"Certainly," was his immediate answer, without testifying any confusion--"I will fetch my hat." He went into the house for a moment.
"Do you suspect these people?" whispered Lord Chester.
"Not suspect," said I, "but doubt."
We proceeded down the avenue: "Where is Mr. Dawson?" said I to Thornton.
"Oh, within!" answered Thornton.
"Shall I fetch him?"
"Do," was my brief reply.
Thornton was absent some minutes; when he re-appeared, Dawson was following him. "Poor fellow," said he to me in a low tone--"he was so shocked by the sight, that he is still all in a panic; besides, as you will see, he is half drunk still."
I made no answer, but looked narrowly at Dawson; he was evidently, as Thornton said, greatly intoxicated: his eyes swam, and his feet staggered as he approached us; yet, through all the natural effects of drunkenness, he seemed nervous and frightened. This, however, might be the natural, and consequently innocent effect, of the mere sight of an object so full of horror; and, accordingly, I laid little stress upon it.
We reached the fatal spot: the body seemed perfectly unmoved. "Why,"
said I, apart to Thornton, while all the rest were crowding fearfully round the corpse--"why did you not take the body within?"
"I was going to return here with our servant for that purpose," answered the gambler; "for poor Dawson was both too drunk and too nervous to give me any a.s.sistance."
"And how came it," I rejoined, eyeing him searchingly, "that you and your friend had not returned home when I called there, although you had both long since pa.s.sed me on the road, and I had never overtaken you?"
Thornton, without any hesitation, replied--"because, during the violence of the shower, we cut across the fields to an old shed, which we recollected, and we remained there till the rain had ceased."
"They are probably innocent," thought I--and I turned to look once more at the body which our companions had now raised. There was upon the head a strong contusion, as if inflicted by some blunt and heavy instrument.
The fingers of the right hand were deeply gashed, and one of them almost dissevered: the unfortunate man had, in all probability, grasped the sharp weapon from which his other wounds proceeded; these were one wide cut along the throat, and another in the side; either of them would have occasioned his death.
In loosening the clothes another wound was discovered, but apparently of a less fatal nature; and in lifting the body, the broken blade of a long sharp instrument, like a case-knife, was discovered. It was the opinion of the surgeon, who afterwards examined the body, that the blade had been broken by coming in contact with one of the rib bones; and it was by this that he accounted for the slightness of the last mentioned wound. I looked carefully among the fern and long gra.s.s, to see if I could discover any other token of the murderer: Thornton a.s.sisted me. At the distance of some feet from the body, I thought I perceived something glitter. I hastened to the place, and picked up a miniature. I was just going to cry out, when Thornton whispered--"Hush! I know the picture; it is as I suspected."
An icy thrill ran through my very heart. With a desperate but trembling hand, I cleansed from the picture the blood, in which, notwithstanding its distance from the corpse, the grater part of it was bathed. I looked upon the features; they were those of a young and singularly beautiful female. I recognized them not: I turned to the other side of the miniature; upon it were braided two locks of hair--one was the long, dark ringlet of a woman, the other was of a light auburn. Beneath were four letters. I looked eagerly at them. "My eyes are dim," said I, in a low tone to Thornton, "I cannot trace the initials."
"But I can," replied he, in the same whispered key, but with a savage exultation, which made my heart stand still--"they are G. D., R. G.; they are the initials of Gertrude Douglas and Reginald Glanville."
I looked up at the speaker--our eyes met--I grasped his hand vehemently.
He understood me. "Put it up," said he; "we will keep the secret." All this, so long in the recital, pa.s.sed in the rapidity of a moment.
"Have you found any thing there, Pelham?" shouted one of our companions.
"No!" cried I, thrusting the miniature in my bosom, and turning unconcernedly away.
We carried the corpse to Dawson"s house. The poor wife was in fits. We heard her scream as we laid the body upon a table in the parlour.
"What more can be done?" said Lord Chester.
"Nothing," was the general answer. No excitation makes the English people insensible to the chance of catching cold!
"Let us go home, then, and send to the nearest magistrate," exclaimed our host: and this proposal required no repet.i.tion.
On our way, Chester said to me, "That fellow Dawson looked devilish uneasy--don"t you still suspect him and his friend?"
"I do not!" answered I, emphatically.
VOLUME VI.
CHAPTER LXVI.
And now I"m the world alone, ............ But why for others should I groan, When none will sigh for me?--Byron.
The whole country was in confusion at the news of the murder. All the myrmidons of justice were employed in the most active research for the murderers. Some few persons were taken up on suspicion, but were as instantly discharged. Thornton and Dawson underwent a long and rigorous examination; but no single t.i.ttle of evidence against them appeared: they were consequently dismissed. The only suspicious circ.u.mstance against them, was their delay on the road; but the cause given, the same as Thornton had at first a.s.signed to me, was probable and natural. The shed was indicated, and, as if to confirm Thornton"s account, a glove belonging to that person was found there. To crown all, my own evidence, in which I was constrained to mention the circ.u.mstance of the m.u.f.fled horseman having pa.s.sed me on the road, and being found by me on the spot itself, threw the whole weight of suspicion upon that man, whoever he might be.
