The Weapons of Mystery by Joseph Hocking (i am reading a book TXT) 📕

id="id00596">"There's more than surmise, sur. You know the plantation up behind the house, Mr. Blake?"

"The fir plantation? Very well."

"Well, sur, the night afore last I wur up there. They are hevin' a kind of Christmas-tree in one of the Sunday schools over in the willage to-night, and some o' the teachers came to the guv'nor and asked him for a tree to put some knick-knacks on. So he says to me, 'Simon,' says he, 'go up in the plantation and pull up a young fir tree, and then in the morning put it in the cart and take it over to the school-room.' This was day afore yesterday, in the afternoon. I was busy jist then, so I didn't go to the plantation till 'twas dusk. However, as you know, yer honour, 'tis moonlight, so I didn't trouble. Well, I got a young fir tree pulled up, and was jist a-going to light my pipe, when I see some figures a-comin' threw the plantation towards a summer-'ouse that was put up 'bout two year ago. So I lied luff. 'I believe,' I says, 'that it's that hinfidel and the skinny wirgin a-walkin' together.' They goes into the summer-'ouse, and then I creeps down, and gets behind a tree, but close enough to the couple to hear every word. Sure 'nough, sur, I wur right; it was the wirgin Staggles and this 'ere Woltaire.

"'They seemed quarrellin' like when I come up, for she wur sayin'—

"'Tis no use, she never will.'

"'Nonsense!' says he. 'Give her time, and poison her mind against that
Blake, and she'll come around.'

"'I've done that,' says she. 'I've told her that Mr. Blake is a regular male flirt; that he's had dozens of love affairs with girls; and, besides that, I told her that her marked preference for him was being talked about.'

"'Yes,' says Woltaire, 'and see how she's treated him since.'

"'True enough,' says she; 'but it's made her no softer towards you. If she avoids him, she dislikes you.'

"'And do you think she cares about Blake?' says he.

"'I don't know,' she replies. 'She never would tell me anything, and that's why I dislike her so. But, for all that, she's no hypocrite.'

"'Well, what for that?' he asks.

"'I went to her room last night, and I began to tell her more about him and compare him with you.'

"'Well?' says he.

"'Well, she got into a temper, and told me that she would not allow Mr.
Blake's name to be associated with yours in her room.'

"Then, sur, that 'ere willain he swore like a trooper, and said he'd make you rue the day you were born. After that, they were silent for a little while, and then she says to him—

"'I believe she knows what you are wanting to do, and has some idea of the influence you have exerted over him. She's as sharp as a lancet, and it's difficult to deceive her.'

"'If only that Blake hadn't come,' he says, as if talkin' to hisself.

"'Yes,' she says, 'but he has come,' says she.

"'But if he can be made to leave her, and never speak to her again, will it not show to her that he's what you said he was, and thus turn her against him?'

"'I don't know. She's been cool enough to drive him away,' said that 'ere
Miss Staggles.

"'But if he leaves disgraced, proved to be a villain, a deceiver, a blackleg, or worse than that, while I show up as an angel of light?'

"'I don't know,' she says. 'You are a wonderful man; you can do almost anything. You could charm even an angel.'

"'Well, you'll do your best for me, won't you?' says he.

"'You know I will,' she says; 'but we must not be seen together like this, or they will suspect something.'

"'True,' says he, 'but I want to know how things are goin' on.' Then he stopped a minit, and a thought seemed to strike him. 'Miss Staggles, my friend,' he says, 'watch her closely, and meet me here on New Year's Day, at five o'clock in the evening. It's dark then, and everybody will be indoors.'"

"Then, yer honour, they went away together, and I was on the look-out for you all day yesterday."

There was much in Simon's story to think about, and for a time all was mystery to me. One thing, however, I thought was clear. He had either found he could do no good by his mesmeric influences, or else he had lost them, and so he was working up some other scheme against me. I pondered long over the words, "If he leaves disgraced, proved to be a villain, a deceiver, a blackleg, or worse than that, while I show up as an angel of light?" Surely that meant a great deal! I must be on the watch. I must be as cunning as he. I did not like eavesdropping or playing the spy, and yet I felt there were times when it would be right to do so, and surely that time had come in my history. There was villainy to be unmasked, there was a true, innocent girl to be saved, while my reputation, happiness, and perhaps life were in danger. I determined I would meet stratagem with stratagem. I would hear this conference in the wood that evening. I would seek to undeceive Miss Forrest, too, whose behaviour was now explained. Accordingly, after a few more words with Simon, I wended my way back to the house again.

I found Miss Forrest still in the library, together with Tom Temple and
Edith Gray. All three looked up brightly at my entrance.

"We were just talking about you, Justin," said Tom, as I joined them. "I had been telling these ladies what a terrible woman-avoider you have always been. Miss Forrest wouldn't believe me at first; but that story of your walking five miles alone, rather than ride in a carriage with some ladies, has convinced her. I thought you had improved the first day or so after you came, but you seem to have fallen back into your old ways."

