Chapter Twenty One.
The Scene is again shifted, and the Plot advances.
It will be necessary that for a short time we again follow up the fortunes of our hero’s parents. When Rushbrook and Jane had quitted the village of Grassford, they had not come to any decision as to their future place of abode; all that Rushbrook felt was a desire to remove as far as possible from the spot where the crime had been committed. Such is the feeling that will ever possess the guilty, who, although they may increase their distance, attempt in vain to fly from their consciences, or that All-seeing Eye which follows them everywhere. Jane had a similar feeling, but it arose from her anxiety for her husband. They wandered away, for they had sold everything before their departure, until they found themselves in the West Riding of Yorkshire, and there they at length settled in a small village. Rushbrook easily obtained employment, for the population was scanty, and some months passed away without anything occurring of interest.
Rushbrook had never taken up his employment as a poacher since the night of the murder of the pedlar; he had abjured it from that hour. His knowledge of woodcraft was, however, discovered, and he was appointed first as under, and eventually as head keeper to a gentleman of landed property in the neighbourhood. In this situation they had remained about a year, Rushbrook giving full satisfaction to his employer, and comparatively contented (for no man could have such a crime upon his conscience, and not pass occasional hours of misery and remorse), and Jane was still mourning in secret for her only and darling child, when one day a paper was put into Rushbrook’s hands by his master, desiring him to read an advertisement which it contained, and which was as follows:— “If Joseph Rushbrook, who formerly lived in the village of Grassford, in the county of Devon, should be still alive, and will make his residence known to Messrs Pearce, James, and Simpson, of 14, Chancery-lane, he will hear of something greatly to his advantage. Should he be dead, and this advertisement meet the eye of his heirs, they are equally requested to make the communication to the above address.”
“What does it mean, sir?” inquired Rushbrook.
“It means that, if you are that person, in all probability there is some legacy bequeathed to you by a relative,” replied Mr S—; “is it you?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Rushbrook, changing colour; “I did once live at Grassford.”
“Then you had better write to the parties and make yourself known. I will leave you the newspaper.”
“What think you, Jane?” said Rushbrook, as soon as Mr — had quitted.
“I think he is quite right,” replied Jane.
“But, Jane, you forgot—this may be a trap; they may have discovered something about—you know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do, and I wish we could forget it; but in this instance I do not think you have anything to fear. There is no reward offered for your apprehension, but for my poor boy’s, who is now wandering over the wide world; and no one would go to the expense to apprehend you, if there was nothing to be gained by it.”
“True,” replied Rushbrook, after a minute’s reflection; “but, alas! I am a coward now: I will write.”
Rushbrook wrote accordingly, and, in reply, received a letter inclosing a bank-bill for 20 pounds, and requesting that he would come to town immediately. He did so, and found, to his astonishment, that he was the heir-at-law to a property of 7,000 pounds per annum—with the only contingency, that he was, as nearest of kin, to take the name of Austin. Having entered into all the arrangements required by the legal gentleman, he returned to Yorkshire, with 500 pounds in his pocket, to communicate the intelligence to his wife; and when he did so, and embraced her, she burst into tears.
“Rushbrook, do not think I mean to reproach you by these tears; but I cannot help thinking that you would have been happier had this never happened. Your life will be doubly sweet to you now, and Joey’s absence will be a source of more vexation than ever. Do you think that you will be happier?”
“Jane, dearest! I have been thinking of it as well as you, and, on reflection, I think I shall be safer. Who would know the poacher Rushbrook in the gentleman of 7,000 pounds a year, of the name of Austin? Who would dare accuse him, even if there were suspicion? I feel that once in another county, under another name, and in another situation, I shall be safe.”
“But our poor boy, should he ever come back—”
“Will also be forgotten. He will have grown up a man, and, having another name, will never be recognised: they will not even know what our former name was.”
“I trust that it will be as you say. What do you now mean to do?”
“I shall say that I have a property of four or five hundred pounds left me, and that I intend to go up to London,” replied Rushbrook.
