Tales and Novels Volume IX Part 19

Her ladys.h.i.+p wondered, she said, how I could, after the reasons she had given me for her being morally certain that she had left the ring with Jacob, and after Lady Anne had justly remarked that the ring could not get through her glove, entertain a hope of finding it in such a ridiculous place as a m.u.f.f. But since I was so possessed with this idea, the m.u.f.f should be produced--there was nothing like ocular demonstration in these cases, except internal conviction: "Did you ring, Mr.

Harrington?"

"I did."

And Miss Nancy with the treble ruffles in her hand now appeared.

"'Tis your mother, child, I want," said Lady de Brantefield.

"Yes, my lady, she is only just finished a.s.sisting to lay out the ball supper."

"But I want her--directly."

"Certainly, my lady, directly."

"And bid her bring--" A whisper from me to my mother, and from my mother to her ladys.h.i.+p, failed of effect: after turning half round, as if to ask me what I said--a look which did not pa.s.s unnoticed by Miss Nancy--her ladys.h.i.+p finished her sentence--"And tell Fowler I desire she will bring me the m.u.f.f that I gave her last week--the day I lost my ring."

This message would immediately put Fowler upon her guard, and I was at first sorry that it had been so worded; but I recollected having heard an eminent judge, a man of great abilities and experience, say, that if he were called upon to form a judgment of any character, or to discover the truth in any case, he would rather that the persons whom he was to examine were previously put on their guard, than that they were not; for that he should know, by what they guarded, of what they were afraid.

Fowler appeared--twenty years had so changed her face and figure, that the sight of her did not immediately shock me as I feared it would. The daughter, who, I suppose, more nearly resembled what her mother had been at the time I had known her, was, of the two, the most disagreeable to my sight and feelings. Fowler's voice was altered by the loss of a tooth, and it was even by this change less odious to my ear. The daughter's voice I could scarcely endure. I was somewhat relieved from the fear of being prejudiced against Fowler by the perception of this change in her; and while she was paying me her compliments, I endeavoured to fortify the resolution I had made to judge of her with perfect impartiality. Her delight at seeing me, however, I could not believe to be sincere; and the reiterated repet.i.tion of her sorrow for her never having been able to get a sight of me before, I thought ill-judged: but no matter; many people in her station make these sort of unmeaning speeches. If I had suffered my imagination to act, I should have fancied that under a sort of prepared composure there was constraint and alarm in her look as she spoke to me. I thought she trembled; but I resolved not to be prejudiced--and this I repeated to myself many times.

"Well, Fowler, but the m.u.f.f," said Lady de Brantefield.

"The m.u.f.f--oh! dear, my lady, I'm so sorry I can't have it for you--it's not in the house nowhere--I parted with it out of hand directly upon your saying, my lady, that you desired it might never be suffered to come nigh your ladys.h.i.+p again. Then, says I to myself, since my lady can't abide the smell, I can't never wear it, which it would have been my pride to do; so I thought I could never get it fast enough out of the house."

"And what did you do with it?"

"I made a present of it, my lady, to poor Mrs. Baxter, John Dutton's sister, my lady, who was always so much attached to the family, and would have a regard for even the smallest relic, vestige, or vestment, I knew, above all things in nature, poor old soul!--she has, what with the rheumatic pains, and one thing or another, lost the use of her right arm, so it was particularly agreeable and appropriate--and she kissed the m.u.f.f--oh! my lady, I'm sure I only wish your ladys.h.i.+p could have witnessed the poor soul's veneration."

In reply to a question which made my mother ask about the "poor soul,"

I further learned that Mrs. Baxter was wife to a p.a.w.nbroker in Swallow-street. Fowler added, "If my lady wished any way for the m.u.f.f, I can get it to-morrow morning by breakfast, or by the time _you's up_, my lady."

"Very well, very well, that will do, I suppose, will it not, Mr.

Harrington?"

I bowed, and said not a word more--Fowler, I saw, was glad to get rid of the subject, and to go on to the treble ruffles, on which while she and my mother and Lady de Brantefield were descanting, I made my exit, and went to the ball-room.

