A Search For A Secret: A Novel. Vol. 2 Page 5

  CHAPTER V.

  OVERTURES FROM THE ENEMY.

  I have as yet said nothing about my own feelings during these threemonths, nor told how I bore the loss. At first I felt it very, verymuch. I made sure the will was gone for ever; and although I hadconcerted with Harry our plan to find the secret chamber, and pretendedto believe in it, I did so with the same feeling with which, as a child,one pretends a chair is a ship, and makes voyages upon it; shouting aslustily as if on board a real vessel, apparently quite as anxious if animaginary wind arises and threatens to wreck our bark, and making ourescape on to the sofa, which represents a desert island, with as muchjoy as if our rescue had been all real.

  We elders smile at these pretences, and wonder at the lively interest,the loud joy, and the terrible panics with which children enter intothese imaginary games of theirs; but I am sure we often play at shipstoo. We make believe that our barks are going safe to port, and singpoeans of joy, while in our heart of hearts we know it is quiteotherwise, and that a disastrous shipwreck is inevitable; we ignore thethreatening black cloud on the horizon, and congratulate ourselves thatthe sun is shining so brightly. Some of us, indeed, do this throughlong, long years--play it till the curtain falls, and all play is over.

  I do not think that men thus wilfully shut their eyes as we women do:they have not the same happy faculty for self-deceit. But do we not allknow many women who are for ever playing this game of ships? Do they notcling confidently all their lives to the idea that the bark to whichthey have entrusted themselves and their fortunes is indeed a gallantvessel, built of true heart of oak, marked A 1, fit to contend againstany tempest and storm whatever, and certain to make a delightful andprosperous voyage to the end--cling to it even when the rotten timbersshow through as soon as the fresh paint wears off, even when the waterpours in through the leaky sides, and she tosses about without helm orrudder, a mere sport to every breeze? Happy are the women who are adeptsat playing at this game--happy those who can go through life persistingin it; driving back with angry self-reproach any thought which mayintrude itself that their dolls are not princesses--that the idol whichthey worship is not a god after all, but a mere image, made of verycommon clay indeed.

  So I played at ships with myself, and made believe that we were certainto find the secret chamber. After a time, indeed, I did come to believein it--that is, after we had put the plan together, and found outwhereabouts it lay,--but even then an incredulous doubt wouldoccasionally occur, which, however, I never allowed to stop there long.All this wore me very much--this constant anxiety, this endeavour to becheerful, this trying to believe that all would be right yet.

  When the news of Mr. Harmer's death came to us at Ramsgate, I hadwritten to Lady Desborough, and had received in reply from her a letterof condolence, which indeed, from the tone it was written in, resembledrather one of congratulation. It was evident that Lady Desboroughconsidered that L25,000 at once was a very much more comfortable thingthan L10,000 on my marriage, and the remaining L15,000 at someuncertain, and perhaps distant, period. Ada and Percy both wrote, reallysympathizing with me in the loss of so very dear and kind a friend.

  When, however, I had to write, ten days after, and say that the will wasmissing, I confess that I did so almost with the feelings of a mansigning his own death-warrant. I wrote to Ada this time, and related thewhole history to her. I told her--what I tried to believe myself--thatwe might find it yet; indeed, that we did not by any means give up allhope. I said that we felt quite sure that it was concealed in a secretchamber, and that until we found that chamber we should never give upthe search. In truth, I was a coward--I dreaded what might happen if Isaid that all hope was gone, and that I had no idea of ever finding it;for that I knew would bring on a crisis from which, although I felt sureit must some day come, I shrank with a terrible fear. I believe now thatif I had allowed to myself that it was hopeless, I should, whatever cameof it, have written and said so; but I was playing at ships, and Ireally persuaded myself that I believed as I wrote.

