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WYLDER’S HAND
‘I think it is pretty obvious, Ma’am – Miss Lake, I beg pardon – you have had some conversation with your brother,’ answered
the attorney, with a signifi cant sneer.
‘I don’t know what you mean, Sir, I repeat. I’ve just heard, in the
other room, from your wife, William Wylder, that you were about
selling your reversion in the estates, and I want to know whether
that is so; for if it be, it is the act of a madman, and I’ll prevent it, if
I possibly can.’
‘Upon my word! possibly’ – said the vicar, his eyes very wide
open, and looking with a hesitating gaze from Rachel to the attorney – ‘there may be something in it which neither you nor I know;
does it not strike you – had we not better consider?’
‘Consider what, Sir?’ said the attorney, with a snap, and losing
his temper somewhat. ‘It is simply, Sir, that this young lady represents Captain Lake, who wishes to get the reversion for himself.’
‘That is utterly false, Sir!’ said Miss Lake, fl ashing and blushing
with indignation. ‘You, William, are a gentleman; and such inconceivable meanness cannot enter your mind.’
The attorney, with what he meant to be a polished sarcasm,
bowed and smiled toward Miss Lake.
Pale little Fairy, sitting before his ‘picture-book,’ was watching
the scene with round eyes and round mouth, and that mixture of
interest, awe, and distress, with which children witness the uncomprehended excitement and collision of their elders.
‘My dear Miss Lake, I respect and esteem you; you quite mistake,
I am persuaded, my good friend Mr. Larkin; and, indeed, I don’t
quite comprehend; but if it were so, and that your brother really
wished – do you think he does, Mr. Larkin? – to buy the reversion,
he might think it more valuable, perhaps.’
‘I can say with certainty, Sir, that from that quarter you would
get nothing like what you have agreed to take; and I must say, once
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JOSEPH SHERIDAN L E FANU
for all, Sir, that – quite setting aside every consideration of honour
and of conscience, and of the highly prejudicial position in which
you would place me as a man of business, by taking the very short
turn which this young lady, Miss Lake, suggests – your letters
amount to an equitable agreement to sell, which, on petition, the
court would compel you to do.’
‘So you see, my dear Miss Lake, there is no more to be said,’ said
the vicar, with a careworn smile, looking upon Rachel’s handsome
face.
‘Now, now, we are all friends, aren’t we?’ said poor Dolly, who
could not make anything of the debate, and was staring, with open
mouth, from one speaker to another. ‘We are all agreed, are not we?
You are all so good, and fond of Willie, that you are actually ready
almost to quarrel for him.’ But her little laugh produced no echo, except a very joyless and fl ushed effort from the attorney, as he looked
up from consulting his watch.
‘Eleven minutes past three,’ said he, ‘and I’ve a meeting at my
house at half-past: so, unless you complete that instrument now,
I regret to say I must take it back unfi nished, and the result may
be to defeat the arrangement altogether, and if the consequences
should prove serious, I, at least, am not to blame.’
‘Don’t sign, I entreat, I implore of you. William Wylder, you shan’t.’
‘But, my dear Miss Lake, we have considered everything, and Mr.
Larkin and I agree that my circumstances are such as to make it
inevitable.’
‘Really, this is child’s play; there, if you please,’ said the attorney,
once more.
Rachel Lake, during the discussion, had removed her hand. The
faintly-traced line on which the vicar was to sign was now fairly
presented to him.
‘Just in your usual way,’ murmured Mr. Larkin.
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WYLDER’S HAND
So the vicar’s pen was applied, but before he had time to trace
the fi rst letter of his name, Rachel Lake resolutely snatched the
thick, bluish sheet of scrivenery, with its handsome margins, and
red ink lines, from before him, and tore it across and across, with
the quickness of terror, and in fewer seconds than one could fancy,
it lay about the fl oor and grate in pieces little bigger than dominoes.
