Part 39 (1/2)
”The torrent's smoothness ere it dash below.”
The mist obscured and saddened the few lights scattered on either side the water. And a deep and gloomy quiet brooded round;
”The very houses seemed asleep, And all that mighty heart was lying still.”
Arousing himself from his short and sombre reverie, Aram resumed his way, and threading some of the smaller streets on the opposite side of the water, arrived at last in the street in which he was to seek Houseman.
It was a narrow and dark lane, and seemed altogether of a suspicious and disreputable locality. One or two samples of the lowest description of alehouses broke the dark silence of the spot;--from them streamed the only lights which a.s.sisted the single lamp that burned at the entrance of the alley; and bursts of drunken laughter and obscene merriment broke out every now and then from these wretched theatres of Pleasure As Aram pa.s.sed one of them, a crowd of the lowest order of ruffian and harlot issued noisily from the door, and suddenly obstructed his way; through this vile press reeking with the stamp and odour of the most repellent character of vice was the lofty and cold Student to force his path! The darkness, his quick step, his downcast head, favoured his escape through the unhallowed throng, and he now stood opposite the door of a small and narrow house. A ponderous knocker adorned the door, which seemed of uncommon strength, being thickly studded with large nails. He knocked twice before his summons was answered, and then a voice from within, cried, ”Who's there? What want you?”
”I seek one called Houseman.”
No answer was returned--some moments elapsed. Again the Student knocked, and presently he heard the voice of Houseman himself call out, ”Who's there--Joe the Cracksman?”
”Richard Houseman, it is I,” answered Aram, in a deep tone, and suppressing the natural feelings of loathing and abhorrence.
Houseman uttered a quick exclamation; the door was hastily unbarred All within was utterly dark; but Aram felt with a thrill of repugnance, the gripe of his strange acquaintance on his hand.
”Ha! it is you!--Come in, come in!--let me lead you. Have a care--cling to the wall--the right hand--now then--stay. So--so”--(opening the door of a room, in which a single candle, wellnigh in its socket, broke on the previous darkness;) ”here we are! here we are! And, how goes it--eh!”
Houseman, now bustling about, did the honours of his apartment with a sort of complacent hospitality. He drew two rough wooden chairs, that in some late merriment seemed to have been upset, and lay, c.u.mbering the unwashed and carpetless floor, in a position exactly contrary to that destined them by their maker;--he drew these chairs near a table strewed with drinking horns, half-emptied bottles, and a pack of cards. Dingy caricatures of the large coa.r.s.e fas.h.i.+on of the day, decorated the walls; and carelessly thrown on another table, lay a pair of huge horse-pistols, an immense shovel hat, a false moustache, a rouge-pot, and a riding-whip. All this the Student comprehended with a rapid glance--his lip quivered for a moment--whether with shame or scorn of himself, and then throwing himself on the chair Houseman had set for him, he said, ”I have come to discharge my part of our agreement.”
”You are most welcome,” replied Houseman, with that tone of coa.r.s.e, yet flippant jocularity, which afforded to the mien and manner of Aram a still stronger contrast than his more unrelieved brutality.
”There,” said Aram, giving him a paper; ”there you will perceive that the sum mentioned is secured to you, the moment you quit this country.
When shall that be? Let me entreat haste.”
”Your prayer shall be granted. Before day-break to-morrow, I will be on the road.”
Aram's face brightened.
”There is my hand upon it,” said Houseman, earnestly. ”You may now rest a.s.sured that you are free of me for life. Go home--marry--enjoy your existence--as I have done. Within four days, if the wind set fair, I am in France.”
”My business is done; I will believe you,” said Aram, frankly, and rising.
”You may,” answered Houseman. ”Stay--I will light you to the door. Devil and death--how the d--d candle flickers.”
Across the gloomy pa.s.sage, as the candle now flared--and now was dulled--by quick fits and starts,--Houseman, after this brief conference, reconducted the Student. And as Aram turned from the door, he flung his arms wildly aloft, and exclaimed in the voice of one, from whose heart a load is lifted--”Now, now, for Madeline. I breathe freely at last.”
Meanwhile, Houseman turned musingly back, and regained his room, muttering, ”Yes--yes--my business here is also done! Competence and safety abroad--after all, what a bugbear is this conscience!--fourteen years have rolled away--and lo! nothing discovered! nothing known! And easy circ.u.mstances--the very consequence of the deed--wait the remainder of my days:--my child, too--my Jane--shall not want--shall not be a beggar nor a harlot.”
So musing, Houseman threw himself contentedly on the chair, and the last flicker of the expiring light, as it played upward on his rugged countenance--rested on one of those self-hugging smiles, with which a sanguine man contemplates a satisfactory future.
He had not been long alone, before the door opened; and a woman with a light in her hand appeared. She was evidently intoxicated, and approached Houseman with a reeling and unsteady step.
”How now, Bess? drunk as usual. Get to bed, you she shark, go!”
”Tush, man, tus.h.!.+ don't talk to your betters,” said the woman, sinking into a chair; and her situation, disgusting as it was, could not conceal the rare, though somewhat coa.r.s.e beauty of her face and person.
Even Houseman, (his heart being opened, as it were, by the cheering prospects of which his soliloquy had indulged the contemplation,) was sensible of the effect of the mere physical attraction, and drawing his chair closer to her, he said in a tone less harsh than usual.
”Come, Bess, come, you must correct that d--d habit of yours; perhaps I may make a lady of you after all. What if I were to let you take a trip with me to France, old girl, eh? and let you set off that handsome face, for you are devilish handsome, and that's the truth of it, with some of the French gewgaws you women love. What if. I were? would you be a good girl, eh?”