Authors: George W. M. Reynolds,James Malcolm Rymer
HOPES AND FEARS
WE must now go back to the preceding day, and introduce our
readers to Markham Place, immediately after the Buffer had called upon Richard
in the manner already described.
Richard had received him in the library, and had there heard
the exciting news of which the Buffer was the bearer.
Dismissing the man to the kitchen to partake of some
refreshment, Richard hastened to the parlour, where Mr. Monroe and Ellen were seated.
The past sorrows and anxieties which the young man had
experienced were now all forgotten : forgotten also was the dread
exposure which he had so recently received at the theatre, - an exposure which
had deprived him of the honourable renown earned by his own talent, - an
exposure, too, which had induced Ellen to abandon that career wherein she
excelled so pre-eminently.
The idea of meeting his well-beloved brother now alone
occupied his mind :- the hope of seeing and even succouring the wanderer
banished every other consideration.
His cheek, lately so pale. was flushed with a glue of
animation, and his eyes glistened with delight, as he rushed into the room
where Ellen and her father were seated.
"Eugene is returned - my brother has come back at last!
" he exclaimed.
"Your brother!" repeated Ellen, a deadly pallor
overspreading her countenance.
"Eugene!" cried Mr. Monroe, in a tone of deep
interest.
"Yes - Eugene is in London - is returned,"
answered Richard, not noticing the strange impression which his words had made,
and still produced upon Ellen, who now sat incapable of motion in her chair, as
if she were suddenly paralyzed "Eugene is in London! A man has just been
to tell me this welcome news; and I am to see my brother to-morrow
evening."
"To-morrow evening!" said Mr.Monroe. "And why
not now - at once?"
"Alas! my brother is in some difficulty, and dares not
appear at the dwelling of his forefathers. I am not aware of the nature of that
dilemma, but I am assured that he has need of my help."
"Where are you to meet him?" inquired Monroe,
somewhat surprised by the singularity of this announcement.
"At the eastern extremity of London - on the banks of
the canal, near some place called Twig Folly."
"And at what hour?" demanded the old man.
"To-morrow night, at ten precisely," was the
reply.
"Do you know the man who brought you this message? or
have you received a letter?" asked Ellen. who now began to breathe more
freely.
"No, I never saw the man before; nor have I any letter.
But, surely, you cannot suppose that any one is deceiving me in so cruel a
manner?"
"I feel convinced of it," said Ellen, with
peculiar emphasis on her words and warmth in her manner.
"No - no - impossible!" cried Markham, unwilling
to allow the hope which had a moment ago appeared so bright, to be obscured by
the mists of doubt: then, acting upon a sudden impulse, he rang the bell
violently.
Whittingham speedily made his appearance.
"The man that I have just sent below, "said
Richard, hastily, " has come to inform me that my brother is in
London —"
"Mister Eugene in London!" ejaculated the old
butler, forgetting his gravity, and literally beginning to dance with joy.
"And he has appointed to meet me to-morrow evening in a
very distant and lonely part of London," continued. Markham "This
circumstance seems suspicious - strange ;- at least so Miss Monroe thinks
—"
"Nay - I do not
think,
Richard: I am
sure,
" exclaimed Ellen, with the
same emphasis which had marked her previous declaration.
"At all events, Whittingham," said Markham,
"do you return to the kitchen, get into conversation with the man, and
then give us your opinion."
The old butler withdrew to execute these orders.
Markham then began to pace the room in an agitated manner.
"I cannot think who could be cruel enough to practise
such a vile cheat upon me," he said, "if a cheat it really be. No one
would benefit hi by so doing. Besides - the man spoke of the appointment which my
brother made when we parted on yonder hill; he spoke of that appointment as a
token of his sincerity - as a proof of the veracity of his statement - as an
evidence that he came direct from Eugene!"
"Many persons are acquainted with the fact of that,
appointment," said Ellen. "There is not an individual in this
neighbourhood who is ignorant of the meeting that is named for the 10th of
July, 1843, between the ash-trees on that hill."
"True!" exclaimed Markham. "The mere mention
of that appointment is scarcely a sufficient evidence. And yet my brother might
deem that it would prove sufficient: Eugene may not know how suspicious the
deceits of this world are calculated to render the mind that has been their
victim."
"I have no doubt that Eugene is by this time as well
acquainted with the world as you can be, Richard," persisted Ellen;
"and I am also convinced that if he were to send such a message to you as
this stranger has brought - making an appointment at a strange place and at a
very lonely hour - he would have been careful to accompany it with some
undeniable token of its genuineness."
