CHAPTER XXIVAT BAY
Randolph Hay advanced to meet the violent intruder.
Gentleman Geff was still raging and threatening.
“How do you do, Mr. Geoffrey Delamere?” coolly inquired Ran, calling the man of many aliases by the name by which he had known him in California.
Gentleman Geff stopped suddenly and drew himself up with drunken arrogance.
In the quiet, low-voiced, well-dressed young gentleman who stood before him, with clear, pale complexion, neatly trimmed hair and mustache, who wore light kid gloves, and had a rosebud in his buttonhole, he did not recognize therough, rollicking, sunburned and shock-headed lad who had befriended him at Grizzly Gulch, and whom he himself had shot down, robbed and left for dead, to be devoured by wolves in the Black Woods of the gold State, and whose name and inheritance he had stolen.
“Who in thunder and lightning are you, you villain? And what the fire and brimstone are you doing here, in my house, you rascal?” he fiercely demanded, and without waiting for an answer he fell to cursing and swearing in the most furious manner, ending with: “If you don’t get out of this in double-quick I’ll have you kicked out of doors and into the horse pond, you scoundrel!”
“Perhaps if you give yourself the trouble to look up in my face you may recognize me, as well as my right to be here,” said Ran calmly.
Gentleman Geff stared.
“You should remember me. It has not been so long; only since the second of last April that we parted company in the Black Woods of California,” continued Ran.
Then the criminal’s face blanched, his jaw fell, his eyes started, he stared with growing horror for a moment, then reeled, and must have fallen but that he was caught in the strong arms of Longman, who supported him to a high-backed armchair and sat him down in it, where he seemed to fall into a state of stupefaction. The awful shock of this meeting had not sobered him—he was too far gone in drunkenness for that; but it had reduced him to a state of imbecility.
Meanwhile Mr. Cassius Leegh, who had been engaged outside doing all the duties of his patron, seeing to the luggage, paying off the carryall, and even taking care of his sister, now strutted into the room with the lady on his arm, his head thrown back, his nose in the air, and altogether with a fine manner of scorn.
He was not so drunk as his patron; he was only drunk enough to be a very great man, indeed; but not to be a very violent one.
“What is the meaning of this irregularity?” he loftily demanded. “We did not expect company!”
“We did,” said Ran with a touch of humor in his tone.
“Pray, who are you, sir?” demanded Leegh, throwing up his head.
“Ask your companion there,” replied Ran with a wave of his hand toward the panic-stricken object in the armchair.
“Hay!” exclaimed Leegh, turning to his patron. “What in the dev—what on earth does all this mean? Who are all these people?”
Gentleman Geff opened his mouth, gasped, rolled his eyes and sank into silence.
“Can’t you speak, man? What the dev—what is the matter with you? And what is all this infer—this confusion about?” angrily demanded Leegh.
Gentleman Geff gasped two or three times, rolled his eyes frightfully and replied:
“It is the day of judgment! And the dead—the murdered dead—have risen to bear witness against me!—have left their graves to cry ‘blood for blood’!” he shrieked; and then his eyes stared and became fixed, his jaw fell and his face blanched.
“Poor idiot!” exclaimed Mr. Leegh in extreme disgust. “I never saw his so drunk as this. If he goes it at this pace he will soon come to the end of life. I find I must take command here and clear the house. Have I your authority to act for you, sister?” he inquired in a whisper of the woman on his arm.
“Yes—yes,” she faltered faintly; “but take me first to a chair or sofa. I feel as if about to faint. Oh, what does is all mean?”
“It means that our friend here,” he replied, pointing to the collapsed criminal in the chair, “has delirium tremens. And ‘has ’em bad,’ as the old costermonger used to say of his cousin,” he added as he placed his sister in a large, cushioned armchair, into which she sank exhausted.
Then he glanced over the scene, taking stock of the company preparatory to his work of clearing the room.
Nearest to him, on his right hand, stood the young colossus, Samson Longman, leaning over the chair of poor old Dandy, who sat with his bald head dropped and his withered face hidden in the palms of his hands.
These two men were both strangers to Mr. Leegh, who did not feel inclined to commence his work of expulsion with the giant or his immediate protégé.
A little further off, on his left, stood a group of three—Ran, Mike and Will Walling—talking together. Thesewere also strangers to Mr. Leegh, who did not feel disposed to begin with them either.
Still further off, straight before him, at the other end of the room, was another group, each individual of which he recognized. These were the Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, and their daughter, Jennie, whom he had often visited at their parsonage in Medge; and to Mr. Campbell he had but lately written, as the reader may remember, warning him to leave the rectory, to which he himself—Leegh—had been appointed.
