The Black Robe. Wilkie Collins
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Название: The Black Robe
Автор: Wilkie Collins
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 9783849658441
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“Upon this, he spoke. I need hardly recall to your memory how careful we were, in first planning the attempt to recover the Vange property, to assure ourselves of the promise of success which the peculiar character of the present owner held out to us. In reporting what Penrose said, I communicate a discovery, which I venture to think will be as welcome to you, as it was to me.
“He began by reminding me of what I had myself told him in speaking of Romayne. ‘You mentioned having heard from Lord Loring of a great sorrow or remorse from which he was suffering,’ Penrose said. ‘I know what he suffers and why he suffers, and with what noble resignation he submits to his affliction. We were sitting together at the table, looking over his notes and memoranda, when he suddenly dropped the manuscript from which he was reading to me. A ghastly paleness overspread his face. He started up, and put both his hands to his ears as if he heard something dreadful, and was trying to deafen himself to it. I ran to the door to call for help. He stopped me; he spoke in faint, gasping tones, forbidding me to call any one in to witness what he suffered. It was not the first time, he said; it would soon be over. If I had not courage to remain with him I could go, and return when he was himself again. I so pitied him that I found the courage to remain. When it was over he took me by the hand, and thanked me. I had stayed by him like a friend, he said, and like a friend he would treat me. Sooner or later (those were his exact words) I must be taken into his confidence—and it should be now. He told me his melancholy story. I implore you, Father, don’t ask me to repeat it! Be content if I tell you the effect of it on myself. The one hope, the one consolation for him, is in our holy religion. With all my heart I devote myself to his conversion—and, in my inmost soul, I feel the conviction that I shall succeed!’
“To this effect, and in this tone, Penrose spoke. I abstained from pressing him to reveal Romayne’s confession. The confession is of no consequence to us. You know how the moral force of Arthur’s earnestness and enthusiasm fortifies his otherwise weak character. I, too, believe he will succeed.
“To turn for a moment to another subject. You are already informed that there is a woman in our way. I have my own idea of the right method of dealing with this obstacle when it shows itself more plainly. For the present, I need only assure you that neither this woman nor any woman shall succeed in her designs on Romayne, if I can prevent it.”
Having completed his report in these terms, Father Benwell reverted to the consideration of his proposed inquiries into the past history of Stella’s life.
Reflection convinced him that it would be unwise to attempt, no matter how guardedly, to obtain the necessary information from Lord Loring or his wife. If he assumed, at his age, to take a strong interest in a Protestant young lady, who had notoriously avoided him, they would certainly feel surprise—and surprise might, in due course of development, turn to suspicion.
There was but one other person under Lord Loring’s roof to whom he could address himself—and that person was the housekeeper. As an old servant, possessing Lady Loring’s confidence, she might prove a source of information on the subject of Lady Loring’s fair friend; and, as a good Catholic, she would feel flattered by the notice of the spiritual director of the household.
“It may not be amiss,” thought Father Benwell, “if I try the housekeeper.”
CHAPTER VI. THE ORDER OF THE DISHES.
WHEN Miss Notman assumed the post of housekeeper in Lady Loring’s service, she was accurately described as “a competent and respectable person”; and was praised, with perfect truth, for her incorruptible devotion to the interests of her employers. On its weaker side, her character was represented by the wearing of a youthful wig, and the erroneous conviction that she still possessed a fine figure. The ruling idea in her narrow little mind was the idea of her own dignity. Any offense offered in this direction oppressed her memory for days together, and found its way outward in speech to any human being whose attention she could secure.
At five o’clock, on the day which followed his introduction to Romayne, Father Benwell sat drinking his coffee in the housekeeper’s room—to all appearance as much at his ease as if he had known Miss Notman from the remote days of her childhood. A new contribution to the housekeeper’s little library of devotional works lay on the table; and bore silent witness to the means by which he had made those first advances which had won him his present position. Miss Notman’s sense of dignity was doubly flattered. She had a priest for her guest, and a new book with the reverend gentleman’s autograph inscribed on the title-page.
“Is your coffee to your liking, Father?”
“A little more sugar, if you please.”
Miss Notman was proud of her hand, viewed as one of the meritorious details of her figure. She took up the sugar-tongs with suavity and grace; she dropped the sugar into the cup with a youthful pleasure in ministering to the minor desires of her illustrious guest. “It is so good of you, Father, to honor me in this way,” she said—with the appearance of sixteen super-induced upon the reality of sixty.
Father Benwell was an adept at moral disguises of all kinds. On this occasion he wore the disguise of pastoral simplicity. “I am an idle old man at this hour of the afternoon,” he said. “I hope I am not keeping you from any household duties?”
“I generally enjoy my duties,” Miss Notman answered. “To-day, they have not been so agreeable as usual; it is a relief to me to have done with them. Even my humble position has its trials.”
Persons acquainted with Miss Notman’s character, hearing these last words, would have at once changed the subject. When she spoke of “her humble position,” she invariably referred to some offense offered to her dignity, and she was invariably ready to state the grievance at full length. Ignorant of this peculiarity, Father Benwell committed a fatal error. He inquired, with courteous interest, what the housekeeper’s “trials” might be.
“Oh, sir, they are beneath your notice!” said Miss Notman modestly. “At the same time, I should feel it an honor to have the benefit of your opinion—I should so like to know that you do not altogether disapprove of my conduct, under some provocation. You see, Father, the whole responsibility of ordering the dinners falls on me. And, when there is company, as there is this evening, the responsibility is particularly trying to a timid person like myself.”
“A large dinner party, Miss Notman?”
“Oh, dear, no! Quite the reverse. Only one gentleman—Mr. Romayne.”
Father Benwell set down his cup of coffee, half way to his lips. He at once drew the correct conclusion that the invitation to Romayne must have been given and accepted after he had left the picture gallery. That the object was to bring Romayne and Stella together, under circumstances which would rapidly improve their acquaintance, was as plain to him as if he had heard it confessed in so many words. If he had only remained in the gallery, he might have become acquainted with the form of persuasion used to induce a man so unsocial as Romayne to accept an invitation. “I have myself to blame,” he thought bitterly, “for being left in the dark.”
“Anything wrong with the coffee?” Miss Notman asked anxiously.
He rushed on his fate. He said, “Nothing whatever. Pray go on.”
Miss Notman went on.
“You see, Father, Lady Loring was СКАЧАТЬ