CHAPTER XXII.
It is impossible to describe the joy and satisfaction with which the excellent people at Emberton had heard that Mr. Tims, the old miser at Ryebury, had been murdered. I do not, of course, mean to say that every one in the whole town had those enlarged and general views which made them take in at once all the infinite advantages, both moral and physical, which that event was likely to afford them. Some, indeed, only calculated on the overflowing and inexhaustible source of bustle, excitement, surmise, and gossip, which was thus opened to them. Some fixed their thoughts upon the renown that Emberton would acquire throughout the world, as the place where the dreadful murder was committed, and others calculated upon wealth and emolument, from the number of visitors that it would bring to see the place. But only a few, of more vast and comprehensive minds, saw all these particulars in one general view, and rubbed their hands in great anticipations, as sharing in the sweet excitement of the moment, they talked over the murder with their neighbors, and added many bright touches from their own fancy to ornament the bloody deed.
The first news of the event that reached Emberton had been conveyed by farmer Ritson's hind, who supplied the old miser with his quotidian pennyworth of milk, and who had discovered the deed on applying in vain for admission. He alarmed his master, whose house was half a mile distant, and the good farmer instantly sent the intelligence to Emberton. The messenger's arrival took place just five minutes after Mr. Tims, junior, had driven through the town on his way to the mansion at the park; and as both Dr. Wilton and Mr. Egerton, the nearest magistrates, had passed the preceding evening and night at Emberton, inquiring into some suspicious circumstances connected with the burning of Mrs. Darlington's house, they were instantly called from their breakfast, and proceeded to examine into this fresh crime, which was destined to illustrate the annals of the neighborhood.
They found the house at Ryebury already surrounded by a number of people; and from among them various persons stepped forward to offer some little item of testimony; but an unexpected visitor soon appeared in the person of the lawyer, who, on leaving the park, in not the most placable humor, ordered the post-boy to drive to his uncle's house, and arrived just as the magistrates were about to leave the premises. No sooner did he hear of the event than he determined, if possible, to involve the family of Sir Sidney Delaware in the consequences, and entered into an examination of the circumstances, which soon not only furnished him with the means of doing so, but also really convinced him that Captain Delaware was guilty of the crime that he proposed to impute to him. He at once laid his charge, and related the circumstances of his late transaction with Sir Sidney Delaware's family in his own particular way. He would fain, indeed, have involved the father, too, in the accusation he brought against the son; but his own clerk, and the sheriff's-officer, distinctly stated before the magistrates, that it had been evident throughout, that Sir Sidney had not been aware, on their first arrival, that his son was in possession of the money necessary to pay the debt; and, for fear of spoiling a very hopeful case against Captain Delaware, the lawyer was obliged to abandon all charge against the baronet.
If the news of the murder alone had so soothed and gratified each of those mixed feelings--the love of the marvelous, the passion for talking, and the general dislike to our fellow-creatures, which all--combined with, or rather, as it were, embedded in a soft stratum of vanity--enter into the spirit of gossiping; how much more were the good folks of Emberton delighted and stimulated when they heard the charge against Captain Delaware, and learned that the result of the coroner's inquest was a verdict of willful murder against him. The reason why we are so much better pleased when a person in our own or a superior station commits a crime, or enacts a folly--why we tell it immediately to every one we meet, and aggravate it by our own comments--is, probably, that a person in that rank having had as great advantages in circumstances and education as ourselves, our vanity has the full opportunity of complimenting us on not having done the same, without the necessity of admitting one deduction on the score of greater temptations, or inferior knowledge, which we are compelled to do when the criminal is low, ignorant, or poor. The fact is, in all these cases, we make ourselves a bow on our own good behavior, and the lowness of the bow depends upon the relative situation of the sinner or the fool over whom we crow.
Thus, when the matter came to be discussed at Emberton, every one cried out, "Well, one would have thought that a young man of such hopes, and such an education as this Captain Delaware, would be the last to commit so dreadful a crime! A poor, ignorant wretch, driven to vice from necessity, one might have suspected; but not the son of a baronet, and a master and commander in the king's navy!"
