from clement hazeldine to hermia rivers.
"having written and posted my last letter to you, i lost no time in asking mr. gruding, the landlord of the hotel where i am staying, to again favor me with his company for a short time. it was from him i had obtained my information about mr. hodgson, and it seemed not unlikely that he might be able to supply me with some particulars anent miss pengarvon, of broome.
"nor was i mistaken. gruding had much that was interesting to tell me in answer to the questions i put to him; all of which shall be re-told you fully when next we meet.
"the interview with my landlord took place on saturday. having decided upon seeing miss pengarvon for myself, i made my way yesterday morning to the church she is in the habit of attending, which is situated on the outskirts of the village of dritton, and within half-a-mile of the hall; and there, in a square, old-fashioned pew, shut up by herself in isolated dignity, sat the last living representative of the old family.
"i was fortunate enough to be so placed as to have a good view of miss pengarvon during the progress of the service, and i took care to be standing close to the porch when she emerged from the church. she was followed by an old serving man, who limped somewhat, and who carried his mistress's capacious umbrella and large-print prayer-book.
"enclosed is a sketch-likeness of miss pengarvon, elaborated from a rougher sketch which i made seated on a tombstone, as soon as the congregation had dispersed and i was left alone.
"now i want you, dearest, to tell me whether you can detect in the sketch any resemblance to either of the two ladies whom you saw that evening in the oak-panelled room, as described by you in your last letter but one."
hermia rivers to clement hazeldine.
"without committing myself to a positive statement, i can safely say that the sketch of miss pengarvon, which i received from you this morning, bears a marked resemblance to the face of the elder of the two sisters--if sisters they were--as stored up in my memory all these years. more than that it would not be safe for me to say."
if clem had been troubled by any faint doubts before as to whether he was on the right track, the receipt of hermia's last note would have served to finally dissipate them. being satisfied so far, he was at once faced by the question, what ought his next step to be? it was a question hard to answer, because it seemed to him that beyond the point at which he had now arrived he had no sure ground to go upon.
as far as he had gone each step he had taken had pointed the way to the next; but he now found himself, as it were, confronted by a dead wall. despite all he had discovered so far, he felt that he had no sufficient basis of facts to warrant him in going to miss pengarvon. what, indeed, could he say to her if he sought and obtained an interview? he would simply be showing his hand prematurely, with the result, in all likelihood, of defeating the very object he had in view.
but although he could not see his way to call upon the mistress of broome, clement was by no means minded to give up his quest at the point to which he had now brought it, and admit his inability to push it to a further issue. somewhere in the dark must be hidden another link of the chain, if only he knew in which direction to put forth his hands and grope for it.
two or three days passed without bringing him any suggestion that seemed worth following up. then, on the third forenoon, as he stood leaning over a gate in a country lane, staring at nothing in particular in a somewhat disconsolate mood, he said to himself: "perhaps if i could obtain access to the old hall, and were allowed to go over it, i might chance to light on something which would furnish me with a hint or a clue to that which i am so anxious to find out." the course in question seemed such an obvious one that he was surprised it had failed to suggest itself to him before.
as soon as he got back to the hotel he sought another interview with his landlord, who opened his eyes to their fullest extent when told his guest's object in sending for him. he, gruding, had never heard of anybody who wanted to go over broome. it wasn't a show place, and, as far as he knew, there was nothing in it worth seeing. but granting that anyone should want to go over it, he didn't for a moment suppose that miss pengarvon would allow them to do so. still, he might be wrong. he had reason to believe that his barmaid's brother was engaged to a young woman who was in service at broome, and there was no doubt the young fellow in question could easily get to know through his sweetheart whether there was any likelihood of a stranger being allowed to explore the interior of the hall.
at clement's request a message was sent to mark finch--that being the young fellow's name--asking him to call upon doctor hazeldine at the "king's arms" as soon as his day's work was over. in due course he made his appearance, and great was his astonishment when told what he was wanted for. like the landlord, he had never heard of anybody who was anxious to explore the old mansion; nor did he believe they would be allowed to do so. however he would ask his sweetheart, lucy grice, whom he was going to meet that evening, and would let the gentleman know her opinion in the matter by breakfast-time next morning.
lucy's opinion proved to be merely a confirmation of those already enunciated by gruding and mark finch, except that it was expressed in still more emphatic terms. anybody, she said, who was acquainted with miss pengarvon would know quite well that on no account whatever would that lady allow a stranger, who could allege the gratification of an idle curiosity as his only motive for wanting to do so, to set foot across the threshold of broome. many people in clem's place would have given up the point as hopeless; but he was composed of more stubborn stuff. mark finch was told to come again in the evening, when he would have time for a long talk with dr. hazeldine.