I found Lady Anne Mowbray--talked nonsense to her ladys.h.i.+p for a quarter of an hour--and at last, _a propos _to her perfumed fan, I brought in the old m.u.f.f with the horrid smell, on purpose to obtain a full description of it.

She told me that it was a gray fox-skin, lined with scarlet; that it had great pompadour-coloured knots at each end, and that it was altogether hideous. Lady Anne declared that she was heartily glad it would never shock her eyes more.

It was now just nine o'clock; people then kept better hours than they do at present; I was afraid that all the shops would be shut; but I recollected that p.a.w.nbrokers' shops were usually kept open late. I lost no time in pursuing my object.

I took a hackney coach, bribed the coachman to drive very fast to Mr.

Manessa--found Manessa and Jacob going to bed sleepy--but at sight of me Jacob was alert in an instant, and joyfully ready to go with me immediately to Baxter, the p.a.w.nbroker's.

I made Jacob furnish me with an old surtout and slouched hat, desiring to look as shabby as possible, that the p.a.w.nbroker might take me for one of his usual nightly customers, and might not be alarmed at the sight of a gentleman.

"That won't do yet, Mr. Harrington," said Jacob, when I had equipped myself in the old hat and coat. "Mr. Baxter will see the look of a gentleman through all that. It is not the shabby coat that will make the gentleman look shabby, no more than the fine coat can ever make _the shabby_ look like the gentleman. The p.a.w.nbroker, who is used to observe and find out all manner of people, will know that as well as I--but now you shall see how well at one stroke I will disguise the gentleman."

Jacob then twisted a dirty silk handkerchief round my throat, and this did the business so completely, that I defied the p.a.w.nbroker and all his penetration.

We drove as fast as we could to Swallow-street--dismissed our hackney coach, and walked up to the p.a.w.nbroker's.

Light in the shop!--all alive!--and business going on. The shop was so full of people, that we stood for some minutes unnoticed.

We had leisure to look about us, as we had previously agreed to do, for Lady De Brantefield's m.u.f.f.

I had a suspicion that, notwithstanding the veneration with which it had been said to be treated, it might have come to the common lot of cast clothes.

Jacob at one side, and I at the other, took a careful survey of the multifarious contents of the shop; of all that hung from the ceiling; and all that was piled on the shelves; and all that lay huddled in corners, or crammed into dark recesses.

In one of the darkest and most ignominious of these, beneath a heap of sailors' old jackets and trowsers, I espied a knot of pompadour riband.

I hooked it out a little with the stick I had in my hand; but Jacob stopped me, and called to the s...o...b..y, who now had his eye upon us, and with him we began to bargain hard for some of the old clothes that lay upon the m.u.f.f.

The s...o...b..y lifted them up to display their merits, by the dimness of the candle-light, and, as he raised them up, there appeared beneath the gray fox-skin with its scarlet lining and pompadour knots, the Lady de Brantefield's much venerated m.u.f.f.

I could scarcely refrain from seizing upon it that moment, but Jacob again restrained me.

He went on talking about the sailors' jackets, for which we had been in treaty; and he insisted upon having the old m.u.f.f into the bargain. It actually was at last thrown in as a makeweight. Had she been witness to this bargain, I believe Lady De Brantefield would have dropped down in a swoon.

The moment I got possession of it, I turned it inside out.--There were several small rents in the lining--but one in particular had obviously been cut open with scissars. The s...o...b..y, who thought I was pointing out the rents to disparage my purchase, a.s.sured me that any woman, clever at her needle, would with half-a-dozen st.i.tches sew all up, and make the m.u.f.f as good again as new. Jacob desired the boy to show him some old seals, rings, and trinkets, fit for a pedlar to carry into the country; Jacob was, for this purpose, sent to the most respectable place at the counter, and promoted to the honour of dealing face to face with Mr.

