Haunted Lives

HAUNTED LIVES

Charles looked at him for a moment shrewdly, and then down, and smiled a little awkwardly. The inquisitor was suffering more than the person undergoing the question. In fact, the examination was begining ??** to be inverted, and the éclaircissement approached at an inconveniently rapid pace. Mr. Dacre smiled very good naturedly.

“So many things one hears are – are – “ hesitated Charles. “I know – utterly absurd,” said Dacre; “but if my friends do hear them, and that they affect me, I protest against being kept in the dark, be it what it may – pray tell me all about it.” “Well the story is that you ran away with her; her husband divorced her, and you then married her,” said Mannering, with a little

shrug and a laugh, making nothing of it.

“Ho! There’s the whole epic in a nutshell, and simply a lie from first to last. She went away not with me, but a Mr. Tromperant. I don’t know whether Vanhomrigh divorced his wife or not, but I’m ready to swear I never married her.”

Here was a short silence.

“Is the woman alive still?” he resumed, perfectly carelessly. “If she is, pray do me the kindness to sift the story to the bottom. I never was married; but it is very clever of you to have collected so many of the apocryphal gospels that profess to record my life, and very good of you, I’m sure, to tell me what they say.”

“One can’t help hearing things, you know; and as you wished me to tell you all about these stories, I could not well refuse.”

“I can never thank you enough. Fame has, however, done me too much honour. I did not marry Vanhomrigh’s wife; and

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as to divorce, in this shameless and cold-blooded age, I don’t know why people ever think of it, seeing that marriage is itself a standing divorce, without the inconvenience or the scandal, and with this advantage, that husband and wife can resume one another whenever they choose. I’m not speaking my sentiments, mind, but those of a great many people of my acquaintance.”

“I quite understand,” said Mannering, and sipped a little claret.

“And quite to put an end to that part of the rumour, which, you see, is not pleasant. The next time you and I meet Ardenbroke together, I will ask him the question in your presence. When does he return, by-the-by?”

“I believe his stay in Scotland is likely to be longer than he expected. But, pray, don’t mind asking him, or, if you should, I have no right in the world to be present, and I should not like it.”

“Ah, Mr. Mannering, do you think that quite fair?” said Dacre, with a smile, and a little shake of his head. “I find you’re possessed of a variety of disagreeable stories about me – utterly untrue – and one of them such as no man ought to leave unanswered. Now, as I find you in a position to circulate that report, I put it to your honour – reflect – have I not a right to ask permission to arm you with its contradiction?”

“No man can help hearing reports as they circulate. You have contradicted that one in my presence,” said Charles, “and, of course, I can have no difficulty in saying I’ve heard you do so.”

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“No; you’re very good – that’s quite true,” said Dacre, “and my denial will be accepted for precisely what it is worth – you are good enough to set as high a value almost as I do upon it – but it will be rated at the value the world places on all such currency. It is the denial simply of the person interested in denying it, don’t you see? and although you and I know it is true, the world wont, and in that bank it wont be accepted.”

“Unlucky for you, Mr. Dacre; but still I can’t see that I am called on to ask for, or publish Ardenbroke’s testimony in the, matter, and I must, once for all, decline the kind of prominence you are good enough to propose for me.”

“I wish, dear Mannering, I could agree with you;” and suddenly changing his subject with a change of tone, he said, “the sun is already down; and that beautiful moon – it will become more brilliant as the glow in the west fades away – delicious evening! What do you say to a walk across the fields?”

“Yes, quite charming,” said Charles, recovering.

“A glass of sherry before we start?” said Dacre –”Delicious evening, certainly! That sort of sky sets a fellow ruminating. What a back-ground for a reverie – pleasant, of course, couleur de rose, old echoes mix in our music – we are always looking over our shoulders as we march on – retrospective creatures – we are. I was popular, I have been so consistently; of course, one can’t be popular, unless one is a great deal more amusing than I can ever hope or attempt to be, without money, for poverty is universally disgusting. I have good Spirits. I have a sort of commiseration for fools. I enjoy the ridiculous without exposing it; and I am under no constraint with knaves; in short, I am conscious of some ingredients of a man of the world.”

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“That’s a character I don’t aspire to – I feel my incompetence. – I have not the moral talents,” said Charles.

“How tiresome,” added Mannering, inwardly – that fellow s incessant talk about himself!”

And recovering from this incoherent little digression, Dacre returned to his projected ramble over the sheep-walk.

“We can get through that little garden to the path, I know it perfectly. The walk is quite Arcadian; just at the other side of that foreground, you get into an undulating sheep-walk, wooded with old timber, and utterly solitary; the loneliest place you ever saw in your life; a very singular scene. I undertake to say you’ll never forget it while you live. But take some more wine, wont you?”

“Not any, thanks.” “Some coffee.”

“No, thanks. Where does the path come out upon the old London road?”

“Not a mile from this.”

Charles pushed open the glass-door, and walked a few steps into the quaint little garden, and looked westward, where the quickly fading tints of a splendid sunset still flushed and gilded the sky.

Dacre touched the bell – “This is all right, is it?”

“Yes, sir, to be paid by the old gentleman – Scotch, I think he is, sir, upstairs, we know him here, sir.”

“Yes, and there’s a message. Where is Captain Transom?” “Talking outside with the gentleman as played in the

match, sir.”

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