Force and Fraud (28 page)

“I am afraid you will not be able to do that in a hurry,” said Mr Manners.

“As she
deserves –
no. But at least in such a way that she will never feel privation,” replied Lindsey; a remark which caused Mr Manners to perceive that the artist was himself enduring privation. It was scarcely worth clearing up the mystery about Annie Lowe, although Mr Manners
did
ask a few questions respecting her, to which Herbert replied that he was the intimate friend of her lover, and acted towards
him
just as Pierce Silverton would act towards himself.

Oh Herbert, Herbert! That ideal world of yours has sadly destroyed your perception of the actual one!

Sadly? No, the
sadness
will come when you can see clearly; when you taste of the
bitter fruit
that grows on the tree of knowledge!

“Well,” said Mr Manners, as he rose to take his leave, “since Miss McAlpin has, with a delicacy I honour, refused to marry in haste, and as I am a sort of guardian of hers, I shall probably be in the neighbourhood about the time specified. It is not far distant, I think.”

“No; thank goodness.”

Mr Manners went away, doubting very much whether Mr Silverton would
thank goodness;
for he did not think his friendship for Flora quite as platonic as that of Herbert for Annie Lowe.

But we must now return to Mr Silverton, whom we left somewhat abruptly. We could not very well do otherwise, as the interview between Mr Manners and Herbert Lindsey was taking place about the same time that Flora was expressing her anxiety respecting her letters, and (it being impossible to explain the two circumstance together), we have turned to the
denouement
of the more truthful, as being the clearest and best.

Had Pierce Silverton done so, what misery to himself and others would have been spared! But he was growing desperate, and several things had lately occurred that might… He cannot grasp what they might do, for he does not know how he may be implicated in two or three ugly transactions – quite unjustly perhaps. For instance, there is that affair of the horse-stealing, of which he was as innocent as a child unborn – a circumstance that would be evident to the most careless observer. How could
he
wrench the door from off its hinges? For it had been discovered that the lock was all right, the door having been opened by some other process. But if Mr Silverton's conscience is clear about the theft of the horses, he might, nevertheless, have to answer some disagreeable questions respecting an acquaintance who is not troubled with a conscience at all. He almost envies him on that account – for it is conscience that is undermining the health of Pierce Silverton; conscience, as much as his restless love. And yet there is nothing that can extricate him but a
coup d'etat.

Flora must be his
– at any price; and, after all, it surely will not be so very difficult to obtain her. Has he not the letter of her guardian, stating that Herbert is already married? With regard to other letters yet to be written – well, they won't be received; so Messrs' Manners and Lindsey may write away to their hearts' content.

But they may come!

Aye – there's the rub!

And
he
may come again: that troublesome man without a conscience; that man whom no money will satisfy; he who has already received such large sums to leave his benefactor in peace.
He may come,
though he swore to stay away. But he does not regard an oath. He regards nothing, either human or divine; nothing but his own worthless life and the gratification of his brutal passions –
that man,
who would do anything if prompted by ungovernable rage. Ah, the people who would
keep these men away
!

A horrible thought suggests itself to Pierce Silverton, but he resists the temptation. Oh, if he could have resisted others! Surely nature never intended him for a villain; he is too gentle and tender-hearted! Did he not absolutely faint from excess of emotion when Herbert Lindsey so narrowly escaped death for the crime of another? But why had nature stopped short in her handiwork; why – in framing Pierce Silverton so tender-hearted, so loving – did she not make him truthful, candid, and
honourable
? It is a bad thing to say that
honour,
of which men are so proud, should be wanting in Pierce Silverton. But perhaps not so strange after all, for it is not so very general, even in that extremely respectable portion of society to which Pierce Silverton belongs.

He roused himself at length from these painful reflections. It was time. For he knew that he must now
act,
and quickly – Herbert Lindsey having written to Flora, stating the day when he will come never to leave her again! There are so many tender allusions to the last meeting in the letter, that Pierce Silverton tears it into atoms.

