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"I am in great trouble, Mary; I cannot rest; and I have come to talk to you about it," said Lavinia, taking the sable boa from her neck and untying her bonnet-strings. "If things were to continue as they are now, I should die of it."
Drawing a chair near to Mary Carimon, Lavinia entered upon her narrative. She spoke first of general matters. The home discomfort, the trouble with Captain Fennel regarding Nancy's money, and the difficulty she had to keep up the indispensable payments to the tradespeople, expressing her firm belief that in future he would inevitably seize upon Nancy's portion when it came and confiscate it. Next, she went on to tell the story of the past night--Sunday: how the old terrible horror had come upon her of entering the house, of a fancied appearance of Edwin Fennel in the pa.s.sage, and of the dream that followed. All this latter part was but a repet.i.tion of what she had told Madame Carimon three or four months ago. Hearing it for the second time, it impressed Mary Carimon's imagination. But she did not speak at once.
"I never in my life saw anything plainer or that looked more life-like than Captain Fennel, as he stood and gazed at me from the end of the pa.s.sage with the evil look on his countenance," resumed Lavinia. "And I hardly know why I tell you about it again, Mary, except that I have no one else to speak to. You rather laughed at me the first time, if you remember; perhaps you will laugh again now."
"No, no," dissented Mary Carimon. "I did not put faith in it before, believing you were deceived by the uncertain light in the pa.s.sage, and were, perhaps, thinking of him, and that the dream afterwards was merely the result of your fright; nothing else. But now that you have had a second experience of it, I don't doubt that you do see this spectre, and that the dream follows as a sequence to it. And I think," she added, slowly and emphatically, "that it has come to warn you of some threatened harm."
"I seem to see that it has," murmured Lavinia. "Why else should it come at all? I wish I could picture it to you half vividly enough: the reality of it and the horror. Mary, I am growing seriously afraid."
"Were I you, I should get away from the house," said Madame Carimon.
"Leave them to themselves."
"It is what I mean to do, Mary. I cannot remain in it, apart from this undefined fear--which of course _may_ be only superst.i.tious fancy,"
hastily acknowledged Lavinia. "If things continue in the present state--and there is no prospect of their changing----"
"I should leave at once--as soon as they arrive home," rather sharply interrupted Mary Carimon, who seemed to like the aspect of what she had heard less and less.
"As soon as I can make arrangements. They come home to-night; I received a letter from Nancy this morning. They have been only at Pontipette all the time."
"Only at Pontipette!"
"Nancy says so. It did as well as any other place. Captain Fennel's motive was to hide away from the lawyers we met at the table d'hote."
"Have they left Sainteville, I wonder, those lawyers?"
"Yes," said Lavinia. "On Friday I met Mr. Lockett when I was going to the Rue Lamartine, and he told me he was leaving for Calais with his friend on Sat.u.r.day morning. It is rather remarkable," she added, after a pause, "that the first time I saw that appearance in the pa.s.sage and dreamed the dream, should have been the eve of Mr. Fennel's return here, and that it is the same again now."
"You must leave the house, Lavinia," reiterated Madame Carimon.
"Let me see," considered Lavinia. "April comes in this week. Next week will be Pa.s.sion Week, preceding Easter. I will stay with them over Easter, and then leave."
Monsieur Jules Carimon's sock, in process of renovation, had been allowed to fall upon the mender's lap. She slowly took it up again, speaking thoughtfully.
"I should leave at once; before Easter. But you will see how he behaves, Lavinia. If not well; if he gives you any cause of annoyance, come away there and then. We will take you in, mind, if you have not found a place to go to."
Lavinia thanked her, and rearranged her bonnet preparatory to returning home. She went out with a heavy heart. Only one poor twelvemonth to have brought about all this change!
At the door of the Pet.i.te Maison Rouge, when she reached it, stood Flore, parleying with a slim youth, who held an open paper in his outstretched hand. Flore was refusing to touch the paper, which was both printed and written on, and looked official.
"I tell him that Monsieur le Capitaine is not at home; he can bring it when he is," explained Flore to her mistress in English.
Lavinia turned to the young man. "Captain Fennel has been away from Sainteville for a few days; he probably will be here to-morrow," she said. "Do you wish to leave this paper for him?"