"You reason sensibly, Ellen," said Markham;
"and yet I am by no means inclined to surrender up the hope that was just
now so consoling to my heart - wounded as that heart is by many
misfortunes!"
"I reason consistently with your interests,"
returned Ellen. "Nothing could persuade me that your brother would fail to
write a line to you in such a case as this is represented to be."
"What say you, Mr. Monroe?" inquired Richard.
"I am hesitating between the two arguments,"
answered the old man: "I know not whether to encourage the hope to which
you cling - or to suffer myself to be persuaded by the reasoning of
Ellen."
At this moment Whittingham returned to the parlour.
"The enwoy-plentipotent-and-hairy is gone,! said
Whittingham; "and, although he didn't show his credentials, my firm
compression is that he was raly the representation of the court he said he come
from."
"You questioned him closely?" asked Markham.
" You know, Master Richard, I can put a poser or two
now and then and if this man had been a
compostor, I should have
circumwented him pretty soon, I can assure you."
"He answered your questions in a straightforward
manner, then?" persisted Richard.
"He couldn't have been more straightfor'ard,"
replied Whittingham. "I'm sure he's a honest, simple-hearted, well-meaning
man."
"Then it is decided!" ejaculated Richard-: "I
will go to this appointment. Who knows in what peril my poor brother may be?
who can say from what dangers I may save him? who can explain what powerful
motives he may have for the nature of the appointment he has made, and the
caution be has adopted in making it? I should be wrong to allow a suspicion to
interfere with a duty. Were any thing serious to happen to Eugene, through the
want of a friend at this moment, how should I ever reproach myself? I will not
incur such a chance: I will go to-morrow evening to the spot named, and to the
hour appointed!"
Whittingham withdrew; and Ellen once more endeavoured to
deter Richard from his resolution.
"In the name of God, reflect," she exclaimed, with
an earnestness which, had he not been otherwise preoccupied, would have struck
him by its peculiarity, for it seemed rather the impassioned expression of a
conviction based on indisputable grounds, than a doubt which might be based on
truth or error ;- "in the name of God, reflect, Richard, ere you
endanger your life, perhaps, by going at a suspicious hour to a lonely place.
Remember, you have enemies: recollect how nearly you met your death at the
bands of
one villain
in the neighbourhood of Bird-Cage
Walk - the narrative of which occurrence and your miraculous escape you have so
often related to us ;- reflect that that was not the only occasion on which the
same miscreant has sought to injure you —"
"I know to what you allude, Ellen," said Markham,
significantly; "and I thank you sincerely for your interest in my behalf.
But, believe me, there is no Resurrection Man in the present matter: all is
straightforward - I feel convinced of it."
Markham uttered these words in a tone which left no scope
for further argument or remonstrance; and Ellen threw herself back in her
chair, a prey to reflections of the most painful nature.
At length she retired to her chamber to meditate a in secret
upon the incident of the morning.
"What can I do," she mused aloud, "to
convince Richard Markham that he is nursing a delusion? I tremble lest
some enemy should meditate treachery against him. Perhaps even his life may be
threatened? Oh! the plots - the perfidies - the villanies which are engendered
in this London! But how warn him? how prove to him that he is deceived? Alas!
that is impossible ; unless, indeed —"
But she shook her head impatiently, as if to renounce as
impracticable the idea which had for a moment occupied her mind.
"No," she continued, "that were madness
indeed! And yet what can be done? He must not be allowed to rush headlong and
blindly into danger - for that danger awaits him, I feel convinced. Perhaps
that terrible man, from whose power he once escaped, and who denounced him at
the theatre, may be the instigator of all this? And, if such be the fact, then
who knows where the atrocity of that miscreant may stop? Murder - cold-blooded,
ruthless murder may be the result of this mysterious appointment. And the
murder of whom?" said Ellen, a shudder passing, like a cold chill,
over her entire frame: "the murder of my benefactor - of the noble-minded,
the generous hearted young men who gave us an asylum when all the world forsook
us! Oh! no - no - it must not be! I dare not tell him all I know; but I can do
somewhat to protect him!"
She smiled, in spite of the unpleasant nature o! the emotions
that agitated her bosom - she smiled, because a wild and romantic idea had
entered her imagination.
Without further hesitation, - and acting under the sudden
impulse of that idea, - she sat down and wrote a short note.
When she had sealed and addressed it, she rant the
bell.
In a few moments Marian answered the summons.
