Chapter 44
October 24th. - Thank heaven, I am free and safe at last. Early werose, swiftly and quietly dressed, slowly and stealthily descendedto the hall, where Benson stood ready with a light, to open thedoor and fasten it after us. We were obliged to let one man intoour secret on account of the boxes, &c. All the servants were buttoo well acquainted with their master's conduct, and either Bensonor John would have been willing to serve me; but as the former wasmore staid and elderly, and a crony of Rachel's besides, I ofcourse directed her to make choice of him as her assistant andconfidant on the occasion, as far as necessity demanded, I onlyhope he may not be brought into trouble thereby, and only wish Icould reward him for the perilous service he was so ready toundertake. I slipped two guineas into his hand, by way ofremembrance, as he stood in the doorway, holding the candle tolight our departure, with a tear in his honest grey eye, and a hostof good wishes depicted on his solemn countenance. Alas! I couldoffer no more: I had barely sufficient remaining for the probableexpenses of the journey.
What trembling joy it was when the little wicket closed behind us,as we issued from the park! Then, for one moment, I paused, toinhale one draught of that cool, bracing air, and venture one lookback upon the house. All was dark and still: no light glimmeredin the windows, no wreath of smoke obscured the stars that sparkledabove it in the frosty sky. As I bade farewell for ever to thatplace, the scene of so much guilt and misery, I felt glad that Ihad not left it before, for now there was no doubt about thepropriety of such a step - no shadow of remorse for him I leftbehind. There was nothing to disturb my joy but the fear ofdetection; and every step removed us further from the chance ofthat.
We had left Grassdale many miles behind us before the round red sunarose to welcome our deliverance; and if any inhabitant of itsvicinity had chanced to see us then, as we bowled along on the topof the coach, I scarcely think they would have suspected ouridentity. As I intend to be taken for a widow, I thought itadvisable to enter my new abode in mourning: I was, therefore,attired in a plain black silk dress and mantle, a black veil (whichI kept carefully over my face for the first twenty or thirty milesof the journey), and a black silk bonnet, which I had beenconstrained to borrow of Rachel, for want of such an articlemyself. It was not in the newest fashion, of course; but none theworse for that, under present circumstances. Arthur was clad inhis plainest clothes, and wrapped in a coarse woollen shawl; andRachel was muffled in a grey cloak and hood that had seen betterdays, and gave her more the appearance of an ordinary though decentold woman, than of a lady's-maid.
Oh, what delight it was to be thus seated aloft, rumbling along thebroad, sunshiny road, with the fresh morning breeze in my face,surrounded by an unknown country, all smiling - cheerfully,gloriously smiling in the yellow lustre of those early beams; withmy darling child in my arms, almost as happy as myself, and myfaithful friend beside me: a prison and despair behind me,receding further, further back at every clatter of the horses'feet; and liberty and hope before! I could hardly refrain frompraising God aloud for my deliverance, or astonishing my fellow-passengers by some surprising outburst of hilarity.
But the journey was a very long one, and we were all weary enoughbefore the close of it. It was far into the night when we reachedthe town of L-, and still we were seven miles from our journey'send; and there was no more coaching, nor any conveyance to be had,except a common cart, and that with the greatest difficulty, forhalf the town was in bed. And a dreary ride we had of it, thatlast stage of the journey, cold and weary as we were; sitting onour boxes, with nothing to cling to, nothing to lean against,slowly dragged and cruelly shaken over the rough, hilly roads. ButArthur was asleep in Rachel's lap, and between us we managed prettywell to shield him from the cold night air.
At last we began to ascend a terribly steep and stony lane, which,in spite of the darkness, Rachel said she remembered well: she hadoften walked there with me in her arms, and little thought to comeagain so many years after, under such circumstances as the present.Arthur being now awakened by the jolting and the stoppages, we allgot out and walked. We had not far to go; but what if Frederickshould not have received my letter? or if he should not have hadtime to prepare the rooms for our reception, and we should findthem all dark, damp, and comfortless, destitute of food, fire, andfurniture, after all our toil?
At length the grim, dark pile appeared before us. The laneconducted us round by the back way. We entered the desolate court,and in breathless anxiety surveyed the ruinous mass. Was it allblackness and desolation? No; one faint red glimmer cheered usfrom a window where the lattice was in good repair. The door wasfastened, but after due knocking and waiting, and some parleyingwith a voice from an upper window, we were admitted by an old womanwho had been commissioned to air and keep the house till ourarrival, into a tolerably snug little apartment, formerly thescullery of the mansion, which Frederick had now fitted up as akitchen. Here she procured us a light, roused the fire to acheerful blaze, and soon prepared a simple repast for ourrefreshment; while we disencumbered ourselves of our travelling-gear, and took a hasty survey of our new abode. Besides thekitchen, there were two bedrooms, a good-sized parlour, and anothersmaller one, which I destined for my studio, all well aired andseemingly in good repair, but only partly furnished with a few oldarticles, chiefly of ponderous black oak, the veritable ones thathad been there before, and which had been kept as antiquarianrelics in my brother's present residence, and now, in all haste,transported back again.