The attorney made a hungry snatch at the paper, over William
Wylder’s shoulder, nearly bearing that gentleman down on his face,
but his clutch fell short.
‘Hallo! Miss Lake, Ma’am – the paper!’
But wild words were of no avail. The whole party, except Rachel,
were aghast. The attorney’s small eye glanced over the ground and
hearthstone, where the bits were strewn, like
Ladies’ smocks, all silver white, That paint the meadows with
delight.
He had nothing for it but to submit to fortune with his best air.
He stood erect; a slanting beam from the window glimmered on his
tall, bald head, and his face was black and menacing as the summit
of a thunder-crowned peak.
‘You are not aware, Miss Lake, of the nature of your act, and
of the consequences to which you have exposed yourself, Madam.
But that is a view of the occurrence in which, except as a matter
of deep regret, I cannot be supposed to be immediately interested.
I will mention, however, that your interference, your violent interference, Madam, may be attended with most serious consequences
to my reverend client, for which, of course, you constituted yourself
fully responsible, when you entered on the course of unauthorised
interference, which has resulted in destroying the articles of agreement, prepared with great care and labour, for his protection; and
retarding the transmission of the document, by at least four-and-
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JOSEPH SHERIDAN L E FANU
twenty hours, to London. You may, Madam, I regret to observe, have
ruined my client.’
‘Saved him, I hope.’
‘And run yourself, Madam, into a very serious scrape.’
‘Upon that point you have said quite enough, Sir. Dolly, William, don’t look so frightened; you’ll both live to thank me for this.’
All this time little Fairy, unheeded, was bawling in great anguish of soul, clinging to Rachel’s dress, and crying – ‘Oh! he’ll hurt
her – he’ll hurt her – he’ll hurt her. Don’t let him – don’t let him.
Wapsie, don’t let him. Oh! the frightle man! – don’t let him – he’ll
hurt her – the frightle man!’ And little man’s cheeks were drenched
in tears, and his wee feet danced in an agony of terror on the fl oor,
as, bawling, he tried to pull his friend Rachel into a corner.
‘Nonsense, little man,’ cried his father, with quick reproof, on
hearing this sacrilegious uproar. ‘Mr. Larkin never hurt anyone; tut,
tut; sit down, and look at your book.’
But Rachel, with a smile of love and gratifi cation, lifted the
little man up in her arms, and kissed him; and his thin, little legs
were clasped about her waist, and his arms round her neck, and he
kissed her with his wet face, devouringly, blubbering ‘the frightle
man – you doatie! – the frightle man!’
‘Then, Mr. Wylder, I shall have the document prepared again
from the draft. You’ll see to that, Mr. Buggs, please; and perhaps it
will be better that you should look in at the Lodge.’
When he mentioned the Lodge, it was in so lofty a way that
a stranger would have supposed it something very handsome indeed, and one of the sights of the county.
‘Say, about nine o’clock to-morrow morning. Farewell, Mr.
Wylder, farewell. I regret the enhanced expense – I regret the delay – I regret the risk – I regret, in fact, the whole scene. Farewell,
Mrs. Wylder.’ And with a silent bow to Rachel – perfectly polished,
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WYLDER’S HAND
perfectly terrible – he withdrew, followed by the sallow clerk, and
by that radiant scamp, old Buggs, who made them several obeisances
at the door.
‘Oh, dear Miss Lake – Rachel, I mean – Rachel, dear, I hope it
won’t be all off. Oh, you don’t know – Heaven only knows – the
danger we are in. Oh, Rachel, dear, if this is broken off, I don’t know
what is to become of us – I don’t know.’
Dolly spoke quite wildly, with her hands on Rachel’s shoulders.
It was the fi rst time she had broken down, the fi rst time, at least, the
vicar had seen her anything but cheery, and his head sank, and it
seemed as if his last light had gone out, and he was quite benighted.
‘Do you think,’ said he, ‘there is much danger of that? Do you
really think so?’
