This interesting quartette became so exclusive that little attention was paid to other Bombay society. It soon was rumored that Paul Lanier and Agnes Randall were mutually smitten. The report was confirmed by the manner of all. In their confidences, Sir Charles and Pierre casually referred to this gossip. It was talked over between Agnes and Paul.
Neither evinced any disposition to discipline the "tattling dame."
Paul proposed marriage. Agnes felt disposed to grant his suit, but would abide her uncle's decision. To Paul this appeared proper. He entertained the highest respect for Sir Charles Chesterton. Much as Paul desired this marriage, he would defer to the judgment of her fond uncle.
It was arranged that Paul should submit the matter the next day. At the time appointed the subject came up in the private room of Sir Charles.
Paul was graciously received. From Sir Charles' manner Paul was sure that Agnes had spoken to her uncle of the proposal, and had received a favorable response. He avowed his love for Agnes, and their intention to abide Sir Charles' decision.
This gracious uncle for a while remains silent. His prolonged pause embarra.s.ses Paul. Sir Charles asks where Paul was born, where his relatives reside, their names, his father's antecedents, their future intentions as to home and business, what portions of the world they had seen, adding, "These questions may seem impertinent, but I wish to know all about the one seeking the hand of my favorite niece and heir."
Encouraged, Paul answers quite fully. Sir Charles seems satisfied.
After an extended pause, during which Paul shifts about in nervous antic.i.p.ation, Sir Charles tells him there is yet another important matter, often neglected, but of which, before deciding, he must have full information.
"To my mind the present and future property interests of the proposed husband of Agnes Randall are vital considerations. This young girl would not think of such matters, but I have lived longer, and never will consent to her marrying a pauper. I antic.i.p.ate living a few years, and whoever becomes the husband of Agnes Randall must have sufficient property to support her elegantly during this time. After I am through with earth there will be no danger about the future of my niece, as my will provides for that."
Paul a.s.sures Sir Charles that both he and his father are very wealthy.
Sir Charles seems much pleased. He hopes Paul will not consider him impertinent, but there must be a more definite statement of financial resources.
"I must have an inventory. The list must be full, including every description of property, real and personal, with exact location of each separate parcel. If you desire, I will furnish such a statement of my property, which is all willed to Agnes, but there must be one furnished to me."
Paul is willing to tell Sir Charles all about the matter, but cannot now properly describe their properties as required.
Sir Charles says:
"Mr. Lanier, tell all you know, to be made more definite later."
With paper and pencil Sir Charles makes notes. The recital is quite minute and without reserve. Sir Charles is much gratified. His memory refreshed by interjected inquiries, Paul tells so much that there is little need of promised statement. However, Sir Charles does not waive further information.
In good spirits, Paul leaves to confer with Pierre Lanier.
The wily father is much pleased at his son's matrimonial prospects, but says: "Paul, I do not like his insistence on details, but perhaps you ought to humor him. So far as information cannot be evaded, the truth should be told, for possibly this stubborn fellow may take time and trouble to verify your statements."
The list is prepared with care. Within three days the completed statement is presented to Sir Charles, who promises to look it over.
Agnes and Paul are often together. They exchange mutual confidences, each expressing the fond hope that her uncle will be satisfied.
Incidentally Paul speaks of his past experiences, giving wrong names, places, dates, and a.s.sociations. He is encouraged to do this by the artless curiosity and interest of this fond girl, whose past at times seems entirely merged in that of her lover.
Frequently Agnes speaks of Paul's reminiscent confidences when her uncle is present. Some trifling changes are made by Paul, but she is too fond to be sensitive. Her memory is defective. Even Paul's guarded mention of boyish excesses is interesting. Both uncle and niece approve of the youthful sower's occupation. There are seasons for distributing untamed oats.
Pierre Lanier accepts frequent invitations to call upon these aristocratic friends. He and Sir Charles are growing still more confidential.
The matrimonial decision is further postponed, but in such frank, honest manner, that waiting is not difficult.
In strict confidence, Sir Charles tells of many dubious successes. He knows the elder Lanier will not betray a friend's trust. Without prying into secrets of his guest, Sir Charles touches on outskirts of many crafty exploits, suggestive of more complex villainies. Pierre Lanier is greatly interested, but the narrative always lacks coherence at the most thrilling point.
By his questionable tactics Sir Charles had ama.s.sed great wealth, which covered all moral turpitude with silken mantle.
Gradually the habitual secrecy of Pierre Lanier loses its restraining discretion. These cronies become inseparable. Under influence of insidious drinks, they vie in recitals of villainous craft. Sir Charles enjoins strict secrecy.
"Never let Paul and Agnes know what their father and uncle have done for them!"