“Yes, that will be wise; it will be an excuse for our leaving this place, and will be no clue to where we are going,” replied Jane.
Rushbrook gave up his situation, sold his furniture, and quitted Yorkshire. In a few weeks afterwards he was installed into his new property, a splendid mansion, and situated in the west of Dorsetshire. Report had gone before them; some said that a common labourer had come into the property, others said it was a person in very moderate circumstances; as usual, both these reports were contradicted by a third, which represented him as a half-pay lieutenant in the army. Rushbrook had contrived to mystify even the solicitor as to his situation in life; he stated to him that he had retired from the army, and lived upon the government allowance; and it was in consequence of a reference to the solicitor, made by some of the best families in the neighbourhood, who wished to ascertain if the newcomers were people who could be visited, that this third report was spread, and universally believed. We have already observed that Rushbrook was a fine, tall man; and if there is any class of people who can be transplanted with success from low to high life, it will be those who have served in the army. The stoop is the evidence of a low-bred, vulgar man; the erect bearing equally so that of the gentleman. Now, the latter is gained in the army, by drilling and discipline, and being well-dressed will provide for all else that is required, as far as mere personal appearance is concerned. When, therefore, the neighbours called upon Mr and Mrs Austin they were not surprised to find an erect, military-looking man, but they were very much surprised to find him matched with such a fine, and even elegant-looking woman, as his wife. Timid at first, Jane had sufficient tact to watch others and copy; and before many months were passed in their new position, it would have been difficult to suppose that Mrs Austin had not been born in the sphere in which she then moved. Austin was brusque and abrupt in his manners as before; but still there was always a reserve about him, which he naturally felt, and which assisted to remove the impression of vulgarity. People who are distant are seldom considered ungentlemanlike, although they may be considered unpleasant in their manners. It is those who are too familiar who obtain the character of vulgarity.
Austin, therefore, was respected, but not liked; Jane, on the contrary, whose beauty had now all the assistance of dress, and whose continued inward mourning for her lost son had improved that beauty by the pensive air which she wore, was a deserved and universal favourite. People of course said that Austin was a harsh husband, and pitied poor Mrs Austin; but that people always do say if a woman is not inclined to mirth.
Austin found ample amusement in sporting over his extensive manor, and looking after his game. In one point the neighbouring gentlemen were surprised, that, although so keen a sportsman himself, he never could be prevailed upon to convict a poacher. He was appointed a magistrate, and being most liberal in all his subscriptions, was soon considered as a great acquisition to the county. His wife was much sought after, but it was invariably observed that, when children were mentioned, the tears stood in her eyes. Before they had been a year in their new position, they had acquired all the knowledge and tact necessary; their establishment was on a handsome scale; they were visited and paid visits to all the aristocracy and gentry, and were as popular as they could have desired to be. But were they happy? Alas! no. Little did those who envied Austin his property and establishment imagine what a load was on his mind—what a corroding care was wearing out his existence. Little did they imagine that he would gladly have resigned all, and been once more the poacher in the village of Grassford, to have removed from his conscience the deed of darkness which he had committed, and once more have his son by his side. And poor Jane, her thoughts were day and night upon one object—where was her child? It deprived her of rest at night; she remained meditating on her fate for hours during the day; it would rush into her mind in the gayest scenes and the happiest moments; it was one incessant incubus—one continual source of misery. Of her husband she thought less; for she knew how sincerely contrite he was for the deed he had done—how bitterly he had repented it ever since, and how it would, as long as he lived, be a source of misery—a worm that would never die, but gnaw till the last hour of his existence. But her boy—her noble, self-sacrificed little Joey!—he and his destiny were ever in her thoughts; and gladly would she have been a pauper applying for relief, if she had but that child to have led up in her hand. And yet all the county thought how happy and contented the Austins ought to be, to have suddenly come into possession of so much wealth. ’Tis God alone that knows the secrets of the heart of man.