CHAPTER XX."A GREAT BATTLE."
"But 'twas a famous victory."
"But 'twas a famous victory."
"But 'twas a famous victory."
"But 'twas a famous victory."
"But 'twas a famous victory."
Southey.
Itis perhaps needless to mention that Mrs. Creery made it her business, and considered it her duty, to circulate the intelligence that she had received about Mr. Lisle without unnecessary delay. She read portions of the letter referring to him, in "strict confidence," to every one she could get hold of, and the missive was nearly worn out from constant folding and unfolding. If any one ventured to impugn her testimony, she would lay her hand upon her pocket with a dramatic gesture, and say,—
"That's nonsense! I've got it all here in black and white. I always knew that there was a screw loose about that man. Perhaps you will all be guided bymeanother time! I'm an excellent judge of character, as my sister, Lady Grubb, declares. She always says, 'You cannot go far wrong if you listen to Eliza'—that's me," pointing to her breast bone with a plump forefinger. Then she would produce the billet and, after much clearing of throat, commence to read what she already knew by heart.
"'You ask me if I can tell you anything about a Mr. Lisle, a mysterious person who has lately come to the Andamans; very dark, age over thirty, slight in figure, shabby and idle, close about himself, and with a curious, deliberate way of speaking; supposed to have been in the army, and to have come from Bengal. Christian name unknown, initial letter G.'"
(It sounded exactly like a description in a police notice.)
"'My dear Mrs. Creery, I know him well, and he may well be close abouthimself and his affairs'"—here it was Mrs. Creery's cue to pause and smack her lips with unction. "'If he is the person you so accurately describe, he is a Captain Lisle, a black sheep who was turned out of a regiment in Bengal on account of some very shady transactions on the turf.'"—"He told me himself he was fond of riding," Mrs. Creery would supplement, as if this fact clenched the business. "'He was bankrupt, and had a fearful notoriety in every way. No woman who respected herself would be seen speaking to him! The Andamans, no doubt, suit him very well at present, and offer him a new field for his energies, and a harbour of refuge at the same time. Do not let any one cash a cheque for him, and warn all the young ladies in the settlement that he is amarriedman!'"
"There," Mrs. Creery would conclude, with a toss of her topee, "what do you think of that?"
"Mr. Lisle is not here to speak for himself," ventured Helen on one occasion. "Les absents ont toujours tort."
It was new to see Helen adopt an insurrectionary attitude. Mrs. Creery stared.
"Nonsense—stuff and nonsense," angrily. "And let me tell you, Helen Denis, that it is not at all maidenly or modest for a young girl like you to be taking up the cudgels for a notorious reprobate like this Lisle."
"I'm sure he is not a reprobate, and I'm certain you are mistaken," rejoined Helen bravely.
Here the elder lady flamed out, and thumped her umbrella violently on the ground, and cried in her highest key,—
"Then why did he go away? He knew that I had heard about him, for I told him so to his face. I never say behind a person's back what I won't say to their face." (Oh! Mrs. Creery, Mrs. Creery!) "And it is a very remarkable coincidence, that in less than twelve hours, he was out of the place! How do you account for that, eh?"
She paused for breath, and once more proceeded triumphantly,—
"He will never show here again, believe me; and, after all, I am thankful to say he has done no great harm! As far asIknow he ranno bills in the bazaar, and certainly neither you nor Lizzie Caggett lost your hearts to him!"
Helen became very pale, her lips quivered, and she was unable to reply for a moment. Then she said,—
"At any rate, I believe in him, Mrs. Creery,—and always will; deeds are better than words. Have you forgotten the wreck?"
"Forgotten it?" she screamed. "Am I ever likely to get it out of my head? Only for my calling myself hoarse, you and Mr. Lisle would both have been murdered in that hole of a cabin! You know I told you not to go down, and you would, and see what you got by it."
There was not the slightest use in arguing with this lady, who not only imposed upon others, but also upon herself: she had a distorted mind, that idealized everything connected with her own actions, and deprecated, and belittled, the deeds of other people! The only persons who hadnotheard the horrible tale about Mr. Lisle were the Durands and the general; the latter was a singularly astute gentleman, and never lost a certain habit of cool military promptitude, even when in retreat. Each time Mrs. Creery had exhibited symptoms of extracting a letter from her pocket, he had escaped! The Durands were Mr. Lisle's friends,—a fact that lowered them many fathoms in Mrs. Creery's estimation, and were consequently the very last to hear of the scandal!
