Alice, or the Mysteries — Complete
strolled with his dogs into the village. The effect which the presence
of Maltravers produced among his peasantry was one that seldom failed
to refresh and soothe his more bitter and disturbed thoughts. They
had gradually (for the poor are quick-sighted) become sensible of his
_justice_,--a finer quality than many that seem more amiable. They felt
that his real object was to make them better and happier; and they had
learned to see that the means he adopted generally advanced the end.
Besides, if sometimes stern, he was never capricious or unreasonable;
and then, too, he would listen patiently and advise kindly. They were
a little in awe of him, but the awe only served to make them more
industrious and orderly,--to stimulate the idle man, to reclaim
the drunkard. He was one of the favourers of the small-allotment
system,--not, indeed, as panacea, but as one excellent stimulant to
exertion and independence; and his chosen rewards for good conduct were
in such comforts as served to awaken amongst those hitherto passive,
dogged, and hopeless a desire to better and improve their condition.
Somehow or other, without direct alms, the goodwife found that the
little savings in the cracked teapot or the old stocking had greatly
increased since the squire's return, while her husband came home from
his moderate cups at the alehouse more sober and in better temper.
Having already saved something was a great reason why he should save
more. The new school, too, was so much better conducted than the old
one; the children actually liked going there; and now and then there
were little village feasts connected with the schoolroom; play and work
were joint associations.
And Maltravers looked into his cottages, and looked at the
allotment-ground; and it was pleasant to him to say to himself, "I am
not altogether without use in life." But as he pursued his lonely walk,
and the glow of self-approval died away with the scenes that called it
forth, the cloud again settled on his brow; and again he felt that in
solitude the passions feed upon the heart. As he thus walked along the
green lane, and the insect life of summer rustled audibly among the
shadowy hedges and along the thick grass that sprang up on either side,
he came suddenly upon a little group that arrested all his attention.
It was a woman, clad in rags, bleeding, and seemingly insensible,
supported by the overseer of the parish and a labourer.
"What is the matter?" asked Maltravers.
"A poor woman has been knocked down and run over by a gentleman in a
gig, your honour," replied the overseer. "He stopped, half an hour ago,
at my house to tell me that she was lying on the road; and he has given
me two sovereigns for her, your honour. But, poor cretur! she was too
heavy for me to carry her, and I was forced to leave her and call Tom to
help me."
"The gentleman might have stayed to see what were the consequences
of his own act," muttered Maltravers, as he examined the wound in the
temple, whence the blood flowed copiously.
"He said he was in a great hurry, your honour," said the village
official, overhearing Maltravers. "I think it was one of the grand folks
up at the parsonage; for I know it was Mr. Merton's bay horse,--he is a
hot 'un!"
"Does the poor woman live in the neighbourhood? Do you know her?" asked
Maltravers, turning from the contemplation of this new instance of
Vargrave's selfishness of character.
"No; the old body seems quite a stranger here,--a tramper, or beggar, I
think, sir. But it won't be a settlement if we take her in; and we can
carry her to the Chequers, up the village, your honour."
"What is the nearest house,--your own?"
"Yes; but we be so busy now!"
"She shall not go to your house, and be neglected; and as for the
public-house, it is too noisy: we must move her to the Hall."
"Your honour!" ejaculated the overseer, opening his eyes.
"It is not very far; she is severely hurt. Get a hurdle, lay a mattress
on it. Make haste, both of you; I will wait here till you return."
The poor woman was carefully placed on the grass by the road-side,
and Maltravers supported her head, while the men hastened to obey his
orders.
CHAPTER III.
ALSE from that forked hill, the boasted seat
Of studious Peace and mild Philosophy,
Indignant murmurs mote be heard to threat.--WEST.
MR. CLEVELAND wanted to enrich one of his letters with a quotation from
Ariosto, which he but imperfectly remembered. He had seen the book he
wished to refer to in the little study the day before; and he quitted
the library to search for it.
As he was tumbling over some volumes that lay piled on the
writing-table, he felt a student's curiosity to discover what now
constituted his host's favourite reading. He was surprised to observe
that the greater portion of the works that, by the doubled leaf and the
pencilled reference, seemed most frequently consulted, were not of a
literary nature,--they were chiefly scientific; and astronomy seemed the
chosen science. He then remembered that he had heard Maltravers speaking
to a builder, employed on the recent repairs, on the subject of an
observatory. "This is very strange," thought Cleveland; "he gives up
literature, the rewards of which are in his reach, and turns to science,
at an age too late to discipline his mind to its austere training."
Alas! Cleveland did not understand that there are times in life when
imaginative minds seek to numb and to blunt imagination. Still less did
he feel that, when we perversely refuse to apply our active faculties to
the catholic interests of the world, they turn morbidly into channels of
research the least akin to their real genius. By the collision of
minds alone does each mind discover what is its proper product: left to
ourselves, our talents become but intellectual eccentricities.
