Two on a Tower
with a light in her hand. 'What is the matter, Louis?' she said.
'I am greatly alarmed. Our visitor is missing.'
'Missing? What, Mr. St. Cleeve?'
'Yes. I was sitting up to finish a cigar, when I thought I heard a noise
in this direction. On coming to his room I find he is not there.'
'Good Heaven! I wonder what has happened!' she exclaimed, in apparently
intense alarm.
'I wonder,' said Glanville grimly.
'Suppose he is a somnambulist! If so, he may have gone out and broken
his neck. I have never heard that he is one, but they say that sleeping
in strange places disturbs the minds of people who are given to that sort
of thing, and provokes them to it.'
'Unfortunately for your theory his bed has not been touched.'
'Oh, what then can it be?'
Her brother looked her full in the face. 'Viviette!' he said sternly.
She seemed puzzled. 'Well?' she replied, in simple tones.
'I heard voices in your room,' he continued.
'Voices?'
'A voice,--yours.'
'Yes, you may have done so. It was mine.'
'A listener is required for a speaker.'
'True, Louis.'
'Well, to whom were you speaking?'
'God.'
'Viviette! I am ashamed of you.'
'I was saying my prayers.'
'Prayers--to God! To St. Swithin, rather!'
'What do you mean, Louis?' she asked, flushing up warm, and drawing back
from him. 'It was a form of prayer I use, particularly when I am in
trouble. It was recommended to me by the Bishop, and Mr. Torkingham
commends it very highly.'
'On your honour, if you have any,' he said bitterly, 'whom have you there
in your room?'
'No human being.'
'Flatly, I don't believe you.'
She gave a dignified little bow, and, waving her hand into the apartment,
said, 'Very well; then search and see.'
Louis entered, and glanced round the room, behind the curtains, under the
bed, out of the window--a view from which showed that escape thence would
have been impossible,--everywhere, in short, capable or incapable of
affording a retreat to humanity; but discovered nobody. All he observed
was that a light stood on the low table by her bedside; that on the bed
lay an open Prayer-Book, the counterpane being unpressed, except into a
little pit beside the Prayer Book, apparently where her head had rested
in kneeling.
'But where is St. Cleeve?' he said, turning in bewilderment from these
evidences of innocent devotion.
'Where can he be?' she chimed in, with real distress. 'I should so much
like to know. Look about for him. I am quite uneasy!'
'I will, on one condition: that you own that you love him.'
'Why should you force me to that?' she murmured. 'It would be no such
wonder if I did.'
'Come, you do.'
'Well, I do.'
'Now I'll look for him.'
Louis took a light, and turned away, astonished that she had not
indignantly resented his intrusion and the nature of his questioning.
At this moment a slight noise was heard on the staircase, and they could
see a figure rising step by step, and coming forward against the long
lights of the staircase window. It was Swithin, in his ordinary dress,
and carrying his boots in his hand. When he beheld them standing there
so motionless, he looked rather disconcerted, but came on towards his
room.
Lady Constantine was too agitated to speak, but Louis said, 'I am glad to
see you again. Hearing a noise, a few minutes ago, I came out to learn
what it could be. I found you absent, and we have been very much
alarmed.'
'I am very sorry,' said Swithin, with contrition. 'I owe you a hundred
apologies: but the truth is that on entering my bedroom I found the sky
remarkably clear, and though I told you that the observation I was to
make was of no great consequence, on thinking it over alone I felt it
ought not to be allowed to pass; so I was tempted to run across to the
observatory, and make it, as I had hoped, without disturbing anybody. If
I had known that I should alarm you I would not have done it for the
world.'
Swithin spoke very earnestly to Louis, and did not observe the tender
reproach in Viviette's eyes when he showed by his tale his decided notion
that the prime use of dark nights lay in their furtherance of practical
astronomy.
Everything being now satisfactorily explained the three retired to their
several chambers, and Louis heard no more noises that night, or rather
morning; his attempts to solve the mystery of Viviette's life here and
her relations with St. Cleeve having thus far resulted chiefly in
perplexity. True, an admission had been wrung from her; and even without
such an admission it was clear that she had a tender feeling for Swithin.
How to extinguish that romantic folly it now became his object to
consider.
XXXI
Swithin's midnight excursion to the tower in the cause of science led him
to oversleep himself, and when the brother and sister met at breakfast in
the morning he did not appear.
'Don't disturb him,--don't disturb him,' said Louis laconically. 'Hullo,
Viviette, what are you reading there that makes you flame up so?'
She was glancing over a letter that she had just opened, and at his words
looked up with misgiving.
The incident of the previous night left her in great doubt as to what her
bearing towards him ought to be. She had made no show of resenting his
conduct at the time, from a momentary supposition that he must know all
her secret; and afterwards, finding that he did not know it, it seemed
too late to affect indignation at his suspicions. So she preserved a
quiet neutrality. Even had she resolved on an artificial part she might
have forgotten to play it at this instant, the letter being of a kind to
banish previous considerations.