  Ada's answer came in a day or two; it was, as I knew it would be,everything which was kind and affectionate. She "was sorry, so, so sorryfor us all," and she was indignant and furious against "those dreadfulold hags," as she irreverently termed the Misses Harmer, "and she shouldonly like--" and Ada's wishes and intentions towards them were terrible.Nothing indeed could be kinder or more satisfactory than the first partof Ada's letter; but when she came to write about her mamma, her penevidently went slower, and her words were cautiously chosen. Mamma, shesaid, was very sorry indeed to hear of the will being missing, andindeed was made quite ill by the news. She begged her to say how muchshe condoled with me upon it, and what a dreadful affair it was. "Inshort," Ada finally scribbled, evidently puzzled how to put it--"inshort, you know exactly what mamma would say under the circumstances."

  Ada and I continued to correspond regularly, and I kept her posted up inthe proceedings of our plot to discover the chamber. In answer to thejoyous letter I wrote to Ada after Christmas--saying that we haddiscovered one of the secret openings which opened the door, and had nowevery hope of finding the other--Lady Desborough herself wrote, for thefirst time since the will had been lost. She said how glad she was that,after all, it seemed by what Ada said, we were likely to find themissing will, and regain our fortunes. She stated that she had alwaysexpressed herself as certain that the infamous conspiracy against uswould be defeated, and she wound up by saying that she sincerely trustedthat the document would be discovered before long, both for my sake andPercy's, who, she believed, would sail for India in the followingautumn.

  As I read this letter, it appeared to me that the pith of the wholecontents was contained in that last line. To me it said as plainly as ifshe had so written it--"He goes to India in the autumn, but, of course,unless you find the will before that, he will have to go without you." Iwas neither hurt nor surprised at this. I knew Lady Desborough wellenough to be perfectly assured that with her consent I should nevermarry Percy unless I regained the lost fortune.

  Percy's letters to me were always alike; he told me that he did not carewhether I had the fortune or not. That for my own sake he should ofcourse have preferred that I should have had money, in order that in ourIndian home we might be surrounded by more comforts and luxuries, butthat for no other reason did he in the least care. That, of course, hispay as a cornet was next to nothing, but he expected that before manymonths he should get a step. He calculated that his lieutenant's pay inIndia, with the staff appointment--which he made sure, from hisproficiency in the native languages, he should speedily obtain--togetherwith the L300 a year his mother allowed him, would enable us to live intolerable comfort.

  He spoke always of the L300 a year as if it were a certainty, but I wassure that in case of his marrying me his mother would at once stop it.

  Lady Desborough, although she lived in so fashionable a style, was by nomeans a very rich woman. Her income, with the trifling exception of herpension as a General's widow, was derived entirely from property shepossessed previous to her marriage, and which had been settled upon herat that time. Of this she had the entire income during her lifetime, andcould leave it as she chose between her children.

  Percy's letters to me were very loving and tender, and he was nevertired of drawing happy pictures of our future. My answers to him, sincethe loss of the will, were not less loving, perhaps, than before; butthey were far less confident and hopeful, and I could not trust myselfto speak much of a future which I so feared in my heart could never comefor me.

  Altogether, I was very nervous and anxious all this time, and I lookedforward to Sarah's communications with feverish eagerness. I felt thatto me far more depended on the discovery of this will than the merematter of money. It was not the question of wealth or the reverse, itwas--a life of happiness with Percy, or one of solitary unhappiness. Hadit not been for the search Sarah was making, which kept hope alive, Ishould have felt it even more than I did. But when the secret spring wasfound, I did begin to t
hink that all would come right again.

  On New Year's Day we had a great surprise--a letter came to papa fromMiss Harmer; a messenger brought it, and it was sent in just as we hadfinished dinner. Papa opened it, glanced it through, and gave a longwhistle of astonishment. "The man who brought this is not waiting, Isuppose?" he asked the servant.

  "No, sir, he said that he was told there was no answer."

  "You can clear away the dinner things at once, and put the dessert on."