"Yes," said the messenger, evidently understanding English but speaking in French, as he contrived to slip the paper into Miss Preen's unconscious hand. "You will have the politeness to give it to him, madame."
And, with that, he went off down the entry, whistling.
"Do you know what the paper is, Flore?" asked Lavinia.
"I think so," said Flore. "I've seen these papers before to-day. It's just a sort of order from the law court on Captain Fennel, to pay up some debt that he owes; and, if he does not pay, the court will issue a proces against him. That's what it is, madame."
Lavinia carried the paper into the salon, and sat studying it. As far as she could make it out, Mr. Edwin Fennel was called upon to pay to some creditor the sum of one hundred and eighty-three francs, without delay.
"Over seven pounds! And if he does not pay, the law expenses, to enforce it, will increase the debt perhaps by one-half," sighed Lavinia. "There may be, and no doubt _are_, other things at the back of this. Will he turn us out of house and home?"
Propping the paper against the wall over the mantelpiece, she left it there, that it might meet the captain's eye on his return.
Not until quite late that evening did Madame Carimon get her husband to herself, for he brought in one of the young under-masters at the college to dine with them. But as soon as they were sitting cosily alone, he smoking his pipe before bed-time, she told him all she had heard from Lavinia Preen.
"I don't like it, Jules; I don't indeed," she said. "It has made a strangely disagreeable impression on me. What is your opinion?"
Placid Monsieur Jules did not seem to have much opinion one way or the other. Upon the superst.i.tious portion of the tale he, being a practical Frenchman, totally declined to have any at all. He was very sorry for the uncomfortable position Miss Preen found herself in, and he certainly was not surprised she should wish to quit the Pet.i.te Maison Rouge if affairs could not be made more agreeable there. As to the Capitaine Fennel, he felt free to confess there was something about him which he did not like: and he was sure no man of honour ought to have run away clandestinely, as he did, with Miss Nancy.
"You see, Jules, what the man aims at is to get hold of Nancy's income and apply it to his own uses--and for Lavinia to keep them upon hers."
"I see," said Jules.
"And Lavinia _cannot_ do it; she has not half enough. It troubles me very much," flashed Madame Carimon. "She says she shall stay with them until Easter is over. _I_ should not; I should leave them to it to-morrow."
"Yes, my dear, that's all very well," nodded Monsieur Jules; "but we cannot always do precisely what we would. Miss Preen is responsible for the rent of that house, and if Fennel and his wife do not pay it, she would have to. She must have a thorough understanding upon that point before she leaves it."
By the nine-o'clock train that night they came home, Lavinia, pleading a bad headache and feeling altogether out of sorts, got Flore to remain for once, and went herself to bed. She dreaded the very sight of Captain Fennel.
In the morning she saw that the paper had disappeared from the mantelpiece. He was quite jaunty at breakfast, talking to her and Nancy about Pontipette; and things pa.s.sed pleasantly. About eleven o'clock he began brus.h.i.+ng his hat to go out.
"I'm going to have a look at Griffin, and see how he's getting on," he remarked. "Perhaps the old man would enjoy a drive this fine day; if so, you may not see me back till dinner-time."
But just as Captain Fennel turned out of the Place Ronde to the Rue Tessin, he came upon Charles Palliser, strolling along.
"Fine day, Mr. Charles," he remarked graciously.
"Capital," a.s.sented Charles, "and I'm glad of it; the old gentleman will have a good pa.s.sage. I've just seen him off by the eleven train."
"Seems to me you spend your time in seeing people off by trains. Which old gentleman is it now?--him from below?"
Charley laughed. "It's Griffin this time," said he. "Being feeble, I thought I might be of use in starting him, and went up."
"Griffin!" exclaimed Captain Fennel. "Why, where's he gone to?"
"To Calais. En route for Dover and----"
"What's he gone for? When's he coming back?" interrupted the captain, speaking like a man in great amazement.
"He is not coming back at all; he has gone for good," said Charley. "His daughter came to fetch him."
"Why on earth should she do that?"
"It seems that her husband, a clergyman at Kensington, fell across Major Smith last week in London, and put some pretty close questions to him about the old man, for they had been made uneasy by his letters of late.