The String of Pearls; Or, The Barber of Fleet Street. A Domestic Romance.
"Why, this, my dear, is Bell-yard we have strolled into; and that is the
famous pie-shop of which they talk so much. They say the woman has made
an immense fortune by selling them."
As Ben made a kind of movement towards Mrs. Lovett's window, it was then
that Sir Richard Blunt, who had followed him and Arabella Wilmot from
Fleet-street, and who had, in fact, overheard some portion of their
conversation, stepped up in the manner that Mrs. Lovett had remarked
from within the shop.
* * * * *
We have before stated that the three personages, consisting of the
magistrate, big Ben the beef-eater, and Arabella Wilmot, walked to
Fleet-street together from Bell-yard. Sir Richard Blunt shook his head
at Arabella Wilmot, as he said--
"Miss Wilmot, I cannot help saying that it would have been better in
every respect, and possibly much more conducive to the safety of Miss
Oakley, if you had gone home quietly, and not lingered about
Fleet-street."
"I could not go, sir."
"But yet a consideration for Miss Oakley's safety should have induced
you to put that violence upon your own feelings."
"I felt that when once you, sir, had pledged yourself for her safety,
that safe she was; and that my weeping perchance in a doorway in
Fleet-street could not be so important as to compromise her."
"I am fairly enough answered," said Sir Richard Blunt, with a slight
smile. "But what say you to coming with me to the Temple?"
"The Temple?"
Arabella cast a lingering look towards Todd's shop, which Sir Richard at
once translated, and replied to it by saying--
"Fear nothing for your young friend. She knows she is protected; but
even she does not know the extent to which she is so protected. I tell
you, Miss Wilmot, that I pledge my own life for her safety--and that,
although to all seeming she is in the power of Todd, such is not the
case."
"Indeed?"
"I have a force of no less than twenty-five men in Fleet-street now--one
half of whom have their eyes upon Todd's shop. By Heaven! I would not
have a hair of that young and noble girl's head injured for the worth of
this great kingdom!"
"Bravo!" cried Ben, as he seized Sir Richard by the hand, and gave it a
squeeze that nearly brought the tears into the eyes of the magistrate;
"bravo! that's what I like to hear. All's right. Bless you, sir, easy
does it. You are the man for my money!"
"Will you both come with me, then?"
"To be sure," said Ben; "to be sure; and as we go along, I'll tell you
what a sad mistake I made about Miss Arabella here. You must know that I
met her crying in Fleet-street, and she--"
Arabella shook her head, and frowned.
"And--and--and--she--nothing."
"Well," said Sir Richard, "I must confess I have heard anecdotes with a
little more point to them."
"You don't say so!" said Ben.
"I think I will go home," said Arabella, gently.
"If you will," replied the magistrate, "of course, I cannot say anything
to stay you; but I think it will be a great disappointment to Colonel
Jeffery not to meet with you to-day."
"Colonel Jeffery!" exclaimed Arabella, while her face became of the
colour of a rose-bud; "Colonel Jeffery?"
There was just the ghost of a smile upon the face of Sir Richard Blunt,
as he calmly replied--
"Yes; I am on my way to meet that gentleman in the garden of the Temple;
and I am sure he would be glad to see you."
"Glad to see me?"
"Yes, as so true a friend of Johanna's, he will be more than glad; he
will be delighted."
"Delighted?"
"Do you doubt the Colonel's friendly feeling towards you?"
"Oh no--no. I--no--certainly not."
"Then let me beg of you to come."
"No. Not now; I will go home. It will look particular for me to go to
the garden to meet him."
"It will look much more particular to refuse, I think, Miss Wilmot. You
are with me, and with your old friend, and Johanna's relative, Mr.
a--a--"
"They calls me Ben."
"Mr. Ben; and so you cannot refuse," he said, "to go to meet Colonel
Jeffery, you know. Come, come, I pray you come. Indeed, I know the
Colonel wishes to speak to you; and as it would be obviously out of
order for him to call upon you, I think you ought, seeing that you're
not alone, to give him, as a gentleman of wealth and honour, this
opportunity of doing so."
"You say, he wishes to speak to me?"
"He does, indeed. What do you say, Mr. Ben? Don't you think Miss Wilmot
might as well come with us?"
"Easy does it," said Ben, "and that's my opinion all the world over."
"Then allow me to look upon it that we have prevailed with you, Miss
Wilmot. Pray do me the favour to take my arm."
Arabella trembled, but she did take the arm of Sir Richard Blunt, and
made no further opposition to proceeding to that Temple Gardens, where
already such affecting interviews had taken place between the Colonel
and poor Johanna. The gardens appeared to be empty when they reached it,
but from behind some shrubs Colonel Jeffery in a moment made his
appearance, for Sir Richard, in consequence of his meeting with Ben and
Arabella, was considerably behind his time.
CHAPTER LXXVI.
ARABELLA AND THE COLONEL.
If any one had been looking at the face of Arabella Wilmot at this
particular juncture, and if the party so looking had chanced to be
learned in reading the various emotions of the heart from the expression
of the features, they might have chanced upon some curious revelations.