  We were all quiet while this was being done, wondering what it could beabout--and papa was evidently waiting only till the servant left theroom to read the letter to us. When she had finished, and had gone out,without any preface he opened the letter and read it aloud:--

  "Dear Dr. Ashleigh,

  "The will of our late brother Herbert not having been found, and it therefore being now extremely improbable that it ever will be so, my sister and myself have naturally, as his only relatives, come into possession of his property. At our death that property will go, as originally intended by our elder brothers, to the destination from which it was only diverted by one of those extraordinary combinations of events by which Providence sometimes upsets our best-laid plans. My brother Herbert had, however, some property of his own, which he acquired in India, in addition to that which he inherited from his brothers. The amount of this property was, our man of business informs us, about L30,000. This sum we propose to devote to carrying out a portion of his expressed wishes. We are willing therefore to pay over at once the sum of L10,000 to each of your children--on the one condition that not one single penny shall they ever directly or indirectly bestow to or for the benefit of the person formerly known as Sophy Needham, and now as Sophy Gregory, she having by her conduct caused our brother's death. And that they all bind themselves to this condition under an oath solemnly taken on the Bible, and under penalty of forfeiture of the amount should this condition not be strictly observed.

  "Awaiting your reply, "&c., &c., "CECILIA AND ANGELA HARMER."

  What an astonishment that was to us, and in what silent amazement welooked at each other when papa had finished reading the letter.

  No one spoke for some time.

  At last papa said, "This is a very serious question, my dears; and theoffer ought to be thoroughly discussed before being either accepted orrefused. L10,000 each is a handsome provision for you. It will startHarry in a good business, and it will enable you girls to marry well andyet to feel that you bring your share to the expenses of the household."And here papa glanced at me, and I saw at once that although he hadnever spoken to me on the subject, he had yet thought a good deal aboutmy engagement with Percy. He then went on: "All this is the bright sideof the picture--now for the reverse;--you are unquestionably entitled toa much larger amount, and those who make this offer are the very peoplewho are keeping you out of it. Then, too, the condition about Sophy ismost repugnant; as you would naturally have wished in the event of youraccepting this sum, to make her at any rate an equal participator in itwith each of yourselves. The matter is one which must be thought oververy seriously, and no conclusion should be hastily arrived at. Talk itover quietly together: it is a question on which I would rather give noopinion whatever, but leave you to decide it entirely by yourselves."

  "There is one thing, papa, you have not mentioned," Polly said, "andthat is, that if we take this money we must give up all search for thewill; we cannot accept the Misses Harmer's money, and then get theirservants to work against them."

  "Certainly, my dear; that must of course be quite understood. If youaccept this money, you must give up all further search for the will, anddismiss all idea of ever hearing of it again. There, don't say any moreabout it now. Let us have a glass of wine and some nuts, and after thatI shall go into my study, and you can talk it over among yourselves."

  When papa left us, we drew round the fire, and Harry said the firstthing to be done was to smoke the calumet of council; accordingly in aminute or two he was puffing clouds of smoke from an immense meerschaum,of which he was very proud.

  "Now," he said, "the council is begun; let my sisters speak."

  Neither of us took advantage of the invitation, but sat looking steadilyinto the fire.

  Polly--who was now sixteen, and who had grown up a very dear, loveablegirl--was seated between us, in a high-backed, old-fashioned chair, withher feet on a low stool. I have not hitherto described her, and I couldnot choose a moment to do so in which she would look prettier than shedid as she sat there; with the light on the table behind her shining onthe gold of her hair, and her face lit only by the dancing light of thefire. She was a blonde, her hair looked almost brown in shadow; but whenthe light fell on it, it had still the bright golden tinge that everyone had admired when she was a child. Her eyes were a pure blue, hercomplexion was bright and clear, she had a particularly lithe lissomfigure, and her small head was very gracefully set on her neck andshoulders. She was very lively and full of fun; indeed I sometimes hadto call her to order. She was a little positive and wilful sometimes,but she was a very loving and loveable girl. She was at present hardlyas tall as I was, but as she had another year to grow, it was veryprobable she would be the taller in time. She had very long eyelashes,nearly the longest I ever saw, and these added greatly to the effect ofher great blue eyes. The mouth and nose might both have been better, butfor all that she had grown into a very pretty girl.

  "Well, girls, what do you think about this offer of ours?" Harryrepeated, finding that neither of us answered him.

  My own mind was pretty well made up on the subject, but I wished to hearwhat the others thought, so I said, "What do you think yourself aboutit, Harry?"