Here, then, was his opportunity. He would begin with these.
The rector—as we must call him now, since his induction into the Haymore living by Mr. Randolph Hay—was seated on a corner sofa with his wife and daughter, the latter sitting between her father and her mother, with her distressed face hidden in that mother’s bosom. Yet Leegh had instinctively recognized her as well as her parents.
He went up, nodded to Mr. Campbell and offered his hand.
The rector bowed in return, but did not take Leegh’s hand.
“I am surprised to see you here this evening, sir. How do you do, Mrs. Campbell? I hope Miss Jennie is quite well,” said Leegh in an offhand way, not choosing to notice the rector’s coolness, not knowing or suspecting that he was the rector.
“I am here at the invitation of Mr. Randolph Hay,” said Mr. Campbell.
“My daughter is quite well, thank you, Mr. Leegh,” said Mrs. Campbell.
Both the husband and the wife answering his careless greeting simultaneously.
“I am glad to hear of Miss Jennie’s good health. She is only tired, then, perhaps, or sleepy? Did you say you were here at the invitation of the squire, Mr. Campbell?”
“Yes, sir; of Mr. Randolph Hay,” calmly replied the rector.
“Then he must have been even drun—I mean, more incomprehensible than he is now. Pray, did he also invite all these other people I see here?”
“I think not. He did not invite you, or your sister, or Capt. Montgomery,” replied Mr. Campbell.
“Didn’t invite me or my sister! Why, my sister is his wife, man, and I am his brother-in-law! And he brought us down with him to-night.”
“I think not,” said the rector.
“You think not! Why, here we are, anyway. Here amI. There is my sister in that armchair, somewhat prostrated and disgusted, to be sure. And there is her husband on that high-back throne, somewhat ‘disguised,’ as one might say.”
“I think you are mistaken in all that you have said,” quietly remarked Mr. Campbell.
“I think that everybody in the room, except myself, is drunk or demented, or most likely both!” exclaimed Leegh, losing his temper and now speaking recklessly, for he was not yet quite sober.
Mr. Campbell made no reply to these words.
“Will you be good enough to explain yourself?” rudely demanded Leegh.
“I have no explanation to make about myself. For any other questions you would like to ask I must refer you to Mr. Randolph Hay himself.”
“He is in a fine condition to answer questions, is he not, now? Look at him!” said Leegh, pointing to the abject creature in the chair.
The rector looked and sighed to see the human wreck.
“Now, then, will you explain?”
“No; I must still refer you to Mr. Randolph Hay.”
“Confound your insolence!” between his grinding teeth. And then, aloud: “You got my letter, I presume?”
“Warning me to vacate the rectory?”
“Of course. What else should I have written to you about?”
“I got your letter.”
“Well, I hope you are ready to go. Because I shall certainly enter into possession on the first of January,” said Leegh rudely.
“The rectory is even now quite ready for the new incumbent.”
“I am glad to hear it, though I shall not care to take possession until the first of January. And now, Mr. Campbell, excuse me for reminding you that the hour is late, and suggestingthat, as this is the evening of Mr. and Mrs. Randolph Hay’s arrival, it would be in good form for visitors to retire.”
“Thank you: but I must speak to my host and hostess first.”
At this moment Judy came up from some obscure part of the big room in which she had been lurking like a frightened kitten.
Mr. Campbell made room for her, and Judy sat down beside her friends.
“Who is this young lady? Will you introduce me to her?” said Leegh with one of his lady-killing smiles.
“Excuse me, sir. I would rather not do so,” said Mr. Campbell.
And then turning to Judy, who had looked up with surprise and pity, for she could not bear to see any one pained or mortified, he added in explanation:
“No, my dear; I cannot do it.”
Then, with a smothered imprecation, Leegh turned on his heel and sauntered down the room to rejoin his sister, and feeling as if he were in a very weird and ugly dream.
In the meanwhile, however, Ran, Mike and Will Walling had been taking counsel together, and often glancing from the stupefied figure of Gentleman Geff, who still sat with blanched face, dropped jaw and starting eyes, staring into vacancy, to that of Lamia Leegh, who reclined on her chair with closed eyes and in a half-fainting condition.
At length Ran from the pity of his heart said:
“Walling, I cannot bear to expose that poor woman to the awful humiliation of hearing the whole of that fellow’s villainies exposed. I will go into the library and persuade her poor father to receive her in there and save her from this trial. And do you go to her and break the news of Mr. Legg’s presence in the house. You need tell her no more as yet. The worst need not be told until later.”
