Edina: A Novel

by Mrs. Henry Wood

"It must have been rather a sudden thought of Mrs. St. Clare's, this going from home: was it not?"

"Quite so, sir. It was Miss Lydia who started it, while the ladies were sitting in the drawing-room yesterday afternoon. Tabitha never heard a word about packing up, sir, till she was at her tea."

Frank looked at his watch. There might still be time to catch his train if he started at once for the station. He set out; and just accomplished it. But that he did so was owing to the fact that the train, as usual, came up considerably behind its time.

It is a great deal easier in this world to raise a storm than to allay one: and so Mr. Blase Pellet found to his cost. He had thoroughly aroused the public mind on the subject of the missing miner; and the public mind refused to be calmed again.

Day by day, since the discovery in the register, did the astounding news of Frank's private marriage make a deeper impression upon Blase Pellet. He saw things now with very different eyes from what he had formerly seen them. He told himself that Rosaline's version of her intimacy with Mr. Raynor—namely, that it bore no particular intimacy, and had nothing hidden beneath its surface—was the truth. The relief to himself was wonderfully great. All his love for her, that he had been angrily trying to repress, increased tenfold: and he began to see that the love might indeed go on to fruition. At least, that if it did not do so, the fault would lie in his own insensate folly. If he could only stop this commotion about Bell, so that the man might rest where he was, undiscovered, he should make his way with Rosaline. But the public seemed anything but inclined to let it stop there: and Blase Pellet gave many a hard word to the said public. Just at present Trennach appeared to have nothing to do but to go about suggesting disagreeable surmises.

One story led to a second; one supposition to another. From the first startling rumour, that Bell might be lying at the bottom of the shaft (as shown to Mr. Pellet in a remarkable dream), Trennach passed on to believing that he was there; and, next, to say that he must be searched for.

In vain Blase Pellet, mortified, agitated, and repentant, sought to prove that Bell was not there; that no foundation could exist for the notion; that he was now fully convinced his dream had not been a dream at all, but the baseless fabric of a fancy. Trennach did not listen to him. Excitement had gone too far for that. It was just possible, of course, that poor Bell might not be in the pit; but they thought he was there; and, at any rate, they meant to see for themselves. As simple-minded, well-meaning Andrew Float expressed it: "Dreams didna come for nought." Blase Pellet could have bitten out his false tongue. How easy the future would now have seemed but for this storm! Frank Raynor removed from his path by marriage, his own success with Rosaline could only be a question of time: but if this stir, which he had invoked, could not be stilled, and it went on to any discovery, Rosaline would probably make it an excuse for throwing him off for ever. That it would in any case grieve and anger her frightfully, and that she would detect the falsity of his "dream," he knew by instinct; and Blase felt tempted to wish he had been born dumb.

When we go out of our way to delude the world from interested motives, and do it, moreover, by a lie, the chances are that the step recoils unpleasantly upon us. In some way or other we are repaid in our own coin. It may not be immediately; it may not be for years to come; but rely upon it, it does come home to us sooner or later. We see the blind folly we were guilty of: not to speak of the sin: and we cry out in our flood-tide of repentance, Oh, that I had not quitted the straightforward path! As Blase Pellet was crying now.

The owner of the land, one of those mine-owners whose wealth is fabulous, became interested in the case. He came forward, and gave orders that the pit should be examined, to ascertain whether or not the missing man was there. The necessary machinery was soon brought into requisition—where wealth commands, difficulties are lightened—and the Bottomless Shaft was searched.

Yes. Josiah Bell was brought up to the surface. His attire was recognized as that which he had worn the day of his disappearance: and there remained no doubt that he had met his death that same night by falling down the pit.