Among such speculations fled away the evening; and, as we have said--although the people did not illuminate the town--the verdict of the coroner's jury certainly did make them as happy as the gossiping, envious, scandalous community of a little country town could be made. Early the next moment, however, just as the chaise which was to convey the prisoner to the county town was about to set out for his father's house, and as all the people of Emberton were preparing to turn out, and stare at him as he passed, a buzzing rumor began to spread abroad that Captain Delaware had escaped in the night.
"Escaped!" cried the old maiden in the house at the corner of the bridge, letting fall the china cup from her hand as the maid announced the fatal intelligence--"Escaped! then we shall all be murdered in our beds! Escaped!--why did they let the ruffian escape?"
In a different manner did the mercer bear the tidings; for, without replying one word to the shop-boy who told him, he proceeded to carry the news direct to the stationer's; and, as he detailed it, he added, "So there can be no doubt of his guilt now!"
"There never was any! There never was any!" replied the linen-draper in the same charitable spirit. "But you have heard that wild Wat Harrison, the widow's son, has not been seen or heard of for the last two or three days, and that there are manifold suspicions--"
"To be sure! To be sure! Those Delawares were always fond of him," replied the mercer. "He sailed with this very captain, you know; and it seems he has been under his orders once too often. I always said he would come to be hanged!"
While such charitable conversation was passing at Emberton, the magistrates were not inactive; warrants, horses, and constables were dispatched in all directions, and both Dr. Wilton and Mr. Egerton, well knowing the blame that would attach to themselves, returned to the mansion to investigate by what means the prisoner had escaped. The constables in whose charge the prisoner had been left, and the room which he had occupied, were first examined. The two men declared upon oath, that no one had been admitted to the accused but themselves, since he had been remanded; that they had both slept in the ante-room; that the door had been locked all night; that the window was far too high to afford the means of evasion; and that they had both seen and spoken to Captain Delaware as late as eleven the preceding night. The inferior constable at the same time handed the fugitive's letter to Dr. Wilton, who opened and read it, while Mr. Egerton made the first superficial examination of the room; and, as his fellow-magistrate was about to institute a more rigorous investigation, the clergyman exclaimed--
"Stay, stay, Mr. Egerton, this letter concerns us both, and in it William Delaware alludes, in some measure, to the method of his intended escape. See here! He says the officers are entirely guiltless of it, as it is by a passage they are not acquainted with."
"Then there must be some private entrance," said Mr. Egerton.
"I dare say there is," answered Dr. Wilton; "but this letter, in many points, throws some new light upon the subject. Read it! Read it! and, at all events, let us, as far as we can, do the poor boy justice. Read it, my dear sir!"
Mr. Egerton took it to the window, and read it attentively over. He then gave the letter back to Dr. Wilton, saying, "He makes out a good case against his accuser; but I am afraid, my dear doctor, that it will not screen himself. However, on every account--for charity's sake, and for the sake of mere justice--I will, of course, exert myself to the utmost--that is to say, quietly--quietly, you know, for the matter is nearly out of our hands--but I will exert myself to the utmost to discover every fact connected with the charge. In the mean time, we must do our duty, and endeavor to recover our prisoner: Let us examine the walls."
"First examine the floor," said Dr. Wilton. "Sliding panels have not been to be found since the epoch of Udolpho, but trap-doors are to be met with in all these old houses."
The hint was instantly complied with; and the trap-door was discovered at once, together with its communication with the park. Nothing farther, however, could be made of this fact. The way the fugitive had taken remained still undiscovered; and the only effect which their investigation produced upon the minds of the two magistrates was, that each perceived at once that the means which Captain Delaware had taken to make his escape, might very well have served another person for the purpose of placing the money in his chamber unseen; and thus his tale acquired a degree of probability which it had not before possessed.
When the examination was concluded, as far as it could be carried at the time, and every necessary measure for overtaking the fugitive had been put in train for execution, Mr. Egerton went back to Emberton to confer with the coroner, who was hourly expected to return to that little town, in order to see the prisoner dispatched to the county jail. Dr. Wilton, in the mean while, laying aside his magisterial capacity, proceeded, as a friend and a clergyman, to visit Sir Sidney Delaware and his daughter. He found them, as he had expected, depressed in the extreme, and saw that they were naturally in a high state of nervous anxiety in regard to Captain Delaware's safety. At first there was a degree of painful embarrassment in the whole deportment of Sir Sidney Delaware, which made him treat even Dr. Wilton with no small haughtiness and reserve. But the good clergyman came to console and to soothe; and he persevered with all those kindly and feeling attentions, which are sure ultimately to win their way to an amiable heart, however much the road thither may be obstructed by the pride of undeserved shame, or the reckless repulsiveness of bitter disappointment.
