The Light of Scarthey Part 35

Musing, Sir Adrian fell into silence. The faithful, foolish heart that never even told its secret desire, for very fear of being helped to win it; by whom happiness and love were held to be too dearly bought at the price of separation from the lonely exile!

"_Eh bien_, dreamer?" cried the girl gaily.

"Thank you, Molly," said Sir Adrian, turning to her with shining eyes.

"This is a pretty thought, a good thought. Renny will indeed doubly bless the day when Providence sent you to Pulwick."

And so, the following morn, Mr. Renny Potter was summoned to hear the tidings, and informed of the benevolent prospects more privately concerning his own life; was bidden to thank the future Lady Landale for her service; was gently rebuked for his long reticence, and finally dismissed in company of the glowing Moggie with a promise that his nuptials should be celebrated at the same time as those of the lord of the land. The good fellow, however, required first of all an a.s.surance that these very fine plans would not entail any interference with his duties to his master before he would allow himself to be pleased at his fortunes. Great and complex, then, was his joy; but it would have been hard to say, as Moggie confessed to her inquiring mistress that night, when he had returned to his post, whether the pride and delight in his master's own betrothal was not uppermost in his bubbling spirits.

CHAPTER XX

TWO MONTHS LATER: THE QUICK AND THE DEAD

Neighbour, what doth thy husband when he cometh home from work?

He thinks of her he loved before he knew me

_Luteplayer's Song._

_February 18th._ Upon the 18th of January, 1815, did I commit that most irreparable of all follies; then by my own hand I killed fair Molly de Savenaye, who was so happy, so free, so much in love with life, and whom I loved so dearly, and in her stead called into existence Molly Landale, a poor-spirited miserable creature who has not given me one moment's amus.e.m.e.nt. How could I have been so stupid?

Let me examine.

It is only a month ago, only a month, 4 weeks, 31 days, millions of horrible dreary minutes, Oh, Molly, Molly, Molly! since you stood, that snowy day, in the great drawing-room (_my_ drawing-room now, I hate it), and vowed twice over, once before the Jesuit father from Stonyhurst, once before jolly, hunting heretical parson Cochrane to cleave to Adrian Landale till death bid you part! Brr--what ghastly words and with what a light heart I said them, tripped them out, _ma foi_, as gaily as "good-morning" or "good-night!" They were to be the _open sesame_ to joys untold, to lands flowing with milk and honey, to romance, adventure, splendour--and what have they brought me?

It is a cold day, sleeting, snowing, blowing, all that is abominable.

My lord and master has ridden off, despite it, to some distant farm where there has been a fire. The "Good Sir Adrian," as they call him now--he is _that_; but, oh dear me--there! I must yawn, and I'll say no more on this head, at present, for I want to think and work my wretched problem out in earnest, and not go to sleep.

It is the first time I have taken heart to write since yonder day of doom, and G.o.d knows when I shall have heart again! Upon such an afternoon there is nothing better to do, since Sir Adrian would have none of my company--he is so precious of me that he fears I should melt like sugar in the wet--he never guessed that it was just because of the storm I wished the ride! Were we to live a hundred years together--which, G.o.d forfend--he would never understand me.

Ah, lack-a-day, oh, misery me! (My lady, you are wandering; come back to business.)

What, then, has marriage brought me? First of all a husband. That is to say, another person, a man who has the right to me--to whom I myself have given that right--to have me, to hold me, as it runs in the terrible service, the thunders of which were twice rolled out upon my head, and which have been ringing there ever since. And I, Molly, gave of my own free will, that best and most blessed of all gifts, my own free will, away. I am surrounded, as it were, by barriers; hemmed in, bound up, kept in leading strings. I mind me of the seagull on the island. 'Tis all in the most loving care in the world, of course, but oh! the oppression of it! I must hide my feelings as well as I can, for in my heart I would not grieve that good man, that _excellent_ man, that pattern of kind gentleman--oh, oh, oh--it will out--that _dreary_ man, that dull man, that most melancholy of all men! Who sighs more than he smiles, and, I warrant, of the two, his sighs are the more cheerful; who looks at his beautiful wife as if he saw a ghost, and kisses her as if he kissed a corpse!