‘Now, don’t blame me,’ said Miss Lake, ‘and don’t be frightened
till you have heard me. Let us sit down here – we shan’t be interrupted – and just answer your wretched friend, Rachel, two or three
questions, and hear what she has to say.’
Rachel was fl ushed and excited, and sat with the little boy still
in her arms.
So, in reply to her questions, the vicar told her frankly how he
stood; and Rachel said – ‘Well, you must not think of selling your
reversion. Oh! think of your little boy – think of Dolly – if you were
taken away from her.’
‘But,’ said Dolly, ‘Mr. Larkin heard from Captain Lake that Mark
is privately married, and actually has, he says, a large family; and he,
you know, has letters from him, and Mr. Larkin thinks, knows more
than anyone else about him; and if that were so, none of us would
ever inherit the property. So’ –
‘Do they say that Mark is married? Nothing can be more false.
I know it is altogether a falsehood. He neither is nor ever will be
married. If my brother dared say that in my presence, I would make
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JOSEPH SHERIDAN L E FANU
him confess, before you, that he knows it cannot be. Oh! my poor
little Fairy – my poor Dolly – my poor good friend, William! What
shall I say? I am in great distraction of mind.’ And she hugged and
kissed the pale little boy, she herself paler.
‘Listen to me, good and kind as you are. You are never to call
me your friend, mind that. I am a most unhappy creature forced by
circumstances to be your enemy, for a time – not always. You have
no conception how, and may never even suspect. Don’t ask me, but
listen.’
Wonder stricken and pained was the countenance with which
the vicar gazed upon her, and Dolly looked both frightened and
perplexed.
‘I have a little more than three hundred a-year. There is a little
annuity charged on Sir Hugh Landon’s estate, and his solicitor has
written, offering me six hundred pounds for it. I will write to-night
accepting that offer, and you shall have the money to pay those debts
which have been pressing so miserably upon you. Don’t thank – not
a word – but listen. I would so like, Dolly, to come and live with you.
We could unite our incomes. I need only bring poor old Tamar with
me, and I can give up Redman’s Farm in September next. I should
be so much happier; and I think my income and yours joined would
enable us to live without any danger of getting into debt. Will you
agree to this, Dolly, dear; and promise me, William Wylder, that
you will think no more of selling that reversion, which may be the
splendid provision of your dear little boy. Don’t thank me – don’t
say anything now; and oh! don’t reject my poor entreaty. Your refusal would almost make me mad. I would try, Dolly, to be of use.
I think I could. Only try me.’
She fancied she saw in Dolly’s face, under all her gratitude,
some perplexity and hesitation, and feared to accept a decision then.
So she hurried away, with a hasty and kind good-bye.
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WYLDER’S HAND
A fortnight before, I think, during Dolly’s jealous fi t, this magnifi cent offer of Rachel’s would, notwithstanding the dreadful necessities of the case, have been coldly received by the poor little
woman. But that delusion was quite cured now – no reserve, or
doubt, or coldness left behind. And Dolly and the vicar felt that Rachel’s noble proposal was the making of them.
CHAPTER LIX
AN ENEMY IN REDMAN’S DELL
Jos. Larkin grew more and more uncomfortable about the unexpected interposition of Rachel Lake as the day wore on. He felt,
with an unerring intuition, that the young lady both despised and
suspected him. He also knew that she was impetuous and clever, and
he feared from that small white hand a fatal mischief – he could not
tell exactly how – to his plans.
Jim Dutton’s letter had somehow an air of sobriety and earnestness, which made way with his convictions. His doubts and suspicions had subsided, and he now believed, with a profound moral
certainty, that Mark Wylder was actually dead, within the precincts
of a mad-house or of some lawless place of detention abroad. What
was that to the purpose? Dutton might arrive at any moment. Low
fellows are always talking; and the story might get abroad before the
assignment of the vicar’s interest. Of course there was something
speculative in the whole transaction, but he had made his book well,
and by his ‘arrangement’ with Captain Lake, whichever way the
truth lay, he stood to win. So the attorney had no notion of allowing
this highly satisfactory arithmetic to be thrown into confusion by
the fi llip of a small gloved fi nger.