The old woman brought my supper and Arthur's into the parlour, andtold me, with all due formality, that 'the master desired hiscompliments to Mrs. Graham, and he had prepared the rooms as wellas he could upon so short a notice; but he would do himself thepleasure of calling upon her to-morrow, to receive her furthercommands.'
I was glad to ascend the stern-looking stone staircase, and liedown in the gloomy, old-fashioned bed, beside my little Arthur. Hewas asleep in a minute; but, weary as I was, my excited feelingsand restless cogitations kept me awake till dawn began to strugglewith the darkness; but sleep was sweet and refreshing when it came,and the waking was delightful beyond expression. It was littleArthur that roused me, with his gentle kisses. He was here, then,safely clasped in my arms, and many leagues away from his unworthyfather! Broad daylight illumined the apartment, for the sun washigh in heaven, though obscured by rolling masses of autumnalvapour.
The scene, indeed, was not remarkably cheerful in itself, eitherwithin or without. The large bare room, with its grim oldfurniture, the narrow, latticed windows, revealing the dull, greysky above and the desolate wilderness below, where the dark stonewalls and iron gate, the rank growth of grass and weeds, and thehardy evergreens of preternatural forms, alone remained to tellthat there had been once a garden, - and the bleak and barrenfields beyond might have struck me as gloomy enough at anothertime; but now, each separate object seemed to echo back my ownexhilarating sense of hope and freedom: indefinite dreams of thefar past and bright anticipations of the future seemed to greet meat every turn. I should rejoice with more security, to be sure,had the broad sea rolled between my present and my former homes;but surely in this lonely spot I might remain unknown; and then Ihad my brother here to cheer my solitude with his occasionalvisits.
He came that morning; and I have had several interviews with himsince; but he is obliged to be very cautious when and how he comes;not even his servants or his best friends must know of his visitsto Wildfell - except on such occasions as a landlord might beexpected to call upon a stranger tenant - lest suspicion should beexcited against me, whether of the truth or of some slanderousfalsehood.
I have now been here nearly a fortnight, and, but for onedisturbing care, the haunting dread of discovery, I am comfortablysettled in my new home: Frederick has supplied me with allrequisite furniture and painting materials: Rachel has sold mostof my clothes for me, in a distant town, and procured me a wardrobemore suitable to my present position: I have a second-hand piano,and a tolerably well-stocked bookcase in my parlour; and my otherroom has assumed quite a professional, business-like appearancealready. I am working hard to repay my brother for all hisexpenses on my account; not that there is the slightest necessityfor anything of the kind, but it pleases me to do so: I shall haveso much more pleasure in my labour, my earnings, my frugal fare,and household economy, when I know that I am paying my wayhonestly, and that what little I possess is legitimately all myown; and that no one suffers for my folly - in a pecuniary way atleast. I shall make him take the last penny I owe him, if I canpossibly effect it without offending him too deeply. I have a fewpictures already done, for I told Rachel to pack up all I had; andshe executed her commission but too well - for among the rest, sheput up a portrait of Mr. Huntingdon that I had painted in the firstyear of my marriage. It struck me with dismay, at the moment, whenI took it from the box and beheld those eyes fixed upon me in theirmocking mirth, as if exulting still in his power to control myfate, and deriding my efforts to escape.
How widely different had been my feelings in painting that portraitto what they now were in looking upon it! How I had studied andtoiled to produce something, as I thought, worthy of the original!what mingled pleasure and dissatisfaction I had had in the resultof my labours! - pleasure for the likeness I had caught;dissatisfaction, because I had not made it handsome enough. Now, Isee no beauty in it - nothing pleasing in any part of itsexpression; and yet it is far handsomer and far more agreeable -far less repulsive I should rather say - than he is now: for thesesix years have wrought almost as great a change upon himself as onmy feelings regarding him. The frame, however, is handsome enough;it will serve for another painting. The picture itself I have notdestroyed, as I had first intended; I have put it aside; not, Ithink, from any lurking tenderness for the memory of pastaffection, nor yet to remind me of my former folly, but chieflythat I may compare my son's features and countenance with this, ashe grows up, and thus be enabled to judge how much or how little heresembles his father - if I may be allowed to keep him with mestill, and never to behold that father's face again - a blessing Ihardly dare reckon upon.
