Lady Pollexfen was obliged to go to bed almost immediately after the departure of Mr. Madgin from Dupley Walls. Now that the long-coveted gem was in her possession, the excitement that had upheld her during the ardour of pursuit at once died out, leaving her utterly prostrate and to all appearance half-a-dozen years older than when she rose in the morning. The reaction was too much for her enfeebled health, and she lay in bed all that day and all the following day, speaking little to any one, but often talking disconnectedly to herself, and seeming sometimes as though she were addressing imaginary persons by her bedside. During the whole of this time she held the Diamond, now in one hand, now in the other, often gazing at it, sometimes kissing it and talking to it as though it could understand everything she said.
But whatever might be the mental hallucinations of Lady Pollexfen at this time, her perception of the real events that were happening round her, and her criticism of those in attendance on her, were in no degree impaired. She had never exacted more attention from Miss Holme: had never been more difficult to please. She would not allow her invitation to Mr. Madgin to be countermanded. That gentleman, accordingly, dined in solitary state in the great saloon, waited on by the solemn butler, and treated in every respect as a guest of distinction. Her ladyship sent down her compliments by Miss Holme, with an expression of regret at her inability to join Mr. Madgin at table. The next day she was somewhat better, and the day following that she was up and about again, wandering restlessly to and fro through the stately but silent rooms, or on to the warm south terrace for a few minutes in the middle of the day. But it seemed to Janet that the old woman's arm rested more heavily on hers than it was wont to do, that she walked more slowly, and had to halt more frequently to rest. That strange wakefulness which would not allow her to sleep except by fits and starts, was still upon her. She had caused Janet's bed to be removed into a corner of her own large room, so that Janet might be more immediately within call. Many were the nights that Janet never got into bed at all, but had to satisfy herself with flying snatches of sleep in a large armchair by her ladyship's bedside. Sometimes Lady Pollexfen would lie awake for two or three hours in the middle of the night with wide-open eyes fixed solemnly on the canopy over her head, requiring no attendance, and never speaking except when she perceived signs of drowsiness in Janet, who was stationed where she could be seen by a mere turn of the eyes. Then would her ladyship's voice ring out clear and sharp: "Miss Holme! Miss Holme the devil is behind you, about to cut off your hair with a pair of shears." Or perhaps, "Miss Holme! Miss Holme! there is a large grey rat staring at you out of the corner. Do make haste and frighten him away."
Janet had neither seen nor heard anything of Major Strickland for more than a week. Her fears were beginning to overmaster her. She had a prevision that there was ill news in store for her. Would the errand on which George Strickland was gone bring her happiness or misery? was the question which she was continually putting to herself. Had she a father alive? and if alive, would he prove to be a friend--a protector? Or, would he prove to be one whom she could neither love nor reverence?--one who by his conduct to her mother had shown of what falsehood and treachery his heart was compact? Hard and dreary as was her life at Dupley Walls since the death of Sister Agnes, it was still redeemed by occasional flying gleams of sunshine--sunshine which left some portion of its warmth in her heart after its brightness had passed away. What she dreaded was that George Strickland's quest might so result as to deprive her of even this consolation; that it might result in proving her to be the daughter of some ruined and disgraced man who would claim her as his own, and sever with a merciless hand all those sweet tendrils of love and friendship from which her heart's sole nourishment was derived. At length the suspense grew intolerable. She wrote and despatched a brief note to Major Strickland, begging earnestly for news of some kind. This note crossed the major on the road, who was on his way that very morning to Dupley Walls with the view of telling Janet the news, or such portions of it as he might deem advisable, with which his nephew had reached home over night.
So jealous and exacting had Lady Pollexfen become of late, that the major could not go boldly into the house and ask to see Miss Holme. To have done so would have entirely defeated the object of his visit, and would have simply resulted in making Janet for the time being a closer prisoner than ever. But the major was diplomatic. Making his way through the side entrance to Dolly Dance's room, he contrived to get a whispered message delivered to Miss Holme; but even then he had to wait upwards of two hours before Janet could steal away for a few minutes to listen to what he had to say.
The story which George Strickland had to tell after his return from Jersey was a far more surprising one than the major had expected to hear. Many of its details were of too painful a nature ever to be communicated to Janet.
How could it benefit any one to tell the dead man's daughter that her father had been a gambler and a roué, and that he had ended a disgraceful career by committing suicide? Why pain a tender heart by such details? It would be pained sufficiently to know that the father it had hoped to find had only been found when it was too late for him to look upon his daughter in this world--too late even to know that there was a creature so near akin to him in existence. Therefore, as he walked slowly through the park on his way to Dupley Walls, the major conned over and over the story he had made up his mind to tell, and it was a story which he needed to repeat many times to himself before telling it aloud, for the old soldier was a bad hand at concealments of any kind.
Janet's tears came the moment she set eyes on Major Strickland. She was worn out with anxiety and the long vigils she had had to keep of late. The major drew her towards him and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. Then her sobs came unrestrainedly, and for a little while she could not give utterance to a word. The major placed her in a chair and sat down beside her, and gazed at her with anxious eyes, rubbing one of her hands tenderly between his own withered palms, till Janet had in some degree recovered her serenity.
"George reached home last night from his journey," the major ventured to say at last.
Janet's heart began to beat hurriedly. She looked up into the major's eyes, and read something there that turned her cheek even paler than it was before.
"You have some bad news to tell me," she said in a low voice, while her hand squeezed that of the major tightly.