'It is a letter from Bishop Helmsdale,' she faltered.
'Well done! I hope for your sake it is an offer.'
'That's just what it is.'
'No,--surely?' said Louis, beginning a laugh of surprise.
'Yes,' she returned indifferently. 'You can read it, if you like.'
'I don't wish to pry into a communication of that sort.'
'Oh, you may read it,' she said, tossing the letter across to him.
Louis thereupon read as under:--
'THE PALACE, MELCHESTER,
_June_ 28, 18--.
'MY DEAR LADY CONSTANTINE,--During the two or three weeks that have
elapsed since I experienced the great pleasure of renewing my
acquaintance with you, the varied agitation of my feelings has clearly
proved that my only course is to address you by letter, and at once.
Whether the subject of my communication be acceptable to you or not, I
can at least assure you that to suppress it would be far less natural,
and upon the whole less advisable, than to speak out frankly, even if
afterwards I hold my peace for ever.
'The great change in my experience during the past year or two--the
change, that is, which has resulted from my advancement to a
bishopric--has frequently suggested to me, of late, that a
discontinuance in my domestic life of the solitude of past years was a
question which ought to be seriously contemplated. But whether I
should ever have contemplated it without the great good fortune of my
meeting with you is doubtful. However, the thing has been considered
at last, and without more ado I candidly ask if you would be willing
to give up your life at Welland, and relieve my household loneliness
here by becoming my wife.
'I am far from desiring to force a hurried decision on your part, and
will wait your good pleasure patiently, should you feel any
uncertainty at the moment as to the step. I am quite disqualified, by
habits and experience, for the delightful procedure of urging my suit
in the ardent terms which would be so appropriate towards such a lady,
and so expressive of my inmost feeling. In truth, a prosy cleric of
five-and-forty wants encouragement to make him eloquent. Of this,
however, I can assure you: that if admiration, esteem, and devotion
can compensate in any way for the lack of those qualities which might
be found to burn with more outward brightness in a younger man, those
it is in my power to bestow for the term of my earthly life. Your
steady adherence to church principles and your interest in
ecclesiastical polity (as was shown by your bright questioning on
those subjects during our morning walk round your grounds) have
indicated strongly to me the grace and appropriateness with which you
would fill the position of a bishop's wife, and how greatly you would
add to his reputation, should you be disposed to honour him with your
hand. Formerly there have been times when I was of opinion--and you
will rightly appreciate my candour in owning it--that a wife was an
impediment to a bishop's due activities; but constant observation has
convinced me that, far from this being the truth, a meet consort
infuses life into episcopal influence and teaching.
'Should you reply in the affirmative I will at once come to see you,
and with your permission will, among other things, show you a few
plain, practical rules which I have interested myself in drawing up
for our future guidance. Should you refuse to change your condition
on my account, your decision will, as I need hardly say, be a great
blow to me. In any event, I could not do less than I have done, after
giving the subject my full consideration. Even if there be a slight
deficiency of warmth on your part, my earnest hope is that a mind
comprehensive as yours will perceive the immense power for good that
you might exercise in the position in which a union with me would
place you, and allow that perception to weigh in determining your
answer.
'I remain, my dear Lady Constantine, with the highest respect and
affection,--Yours always,
'C. MELCHESTER.'
'Well, you will not have the foolhardiness to decline, now that the
question has actually been popped, I should hope,' said Louis, when he
had done reading.
'Certainly I shall,' she replied.
'You will really be such a flat, Viviette?'
'You speak without much compliment. I have not the least idea of
accepting him.'
'Surely you will not let your infatuation for that young fellow carry you
so far, after my acquainting you with the shady side of his character?
You call yourself a religious woman, say your prayers out loud, follow up
the revived methods in church practice, and what not; and yet you can
think with partiality of a person who, far from having any religion in
him, breaks the most elementary commandments in the decalogue.'
'I cannot agree with you,' she said, turning her face askance, for she
knew not how much of her brother's language was sincere, and how much
assumed, the extent of his discoveries with regard to her secret ties
being a mystery. At moments she was disposed to declare the whole truth,
and have done with it. But she hesitated, and left the words unsaid; and
Louis continued his breakfast in silence.
When he had finished, and she had eaten little or nothing, he asked once
more, 'How do you intend to answer that letter? Here you are, the
poorest woman in the county, abandoned by people who used to be glad to
know you, and leading a life as dismal and dreary as a nun's, when an
opportunity is offered you of leaping at once into a leading position in
this part of England. Bishops are given to hospitality; you would be
welcomed everywhere. In short, your answer must be yes.'
'And yet it will be no,' she said, in a low voice. She had at length
learnt, from the tone of her brother's latter remarks, that at any rate
he had no knowledge of her actual marriage, whatever indirect ties he
might suspect her guilty of.
Louis could restrain himself no longer at her answer. 'Then conduct your