Part 62 (1/2)
”What does he mean by that?” inquired I of the boy who delivered the message--an intelligent little urchin, who was evidently well up in the whole affair, and appeared highly delighted at the trust reposed in him, to say nothing of the harvest of sixpences his various missions produced him.
”Vy, sir, he means that the gamekeeper has had two extra a.s.sistants allowed him since you vos there the other day, sir, and they has strict orders to take hup anybody as they finds in the park, sir.”
”They need not alarm themselves,” replied I; ”I shall not intrude upon their domain again in a hurry. Now look out, and let me know when Peter Barnett is coming.”
So saying, I gave him the wished-for sixpence, and with a grin of satisfaction he departed.
With leaden feet the hours crawled along, and still old Peter Barnett did not make his appearance; when, about twelve o'clock, a horseman pa.s.sed by, followed by a groom. As he rode at a very quiet pace, his face was easily recognised, and I saw at a glance it was Mr. Vernor.
Fortunately he never looked towards the window at which I was standing, or he must have seen me. Scarcely ten minutes had elapsed, when old Peter arrived, breathless from the speed at which he had come; his grotesque but expressive features gleaming with delight and sagacity, while his merry little eyes danced and twinkled as if they would jump out of their sockets. Rea.s.sured, in spite of myself, by his manner, I exclaimed, as I closed the parlour -412-- door behind him, ”Well, Peter; speak out, man--what is it?”
”Oh! my breath!” was the reply, ”running don't suit old legs like it does young uns. I say, sir, did ye see _him_ go by?”
”I saw Mr. Vernor pa.s.s a few minutes since,” replied I.
”Ah! that's what I've been a-waiting for; we're safe from him for the next four hours: he didn't see you, did he?”
”No,” returned I, ”he was fortunately looking another way.”
”Well, it's all right then, everything's all right; oh! lor, I'm so happy.”
”It's more than I am,” replied I angrily; for feeling convinced that nothing could have occurred materially to affect the position in which Clara and I stood towards each other, the old man's joy grated harshly on my gloomy state of mind, and I began to attribute his excessive hilarity to the influence of the ale-tap. ”You will drive me frantic with your ridiculous and unseasonable mirth. If you have anything to communicate likely to relieve my sorrow and anxiety, in the name of common sense speak out, man.”
”I beg your pardon, sir; I was so happy myself, I was forgetting you: I've got so much to tell you, I don't know where to begin rightly; but, however, here goes--to the right-about face! March!” He then proceeded to give me, with much circ.u.mlocution, which I will mercifully spare the reader, the following account. After he had left me at the conclusion of our last interview, feeling, as he said, ”more wretcheder” than he had ever done before, in going through the park, he observed two persons, a man and a woman, in close conversation; on his approach they separated, but not until he had been able to recognise Wilford, and one of the female servants, Clara's personal attendant. ”This,” as he continued, ”set him a-thinking,” and the result of his cogitations occasioned the mysterious hint thrown out to me in his note. On receiving my letter for Clara, he found an opportunity of delivering it in person, inquiring, when he did so, both when she had last heard from, and written to, me; at the same time informing her that he had a very particular reason for asking. He then learned what he had more than suspected from the interview he had witnessed in the park, namely, that since Wilford had been in the house, she had not only never received one of my letters, but had written to me more than once to ascertain the -413-- cause of such an unaccountable silence. These letters she had, as usual, given to her maid to convey to Peter Barnett; and the girl, cajoled and bribed by Wilford, had evidently given them to him instead. This induced Peter, as he expressed it, ”to open his heart to his young mistress,” and with deep contrition he confessed to her the suspicions he had entertained of her fickleness, how he had communicated them to me, and how circ.u.mstances had forced me to believe them. Clara, naturally much distressed and annoyed by this information, blamed him for not having spoken to her sooner, a.s.sured him that he had wronged her deeply