The Last Chronicle of Barset (126 page)

John had now risen from his chair, and coming up to her took her by the arm and spoke a word. ‘Compose yourself,' he said. He spoke in his most affectionate voice, and he stood very close to her.

‘How easy it is to bid me do that,' said Madalina. ‘Tell the sea to compose itself when it rages!'

‘Madalina!' he said.

‘Well – what of Madalina? Madalina has lost her own respect – for ever.'

‘Do not say that.'

‘Oh John – why did you ever come here? Why? Why did we meet at that fatal woman's house? Or, meeting so, why did we not part as
strangers? Sir, why have you come here to my mother's house day after day, evening after evening, if – Oh, heavens, what am I saying? I wonder whether you will scorn me always?'

‘I will never scorn you.'

‘And you will pardon me?'

‘Madalina, there is nothing to pardon.'

‘And – you will love me?' Then, without waiting for any more encouraging reply – unable, probably, to wait a moment longer, she sunk upon his bosom. He caught her, of course – and at that moment the drawing-room door was opened, and Lady Demolines entered the chamber. John Eames detected at a glance the skirt of the old white dressing gown which he had seen whisking away on the occasion of his last visit to Porchester Terrace. But on the present occasion Lady Demolines wore over it a short red opera cloak, and the cap on her head was ornamented with coloured ribbons. ‘What is this,' she said, ‘and why am I thus disturbed?' Madalina lay motionless in Johnny's arms, while the old woman glowered at him from under the coloured ribbons. ‘Mr Eames, what is it that I behold?' she said.

‘Your daughter, madam, seems to be a little unwell,' said Johnny. Madalina kept her feet firm upon the ground, but did not for a moment lose her purchase against Johnny's waistcoat. Her respirations came very strong, but they came a good deal stronger when he mentioned the fact that she was not so well as she might be.

‘Unwell!' said Lady Demolines. And John was stricken at the moment with a conviction that her ladyship must have passed the early part of her life upon the stage. ‘You would trifle with me, sir. Beware that you do not trifle with her – with Madalina!'

‘My mother,' said Madalina; but still she did not give up her purchase, and the voice seemed to come half from her and half from Johnny. ‘Come to me, my mother.' Then Lady Demolines hastened to her daughter, and Madalina between them was gradually laid at her length upon the sofa. The work of laying her out, however, was left almost entirely to the stronger arm of Mr John Eames. ‘Thanks, mother,' said Madalina; but she had not as yet opened her eyes, even for an instant. ‘Perhaps I had better go now,' said Johnny. The old woman looked at him with eyes which asked whether ‘he didn't wish
he might get it' as plainly as though the words had been pronounced. ‘Of course I'll wait if I can be of any service,' said Johnny.

‘I must know more of this, sir, before you leave the house,' said Lady Demolines. He saw that between them both there might probably be a very bad quarter of an hour in store for him; but he swore to himself that no union of dragon and tigress should extract from him a word that could be taken as a promise of marriage.

The old woman was now kneeling by the head of the sofa, and Johnny was standing close by her side. Suddenly Madalina opened her eyes – opened them very wide and gazed around her. Then slowly she raised herself on the sofa, and turned her face first upon her mother and then upon Johnny. ‘You here, mamma!' she said.

‘Dearest one, I am near you. Be not afraid,' said her ladyship.

‘Afraid! Why should I be afraid? John! My own John! Mamma, he is my own.' And she put out her arms to him, as though calling to him to come to her. Things were now very bad with John Eames – so bad that he would have given a considerable lump out of Lord De Guest's legacy to be able to escape at once into the street. The power of a woman, when she chooses to use it recklessly, is, for the moment, almost unbounded.

‘I hope you find yourself a little better,' said John, struggling to speak, as though he were not utterly crushed by the occasion.

Lady Demolines slowly raised herself from her knees, helping herself with her hands against the shoulder of the sofa – for though still very clever, she was old and stiff – and then offered both her hands to Johnny. Johnny cautiously took one of them, finding himself unable to decline them both. ‘My son!' she exclaimed; and before he knew where he was the old woman had succeeded in kissing his nose and his whiskers. ‘My son!' she said again.