Sir Charles seems to revel in such reminiscences. He has his friend repeat parts of narratives at different times, and never tires of these villainous recitals.
Sir Charles promises to decide concerning Paul's proposal within three months. This is most exasperating, but there is no help. He will take a trip to Calcutta, and postpone decision until his return.
It is evident to both Laniers that Sir Charles intends to test their statements of property interests at that point. The elder Lanier has business there, and will be pleased to accompany Sir Charles. Paul prefers to remain in Bombay, and is delighted that Agnes has no thought of going on this trip. Sir Charles is glad to visit Calcutta with his dear friend Pierre Lanier. They sail together.
Paul's calls upon Agnes are frequent. These seem indifferent to Bombay society, finding ample diversion in each other's presence. There is about Agnes such bewitching air of refinement, coupled with suggestive, romantic interest, that Paul yields completely to the charm. Her conduct varies, and there are capricious feminine moods. Paul sees in these, hints of possible estrangement, and suits his manners to every change.
Agnes discreetly limits Paul's calls to proper times. The intervals between these visits he endures under protest. Paul becomes still more hopelessly infatuated, and is ready to applaud any suggestion of this charming girl. Loyal to her unspoken whims, he would not hesitate at any act she might seem to approve. Agnes' caprices multiply with Paul's increasing acquiescence. There are many blanks in her narratives, and Paul feels these must be properly filled.
Agnes seems bored at commonplace talk, never appearing really happy except when listening to Paul's telling of questionable exploits wherein he was the central figure. Hints at successful craft, vindictive temper, swift retribution, and bootless pursuit are sure of thrilling appreciation. But those bewitching smiles subsiding, Paul is obliged to regain favor by more explicit recitals, seconded by her pertinent questioning.
By slow processes the story is told. Names, dates, and places have been misstated, but such inadvertences are not misleading.
Circ.u.mstances correct particular errata.
Some time after the departure of Sir Charles and Pierre Lanier for Calcutta, Agnes informs Paul that her uncle has sailed for Bombay. She had received word to that effect, and his letter was of most cheerful tone.
Paul expects a favorable decision, and with pleasant emotions awaits the arrival of Sir Charles. Agnes requests that Paul defer again calling before Thursday. This will be two days, but she wishes to avoid scandal.
Comments have been made by cheap tattlers about his frequent visits.
"Perhaps in a little while there will be no need for such care."
Paul is pleased at the modest suggestion. He looks forward to marriage with this aristocratic heiress, and the future is most luminous. Even haunting memories of Alice Webster and Oswald Langdon fail to dampen Paul's expectant joy. These recede, their menacing voices stilled by hope's siren lullaby.
Upon Thursday evening Paul calls upon Agnes, according to appointment.
The servant ushers him into the private room of Sir Charles. This seems strange, but Paul thinks it some caprice of Agnes. There is but one chair in the room, and this faces the door through which Paul expects Agnes to enter. The lights are dim and throw fitful shadows. Though feeling a superst.i.tious sense, Paul's strong nerves brace against all "uncanny" sentiments. He attempts to turn on more light, but finds this is impossible. He shifts uneasily, finally picking up a paper lying on a small table within reach. Date and t.i.tle startle him. How came this copy of _London Press_ of such date in possession of Sir Charles or Agnes?
Paul's hand shakes as he glances over the paper's contents. He beholds, under heavily marked red lines, the account of the Thames tragedy.
Just then the door opens from an adjoining room. Draped in seaweed, the form of Alice Webster appears, blood oozing from her bruised temple, long damp tresses clinging to her neck and face. With uplifted hand, the apparition slowly advances toward the cowering Paul, as if to strike.
Paralyzed with terror, the guilty wretch falls upon the floor, begging for mercy. Slowly the ghost, without change of mien, pa.s.ses backward through the open door, disappearing in rayless darkness.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "WITH UPLIFTED HAND THE APPARITION SLOWLY ADVANCED TOWARD THE COWERING PAUL, AS IF TO STRIKE."]
Paul recovers, and rising resumes his seat. Straining his bewildered gaze, he sees that the door is shut. He is alone. Everything is as before. It must have been an hallucination, but how dreadfully real the appearance of drowned Alice Webster! Where is Agnes? Soon he hears a voice in the next room.
With solemn inflection it repeats from Hood's "Eugene Aram" these fearful lines:
"'Nothing but lifeless flesh and bone, That could not do me ill; And yet I feared him all the more For lying there so still: There was a manhood in his look That murder could not kill.
"'So wills the fierce avenging sprite Till blood for blood atones.
Ay, tho' he's buried in a cave, And trodden down with stones, And years have rotted off his flesh, The world shall see his bones.'"
There is a minute's pause.