"My poor child! you have neither a mother nor a father," said the major, with a returning pressure of the hand.
Janet sighed.
"I am no poorer off than I imagined myself to be," she said quietly.
"I have not told you all. Unknown to you, unknown to your mother, your father has been alive all these years. He was living at the time your mother died, and had not our search for him been delayed so long after that event, he would have learnt that he had a daughter grown up to woman's estate whom he had never seen, and who had never seen him. But when George found him he was deaf to all earthly sounds. Poverina mia, your father died nine days ago."
On Janet's face, as the major said those words, came a look of pain and bewilderment pitiful to see.
"Poor, poor papa!" she murmured. "Only two short weeks ago, and I might have seen him and spoken to him, and have told him how dearly I would love him. If we had but known! If we had but known!"
She was crying quietly and pitifully by this time, in a way that made the old soldier's heart ache to witness.
"Great heaven! what a treasure that man missed when he missed the love of this dear child," said the major to himself.
"You must please tell me all about it," said Janet after a little while. "What you have just stated seems so utterly strange to me, that at present I can hardly realize the fact that I have not really been the fatherless girl I have all along believed myself to be. Ah! dear Major Strickland, how much I owe to you and other kind friends! Had it not been for your efforts in my behalf, I should never have known what you have told me to-day."
"It would perhaps have been as well for your peace of mind if you never had known it."
"Indeed, dear Major Strickland, you must not say that. The truth can never injure us. But now you will tell me, will you not, all that you know or have heard respecting this father whom I shall never see on earth?"
But it was not the major's intention to tell Janet all that he knew respecting Captain Ducie. The story he did tell her was a mild version of the one that had been told him.
He could not conceal from her the fact that Captain Ducie had purposely abandoned his wife, nor that he had led her to believe that he had been drowned in order that the tie between them might be more completely severed. But he softened both circumstances in the telling, and made as many excuses for the dead man as if he had been a brother of his own.
On Captain Ducie's after-career he dwelt lightly and tenderly, contriving to leave on Janet's mind the impression that her father had been more sinned against than sinning.
Finally, he altogether suppressed the fact of Ducie's suicide, and left Janet to suppose, that although her father's death had been a sudden one, it had proceeded from causes that were natural and entirely beyond his own control. What information he had gathered respecting Captain Ducie's relatives and connexions he left to be told at some future time.
But now the day was drawing near which had been fixed by Sir John Pollexfen in his will as that on which his body should be committed to the vault where the bones of several generations of his ancestors already reposed. Sir John would soon have been dead twenty years. On the twentieth anniversary of his decease, his body would leave Dupley Walls for ever.
That this day had long been looked forward to by Lady Pollexfen, Janet was well aware.
The fierce old woman had often declared that not till the dead body of her husband should be removed from Dupley Walls, would the curse that had rested on the house from the day of his death be lifted off it, and rendered powerless for further harm.
In one of the galleries was a portrait of Sir John, which during the last twelve months had been visited daily by Lady Pollexfen. Every time she visited it, she made a practice of sticking a pin through some part of the figure, and leaving it there.
"One day less, Sir John, before the worms claim you as their own," was her usual remark on these occasions.
And then she would nod her head and jeer at the painted semblance of her dead husband.
"We shall have quite a little jubilee the day you leave us, by which you may judge how grieved we shall be to part from you. Another pin. Oh! that you could feel them, and that I could thus repay you in part for some of the thousands of heart-aches you caused me when you were alive!"
After she began to recover from the state of mental and bodily prostration into which she had sunk when no longer sustained by the excitement consequent on the search for the Diamond, she was not long before she was about again, apparently as well and strong as she had been for the last year or two. But to Janet it seemed that much of her strength was factitious, and that it did not arise from any real improvement in her health, but rather from the necessity which seemed to sit so heavily upon her of being up and doing on the day of Sir John's departure. To be lying weak and ill in bed on such a day would have seemed like an acknowledgment of regret for the departure of her husband to which her proud spirit could by no means submit.
She spoke nothing but the truth when she said that she so thoroughly detested the memory of the man, that it would be a day of jubilee for her when his body was borne out of her sight for ever.
She was probably influenced in her determination by another reason, but one which she would have been slow to acknowledge even to herself.
Her mind was powerfully impressed with the idea, that not only was the lifeless body of her husband under the roof of Dupley Walls, but that the house was haunted by his incorporeal presence; that, in fact, his spirit was doomed to wander unrestingly in and about the old house so long as his body--in accordance with his own foolish wish--remained unburied and unsanctified by the rites of Christian sepulture.
Hence the strange habit into which she had fallen of addressing her husband as though he were standing, an invisible presence, close by her elbow, and was cognizant of all she said.
It could not be other than a source of satisfaction to Janet to know that her midnight visits to the Black Room were so soon to come to an end. The duty she had there to perform was one which not even the custom of years could have rendered otherwise than distasteful to her. She never could quite conquer the superstitious thrill which touched her from head to foot every time she opened the door of the dreaded room. She never could quite get over the feeling that an unseen pair of eyes was watching her from behind the funereal drapery that clothed the walls. She could never descend the stairs on her way back to the habitable regions of the house without a nervous shiver at the thought that perhaps some shadowy hand was being put forth to clutch her from behind, Janet could not, therefore, be otherwise than pleased to think that the silent tenant of Dupley Walls would so soon have to find another and a more permanent home.
Lady Pollexfen had named the date a month beforehand which was fixed for the removal of Sir John.
