Two on a Tower
new and unexpected shock to mingle with them. The postman had delivered
among other things an illustrated newspaper, sent by a hand she did not
recognize; and on opening the cover the sheet that met her eyes filled
her with a horror which she could not express. The print was one which
drew largely on its imagination for its engravings, and it already
contained an illustration of the death of Sir Blount Constantine. In
this work of art he was represented as standing with his pistol to his
mouth, his brains being in process of flying up to the roof of his
chamber, and his native princess rushing terror-stricken away to a remote
position in the thicket of palms which neighboured the dwelling.
The crude realism of the picture, possibly harmless enough in its effect
upon others, overpowered and sickened her. By a curious fascination she
would look at it again and again, till every line of the engraver's
performance seemed really a transcript from what had happened before his
eyes. With such details fresh in her thoughts she was going out of the
door to make arrangements for confirming, by repetition, her marriage
with another. No interval was available for serious reflection on the
tragedy, or for allowing the softening effects of time to operate in her
mind. It was as though her first husband had died that moment, and she
was keeping an appointment with another in the presence of his corpse.
So revived was the actuality of Sir Blount's recent life and death by
this incident, that the distress of her personal relations with Swithin
was the single force in the world which could have coerced her into
abandoning to him the interval she would fain have set apart for getting
over these new and painful impressions. Self-pity for ill-usage afforded
her good reasons for ceasing to love Sir Blount; but he was yet too
closely intertwined with her past life to be destructible on the instant
as a memory.
But there was no choice of occasions for her now, and she steadily waited
for the church bells to cease chiming. At last all was silent; the
surrounding cottagers had gathered themselves within the walls of the
adjacent building. Tabitha Lark's first voluntary then droned from the
tower window, and Lady Constantine left the garden in which she had been
loitering, and went towards Rings-Hill Speer.
The sense of her situation obscured the morning prospect. The country
was unusually silent under the intensifying sun, the songless season of
birds having just set in. Choosing her path amid the efts that were
basking upon the outer slopes of the plantation she wound her way up the
tree-shrouded camp to the wooden cabin in the centre.
The door was ajar, but on entering she found the place empty. The tower
door was also partly open; and listening at the foot of the stairs she
heard Swithin above, shifting the telescope and wheeling round the
rumbling dome, apparently in preparation for the next nocturnal
reconnoitre. There was no doubt that he would descend in a minute or two
to look for her, and not wishing to interrupt him till he was ready she
re-entered the cabin, where she patiently seated herself among the books
and papers that lay scattered about.
She did as she had often done before when waiting there for him; that is,
she occupied her moments in turning over the papers and examining the
progress of his labours. The notes were mostly astronomical, of course,
and she had managed to keep sufficiently abreast of him to catch the
meaning of a good many of these. The litter on the table, however, was
somewhat more marked this morning than usual, as if it had been hurriedly
overhauled. Among the rest of the sheets lay an open note, and, in the
entire confidence that existed between them, she glanced over and read it
as a matter of course.
It was a most business-like communication, and beyond the address and
date contained only the following words:--
'DEAR SIR,--We beg leave to draw your attention to a letter we
addressed to you on the 26th ult., to which we have not yet been
favoured with a reply. As the time for payment of the first moiety of
the six hundred pounds per annum settled on you by your late uncle is
now at hand, we should be obliged by your giving directions as to
where and in what manner the money is to be handed over to you, and
shall also be glad to receive any other definite instructions from you
with regard to the future.--We are, dear Sir, yours faithfully,
HANNER AND RAWLES.'
'SWITHIN ST. CLEEVE, Esq.'
An income of six hundred a year for Swithin, whom she had hitherto
understood to be possessed of an annuity of eighty pounds at the outside,
with no prospect of increasing the sum but by hard work! What could this
communication mean? He whose custom and delight it was to tell her all
his heart, had breathed not a syllable of this matter to her, though it
met the very difficulty towards which their discussions invariably
tended--how to secure for him a competency that should enable him to
establish his pursuits on a wider basis, and throw himself into more
direct communion with the scientific world. Quite bewildered by the lack
of any explanation she rose from her seat, and with the note in her hand
ascended the winding tower-steps.
Reaching the upper aperture she perceived him under the dome, moving
musingly about as if he had never been absent an hour, his light hair
frilling out from under the edge of his velvet skull-cap as it was always
wont to do. No question of marriage seemed to be disturbing the mind of
this juvenile husband of hers. The _primum mobile_ of his gravitation
was apparently the equatorial telescope which she had given him, and
which he was carefully adjusting by means of screws and clamps. Hearing
her movements he turned his head.