Now the time had come for facing the dragon and the tigress in their wrath. If they were to be faced at all, the time for facing them had certainly arrived. I fear that John's heart sank low in his bosom at that moment. ‘I don't quite understand,' he said, almost in a whisper. Madalina put out one arm towards him, and the fingers trembled. Her lips were opened, and the white row of interior ivory might be seen plainly; but at the present conjuncture of affairs she spoke not a
word. She spoke not a word; but her arm remained stretched out towards him, and her fingers did not cease to tremble.

‘You do not understand!' said Lady Demolines, drawing herself back, and looking, in her short open cloak, like a knight who has donned his cuirass, but has forgotten to put on his leg-gear. And she shook the bright ribbons of her cap, as a knight in his wrath shakes the crest of his helmet. ‘You do not understand, Mr Eames! What is it, sir, that you do not understand?'

‘There is some misconception, I mean,' said Johnny.

‘Mother!' said Madalina, turning her eyes from her recreant lover to her tender parent; trembling all over, but still keeping her hand extended. ‘Mother!'

‘My darling! But leave him to me, dearest. Compose yourself.'

‘ 'Twas the word that he said – this moment; before he pressed me to his heart.'

‘I thought you were fainting,' said Johnny.

‘Sir!' And Lady Demolines, as she spoke, shook her crest, and glared at him, and almost flew at him in her armour.

‘It may be that nature has given way with me, and that I have been in a dream,' said Madalina.

‘That which mine eyes saw was no dream,' said Lady Demolines. ‘Mr Eames, I have given to you the sweetest name that can fall from an old woman's lips. I have called you my son.'

‘Yes, you did, I know. But, as I said before, there is some mistake. I know how proud I ought to be, and how happy, and all that kind of thing. But –' Then there came a screech from Madalina, which would have awakened the dead, had there been any dead in that house. The page and cook, however, took no notice of it, whether they were awakened or not. And having screeched, Madalina stood erect upon the floor, and she also glared upon her recreant lover. The dragon and the tiger were there before him now, and he knew that it behoved him to look to himself. As he had a battle to fight, might it not be best to put a bold face upon it? ‘The truth is,' said he, ‘that I don't understand this kind of thing at all.'

‘Not understand it, sir?' said the dragon.

‘Leave him to me, mother,' said the tigress, shaking her head again,
but with a kind of shake differing from that which she had used before. ‘This is my business, and I'll have it out for myself. If he thinks I'm going to put up with his nonsense he's mistaken. I've been straightforward and above board with you, Mr Eames, and I expect to be treated in the same way in return. Do you mean to tell my mother that you deny that we are engaged?'

‘Well; yes; I do. I'm very sorry, you know, if I seem to be uncivil –'

‘It's because I've no brother,' said the tigress. ‘He thinks that I have no man near me to protect me. But he shall find that I can protect myself. John Eames, why are you treating me like this?'

‘I shall consult my cousin the serjeant tomorrow,' said the dragon. ‘In the meantime he must remain in this house. I shall not allow the front door to be unlocked for him.'

This, I think, was the bitterest moment of all for Johnny. To be confined all night in Lady Demolines' drawing-room would, of itself, be an intolerable nuisance. And then the absurdity of the thing, and the story that would go abroad! And what would he say to the dragon's cousin the serjeant, if the serjeant should be brought upon the field before he was able to escape from it? He did not know what a serjeant might not do to him in such circumstances. There was one thing no serjeant should do, and no dragon! Between them all they should never force him to marry the tigress. At this moment Johnny heard a tramp along the pavement, and he rushed to the window. Before the dragon or even the tigress could arrest him, he had thrown up the sash, and had appealed in his difficulty to the guardian of the night. ‘I say, old fellow,' said Johnny, ‘don't you stir from that till I tell you.' The policeman turned his bull's-eye upon the window, and stood perfectly motionless. ‘Now, if you please, I'll say good-night,' said Johnny. But, as he spoke he still held the open window in his hand.

‘What means this violence in my house?' said the dragon.

‘Mamma, you had better let him go,' said the tigress. ‘We shall know where to find him.'