At length the last midnight arrived. Janet had been reading to her ladyship, and when the clock pointed to five minutes to twelve she shut the book and rose to go.
"I will go with you to-night," said her ladyship, who to all appearance had been dozing for the last half hour, although Janet had not on that account been allowed to lay down her book.
So arm-in-arm the two went slowly up the long staircases with many a halt to gather breath. At length the door of the Black Room was reached and opened. Preceded by her ladyship Janet went in. While she went about her customary duty, Lady Pollexfen stood sternly erect, resting her crossed hands on the head of her cane, and gazing with hard unmoved countenance on the coffin of her dead husband.
Janet in her twilight walk through the garden a few hours previously had found a couple of late roses. These she had plucked and had fastened them into the bosom of her dress: she now took them out of her dress, and laid them reverently on the coffin.
"What are you about, child?" cried Lady Pollexfen in her most imperious tones. "Flowers are not for such as he. Take them away. For him you should bring the deadly nightshade and hemlock, and all plants that are hurtful to human life. There are some men, child, that, like the fatal upas tree, have power to blight and poison all who come within their influence. Such a man was he who is nailed up in that box. He blighted my life; he poisoned my son's life, and drove him abroad to die in a strange land; he withered the lives of my two daughters, and not content with the evil which he did while living, he left his dead body as a curse that should haunt my life for twenty wretched years. That term is now at an end, and after to-morrow I shall grow twenty years younger, feeling and knowing that neither in time nor in eternity will his baneful presence ever haunt me again."
Suddenly she clutched Janet by the arm, and drew the girl closer to her. "He is there!" she said--"there, behind the black curtains, watching me, listening to every word that I say--as he used to watch and listen when he was alive. There is the same meanness, the same low trickery about him now that he is dead that marked him when he was living. He often visits me--often talks to me--and although he will not acknowledge it, I know that when once his body shall be laid in the vault at Dene Folly, I shall have seen and spoken with him for the last time. To-night, child, you must sit by my bedside all night long, and read aloud from some godly book. Then he will have no power to come near me or harm me. But you must not go to sleep nor cease your reading till you see the first streaks of daylight in the east: after that we are safe. I said he was there. See how yonder curtain stirs and flutters. He will not show himself because you are here. It is only I, I who was his miserable wife for twenty-three long years, that he cares to torment. But come. Let us tarry here no longer. This is his last night, thank heaven! beneath the roof of Dupley Walls."
They went downstairs together as they had come, arm-in-arm, her ladyship shaking her head and mumbling to herself all the way as she went. Then she got into bed, and Janet sat by her side all night, reading aloud from a "godly book," while the old woman lay without stirring, with wide-staring solemn eyes that seemed to be gazing on some far-away picture, the subject of which was known to herself alone.
To Mr. Madgin was entrusted the charge of conveying the body of Sir John Pollexfen to its final resting-place at Dene Folly, forty miles away; and Mr. Madgin was to be the sole "mourner" on the occasion. So Lady Pollexfen willed it. The body was to leave Dupley Walls at midnight, and be conveyed to the nearest railway station. After a journey of thirty miles by rail it would be met by another hearse and mourning-coach by means of which the third and last stage of the journey would be accomplished.
At a quarter to twelve precisely a hearse and mourning-coach drew up before the main entrance to Dupley Walls. The door was thrown open, and Mr. Madgin--solemn, dignified--glided in, followed by a number of familiars in black. Still led by Mr. Madgin, they trooped up the grand staircase like so many birds of evil omen hastening to some unholy feast. Not long were they away. Presently they reappeared, carrying on their shoulders the burden for which they had come. Slowly and carefully they descended the stairs, and were just crossing the hall on their way out, when an imperious voice commanded, them to halt.
There, in the opposite gallery, stood the weird figure of Lady Pollexfen, her palsied head working awfully, her skinny hands trembling with nervous excitement, and the gems on her fingers scintillating in the lamplight. She was attired in her bridal dress of white satin and lace--a dress which she had not worn for forty-three years. Her black wig was gaily trimmed with flowers and scraps of lace, and in one hand she carried a large bouquet. A foot or two behind her stood Miss Holme.
She had commanded the bearers to halt, and they now stood gazing with wonder on this strange apparition. "In that shell lies the body of my husband, Sir John Pollexfen," she began, speaking in clear high-bred tones that could be plainly heard by everyone there. "He died twenty years ago this very day. When he died, there was not even one eye to weep for him, or one heart to mourn for him. All who had known him were glad that they should never see him more. By a most unholy will he devised that his body should be kept unburied for the space of twenty years, and that under whatever roof I might choose to reside he also should there find a resting-place for the time being; the dead and the living were, in fact, to keep each other company all that time. Should I fail in carrying out his commands, the whole of the property left thus conditionally to me, was to pass away to others. I have carried out his commands; but here, to-night, in presence of you strangers, and with my eyes fixed for the last time on that coffin, I say to you, deliberately and solemnly: Would that I had never been born rather than have married that man! Would that I had died on my wedding-day rather than have had children to call him father! Would that I had died on the day that he died rather than have undertaken the burden which his wicked commands laid on my shoulders! I hate myself because I bear his name. I hate this house because it has sheltered him. Take his wretched body away out of my sight for ever!"
The procession moved slowly forward across the hall, and out through the great door. A minute or two later, and hearse and coach set out on their midnight journey through the park. Then the great door was shut and locked by the solemn butler; and the same moment Lady Pollexfen staggered, and would have fallen to the ground had not Janet sprung forward in time to catch her as she fell.