On the whole he was not altogether sorry for the delay. Everything worked together he knew. One or two covenants and modifi cations in the articles had struck him as desirable, on reading
the instrument over with William Wylder. He also thought a larg-
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WYLDER’S HAND
er consideration should be stated and acknowledged as paid, say
22,000 l. The vicar would really receive just 2,200 l. ‘Costs’ would
do something to reduce the balance, for Jos. Larkin was one of those
oxen who, when treading out corn, decline to be muzzled. The remainder was – the vicar would clearly understand – one of those
ridiculous pedantries of law, upon which our system of crotchets
and fi ctions insisted. And William Wylder, whose character, simply
and sensitively honourable, Mr. Larkin appreciated, was to write to
Burlington and Smith a letter, for the satisfaction of their speculative and nervous client, pledging his honour, as a gentleman, and
his conscience, as a Christian, that in the event of the sale being
completed, he would never do, countenance, or permit, any act or
proceeding, whatsoever, tending on any ground to impeach or invalidate the transaction.
‘I’ve no objection – have I? – to write such a letter,’ asked the
vicar of his adviser.
‘Why, I suppose you have no intention of trying to defeat your
own act, and that is all the letter would go to. I look on it as wholly
unimportant, and it is really not a point worth standing upon for
a second.’
So that also was agreed to.
Now while the improved ‘instrument’ was in preparation, the
attorney strolled down in the evening to look after his clerical client, and keep him ‘straight’ for the meeting at which he was to sign
the articles next day.
It was by the drowsy faded light of a late summer’s evening
that he arrived at the quaint little parsonage. He maintained his
character as ‘a nice spoken gentleman,’ by enquiring of the maid
who opened the door how the little boy was. ‘Not so well – gone to
bed – but would be better, everyone was sure, in the morning.’ So he
went in and saw the vicar, who had just returned with Dolly from
449
JOSEPH SHERIDAN L E FANU
a little ramble. Everything promised fairly – the quiet mind was returning – the good time coming – all the pleasanter for the storms
and snows of the night that was over.
‘Well, my good invaluable friend, you will be glad – you will
rejoice with us, I know, to learn that, after all, the sale of our reversion is unnecessary.’
The attorney allowed his client to shake him by both hands, and
he smiled a sinister congratulation as well as he could, grinning in
reply to the vicar’s pleasant smile as cheerfully as was feasible, and
wofully puzzled in the meantime. Had James Dutton arrived and
announced the death of Mark – no; it could hardly be that – decency had not yet quite taken leave of the earth; and stupid as the
vicar was, he would hardly announce the death of his brother to
a Christian gentleman in a fashion so outrageous. Had Lord Chelford been invoked, and answered satisfactorily? Or Dorcas – or
had Lake, the diabolical sneak, interposed with his long purse, and
a plausible hypocrisy of kindness, to spoil Larkin’s plans? All these
fanciful queries fl itted through his brain as the vicar’s hands shook
both his, and he laboured hard to maintain the cheerful grin with
which he received the news, and his guileful rapacious little eyes
searched narrowly the countenance of his client.
So after a while, Dolly assisting, and sometimes both talking together, the story was told, Rachel blessed and panegyrised, and the
attorney’s congratulations challenged and yielded once more. But
there was something not altogether joyous in Jos. Larkin’s countenance, which struck the vicar, and he said –
‘You don’t see any objection?’ and paused.
‘Objection? Why, objection, my dear Sir, is a strong word; but
I fear I do see a diffi culty – in fact, several diffi culties. Perhaps you
would take a little turn on the green – I must call for a moment
at the reading-room – and I’ll explain. You’ll forgive me, I hope,
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