‘You will certainly be able to find me,' said Johnny.

‘Go,' said the dragon, shaking her crest – shaking all her armour at him – ‘dastard, go!'

‘Policeman,' shouted Johnny, while he still held the open window
in his hand, ‘mind you don't stir till I come out.' The bull's-eye was shifted a little, but the policeman spoke never a word.

‘I wish you good-night, Lady Demolines,' said Johnny. ‘Good-night, Miss Demolines.' Then he left the window and made a run for the door. But the dragon was there before him.

‘Let him go, mamma,' said the tigress as she closed the window. ‘We shall only have a rumpus.'

‘That will be all,' said Johnny. ‘There isn't the slightest use in your trying to keep me here.'

‘And are we never to see you again?' said the tigress, almost languishing again with one eye.

‘Well; no. What would be the use? No man likes to be shut in, you know.'

‘Go, then,' said the tigress; ‘but if you think that this is to be the end of it you'll find yourself wonderfully mistaken. You poor false, drivelling creature! Lily Dale won't touch you with a pair of tongs. It's no use your going to her.'

‘Go away, sir, this moment, and don't contaminate my room an instant longer by your presence,' said the dragon, who had observed through the window that the bull's-eye was still in full force before the house. Then John Eames withdrew, and descending into the hall made his way in the dark to the front door. For aught he knew there might still be treachery in regard to the lock; but his heart was comforted as he heard the footfall of the policeman on the door-step. With much fumbling he succeeded at last in turning the key and drawing the bolt, and then he found himself at liberty in the street. Before he even spoke a word to the policeman he went out into the road and looked up at the window. He could just see the figure of the dragon's helmet as she was closing the shutters. It was the last he ever saw of Lady Demolines or of her daughter.

‘What was it all about?' said the policeman.

‘I don't know that I can just tell you,' said Johnny, searching in his pocket-book for half a sovereign which he tendered to the man. ‘There was a little difficulty, and I'm obliged to you for waiting.'

‘There ain't nothing wrong?' said the man suspiciously, hesitating for a moment before he accepted the coin.

‘Nothing on earth. I'll wait with you, while you have the house opened and inquire, if you wish it. The truth is somebody inside refused to have the door opened, and I didn't want to stay there all night.'

‘They're a rummy couple, if what I hear is true.'

‘They are a rummy couple,' said Johnny.

‘I suppose it's all right,' said the policeman, taking the money. And then John walked off home by himself, turning in his mind all the circumstances of his connection with Miss Demolines. Taking his own conduct as a whole, he was rather proud of it; but he acknowledged to himself that it would be well that he should keep himself free from the society of Madalinas for the future.

On the morning of the Sunday after the dean's return Mr Harding was lying in his bed, and Posy was sitting on the bed beside him. It was manifest to all now that he became feebler and feebler from day to day, and that he would never leave his bed again. Even the archdeacon had shaken his head, and had acknowledged to his wife that the last day for her father was near at hand. It would soon be necessary that he should select another vicar for St Ewold's.

‘Grandpa won't play cat's-cradle,' said Posy, as Mrs Arabin entered the room.

‘No, darling – not this morning,' said the old man. He himself well knew that he would never play cat's-cradle again. Even that was over for him now.

‘She teases you, papa,' said Mrs Arabin.

‘No, indeed,' said he. ‘Posy never teases me'; and he slowly moved his withered hand down outside the bed, so as to hold the child by her frock. ‘Let her stay with me, my dear.'

‘Dr Filgrave is downstairs, papa. You will see him, if he comes up?' Now Dr Filgrave was the leading physician of Barchester, and nobody of note in the city – or for the matter of that in the eastern division of the county – was allowed to start upon the last great journey without some assistance from him as the hour of going drew nigh. I do not know that he had much reputation for prolonging life, but he was supposed to add a grace to the hour of departure. Mr Harding had expressed no wish to see the doctor – had rather declared his conviction that Dr Filgrave could be of no possible service to him. But he was not a man to persevere in his objection in opposition to the wishes of his friends around him; and as soon as the archdeacon had spoken a word on the subject he assented.