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Andrew E. Durham. Compiled by J. Frank Durham, Edited by - "Epistles from Pap: Letters from the man known as 'The Will"

Samuel Pepys - "Diary of Samuel Pepys, February 1667/68"

Nathaniel Hawthorne - "The Christmas Banquet (From Mosses From An Old Manse)"

Edna St. Vincent Millay - "A few Figs from Thistles"

THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY

C >> Charlotte M. Yonge >> THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY




"Oh, there's no getting at his feelings. He was very civil to me--
asked after you, Rachel--told me to give you his thanks, but not a
single word about anything nearer. Then I had to read the paper to
him--all that dinner at Liverpool, and he made remarks, and expected
me to know what it was about. I suppose he does feel; the Colonel
says he is exceedingly cut up, and he looks like a man of eighty,
infinitely worse than last time I saw him, but I don't know what to
make of him."

"And, Alick, did you hear the verdict?"

"What verdict?"

"That man at Avoncester. Mrs. Menteith said there had been a
telegram."

Alick looked startled. "This has put everything out of my head!" he
said. "What was the verdict?"

"That was just what she could not tell. She did not quite know who
was tried."

"And she came here and harassed you with it," he said, looking at her
anxiously. "As if you had not gone through enouqh already."

"Never mind that now. It seems so long ago now that I can hardly
think much about it, and I have had another visitor," she added, as
Mr. Clare left them to themselves, "Mrs. Carleton--that poor son of
hers is in such distress."

"She has been palavering you over," he said, in a tone more like
displeasure than he had ever used towards her.

"Indeed, Alick, if you would listen, you would find him very much to
be pitied."

"I only wish never to hear of any of them again." He did not speak
like himself, and Rachel was aghast.

"I thought you would not object to my letting her in," she began.

"I never said I did," he answered; "I can never think of him but as
having caused her death, and it was no thanks to him that there was
nothing worse."

The sternness of his manner would have silenced Rachel but for her
strong sense of truth and justice, which made her persevere in
saying, "There may have been more excuse than you believe."

"Do you suppose that is any satisfaction to me?" He walked decidedly
away, and entered by the library window, and she stood grieved and
wondering whether she had been wrong in pitying, or whether he were
too harsh in his indignation. It was a sign that her tone and spirit
had recovered, that she did not succumb in judgment, though she felt
utterly puzzled and miserable till she recollected how unwell, weary,
and unhappy he was, and that every fresh perception of his sister's
errors was like a poisoned arrow to him; and then she felt shocked at
having obtruded the subject on him at all, and when she found him
leaning back in his chair, spent and worn out, she waited on him in
the quietest, gentlest way she could accomplish, and tried to show
that she had put the subject entirely aside. However, when they were
next alone together, he turned his face away and muttered, "What did
that woman say to you?"

"Oh, Alick, I am sorry I began! It only gives you pain."

"Go on--"

She did go on till she had told all, and he uttered no word of
comment. She longed to ask whether he disapproved of her having
permitted the interview; but as he did not again recur to the topic,
it was making a real and legitimate use of strength of mind to
abstain from tearing him on the matter. Yet when she recollected
what worldly honour would once have exacted of a military man, and
the conflicts between religion and public opinion, she felt thankful
indeed that half a century lay between her and that terrible code,
and even as it was, perceiving the strong hold that just resentment
had taken on her husband's silently determined nature, she could not
think of the neighbourhood of the Carleton family without dread.




CHAPTER XXVII.



THE POST BAG.



"Thefts, like ivy on a ruin, make the rifts they seem to shade."--
C. G. DUFFY.


"August 3d, 7 A. M.

"My Dear Colonel Keith,--Papa is come, and I have got up so early in
the morning that I have nothing to do but to write to you before we
go in to Avoncester. Papa and Mr. Beechum came by the six o'clock
train, and Lady Temple sent me in the waggonette to meet them. Aunt
Ailie would not go, because she was afraid Aunt Ermine would get
anxious whilst she was waiting. I saw papa directly, and yet I did
not think it could be papa, because you were not there, and he looked
quite past me, and I do not think he would have found me or the
carriage at all if Mr. Beechum had not known me. And then, I am
afraid I was very naughty, but I could not help crying just a little
when I found you had not come; but perhaps Lady Keith may be better,
and you may come before I go into court to-day, and then I shall tear
up this letter. I am afraid papa thought I was unkind to cry when he
was just come home, for he did not talk to me near so much as Mr.
Beechum did, and his eyes kept looking out as if he did not see
anything near, only quite far away. And I suppose Russian coats must
be made of some sort of sheep that eats tobacco."