There is a mate for Molly! the mate she chose for herself!

So much for the husband. What else has marriage brought her?

Briefly I will capitulate.

A t.i.tle--I am _my lady_. For three days it sounded prettily in my ears. But to the girl who refused a d.u.c.h.ess' coronet, who was born comtesse--to be the baronet's lady--Tanty may say what she likes of the age of creation, and all the rest of it--that advantage cannot weigh heavy in the balance. Again then, I have a splendid house--which is my prison, and in which, like all prisoners, I have not the right to choose my company--else would Sophia and Rupert still be here? They are going, I am told occasionally; but my intimate conviction is, however often they may be going, _they will never go_.

_Item four:_ I have money, and nothing to spend it on--but the poor.

What next? What next?--alas, I look and I find nothing! This is all that marriage has brought me; and what has it not taken from me?

My delight in existence, my independence, my hopes, my belief in the future, my belief in _love_. Faith, hope, and charity, in fact, destroyed at one fell sweep. And all, to gratify my curiosity as to a romantic mystery, my vanity as to my own powers of fascination! Well, I have solved the mystery, and behold it was nothing. I have eaten of the fruit of knowledge, and it is tasteless in my mouth.

I have made my capture with my little bow and spear, and I am as embarra.s.sed of my captive as he of me. We pull at the chain that binds us together; nay, such being the law of this world between men and women, the positions are reversed, my captive is now my master, and Molly is the slave.

Tanty, I could curse thee for thy officiousness, from the tip of thy coal black wig to the sole of thy platter shoe--but that I am too good to curse thee at all!

Poor book of my life that I was so eager to fill in, that was to have held a narrative all thrilling, and all varied, now will I set forth in thee, my failure, my hopelessness, and after that close thee for ever.

Of what use indeed to chronicle, when there is nought to tell but flatness, chill monotony, on every side; when even the workings of my soul cannot interest me to follow, since they can now foreshadow nothing, lead to nothing but fruitless struggle or tame resignation!

I discovered my mistake--not the whole of it, but enough to give me a dreadful foreboding of its hideousness, not two hours after the nuptial ceremony.

Adrian had borne himself up to that with the romantic, mysterious dignity of presence that first caught my silly fancy; behind which I had pictured such fascinating depths of pa.s.sion--of fire--Alas! When he looked at me it was with that air of wondering, almost timid, affection battling with I know not what flame of rapture, with which look I have become so fatally familiar since--without the flame of rapture, be it understood, which seems to have rapidly burnt away to a very ash of grey despondency and self-reproach. I could have sworn even as he gave me his arm to meet and receive the congratulations of our guests, that the glow upon his cheek, the poise of his head denoted the pride any man, were he not an idiot nor a brute, must feel in presenting his bride--such a bride!--to the world. Then we went in to the great dining hall where the wedding feast, a very splendid one, was spread. All the gentlemen looked with admiration at me; many with envy at Adrian. I knew that I was beautiful in my fine white satin with my veil thrown back, without the flattering whispers that reached me now and again; but these were sweet to hear nevertheless. I knew myself the centre of all eyes, and it elated me. So too did the tingling flavour of the one gla.s.s of sparkling wine I drank to my fortunes. Immediately upon this silent toast of Lady Landale to herself, Rupert rose and in choice words and silver-ringing voice proposed the health of the bride and bridegroom. There was a merry bustling pause while the gla.s.ses were filled; then rising to their feet as with one man, all the gentlemen stood with br.i.m.m.i.n.g goblets one instant extended, the next emptied to the last drop; and then the cheers rang out, swelling up the rafters, three times three, seeming to carry my soul along with them. I felt my heart expand and throb with an emotion I never knew in it before, which seemed to promise vast future capacities of pain and delight. I turned to my husband instinctively; looking for, expecting, I could not explain why, an answering fire in his eyes. This was the last moment of my illusions.

