World's End Part 32

His coming was very natural. He could not understand why he did not hear from Violet. He had written to her fully twenty times, addressing his letters to The Towers, and had received no answer. This greatly alarmed him, and he resolved to go down and see her. All these letters were meantime at the General Post Office in London.

Lady Agnes, determined to cut off every connection with Malet and Violet, had given the servants strict orders not to take in any letters addressed to either of them. Aymer's letters, therefore, went back to the local post office, and from thence to London, and doubtless in due time they would have returned to him.

When he found himself with seventy pounds in his pocket, he had taken a better lodging, having previously written to Violet to apprise her of his removal, but as she never had his letter, her note to him was delivered at the old address, and Aymer's old landlady, irritated at his leaving her, coolly put it on the fire.

Violet had only written once, for she too was astonished, and a little hurt, because Aymer did not write to her, and in addition, she had been much disturbed by the great fire and the trial of poor Jenkins. The upshot was, that Aymer leaving his monotonous labour in the London churches, took train and came down to the nearest station to The Towers.

Never doubting his reception, he drove up to the mansion, and was surprised beyond measure when the servants, respectfully and regretfully, but firmly announced that Lady Lechester would not see him.

Where was Miss Waldron? Miss Waldron had left--the newspaper said she was at Belthrop, but that was a day or two ago.

Bewildered, and not a little upset, Aymer mechanically turned on his heel--he had dismissed his fly at the park gates--and set out to walk to Belthrop. He had almost reached that very little wicket-gate where Lady Lechester had met the apparition of Cornet De Warren, when he heard a voice calling his name, and saw a gentleman hastily following him. It was Theodore, who had requested the servants, and enforced his request by a bribe, to at once inform him when Mr Malet called.

Theodore had a difficult task before him; but he approached it with full confidence in himself. Without a moment's delay he introduced himself as Marese Baskette's cousin, and at once noted the change that pa.s.sed over Aymer's countenance. Ah!--then Mr Malet was aware of the previous intimacy that had existed between him and Mr Baskette? That intimacy was now at an end. He frankly admitted that he had come to The Towers in the interest of Marese; but upon his arrival he had heard, to his intense surprise, of Mr Malet's discovery of the Waldron claim. To him that claim appeared indisputable: he had written as much to Mr Baskette, and the consequence was a quarrel. They had parted: and he was now endeavouring to persuade Lady Lechester to break off her a.s.sociation with that man.

He had heard with great interest the career of Mr Malet--he had seen his book; and while he regretted his misfortunes, he rejoiced that circ.u.mstances enabled him to offer Mr Malet a most lucrative and remunerative post--a post that would at once give him ease and leisure to promote his literary labours; which would supply him with funds to continue his researches into the Waldron claims--and perhaps to bring the guilty to justice; which would even--this in a delicate manner--it would even permit of an immediate union with Miss Waldron.

Further, as this post was in the city of Stirmingham, Mr Malet would be on the very spot, and within easy reach of London. The only difficulty was that it required Mr Malet's immediate presence in Stirmingham, as it would be necessary to fill the place at once. Probably from the direction of Mr Malet's steps he was on his way to visit Belthrop, and to congratulate the truly heroic Miss Waldron upon her gallant attempt to save an innocent man from punishment. At the same time, perhaps, Mr Malet would really serve Miss Waldron's interest better by at once proceeding to Stirmingham that very afternoon with Theodore.

What was this post? Mr Malet had been in Stirmingham, and was aware that he (Theodore) had inherited a very large asylum for the insane there. As he was himself averse to the science of the mind, he had rarely resided on his property, but left the chief management to a physician, and the accounts to a secretary. His secretary had left about a month ago, and the affairs were in much confusion. He had great pleasure in offering Mr Malet the place. The salary was seven hundred and fifty pounds per annum, and residence. This residence was sufficiently large for a married man.

Aymer modestly objected that he was hardly fit for so important a trust.

Theodore said that he had read his book, and a man who was capable of writing like that was capable of anything. Besides, he had heard of his ability while in Mr Broughton's service.