When he found Sir Sidney unwilling to listen, impatient of consolation, or heedless of conversation, he turned to Blanche, and won her into the innocent manœuvre of wiling her father from his bitterer thoughts. Gradually the feelings of the baronet relaxed; he was brought more and more to speak of his own sorrows, and of his son's unhappy fate; and though a tear or two forced themselves through his eyelids, his griefs and even his apprehensions--as a sometimes the case--were partly lost as they were poured forth into a friendly ear.
We must do justice to all, however. Dr. Wilton was not the only friend who came to soothe and console the unhappy family at Emberton Park; and the person who next appeared was certainly one whom they did not expect to see. It was Mrs. Darlington, who had lately taken a house at the distance of about ten miles. After spending a part of the preceding day at Emberton, she had returned to her dwelling, in no small horror at the charge which she heard had been brought against her young friend, William Delaware.
Now Mrs. Darlington, as we have shown before, was not without her foibles and absurdities, but withal she had a far greater share of real goodness of heart, and of the milk of human kindness, than generally falls to the lot of that amphibious class called very good sort of people. It must also be remarked, that though she was in no degree very brilliant, and only made herself ridiculous by the smattering of pretty accomplishments which she possessed, yet there was a certain rectitude of understanding about her, which, in early years, taking the form of tact, enabled her to assume at once the tone of a society above the rank in which she was born; and which, in after life, had often guided her to just conclusions, when people without half her little weaknesses, and who pretended to ten times her abilities, were all in the wrong.
In the present instance, no sooner did she hear of the accusation against Captain Delaware, than, from her previous knowledge of his character, she pronounced it at once to be perfect nonsense; and when Dr. Wilton informed her that he and Mr. Egerton had remanded the young officer on suspicion, she merely asked, "How they could be so foolish?" The coroner's inquest produced no other effect. She still pronounced it all nonsense together; and quietly declared to her maid that she was sure it would ultimately be found that the people who had murdered the poor old man were the very same who had set fire to her house and carried off her plate.
The worthy lady, however, passed the whole of that evening and the next morning in a state of considerable perturbation. She was a great stickler for proprieties--hated every thing in the world that made a noise--liked a small lion, it is true but had a great aversion to a bear, even if, like a late learned Grecian, it affected to be a lion solely on the strength of being a wild beast--and, finally, she did not at all approve of personages who were in any way doubtful. All this operated strongly upon the prudential organs of her cerebral development, and would have induced her to stay at home quietly, and watch the course of events in regard to the Delaware family, had not the goodness of heart we have spoken of, and the rectitude of judgment which established Captain Delaware's innocence in her mind beyond all manner of doubt, both pressed her strongly forward to show countenance and kindness to the ruined family in their distress.
There was a considerable struggle for it, however, in her own mind; but, nevertheless, at ten o'clock, she again declared that it was all nonsense together, and ordered the chariot as soon as possible.
By this time her resolution was taken; and stepping lightly in, she ordered the coachman to drive to Emberton Park.
It is not impossible that on her arrival she might have been denied admittance--for just inasmuch as one never knows all the coldness of the general world till one tries it, one does not know the kindness of the exceptions either--but, without any questions, she walked out of the carriage, and, tripping across the hall with a step a good deal too juvenile, she entered the library unannounced.
Sir Sidney bowed with stately formality; but Blanche, who understood the whole business better, exclaimed, while the bright tears rose in her eyes, "Oh, Mrs. Darlington, this is very kind of you, indeed!"
"Not at all, my dear Blanche! not at all!" replied Mrs. Darlington, in her usual quick, but little-meaning manner. "Where is your brother I am resolved to see him, and tell him how foolish I think all the magistrates of the county have grown together. Beg your pardon, Dr. Wilton; but it is true, indeed!"
"You can not see him, madam, I am afraid," replied Dr. Wilton, gravely; "for he has made his escape from confinement."
"Oh, dear! I am very glad to hear it," she replied. "You surely would not have had him stay in a nasty, filthy prison for two or three weeks, because a great rogue chose to accuse him of a crime nobody believes he committed? I am very glad to hear it, indeed!"
