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Desperate Remedies by Thomas Hardy XV. THE EVENTS OF THREE WEEKSChapter 3. THE FIFTH OF MARCH
Edward's disclosure had the effect of directing Owen Graye's thoughts into an entirely new and uncommon channel.
On the Monday after Springrove's visit, Owen had walked to the top of a hill in the neighbourhood of Tolchurch--a wild hill that had no name, beside a barren down where it never looked like summer. In the intensity of his meditations on the ever-present subject, he sat down on a weather-beaten boundary-stone gazing towards the distant valleys--seeing only Manston's imagined form.
Had his defenceless sister been trifled with? that was the question which affected him. Her refusal of Edward as a husband was, he knew, dictated solely by a humiliated sense of inadequacy to him in repute, and had not been formed till since the slanderous tale accounting for her seclusion had been circulated. Was it not true, as Edward had hinted, that he, her brother, was neglecting his duty towards her in allowing Manston to thrive unquestioned, whilst she was hiding her head for no fault at all?
Was it possible that Manston was sensuous villain enough to have contemplated, at any moment before the marriage with Cytherea, the return of his first wife, when he should have grown weary of his new toy? Had he believed that, by a skilful manipulation of such circumstances as chance would throw in his way, he could escape all suspicion of having known that she lived? Only one fact within his own direct knowledge afforded the least ground for such a supposition. It was that, possessed by a woman only in the humble and unprotected station of a lady's hired companion, his sister's beauty might scarcely have been sufficient to induce a selfish man like Manston to make her his wife, unless he had foreseen the possibility of getting rid of her again.
'But for that stratagem of Manston's in relation to the Springroves,' Owen thought, 'Cythie might now have been the happy wife of Edward. True, that he influenced Miss Aldclyffe only rests on Edward's suspicions, but the grounds are good--the probability is strong.'
He went indoors and questioned Cytherea.
'On the night of the fire, who first said that Mrs. Manston was burnt?' he asked.
'I don't know who started the report.'
'Was it Manston?'
'It was certainly not he. All doubt on the subject was removed before he came to the spot--that I am certain of. Everybody knew that she did not escape AFTER the house was on fire, and thus all overlooked the fact that she might have left before--of course that would have seemed such an improbable thing for anybody to do.'
'Yes, until the porter's story of her irritation and doubt as to her course made it natural.'
'What settled the matter at the inquest,' said Cytherea, 'was Mr. Manston's evidence that the watch was his wife's.'
'He was sure of that, wasn't he?'
'I believe he said he was certain of it.'
'It might have been hers--left behind in her perturbation, as they say it was--impossible as that seems at first sight. Yes--on the whole, he might have believed in her death.'
'I know by several proofs that then, and at least for some time after, he had no other thought than that she was dead. I now think that before the porter's confession he knew something about her-- though not that she lived.'
'Why do you?'
'From what he said to me on the evening of the wedding-day, when I had fastened myself in the room at the hotel, after Edward's visit. He must have suspected that I knew something, for he was irritated, and in a passion of uneasy doubt. He said, "You don't suppose my first wife is come to light again, madam, surely?" Directly he had let the remark slip out, he seemed anxious to withdraw it.'
'That's odd,' said Owen.
'I thought it very odd.'
'Still we must remember he might only have hit upon the thought by accident, in doubt as to your motive. Yes, the great point to discover remains the same as ever--did he doubt his first impression of her death BEFORE he married you. I can't help thinking he did, although he was so astounded at our news that night. Edward swears he did.'
'It was perhaps only a short time before,' said Cytherea; 'when he could hardly recede from having me.
'Seasoning justice with mercy as usual, Cytherea. 'Tis unfair to yourself to talk like that. If I could only bring him to ruin as a bigamist--supposing him to be one--I should die happy. That's what we must find out by fair means or foul--was he a wilful bigamist?'
'It is no use trying, Owen. You would have to employ a solicitor, and how can you do that?'
'I can't at all--I know that very well. But neither do I altogether wish to at present--a lawyer must have a case--facts to go upon, that means. Now they are scarce at present--as scarce as money is with us, and till we have found more money there is no hurry for a lawyer. Perhaps by the time we have the facts we shall have the money. The only thing we lose in working alone in this way, is time--not the issue: for the fruit that one mind matures in a twelvemonth forms a more perfectly organized whole than that of twelve minds in one month, especially if the interests of the single one are vitally concerned, and those of the twelve are only hired. But there is not only my mind available--you are a shrewd woman, Cythie, and Edward is an earnest ally. Then, if we really get a sure footing for a criminal prosecution, the Crown will take up the case.'
'I don't much care to press on in the matter,' she murmured. 'What good can it do us, Owen, after all?'
'Selfishly speaking, it will do this good--that all the facts of your journey to Southampton will become known, and the scandal will die. Besides, Manston will have to suffer--it's an act of justice to you and to other women, and to Edward Springrove.'
He now thought it necessary to tell her of the real nature of the Springroves' obligation to Miss Aldclyffe--and their nearly certain knowledge that Manston was the prime mover in effecting their embarrassment. Her face flushed as she listened.
'And now,' he said, 'our first undertaking is to find out where Mrs. Manston lived during the separation; next, when the first communications passed between them after the fire.'
'If we only had Miss Aldclyffe's countenance and assistance as I used to have them,' Cytherea returned, 'how strong we should be! O, what power is it that he exercises over her, swaying her just as he wishes! She loves me now. Mrs. Morris in her letter said that Miss Aldclyffe prayed for me--yes, she heard her praying for me, and crying. Miss Aldclyffe did not mind an old friend like Mrs. Morris knowing it, either. Yet in opposition to this, notice her dead silence and inaction throughout this proceeding.'
'It is a mystery; but never mind that now,' said Owen impressively. 'About where Mrs. Manston has been living. We must get this part of it first--learn the place of her stay in the early stage of their separation, during the period of Manston's arrival here, and so on, for that was where she was first communicated with on the subject of coming to Knapwater, before the fire; and that address, too, was her point of departure when she came to her husband by stealth in the night--you know--the time I visited you in the evening and went home early in the morning, and it was found that he had been visited too. Ah! couldn't we inquire of Mrs. Leat, who keeps the post-office at Carriford, if she remembers where the letters to Mrs. Manston were directed?'
'He never posted his letters to her in the parish--it was remarked at the time. I was thinking if something relating to her address might not be found in the report of the inquest in the Casterbridge Chronicle of the date. Some facts about the inquest were given in the papers to a certainty.'
Her brother caught eagerly at the suggestion. 'Who has a file of the Chronicles?' he said.
'Mr. Raunham used to file them,' said Cytherea. 'He was rather friendly-disposed towards me, too.'
Owen could not, on any consideration, escape from his attendance at the church-building till Saturday evening; and thus it became necessary, unless they actually wasted time, that Cytherea herself should assist. 'I act under your orders, Owen,' she said.
The Classical Library, This HTML edition copyright 2000.
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