the country side. She was merry then, and when Tom's avowal came, and she heard from his own lips those burning words of love, of which she had been intuitively cognisant, and which she had, unknown to herself, already returned, her cup of happiness brimmed over.

The change was complete.

Then came the after relapse, when Tom came down so miserably to tell of his mother's refusal, and had afterwards parted from her in anger.

In anger with her! She thought her little heart would break.

The falling out of lovers, however, is the renewal of love; and so Lizzie found it.

The happiness which she then enjoyed was greater than that which preceded it. Who is it that defines that word happiness to be "gleams of a brighter world, too soon eclipsed and forfeited?" Lizzie's bliss, however, was saddened by the thought that Tom was soon to leave her. It intensified her love, and surrounded it with that holier charm which sorrow always lends.

Then came the parting. And Andromeda was left alone to lament, whilst her lover was ploughing the stormy main. Tom was "off to the wars"-- rather a queer place for a knight of chivalry in the nineteenth century to seek for adventure, Abyssinia!--and Lizzie had, like most women in such cases, to nurse her grief, which was her joy as well, by herself.

'Tis the way of the world, as Kingsley sings--

"For men must work! and women must weep!

And the sooner 'tis over, the sooner to sleep!"

The weary weeks glided by slowly after Tom's departure, and Lizzie's little world was changed. But greater changes were coming soon, if not to her spiritual, at least to her temporal state.

Lizzie had been made aware, of course, long since, of her brother's engagement with Laura Inskip; but she had been so much taken up with her own troubles that she had not had spirit enough to enter into Herbert's "little _roman_" with all the good-natured enthusiasm of which her bursting: little heart was capable. Events had rolled on so rapidly that she became confused between them all, and the engagement with Laura was not looked upon with that surprise and interest with which any enterprise or suit of her brother's was usually regarded.

But time went on, and Lizzie could not but interest herself now in the progress of change around her. She had liked the languid Laura in her way; but she was not the sort of girl--being a very energetic and hopeful little sister--that she would have selected for her brother's mate. She would have had a little G.o.ddess or empress for Herbert; still as Herbert had chosen for himself, she made up her mind to love her expected sister-in-law with all her heart.

With these thoughts, Lizzie made many advances to the Inskips, but the old campaigner was very disagreeable to her, and treated her as a nonent.i.ty; and Laura was too lazy to share her future sister's enthusiasm, so Lizzie's feelings were damped. Carry, she thought very "nice," but she was too noisy and gushing for Lizzie, just so heavily bereaved; consequently the little maiden was forced to withdraw herself within herself, and think of the future and Tom, and build very unstable castles in the air.

And so the autumn pa.s.sed by, and winter was nigh, and the change changed still.

Herbert Pringle was to be married early in the new year. It was to be quite a grand affair, and from the hints dropped, Bigton and Hartwood village were all agog with the news and their antic.i.p.ations, for you may be sure the campaigner was not one to hide her light under a bushel.

But Lizzie felt alone! Poor Andromeda. Perseus had gone! not in a cla.s.sic trireme! but by one of the P. and O. steamers.

Volume 3, Chapter V.

BEFORE THE JUGE DE PAIX.

Following the Chef, on her arrival at the office, Miss Kingscott found Monsieur le Juge de Paix to be an oldish man, with sharp striking features, his nose having an unfair advantage over the others; and his skin, tightly drawn over the face, was of that saffron hue which adapts itself to the complexion of most Frenchmen, and Messieurs les Espagnols as well, after they have entered their eighth l.u.s.trum. He was seated in his official chamber, surrounded with all the majesty of the law, as suited his elevated position. A clerk occupied a lower desk in the same room, and the majestic demeanour of his superior seemed reflected, although in an inferior degree, on him.

Dechemal and Auguste, the Chefs aides, were both there. So also was the Mere Cliquelle and her husband, appearing terribly frightened, and imagining that they were going to be guillotined at the least. A bust of Napoleon the Third looked down from a niche in the wall, facing the judge, sternly on all, giving an air of dignity to the whole proceedings. The judge was taking notes, his clerk following suit; the _mouchards_ contemplating the impa.s.sable physiognomy of the "Man of Destiny;" the Mere Cliquelle and her small better-half awaiting their turn for examination in the background. There was no crowd, no troops of friends and spectators and idlers, such as you would see in a disorderly English court-room; no, they manage these things very differently in France. There were only those persons present who were absolutely necessary for conducting the enquiry; all was silent and quiet, although the machinery of the law Gallic was in rapid motion.

The wheels of justice run in greased grooves on the other side of the Channel.

The arrival of the Chef and his important witness, Miss Kingscott, accelerated movements.

The governess deposed, on oath, as follows:--That on the previous day she had crossed over from Southampton, Angleterre, to Havre, _par la vapeur_; her object was to see a certain Monsieur Anglais, by name Allynne Markworth (the judge had some difficulty in arriving at the exact etymology of the name, being inclined more than persistently to call it "Makervorts;" so Miss Kingscott had to spell it succinctly, and afterwards write it down for the correct information of the clerk).