"August 3d, 10 A. M.

"Dearest Colin,--I have just lighted on poor little Rosie's before-
breakfast composition, and I can't refrain from sending you her first
impressions, poor child, though no doubt they will alter, as she sees
more of her father. All are gone to Avoncester now, though with some
doubts whether this be indeed the critical day; I hope it may be, the
sooner this is over the better, but I am full of hope. I cannot
believe but that the Providence that has done so much to discover
Edward's innocence to the world, will finish the work! I have little
expectation though of your coming down in time to see it, the copy of
the telegraphic message, which you sent by Harry, looks as bad as
possible, and even allowing something for inexperience and fright,
things must be in a state in which you could hardly leave your
brother, so unwell as he seems.

"2 p.m. I was interrupted by Lady Temple, who was soon followed by
Mrs. Curtis, burning to know whether I had any more intelligence than
had floated to them. Pray, if you can say anything to exonerate poor
Rachel from mismanagement, say it strongly; her best friends are so
engaged in wishing themselves there, and pitying poor Bessie for
being in her charge, that I long to confute them, for I fully believe
in her sense and spirit in any real emergency that she had not ridden
out to encounter.

"And I have written so far without a word on the great subject of
all, the joy untold for which our hearts had ached so long, and which
we owe entirely to you, for Edward owns that nothing but your
personal representations would have brought him, and, as I suppose
you already know--he so much hated the whole subject of Maddox's
treachery that he had flung aside, unread, all that he saw related to
it. Dear Colin, whatever else you have done, you have filled a
famished heart. Could you but have seen Ailie's face all last
evening as she sat by his side, you would have felt your reward--it
was as if the worn, anxious, almost stern mask had been taken away,
and our Ailie's face was beaming out as of old when she was the
family pet, before Julia took her away to be finished. She sees no
change; she is in an ecstasy of glamour that makes her constantly
repeat her rejoicings that Edward is so much himself, so unchanged,
till I almost feel unsisterly for seeing in him the traces that these
sad years have left, and that poor little Rose herself has detected.
No, he is not so much changed as exaggerated. The living to himself,
and with so cruel a past, has greatly increased the old dreaminess
that we always tried to combat, and he seems less able than before to
turn his mind into any channel but the one immediately before him.
He is most loving when roused, but infinitely more inclined to fall
off into a muse. I am afraid you must have had a troublesome charge
in him, judging by the uproar Harry makes about the difficulty of
getting him safe from Paddington. It is good to see him and Harry
together--the old schoolboy ways are so renewed, all bitterness so
entirely forgotten, only Harry rages a little that he is not more
wrapped up in Rose. To say the truth, so do I; but if it were not
for Harry's feeling the same, I should believe that you had taught me
to be exacting about my rosebud. Partly, it is that he is
disappointed that she is not like her mother; he had made up his mind
to another Lucy, and her Williams face took him by surprise, and,
partly, he is not a man to adapt himself to a child. She must be
trained to help unobtrusively in his occupations; the unknowing
little plaything her mother was, she never can be. I am afraid he
will never adapt himself to English life again--his soul seems to be
in his mines, and if as you say he is happy and valued there--though
it is folly to look forward to the wrench again, instead of rejoicing
in the present, gladness; but often as I had fashioned that arrival
in my fancy, it was never that Harry's voice, not yours, should say
the 'Here he is.'

"They all went this morning in the waggonette, and the two boys with
Miss Curtis in the carriage. Lady Temple is very kind in coming in
and out to enliven me. I am afraid I must close and send this before
their return. What a day it is! And how are you passing it? I
fear, even at the best, in much anxiety. Lady Temple asks to put in
a line.--Yours ever,
E. W."


"August 3d, 5 P. M.

