The Tenants of Malory. Volume 3. Le Fanu Joseph Sheridan

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СКАЧАТЬ light of the candles. "You don't mean to say the ball has been going on till now – or is it a scrape?"

      "Nothing – only this I've been commissioned to give you," and he placed Miss Sheckleton's note in his hand.

      Cleve had looked wofully haggard and anxious as Tom entered. But his countenance changed now to an ashy paleness, and there was no mistaking his extreme agitation.

      He opened the note – a very brief one it seemed – and read it.

      "Thank God!" he said with a great sigh, and then he walked to the window and looked out, and returned again to the candles and read the note once more.

      "How did you know I was up, Tom?"

      "The lights in the windows."

      "Yes. Don't let the cab go."

      Cleve was getting on his coat, and speaking like a man in a dream.

      "I say, Tom Sedley, how did you come by this note?" he said, with a sudden pause, and holding Miss Sheckleton's note in his fingers.

      "Well, quite innocently," hesitated Sedley.

      "How the devil was it, sir? Come, you may as well – by heaven, Sedley, you shall tell me the truth!"

      Tom looked on his friend Cleve, and saw his eyes gleaming sharply on him, and his face very white.

      "Of course I'll tell you, Cleve," said Tom, and with this exordium he stumbled honestly through his story, which by no means quieted Cleve Verney.

      "You d – d little Paul Pry!" said he. "Well, you have got hold of a secret now, like the man in the iron mask, and by – you had better keep it."

      A man who half blames himself already, and is in a position which he hates and condemns, will stand a great deal more of hard language, and even of execration, than he would under any other imaginable circumstances.

      "You can't blame me half as much as I do myself. I assure you, Cleve, I'm awfully sorry. It was the merest lark – at first – and then – when I saw that beautiful – that young lady – "

      "Don't talk of that lady any more; I'm her husband. There, you have it all, and if you whisper it to mortal you may ruin me; but one or other of us shall die for it!"

      Cleve was talking in a state of positive exasperation.

      "Whisper it! – tell it! You don't in the least understand me, Cleve," said Tom, collecting himself, and growing a little lofty; "I don't whisper or tell things; and as for daring or not daring, I don't know what you mean; and I hope, if occasion for dying came, I should funk it as little as any other fellow."

      "I'm going to this d – d place now. I don't much care what you do: I almost wish you'd shoot me."

      He struck his hand on the table, looking not at Tom Sedley, but with a haggard rage through the window, and away toward the gray east; and without another word to Sedley, he ran down, shutting the hall-door with a crash that showed more of his temper than of his prudence, and Tom saw him jump into the cab and drive away.

      The distance is really considerable, but in Cleve's intense reverie time and space contracted, and before he fancied they had accomplished half the way, he found himself at the tall door and stained pilasters and steps of the old red-brick house.

      Anne Evans, half awake, awaited his arrival on the steps. He ran lightly up the stairs, under her covert scrutiny; and, in obedience to Mrs. Graver's gesture of warning, as she met him with raised hand and her frowning "Hish" at the head of the stairs, he checked his pace, and in a whisper he made his eager inquiries. She was going on very nicely.

      "I must see Miss Sheckleton – the old lady – where is she?" urged Cleve.

      "Here, sir, please" – and Mrs. Graver opened a door, and he found tired Miss Sheckleton tying on her bonnet, and getting her cloak about her.

      "Oh! Cleve, dear" – she called him "Cleve" now – "I'm so delighted; she's doing very well; the doctor's quite pleased with her, and it's a boy, Cleve, and – and I wish you joy with all my heart."

      And as she spoke, the kind old lady was shaking both his hands, and smiling up into his handsome face, like sunshine; but that handsome face, though it smiled down darkly upon her, was, it seemed to her, strangely joyless, and even troubled.

      "And Cleve, dear, my dear Mr. Verney – I'm so sorry; but I must go immediately. I make his chocolate in the morning, and he sometimes calls for it at half-past seven. This miserable attack that has kept him here, and the risk in which he is at every day he stays in this town, it is so distracting. And if I should not be at home and ready to see him when he calls, he'd be sure to suspect something; and I really see nothing but ruin from his temper and violence to all of us, if he were to find out how it is. So good-bye, and God bless you. The doctor says he thinks you may see her in a very little time – half an hour or so – if you are very careful not to let her excite or agitate herself; and – God bless you – I shall be back, for a little, in an hour or two."

      So that kindly, fluttered, troubled, and happy old lady disappeared; and Cleve was left again to his meditations.

      "Where's the doctor?" asked Cleve of the servant.

      "In the sitting-room, please, sir, writing; his carriage is come, sir, please."

      And thus saying, Mistress Anne Evans officiously opened the door, and Cleve entered. The doctor, having written a prescription, and just laid down his pen, was pulling on his glove.

      Cleve had no idea that he was to see Doctor Grimshaw. Quite another physician, with whom he had no acquaintance, had been agreed upon between him and Miss Sheckleton. As it turned out, however, that gentleman was now away upon an interesting visit, at a country mansion, and Doctor Grimshaw was thus unexpectedly summoned.

      Cleve was unpleasantly surprised, for he had already an acquaintance with that good man, which he fancied was not recorded in his recollection to his credit. I think if the doctor's eye had not been directed toward the door when he entered, that Cleve Verney would have drawn back; but that would not do now.

      "Doctor Grimshaw?" said Cleve.

      "Yes, sir;" said the old gentleman.

      "I think, Doctor Grimshaw, you know me?"

      "Oh, yes, sir; of course I do;" said the Doctor, with an uncomfortable smile, ever so little bitter, and a slight bow, "Mr. Verney, yes." And the doctor paused, looking toward him, pulling on his other glove, and expecting a question.

      "Your patient, Doctor Grimshaw, doing very well, I'm told?"

      "Nicely, sir – very nicely now. I was a little uncomfortable about her just at one time, but doing very well now; and it's a boy – a fine child. Good morning, sir."

      He had taken up his hat.

      "And Doctor Grimshaw, just one word. May I beg, as a matter of professional honour, that this – all this, shall be held as strictly secret– everything connected with it as strictly confidential?"

      The doctor looked down on the carpet with a pained countenance. "Certainly, sir," he said, drily. "That's all, I suppose? Of course, Mr. Verney, I shan't – since such I suppose to be the wish of all parties – mention the case."

      "Of СКАЧАТЬ