About a fortnight after the departure of theScotia, the general gave one of his usual large dinner-parties; every one in Ross was invited, and about twenty-four sat down to the table. When the meal was over, and the ladies had pulled a few crackers, and sipped their glass of claret, they all filed off into the drawing-room in answer to Mrs. Creery's rather dramatic signal, and there they looked over photographs, noted the alterations in each other's dresses, drank coffee, and conversed in groups. In due time the conversation turned upon that ever fertile topic, "Mr. Lisle," and Mrs. Graham, who was seated beside Mrs. Durand, little knowing what she was doing, fired the first shot, by regretting very much "that Mr. Lisle had turned out to be such a dreadful character, so utterly different from what he seemed." Encouraged by one or two cleverly-put questions from herneighbour, she unfolded the whole story. Meantime, Mrs. Durand sat and listened, in rigid silence, her lips pressed firmly together, her hands tightly locked in her pale-blue satin lap. When the recital had come to an end, she turned her grave eyes on her companion, and said in her most impressive manner,—
"Howdo you know this?"
"Oh, it's well known, it's all over the place. Mrs. Creery had a letter," glancing over to where that lady reclined in a comfortable chair, with a serene expression on her face, and a gently-nodding diadem.
"Mrs. Creery," said Mrs. Durand, raising her voice, which was singularly clear and penetrating, "pray what is this story that you have been telling every one about Mr. Lisle?"
This warlike invocation awoke the good lady from her doze, and, like a battle-steed, she lifted her head, and, as it were, sniffed the conflict from afar!
"I've been telling nothing but the truth, Mrs. Durand"—rousing herself at once to an upright position—"and you are most welcome tohearit, though heisa friend of yours," and she tossed her diadem as much as to say "Come on!"
"Thank you! Then will you be so very kind as to repeat what you have heard," returned Mrs. Durand with a freezing politeness that made the other ladies look at each other significantly. There was going to be a fight, and they felt a thrill of mingled delight and apprehension at the prospect.
Bold Mrs. Durand was the only woman in the island who had never veiled her crest to Mrs. Creery. She was now about to challenge her to single combat—yes, they all saw it in her face!
"I always knew that there was something very wrong about that man," began the elder lady in her usual formula, and figuratively placing her lance in rest. "People who have nothing to hide, are never ashamed to speak of their concerns, but no one ever got a word out of Mr. Lisle, and I am sure he received every encouragement to be open! He was in the army, he admittedthatagainst his will, and that was all. He neverdeceivedme;—I knew he was without any resources, I—knew he was out at elbows, I knew——"
"Pray spare us your opinion, and tell us whatfactsyou have to go upon," interrupted Mrs. Durand, calmly cutting short this flow of denunciation.
"I have a letter from a friend at Simla," unconsciously seeking her pocket, "a letter," she retorted proudly, "which you canread, saying that he was cashiered for conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman, that he is a bankrupt, and a swindler, and a married man," as if this last enormity crowned all.
"It is not true—not a word of it!" replied Mrs. Durand, as coolly as if she were merely saying, "How do you do?"
"Not true! nonsense; is he not dark, aged over thirty, name Lisle? did he not hang about the settlement for six months living on his wits? Of course it is true," rejoined the elder lady, with an air that proclaimed that she had not merely crushed, but pulverized, her foe!
"Lisle is not an uncommon name, and I know that my friend is not the original of your flattering little sketch."
"But I tell you that heis! I can prove it; I have it all in black and white!" cried Mrs. Creery furiously—her temper had now gone by the board. Who was this Mrs. Durand that she should dare to contradict her? She saw that they were face to face in the lists, and that the other ladies were eager spectators of the tourney; it was not merely a dispute over Mr. Lisle, it was a struggle for the social throne, whoever conquered now would be mistress of the realm. This woman must be browbeaten, silenced, and figuratively slain!
"I have it all in writing, and pray what canyoubring against that?" she demanded imperiously.
"Simply my word, which I hope will stand good," returned the other firmly.
Mrs. Creery laughed derisively, and tossed her head and then replied,—
"Words go for nothing!"
This was rude—it was more than rude, it was insulting!
"Am I to understand that you do not believe mine?" said Mrs. Durand,making a noble effort to keep her temper.
"Oh," ignoring the question, "I have never doubted thatyoucould tell us more about Mr. Lisle than most people, and a woman will say anything for a man—a man who is a friend," returned the other lady with terrible significance.
This was hard-hitting with a vengeance, still Mrs. Durand never quailed.
"Shall I tell you who Mr. Lisle really is? I did not intend to mention it, as he begged me to be silent."
(Here Mrs. Creery's smile was really worth going a quarter of a mile to see.)
"I have known him for many years; he is an old friend of mine, and of my brothers."
"Oh, of your brothers!" interrupted her antagonist, looking up at the ceiling with a derisive laugh and an adequate expression of incredulity.
"I am not specially addressing myself toyou, Mrs. Creery," exclaimed Mrs. Durand at white heat, but still retaining wonderful command of her temper. "My brothers were at Eton with him," she continued, looking towards her other listeners. "He is the second son of Lord Lingard and the Honourable Gilbert Lisle."