"My Dear Colonel,--This is just to tell you that dear Ermine is very
well, and bearing the excitement and suspense wonderfully. We were
all dreadfully shocked to hear about poor dear Bessie; it is so sad
her having no mother nor any one but Rachel to take care of her,
though Rachel would do her best, I know. If she would like to have
me, or if you think I could do any good, pray telegraph for me the
instant you get this letter. I would have come this morning, only I
thought, perhaps, she had her aunt. That stupid telegram never said
whether her baby was alive, or what it was, I do hope it is all
right. I should like to send nurse up at once--I always thought she
saved little Cyril when he was so ill. Pray send for nurse or me, or
anything I can send: anyway, I know nobody can be such a comfort as
you; but the only thing there is to wish about you is, that you could
be in two places at once.

"The two boys are gone in to the trial, they were very eager about
it; and dear Grace promises to take care of Conrade's throat. Poor
boys! they had got up a triumphal arch for your return, but I am
afraid I am telling secrets. Dear Ermine is so good and resolutely
composed--quite an example.--Yours affectionately,

"F. G. Temple."


"Avoncester,
August 3d, 2 P. M.

"My Dear Colonel Keith,--I am just come out of court, and I am to
wait at the inn, for Aunt Ailie does not like for me to hear the
trial, but she says I may write to you to pass away the time. I am
sorry I left my letter out to go this morning, for Aunt Ailie says it
is very undutiful to say anything about the sheep's wool in Russia
smelling of tobacco. Conrade says it is all smoking, and that every
one does it who has seen the world. Papa never stops smoking but
when he is with Aunt Ermine, he sat on the box and did it all the way
to Avoncester, and Mr. Beechum said it was to compose his mind.
After we got to Avoncester we had a long, long time to wait, and
first one was called, and then another, and then they wanted me. I
was not nearly so frightened as I was that time when you sent for me,
though there were so many more people; but it was daylight, and the
judge looked so kind, and the lawyer spoke so gently to me, and Mr.
Maddox did not look horrid like that first time. I think he must be
sorry now he has seen how much he has hurt papa. The lawyer asked me
all about the noises, and the lions, and the letters of light, just
as Mr. Grey did; and they showed me papa's old seal ring, and asked
if I knew it, and a seal that was made with the new one that he got
when the other was lost! and I knew them because I used to make
impressions on my arms with them when I was a little girl. There was
another lawyer that asked how old I was, and why I had not told
before; and I thought he was going to laugh at me for a silly little
girl, but the judge would not let him, and said I was a clear-headed
little maiden; and Mr. Beechum came with Aunt Ailie, and took me out
of court, and told me to choose anything in the whole world he should
give me, so I chose the little writing case I am writing with now,
and 'The Heroes' besides, so I shall be able to read till the others
come back, and we go home.--Your affectionate little friend,

"Rose Ermine Williams."


"The Homestead,
August 3d, 9 P. M.

"My Dear Alexander,--You made me promise to send you the full account
of this day's proceedings, or I do not think I should attempt it,
when you may be so sadly engaged. Indeed, I should hardly have gone
to Avoncester had the sad intelligence reached me before I had set
out, when I thought my sudden return would be a greater alarm to my
mother, and I knew that dear Fanny would do all she could for her.
Still she has had a very nervous day, thinking constantly of your
dear sister, and of Rachel's alarm and inexperience; but her
unlimited confidence in your care of Rachel is some comfort, and I am
hoping that the alarm may have subsided, and you may be all
rejoicing. I have always thought that, with dear Rachel, some new
event or sensation would most efface the terrible memories of last
spring. My mother is now taking her evening nap, and I am using the
time for telling you of the day's doings. I took with me Fanny's two
eldest, who were very good and manageable, and we met Mr. Grey, who
put us in very good places, and told us the case was just coming on.
You will see the report in detail in the paper, so I will only try to
give you what you would not find there. I should tell you that
Maddox has entirely dropped his alias. Mr. Grey is convinced that
was only a bold stroke to gain time and prevent the committal, so as
to be able to escape, and that he 'reckoned upon bullying a dense old
country magistrate;' but that he knew it was quite untenable before a
body of unexceptionable witnesses. Altogether the man looked greatly
altered and crest-fallen, and there was a meanness and vulgarity in
his appearance that made me wonder at our ever having credited his
account of himself. He had an abject look, very unlike his confident
manner at the sessions, nor did he attempt his own defence. Mr. Grey
kept on saying he must know that he had not a leg to stand upon.