Baxter himself:--drawers, which had before been invisible, were now produced; and I stood by while Jacob looked over all the new and old trinkets. I was much surprised by the richness and value of various brooches, picture settings, watches, and rings, which had come to this fate: at last, in a drawer with many valuables, which Mr. Baxter told us that some great man's mistress had, last week, been obliged to leave with him, Jacob and I, at the same moment, saw "_the splendour of the topaz_"--Lady de Brantefield's inestimable ring! I must do myself the justice to say that I behaved incomparably well--did not make a single exclamation, though I was sure it was the identical ring, the moment I caught a glimpse of the topaz--and though a glance from Jacob convinced me I was right. I said I could wait no longer, but would call again for him in half an hour's time. This was what we had agreed upon beforehand should be the signal for my summoning a Bow-street officer, whom Mr. Manessa had in readiness. Jacob identified and swore to the property--Mr. Baxter was seized. He protested he did not know the ring was _stolen goods_--he could not recollect who had sold it to him; but when we mentioned Fowler's name, he grew pale, was disconcerted, and not knowing how much or how little we knew, decided at once to get out of the sc.r.a.pe himself by giving her up, and turning evidence against her.

He stated that she had found it in the old m.u.f.f, but that he never knew That this m.u.f.f had belonged to Lady de Brantefield. Mrs. Fowler had a.s.sured Him that it had been left to her along with the wardrobe of a lady with Whom she had formerly lived.

As soon as Baxter had told all the lies he chose to invent, and confessed as much of the truth as he thought would serve his purpose, his deposition was taken and sworn to. This was all that could then be done, as it was near twelve o'clock.

Poor Jacob's joy at having his innocence proved, and at being relieved from the fear of injuring the credit of his master's house, raised his spirits higher than I ever saw them in my life before. But still his joy and grat.i.tude were more shown by looks than words. He thanked me once, and but once, warmly and strongly.

"Ah! Mr. Harrington," said he, "from the time you were _Master_ Harrington at school, you were my best friend--always my friend in most need--I trusted in you, and still I hoped!--hoped that the truth would stand, and the lie fall. See at last our Hebrew proverb right--'_A lie has no feet._'"

CHAPTER XVIII.

The next morning, before I left my room to go down to breakfast, my servant told me that Lady de Brantefield's housekeeper, Mrs. Fowler, begged to speak to me--she had been come some time. I went into my mother's dressing-room, where she was waiting alone. I could not bear to fix my eyes upon her; I advanced towards her, wis.h.i.+ng, as I believe I said aloud, that she had spared me the pain of this interview. I waited in silence for her to speak, but she did not say a word--I heard the unhappy woman sobbing violently. Suddenly she took her handkerchief from before her face, and her sobs ceasing, she exclaimed, "I know you hate me, Mr. Harrington, and you have reason to hate me--more--much more than you know of! But Lord Mowbray is the most to blame."

I stood in astonishment. I conceived either that the woman was out of her senses, or that she had formed the not unprecedented design of affecting insanity, in hope of escaping the punishment of guilt: she threw herself at my feet--she would have clasped my knees, but I started back from her insufferable touch; provoked by this, she exclaimed, in a threatening tone, "Take care, sir!--The secret is still in my power."

Then observing, I believe, that her threat made no impression, her tone changed again to the whine of supplication.

"Oh, Mr. Harrington, if I could hope for your forgiveness, I could reveal such a secret--a secret that so concerns you!"

I retreated, saying that I would not hear any secret from her. But I stopped, and was fixed to the spot, when she added, under her breath, the name of Montenero. Then, in a hypocritical voice, she went on--"Oh, Mr. Harrington!--Oh, sir, I have, been a great sinner! led on--led on by them that was worse than myself; but if you will plead for me with my lady, and prevail upon her not to bring me to public shame about this unfortunate affair of the ring, I will confess all to you--I will throw myself on your mercy. I will quit the country if you will prevail on my lady--to let my daughter's marriage go on, and not to turn her out of favour."

I refused to make any terms; but my mother, whose curiosity could refrain no longer, burst into the room; and to her Fowler did not plead in vain. Shocked as she was with the detection of this woman's fraud, my mother was so eager to learn the secret concerning me, that she promised to obtain a pardon from Lady de Brantefield for the delinquent, if she would immediately communicate the secret. I left the room.

I met my father with letters and newspapers in his hand. He looked in consternation, and beckoned to me to follow him into his own room.

"I was just going in search of you, Harrington," said he: "here's a devil of a stroke for your mother's friend, Lady de Brantefield."