A silence ensued, during which you might have heard a pin drop; Mrs. Creery's face became of a dull beetroot colour, and her eyes looked as if they were about to take leave of their sockets.
"And what brought him masquerading here?" she panted forth at last.
"He was not masquerading, he came in his own name," returned Mrs. Durand with calm decision. "He left the service on coming in for a large property, and spends most of his time travelling about; he is fond"—addressing herself specially to the other ladies, and rather wondering at Helen Denis's scarlet cheeks—"of exploring out-of-the-way places. I believe he has been to Siberia and Central America. The Andamans were a novelty; he came for a few weeks and stayed for a few months because he liked the fishing and boating and the unconventional life."
"And who is the other Lisle?"
"Some distant connection, I believe; every family has its black sheep."
"Why did he not let us know his position?" gasped Mrs. Creery.
"Because he thinks it of so little importance; he wished, I conclude, to stand on his own merits, and to be valued for himself alone. He found his proper level here, did he not, Mrs. Creery? He lived in the palace of truth for once!" and she laughed significantly—undoubtedly turn-about is fair play, it was her turn now.
"I must say that I wonder what he saw in the Andamans," exclaimed Mrs. Graham at last.
"One attraction, no doubt, was, because he could go away whenever he liked; another, that he was left to himself—no one ran after him!" and Mrs. Durand laughed again. "In London he is made so much of, as every one knows he is wealthy and a bachelor, and that his eldest brother has only one lung! Besides all these advantages, he is extremely popular, and is beset by invitations to shoot, to dance, to dine, to yacht, from year's end to year's end. Well, he got a complete holiday from all that kind of thinghere!"
Then she recollected that in castigating Mrs. Creery and Miss Caggett she was including totally innocent people—people who had always been civil to the Honourable Gilbert Lisle, such as Mrs. Graham, Mrs. Home, Miss Denis, and others, and she added,—
"All the same, I should tell you that he enjoyed his stay here immensely, he told me so, and that he would always have a kindly recollection of Port Blair, and of the friends he had made in the settlement."
(Mrs. Durand, thought Helen, does not know everything; she evidently is not aware that he is coming back.) The speaker paused at the word settlement, for she had made the discovery that most of the gentlemen had entered and were standing in the background while she had been, as it were, addressing the house. A general impression had been gathered about Mr. Lisle also, as Captain Rodney whispered to Dr. Malone, that "Mrs. Creery had evidently had what she would be all the better for,viz., a rare good setting down."
Infatuated Mrs. Creery! deposed, and humbled potentate, if there was one thing that was even nearer to her heart than Nip, it was the owner of atitle.
She could hardly grasp any tangible idea just at present, she was so completely dazed. It was as if Mrs. Durand had let off a catherine-wheel in her face.
Mr. Lisle an Honourable! Mr. Lisle immensely rich! Mr. Lisle, whom she had offered to pay for his photographs, whom she had never met without severely snubbing. And all the time he was the son of a lord, and she had unconsciously lost a matchless opportunity of cementing a lifelong friendship with one of the aristocracy. Alas, for poor Mrs. Creery, her mind was chaos!
After the storm there ensued the proverbial calm; the piano was opened, and people tried to look at ease, and to pretend, forsooth, that they were not thinking of the recent grand engagement, but it was all a hollow sham.
Helen, if it had been in her power, would have endowed that brave woman, Mrs. Durand, with a Victoria Cross for valour, and, indeed, every lady present secretly offered her a personal meed of admiration and gratitude. She had slain their dragon, who would never more dare to rear her head and tyrannize over the present or vilify the absent. Surely there should be some kind of domestic decoration accorded to those who arm themselves with moral courage, and go forth and rescue the reputation of their friends.
Miss Caggett sat in the background, looking unusually grave and gloomy, no doubt thinking with remorseful stings ofherlost opportunities. Dr. Malone grinned and nodded, and rubbed his rather large bony hands ecstatically, and whispered to Captain Rodney that "hehad always had a notion that Lisle the photographer was a prince in disguise!"
As for Mrs. Creery, as before mentioned, that truculent lady was absolutely shattered; she resembled an ill constructed automaton who had been knocked down and then set up limply in a chair, or a woman in a dream—and that a bad one. After a while she spoke in a strangelysubdued voice, and said,—
"General, I don't feel very well; that coffee of yours has given me a terrible headache. If you will send for my jampan, I'll just go quietly home."
Thus she withdrew, with a pitiable remnant of her former dignity, her host escorting her politely to the entrance, and placing her in her chair with faint regrets. Every one knew perfectly well, that it wasnotthe General's coffee that had routed Mrs. Creery, it was she whose beautiful contralto was now filling the drawing-room as her late antagonist tottered down the steps—it was that valiant lady, Mrs. Durand!