in imagining such things, and desired him somewhat haughtily to lose no time in undeceiving Mr. Fairlegh. He then inquired whether she wished to send any answer to my note; on which she read it through with a quivering lip, and replied, ”Yes, tell him, that as he finds it so easy to believe evil of me, I agree with him that it will be better our acquaintance should terminate”. She then motioned to him to leave the room, and he was obliged to obey; but, glancing at her as he closed the door, he perceived that she had covered her face with her hands, and was weeping bitterly. He next set to work with the waiting-maid, and by dint of threats of taking her before Mr. Vernor, and promises, if she confessed all, that he would intercede with Clara for her forgiveness, he elicited from her the whole truth--namely, that by the joint influence of bribes and soft speeches, Wilford had induced her to hand over to him her mistress's letters, and that he had detained every one either to or from me. ”Well, sir,” continued he, ”that was not such a bad day's work altogether, but I ain't been idle since. Mr. Fleming, or Wilford, as you says he is, started off the first thing this morning for London, and ain't c.u.mming back till the day after to-morrow; so, thinks I, we'll turn the tables upon you, my boy, for once--that ere letter dodge was very near a-ruining us, I wonder how it will hact the t'other way: and a lucky thought it was too, Muster Fairlegh, for sich a scheme of willainy as I've descivered all dewised against poor dear Miss Clara--”
”A scheme against Miss Saville!” exclaimed I; ”what do you mean?”
”I'm a-going to tell you, sir, only you're in such a hurry, you puts me out. After the thought as I was a-mentioning c.u.m into my head, off I w -414-- with you, ain't ye?' 'Let's look, my man,' says I, peeping over him as he sorted the letters. Presently he c.u.m to one as seemed to puzzle him. 'W. I. L.,' says he, 'W.I. L. F.--' 'Oh!' says I, 'that's the gent as is a-stay-ing at our 'ouse, give us 'old on it.' 'And here's one for Mr. Wernor, and that's all,' says he, and he guv me the letter and walked off. 'That's right, Peter,' says I to myself, 'we shall know a little more of the henemy's movements, now we've captivated some of their private despatches, by a _coo-dur-mang_, as the Mounseers call it; 'so I locks myself into the pantry, and sits down, and breaks the seal.”
”You opened the letter!” exclaimed I.
”In course I did; how was I to read it if I hadn't? all's fair in love and war, you know--the blessed Duke of Wellington served Bony so many a time, I'll be bound; besides, hadn't he opened Miss Clara's, the blackguard? Well, sir, I read it, and it's lucky as I did; oh! he's a bad un, he's a deal wickeder than Muster Richard hisself, and that's saying something--it's from a Captain --”
”Really, Peter, I cannot avail myself of information obtained in such a manner,” interrupted I.
”Ah! but you must though,” was the reply, ”if you want to prevent this black willain from carrying off Miss Clara, and marrying her, _nolus bolus_.”
”Carrying off Miss Clara! what do you mean?”
”I was a-going to tell you,” returned old Peter, with a cunning grin, producing a crumpled letter, ”only' you wouldn't listen to me.”
As I (not being prepared with a satisfactory answer) remained silent, he smoothed the letter with his hand, and read as follows:--
”My dear Sir,--I was unfortunately out of town when your letter arrived, and it had to be sent after me; but I hope you will get this in time to prevent your having to come to London., which is unnecessary, as I have been able to carry out all your arrangements as you would wish. A carriage, with four horses, will be kept in readiness, so that it can be brought to any point you may direct at half an hour's notice. I presume you and I, with Wilson [that's his valet], are sufficient to carry off the girl--young lady, I mean, even if there be any papa or brother in the case, who would be the better for a little knocking down; but if you like more a.s.sistance, I can lay my hand on two or three sprightly lads, who would be very glad to make themselves useful. You are flying at high game this time. Do you really mean matrimony, or is it to be the -415-- old scheme, a mock marriage? I ask, because in the latter case I must look out for somebody to play parson. Wis.h.i.+ng you your usual luck,
”I remain, yours to command,
”Ferdinand Spicer, ”_Captain in the Bilboa Fencibles_.”