The good lady then paused for a moment; and perceiving that, although her avowal of disbelief in regard to Captain Delaware's guilt had been not a little pleasing to his father, Sir Sidney still remained sad and depressed, she turned to him, kindly saying, "Come, come, Sir Sidney, I will not have you look so gloomy. You are as careworn as if your son were really guilty; and as we all know very well that he is not, you should make yourself quite sure that he will easily be able to cause his innocence to appear. But I have laid out a little scheme for you and Blanche. I have nobody staying with me in my new house, and the place is quite quiet. You will do nothing here but grow dull and melancholy, and I will have you get into the chariot with me, and come away and spend a week or two till all this is settled."
Although Sir Sidney Delaware felt that the invitation was most kind, and in his own dwelling experienced that sickening disgust which one feels toward all once-loved things, when some fatal change has poisoned them with bitter associations, yet he declined Mrs. Darlington's offer on his own part, though he much pressed his daughter to accept it. Blanche, however, refused to leave her father; and the matter would have ended thus, had not Mrs. Darlington discovered that one great motive in Sit Sidney's desire to remain at his own dwelling, at least for that night, was to hear the first news brought by the messengers dispatched to intercept his son.
As soon as she found how much weight this had upon him, she proposed to go forward with Dr. Wilton to Emberton, and there hear all that had been done in her own business: after which, she said, she would return at six o'clock for Sir Sidney and his daughter, who must have received tidings from the three county towns to which officers had been dispatched.
Some slight difficulties having been discussed and overcome, this plan was agreed to. Mrs. Darlington and Dr. Wilton departed; and the fact that Mrs. Darlington had visited the ruined family at Emberton having been ascertained by the appearance of her carriage rolling down the avenue from the house, threw the town into a state of agitation which might have afforded matter of envy to the arch-agitator himself.
In the mean while, the various messengers charged with the warrants against Captain William Delaware, proceeded toward their destinations. It may be only necessary to follow one of them, however; as all the rest, being sent in various wrong directions, might have gone onward in a direct line till they met at the antipodes, without setting eyes upon William Delaware. The one, then, who was directed to ride with all speed to the seaport town of ----, and having got his warrant backed by the proper authorities, to search for and take the person of the accused, arrived in that place at about two o'clock of the afternoon; and, finding that no less than five foreign vessels had sailed that day at high water, which took place at eight of the clock, he proceeded as he had been directed, to inquire at the offices of all the foreign vice-consuls what passports had been granted during the morning.
The consuls and their clerks were as civil as possible, and the names and descriptions were read over to him; but the poor man might as well have been in Babel, such a confused multitude of unchristianlike Christian names were pronounced in his ears. His next attempt was at the descriptions; but he found that, during that one morning, people of all colors and complexions, of all ages and sizes, of all features and professions, had sailed for foreign parts, or obtained their passports, which was quite as good; and therefore, bewildered and in despair, he gave up the search; and, having committed his charge to the constables of the place, once more mounted and returned to Emberton.
These tidings were balm to the hearts of Sir Sidney and Blanche Delaware, but were not quite so pleasing to the people of Emberton, who next to a murder enjoyed a hanging--which, indeed, is generally much the same thing. Another messenger, however, arrived about the same time, who brought news which somewhat diverted their attention. This was the mast who had been sent the day before to London, by Dr. Wilton, in search of Mr. Beauchamp, and who was a shrewd, intelligent fellow, not likely to miss the track of any one he sought for. But the tidings he brought back imported, that Mr. Beauchamp had never reached his house in town; and that, along the whole line of road, no person resembling him had either fed a horse, taken a post-chaise, mounted a stage, or entered an inn for the last four days.
Every one opened their eyes; and the people of Emberton all went to bed with the consolatory reflection that Mr. Beauchamp, or rather Mr. Burrel, as they termed him, must undoubtedly have been murdered also. Dr. Wilton was himself uneasy. Sir Sidney Delaware said that the absence of Henry Beauchamp was most unfortunate on many accounts; but Blanche turned deadly pale when she heard the tidings, and the vague apprehensions by which they were accompanied; and it would require no great skill in the book of the human heart to read the silent commentary that went on in her own bosom, on the unexplained absence of one she dearly loved.