showery weather set in, and the hay had to be turned twice, and left in cocks instead of carried.
griffith spoke now and then about the foreign tour; but kate deigned no reply whatever; and the chilled topic died out before the wet hay could be got in: and so much for procrastination.
meantime, betty gough was sent for to mend the house-linen. she came every other day after dinner, and sat working alone beside mrs. gaunt till dark.
caroline ryder put her own construction on this, and tried to make friends with mrs. gough, intending to pump her. but mrs. gough gave her short, dry answers. ryder then felt sure that gough was a go-between, and, woman-like, turned up her nose at her with marked contempt. for why? this office of go-between was one she especially coveted for herself under the circumstances; and, a little while ago, it had seemed within her grasp.
one fine afternoon the hay was all carried, and griffith came home in good spirits to tell his wife he was ready to make the grand tour with her.
he was met at the gate by mrs. gough, with a face of great concern; she begged him to come and see the dame; she had slipped on the oak stairs, poor soul, and hurt her back.
griffith tore up the stairs, and found kate in the drawing-room lying on a sofa, and her doctor by her side. he came in, trembling like a leaf, and clasped her piteously in his arms. at this she uttered a little patient sigh of pain, and the doctor begged him to moderate himself: there was no immediate cause of alarm; but she must be kept quiet: she had strained her back, and her nerves were shaken by the fall.
"oh, my poor kate!" cried griffith; and would let nobody else touch her. she was no longer a tall girl, but a statuesque woman; yet he carried her in his herculean arms up to her bed. she turned her head towards him and shed a gentle tear at this proof of his love; but the next moment she was cold again, and seemed weary of her life.
an invalid's bed was sent to her by the doctor at her own request, and placed on a small bed-stead. she lay on this at night, and on a sofa by day.
griffith was now as good as a widower; and caroline ryder improved the opportunity. she threw herself constantly in his way, all smiles, small talk, and geniality.
like many healthy men, your sickness wearied him if it lasted over two days; and, whenever he came out, chilled and discontented, from his invalid wife, there was a fine, buoyant, healthy young woman, ready to chat with him, and brimming over with undisguised admiration.
true, she was only a servant; a servant to the core. but she had been always about ladies, and could wear their surface as readily as she could their gowns. moreover, griffith himself lacked dignity and reserve: he would talk to anybody.
the two women began to fill the relative situations of clouds, and sunshine.
but, ere this had lasted long, the enticing contact with the object of her lawless fancy inflamed ryder, and made her so impatient that she struck her long meditated blow a little prematurely.
the passage outside mrs. gaunt's door had a large window: and one day, while griffith was with his wife, ryder composed herself on the window-seat in a forlorn attitude, too striking and unlike her usual gay demeanour to pass unnoticed.
griffith came out and saw this drooping disconsolate figure. "hallo!" said he, "what is wrong with you?" a little fretfully.
a deep sigh was the only response.
"had words with your sweetheart?"
"you know i have no sweetheart, sir."
the good-natured squire made an attempt or two to console her and find out what was the matter; but he could get nothing out of her but monosyllables and sighs. at last the crocodile contrived to cry. and having thus secured his pity, she said——
"there, never heed me. i'm a foolish woman; i can't bear to see my dear master so abused."
"what d'ye mean?" said griffith, sternly. her very first shaft wounded his peace of mind.
"oh, no matter! why should i be your friend and my own enemy? if i tell you i shall lose my place."
"nonsense, girl, you shall never lose your place while i am here."
"well, i hope not, sir; for i am very happy here; too happy methinks, when you speak kindly to me. take no notice of what i said. 'tis best to be blind at times."
the simple squire did not see that this artful creature was playing the stale game of her sex: stimulating his curiosity under pretence of putting him off. ho began to fret with suspicion and curiosity, and insisted on her speaking out.
"ah! but i am so afraid you will hate me," said she; "and that will be worse than losing my place."
griffith stamped on the ground. "what is it?" said he, fiercely.
ryder seemed frightened. "it is nothing," said she; then she paused, and added, "but my folly. i can't bear to see you waste your feelings. she is not so ill as you fancy."
"do you mean to say that my wife is pretending?"
"how can i say that? i wasn't there: nobody saw her fall; nor heard her either; and the house full of people. no doubt there is something the matter with her; but i do believe her heart is in more trouble than her back."