Some scattered papers, in the handwriting of Maltravers, fell from one
of the volumes. Of these, a few were but algebraical calculations, or
short scientific suggestions, the value of which Mr. Cleveland's studies
did not enable him to ascertain; but in others they were wild snatches
of mournful and impassioned verse, which showed that the old vein of
poetry still flowed, though no longer to the daylight. These verses
Cleveland thought himself justified in glancing over; they seemed to
portray a state of mind which deeply interested, and greatly saddened
him. They expressed, indeed, a firm determination to bear up against
both the memory and the fear of ill; but mysterious and hinted allusions
here and there served to denote some recent and yet existent struggle,
revealed by the heart only to the genius. In these partial and imperfect
self-communings and confessions, there was the evidence of the pining
affections, the wasted life, the desolate hearth of the lonely man. Yet
so calm was Maltravers himself, even to his early friend, that Cleveland
knew not what to think of the reality of the feelings painted. Had that
fervid and romantic spirit been again awakened by a living object? If
so, where was the object found? The dates affixed to the verses were
most recent. But whom had Maltravers seen? Cleveland's thoughts turned
to Caroline Merton, to Evelyn; but when he had spoken of both, nothing
in the countenance, the manner, of Maltravers had betrayed emotion. And
once the heart of Maltravers had so readily betrayed itself! Cleveland
knew not how pride, years, and suffering school the features, and
repress the outward signs of what pass within. While thus engaged, the
door of the study opened abruptly, and the servant announced Mr. Merton.
"A thousand pardons," said the courteous rector. "I fear we disturb you;
but Admiral Legard and Lord Doltimore, who called on us this morning,
were so anxious to see Burleigh, I thought I might take the liberty. We
have come over quite in a large party,--taken the place by storm. Mr.
Maltravers is out, I hear; but you will let us see the house. My allies
are already in the hall, examining the armour."
Cleveland, ever sociable and urbane, answered suitably, and went with
Mr. Merton into the hall, where Caroline, her little sisters, Evelyn,
Lord Doltimore, Admiral Legard, and his nephew were assembled.
"Very proud to be my host's representative and your guide," said
Cleveland. "Your visit, Lord Doltimore, is indeed an agreeable surprise.
Lord Vargrave left us an hour or so since to call on you at Admiral
Legard's: we buy our pleasure with his disappointment."
"It is very unfortunate," said the admiral, a bluff, harsh-looking old
gentleman; "but we were not aware, till we saw Mr. Merton, of the honour
Lord Vargrave has done us. I can't think how we missed him on the road."
"My dear uncle," said Colonel Legard, in a peculiarly sweet and
agreeable tone of voice, "you forget we came three miles round by the
high road; and Mr. Merton says that Lord Vargrave took the short cut by
Langley End. My uncle, Mr. Cleveland, never feels in safety upon land,
unless the road is as wide as the British Channel, and the horses go
before the wind at the rapid pace of two knots and a half an hour!"
"I just wish I had you at sea, Mr. Jackanapes," said the admiral,
looking grimly at his handsome nephew, while he shook his cane at him.
The nephew smiled; and, falling back, conversed with Evelyn.
The party were now shown over the house; and Lord Doltimore was loud in
its praises. It was like a chateau he had once hired in Normandy,--it
had a French character; those old chairs were in excellent taste,--quite
the style of Francis the First.
"I know no man I respect more than Mr. Maltravers," quoth the admiral.
"Since he has been amongst us this time, he has been a pattern to us
country gentlemen. He would make an excellent colleague for Sir John. We
really must get him to stand against that young puppy who is member of
the House of Commons only because his father is a peer, and never votes
more than twice a session."
Mr. Merton looked grave.
"I wish to Heaven you could persuade him to stay amongst you," said
Cleveland. "He has half taken it into his head to part with Burleigh!"
"Part with Burleigh!" exclaimed Evelyn, turning abruptly from the
handsome colonel, in whose conversation she had hitherto seemed
absorbed.
"My very ejaculation when I heard him say so, my dear young lady."
"I wish he would," said Lord Doltimore hastily, and glancing towards
Caroline. "I should much like to buy it. What do you think would be the
purchase-money?"
"Don't talk so cold-bloodedly," said the admiral, letting the point of
his cane fall with great emphasis on the floor. "I can't bear to see old
families deserting their old places,--quite wicked. You buy Burleigh!
have not you got a country seat of your own, my lord? Go and live there,
and take Mr. Maltravers for your model,--you could not have a better."
Lord Doltimore sneered, coloured, settled his neckcloth, and turning
round to Colonel Legard, whispered, "Legard, your good uncle is a bore."
Legard looked a little offended, and made no reply.
"But," said Caroline, coming to the relief of her admirer, "if Mr.
Maltravers will sell the place, surely he could not have a better
successor."
"He sha'n't sell the place, ma'am, and that's poz!" cried the admiral.
"The whole county shall sign a round-robin to tell him it's a shame; and
if any one dares to buy it we'll send him to Coventry."
Miss Merton laughed, but looked round the old wainscot walls with
unusual interest; she thought it would be a fine thing to be Lady of
Burleigh!
"And what is that picture so carefully covered up?" said the admiral, as
they now stood in the library.
"The late Mrs. Maltravers, Ernest's mother," replied Cleveland, slowly.
"He dislikes it to be shown--to strangers: the other is a Digby."