into the details of the conversation that passed between the two it is not needful that we should enter. mark and lucy, it seemed, were desirous of getting married, and were saving up towards housekeeping with that end in view. towards the fund thus being accumulated clem offered to contribute five pounds, on condition that lucy, unknown to the other inmates, should admit him to the hall, and show him over that part of it which was shut up and unoccupied. the girl would be at his heels the whole time he was inside the house, and would be able to watch his every movement; while, finally, he engaged that an hour and a half at most should elapse between the time of his entering the house and leaving it.
the temptation proved too strong for the lovers to resist. lucy foresaw no difficulty in carrying out her part of the scheme. once a month her uncle, barney dale, went to marrowfield, as he had done for the last quarter of a century, to dispose of the work of his mistress's needle. three days hence was his time for going, and dr. hazeldine's exploration must take place while he was away. breakfast would be over, and miss pengarvon, intent on her work in the green parlor, would hear nothing. as a further safeguard, however, it might be as well if the young doctor were to wear a pair of list slippers over his boots.
as it was arranged so it was carried out. clement was surreptitiously admitted at the side entrance about half-an-hour after barney had taken his departure. under the guidance of the girl he tramped upstairs and down in his list slippers, passing from one unused room to another, having here a shutter opened for him, so as to let in a modified daylight, and there a blind partly drawn up. many of the rooms were entirely denuded of furniture, while in others what there was of it was sheeted up in brown holland. everywhere the dust lay thick and heavy; the clouded mirrors could but reflect the ghosts, as it were, of the young man and the girl as they passed in front of them. nearly every corner was festooned with huge cobwebs; behind the wainscoting the mice squeaked and scampered; everything was touched by the mouldering finger of decay. when clement and his guide spoke to each other it was as people speak in the chamber of death.
last of all they came to the picture-gallery, where hung some score or more portraits of dead and gone pengarvons. a lozenge-paned oriel window at one end, the upper half of which was filled with painted glass, suffused the gallery with a faintly-tinted half-light, which seemed fitly to accord with the place and the throng of dumbly-staring effigies on its walls. clem walked up to the oriel and gazed out into the grounds, while lucy proceeded to open the shutters of two of the long windows which fronted the portraits. presently clem's eyes came back to the window, and to a recognition of the fact that sundry names and initials had been scratched with a diamond here and there on its panes. among them he found one which sent a sudden rush of blood to his heart the moment his eyes lighted on it. surmounted by a true lover's knot, and with the date 1649 below, were the two names "hermia moray" and "rupert pengarvon." here was proof positive of one thing--that "hermia" was a name not unknown in the pengarvon annals upwards of two centuries ago. clem felt that this discovery alone amply rewarded him for his exploration of the hall. presently he turned to examine the portraits. one after another his gaze took them in till the series was exhausted. they comprised both sexes, and some of the oldest of them, judging from their costumes, seemed to date back to the time of the first or second charles, but apparently none were more modern than the first decade of the present century. then clement went back to one of the portraits, and stood gazing at it in silence for a long time. it was the likeness of a girl of nineteen or twenty, wearing a short-waisted white robe, a broad blue sash, and a wide-brimmed hat with sweeping plumes over an elaborate arrangement of curls and loosely-coiled tresses. taken simply as a work of art, it was the gem of the gallery, and clem at once set it down as being from the brush of either lawrence or sir joshua. but what struck him more than aught else was the strange, haunting likeness it bore to hermia. not merely was it that the eyes and hair of one and the other approximated closely in color, and that the features of both might almost have been cast in the same mould, there was an indescribable something, a sort of spiritual likeness, so to call it, which brought them into closer affinity than any mere similarity of physical attributes would have served to do. long and earnestly did clement gaze at the beautiful face with its hovering smile, and its fathomless violet eyes which seemed as if they were reading his inmost thoughts. lucy, when questioned, could tell him nothing about the original. she had only been in the gallery once before, and felt anything but comfortable with all those staring eyes following her every movement. but it would not do to linger there forever. clem had brought sketching materials with him in readiness for any emergency that might arise, and he now proceeded, with a few bold, swift touches, to secure the salient points of the likeness which had for him an interest far exceeding that of all the other portraits put together.
he left stavering by the afternoon train that same day, and a few hours later was back at home.