"My faithful friend," said Ellen, "I am about
to put your goodness to another test. But before I explain what I require of
you, I beseech that you will not now endeavour to penetrate my motives. You
shall know all the day after to-morrow."
"Speak, Miss; I am always ready to do any thing I can
for you," said Marian.
"In the evening," continued Ellen, "you must
find a pretence to go out for two or three hours. In the first instance you
must call at Mr. Greenwood's house —"
"Mr. Greenwood's?" ejaculated Marian.
"Yes - but your business is not this time with him. On
the contrary, he must not know the real motive of your visit, which is to
deliver this note into the hands of his Italian valet Filippo. You have never
seen Filippo - for he entered the service of Mr. Greenwood since you called
there some months ago. You cannot, however, mistake him. He is a tall, dark
man, with long black curling hair. Moreover, he speaks English with a strong
foreign accent."
"The description is sufficient, Miss," said
Marian, " I shall not be mistaken."
"This note is to be delivered into his hand and his
only," continued Ellen. "Should you meet Mr. Greenwood by accident,
you may say, '
I come from Miss Monroe to inform you that your child is well
and thriving
.' This will be an excuse, I must leave the rest to you; but I
implore you to do all you can to obtain an interview with Filippo."
"I will follow your wishes, Miss, to the utmost of my
power," returned Marian.
"And when you know the motives of my present
proceeding," said Ellen, "you will be satisfied with the part you
have taken in it."
"I do not doubt you, Miss," observed Marian
"Have you seen the dear little baby lately?"
"I saw him yesterday," answered Ellen, "I
called at Mr. Wentworth's: the excellent man's wife was nursing my little
Richard. I took him in my arms and fondled him; but, alas! he cried bitterly.
Of course he does not know me: he will learn to look up to a stranger as his
mother! Oh Marian, that idea pierced like a dagger to my very heart!"
"Cheer up, Miss!" exclaimed Marian, in a kind
tone; "better days will come."
"But never the day, Marian," added Ellen,
solemnly, "when I can proclaim myself the mother of that child, nor blush
to mention its father's name!"
FEMALE COURAGE
HOLYWELL STREET was once noted only as a mart for second-hand
clothing, and booksellers' shops
dealing in indecent prints and
volumes. The reputation it thus acquired was not a very creditable one.
Time has, however, included Holywell Street in the clauses
of its Reform Bill. Several highly respectable booksellers and publishers have
located themselves in the place that once deserved no better denomination than
Rag Fair. The unprincipled venders of demoralizing books and pictures have,
with few exceptions, migrated into Wych Street or Drury Lane; and even the two
or three that pertinaciously cling to their old temples of infamy in Holywell
Street, seem to be aware of the incursions of respectability into that once
notorious thoroughfare, and cease to outrage decency by the display of vile
obscenities in their windows.
The reputation of Holywell Street has now ceased to be a
by-word: it is respectable ; and, as a mart for the sale of literary wares,
threatens to rival Paternoster Row.
It is curious to observe that, while butchers, tailors,
linen-drapers, tallow-manufacturers, and toy-venders, are gradually dislodging
the booksellers of Paternoster Row, and thus changing the once exclusive nature
of this famous street into one of general features, the booksellers, on the
other hand, are gradually ousting the old clothes dealers of Holywell Street.
As the progress of the American colonist towards the
far-west drives before it the aboriginal inhabitants, so do the inroads of the
bibliopoles menace the Israelites of Holywell Street with total extinction.
Paternoster Row and Holywell Street are both toeing their
primitive features: the former is becoming a mart of miscellaneous trades ; the
latter is rising into a bazaar of booksellers.
Already has Holywell Street progressed far towards this
consummation. On the southern side of the thoroughfare scarcely a clothes shop
remains; and those on the opposite side wear a dirty and miserably dilapidated
appearance. The huge masks, which denote the warehouse where masquerading and
fancy-attire may be procured on sale or hire, seem to "grin horribly a
ghastly smile," as if they knew that their occupation was all but gone.
The red-haired ladies who stand at their doors beneath a canopy of grey
trousers with black seats, and blue coats with brown elbows - a distant
imitation of Joseph's garment of many colours - seem dispirited and care-worn,
and no longer watch, with the delighted eyes of maternal affection, their
promising offspring playing in the gutters. Their glances are turned towards
the east - a sure sign that they meditate an early migration to the pleasant
regions which touch upon the Minories.
Holywell Street is now a thoroughfare which no one can decry
on the score of reputation: it is, however, impossible to deny that, were the
southern range of houses pulled down, the Strand would reap an immense
advantage, and a fine road would be opened from the New Church to Saint Clement
Danes.