"and what troubles her heart? tell me, and she shall not fret long."
"well, sir: then just you send for father leonard: and she will get up, and walk as she used, and smile on you as she used. that man is the main of her sickness, you take my word."
griffith turned sick at heart: and the strong man literally staggered at this envenomed thrust of a weak woman's tongue. but he struggled with the poison.
"what d'ye mean, woman?" said he. "the priest hasn't been near her these two months."
"that is it, sir," replied eyder, quietly; "he is too wise to come here against your will; and she is bitter against you for frightening him away. ask yourself, sir, didn't she change to you the moment that you threatened that leonard with the horse-pond?"
"that is true!" gasped the wretched husband. yet he struggled again. "but she made it up with me after that. why, 'twas but the other day she begged me to go abroad with her, and take her away from this place."
"ah? indeed!" said ryder, bending her black brows, "did she so?"
"that she did," said griffith, joyfully: "so you see you are mistaken."
"you should have taken her at her word, sir," was all the woman's reply.
"well, you see the hay was out: so i put it off; and then came the cursed rain day after day; and so she cooled upon it."
"of course she did, sir." then, with a solemnity that appalled her miserable listener, "i'd give all i'm worth if you had taken her at her word that minute. but that is the way with you gentlemen: you let the occasion slip: and we that be women never forgive that: she won't give you the same chance again, i know. now if i was not afraid to make you unhappy, i'd tell you why she asked you to go abroad. she felt herself weak and saw her danger; she found she could not resist that leonard any longer; and she had the sense to see it wasn't worth her while to ruin herself for him; so she asked you to save her from him: that is the plain english. and you didn't."
at this griffith's face wore an expression of agony so horrible that ryder hesitated in her course. "there, there," said she, "pray don't look so, dear master! after all, there's nothing certain; and perhaps i am too severe where i see you ill-treated: and to be sure no woman could be cold to you unless she was bewitched out of her seven senses by some other man. i couldn't use you as mistress does; but then there's nobody i care a straw for in these parts, except my dear master."
griffith took no notice of this overture: the potent poison of jealousy was coursing through all his veins and distorting his ghastly face.
"oh, god!" he gasped, "can this thing be? my wife! the mother of my child! it is a lie! i can't believe it; i won't believe it. have pity on me, woman, and think again, and unsay your words; for, if 'tis so, there will be murder in this house."
ryder was alarmed. "don't talk so," said she, hastily; "no woman born is worth that: besides, as you say, what do we know against her? she is a gentlewoman, and well brought up. now, dear master, you have got one friend in this house, and that is me: i know women better than you do. will you be ruled by me?"
"yes, i will: for i do believe you care a little for me."
"then don't you believe anything against our dame. keep quiet till you know more. don't you be so simple as to accuse her to her face, or you'll never learn the truth. just you watch her quietly, without seeming: and i'll help you. be a man, and know the truth."
"i will!" said griffith, grinding his teeth. "and i believe she will come out pure as snow."
"well, i hope so too," said ryder, drily. then she added, "but don't you be seen speaking to me too much, sir, or she will suspect me, and then she will be on her guard with me. when i have anything particular to tell you, i'll cough, so; and then i'll run out into the grove: nobody goes there now."
griffith did not see the hussy was contriving a series of assignations. he fell into the trap bodily.
the life this man led was now infernal.
he watched his wife night and day to detect her heart; he gave up hunting, he deserted the "red lion;" if he went out of doors, it was but a step; he hovered about the place to see if messages came or went; and he spent hours in his wife's bedroom, watching her, grim, silent, and sombre, to detect her inmost heart. his flesh wasted visibly, and his ruddy colour paled. hell was in his heart. ay, two hells: jealousy and suspense.
mrs. gaunt saw directly that something was amiss, and ere long she divined what it was.
but, if he was jealous, she was proud as lucifer. so she met his ever-watchful eye with the face of a marble statue.
only in secret her heart quaked and yearned, and she shed many a furtive tear, and was sore, sore perplexed.
meantime ryder was playing with her master's anguish like a cat with a mouse.
upon the pretence of some petty discovery or other, she got him out day after day into the grove, and, to make him believe in her candour and impartiality, would give him feeble reasons for thinking his wife loved him still; taking care to overpower these reasons with some little piece of strong good sense and subtle observation.