Lady Pollexfen recovered sooner than might have been expected from the fainting fit into which she had fallen just as the hearse containing the body of Sir John Pollexfen moved away from Dupley Walls. She was very wakeful and restless all night, talking much, sometimes to Janet, sometimes to herself. Soon after daybreak she turned suddenly to Janet.
"I have decided to travel," she said. "A change will do me good. I have been confined to Dupley Walls for so many years that I almost forget what the outside world is like. This Indian summer will last a few days longer, and we will take advantage of it. We will go, in the first place, to North Wales, which I have not visited since I was eighteen. As soon as we are tired of Wales we will set out for London, and after a few days there we will take wing for the South of France and there winter. Yes, we will start at once,--this very day. Order my boxes to be packed, and ascertain at what hour this afternoon there is a train that stops at Tydsbury by which we can get on to Chester."
"If your ladyship will allow me to make a suggestion," said Janet.
"I will not allow anything of the kind," answered Lady Pollexfen.
"Considering the state of your ladyship's health, I think it highly advisable that you see Dr. Jones and obtain his sanction before undertaking so arduous a journey."
"And pray, Mademoiselle Coasseuse, who gave you power to dictate under this roof? It is mine to command, and yours to obey. Carry out the instructions I have given you, and trouble yourself not at all about my health, which was never better than it is this morning."
That night Lady Pollexfen and Miss Holme slept at Chester. Next morning they took train for Bangor, at which place they designed to stay for a few days.
Lady Pollexfen's opinion that a change of air would prove beneficial to her seemed to be borne out by the result. It was almost as if she had taken a fresh lease of life. Her appetite improved, her strength increased, her vivacity was unfailing. Day and night Janet was her constant attendant. Had not Janet's constitution been of the best, and had she not been full of energy and spirit, she must have broken down under the ordeal which at this time she had to undergo. Besides having the entire personal charge of Lady Pollexfen, the whole of the travelling arrangements (they had three servants with them) were under her supervision and control. Each evening she had to furnish her ladyship with a detailed account of the day's expenditure, and had to be admonished that this charge was excessive, or that one unnecessary, and be querulously scolded if the dinner happened to be bad, or the beds uncomfortable; or be asked to explain why she, Lady Pollexfen, had been dragged to the "Crown Hotel," when anyone with an atom of common sense might have seen that the "Red Lion" over the way would have been both more economical and more comfortable to stay at. Later on came the long weary readings aloud--readings which were often prolonged till far into the small hours.
To Janet's surprise--although one could hardly be surprised at anything so eccentric a person might choose to do--Lady Pollexfen brought the Great Mogul Diamond with her on her travels. It was a most injudicious thing to do, and much of Janet's time and attention were taken up in seeing that her ladyship neither lost the precious gem nor had it stolen from her. This was a duty that came in a little while to weigh so heavily on Janet that she could not get her thoughts away from the Diamond even when asleep, but would start up in bed fancying she heard stealthy footsteps crossing the floor, or that someone outside was trying the door of her ladyship's room.
In the daytime Lady Pollexfen carelessly carried the Diamond in a small leather satchel that she wore buckled round her waist. At night it was either laid under her pillow, or else held tightly in her hand while she slept. Once or twice Janet ventured gently to expostulate, but was immediately silenced, and told to keep her observations to herself for the future.
As Lady Pollexfen told Janet, she had not been in North Wales since she was eighteen years old. Now that she had come back to it in her old age her intention was to revisit each scene that was hallowed in her memory as having been in some way connected with her first visit.
What it was that made this first visit to Wales one of the happiest recollections of an unhappy life, Janet could not quite make out; but that the recollection was a happy one there could be no doubt. Lady Pollexfen said nothing directly to Janet which would throw any light on the point; but she was continually muttering to herself, with a happy smile on her face, and mentioning the names of the places they had visited, or were about to visit, in connexion with the names of people that Janet had never heard of before.
From Bangor they went to several places, some of them on the sea coast, some of them in the interior, but seldom stopping longer than a day in each. One evening when Janet went to her ladyship to obtain the next day's route, said the latter: "To-morrow we will go to Ben Dulas. If the place is like what it used to be, the accommodation is limited, consequently the servants may as well await our return here. Order an open carriage for nine to-morrow morning. We shall be one night away."
By a few minutes past nine next morning Lady Pollexfen and Miss Holme were on their way to Ben Dulas. The road was a rugged one, winding and ascending through a picturesque and hilly country for nearly a dozen miles. Habitations of any kind were few and far between, and the last mile or two of their journey was through the wildest and most desolate tract of country that Janet had ever seen. Their road lay at the bottom of a narrow valley, but of a valley that stood high above the level of the sea. On both sides they were shut in by grey precipitous rocks that towered far above them, and which here and there were riven and smitten as if by some terrible throe of Nature in ages long gone by. At length this narrow valley debouched on to a small grassy plateau about a mile in circumference, which, in its turn, was shut in by hills still higher than those which had formed the walls of the valley. At the upper end of this plateau stood a grim moss-grown old building of considerable size, half farm house, half country inn. At this place they halted, and in answer to Janet's enquiries were told in broken English that they could be accommodated for the night.
Lady Pollexfen was in high good humour. "This place is changed the least of any that I remember as a girl," she said. "It might only have been yesterday that I was here, for any difference that I can discern. Ah! what a happy time it was. But let us rest and have luncheon, and after that we will go and see the tarn of Ben Dulas."
