I need not follow in detail the progress of the new scheme of double elopement. Suffice it to say that the bogus correspondence destined to mislead Miss Marrable, was steadily kept up; that Amy and Vivian found other means of safely communicating with one another; that the Browns were written to; that the licenses were obtained; that three carriages-and-pairs were engaged, one to call at the hotel at nine o’clock P.M., and two at half-past; that coachmen were liberally feed; and finally, that the billiard-marker at the Cors-y-Gedol, a spruce young fellow of some education, was bribed, at considerable cost, to personate Vivian Jellicoe and to run away with Miss Marrable.
At length, Wednesday morning arrived; and with it came the last of the billet-doux that were to fall into the cunning spinster’s hands. One of them had been composed by Vivian and Robert, and written by the former on pink paper, folded billet-doux-wise. It ran as follows:
My own Amy—I have satisfactorily arranged everything. The carriage will be at the door of the hotel at nine o’clock. I shall not show myself, for your aunt may be about. Be careful, therefore, to avoid her; and enter the carriage as quickly as possible. In order that there may be no mistake, I have told the driver to wear a white choker round his neck. I hope that you will be punctual. Everything depends upon punctuality. Till nine o’clock, good-bye.—Your most devoted
Vivian.
Miss Marrable, after reading this note, refolded it as usual, and took care that it reached Amy. Then, with the consciousness that she was about to perpetrate a great and good action, she sat down in her own room, and waited for Amy’s reply to be brought to her by the treacherous maid. The note, which was very brief, came to Miss Marrable in less than half an hour. ‘Dear Viv,’ wrote Amy, ‘I will be ready, and will look out for the white choker.—Your loving A.’
In spite of the ordeal which was before her, the good old spinster was perfectly calm and unflurried. At one o’clock she made a very hearty luncheon; at half-past two she took her nieces for a walk, and talked to them with extraordinary affability about the emancipation of women; and at half-past six she appeared at the table d’hôte, and, just as if the occasion were an ordinary one, complained of the soup being too peppery, the fish too cold, and the mutton too underdone. Her coolness was admirable. Lucy and Amy, on the other hand, could scarcely conceal their excitement and agitation. They each looked at least a hundred times during dinner at the clock upon the mantel-piece; and they each started and turned red whenever the noise of carriage-wheels without was heard. After dinner, Miss Marrable went again to her room and began to make her preparations.
‘How sad it will be,’ she thought to herself, ‘for poor young Jellicoe when I discover myself and overwhelm him with reproaches. Men are but poor creatures. Perhaps he will faint. Yes; I will take my salts-bottle.’ She wrapped herself in an ulster belonging to Amy, and having shrouded her face in a thick veil, took a seat at her window, which happened to be immediately above the front-door of the hotel.
Meantime, Edward Griffiths the billiard-marker was ill at ease. He knew Miss Marrable by sight, and looked forward with terror to the prospect of an encounter with her at close quarters. Nevertheless, he had Vivian Jellicoe’s five-pound note in his pocket, and he was determined to see the affair bravely through. He felt, however, that his natural bravery would not be sufficient to support him; and he therefore, at about six o’clock, began to swallow a succession of potent doses of whisky-and-water, with the object of laying in a stock of Dutch courage. Whether the whisky was bad or the water was too powerful, I cannot say; but at ten minutes to nine, when Vivian Jellicoe arrived to give final directions and counsel to his substitute, he found Edward Griffiths decidedly the worse for liquor. Fortunately the young fellow was neither quarrelsome nor noisy in his cups. His main ambition seemed to be to go to sleep in peace; and no sooner had Vivian bundled him into one corner of the carriage, which was in waiting in the stable-yard, than Mr Griffiths incontinently slumbered. The carriage was then driven round to the front-door of the hotel. Miss Marrable, from her post of vantage, saw it, and, remarking that the coachman wore a white choker, descended at once, and listened, as she went, outside Amy’s room, to satisfy herself that that young lady had not forestalled her. The porter with alacrity opened the carriage-door. In the dark shadows of the interior, Miss Marrable caught sight of the figure of a man; and making sure that all was right, she entered at once. An instant later she was being whirled northward along the lonely Harlech Road.
Half an hour afterwards, two other carriages left the hotel, but in the opposite direction. In one of them were Lucy and Mr Rhodes; and in the other, Amy and Mr Jellicoe. It was nearly midnight ere they arrived at the Browns’ house at Llanyltid; but the Browns were all up and waiting for them, and the two runaway couples were warmly welcomed, and hospitably taken care of.
Miss Marrable was less fortunate. As soon as the carriage in which she sat had been driven beyond the lights of the town, she threw aside her veil, and gazed with magnificent scorn towards the dim form upon the seat in front of her. The look eliciting no response of any kind, Miss Marrable ventured to cough, at first gently, and then with considerable violence; but still the figure took no notice.