The Monctons Volume Ii Part 13

The river lay before me gleaming in the setting sun. Everything around was calm, peaceful, and beautiful; but there was no rest, no peace in my heart.

As I approached the rustic bridge from which the wretched Alice had attempted suicide, I perceived a human figure seated on a stone on the bank of the river, in a crouching, listless att.i.tude. This excited my curiosity, and catching at anything that might divert my thoughts from the unpleasant train in which they had been running for the last hour, I struck off the path I had been pursuing, which led directly to the public road, and soon reached the object in question.

Wrapped in an old grey mantle, with a red silk handkerchief tied over her head, her chin resting between her long bony hands, and her eyes shut, or bent intently on the ground, I recognized, with a shudder of aversion and disgust, the remarkable face of Dinah North.

Her grizzled locks had partly escaped from their bandage, and fell in thin, straggling lines over her low, wrinkled forehead. The fire of her deep-seated dark eyes was hidden beneath their drooping lids, and she was muttering to herself some strange unintelligible gibberish.

She did not notice me until I purposely placed myself between her and the river which rolled silently and swiftly at her feet.

Without manifesting the least surprise at the unceremonious manner in which I had disturbed her reverie, she slowly raised her witch-like countenance, and for a few seconds surveyed me with a sullen stare. As if satisfied with my ident.i.ty, she accosted me with the same sarcastic writhing of the upper lip, which on our first interview had given me the key to her character.

"You, too, are a Moncton, and like the rest of that accursed race, are fair and false. Your dark eyes all fire--your heart as cold as ice.

Proud as Lucifer--inexorable as the grave; woe to those who put any trust in a Moncton! they are certain of disappointment--sure to be betrayed. Pa.s.s by, young sir, I have no doubt that you are like the rest of your kin. I wish them no good, but evil, so you had better not cross my path."

"Your hatred, Dinah, is more to be coveted than your friends.h.i.+p. To incur the first, augurs some good in the person thus honoured; to possess the last, would render us worthy of your curse."

"Ha, ha!" returned the grim fiend, laughing ironically, "your knowledge of the world has given you a bitter spirit. I wish you joy of the acquisition. Time will increase its acrimony. But I like your bluntness of speech, and prophesy from it that you are born to overcome the malignity of your enemies."

"And you," and I fixed my eyes steadily on her hideous countenance, "for what end were you born?"

"To be the curse of others," she answered, with a grim smile, which displayed those glittering white teeth within her faded, fleshless lips, which looked like a row of pearls in a Death's head; and there flashed from her swart eye a red light which made the blood curdle in my veins, as she continued in the same taunting strain--

"I have been of use, too, in my day and generation. I have won many souls, but not for heaven. I have served my master well, and shall doubtless receive my reward."

"This is madness, Dinah North, but without excuse. It is the madness of guilt."

"It is a quality I possess in common with my kind. The world is made up of madmen and fools. It is better to belong to the first than to the latter cla.s.s--to rule, than to be ruled. Between those two parties the whole earth is divided. Knowledge is power, whether it be the knowledge of evil or of good. I heard that sentence when a girl; it never left my mind, and I have acted upon it through life."

"It must have been upon the knowledge of evil--as your deeds can too well testify."

"You have guessed right, young sir. By it, the devil lost heaven, but he gained h.e.l.l. By it tyrants rule, and mean men become rich--virtue is overcome, and vice triumphs."

"And what have you gained by it?"

"Much: it has given me an influence in the world, which without it, never could have belonged to one of my degree. By it, I have swayed the destinies of those whom fortune had apparently placed beyond my reach. It has given me, Geoffrey Moncton, power over thee and thine, and at this very moment, the key of your future fortune is in my keeping."

"And your life in mine, vain boaster! The hour is at hand which shall make even a hardened sinner like you acknowledge that there is a righteous G.o.d who judges in the earth. I ask you not for the secret which you possess, and which, after all, may be a falsehood, in unison with the deceit and treachery that has marked your whole life--a lie, invented to extort money, or to gratify the spite of your malignant heart. The power which punishes the guilty and watches over the innocent, will vindicate the good name of which a wretch like you would fain deprive me."

"Don't be too sure of _celestial_ aid," said she, with a sneer, "but, 'make to yourself friends of the mammon of unrighteousness,' as the wisest policy. Flatter from your Uncle Robert the ill-gotten wealth that his dastardly son, Theophilus, shall never possess."

