The Missing Manuscript of Jane Austen (43 page)

Hope entered Rebecca’s breast; she could feel its anxious flutter. “What did you do?”

“I went thither myself, to see what more I could learn of the matter.”

Rebecca was all amazement; for it was an all-day journey
from Elm Grove to Leatherhead, under the best of circumstances. Eagerly, she urged him to continue.

“I was obliged to wait until I could arrange a break in my clerical duties, for I had already been away a great deal in the months previous; but this I managed to do. I rode to Leatherhead, where I booked a room at the King’s Arms. I spoke with the innkeeper, who was very surprised to see me. As I posed my questions, he responded in a cordial and deferential manner, as was fit and appropriate when speaking to a clergyman—but I observed an aspect of nervous apprehension which he could not conceal. I saw him at once for the rascal he was—in short, I knew he was lying through his teeth.”

“Oh!” cried Rebecca.

“The best part is coming,” stated Charles, leaning forward in his chair with a smile.

“I made it my business to speak with the staff,” continued Mr. Clifton, “one at a time, mind you, out of sight of the proprietor, and in a manner which I hoped would inspire complete confidence—doing every thing I could think of to get to the bottom of the matter. Did they remember any thing about a clergyman from Elm Grove, who had stayed there a few months back? Were they aware that a great deal of money had gone missing from his person? Did they have any idea how that money came to be lost? Did they see Mr. Stanhope engaged in a game of cards, and if so, with whom? How long did he play? Did he appear to have lost a great deal? And so on.”

Rebecca, greatly moved by this remarkable display of energy, effort, and devotion, said with emotion, “What did you discover?”

“I found that nearly every report contradicted that which the innkeeper had asserted, and closely matched what your
father had said. One girl remembered a couple of wealthy gentlemen who had stayed the same night, and that a brief, friendly game had taken place. Another had heard all the tumult on the morning of Mr. Stanhope’s departure, and she remembered his anguish upon discovering that his money was lost. But no one had any notion of what had actually happened, beyond what the innkeeper later told them.—No one, that is, except the proprietor’s wife, who I managed to corner alone in the kitchen that evening. At first, clearly forewarned by her husband, she simply parroted back every thing he had already said. But when I impressed upon her who I was, and what powers my father and my uncle had at their disposal, it seemed to strike some fear in her. Once I told her
your
story in full, Miss Stanhope, along with its devastating consequences, and appealed to her sense of justice, and her honour and duty as a Christian, she at length broke down in tears and revealed all. She said her husband, after overhearing your father tell another patron that he was on an errand for the church, and had with him a great deal of money, sneaked into Mr. Stanhope’s room while he was sleeping, and stole the entire sum!”

Rebecca’s astonishment and relief at hearing this discourse, which entirely cleared her father of any wrong- doing, was so very great, that she leapt to her feet and exclaimed with joy.

“You see,” said Sarah, with a bright and loving smile, “I told you all along that papa was innocent.”

So happy was Rebecca, that it was some moments before she regained mastery of herself. “Words cannot express my gratitude, Mr. Clifton,” said she, upon resuming her seat, “for what you have done. You have restored my father to us.”

Mr. Clifton smiled with humility, but before he could speak, Charles said,

“Are not you going to ask what happened to all the money, Rebecca?”

The fate of the stolen money had not even entered Rebecca’s mind. “I imagine it is all gone.”

“No!” cried Charles. “That is the wonderful thing. Although some of it was spent, Mr. Clifton was able to recover the greater portion of it!”

So amazed was Rebecca by this assertion, that no words came in response.

“The innkeeper’s wife knew exactly where it was hidden,” explained Mr. Clifton, “and she retrieved it and gave it to me immediately, before her husband could learn what she had done and stop her. Fearing this might put her in danger of incurring her husband’s wrath, I confronted him again, told him what had transpired, and warned him that I would keep a steady eye on the proceedings of his establishment in future. If I ever heard of a similar incident taking place, or of his wife or any other person receiving ill treatment on his behalf, I would ensure that he spent the rest of his days in prison. I could see that he took my threats very seriously, and from the state of contrition and relief in which I left him, I believe him to be a changed man.”

“This is too, too wonderful,” said Rebecca.

“Papa is getting more than just his money back,” added Sarah, with a grateful look at Mr. Clifton, “
far
more. Just wait until you hear.”

Rebecca, barely daring to breathe, much less allowing herself to hope what this might mean, turned to Mr. Clifton with eyes wide. He smiled as he continued,

“I went to my uncle and told him every thing. He is as astonished as he is penitent, for he sees
now
the course which he
should
have taken, these three months past, to ascertain the real facts of Mr. Stanhope’s unfortunate predicament. I told him that with this evidence in hand, I could not consider continuing in my position, and insisted that he reinstate Mr. Stanhope as rector of Elm Grove. He immediately agreed.”

“Oh!”

“As soon as your father has recovered his health, Miss Stanhope, and is able to resume his duties, I shall step down and look for another position. In the meantime, your home will be restored to you. Please believe me when I say that I am very sorry for all the trouble you have been through. I wish it had never happened. And from the bottom of my heart, I wish you both well.”

Hot tears now gathered behind Rebecca’s eyes. Sarah clasped Rebecca’s hand tightly, and they both wept with joy, gratitude, and wonder. It was too much to believe. She could go home again, to Elm Grove—to her very own house. Papa had his position back—all would be as it once was—and all this happiness she owed to Mr. Clifton.

It was not long before Rebecca was herself again. Some time was then devoted to a happy reiteration of all that had been revealed. The subjects at hand were of such great interest to all, it seemed that no detail was too small, that it did not require further examination and exclamation. Rebecca took pains to ensure that Mr. Clifton understood how grateful she was for what he had done, and was about to do; but he insisted it was no more than any one should have done, who had a questioning mind, and cared about the truth.