It is true that the writer did not intend these loving expressions for any eyes but
hers.
Well, never mind! There will only be another sin of omission laid on the broad shoulders of the public send, if a few letters do go astray! And so, after calming down an excess of agitation – quite violent enough to destroy a stronger frame than that of Pierce Silverton – he canters away in a gallant fashion to see
his
Flora – for
his
she shall be, come who may into the lists!

“Here comes Mr Silverton! How well he looks!” exclaimed Bessie Garlick to Flora as they were sitting together on the verandah.

“I think he has been looking better of late; but he seems agitated, Oh, I hope he has no bad news.”

As Flora spoke, Pierce Silverton entered the room, and Flora asked, “Is there any letter today?”

“No, not today but–”

“There is some news – ah tell me!”

“I cannot – I ought to have told you long ago, but had not courage.”

“Now tell me at once, directly.”

“Forgive my delay – it was caused by reluctance to give you pain; you know the interest I take in your welfare.”

Flora sat tapping her foot on the floor, as impatient people often do when they do not want to hear long speeches. Bessie Garlick at length retired, half reluctant to leave these two together, but conscious that she ought not to remain. Mr Silverton then continued, “Here is a letter I received some time since from Mr Manners. You know his writing, do you not, Flora?”

“Very well, yes that is his hand; give me the letter.”

Pierce obeyed silently, and Flora read. She coloured deeply, but from what emotion he could not guess, but she looked at him as if to interpret his thoughts, and after a long pause said, “It is false! Herbert would marry no one but me.”

“So I should have thought, had the letter been from anyone but Mr Manners, and had not that advertisement appeared.” So saying, he handed her a newspaper, where, under the head of marriages, she read that of Herbert Lindsey, with Annie Lowe, and then sat down, speechless, breathless.

For a long time Pierce did not venture to break the silence; but at last it became painful, and, taking her hand, he said, “Miss McAlpin, Flora, tell me what I can do for you?”

“Wait, wait,” she said, in a hoarse whisper. “Wait till I ascertain the whole truth, till I see Mr Manners, till–”

“Would you like to consult him? Shall I write to him to come here?”

“No, I will consult no one. But if this should be true, and… Pierce Silverton, on your honour –
on your soul
– tell me, was that letter written by Mr Manners?”

“So you admitted yourself. But, Miss McAlpin, allow me to remark that I do not understand your insinuation.” And Mr Silverton walked away with an air of offended dignity.

Flora looked coldly at him, and there was another pause, after which she said, “Speak, tell me all you know.”

“I
have
told you, Miss McAlpin; I have given you the letter of your guardian, and must leave him to explain
why
it was written.”

“
He saw the marriage; or saw them afterwards – or what does he say?”

She once more referred to the statement of Mr Manners, and then added, “After all I have done for him! After my confidence in his truth! But I scorn him! I
hate
him!”

Pride now took the place of love in the heart of Flora; and sympathy, that of indignation, in the eyes of Silverton. Still he stood aloof, but he must not give her time to relapse into tenderness.

What should he do? If he suggested the unworthiness of Herbert, that wilful girl might even now take his part; so at length he said, mournfully, “Oh, if he could witness your wretchedness, how he would repent his error!”

“I am
not
wretched, and he
shall
repent!” And the spirit of her father flashed from her eyes as she added, “Thank heaven, I can revenge this injury!”

Very beautiful was Flora in these moments of excitement, and Pierce had great difficulty in restraining himself from falling on his knees, as he had done once before. If he had, he would have lost everything; and even now the battle between the strong passions was not decided. But that word
revenge
pointed out a way – dark and tumultuous, but still the only way. So, raising his voice above the soft persuasive tone he usually adopted, he said, “Yes, you
can
revenge. You can spurn Herbert Lindsey when he comes to you in his poverty to demand forgiveness, and pleads as his excuse, his love for Annie Lowe.”