So, when luncheon was over, and her ladyship was sufficiently rested, Janet rang the bell and, as instructed, asked for a guide to the tarn. The guide, who was indeed the landlord of the house, was ready in five minutes, and after waiting till her ladyship was duly shawled for the excursion, they set out, Lady Pollexfen and Janet being each mounted on a small sure-footed pony, while the guide trudged along on foot. The road they took was a gloomy and narrow defile that wound precipitously up among the further hills. It was scarcely wide enough for four pedestrians to walk along it shoulder to shoulder. Here and there the rocks on either hand overhung the road, so that a mere ribbon of sky could be seen between them. Here and there the road wound under rude archways that had been hewn out of the rock in years long gone by. The profound silence was broken only by the clatter of their ponies' hoofs on the flinty roadway. Anything so desolate and lonely Janet had never seen. After journeying thus for a mile and a half they reached a small circular opening among the hills, in the middle of which, like a table of black steel, spread the darkling waters of Ben Dulas tarn.
"You can come for us in an hour," said Lady Pollexfen to the guide as she and Janet dismounted.
"Give me your arm, child," added her ladyship. Then they walked slowly down to the margin of the tarn, which was set about with thick coarse rushes, and seated themselves on two large boulders, as round and smooth as if they had been worn by the action of the waves for a thousand years.
The place was wild and desolate in the extreme. On every side it was shut in by great hills, bare, treeless, solemn--giants who for unnumbered ages had stood there with furrowed brows as if guarding the entrance to some holy place.
Janet had brought her sketching apparatus with her, but she sat without attempting to make use of it, overcome by the solemnity of the scene. When Lady Pollexfen spoke, the interruption was almost a relief.
"I daresay you have wondered, Miss Holme, what can be my motive for dragging you and myself about, with such apparent caprice, during the last fortnight. Not, indeed, that your wonder would be a matter of any moment either to me or to any one else," added her ladyship, ungraciously.
"And yet my madness, if you like to term it such, has not been without a method. The only idyl with which my life was ever beautified was enacted among the scenes which you and I have lately visited together. And at this spot, at this gloomy tarn of Ben Dulas, was enacted the crowning scene of all. On this very spot I first heard the sweet whisper of love, and from one whom I loved passionately in return, although my pride would not let me avow it. Yes, here, by the marge of this Avernian lake, he told me that he loved me, that I was the star of his life, and that if I would only wait for him and promise to be his, he would carve for himself a name and a fortune that I should not be ashamed to share. I was young and handsome then, rich and admired, and I smiled Graham coldly down, although my heart was burning towards him. He went his way and I went mine. He went out as an explorer to the wilds of Africa, and was never heard of more. For me, I married a man rich and well-born, but whom I hated; and I gradually became the--well, the wretched being you see me now."
Her ladyship ceased. What could Janet say--what answer could she make to so strange a confession? Probably none was required. In any case, Janet sat without speaking, gazing with melancholy eyes into the black depths of the tarn. Lady Pollexfen, too, was silent. Janet glanced at her face. All its lines were fixed and stern. Her eyes seemed bent on the tops of the opposite hills, but they saw nothing unless it were some vision of inner things--some bit of salvage rescued by memory from the wreck-strewn shores of the past.
They sat thus a long time without speaking, and were only disturbed at last by the approach of their guide with the ponies. In silence they rode back to the hotel.
All that evening Lady Pollexfen's thoughts seemed more abstracted than usual--farther away from the people and things immediately surrounding her. Still, she seemed cheerful and in good spirits, and, after partaking of a light supper, she retired about ten o'clock. Janet sat with her till midnight, reading aloud Beckford's "Vathek." At twelve she was dismissed, and at once went to her own room, which was immediately adjoining that of her ladyship, the door of communication between the two rooms being kept open all night, so that Janet might be within hearing in case she were called.
Janet went off at once into the sound healthy sleep of the young.
The first grey light of dawn was just penetrating through the blinds when she awoke. The instant she opened her eyes she jumped out of bed, under the vivid impression that Lady Pollexfen had called her. The well-known tones seemed ringing in her ears as she hurried out of her own room into that of her ladyship.
Without giving a single look round, she at once hurried to the bedside, and drew back the curtain with a gentle hand.
The light as yet was so faint and dim, that for a moment or two she did not realize the fact that the bed was without an occupant. She looked and looked, but no one was there.
Then she gazed round with startled eyes, half expecting to see Lady Pollexfen sitting in the easy-chair by the window. But she was not in the easy-chair by the window, nor in any of the other chairs, nor in the room at all, as Janet quickly ascertained.
It sent a shock to Janet's heart to see standing wide open the door which led into the corridor, and thence by a flight of stairs to the lower parts of the house.
Whither could her ladyship have gone? and what could be her motive for going at all? That she had been deceived in thinking she had been called, she now felt convinced. It was not the first time she had dreamt such a thing, although the impression had never been stamped so vividly on her brain before.
On instituting a more systematic search, she found that her ladyship must have completely dressed herself before leaving the room. Her bonnet had not been taken, but a grey waterproof cloak with a large hood was missing.
In five minutes from the time of her first awaking, Janet was equipped ready to start in search of Lady Pollexfen.
Had her ladyship been ten years younger, and in tolerable health, such a vagary could have concerned no one but herself. But she was so old and infirm, so subject to fits of prostration after any sudden excitement, that Janet could not but feel most seriously alarmed by her unaccountable absence. Hurrying downstairs, she found that there were no signs of anyone belonging to the household having yet arisen. But the front door was unfastened and ajar. She opened it and passed out. The morning was brightening rapidly. The tops of the hills stood out clear and sharp against the intense blue of the sky, but here and there the lower spurs were still wrapped in mist. Janet looked anxiously around, but nowhere was there a soul to be seen. What should she do? Whither should she look for Lady Pollexfen?