'O here you are, my dear Viviette! I was just beginning to expect you,'
he exclaimed, coming forward. 'I ought to have been looking out for you,
but I have found a little defect here in the instrument, and I wanted to
set it right before evening comes on. As a rule it is not a good thing
to tinker your glasses; but I have found that the diffraction-rings are
not perfect circles. I learnt at Greenwich how to correct them--so kind
they have been to me there!--and so I have been loosening the screws and
gently shifting the glass, till I think that I have at last made the
illumination equal all round. I have so much to tell you about my visit;
one thing is, that the astronomical world is getting quite excited about
the coming Transit of Venus. There is to be a regular expedition fitted
out. How I should like to join it!'
He spoke enthusiastically, and with eyes sparkling at the mental image of
the said expedition; and as it was rather gloomy in the dome he rolled it
round on its axis, till the shuttered slit for the telescope directly
faced the morning sun, which thereupon flooded the concave interior,
touching the bright metal-work of the equatorial, and lighting up her
pale, troubled face.
'But Swithin!' she faltered; 'my letter to you--our marriage!'
'O yes, this marriage question,' he added. 'I had not forgotten it, dear
Viviette--or at least only for a few minutes.'
'Can you forget it, Swithin, for a moment? O how can you!' she said
reproachfully. 'It is such a distressing thing. It drives away all my
rest!'
'Forgotten is not the word I should have used,' he apologized.
'Temporarily dismissed it from my mind, is all I meant. The simple fact
is, that the vastness of the field of astronomy reduces every terrestrial
thing to atomic dimensions. Do not trouble, dearest. The remedy is
quite easy, as I stated in my letter. We can now be married in a prosy
public way. Yes, early or late--next week, next month, six months
hence--just as you choose. Say the word when, and I will obey.'
The absence of all anxiety or consternation from his face contrasted
strangely with hers, which at last he saw, and, looking at the writing
she held, inquired--
'But what paper have you in your hand?'
'A letter which to me is actually inexplicable,' said she, her curiosity
returning to the letter, and overriding for the instant her immediate
concerns. 'What does this income of six hundred a year mean? Why have
you never told me about it, dear Swithin? or does it not refer to you?'
He looked at the note, flushed slightly, and was absolutely unable to
begin his reply at once.
'I did not mean you to see that, Viviette,' he murmured.
'Why not?'
'I thought you had better not, as it does not concern me further now. The
solicitors are labouring under a mistake in supposing that it does. I
have to write at once and inform them that the annuity is not mine to
receive.'
'What a strange mystery in your life!' she said, forcing a perplexed
smile. 'Something to balance the tragedy in mine. I am absolutely in
the dark as to your past history, it seems. And yet I had thought you
told me everything.'
'I could not tell you that, Viviette, because it would have endangered
our relations--though not in the way you may suppose. You would have
reproved me. You, who are so generous and noble, would have forbidden me
to do what I did; and I was determined not to be forbidden.'
'To do what?'
'To marry you.'
'Why should I have forbidden?'
'Must I tell--what I would not?' he said, placing his hands upon her
arms, and looking somewhat sadly at her. 'Well, perhaps as it has come
to this you ought to know all, since it can make no possible difference
to my intentions now. We are one for ever--legal blunders
notwithstanding; for happily they are quickly reparable--and this
question of a devise from my uncle Jocelyn only concerned me when I was a
single man.'
Thereupon, with obviously no consideration of the possibilities that were
reopened of the nullity of their marriage contract, he related in detail,
and not without misgiving for having concealed them so long, the events
that had occurred on the morning of their wedding-day; how he had met the
postman on his way to Warborne after dressing in the cabin, and how he
had received from him the letter his dead uncle had confided to his
family lawyers, informing him of the annuity, and of the important
request attached--that he should remain unmarried until his
five-and-twentieth year; how in comparison with the possession of her
dear self he had reckoned the income as nought, abandoned all idea of it
there and then, and had come on to the wedding as if nothing had happened
to interrupt for a moment the working out of their plan; how he had
scarcely thought with any closeness of the circumstances of the case
since, until reminded of them by this note she had seen, and a previous
one of a like sort received from the same solicitors.
'O Swithin! Swithin!' she cried, bursting into tears as she realized it
all, and sinking on the observing-chair; 'I have ruined you! yes, I have
ruined you!'
The young man was dismayed by her unexpected grief, and endeavoured to
soothe her; but she seemed touched by a poignant remorse which would not
be comforted.
'And now,' she continued, as soon as she could speak, 'when you are once
more free, and in a position--actually in a position to claim the annuity
that would be the making of you, I am compelled to come to you, and
beseech you to undo yourself again, merely to save me!'
'Not to save you, Viviette, but to bless me. You do not ask me to re-
marry; it is not a question of alternatives at all; it is my straight
course. I do not dream of doing otherwise. I should be wretched if you
thought for one moment I could entertain the idea of doing otherwise.'
But the more he said the worse he made the matter. It was a state of