  Harry did not seem more inclined to give an opinion than we had been,for he sat and puffed out such huge volumes of smoke, that Pollythreatened to take his pipe away if he did not smoke more quietly. Atlast he took it from between his lips, and began: "The fact is, girls, Iam loath to give my opinion, not because I have not one, but because Ido not wish to influence you. Your cases are so very different frommine, that there is no comparison at all between us. I am now justtwenty-one; I am in a position to keep myself, and consequently theadvantage this sum of money would be to me, is not sufficient tocounterbalance the repugnance I feel--as far as I am concerned--totaking the money from these women who have robbed us. Still understand,I am not so much against it as to decide to refuse it, should you bothagree to accept it. This is rather a suggestion of mine, as it were,than a positive and final opinion. I mean to say that for my own sake Icertainly would not accept of the offer, but you are so differentlyplaced that if you give your vote for accepting it, I shall be quiteready to agree with you."

  Harry made this unusually long speech, for him, with some difficulty. Icould see that personally he was very strongly opposed to taking anyfavour from the Misses Harmer, after the way in which they had treatedus. Being quite of the same opinion myself, I thought the matter wassettled, as I made sure Polly would refuse. When Harry had done, he tookanother puff or two at his pipe, and then turning to Polly, who was nextto him, said,--

  "Now, Polly, you have heard what I have to say, let us have youropinion."

  For some time sister Polly did not answer, but sat gazing into the fire,with the long lashes nearly shading her eyes, and looking more womanlyand thoughtful than I had ever seen her before. At last, without moving,or lifting her eyes, she said,--

  "I think we had better accept."

  Harry, evidently surprised, gave one or two short puffs at his pipe. Iwas myself astonished. I had made sure that Polly would of all the threebe the most indignant and determined to reject the offer; for she hadbeen most bitter in her invectives at the Misses Harmer, and money hadat present no particular value in her eyes. However, I made no remarkexpressive of my surprise, but only said,--

  "Let us have your reasons, Polly."

  "Yes," Harry repeated, "l
et us have your reasons."

  Polly was again silent a little, and sat thoughtfully twining her longtaper fingers one over the other; then without looking up she asked,--

  "Is it understood and agreed between us that two votes carry the day?"

  "Certainly," I said, knowing that my vote would be on Harry's side.

  "Quite so," Harry agreed, "if you two girls make up your minds that itis best to accept this offer, I, as I said before, shall offer noobjection."

  "Well then, Harry, I say--accept, and I will tell you why;" and now,although Polly had not changed her attitude, she spoke clearly andfirmly, and her eyes were fixed on the fire with a steady resolute look."But you must both agree not to interrupt me till I have done."

  "I promise," Harry said, looking rather puzzled at Polly's very unusualdemeanour.

  "I promise," I repeated, amused and rather surprised, too.

  "Very well," Polly said, "please remember that. Now, Harry, you are agreat big strong fellow, but you know you are hardly fit to entrust anydelicate business to, and that in any affair of that sort you would knowno more than a child."

  "Well, Miss Polly," Harry said in astonishment, taking his pipe out ofhis mouth, "you are a pretty cool hand to talk to your elders; whatnext, I wonder!"

  "You promised not to interrupt, Harry. As I said, you are very good andkind, and all that, but you know you are not--not so to say sharp."

  I could hardly help laughing, Harry's eyes opened so very wide inamazement at the girl's remarks, and Polly herself was looking so veryserious and earnest.

  "Now we women----"

  "We women, indeed!" Harry repeated.

  "Yes, we women," Polly continued unmoved,--"I have left school now, andI am more of a woman as far as these things go than you are of a man--wewomen look very deeply into these matters. Now there is only one of usthree, who, as we stand at present, will be greatly affected by thisgift. I do not say that L10,000 is not a nice sum to have, or that itmight not some day assist me to get a husband, but at present I canmanage very well without one----"

  "I should think so," put in Harry.

  "And you can get on without it, and keep yourself comfortably. Thereforeto us the money has no peculiar charms at present, and we might both berather disposed to refuse it, than to accept it as a gift from peoplewho have robbed us of a large sum. There is a good deal in that, Harry,is there not?"

  Harry nodded; he had not yet sufficiently recovered from theastonishment into which the position of superiority taken up by Pollyhad thrown him, while I on my part could not fancy what was coming next.