The end was that Aymer accepted the engagement, as indeed he could hardly refuse it. Still he wished to see Violet. That was certainly unfortunate; but could not Mr Malet write from the railway station and send it by a messenger. On arrival in Stirmingham, and taking possession of his place of trust, Mr Malet could at once write to Miss Waldron to come, and there was plenty of room at the asylum, and more than one respectable matron residing there with whom she could remain until the marriage could take place. He was so sorry that Lady Lechester cherished a prejudice against Mr Malet--that would wear off-- he had done his best to remove it. Still, at present, Mr Malet was not welcome at The Towers. Would he so far stretch politeness as to stroll gently on the road to the station? He (Theodore) would speedily overtake him with a carriage.

An hour and a half afterwards Theodore and Aymer were _en route_ to Stirmingham. Theodore had explained his sudden departure by a telegram.

He had received a telegram, it was true, as he constantly did; but it was as usual a Stock Exchange report of no importance.

From the station Aymer sent a short note to Violet at Belthrop, by special messenger, acquainting her with his good fortune.

They reached Stirmingham the same evening, and next day Aymer was formally installed in possession of a bundle of papers, ledgers, and account books, which he was to balance up. He was shown the secretary's residence--a fine house, closely adjoining the asylum--and at night he wrote a glowing letter to Violet, enclosing money to pay her fare first-cla.s.s, and begging her to come at once.

On the second morning came a note telling him that she should start that very day, and full of joyful antic.i.p.ations. She would arrive towards night. Aymer dined with Theodore, and took wine with him afterwards.

Presently he rose to prepare to go to the railway and meet Violet. He reached his private room with a singular sensation in the head, a swimming in his eyes, and a dryness of the tongue. He plunged his face in cold water to recover himself; but it seemed to increase the disorder. His head seemed to swell to an enormous size, and yet to grow extremely light, till it felt like an inflated balloon, and seemed as if it would lift him to the ceiling. Sitting down to try and steady himself, he fancied that the chair rose in the air, and cried out in alarm. He managed to pull the bell, and then felt as if he was carried away to an immense distance, and could look down upon his body in the room beneath.

A servant answered the bell, who stared at him, smiled, and said--"Ah, your fit's on at last." Aymer's last consciousness was that he was talking very fast, without exactly knowing what he was saying. After that there was a blank.

Meantime Violet was met by Theodore Marese at the railway station; and a message in cipher flew along the wires to a certain club in London.

Marese Baskette breathed again, for the cipher read--"They are here." A simple sentence, but enough.

VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER NINE.

A fashionable London newspaper came out one morning with the statement that a marriage had been arranged in high life, and that preparations were already in progress. J. Marese Baskette, Esq, of Stirmingham, and Lady Agnes Lechester were to be shortly united in holy matrimony. This announcement was of the very greatest value to Marese. Not all the wealth, or reputed wealth he possessed--not even the honour of representing so important a city, could obtain for him the position in society which was secured by an alliance with the blue blood of Lechester. His money affairs wore at once a more roseate aspect.

It was well known that Lady Lechester owned large estates, and they were naturally reported to be even larger than they were. It was whispered abroad that, under careful nursing, certain inc.u.mbrances had been paid off, and that the rent-roll was now something extremely heavy even for England, the land of long rent-rolls.

People who had previously fought a little shy of the handsome heir, and asked hard terms to discount his paper, now pressed forward, and were anxious to obtrude their services. At the clubs, persons who had affected to ignore the richest man in the world as a matter of principle, on account of his ign.o.ble descent, now began to acknowledge his existence, and to extend the tips of their aristocratic fingers. It was remembered that the doubts and difficulties which had beset his claim to the vast Stirmingham estate like a dark cloud, had of late in great part cleared away. The family council had "burst up," and there were really no compet.i.tors in the field. Marese Baskette, Esq, in the course of a year or two, so soon as the law affairs could be settled, would be the richest man in the world.

At the clubs they freely discussed his wealth. When realised it would put the Rothschilds, and Coutts, and Barings, and all the other famous names--the Astors of New York and even the princes of India--into the shade.

Stirmingham, the busiest city in England, surrounded with a triple belt of iron furnaces, undermined with hundreds of miles of coal galleries, was it possible to estimate the value of that wonderful place? Why, the estate in the time of old Sternhold Baskette was roughly put at twenty millions sterling--that was thirty years ago or more--what must it be worth now? There really was no calculating it. Suppose he got but one quarter of what he was ent.i.tled to--say property worth only five millions--there was a fine thing. What on earth had the ladies been thinking of all these years that they had not secured so rich a prize?

Lady Lechester was not a little envied. County families and others, from whom she had kept aloof for years, overlooked the disrespect, and called upon her with their congratulations. Invitations poured in upon her; the whole county talked of nothing else but Lady Lechester's wedding; even the great fire was forgotten.