From thence they began to shrivel away with a terrifying rapidity.

Adrian sat with a face that looked old and lined and grey; with haggard unseeing eyes gazing forth into s.p.a.ce as though fixing some invisible and spectre show. He seemed as if wrapt in a world of his own, to which none of us had entrance; least of all, I, his wife.

The shouts around us died away, there were cries upon him for "Speech--speech," then playful queries--"How is this, Sir Adrian? So bashful, egad!" next nudges were exchanged, looks of wonder, and an old voice speaking broadly:

_"Yes, by George,"_ it was saying, _"I remember it well, by George, in this very room, now twenty years ago, 'Here, gentlemen,' says old Sir Tummas, 'Here's to Madam de Savenaye,' and gad, ma'am, we all yelled,--she was a lovely creature--Eh--Eh?"_

"Hush," said some one, and there was a running circle of frowns and the old voice ceased as abruptly as if its owner had been seized by the weasand. In the heavy embarra.s.sed silence, I caught Tanty's red perturbed look and Rupert's smile.

But Adrian sat on--like a ghost among the living, or a live man among the dead. And this was my gallant bridegroom! I seized him by the hand--"Are you ill, Adrian?"

He started and looked round at me--Oh that look! It seemed to burn into my soul, I shall never forget the hopelessness, the dull sadness of it, and then--I don't know what he read in my answering glance--the mute agonised question, followed by a terror.

"They want you to speak," I whispered, and shook the cold hand I held in a fury of impatience.

His lips trembled: he stared at me blankly. "My G.o.d, my G.o.d, what have I done?" he muttered to himself, "Cecile's child--Cecile's child!"

I could have burst out sobbing. But seeing Rupert's face bent down towards his plate, demure and solemn, yet stamped, for all his cleverness, with an almost devilish triumph, my pride rose and my courage. Every one else seemed to be looking towards us: I stood up.

"Good friends," I said, "I see that my husband is so much touched by the welcome that you are giving his bride, the welcome that you are giving him after his long exile from his house, that he is quite unable to answer you as he would wish. But lest you should misunderstand this silence of his, I am bold enough to answer you in his name, and--since it is but a few moments ago that you have seen us made one, I think I have the right to do so.... We thank you."

My heart was beating to suffocation--but I carried bravely on till I was drowned in a storm of acclamations to which the first cheers were as nothing.

They drank my health again, and again I heard the old gentleman of the indiscreet voice--I have learned since he is stone deaf, and I daresay he flattered himself he spoke in a whisper--proclaim that I was _my mother all over again: begad--so had she spoken to them twenty years ago in this very room!_

Here Tanty came to the rescue and carried me off.

I dared not trust myself to look at Adrian as I left, but I knew that he followed me to the door, from which I presumed that he had recovered his presence of mind in some degree.

Since that day we have been like two who walk along on opposite banks of a widening stream--ever more and more divided.

I have told no one of my despair. It is curious, but, little wifely as I feel towards him, there is something in me that keeps me back from the disloyalty of discussing my husband with other people.

And it is not even as it might have been--this is what maddens me. _We are always at cross purposes._ Some wilful spirit wakes in me, at the very sound of his voice (always gentle and restrained, and echoing of past sadness); under his mild, tender look; at the every fresh sign of his perpetual watchful anxiety--I give him wayward answers, frowning greetings, sighs, pouts; I feel at times a savage desire to wound, to anger him, and as far as I dare venture I have ventured, yet could not rouse in him one spark, even of proper indignation.

The word of the riddle lay in that broken exclamation of his at our wedding feast.

"Cecile's child!"