"The counsel for the prosecution told the whole story, and it was
very touching. I had never known the whole before; the sisters are
so resolute and uncomplaining: but how they must have suffered when
every one thought them ruined by their brother's fraud! I grieve to
think how we neglected them, and only noticed them when it suited our
convenience. Then he called Mr. Beechum, and you will understand
better than I can all about the concern in which they were embarked,
and Maddox coming to him for an advance of £300, giving him a note
from Mr. Williams, asking for it to carry out an invention. The
order for the sum was put into Maddox's hands, and the banker proved
the paying it to him by an order on a German bank.

"Then came Mr. Williams. I had seen him for a moment in setting out,
and was struck with his strange, lost, dreamy look. There is
something very haggard and mournful in his countenance; and, though
he has naturally the same fine features as his eldest sister, his
cheeks are hollow, his eyes almost glassy, and his beard, which is
longer than the Colonel's, very grey. He gave me the notion of the
wreck of a man, stunned and crushed, and never thoroughly alive
again; but when he stood in the witness-box, face to face with the
traitor, he was very different; he lifted up his head, his eyes
brightened, his voice became clear, and his language terse and
concentrated, so that I could believe in his having been the very
able man he was described to be. I am sure Maddox must have quailed
under his glance, there was something so loftily innocent in it, yet
so wistful, as much as to say, 'how could you abuse my perfect
confidence?' Mr. Williams denied having received the money, written
the letter, or even thought of making the request. They showed him
the impression of two seals. He said one was made with a seal-ring
given him by Colonel Keith, and lost some time before he went abroad;
the other, with one with which he had replaced it, and which he
produced,--he had always worn it on his finger. They matched exactly
with the impressions; and there was a little difference in the hair
of the head upon the seal that was evident to every one. It amused
the boys extremely to see some of the old jurymen peering at them
with their glasses. He was asked where he was on the 7th of
September (the date of the letter), and he referred to some notes of
his own, which enabled him to state that on the 6th he had come back
to Prague from a village with a horrible Bohemian name--all cs and
zs--which I will not attempt to write, though much depended on the
number of the said letters.

"The rest of the examination must have been very distressing, for
Maddox's counsel pushed him hard about his reasons for not returning
to defend himself, and he was obliged to tell how ill his wife was,
and how terrified; and they endeavoured to make that into an
admission that he thought himself liable. They tried him with bits
of the handwriting, and he could not always tell which were his own;
--but I think every one must have been struck with his honourable
scrupulosity in explaining every doubt he had.

"Other people were called in about the writing, but Alison Williams
was the clearest of all. She was never puzzled by any scrap they
showed her, and, moreover, she told of Maddox having sent for her
brother's address, and her having copied it from a letter of Mrs.
Williams's, which she produced, with the wrong spelling, just as it
was in the forgery. The next day had come a letter from the brother,
which she showed, saying that they were going to leave the place
sooner than they had intended, and spelling it right. She gave the
same account of the seals, and nothing ever seemed to disconcert her.
My boys were so much excited about their 'own Miss Williams,' that I
was quite afraid they would explode into a cheer.

"That poor woman whom we used to call Mrs. Rawlins told her sad story
next. She is much worn and subdued, and Mr. Grey was struck with the
change from the fierce excitement she showed when she was first
confronted with Maddox, after her own trial; but she held fast to the
same evidence, giving it not resentfully, but sadly and firmly, as if
she felt it to be her duty. She, as you know, explained how Maddox
had obtained access to Mr. Williams's private papers, and how she
had, afterwards, found in his possession the seal ring, and the
scraps of paper in his patron's writing. A policeman produced them,
and the seal perfectly filled the wax upon the forged letter. The
bits of paper showed that Maddox had been practising imitating Mr.
Williams's writing. It all seemed most distinct, but still there was
some sharp cross-examination of her on her own part in the matter,
and Mr. Grey said it was well that little Rose could so exactly
confirm the facts she mentioned.