  "Well you see, Harry, we have agreed that we neither of us are in aposition rightly to estimate the value of this L10,000 at present. NowAgnes, on the contrary, is in a position to appreciate it keenly."

  Here Harry again opened his eyes, and looked at me with suchastonishment, that I really thought he must fancy that I wanted themoney to pay off a gambling debt or something of that sort.

  "Agnes appreciate it!" he exclaimed.

  "Of course," Polly said; "and please do not interrupt me so, Harry. Nowthis L10,000 will, in all probability, be the turning-point in Agnes'slife, and her future happiness or unhappiness may depend upon it. Let ussee how she is situated. She is engaged to Percy Desborough----"

  "Thank goodness," Harry muttered to himself, "she has said something Ican understand at last."

  "She is engaged to him, and he is a capital fellow; but for all thatunless we find the will, or she has this L10,000, she knows, and I knowit by her face, that it may be years before she marries PercyDesborough, if she ever does so."

  "By George," Harry exclaimed, taking his pipe suddenly from his mouth,and jumping up from his chair,--"By George, if I thought for a momentthat Percy Desborough----"

  "There, you will interrupt me, Harry," Polly said, looking for the firsttime up from the fire with a little glance of amusement into his angryface. "Do sit down and hear me out, and you will see that there is novengeance to be taken upon any one."

  Harry looked more than half inclined to be very angry; however heresumed his seat, and took short sulky puffs at his pipe.

  "The fact is, Harry, you have heard of Lady Desborough, and from whatyou have heard you must know----"

  "My dear Polly," I interrupted in my turn, assured at last that she hadintuitively arrived at a correct conclusion about the state of myengagement with Percy,--"My dear Polly----"

  "My dear Agnes," she said, "you promised to hear me out. But, mydarling,"--and she spoke in a very soft tender voice, turning round tome, and laying her hand on mine,--"you know what I am going to say toHarry; if it is painful, will you go away till I have done? Harry musthear it before he can come to any correct conclusion about this money."

  I shook my head silently, but pressed her hand, which, while she wenton, still remained resting in mine.

  "Lady Desborough," and now she was looking steadily into the fire again,as if she read there all she was saying, "is a proud woman of the world,very ambitious, and very self-willed. Had Percy followed her wishes, andremained in the Guards, she would have expected him to have made afirst-rate match; as it is, she could not hope that any earl's daughterwould unite her fortunes to those of a cornet in a cavalry regiment, andtroop with him out to India. When Percy therefore succeeded inpersuading our Agnes here, that it was the best thing she could do, LadyDesborough was delighted at the match, which, with Agnes's L25,000, wasvastly better than she could have expected. But when Mr. Harmer dies,what happens? Agnes has no fortune. All this time that I have been atschool since Mr. Harmer died, and the will was missing, I have wonderedand thought over what Lady Desborough would do. I came to the conclusionthat she would wait for a bit, and would take no decided steps until itwas clear that the will would never be found, but that unquestionablywhen it was proved to be gone she would interfere to break off theengagement between Percy and Agnes. I come back here, and what do Ifind? I find very little said about the engagement, and Agnes lookingpale and depressed. Percy's letters come regularly; Agnes takes them upinto her room, and comes down again after a very long time, with flushedcheeks, and a soft look, and yet not perfectly happy--that is notbrightly happy. What does this mean? Just what I had anticipated. Percyis unchanged; the money, in his eyes, makes no difference whatever, butthere is an obstacle somewhere; that obstacle being of course LadyDesborough. Probably by the continuance of the correspondence, she hasnot yet given up hopes of the will being found, and has not thereforetaken any decided step, but has, I should imagine, plainly shown whather intentions will be if the fortune is not recovered. In support ofthis view, I see Agnes absorbed in the result of this search for thesecret room; I saw her delight when one of the hidden springs wasfound--and this not because Agnes loves money, but because she lovesPercy Desborough, and knows that without the fortune she cannot bemarried to him."

  "Why cannot Percy marry her in spite of his mother?" Harry growled in anunconvinced way. "He is not a boy; why can he not do as he likes?"