In London circles the name of Agnes Lechester, which from long retirement had almost dropped out of memory, was revived, and the old story of the attachment to the dragoon and his untimely end in the East, was dug up and sent on its way from mansion to mansion. It was nothing but pride that made her refuse poor De Warren who was a handsomer man than Baskette, and came of quite as good a family as her own. However, fortune seemed to favour these creatures--why, she must be five-and-thirty; five-and-thirty, ay, closer on forty; older than Marese--much older.

To Agnes, all the conversation that went on around, and the echo of which reached her, was happiness itself. The intense pride and ambition of her nature, which had partly kept her in retirement, blazed out in all its native vigour. Her step was slow and stately; her manner grew cold and haughty; her conversation distant. When poor old Jenkins's wife came with the ancient Bible, she bought it, indeed, and put it on the library table, but barely looked at it. Six months before she would have criticised it carefully, and entered a descriptive record of it in the catalogue which she kept with her own hand. Now it was disdainfully tossed upon one side.

A point that was sometimes discussed between these formal and distant lovers was the place of their future residence, and as Lady Lechester hated The Towers, and Marese said that the country house near Stirmingham had of late been closely approached by the coal mines, it was finally settled that they should reside in a mansion near Regent's Park, which belonged to Lady Lechester, until Marese could build a suitable place. This he announced his intention of doing upon a magnificent scale.

It was singular that old Sternhold, whose life was spent in adding stone to stone and brick to brick, had never contemplated the idea of building himself a palace.

His son determined to surpa.s.s all the mansions of England; and the plans, when once they had been decided upon, were sent down to Lady Lechester for her approval. They were placed upon a table in the reception room, so that every visitor who called could not avoid seeing them; and it became one of the pleasures of Agnes' daily life to point out the beauties of the new mansion, and to show her own sketches for improvements. To such littleness did this once n.o.ble and generous nature descend. The Stirmingham estate seemed to be endowed with the power of degrading every character that came into contact with it.

It was understood that Lady Lechester was to lay the first stone of this grand mansion when they returned from the wedding trip. They were to go to Italy, and make excursions in the Mediterranean in Marese's yacht _Gloire de Dijon_, the name of which he now altered to _Agnes_.

Marese's life at this time was one long continued triumph. The only danger that had threatened him was crushed; both Aymer and Violet were in safe keeping.

Theodore was still at Stirmingham watching them; perhaps a sterner keeper than Theodore might turn the key upon one or both ere long. He set his teeth firmly with a frown as he thought of that possibility.

Marese was not the man to be threatened with impunity. At all events they were quite safe for a good length of time--till long after his marriage. The marriage once over and he feared nothing. No scandal could seriously injure him after that. He should be secured with a triple wall of bra.s.s--of wealth, power, position.

The property at Stirmingham was falling into his hands like an over-ripe pear. Let the companies strive how they might, they could no longer discover any pretext to delay its surrender. The American claimants had vanished into the distance--that great dread had departed. He had paid off in hard cash a large share of the claims the building societies made upon him, for expenses they had incurred in improving the property. He had obtained a rule that the remainder of the claims should be discharged by instalments; and as now in a short time he should enjoy almost unlimited credit, there would be no difficulty in raising the necessary sums.

With other societies he had corresponded; with the Corporation he was on the best of terms, having used his influence in Parliament already to pa.s.s a private bill of theirs, and they had no legal power to prevent his seizure of his rights. With the rest of his creditors he was not only on good terms--he was pressed to borrow more. Literally he felt himself, as he surveyed his monetary affairs, the richest man in the world.

Another success came to him. He had delivered his maiden speech in the House, and whether it really was clever or appropriate, or whether people were predisposed in his favour, certain it was that it had produced an impression. The papers were full of it; the reviewers considered it an omen of an honourable parliamentary career. It was quoted from one end of the kingdom to the other. His party begun to cast an eye upon him. Here was that rare combination--a rich man with talent. Could they not turn him to account?

Then came the announcement of the engagement with Lechester, and they went a step further, and said something must be done. Something was forthwith done. An office was offered to him--not a high office, nor very remunerative, but still an office; and one only a degree beneath that of a Minister. It was well understood that no man ever filled that post without subsequently becoming a Minister. It was a kind of political cadetship. Marese accepted the office, and wrote to Lady Lechester, who saw in this a new proof of the career in store for her; and he received in reply the warmest note he had hitherto had.

