A Dark Night's Work Part 15

"But Elba is not many miles away," said Ellinor. "If this steam were but away, you could see it still."

"And if we were landed there we might stay on the island for many days; no steamer touches there; but if we return to Civita, we shall be in time for the Sunday boat."

"Oh, dear, dear!" said Ellinor. "To-day is the second--Sunday will be the fourth--the a.s.sizes begin on the seventh; how miserably unfortunate!"

"Yes!" he said, "it is. And these things always appear so doubly unfortunate when they hinder our serving others! But it does not follow that because the a.s.sizes begin at h.e.l.lingford on the seventh, Dixon's trial will come on so soon. We may still get to Ma.r.s.eilles on Monday evening; on by diligence to Lyons; it will--it must, I fear, be Thursday, at the earliest, before we reach Paris--Thursday, the eighth--and I suppose you know of some exculpatory evidence that has to be hunted up?"

He added this unwillingly; for he saw that Ellinor was jealous of the secresy she had hitherto maintained as to her reasons for believing Dixon innocent; but he could not help thinking that she, a gentle, timid woman, unaccustomed to action or business, would require some of the a.s.sistance which he would have been so thankful to give her; especially as this untoward accident would increase the press of time in which what was to be done would have to be done.

But no. Ellinor scarcely replied to his half-inquiry as to her reasons for hastening to England. She yielded to all his directions, agreed to his plans, but gave him none of her confidence, and he had to submit to this exclusion from sympathy in the exact causes of her anxiety.

Once more in the dreary sala, with the gaudy painted ceiling, the bare dirty floor, the innumerable rattling doors and windows! Ellinor was submissive and patient in demeanour, because so sick and despairing at heart. Her maid was ten times as demonstrative of annoyance and disgust; she who had no particular reason for wanting to reach England, but who thought it became her dignity to make it seem as though she had.

At length the weary time was over; and again they sailed past Elba, and arrived at Ma.r.s.eilles. Now Ellinor began to feel how much a.s.sistance it was to her to have Dr. Livingstone for a "courier," as he had several times called himself.

CHAPTER XIV.

"Where now?" said the canon, as they approached the London Bridge station.

"To the Great Western," said she; "h.e.l.lingford is on that line, I see.

But, please, now we must part."

"Then I may not go with you to h.e.l.lingford? At any rate, you will allow me to go with you to the railway station, and do my last office as courier in getting you your ticket and placing you in the carriage."

So they went together to the station, and learnt that no train was leaving for h.e.l.lingford for two hours. There was nothing for it but to go to the hotel close by, and pa.s.s away the time as best they could.

Ellinor called for her maid's accounts, and dismissed her. Some refreshment that the canon had ordered was eaten, and the table cleared.

He began walking up and down the room, his arms folded, his eyes cast down. Every now and then he looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. When that showed that it only wanted a quarter of an hour to the time appointed for the train to start, he came up to Ellinor, who sat leaning her head upon her hand, her hand resting on the table.

"Miss Wilkins," he began--and there was something peculiar in his tone which startled Ellinor--"I am sure you will not scruple to apply to me if in any possible way I can help you in this sad trouble of yours?"

"No indeed I won't!" said Ellinor, gratefully, and putting out her hand as a token. He took it, and held it; she went on, a little more hastily than before: "You know you were so good as to say you would go at once and see Miss Monro, and tell her all you know, and that I will write to her as soon as I can."

"May I not ask for one line?" he continued, still holding her hand.

"Certainly: so kind a friend as you shall hear all I can tell; that is, all I am at liberty to tell."

"A friend! Yes, I am a friend; and I will not urge any other claim just now. Perhaps--"

Ellinor could not affect to misunderstand him. His manner implied even more than his words.

"No!" she said, eagerly. "We are friends. That is it. I think we shall always be friends, though I will tell you now--something--this much--it is a sad secret. G.o.d help me! I am as guilty as poor Dixon, if, indeed, he is guilty--but he is innocent--indeed he is!"

"If he is no more guilty than you, I am sure he is! Let me be more than your friend, Ellinor--let me know all, and help you all that I can, with the right of an affianced husband."

"No, no!" said she, frightened both at what she had revealed, and his eager, warm, imploring manner. "That can never be. You do not know the disgrace that may be hanging over me."

"If that is all," said he, "I take my risk--if that is all--if you only fear that I may shrink from sharing any peril you may be exposed to."

"It is not peril--it is shame and obloquy--" she murmured.

"Well! shame and obloquy. Perhaps, if I knew all I could s.h.i.+eld you from it."

"Don't, pray, speak any more about it now; if you do, I must say 'No.'"

She did not perceive the implied encouragement in these words; but he did, and they sufficed to make him patient.

The time was up, and he could only render her his last services as "courier," and none other but the necessary words at starting pa.s.sed between them.

But he went away from the station with a cheerful heart; while she, sitting alone and quiet, and at last approaching near to the place where so much was to be decided, felt sadder and sadder, heavier and heavier.

All the intelligence she had gained since she had seen the _Galignani_ in Paris, had been from the waiter at the Great Western Hotel, who, after returning from a vain search for an unoccupied _Times_, had volunteered the information that there was an unusual demand for the paper because of h.e.l.lingford a.s.sizes, and the trial there for murder that was going on.

There was no electric telegraph in those days; at every station Ellinor put her head out, and enquired if the murder trial at h.e.l.lingford was ended. Some porters told her one thing, some another, in their hurry; she felt that she could not rely on them.

"Drive to Mr. Johnson's in the High street--quick, quick. I will give you half-a-crown if you will go quick."

For, indeed, her endurance, her patience, was strained almost to snapping; yet at h.e.l.lingford station, where doubtless they could have told her the truth, she dared not ask the question. It was past eight o'clock at night. In many houses in the little country town there were unusual lights and sounds. The inhabitants were showing their hospitality to such of the strangers brought by the a.s.sizes, as were lingering there now that the business which had drawn them was over. The Judges had left the town that afternoon, to wind up the circuit by the short list of a neighbouring county town.

Mr. Johnson was entertaining a dinner-party of attorneys when he was summoned from dessert by the announcement of a "lady who wanted to speak to him immediate and particular."

He went into his study in not the best of tempers. There he found his client, Miss Wilkins, white and ghastly, standing by the fireplace, with her eyes fixed on the door.

"It is you, Miss Wilkins! I am very glad--"

"Dixon!" said she. It was all she could utter.

Mr. Johnson shook his head.

"Ah; that's a sad piece of business, and I'm afraid it has shortened your visit at Rome."

"Is he--?"

"Ay, I'm afraid there's no doubt of his guilt. At any rate, the jury found him guilty, and--"

"And!" she repeated, quickly, sitting down, the better to hear the words that she knew were coming--

"He is condemned to death."

"When?"

"The Sat.u.r.day but one after the Judges left the town, I suppose--it's the usual time."

"Who tried him?"