These questions were still in her mind when she heard a heavy footstep descending the stairs inside the house. It was the landlord, their guide of the previous day, who was rising thus early. Janet was on the point of appealing to him, but he spoke first.
"Your mistress must be a queer old lady," he said, with a strong Welsh accent, "to be up this hour of the morning, and rambling over the hills all by herself. I saw her a while ago from my bedroom window trotting along as comfortable as possible, and as if she had known the way from a child."
"In which direction was she going?" asked Janet, eagerly.
"Why, the road that we went yesterday; the road that leads to Ben Dulas tarn."
"Her ladyship is too weak and ill to come back on foot, and alone," said Janet. "I will hasten after her, and do you get out the ponies and follow as quickly as possible. I will engage that you shall be well remunerated for your trouble."
"In that case, miss, I'm at your service. I wont be five minutes behind you. A strange old lady, to be sure!"
Janet hurried off without another word, taking the narrow defile that led to the tarn. She ran with winged feet, and eyes that never swerved from their forward gaze. There was a vague sense of the beauty of the morning upon her, but her brain took in no distinct impressions of the time or the place.
At length she surmounted the last rise in the rocky road, and there before her lay the gloomy valley, peopled with dim shadows and fleecy fragments of mist. There, too, lay the steel-black waters of the lonely tarn.
Janet's eyes roving eagerly about rested before long on a dark huddled-up figure close to the margin of the lake. Anyone less sharp-sighted might have taken it for one of the grey boulder stones of which several were scattered about. But Janet was not deceived. She ran forward with a little cry, and stooping over the recumbent figure, tried to raise it in her arms. But she quickly found that this was beyond her strength. Lady Pollexfen could give her no assistance. She had been stricken with paralysis, and the use of her left side was entirely gone. Janet, however, contrived to raise her ladyship's head and shoulders so that they rested against her knee, and thus she awaited the arrival of the old guide.
"Is that you, child?" said Lady Pollexfen in a voice strangely broken and altered, as Janet tried to lift her up. "If it had not been for you I think I should have been dead long ago; but now I know that my time is drawing near."
She spoke again with her head resting on Janet's knee. "Was it a token that came to me just as day was beginning to break? Or what was it? I cannot tell. I only know that when I woke up it was with Graham's voice sounding in my ears--I told you about Graham yesterday--as plainly as ever I heard the voice of anyone. I rose and dressed, and still the voice called me, seeming as if it came from a long distance and yet sounding quite close at hand, if you can understand such a thing. These were the words it said: 'Come! come! I am in trouble. You alone can give me ease. Come! and bring with you the Great Mogul Diamond.' These words were repeated over and over again, and each time my heart answered back: 'I am coming, dear love, I am coming.' Guided by the sound of the voice, I followed it down the staircase and out of the house, and along the rocky defile until I reached the edge of the tarn. All the way the voice kept close before me, and I followed it without question or doubt. Only to hear those never-forgotten tones was to make me feel young and strong and a girl at heart again. When I reached the edge of the lake, my heart said, although I question whether the words framed themselves aloud on my lips--'How are you in trouble, Graham? And in what way can I help you?' 'I am a prisoner in the hands of the demon of this lake,' said the voice. 'He will keep me for a thousand years unless I shall be ransomed by one who loves me.' 'I love you, Graham. Tell me how I can ransom you,' I said. Then came the voice. 'Fling into the middle of the lake the rarest thing you have, and I shall be held captive no longer.' Then I knew why I had been told to bring the Great Mogul Diamond with me. 'Because of the love I have for you, your bidding shall be done,' I said. With that I kissed the Diamond once for the sake of my dead son, and then I flung it with all my strength into the middle of the tarn. The moment the stone touched the water there fell upon my ear a strain of music so exquisitely sweet and joyful that I felt at once that Graham had been set free. And then I remember nothing more till I felt your arms round me trying to lift me up."
All this was spoken brokenly and with evident pain.
Janet was much shocked. "Are you sure, dear Lady Pollexfen, that you really threw the Diamond into the water?" she asked.
"As sure as ever I was of anything in my life," she answered. "Yes, the Diamond is gone, but I do not regret it. Had Graham said, 'Sacrifice your life to set me free,' I should have done it."
At this moment the guide came up with the two ponies. Janet explained to him as much as it was requisite that he should know. Then, between them, and with the aid of one of the ponies, they contrived to carry her ladyship slowly back to the inn. The local doctor was immediately sent for, and Janet despatched a telegram to Chester for the best medical aid that city could afford. Another telegram summoned Major Strickland and Mr. Madgin. The local doctor looked upon Lady Pollexfen's case as a hopeless one from the first, and the greater authority when he came merely confirmed that opinion, although they both agreed in thinking she might possibly linger on for several months to come.
But Lady Pollexfen was saved from that. Her life gradually sank out and died, as a lamp dies, for lack of fuel. She was unconscious before the major and Mr. Madgin could reach Ben Dulas, and a few hours later she breathed her last.
Her last conscious words were addressed to Janet. "Child," she said, speaking in a thick troubled whisper, "I have been unjust to you, and now I regret it. I was too proud to let my love for you be seen, but you have been to me as the apple of my eye. You are my granddaughter, and Dupley Walls will be yours when I am gone. I have been unjust to you--I say it again. Kiss me once, Janet, and tell me that you forgive me. Perhaps we shall meet again where no clouds intervene. Then you will know how truly I have loved you."
