Poor Miss Finch Part 25

"There is a person now in the house," I said. "Her old nurse is still living."

"Send for her directly."

Zillah appeared. After first explaining what he wanted with her, Nugent went straight to the inquiry which he had in view.

"Was your young lady ever frightened when she was a baby by any dark person, or any dark thing, suddenly appearing before her?"

"Never, sir! I took good care to let nothing come near her that could frighten her--so long, poor little thing, as she could see."

"Are you quite sure you can depend on your memory?"

"Quite sure, sir--when it's a long time ago."

Zillah was dismissed. Nugent--thus far, unusually grave, and unusually anxious--turned to me with an air of relief.

"When you proposed to me to join you in forcing Oscar to speak out," he said, "I was not quite easy in my mind about the consequences. After what I have just heard, my fear is removed."

"What fear?" I asked.

"The fear of Oscar's confession producing an estrangement between them which might delay the marriage. I am against all delays. I am especially anxious that Oscar's marriage should not be put off. When we began our conversation, I own to you I was of Oscar's opinion that he would do wisely to let marriage make him sure of his position in her affections, before he risked the disclosure. Now--after what the nurse has told us--I see no risk worth considering."

"In short," I said, "you agree with me?"

"I agree with you--though I _am_ the most opinionated man living. The chances now seem to me to be all in Oscar's favor, Lucilla's antipathy is not what I feared it was--an antipathy firmly rooted in a const.i.tutional malady. It is nothing more serious," said Nugent, deciding the question, at once and for ever, with the air of a man profoundly versed in physiology--"it is nothing more serious than a fanciful growth, a morbid accident, of her blindness. She may live to get over it--she would, I believe, certainly get over it, if she could see. In two words, after what I have found out this morning, I say as you say--Oscar is making a mountain out of a molehill. He ought to have put himself right with Lucilla long since. I have unbounded influence over him. It shall back your influence. Oscar shall make a clean breast of it, before the week is out."

We shook hands on that bargain. As I looked at him--bright and dashing and resolute; Oscar, as I had always wished Oscar to be--I own to my shame I privately regretted that we had not met Nugent in the twilight, on that evening of ours which had opened to Lucilla the gates of a new life.

Having said to each other all that we had to say--our two lovers being away together at the time, for a walk on the hills--we separated, as I then supposed, for the rest of the day. Nugent went to the inn, to look at a stable which he proposed converting into a studio: no room at Browndown being half large enough, for the first prodigious picture with which the "Grand Consoler" in Art proposed to astonish the world. As for me, having nothing particular to do, I went out to see if I could meet Oscar and Lucilla on their return from their walk.

Failing to find them, I strolled back by way of Browndown. Nugent was sitting alone on the low wall in front of the house, smoking a cigar. He rose and came to meet me, with his finger placed mysteriously on his lips.

"You mustn't come in," he said; "you mustn't speak loud enough to be heard." He pointed round the corner of the house to the little room at the side, already familiar to you in these pages. "Oscar and Lucilla are shut up together there. And Oscar is making his confession to her at this moment!"

I lifted my hands and eyes in astonishment. Nugent went on.

"I see you want to know how it has all come about. You shall know.--While I was looking at the stable (it isn't half big enough for a studio for Me!), Oscar's servant brought me a little pencil note, entreating me, in Oscar's name, to go to him directly at Browndown. I found him waiting out here, dreadfully agitated. He cautioned me (just as I have cautioned you) not to speak loud. For the same reason too. Lucilla was in the house----"

"I thought they had gone out for a walk," I interposed.

"They did go out for a walk. But Lucilla complained of fatigue; and Oscar brought her back to Browndown to rest. Well! I inquired what was the matter. The answer informed me that the secret of Oscar's complexion had forced its way out for the second time, in Lucilla's hearing."

"Jicks again!" I exclaimed.

"No--not Jicks. Oscar's own man-servant, this time."

"How did it happen?"

"It happened through one of the boys in the village. Oscar and Lucilla found the little imp howling outside the house. They asked what was the matter. The imp told them that the servant at Browndown had beaten him.

Lucilla was indignant. She insisted on having the thing inquired into.

Oscar left her in the drawing-room (unluckily, as it turned out, without shutting the door); called the man up into the pa.s.sage, and asked what he meant by ill-using the boy. The man answered, 'I boxed his ears, sir, as an example to the rest of them.' 'What did he do?' 'Rapped at the door, sir, with a stick (he is not the first who has done it when you are out); and asked if Blue Face was at home.' Lucilla heard every word of it, through the open door. Need I tell you what happened next?"

It was quite needless to relate that part of the story. I remembered too well what had happened on the former occasion, in the garden. I saw too plainly that Lucilla must have connected the two occurrences in her mind, and must have had her ready suspicion roused to serious action, as the necessary result.

"I understand," I said. "Of course, she insisted on an explanation. Of course, Oscar compromised himself by a clumsy excuse, and wanted you to help him. What did you do?"

"What I told you I should do this morning. He had counted confidently on my taking his side--it was pitiable to see him, poor fellow! Still, for his own sake, I refused to yield. I left him the choice of giving her the true explanation himself, or of leaving me to do it. There wasn't a moment to lose; she was in no humour to be trifled with, I can tell you!

Oscar behaved very well about it--he always behaves well when I drive him into a corner! In one word, he was man enough to feel that he was the right person to make a clean breast of it--not I. I gave the poor old boy a hug to encourage him, pushed him into the room, shut the door on him, and came out here. He ought to have done it by this time. He _has_ done it! Here he comes!"

Oscar ran out, bareheaded, from the house. There were signs of disturbance in him, as he approached us, which warned me that something had gone wrong, before he opened his lips.

Nugent spoke first.

"What's amiss now?" he asked. "Have you told her the truth?"

"I have tried to tell her the truth."

"Tried? What do you mean?"

Oscar put his arm round his brother's neck, and laid his head on his brother's shoulder, without answering one word.

I put a question to him on my side.

"Did Lucilla refuse to listen to you?" I asked.

"No."

"Has she said anything or done anything----?"

He lifted his head from his brother's shoulder, and stopped me before I could finish the sentence.

"You need feel no anxiety about Lucilla. Lucilla's curiosity is satisfied."

Nugent and I gazed at one another, in complete bewilderment. Lucilla had heard it all; Lucilla's curiosity was satisfied. He had that incredibly happy result to communicate to us--and he announced it with a look of humiliation, in a tone of despair! Nugent's patience gave way.

"Let us have an end of this mystification," he said, putting Oscar back from him, sharply, at arm's length. "I want a plain answer to a plain question. She knows that the boy knocked at the door, and asked if Blue Face was at home. Does she know what the boy's impudence meant? Yes? or No?"

"Yes."

"Does she know that it is you who are Blue Face?"

"No."

"No!!! Who else does she think it is?"

As he asked the question, Lucilla appeared at the door of the house. She moved her blind face inquiringly first one way, then the other. "Oscar!"

she called out, "why have you left me alone? where are you?"

Oscar turned, trembling, to his brother.