"When you saw him last?"
"I bring sad news, ma"am. There"s a break-up at Browndown."
"What do you mean? Where is Mr. Oscar?"
"Mr. Oscar has left Dimchurch."
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-SEVENTH
The Brothers change Places
I VAINLY believed I had prepared myself for any misfortune that could fall on us. The man"s last words dispelled my delusion. My gloomiest forebodings had never contemplated such a disaster as had now happened. I stood petrified, thinking of Lucilla, and looking helplessly at the servant. Try as I might, I was perfectly incapable of speaking to him.
He felt no such difficulty on his side. One of the strangest peculiarities in the humbler ranks of the English people, is the sort of solemn relish which they have for talking of their own misfortunes. To be the objects of a calamity of any kind, seems to raise them in their own estimations. With a dreary enjoyment of his miserable theme, the servant expatiated on his position as a man deprived of the best of masters; turned adrift again in the world to seek another service; hopeless of ever again finding himself in such a situation as he had lost. He roused me at last into speaking to him, by sheer dint of irritating my nerves until I could endure him no longer.
"Has Mr. Oscar gone away alone?" I asked.
"Yes, ma"am, quite alone."
(What had become of Nugent? I was too much interested in Oscar to be able to put the question, at that moment.)
"When did your master go?" I went on.
"Better than two hours since."
"Why didn"t I hear of it before?"
"I had Mr. Oscar"s orders not to tell you, ma"am, till this time in the evening."
Wretched as I was already, my spirits sank lower still when I heard that.
The order given to the servant looked like a premeditated design, not only to leave Dimchurch, but also to keep us in ignorance of his whereabouts afterwards.
"Has Mr. Oscar gone to London?" I inquired.
"He hired Gootheridge"s chaise, ma"am, to take him to Brighton. And he told me with his own lips that he had left Browndown never to come back.
I know no more of it than that."
He had left Browndown, never to come back! For Lucilla"s sake, I declined to believe that. The servant was exaggerating, or the servant had misunderstood what had been said to him. The letter in my hand reminded me that I had perhaps needlessly questioned him on matters which his master had confided to my own knowledge only. Before I dismissed him for the night, I made my deferred inquiry on the hateful subject of the other brother.
"Where is Mr. Nugent?"
"At Browndown."
"Do you mean to say that he is going to stay at Browndown?"
"I don"t know, ma"am, for certain. I see no signs of his meaning to leave; and he has said nothing to that effect."
I had the greatest difficulty to keep myself from breaking out before the servant. My indignation almost choked me. The best way was to wish him good night. I took the best way--only calling him back (as a measure of caution) to say one last word.
"Have you told anybody at the rectory of Mr. Oscar"s departure?" I asked.
"No, ma"am."
"Say nothing, about it then, as you go out. Thank you for bringing me the letter. Good night."
Having thus provided against any whisper of what had happened reaching Lucilla"s ears that evening, I returned to Herr Grosse to make my excuses, and to tell him (as I honestly could) that I was in sore need of being permitted to retire privately to my own room. I found my ill.u.s.trious guest putting a plate over the final dish of the dinner, full of the tenderest anxiety to keep it warm on my account.
"Here is a lofely cheese-omelets," said Grosse. "Two-thirds of him I have eaten my own self. The odder third I sweat with anxiety to keep warm for you. Sit down! sit down! Every moment he is getting cold."
"I am much obliged to you, Herr Grosse. I have just heard some miserable news----"
"Ach, Gott! don"t tell it to me!" the wretch burst out with a look of consternation. "No miserable news, I pray you, after such a dinner as I have eaten. Let me do my digestions! My goot-dear-creature, if you lofe me let me do my digestions!"
"Will you excuse me, if I leave you to your digestion, and retire to my own room?"
He rose in a violent hurry, and opened the door for me.
"Yes! yes! From the deep bottoms of my heart I excuse you. Goot Madame Pratolungo, retire! retire!"
I had barely pa.s.sed the threshold, before the door was closed behind me.
I heard the selfish old brute rub his hands, and chuckle over his success in shutting me and my sorrow both out of the room together.
Just as my hand was on my own door, it occurred to me that I should do well to make sure of not being surprised by Lucilla over the reading of Oscar"s letter. The truth is that I shrank from reading it. In spite of my resolution to disbelieve the servant, the dread was now growing on me that the letter would confirm his statement, and would force it on me as the truth that Oscar had left us never to return. I retraced my steps, and entered Lucilla"s room.
I could just see her, by the dim night-light burning in a cornet to enable the surgeon or the nurse to find their way to her. She was alone in her favorite little wicker-work chair, with the doleful white bandage over her eyes--to all appearance quite content, busily knitting!
"Don"t you feel lonely, Lucilla?"
She turned her head towards me, and answered in her gayest tones.
"Not in the least. I am quite happy as I am.
"Why is Zillah not with you?"
"I sent her away."
"You sent her away?"
"Yes! I couldn"t enjoy myself thoroughly to-night, unless I felt that I was quite alone. I have seen him, my dear--I have seen him! How could you possibly think I felt lonely? I am so inordinately happy that I am obliged to knit to keep myself quiet. If you say much more, I shall get up and dance--I know I shall! Where is Oscar? That odious Grosse--no! it is too bad to talk of the dear old man in that way, after he has given me back my sight. Still it _is_ cruel of him to say that I am overexcited, and to forbid Oscar to come and see me to-night. Is Oscar with you, in the next room? Is he very much disappointed at being parted from me in this way? Say I am thinking of him--since I have seen him--with such new thoughts!"
"Oscar is not here to-night, my dear."
"No? then he is at Browndown of course with that poor wretched disfigured brother of his. I have got over my terror of Nugent"s hideous face. I am even beginning (though I never liked him, as you know) to pity him, with such a dreadful complexion as that. Don"t let us talk about it! Don"t let us talk at all! I want to go on thinking of Oscar."
She resumed her knitting, and shut herself up luxuriously in her own happy thoughts. Knowing what I knew, it was nothing less than heart-breaking to see her and hear her. Afraid to trust myself to say another word, I softly closed the door, and charged Zillah (when her mistress rang her bell) to say for me that I was weary after the events of the day, and had gone to rest in my bed-room.
At last, I was alone. At last I was at the end of my maneuvers to spare myself the miserable necessity of opening Oscar"s letter. After first locking my door, I broke the seal, and read the lines which follow.