it is the fate of moral poisoners to poison themselves as well as their victims. this is a just retribution, and it fell upon this female iago. her wretched master now loved his wife to distraction, yet hated her to the death: and ryder loved her master passionately, yet hated him intensely, by fits and starts.
these secret meetings on which she had counted so, what did she gain by them? she saw that, with all her beauty, intelligence, and zeal for him, she was nothing to him still. he suspected, he sometimes hated his wife, but he was always full of her. there was no getting any other wedge into his heart.
this so embittered ryder that one day she revenged herself on him.
he had been saying that no earthly torment could equal his: all his watching had shown him nothing for certain. "oh," said he, "if i could only get proof of her innocence, or proof of her guilt! anything better than the misery of doubt. it gnaws my heart, it consumes my flesh. i can't sleep, i can't eat, i can't sit down. i envy the dead that lie at peace. oh, my heart! my heart!"
"and all for a woman that is not young, nor half so handsome as yourself. well, sir, i'll try and cure you of your doubt, if that is what torments you. when you threatened that leonard, he got his orders to come here no more. but she visited him at his place again and again."
"'tis false! how know you that?"
"as soon as your back was turned she used to order her horse and ride to him."
"how do you know she went to him?"
"i mounted the tower, and saw the way she took."
griffith's face was a piteous sight, he stammered out, "well, he is her confessor. she always visited him at times."
"ay, sir; but in those days her blood was cool, and his too; but bethink you now, when you threatened the man with the horse-pond, he became your enemy. all revenge is sweet; but what revenge is so sweet to any man as that which came to his arms of its own accord? i do notice that men can't read men, but any woman can read a woman. maids they are reserved, because their mothers have told them that is the only way to get married. but what have a wife and a priest to keep them distant? can they ever hope to come together lawfully? that is why a priest's light-o'-love is always some honest man's wife. what had those two to keep them from folly? old betty gough? why, the mistress had bought her, body and soul, long ago. no, sir, you had no friend there; and you had three enemies—love, revenge, and opportunity. why, what did the priest say to me? i met him not ten yards from here. 'ware the horse-pond!' says i. says he, 'since i am to have the bitter, i'll have the sweet as well.'"[1]
these infernal words were not spoken in vain. griffith's features were horribly distorted, his eyes rolled fearfully, and he fell to the ground, grinding his teeth, and foaming at the mouth. an epileptic fit!
[1] compare this statement with p. 129.
ah epileptic fit is a terrible sight: the simple description of one in our medical books is appalling.
and in this case it was all the more fearful, the subject being so strong and active.
caroline ryder shrieked with terror, but no one heard her; at all events, no one came; to be sure the place had a bad name for ghosts, etc.
she tried to hold his head, but could not, for his body kept bounding from the earth with inconceivable elasticity and fury, and his arms flew in every direction; and presently ryder received a violent blow that almost stunned her.
she lay groaning and trembling beside the victim of her poisonous tongue and of his own passion.
when she recovered herself he was snorting rather than breathing, but lying still and pale enough, his eyes set and glassy.
she got up, and went with uneven steps to a little rill hard by, and plunged her face in it: then filled her beaver hat, and came and dashed water repeatedly in his face.
he came to his senses by degrees; but was weak as an infant. then ryder wiped the foam from his lips, and kneeling on her knees, laid a soft hand upon his heavy head, shedding tears of pity and remorse, and sick at heart herself.
for what had she gained by blackening her rival? the sight of his bodily agony, and his ineradicable love.
mrs. gaunt sat out of shot, cold, calm, superior.
yet, in the desperation of her passion, it was something to nurse his "weak head an instant and shed hot tears upon his brow; it was a positive joy, and soon proved a fresh and inevitable temptation.
"my poor master," said she, tenderly, "i never will say a word to you again. it is better to be blind. my god! how you cling to her that feigns a broken back to be rid of you, when there are others as well to look at, and ever so much younger, that adore every hair on your head, and would follow you round the world for one kind look."
"let no one love me like that," said griffith, feebly, "to love so, is to be miserable."
"pity her then, at least," murmured ryder; and, feeling she had quite committed herself now, her bosom panted under griffith's ear, and told him the secret she had kept till now.
my female readers will sneer at this temptation: my male readers know that scarcely one man out of a dozen, sick, sore, and hating her he loved, would have turned away from the illicit consolation thus offered to him in his hour of weakness with soft seducing tones, warm tears, and heart that panted at his ear.