“Very well, I will do as you say. There is her precious brother talking to Mr. Campbell. I wonder what he is saying,” said Will Walling as he went up and stood beside the chair of Lamia Leegh.
She never moved or opened her eyes. She did not seem to have perceived his presence. He wished to address her, but hardly knew what name to call her. If he should callher by her real name, or even by the name she bore in New York before her marriage, it would startle and offend her. It would seem a deliberate insult. If he should call her by Ran’s name it would be by a false one.
The last alternative, however, was the one on which he decided to act. It could do no harm, he thought, to humor her delusion by calling her by the name she honestly supposed to be hers by right of marriage.
He laid his hand lightly on the back of her chair, stooped, and said softly:
“Mrs. Hay!”
She started, opened her eyes, sat up and gazed at him.
“I have startled you. I am sorry,” he said.
“Mr. Walling! You here! In England! At Haymore!” she exclaimed, gazing at him as if she could not turn away her eyes.
“Yes, as you see!” he answered.
“And we did not know you were coming. At least, I did not. And, oh! what brought you here? I don’t mean to be rude, though the question seems a rude one.”
“It is a most natural one. I came—for a change,” replied Will Walling evasively.
“And when did you arrive?”
“In England? Tuesday.”
“And when did you come to Haymore?”
“Late last night.”
“You came straight here, then, expecting to find us at home, and found no one to receive you—except the servants, of course. I hope they made you comfortable. And, of course they told you that we were to be home to-night.”
“Yes, of course, thank you.”
“I am so glad you are here. And, oh, Mr. Walling, since you are here, will you please to tell me who all these strangers are and why they are here, and what, oh! what has reduced my husband to that condition? He looks as if he were struck with idiocy,” said Lamia with ill-concealed scorn and hatred.
Will Walling thought within himself that she would have little to suffer from wounded affections, whatever she might have to endure from humbled pride. Still, he pitied her, and answered gently:
“That group on the sofa, to whom your brother is speaking,consists of the Rev. Mr. Campbell, his wife and daughter, who are quite old friends of Mr. Leegh.”
Lamia had never heard the name of Jennie Montgomery’s parents. She scrutinized the group, and then remarked:
“That girl who is leaning on the elder woman’s shoulder reminds me strongly of some one whom I have seen somewhere, but I cannot remember where, for I cannot quite see her clearly at this distance. And who are the other people in the room?”
“They are all friends of Mr. Randolph Hay who knew him in California, before he came into his estate.”
“Oh, how interesting! And they came here to see him?”
“Yes, and to give him a reception in his own house,” said Will Walling, not quite truly.
“Oh, how interesting! And, Mr. Walling, who is that pretty young woman who has just gone up to the clergyman’s party?”
“Some friend of the family. Here comes your brother. He has just left the group. And before he comes, my dear Mrs. Hay, I must tell you that there are others, or rather, there is one other person in this house in whom you are more intimately interested than in all the rest,” said Will Walling very gravely.
Lamia looked a little disturbed.
“Who can that be?” she inquired in a low, faltering voice.
“Can you not surmise? Think what near relatives you have living.”
“I—have no near relatives living—except my brother, and—my father.”
“Your father is here, longing to see his only daughter.”
“My father here? What has he come for?” demanded this Goneril in so sharp a tone of displeasure and annoyance that Will Walling lost all pity for her and spoke near his purpose when he answered:
“He is waiting here in fatherly love and compassion, to be a shelter to his only daughter in the hour of her utmost need.”
Lamia turned deadly pale and sick. The words of the lawyer, taken together with the awful exclamation of her husband before he fell into his stupor, warned her that some terrible revelation was at hand.
“Oh! this is some horrid nightmare!” she muttered.
At this crisis the sauntering and unsteady steps of Mr. Leegh brought him up to his sister’s side.
“And now!” he exclaimed, “what is all this? And who the dev—deuce—mischief are you, sir?”
“Oh, Cassius!” cried Lamia in great excitement. “This is Mr. Walling, of the firm of Walling & Walling, New York, of whom you have heard us speak. There is something dreadful the matter that has gathered all these people here. He tells me that our father is here also——”
“The old man! What is the—what has brought him here?” demanded Leegh in as sharp a tone as his sister had used.
Will Walling was as much disgusted with the one as with the other. He answered the question:
“Your father is here, Mr. Leegh, to succor his daughter in her distress. Presently I shall ask you, her brother, to lead her to your father’s presence.”