It was about half-past seven in the evening that Ellen
Monroe, dressed in the most simple manner, and enveloped in a large cloak,
entered Holywell Street.
Her countenance was pale ; but its expression was one of
resolution and firmness.
She walked slowly along from the west end of the street
towards the eastern extremity, glancing anxiously upon the countenances of
those traders who stood in front of the second-hand clothes shops.
At length she beheld a female - one of the identical ladies
with red hair above alluded to - standing on the threshold of one of those
warehouses.
Ellen looked upwards, and perceived all kinds of articles of
male attire suspended over the head of this female, and swinging backwards and
forwards, like so many men hanging, upon the shop-front.
Ellen paused - glanced wistfully at the Jewess, and appeared
to hesitate.
Her manner was so peculiar, that, although the clothes
venders do not usually solicit the custom at females, the Jewess immediately
exclaimed in a sharp under-tone, "Sell or buy, ma'am?"
Ellen turned, without another moment's hesitation, into the
shop.
" I wish to purchase a complete suit of male attire -
for myself," said Miss Monroe. "Serve me quickly - and we shall not
dispute about the price."
These last words denoted a customer of precisely the nature
that was most agreeable to the Jewess. She accordingly bustled about her,
ransacked drawers and cupboards, and spread such a quantity of coats, trousers,
and waistcoats, before Ellen, that the young lady was quite bewildered.
"Select me a good suit which you think will fit
me," said Miss Monroe, after a moment's hesitation; "and allow me to
try it on in a private room."
"Certainly, ma am," answered the Jewess; and,
having looked out a suit, she conducted Ellen up stairs into her own
sleeping-apartment.
"And now I require a hat and a pair of boots,"
said Ellen ;-" in a word, every thing suitable to form a complete male
disguise. I am going to a masquerade," she added, with a smile.
The Jewess made no reply: it did not concern her, if her
customer chose to metamorphose herself, so long as she was paid; and se
accordingly hastened to supply all the remaining apparel necessary to complete
the disguise.
She then left Ellen to dress herself at leisure. And soon
that charming form was clothed in the raiment of the other sex: those delicate
feet and ankles were encased in heavy boots; thick blue trousers hampered the
limbs lately so supple in the voluptuous dance; a coarse shirt and faded silk
waistcoat imprisoned the lovely bosom; a collar and black neckcloth concealed
the swan-like neck and dazzling whiteness of the throat; and a capacious frock
coat concealed the admirable symmetry of the faultless figure. The hair was
then gathered up in a manner which would not betray the sex of the wearer of
those coarse habiliments, especially when the disguise was aided by the
darkness of the night, and when that luxuriant mass was covered with the
broad-brimmed and somewhat slouching hat which the Jewess had provided for the
purpose.
Ellen's toilette was thus completed, and she then descended
to the shop.
The Jewess - perhaps not altogether accustomed to such
occurrences - made no comment, and took no impertinent notice of the
metamorphosed lady. She contented herself with asking a handsome price for the
clothes and accommodation afforded; - and Ellen paid the sum without a murmur,
merely observing that she should send for her own apparel next day.
Miss Monroe then left the shop, and issued from Holywell
Street just as the church clocks in the neighbourhood struck eight.
The reader has, doubtless, seen enough of the character to
be well aware that she had acquired a considerable amount of fortitude and
self-possession from the various circumstances in which she has
been placed: she was not,
therefore, now likely to betray any diffidence or timidity as she threaded, in
male attire, the crowded streets of the metropolis. She threw into her gait as
much assurance as possible; and thus, without exciting any particular notice,
she pursued her way towards the eastern districts of the great city.
The weather was cold and damp; but the rain, which had
fallen in torrents the day before, had apparently expended its rage for a short
interval. A sharp wind, however, swept through the streets; and Ellen pitied
the poor shivering, half-naked wretches, whom she saw huddling upon steps, or
crouching beneath archways, as she passed along.
Ellen walked rapidly, and having gained Bishopsgate Street,
proceeded as far as the terminus of the Eastern Counties Railway.
There she halted, and glanced anxiously around her.
In a few minutes, a tall man, wrapped up an a large cloak,
came up to the spot where she was standing.
"Is that you, Filippo?" said Ellen.
"Yes, Miss; I am here in obedience to your
commands," returned Mr. Greenwood's Italian valet. "I promised your
servant yesterday evening that I would be punctual to the hour - half-past
eight - to-night; and I have kept my word."