She was now able to make known certain circumstances of which she had heretofore been silent, including the malicious rumour which had driven them from Bath, and the story of her performance at the concert, which had begun with such promise, and ended in humiliating ruin. She deliberately made no mention of Dr. Jack Watkins’s secret relationship with Miss Davenport, nor did she communicate her belief that he was the source of that unfortunate rumour. She did, however, admit that he had proposed, and she had turned him down, a disclosure which astonished her sister exceedingly, and seemed to particularly interest Mr. Clifton. Rebecca only said that she had her reasons for refusing the doctor, which she did not care to discuss.

That night, they all took turns sitting up with Mr. Stanhope. By morning, although still too weak for conversation, he was so much recovered, as to instill in all assembled every confidence that he would soon be entirely well again. By evening, he was sitting up in bed and able to consume some broth, and in such good spirits that Mr. Clifton was given an audience. Upon hearing all the news which the rector imparted, Mr. Stanhope was at first too astonished and overwhelmed to speak; then, like his daughter, he shed tears of joy, and could not find enough words to express his thanks.

The next day, Mr. Clifton was obliged to return to his parish. As he took his leave, he assured Rebecca and her father that the rectory would be ready for their occupation at any hour at which they should arrive. He would remove to one of the smaller bedrooms, and continue to conduct his duties, until such time as Mr. Stanhope was fully able to take over again. As Rebecca said good-bye, her heart was full; she could not help but feel again how very much they owed to the rector, and what a good, kind, and thoughtful man he was.

C
HAPTER
VIII

Mr. Stanhope’s improvement proceeded so smoothly that within three days, he had regained the greater part of his strength. Sarah and Charles, encouraged by his progress, announced their intention to return to Medford. Rebecca deemed it best to stay on a few days more, until her father could withstand the rigours of a journey. On the day of separation, they parted with all the affection and remorse of a family who are truly attached, with promises on Rebecca’s side to provide regular reports as to Mr. Stanhope’s condition, and Sarah and Charles promising to visit at Christmas.

It was not long before the patient was quite well again. As Mr. Clifton had generously insisted on paying for their transport, they were able to travel in comfort. For Rebecca, it was a triumphant and joyful crossing. For so many months, she had seen her father’s constant suffering, and had deeply felt his anguish as well as her own. Now, to observe the gladness in her father’s eyes, and the new-found calmness of his spirits, was immensely gratifying. As they entered their own neighbourhood, every house, farm, and field brought some particular and happy memory, and Rebecca could barely restrain her joy. Her first sight of the rectory—every aspect of it so sweet and familiar, and so dearly missed—induced happy tears; and as the carriage drew up and she assisted her father to alight, Martha, Eliza, and Mr. Gower came rushing out with exclamations of delight. Embraces were exchanged along with happy chatter; then Mr. Clifton appeared with a bow.

“Welcome home,” said he quietly.

Rebecca was so glad to see him, she could not contain her
smile. She and Mr. Clifton helped the old gentleman inside the house, and worked together to settle him comfortably in his favourite chair by the hearth. Only when these duties were completed, did Rebecca pause to look around her, and take in her surroundings.

She found, to her satisfaction, that every thing was very much as they had left it. When her eyes fell on the one addition—a brand-new pianoforte which sat in the same spot where her own, old instrument had stood before it was carted out the door by the removers—she exclaimed with pleasure.

“What a beautiful pianoforte, Mr. Clifton. Do you play?”

“I do not,” admitted he.

She was about to ask why he had bought the instrument, when she realised, from the look on his face as he gazed at her, that he had purchased it for her. “Mr. Clifton! Can it be?—surely you did not—but—oh!”

“You said you used to practise every morning. I hoped to make it possible for you to continue that enjoyment.”

Rebecca, at first too thrilled for words, sat down and began to play. The instrument was a good one, and the music she produced filled the room with its thrilling and vibrant sound. When Rebecca made her gratitude known to him, she sensed, from Mr. Clifton’s expression, that he had gained as much pleasure from the giving, as she had in the receiving.

She found to her delight that her father’s library was intact, and in even better condition than they had left it, for every beloved book remained on the shelves, and many of the leather volumes had been carefully waxed and polished to preserve their binding. After a walk on her own through the house and gardens, to reacquaint herself with every part
of the property which was so well-known and dear, and so dearly missed, Rebecca returned to find dinner waiting.

A fine meal was served in honour of the Stanhopes’ return, Mr. Clifton making a congenial third party at the table, and informing them of all that had gone on in the parish during their absence. “There were five new students at the Sunday School.—He had officiated at two funerals and three christenings.—Jane Repton and Thomas Dudley had posted banns, and were to be wed on Sunday.—Their barn door had blown open during a storm, and so terrified the chickens, that they had nearly fled the county, and the cow had broken through a fence and disappeared.—After a long search, he had discovered the chickens in Mr. Coulthard’s yard, and the cow knee-deep in mud down by the river.”—Several of the stories were described in so comical and endearing a manner, as to induce tears of laughter in the listeners.

Afterwards, they removed to the parlour, where they continued talking for several hours over tea.

“You seem to have handled every thing very well in my absence,” observed Mr. Stanhope.

“I did my best, sir; but I know the congregation will be extremely pleased to have you back.”

“Did you always intend to be a clergyman, Mr. Clifton?” inquired Mr. Stanhope.

“From the time I was a boy, that was always my ambition. My parents, however, were not at all keen on the idea, for the longest time.”