Mr. Madgin was more like a madman than any reasonable being when Janet told him what had become of the Diamond. His first idea was to have it dived for in the same way that pearl oysters are obtained. But suppose the diver found it and hid it under his tongue, and came to the surface empty-handed? Then Mr. Madgin decided that he would employ a diving-bell, in which he and some man conversant with that peculiar business would go down together, and together they would search the bottom of the lake. But farther inquiry elicited the fact that the tarn was far too deep to allow of either of Mr. Madgin's plans being put in operation. The country people averred that it had no bottom, or that if it had a bottom it was at such an extreme depth, that no soundings ever taken would succeed in reaching it. This Mr. Madgin declared to be all humbug, and at once proceeded to test the depth of the tarn with such rude appliances as he could command in that out-of-the-way spot. But with all Mr. Madgin's efforts he could not succeed in finding the bottom, and in so far the opinion of the country people proved to be correct. But Mr. Madgin was a man not easily defeated. He went up to London, only to reappear at Ben Dulas three days later with a couple of men and an apparatus nearly similar to that used for taking deep-sea soundings. With this apparatus the bottom of the tarn was at last found, but at a very great depth. After careful soundings over nearly the whole surface, and repeated careful examinations of the greased leaden cup, sent down for the purpose of obtaining specimens of the bottom, the chief of the two men in charge of the apparatus gave it as his opinion that the entire under-water area was thickly covered with large boulders, similar to those which lined the margin of the tarn, and that consequently any small object which might sink to the bottom would almost be sure to find its way between the interstices of the stones, and would so be lost beyond any possible recovery from above. Reluctantly, and with a sad heart, Mr. Madgin at length gave orders to discontinue an attempt which had become so evidently hopeless. There, in the unsunned depths of the tarn of Ben Dulas, the Great Mogul Diamond still lies, and will doubtless continue to lie through ages yet unborn, till Time, working through one of his mighty cycles, shall again bring it to light, to shine, perchance, on the breast of some king, the foundations of whose empire are not yet laid, and for whom not even tradition shall have preserved the name of Aurengzebe the Great.
If it was a great surprise to Major Strickland, and such it undoubtedly was, to be told the story of the Mogul Diamond, so far as it was known to Mr. Madgin, it was an equal surprise to the latter to find that Miss Holme was Lady Pollexfen's granddaughter, and the future mistress of Dupley Walls. He had never taken much notice of the quiet, pale young lady whom, since the illness and death of Sister Agnes, he had seen in attendance on Lady Pollexfen. He had a vague recollection of having been told by someone that Miss Holme was a very distant connexion of the family, but as it was a matter that seemed to have no bearing on his interests, he had never troubled himself further about it. But, behold, by one of those kaleidoscopic changes which occur oftener in real life than most people imagine, this mild-eyed young lady had stepped into the position of his mistress, a mistress in whose power it lay to deprive him at one stroke of two-thirds of his income--by severing the connexion which had existed for so many years between himself and Dupley Walls. Mr. Madgin was excessively chagrined to think that he had not had sufficient foresight to discern the aureole of coming greatness on the brow of Miss Holme. Like a wise man, he at once determined that nothing should be lacking on his part to make himself an indispensable item of the new _régime_.
Lady Pollexfen's body was conveyed to Dupley Walls, and there buried--in accordance with her own written request--in the little church at the east end of the park. After the funeral her will was read aloud in the presence of all whom it concerned by Mr. Boulton, the family lawyer. Major Strickland was named as one executor, a certain Dr. Schofield, of London, was the other. With the exception of a few trifling legacies, "My granddaughter, Janet Fairfax, commonly known as Janet Holme," was made sole legatee. In addition to the mansion and estate of Dupley Walls, with sundry farms appertaining thereto, and a considerable quantity of house property in the parish of Tydsbury, the income of which in the aggregate amounted to about two thousand pounds a year; in addition to all this, Janet came in for Lady Pollexfen's accumulated savings during the last twenty years of her life. These savings, which were invested in scrip and shares of various kinds, amounted to the very comfortable sum of eighteen thousand pounds. Janet was placed under the sole guardianship of Major Strickland till she should reach the age of twenty-one. Meanwhile a liberal annual income was set aside for her use.
Dupley Walls being far too large for Janet's modest requirements, was shut up and left in charge of a couple of trusted servants, with Mr. Madgin to look after the whole. A pretty cottage _ornée_ on the banks of the Thames, a few miles from London, was taken, and thither Janet went to live with Major Strickland and Aunt Felicité--a quaint, tender-hearted old lady, whom Janet had long ago learned to love dearly. Captain George Strickland was in lodgings in Bloomsbury, that he might be near the Museum. His "Narrative of Personal Adventure in India" was finished, and on the eve of publication. He was now engaged on a "Treatise on Fortification," and he spent a considerable part of his time in the Museum reading-room. He dined at the cottage once a week; but otherwise its inmates saw little or nothing of him. Janet appreciated his delicacy, knowing well that it was on her account that he was not a more frequent visitor. She said nothing, but bided her time. No word of love had been spoken between Captain George and Janet when the latter was known to the world as a poor dependent of Lady Pollexfen, although both had felt intuitively how dear they were each to the other, and George had only waited for a favourable opportunity to press his suit. But now that Janet had become a person of wealth and consideration, George's pride fought with his love, and chained it down, and commanded it to be dumb for ever.