  "Because his present income and his future fortune depend upon her. Iheard Agnes say so the last time I was at home. She could refuse toallow him one penny, and leave every farthing she possesses to Ada. Youdon't suppose that a subaltern in a cavalry regiment can keep a wife onhis pay, even if Agnes would marry him under the circumstances, whichshe would not. Is all this true, Agnes darling?" she said, turning againto me, and this time I saw the tears were brimming up in her great blueeyes.

  "You are certainly a witch, Polly," I answered, trying to smile, but thetears were stealing down my cheeks too, as I got up and kissed herflushed face very tenderly and affectionately. To me all this was aperfect revelation. Here was my little sister Polly, whom I had alwayslooked upon as a mere child, thinking and talking like a woman, and avery sensible, loving woman, too. I felt that in that half hour'sconversation my child-sister was gone for ever, and that I had gained inher place a dear friend in whom I could trust and confide every secretof my heart. As for Harry, he was completely
silenced.

  "Well, oh most sapient brother," Polly asked, turning to him in her oldlaughing way, "do you confess that all this never entered into yourmind; indeed, that you knew no more about it than the man in the moon?"

  "By Jove!" Harry said with a great effort, "I confess you have fairlyastonished me, as much by yourself as by your story. I think that youare right, and that in these matters you are more of a woman than I amof a man. How you found this all out I cannot conceive; it certainlynever entered into my head. I thought of the effect which the moneywould have upon myself, and upon you, but Agnes I hardly took intoconsideration. I thought of her marriage with Percy as a sort of settledthing, and knowing him to have a handsome allowance, I never gave hercase a second thought. But I see you are quite right, and that we must,of course, accept this money."

  "Indeed, we will not," I said; "with my consent, this money shall neverbe accepted."

  "That is not fair, Agnes," Polly said. "You know we agreed that twovotes should carry the day."

  "I did, Polly; but I have a right to say what I think about it before itis put to the vote. I acknowledge all that Polly has said about myaffairs to be true. I allow that I do believe that my marriage withPercy depends upon this will being found. But for all that, I say wecannot take this money. These women have robbed us of L25,000 each; theyhave robbed Sophy of L75,000; robbed us as actually as if they hadstolen it from our possession--and now they offer, as a gift, L10,000each to us. If we take it, it is on an understanding that we renounceall further claim, that we receive it as a free gift from these enemiesof ours; and by this act not only should we, as it were, pledgeourselves to make no further efforts to find the will, we should notonly sell our birthright to our enemies, but we should be bound todesert Sophy, and so leave her in hopeless poverty, for without ourassistance she has not the slightest chance of ever finding the will.All this would be a miserable degradation--a degradation so deep thatnothing could satisfy our own consciences to it; even my marriage toPercy could not reconcile it to myself, and he himself would blame mefor it. No, no, dears, this would be a shameful action. Let us refuse itat once. You, I know, would do it for my sake; but I would not do it formyself, much less allow you to do so. We have really, at present, stronghopes of finding the will; let us trust to that; let us believe that inthe end we shall be righted. If not, God's will be done. The evil mayseem to prosper at present, but at any rate let us make no terms withit."

  Polly and Harry were both silent. Polly was crying fast now--crying,that her little scheme for my happiness had failed; but yet they bothfelt as I did, and she could urge nothing further.

  "There, dears, I know you both agree with me in your hearts, so let ussay no more about it."

  And so it was settled; and when papa came in soon after, I told him thatwe were unanimously of opinion that the money could not be accepted.Papa then said, that although he had not wished to bias us in ourdecision, yet that he quite agreed with us, and was very glad we had sodecided. So the next day he wrote to Miss Harmer, acknowledging thereceipt of her letter, and stating that, for various reasons into whichit was not necessary to enter, we felt ourselves obliged to decline theoffer. This affair had one consequence among us, and that was, thatPolly henceforth occupied a very different position amongst us from whatshe had heretofore done. Harry looked up to her as a prodigy ofintellect and acuteness; and I myself felt deeply not only herintelligence, but the thoughtful, loving kindness she had evincedtowards me. From that time Polly became quite one of ourselves; and,indeed, I think that insensibly she fell into her natural position asthe clever one of the family.