"I owe you a debt of gratitude, which I never shall be
able to repay," said Ellen. "Your generous behaviour towards me on a
former occasion emboldened me to write to you when I required a friend. I told
you in my note not to be surprised if you should find me disguised in male
attire; I moreover requested you to arm yourself with pistols. Have you
complied with this desire on my part? "
"I have, Miss," answered Filippo. "Conceiving
it to be impossible that you could wish me to aid you in any dishonourable
service, I have attended to your commands in every respect. I mentioned to you
when we last met that my mission to England is from a lady now enjoying a
sovereign rank, and that it is devoted to good and liberal purposes. Under
those circumstances, I am ready to assist you in any manner consistent with my
own principles and with the real objects of my mission."
"You will this night be the means of rendering an
essential service to a fellow-creature," said Ellen, in an impressive
tone. "A foul conspiracy against him, - whether to take his life or for
other purposes of villany, I know not, - has been devised; and he has blindly
fallen into the snare that has been spread for him. At ten o'clock he is to
attend an appointment on the banks of the canal at a place called Twig Folly.
We must proceed thither: we must watch at a little distance; and, if need be,
we must interpose to save him."
"A more simple plan, Miss," said the Italian,
"would be to warn this individual of his danger."
"I have done so; but he will not believe that treachery
is intended," returned Ellen.
"Then another effectual manner to counteract the
designs of villains in such a case is to obtain the assistance of the police."
"No, Filippo; such a proceeding would lead to inquiries
and investigations whence would transpire circumstances that must not be made
known."
"Miss Monroe, this proceeding on your part is so
mysterious, that I hesitate whether to accompany you further," said the
Italian.
While thus conversing, they had pursued their way, Ellen
being the guide, along Church Street into the Bethnal Green Road.
"Come with me - do not hesitate - I implore you,"
exclaimed Ellen. " If you persist in penetrating my motives for acting in
this strange manner, I will tell you all, rather than you should retreat at a
moment when it is too late for me to obtain other succour. And be your resolve
as it may," added Ellen, hastily, "nothing shall induce me to turn
back. Desert me - abandon me if you will, Filippo - but, in the name of every
thing sacred, lend me the weapons which you carry with you."
The Italian made no reply for some moments, but continued to
walk rapidly along by the side of the disguised lady.
"I will believe, Miss Monroe," he said, at length,
"that your motives are excellent; but are you well advised?"
"Listen," exclaimed Ellen. "The individual,
whose life we may perhaps this night save, is Richard Markham - the generous
young man who has been a son to my father, and a brother to myself."
"I have heard Mr. Greenwood mention his name many
times," observed Filippo.
"He believes that he is to meet his brother, from whom
he has been for many years separated, this night on the banks of the
canal," continued Ellen. - "For certain reasons I know most
positively that the idea of such an appointment can only be a plot on the part
of some enemies of Richard Markham. And yet I dared not communicate those
reasons to him - Oh! no," added Ellen, with a shudder, "that was
impossible - impossible!"
"I do not seek to penetrate further into your secrets,
Miss," said Filippo, struck by the earnestness of the young lady's manner,
and naturally inclined to admire the heroism of her character, a developed by
the proceeding in which he was now bearing a part.
"And the necessity of keeping those
certain reasons
a profound secret,"
continued Ellen, "has also prevented me from procuring the intervention of
the police. In the same way, should the result of our present expedition
introduce you to the notice of Mr. Markham, it would be necessary for you to
retain as a profound secret who you are - how you came to accompany me - and
especially your connexion with Mr. Greenwood. Not for worlds must the name of
Greenwood be mentioned in the presence of Richard Markham! If it should be
necessary to enter into explanations with him, leave that task to me ; and
contradict nothing that you may hear me state. I have my motives for all I do
and all I say - motives so grave, so important, that, did you know them all,
you would applaud and not doubt me. And now are you satisfied?"
"Perfectly," returned Filippo : "I will not
ask another question, nor hesitate another moment."
"My everlasting gratitude is your due," said
Ellen. "And now, one more favour have I to ask."
"Name it," answered the Italian.
"Give me one of your pistols."
"But, Miss Monroe —"
"Pray do not refuse me! I am not a coward; and I must
inform you that I learnt to fire a pistol at the theatre."
The Italian handed the young lady one of his loaded weapons.
She concealed it beneath the breast of her coat; - and her
heart palpitated with pride and satisfaction.
Ellen and the Italian then quickened their pace, and
proceeded rapidly towards Globe Town.