It seems Mr. Huntingdon is making every exertion to discover theplace of my retreat. He has been in person to Staningley, seekingredress for his grievances - expecting to hear of his victims, ifnot to find them there - and has told so many lies, and with suchunblushing coolness, that my uncle more than half believes him, andstrongly advocates my going back to him and being friends again.But my aunt knows better: she is too cool and cautious, and toowell acquainted with both my husband's character and my own to beimposed upon by any specious falsehoods the former could invent.But he does not want me back; he wants my child; and gives myfriends to understand that if I prefer living apart from him, hewill indulge the whim and let me do so unmolested, and even settlea reasonable allowance on me, provided I will immediately deliverup his son. But heaven help me! I am not going to sell my childfor gold, though it were to save both him and me from starving: itwould be better that he should die with me than that he should livewith his father.
Frederick showed me a letter he had received from that gentleman,full of cool impudence such as would astonish any one who did notknow him, but such as, I am convinced, none would know better howto answer than my brother. He gave me no account of his reply,except to tell me that he had not acknowledged his acquaintancewith my place of refuge, but rather left it to be inferred that itwas quite unknown to him, by saying it was useless to apply to him,or any other of my relations, for information on the subject, as itappeared I had been driven to such extremity that I had concealedmy retreat even from my best friends; but that if he had known it,or should at any time be made aware of it, most certainly Mr.Huntingdon would be the last person to whom he should communicatethe intelligence; and that he need not trouble himself to bargainfor the child, for he (Frederick) fancied he knew enough of hissister to enable him to declare, that wherever she might be, orhowever situated, no consideration would induce her to deliver himup.
30th. - Alas! my kind neighbours will not let me alone. By somemeans they have ferreted me out, and I have had to sustain visitsfrom three different families, all more or less bent upondiscovering who and what I am, whence I came, and why I have chosensuch a home as this. Their society is unnecessary to me, to saythe least, and their curiosity annoys and alarms me: if I gratifyit, it may lead to the ruin of my son, and if I am too mysteriousit will only excite their suspicions, invite conjecture, and rousethem to greater exertions - and perhaps be the means of spreadingmy fame from parish to parish, till it reach the ears of some onewho will carry it to the Lord of Grassdale Manor.
I shall be expected to return their calls, but if, upon inquiry, Ifind that any of them live too far away for Arthur to accompany me,they must expect in vain for a while, for I cannot bear to leavehim, unless it be to go to church, and I have not attempted thatyet: for - it may be foolish weakness, but I am under suchconstant dread of his being snatched away, that I am never easywhen he is not by my side; and I fear these nervous terrors wouldso entirely disturb my devotions, that I should obtain no benefitfrom the attendance. I mean, however, to make the experiment nextSunday, and oblige myself to leave him in charge of Rachel for afew hours. It will be a hard task, but surely no imprudence; andthe vicar has been to scold me for my neglect of the ordinances ofreligion. I had no sufficient excuse to offer, and I promised, ifall were well, he should see me in my pew next Sunday; for I do notwish to be set down as an infidel; and, besides, I know I shouldderive great comfort and benefit from an occasional attendance atpublic worship, if I could only have faith and fortitude to composemy thoughts in conformity with the solemn occasion, and forbid themto be for ever dwelling on my absent child, and on the dreadfulpossibility of finding him gone when I return; and surely God inHis mercy will preserve me from so severe a trial: for my child'sown sake, if not for mine, He will not suffer him to be torn away.
November 3rd. - I have made some further acquaintance with myneighbours. The fine gentleman and beau of the parish and itsvicinity (in his own estimation, at least) is a young . . . .
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Here it ended. The rest was torn away. How cruel, just when shewas going to mention me! for I could not doubt it was your humbleservant she was about to mention, though not very favourably, ofcourse. I could tell that, as well by those few words as by therecollection of her whole aspect and demeanour towards me in thecommencement of our acquaintance. Well! I could readily forgiveher prejudice against me, and her hard thoughts of our sex ingeneral, when I saw to what brilliant specimens her experience hadbeen limited.
Respecting me, however, she had long since seen her error, andperhaps fallen into another in the opposite extreme: for if, atfirst, her opinion of me had been lower than I deserved, I wasconvinced that now my deserts were lower than her opinion; and ifthe former part of this continuation had been torn away to avoidwounding my feelings, perhaps the latter portion had been removedfor fear of ministering too much to my self-conceit. At any rate,I would have given much to have seen it all - to have witnessed thegradual change, and watched the progress of her esteem andfriendship for me, and whatever warmer feeling she might have; tohave seen how much of love there was in her regard, and how it hadgrown upon her in spite of her virtuous resolutions and strenuousexertions to - but no, I had no right to see it: all this was toosacred for any eyes but her own, and she had done well to keep itfrom me.