"Don't put the fault on me, Tom," I said.

"The fault has generally been with the ladies. The truth is, I'm not a ladies' man, and hence not liked by them. I have generally been put down as a kind of bore, I expect, and I've never taken the trouble to improve my reputation."

"Then you ought," said Miss Gray, laughingly. "It's a shame that you should be under such a ban, because if a man can't make himself pleasant to ladies, what can he do?"

"Well, I should like to turn over a new leaf," I replied; "but then I don't seem to please. I've no doubt my company is very tiring, and thus I must be left out in the cold."

"Nonsense," replied Tom. "Let us have another ride this afternoon, and see whether you can't make Miss Forrest a pleasant companion."

"If Miss Forrest would allow me, I should be delighted," I said.

I expected an excuse, such as a cold, a headache, or some previous engagement, especially as she had looked steadily into the fire while we had been talking. Instead of this, however, she frankly accepted my escort, and accordingly the ride was arranged.

Nothing of importance happened before we started. We had gone out quietly, and had attracted no notice, and rode away towards the ruins of an old castle which Tom thought we should like to visit.

As I stated, it was a raw, cold day; but I did not feel the biting wind, or notice the weird desolation that was all around. I felt supremely happy as I rode by Miss Forrest's side.

We had gone perhaps two miles from the house, when we found ourselves separated from Tom Temple and Miss Gray, and we slackened our horses' speed to a walk.

"Have you thought my conduct strange since we last rode out together?" she said.

"I have indeed," I replied bluntly, "especially as I do not remember having done anything that should merit your evident dislike to me."

"I owe you an apology," she said. "I have been very foolish, very unjust. I am very sorry."

"But might I ask why you saw fit to change your conduct from friendliness to extreme aversion?"

"I'm almost ashamed to tell you, Mr. Blake, but I will. If there is one thing for which I have aversion and contempt, it is for flirting, coquetry, and the like. If there is any species of mankind that I despise, it is that of a flirt, a society man, a ladies' man."

"And have I ever given evidence of belonging to that class, Miss
Forrest?"

"No," she replied; "and that is why I am so ashamed of myself. But I listened to some foolish gossip about your boasting of your conquests with ladies and the like. I know I ought not to have listened to it, but I did. I am very sorry; will you forgive me?"

She said this frankly, and without hesitation; yet I thought I saw a blush mount her cheek as she spoke.

"If there is anything to forgive, I do forgive you," I replied, "especially as I despise that class of individuals as much as you. The vapid, dancing society mannikin is everywhere an object of contempt, while a society girl, as generally accepted, is not a whit more to my taste."

I saw she was pleased at this, and I felt I loved her more than ever. Did she, I wondered, care anything for me? Was there any vestige of interest in her heart beyond that which she felt for any passing acquaintance?

"Mr. Blake," she said, after pausing a second, "do you remember what we were talking about that day when we last rode out together?"

"We were talking of Mr. Voltaire," I said. "Have you found out anything more about him?"

"No, I have not. Is there any mystery connected with him?"

"I think there is. I have an indistinct kind of feeling that both he and the Egyptian are deceivers, while I am sure that Mr. Voltaire is—is your enemy."

"I have no doubt he is," I said.

She looked at me strangely.

"I had not been in Temple Hall two hours before that man had marked me as one that he would fain be rid of."

"Indeed," she said; "then if that is the case, you should listen to my advice. Have nothing to do with him."

"But I must have something to do with him, and with his friend the
Egyptian as well."

"Don't," she said anxiously; "the two work together, and both are cunning as serpents. I believe," she continued, after a pause, "that the thought-reading and mesmerism were somehow designed to injure you. I think somehow they are acquainted with forces unknown to us, and will use them for evil."

"Yes, I believe all that," I said.

"Then why must you have any dealings with them?"

"Because they will have dealings with me; because they are plotting against me; because there are forces, over which I have no control, drawing me on."

"But why will they have dealings with you? Why are they plotting against you?"

"Because Voltaire knows that I love, with all my soul, the woman he wants to win for his wife."

A curious look shot across her face. What was it? Love, astonishment, pain, vexation, or joy? I could not tell; but my tongue was unloosed.

"Do I annoy you, astonish you, Miss Forrest?" I said. "Forgive me if I do. I have been regarded as a woman-hater, a society-avoider. That is because I never saw a woman in whom I was sufficiently interested to court her society. I have heard it said that such characters fall in love quickly, or not at all. The first day I saw you I fell in love with you; I love you now with all my soul."

She looked at my face steadily, but did not speak a word.

"Voltaire has found out this, and he too wants you for his wife; so he has been trying—is trying—to drive me away from here. How I cannot tell you; but what I have said is true!" I spoke rapidly, passionately, and I saw that her face became alternately pale and red, but she did not reply.

"Am I bold to speak thus?" I asked. "I think I must be, for I have scarcely known you a week. But I cannot help it. My life is given up to you.