All attempts, however, to discover him were in vain. It was ascertained that a man, m.u.f.fled in a cloak, was seen at Newmarket, but not remarkably observed; it was also discovered, that a person so habited had put up a grey horse to bait in one of the inns at Newmarket; but in the throng of strangers, neither the horse nor its owner had drawn down any particular remark.
On further inquiry, testimony differed; four or five men, in cloaks, had left their horses at the stables; one ostler changed the colour of the steed to brown, a second to black, a third deposed that the gentleman was remarkably tall, and the waite swore solemnly he had given a gla.s.s of brandy and water to an unked looking gentleman, in a cloak, who was remarkably short. In fine, no material point could be proved, and though the officers were still employed in active search, they could trace nothing that promised a speedy discovery.
As for myself, as soon as I decently could, I left Chester Park, with a most satisfactory dispatch in my pocket, from its possessor to Lord Dawton, and found myself once more on the road to London!
Alas! how different were my thoughts! How changed the temper of my mind, since I had last travelled that road. Then I was full of hope, energy, ambition--of interest for Reginald Glanville--of adoration for his sister; and now, I leaned back listless and dispirited, without a single feeling to gladden the restless and feverish despair which, ever since that night, had possessed me. What was ambition henceforth to me?
The most selfish amongst us must have some human being to whom to refer--with whom to connect--to a.s.sociate--to treasure the triumphs and gratifications of self. Where now was such a being to me? My earliest friend, for whom my esteem was the greater for his sorrows, my interest the keener for his mystery, Reginald Glanville, was a murderer! a dastardly, a barbarous felon, whom the chance of an instant might convict!--and she--she, the only woman in the world I had ever really loved--who had ever pierced the thousand folds of my ambitious and scheming heart--she was the sister of the a.s.sa.s.sin!
Then came over my mind the savage and exulting eye of Thornton, when it read the d.a.m.ning record of Glanville"s guilt; and in spite of my horror at the crime of my former friend, I trembled for his safety: nor was I satisfied with myself at my prevarication as a witness. It is true, that I had told the truth, but I had concealed all the truth; and my heart swelled proudly and bitterly against the miniature which I still concealed in my bosom.
Light as I may seem to the reader, bent upon the pleasures and the honours of the great world, as I really was, there had never, since I had recognized and formed a decided code of principles, been a single moment in which I had transgressed it; and perhaps I was sterner and more inflexible in the tenets of my morality, such as they were, than even the most zealous worshipper of the letter, as well as the spirit of the law and the prophets, would require. Certainly there were many pangs within me, when I reflected, that to save a criminal, in whose safety I was selfishly concerned, I had tampered with my honour, paltered with the truth, and broken what I felt to be a peremptory and inviolable duty. Let it be for ever remembered, that once acknowledge and ascertain that a principle is publicly good, and no possible private motive should ever induce you to depart from it.
It was with a heightened pulse, and a burning cheek, that I entered London; before midnight I was in a high fever; they sent for the vultures of physic--I was bled copiously--I was kept quiet in bed for six days, at the end of that time, my const.i.tution and youth restored me. I took up one of the newspapers listlessly: Glanville"s name struck me; I read the paragraph which contained it--it was a high-flown and fustian panegyric on his genius and promise. I turned to another column, it contained a long speech he had the night before made in the House of Commons.
"Can such things be?" thought I; yea, and thereby hangs a secret and an anomaly in the human heart. A man may commit the greatest of crimes, and (if no other succeed to it,) it changes not the current of his being--to all the world--to all intents--for all objects, he may be the same.
He may equally serve his country--equally benefit his friends--be generous--brave--benevolent, all that he was before. One crime, however heinous, makes no revolution in the system--it is only the perpetual course of sins, vices, follies, however insignificant they may seem, which alters the nature and hardens the heart.
My mother was out of town when I returned there. They had written to her during my illness, and while I was yet musing over the day"s journal, a letter from her was put into my hand. I transcribe it.
"My Dearest Henry,
"How dreadfully uneasy I am about you: write to me directly. I would come to town myself, but am staying with dear Lady Dawton, who wont hear of my going; and I cannot offend her for your sake. By the by, why have you not called upon Lord Dawton? but, I forgot, you have been ill. My dear, dear child, I am wretched about you, and now pale your illness will make you look! just too, as the best part of the season is coming on. How unlucky! Pray, don"t wear a black cravat when you next call on Lady Roseville; but choose a very fine baptiste one--it will make you look rather delicate than ill. What physician do you have? I hope, in G.o.d, that it is Sir Henry Halford. I shall be too miserable if it is not. I am sure no one can conceive the anguish I suffer. Your father, too, poor man, has been laid up with the gout for the last three days.
Keep up your spirits, my dearest child, and get some light books to entertain you; but, pray, as soon as you are well, do go to Lord Dawton"s--he is dying to see you; but be sure not to catch cold. How did you like Lady Chester? Pray take the greatest care of yourself, and write soon to
"Your wretched, and most
"Affectionate Mother,
"F. P.