This gentleman lived, when at Havre, at the house Numero 7, Rue Montmartre; he had lived there for the last three months, she believed, with his wife--that is a lady whom he had married in England, after abducting her from her home; it was not yet settled whether she was legally his wife or not--there was a law-suit, or _proces civil_, at present pending in England on the subject. She (Miss Kingscott) knew this lady--Markworth's wife--very well; she had, indeed, been her _gouvernante_ at her mother's house for some months; she had reason to know her, she should think, and would not have any difficulty in recognising her. Her name was Susan Hartshorne. This Susan Hartshorne came from the _departement de Suss.e.x, au sud de l'Angleterre_; her mother was _une veuve_, and a large _proprietaire_; her address was The Poplars, Suss.e.x, England (direction given by the judge, and note taken by clerk to forward information to said address); she (Miss Kingscott) had crossed in the boat, as she had said, yesterday, and arrived at Havre about mid-day. Perhaps it was before that time, she could not be certain, and, at all events, it did not matter. (Witness was here cautioned by the judge not to make any irrelevant observations. Nothing was too insignificant to be taken note of; the eye of justice was wide, and comprehended everything in its vision.) Markworth probably came over in the same boat with her.

"Did Mademoiselle see _ce Monsieur la_ on board?"

"Yes, Mademoiselle did see him on board; it was at night, and dark; but she saw him come on the boat at Southampton, and she saw him leave it yesterday when they arrived at Havre; she had been watching him."

"Did Mademoiselle accompany Monsieur?"

"No, certainly not; she had not spoken to him all the time they were on board; she did not think that he knew she was there."

"It is very strange. I thought Mademoiselle came over especially to see this Monsieur Markworth? _Mon Dieu_! Here she was on board with him all the time on the boat, and she had not spoken to him! She did not think even that this monsieur knew she was there! It was very strange!"

"Yes, it might be strange; but she had her own reasons for acting as she did. She did not wish this Markworth to know that she was there, or to meet him until after he had landed and gone home; she had her reasons."

"Mademoiselle then had _Monsieur_ under surveillance?"

"Well, they might call it spying if they liked. She had watched this Markworth enter the house already pointed out in the Rue Montmartre.

She had then herself gone to the Hotel du Cote d'Or, and secured an _appartement_. After this she had returned to the Rue Montmartre, and asked at the house of the Mere Cliquelle to see M. Markworth. She had been refused admittance, although she knew he was _chez lui_. In carrying out her purpose of watching his movements, she had gone over to a cafe on the opposite side of the street, from the upper room of which she was able to observe the house at _Numero Sept_. She watched there until late in the afternoon--evening it was, for it was after seven-- nearly eight o'clock she thought. At that time she then saw Markworth come out of the house along with his wife--the girl Susan Hartshorne, to whom she had before referred."

"Can you swear it was her?"

"_Je le jure_" responded Miss Kingscott, and then went on with her deposition. She went out from her place of observation quickly after them. They went in the direction of Ingouville, up the heights; Markworth walking by the side of his wife, or reputed wife, and she, Miss Kingscott some little distance behind them. She did not speak to them, and did not think that they knew of her propinquity. She let them get on some distance ahead of her, although she still followed and kept them in sight. When they got on the heights they stopped walking, and she hid herself behind a projecting wall. She feared some mischief, and watched to see what Markworth was going to do. Presently she heard his voice raised as if in anger, and then the voice of the girl Susan as if in supplication. She then heard a scream from the unfortunate girl.

She, Miss Kingscott, rushed forward to help her. She was too late.

_Helas_! She saw this Markworth, this villain, throw the girl over the precipice.

"You saw him throw her over?"

"Yes, I swear it. I then tried to stop the murderer, but he escaped from my hands, knocked me senseless with a blow--here is the cut on my forehead now--and he got off, heaven only knows where. I had cried, '_a voleur_' and '_a.s.sa.s.sinat_' as loud as I could before I became insensible, but no one came to my help. When I recovered my consciousness I walked feebly down the path, and meeting a _sergent de ville_, told him all about the murder, but he arrested me, thinking, he says, I was drunk, and I was locked up in a cell till this evening, when the Chef released me, apologising for the mistake of his subordinate. I have only to add," observed Miss Kingscott, after she had finished answering the questions put to her, "that had it not been for this mistake on the part of your boasted _sergents de ville_, which could only have arisen from sheer stupidity, the murderer might never have got off."

"_C'est possible_!" said the judge, making a note against the name of the unfortunate guardian of the peace who had arrested the governess.

"But Mademoiselle will recollect that according to her statement it was several hours after the escape of her a.s.sailant that she was thus _arretee_. Call the next witnesses!"

And the interrogatory went on.