It was only one glance that Arabella gave to the Colonel, but that was
sufficient. A word slightly spoken, and in due season, may say more than
a volume of preaching; and so one transient glance, fleeting as a
sun-beam in an English April, may, with most eloquent meaning, preach a
sermon that would puzzle many a divine. But we have become so familiar
with the reader, and put ourselves upon such a cordial shake-hands sort
of feeling, in particular with you, Miss, who are now reading this
passage, that we will whisper a secret in your ear, and the more
readily, too, as to whisper we must come particularly close to that soft
downy cheek, and almost be able to look askance into those eyes in which
the light of Heaven seems dancing,--Arabella Wilmot is in love!
Yes, Arabella Wilmot is in love with Colonel Jeffery; and small blame to
her, as they say in Ireland, for is he not a gentleman in the true
acceptation of the term? Not a manufactured gentleman, but one of
nature's gentlemen.
You will have promised, my dear what's-your-name, that Arabella, to
herself even, has hardly confessed her feelings; but still they are
creeping upon her most insidiously as such feelings somehow or other
will and do creep.
To be sure, if any one were to stop her in the street or any where else
to say, "Arabella, you are in love with Colonel Jeffery," she would
say--"No, no, no!" many times over.
But yet it is true.
"You read it in her glistening eyes,
And thus alone should love be read:
She says it in her gentle sighs,
And thus alone should love be said."
After this, who will be hardy enough, my dear, to dispute the fact with
you and I?
And now we will watch her, ay, that we will, and see how she will behave
herself under such trying circumstances.
Colonel Jeffery advanced, and as in duty and gallantry called upon, he,
after slightly bowing to the gentlemen, spoke to Arabella.
"This is an unexpected pleasure, Miss Wilmot," he said. "I hope I see
you well. Here is a seat close at hand. May I have the pleasure of
conducting you to it?"
"Johanna is--is--is--" stammered Arabella.
"Well, I hope," interposed the colonel.
"Oh, no--no--that is, yes."
The colonel looked puzzled. He was not a conjurer, and so might look
puzzled, if he looked like any ordinary man, who hears any one say no,
and yes in the same breath, without any injury to his reputation.
"Mr. Ben," said Sir Richard Blunt, "I have something for your private
ear, if you will just step on with me."
"My private ear?" said Ben with a confused look, as if he would have
liked to add, "which is that?"
"Yes. This way if you please."
Ben walked on with the magistrate, and Colonel Jeffery was alone with
Arabella Wilmot. Yes, alone with the one person who insensibly had crept
into her affections. Alas! Is the pure love of that young creature
scattered to the winds? Is she one of those who drag about them in this
world the heavy chain of unrequited affection? We shall see. Arabella
had permitted the colonel to hand her to one of the garden-seats near at
hand. How could she prevent him? If he had chosen instead to hand her
into the river it would have been just the same, and she would have
gone. He led her by that wreath of flowers which in old Arcadia was
first linked by Cupid, and which, in all time since, has wound itself
around the hearts of all the boy-god's victims.
"Miss Wilmot," said the colonel, and now his voice faltered a little, "I
have much wished to see you."
"Very fine, indeed," said Arabella. "You said something about the
weather, did you not?"
"Not exactly," he said; "I had much wished to see you."
"Me?"
"Yes, and to begin at the beginning, you know I--I--loved Johanna
Oakley. Yes, I loved her."
"Yes--yes."
"I loved her for her beauty, and for the gentle and the chivalrous
devotion of her character, you understand. I loved her for the very
tears she shed for another, and for the very constancy with which she
clung to the memory of his affection for her. I saw in her such
child-like purity of mind, such generosity of disposition, such
enchanting humanity of soul, that I could not but love her."
"Yes, yes," gasped Arabella. "Yes."
"Will you pardon me for saying all this to you?"
"Oh yes. Go on--go on, unless you have said all?"
"I have not."
"Then, then you have only to add that you love her still?"
"Yes, but--"
Arabella's heart beat painfully.
"Ah," she said, "has true love any reservations? You love her, and yet
you have something else to say."
"I have. I love her still. But it is not as I loved her. She has
convinced me of her constancy to her first affection, that--that--"
"Yes, yes."
"That being so convinced, I now love her, but with that love a brother
might feel for a dear sister, and I almost think it was a kind of
preparation to try to awaken in the smouldering fires of her lost love a
new passion. She has made me feel that the love of woman once truly
awakened is an undying passion and can know no change--no extinction."
"True. Oh, how true!"
"I have learnt from her that when once the heart of a young and gentle
girl--one in whom there are no evil passions, no world-wise failings nor
earthly varieties--is touched by the holy flame of affection, it may
consume her being, but it never can be extinguished."
Arabella burst into tears.
"Love," added the colonel, "may be trodden down, but like truth it can
never be trodden out!"
"Never! never!" sobbed Arabella. "Let me go now! Oh, sir, let me go home
now?"
"One moment!"
She trembled, but she sat still.
"Only a moment, Arabella, while I tell you that man's love is different
from this. That man can reason upon his affections, and that when the
first beauty and excellence upon which he may cast his eyes is denied to
his arms, he can look for equal beauty--equal excellence--equal charms
of mind and person in another, and--"
Arabella tried to go, but somehow she felt spell-bound and could not
rise from that garden seat.
"And," added the colonel, "with as pure a passion, man can make an idol
of her who can be his, as he approached her who could not.--Miss Wilmot,
I love you!"
"Oh, no, no--Johanna."