Well done. Pierce Silverton! You have aroused jealousy to aid the work of revenge.

Flora exclaims, “
His
love! Shall I tamely wait his return? What have I to do with him? Am I not mistress of my father's wealth? And can I not use it in a way to make him repent his insult?”

“You can, and freely, if… If you will marry me,” said Mr Silverton.

And he threw himself at her feet, and clasped her in his arms as she said,
“I will.”

“Let it be soon. Flora. Do not let us wait till everybody is making merry at Christmas; you would not like that.”

The idea of Herbert Lindsey, happy and smiling in the domestic circle of his new-made wife, now arose to Flora's vivid imagination, but restraining her feelings, she said, “Yes, the sooner the better – tomorrow if you like.”

He did not dare to thank her nor even to show his joy; for, as yet, she must consider him the agent of her revenge, not the object of her love. But he kissed her hand in token of gratitude, and exclaimed, “Thine for ever – were it to be a slave!”

Flora sighed, and a shade of weariness was beginning to efface the flush of resentment.

Pierce, determined to make all safe, continued, “You promised me Flora, and tomorrow? You will need very little preparation, for you are more beautiful in this morning dress than Annie Lowe in all her bridal finery.”

The lips of Flora curled with disdain, as she said, “Pierce Silverton, before I was conscious of Herbert's unworthy conduct I wrote to summon him. But if he should so far presume on my former love as to venture into my presence, he shall find me
your wife,
and although I may not require much preparation, I will prove to him that I am not so distressed as to neglect appearances, for I will be dressed like a queen! Make what preparations you choose, and come tomorrow, at this hour. I shall be ready.”

Pride, jealousy and revenge had won for Pierce Silverton the promise that his long enduring love could never have done. But he little heeded
how
she had been won, as he poured forth his passionate vows to an ear that scarcely heard, and kissed a cheek that did not change colour beneath his touch. But he was happy – so happy that all dangers and anxieties were forgotten.

The
coup d'état
had been eminently successful.

 

Flora did not pause to meditate upon her hasty engagement, neither did she weep for the fickleness of Herbert, nor her heart beat with the timid joy of a girl about to become a bride. As soon as Pierce left, she went to her own room to make a few preparations. The hint that she would require none, which in the first instance had aroused her pride, now caused her to survey her graceful figure with more complacency than she had ever done before.

“More beautiful than Annie Lowe – I should think so indeed!” was the thought that crossed her mind, if her lips did not give utterance to the expression. Flora, however, was not a vain girl, although she could not be so strikingly handsome without knowing it. Still, it was not to gratify her vanity – too weak a passion for her nature – that induced her to take a costly dress from her wardrobe. That dress had been worn on a very different occasion; for Miss McAlpin, having been gifted with considerable dramatic powers, had once been requested to join in Private Theatricals – the part allotted to her being that of Julia in
The Hunchback
. She possessed a good deal of the passionate nature of that heroine, but for the present emergency, it was sufficient that she possessed the bridal dress required for the last act. Magnificently beautiful had she looked in it on the night of those theatricals; and it was with a strange mixture of gratified pride and haughty disdain that she drew forth the gorgeous costume, and throwing it on the bed, exclaimed, “There, it will serve as well for one piece of acting as another.”

Whilst thus employed, her maid, having knocked several times at the door without receiving an answer, now entered. The girl looked a little surprised at the display of so much finery, but Miss McAlpin said, in a tone of indifference, “Things of this sort require airing sometimes, Margaret.”

And then, if Margaret had previously suspected the destination of the dress, the manner in which her young mistress tossed it about at once would have caused her to think differently, as wedding dresses are always supposed to be treated with the greatest respect. But Margaret having come to summon Miss McAlpin to dinner, it now became necessary for her to sit down to that meal, if not for the sake other own appetite, at least for that of Miss Garlick.