In his intercourse with Janet since she had come to live at the cottage, he was the Captain George of old times--but with a difference. His manner toward her was more guarded and ceremonious than of old; there was perhaps a shade more of deference, and just a touch of that quiet coldness which men who are at once proud and shy often put on when they are in the company of those whom they deem their superiors in station. Janet smiled to herself and bided her time.
That time came about four months after Lady Pollexfen's death. On coming to the cottage one evening, Captain Strickland brought with him the news of his approaching departure from England. In the interests of the book on which he was engaged he was going to visit personally all the great fortifications of Europe. The time was mid-winter, and both his uncle and Janet endeavoured to persuade him to put off his contemplated journey till spring; but George was good-naturedly obdurate and would not give way to their wishes. The major's sister was not at home that evening, and later on the major himself was called downstairs on business. Janet and Captain George were left to their own devices. He was seated at the table absently turning over a book of photographs which he had seen a hundred times already; she was seated on an easy-chair near the fire, toying in an idle mood with a curious Chinese fan. Neither of them spoke for full five minutes after the major had left the room. Janet was the first to break a silence that was becoming oppressive.
"Then you have really decided to start next week?" she said, looking shyly at Captain Strickland over the top of her fan.
"Yes--really decided," replied George. "I can get no further with my book till I have personally visited the places I wish to describe. Why rest here in idleness, waiting for pleasant weather? My uncle himself would be the first to scorn doing such a thing were the case his own."
Another pause and then another question in a voice hardly above a whisper. "Do you travel alone?"
"Alone? Yes. Where should I find anyone who would care to be my companion on such an erratic tour?"
Another pause. Then shyly but distinctly: "You might ask me to accompany you."
Captain Strickland gave a great start, and a sudden light leapt to his eyes as he turned them on Janet. Her blushing cheeks were hidden by her fan, but over the top of it his eyes met hers, and in them he read something that love interpreted for him aright. In another moment he was on his knees by her side and smothering her hand with kisses.
As Janet afterwards explained to the Major: "You see, George would not propose to me. My money frightened him; so I was obliged to exercise the privilege which Leap Year gives our sex, and propose to him; and when once the ice was broken, I found him not at all shy."
The marriage did not take place till after the expiration of Janet's year of mourning. Then they went abroad, and did not return to England till Janet was turned one-and-twenty. Since that time Dupley Walls has been their home. The Major lives with them, and enjoys a green and hearty old age.
Janet has long known that it was her singular likeness to a younger sister of Lady Pollexfen, to whom the Major, when a young man, was engaged to be married, that made so deep an impression on the old soldier when he saw her first, and that first endeared her to his heart.
Janet's relatives on her father's side were not slow in making advances to her when they discovered that she was Lady Pollexfen's heiress. Janet responded graciously enough, but she was not long in discovering that the new circle of connexions into which she had been introduced, was one in which she should never feel thoroughly at home. It was too worldly and too fast in every way to please Janet's simple tastes. Her new relations would gladly have taken her in hand with the view of educating her up to their standard, and would have found her some horseracing, gambling scion of the house for a husband. But any such pleasant family arrangement was rendered null and void by the simple fact of Janet choosing a husband for herself in the person of penniless Captain Strickland. Still they could not afford to give Janet up entirely. They find Dupley Walls a convenient visiting house during the dull season, and bashfulness being a quality unknown to any of the tribe, they do not fail, when there, to make themselves thoroughly at home. Janet bears the infliction with much sweetness. She says that you cannot have aristocratic connexions without paying for the privilege in one shape or another.
It is scarcely necessary to state that Mr. Madgin's position at Dupley Walls was in no wise affected by the death of Lady Pollexfen. Janet is too fond of the old man to curtail even one of his privileges or emoluments; nor does she forget his great services in connexion with the recovery of the Diamond. Neither Mr. Madgin nor Captain Strickland has ever ventured to tell Janet that the man who stole the Diamond from M. Platzoff, and from whom it was afterwards recovered by means of a clever ruse, was none other than her own father. That is a passage of family history of which she still remains happily ignorant.
Madgin Junior is rising in his profession. He has a lucrative engagement at one of the West-end theatres. His rendering of the character of Doxy in the grand sensation drama of _From Belgravia to Newgate_ was highly spoken of by the press, and vociferously applauded by the pit. Madgin Junior being of a sanguine temperament, sees no reason why he should not in the course of time develope into a "star" of the first magnitude.
Mirpah the superb still remains unmarried, and will in all probability so remain till the end of the chapter. Several individuals have expressed a desire to take her for better or worse; but in each case Mirpah seemed to see the "worse" so clearly, and the "better" so indistinctly, that she declined the offers one and all. It is probable that no one so nearly touched her heart as Captain Ducie.
"Only think," she will sometimes say to her father, "had I been so minded, I might now have been stepmother to the present mistress of Dupley Walls!"
She still keeps her father's books and accounts, and as years creep over Mr. Madgin, so do Mirpah's labours increase. In those labours and in the hoarding of money, Mirpah Madgin, to all appearance, finds the great happiness of her life.
Lady Pollexfen did not forget Sergeant Nicholas in her will. A comfortable annuity was settled on the old man. He resides in Tydsbury, and not unfrequently of an evening he goes to smoke a pipe with Mr. Madgin. At these meetings we may be certain that over and over again, in all its details, one or the other of them often tells the strange story of the Great Mogul Diamond.