“It is my husband. My beast of a husband! What has he been doing! Oh, Heaven! I heard him say something about murder, and I thought it was only his drunken raving. Has he committed murder, then, and will he be hanged? If so, I will never show my face in England or New York again!” exclaimed Lamia, losing all decent self-control and becoming hysterical, not from anxious affection, but from alarmed pride.
“Compose yourself, madam. There is no murder on his hands. There is nothing but what you may get over in the peace of your father’s house,” said Will Walling.
“Why cannot you tell me what it is, then?” demanded Lamia, breaking into sobs and tears.
“Yes! why the mischief can’t you speak out?”
“Because I gave my word not to do so. Because, in any case, I would not do so. Because it is not even proper that I should. And, finally, because it is best that your sister should hear what she must from her father.”
“It is a nightmare! A horrid, hideous nightmare!” cried Lamia, sobbing violently.
“When are we to hear this news, whatever it may be—this mystery, this calamity—from the old gentleman?” roughly demanded Leegh.
“When the gentleman who is with him now comes out totell us that your father is ready to receive you,” replied Will Walling.
“By ——! Upon my honor, you are very cool, sir,” sneered Leegh.
“It is a nightmare! A ghastly, deadly nightmare!” wailed Lamia.
“It it the day of doom, and the quick and the dead rise in judgment!” groaned a deep, hollow voice.
It was that of Gentleman Geff. His rolling eyes had fallen upon a group composed of Mike, Dandy and Longman, and he sat staring in horror upon them.
“That drunken idiot ought to be carried up to bed, Lamia,” said Leegh in strong disgust.
“I will not have him touched,” replied the woman, with a shudder.
In the meantime Randolph Hay had crossed the hall and turned the knob of the library door. He found it locked. Then he rapped.
“Who is there?” inquired the quavering voice of John Legg.
“It is I, your friend, Hay,” replied Ran.
The door was instantly opened by Julia Legg.
“Please excuse us and come in, Mr. Hay. We only locked the door to keep that terrible man from bursting in upon us,” said Julia apologetically.
“Quite right,” replied Ran, good-humoredly, as he entered the room.
He found John Legg still sitting at the narrow table from which the little supper had not yet been removed. The poor man looked pale, haggard, anxious and many years older than he had seemed a few hours before.
Ran also took the precaution to lock the door before he came and seated himself at the table opposite John Legg. Julia drew a chair to the side of her husband, sat down and took his hands in hers.
“You look troubled, Mr. Hay. You have something more to tell me about my poor girl, and you shrink from telling it. But speak out, sir. I can bear it,” said John Legg, with stoical resignation.
“No, indeed, my friend, it is nothing more that I have to communicate of her; at least, nothing ill. I came inhere only, to plead for a little change in our plans,” said Ran soothingly.
“What is it, dear sir? Your kind will should be our law.”
“By no means!” earnestly exclaimed Ran. “But the change I wished to make is this: You remember that you proposed to keep out of your daughter’s way until she should have heard the worst that she must hear of her real position?”
“Yes. I shrank, and still shrink, from adding to her pain and mortification by my presence,” sighed the unhappy father.
“But, my dear Mr. Legg, consider for one moment. She has not yet heard the humiliating facts, but it is absolutely necessary that she should hear them to-night. Now is it not better that she should hear them from your lips than from mine or from my lawyer’s? Would she not suffer less to have the truth told her gently here, in private, by the lips of her father, than out there, in public, by the lips of a stranger?”
While Ran spoke John Legg sat with his gray head bowed upon his hands in deep, sorrowful reflection, and when Ran ceased to speak the poor father made no reply.
“What do you think about this, Mr. Legg?” gently persisted Ran.
“I don’t know! I don’t know!” moaned the old man in a heartbroken tone. “What do you say, Julia?” he piteously inquired, raising his head and appealing to his wife.
She took his hand again, and looking tenderly in his troubled face, answered gravely:
“I think, John, indeed, I think, that you had better do as Mr. Hay advises. It would be dreadful for that poor girl to hear of her misfortune facing all those people in there! And you know the man who betrayed her and committed countless other crimes must be exposed in public and then expelled from the house.”
Julia Legg spoke as she thought, but, in fact, Ran had no intention of turning the wretch in question out of doors in this freezing winter night.
“Julia, my dear, I have such confidence in your judgment that I will do as you say,” replied John Legg in a low voice. Then turning to Ran, he said:
“Mr. Hay, I am deeply grateful to you for all the aid and comfort and counsel you give me. You may, sir, if you please, bring or send my poor child to me.”
“I will do so at once,” said Ran, and he arose and left the room.
“And I will stand by you through all, John. I will be as good a mother to your unhappy girl as I am a true wife to you,” said Julia, still holding his hand in hers.