"This advice comes well from the sordid woman who sold her innocent grandchild to this same Theophilus, in the hope that she might enjoy the rank and fortune which belonged to the good and n.o.ble, and by this unholy act sacrificed the peace--perhaps the eternal happiness of that most wretched creature."

The countenance of the old woman grew dark--dark as night. She fixed upon me a wild, inquiring gaze.

"You speak of Alice. In the name of G.o.d, tell me what has become of her!"

"Upon one condition," said I, laying my hand upon her shoulder and whispering the words into her ear. "Tell me what has become of Philip Mornington."

"Ha!" said the old woman, trying to shake off my grasp; "what do you know of him?"

"Enough to hang you--something that the grave in the dark shrubbery can reveal."

"Has she told you _that_? The fool! the idiot! in so doing she betrayed herself."

"_She_ told me nothing. The eye that witnessed the deed confided to me that secret. The earth will not conceal the stain of blood. Did you never hear that fact before? Is not my secret as good as yours, Dinah North? Are you willing to make an exchange?"

The old woman crouched herself together, and buried her face between her knees. Her hands opened and shut with a convulsive motion, as if they retained something in their grasp with which she was unwilling to part. At length, raising her head, she said in a decided manner:

"The law has lost in you a _worthy_ member; but I accept the terms.

Come to me to-morrow at nine o'clock."

"To-night, or never!"

"Don't try to force or bully me into compliance, young man. At my own time, and in my own way alone, will I gratify your curiosity."

"Well, be it so--to-morrow. I will meet you at the Lodge at nine to-morrow."

She rose from her seat; regarded me with the same withering glance and cutting smile, and gliding past me, vanished among the trees.

Exulting in my success, I exclaimed--"Thank G.o.d I shall know all to-morrow!"

CHAPTER VII.

AN EXPLANATION--DEPARTURE--DISAPPOINTMENT.

I was so elated with the unexpected result of my meeting with Dinah North, that it was not until I missed the fairy figure of my sweet cousin at the supper-table, that my mind reverted to the conversation that had pa.s.sed between us in the Park.

"Where is Miss Moncton?" I asked of Sir Alexander, in a tone and manner which would have betrayed the agitation I felt, to a stranger.

"She is not well, Geoffrey, has a bad headache, or is nervous, I forget which, and begged to be excused joining us to-night. These little female complaints are never dangerous, so don't look alarmed.

My girl is no philosopher, and this double parting affects her spirits. She will be all right again when you come back."

I sighed involuntarily. The provoking old man burst into a hearty laugh.

"I am likely to have a dull companion to-night, Geoffrey. Hang it!

boy, don't look so dismal. Do you think that you are the only man who ever was in love? I was a young man once. Ay, and a fine young man too, or the world and the ladies told great stories, but I never could enact the part of a sentimental lover. Fill your gla.s.s and drive away care. Success to your journey. Our journeys, I might have said--and a happy meeting with little Madge."

I longed to tell Sir Alexander the truth, and repeat to him my conversation with his daughter. But I could not bear to mortify his pride, for I could not fail to perceive that he contemplated a union between us with pleasure, and was doing his best to encourage me to make a declaration of my attachment to Margaret.

I was placed in a most unfortunate predicament, and in order to drown my own miserable feelings, I drank more wine than usual, and gaining an artificial flow of spirits, amused my generous patron with a number of facetious stories and anecdotes, until the night was far advanced, and we both retired to rest.

My brain was too much heated with the wine I had drank to sleep, and after making several ineffectual efforts, I rose from my bed--relighted my candle, and dressing myself, sat down to my desk, and wrote a long letter to Margaretta, in which I informed her of my first meeting with Catherine Lee; the interest which her beauty had created in my heart--the romantic attachment I had formed for her, and which, hopeless as it was, I could not wholly overcome. I a.s.sured Margaretta, that I felt for herself, the greatest affection and esteem--that but for the remembrance of the first pa.s.sion, the idea that she loved me would have made me the happiest of men. That if she would accept the heart I had to offer, divided as I felt it was with another, and my legitimacy could be established, my whole life should be devoted to her alone.

I ended this long candid confession, by relating verbatim my interview with Dinah North, and begged, if possible, that I might exchange a few words with her before leaving the Hall.

I felt greatly relieved by thus unburdening my mind. I had told the honest truth, without fear and without disguise; and I knew that she, who was the mirror of truth, would value my sincerity as it deserved.