"Poor, dear little Rose looked very sweet and innocent, and not so
much frightened as at her first examination. She told her story of
the savage way in which she had been frightened into silence. Half
the people in the court were crying, and I am sure it was a mercy
that she was not driven out of her senses, or even murdered that
night. It seems that she was sent to bed early, but the wretches
knowing that she always woke and talked while her mother was going to
bed, the phosphoric letters were prepared to frighten her, and detain
her in her room, and then Maddox growled at her when she tried to
pass the door. She was asked how she knew the growl to be Maddox's,
and she answered that she heard him cough. Rachel will, I am sure,
remember the sound of that little dry cough. Nothing could make it
clearer than that the woman had spoken the truth. The child
identified the two seals with great readiness, and then was sent back
to the inn that she might not be perplexed with hearing the defence.
This, of course, was very trying to us all, since the best the
counsel could do for his client was to try to pick holes in the
evidence, and make the most of the general acquiescence in Mr.
Williams's guilt for all these years. He brought forward letters
that showed that Mr. Williams had been very sanguine about the
project, and had written about the possibility that an advance might
be needed. Some of the letters, which both Mr. Williams and his
sister owned to be in his own writing, spoke in most flourishing
terms of his plans; and it was proved by documents and witnesses that
the affairs were in such a state that bankruptcy was inevitable, so
that there was every motive for securing a sum to live upon. It was
very miserable all the time this was going on, the whole
interpretation, of Mr. Williams's conduct seemed to be so cruelly
twisted aside, and it was what every one had all along believed, his
absence was made so much of, and all these little circumstances that
had seemed so important were held so cheap--one knew it was only the
counsel's representation, and yet Alison grew whiter and whiter under
it. I wish you could have heard the reply: drawing the picture of
the student's absorption and generous confidence, and his agent's
treachery, creeping into his household, and brutally playing on the
terrors of his child.

"Well, I cannot tell you all, but the judge summed up strongly for a
conviction, though he said a good deal about culpable negligence
almost inviting fraud, and I fear it must have been very distressing
to the Williamses, but the end was that Maddox was found guilty, and
sentenced to fourteen years' penal servitude, though I am afraid they
will not follow Conrade's suggestion, and chain up a lion by his bed
every night of his life.

"We were very happy when we met at the inn, and all shook hands.
Dr. Long was, I think, the least at ease. He had come in case this
indictment had in any way failed, to bring his own matter forward, so
that Maddox should not get off. I do not like him very much, he
seemed unable to be really hearty, and I think he must have once been
harsh and now ashamed of it. Then he was displeased at Colonel
Keith's absence, and could hardly conceal how much he was put out by
the cause, as if he thought the Colonel had imposed himself on the
family as next heir. I hardly know how to send all this in the
present state of things, but I believe you will wish to have it, and
will judge how much Rachel will bear to hear. Good night.--Your
affectionate Sister,

"Grace Curtis."


"Gowanbrae,
Avonmouth,
August 3d, 11 P. M.

"Dear Keith,--Before this day has ended you must have a few lines
from the man whom your exertions have relieved from a stigma, the
full misery of which I only know by the comfort of its removal. I
told you there was much that could never be restored. I feel this
all the more in the presence of all that now remains to me, but I did
not know how much could still be given back. The oppression of the
load of suspicion under which I laboured now seems to me to have been
intolerable since I have been freed from it. I cannot describe how
changed a man I have felt, since Beechum shook hands with me. The
full blackness of Maddox's treachery I had not known, far less his
cruelty to my child. Had I been aware of all I could not have
refrained from trying to bring him to justice; but there is no need
to enter into the past. It is enough that I owe to you a freed
spirit, and new life, and that my gratitude is not lessened by the
knowledge that something besides friendship urged you. Ermine is
indeed as attractive as ever, and has improved in health far more
than I durst expect. I suppose it is your all-powerful influence.
You are first with all here, as you well deserve, even my child, who
is as lovely and intelligent as you told me, has every thought
pervaded with 'the Colonel.' She is a sweet creature; but there was
one who will never be retraced, and forgive me, Keith, without her,
even triumph must be bitterness.--Still ever most gratefully yours,

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