Lastly, he was about to marry into one of the oldest families in England. This marriage was the sure and certain prelude to a coronet; not that he would take it till he had exhausted his powers, and felt it time to retire to the House of Lords. Yet it was this marriage that alone caused any anxiety to Marese. He grew, for him, nervously anxious as the time approached. It certainly was not affection for her personally; it was the extraordinary good fortune which now smiled upon him. Once a gamester--still largely gambling upon the Stock Exchange-- he had imbibed a little of the superst.i.tion of the race. Hard as he was--cool, self-possessed, and equal to any emergency--there arose in his mind a certain feverish eagerness to get it over; not sufficient to curtail his rest, or cause him to exhibit any outward sign, or even to diminish his glory in his success; but there was just this dash of uncertain bitter in the cup that was rising to his lip. He dared not hurry on the ceremony, knowing Lady Lechester's temperament too well: he must await the arrival of the date that she herself had fixed.

There was some little difficulty at The Towers as to where the marriage should take place. The church at Bury Wick was the natural resort, easiest of access, and nearest; but Agnes, even in her pride and self-will, could not altogether make up her mind to be married in that church. The memory of the wedding-party so strangely and fearfully interrupted there, had not yet died away. It would seem like a bad omen to be married there.

Barnham was so far, and the vicar a Low Churchman, and not to her taste.

Marese suggested Stirmingham: but no, that would not do. My lady would be married from her own ancestral Towers; and finally hit upon the plan of resuscitating the ancient family chapel at The Towers, and having the ceremony performed in it. This could be done by a special licence: which, of course, was no obstacle. It was true that she disliked and even hated The Towers; but the pride of family and long descent overcame that feeling. She would be married in the old chapel. Accordingly, workmen were sent for, and the sound of hammer and plane resounded through the place. The chapel, disused ever since the Lechesters left the Church of Rome--about a century ago--was completely renovated, cleaned, painted, gilded, and adorned in every possible manner.

Time flew, and Agnes' pen was busy in marking the list of names of those who were eligible to receive an invitation to the marriage. The dresses were ordered. Agnes was very hard to please--even a simple village maiden likes to exercise her choice for that once in her life. Judge, then, of the difficulty of pleasing the mistress of The Towers, soon to be the richest lady in the world. Nothing was good enough: the orders were countermanded day after day, and nothing but the enormous sums that were to be expended could have reconciled the tradesmen to her incessant caprices.

Yet through all this loud sound of preparation, through all this silk and satin, through everything that could be devised to make the heart content, there penetrated a trouble. Agnes would at times retire to her private room, and remain secluded for hours. After these solitary fits her step was slower, and her countenance pale and melancholy, till she gradually recovered herself. She had broken off her habit of visiting the Kickwell Pot. It had been a great trial to her to do so; but she had at last firmly made up her mind, and had conquered the singular fascination which drew her thither. She had decided upon the earthly career: she would close her eyes to the immortal one. But the memory of the spirit was not so easily effaced: she mused on its shape, its graceful, swaying elegance of motion, the glow in its wonderful eyes, and felt at times the thrill of its electric touch. It required immense strength of mind to resist the temptation to converse once more with her phantom-lover.

Who that had for a moment contemplated the proud and happy position of Lady Lechester, the observed of all observers, would have credited that such a hankering, such an extraordinary belief, still possessed her mind?

Time flew, and there remained but one brief week till the marriage day.

Marese was to come to The Towers on the morrow, and stay till the day previous to the ceremony when he was, in obedience to the old etiquette, to sleep at Barnham. For one day only would she be alone at The Towers.

Marese came; the hours flew; some little warmth infused itself even into their cold intercourse. Just before dinner he left The Towers for Barnham. After dark, Lady Agnes went out alone, wrapped in her plaid shawl, and made her way to "The Pot."

The morrow was her wedding-day, yet the old fascination had conquered-- she could not resist it. Once more, for the last time, she would look upon the face of that glorious being, and beg his forgiveness. It was May now--beautiful May. The beech trees were covered with foliage, the air was soft and warm, and there was a delicate odour at times of the hawthorn blossom borne upon the gentle breeze. Only in places there was a low white mist, a dew hanging like a light cloud a few feet above the earth. A thin column of such a mist hung over the mouth of "The Pot,"