Ormond; Or, The Secret Witness. Volume 1 (of 3)

"How was he to know where gentlemen eat their suppers? Did she take him for a witch? What, in God's name, did she want with him at that hour? Could she not wait, at least, till he had done his supper? He warranted her pretty face would bring him home time enough."

Constantia was not disconcerted at the address. She knew that females are subjected, through their own ignorance and cowardice, to a thousand mortifications. She set its true value on base and low-minded treatment. She disdained to notice this ribaldry, but turned away from the servant to meditate on this disappointment.

A few moments after, a young fellow smartly dressed entered the apartment. He was immediately addressed by the other, who said to him, "Well, Tom, where's your master: there's a lady wants him," (pointing to Constantia, and laying a grinning emphasis on the word "lady".) She turned to the new-comer: "Friend, are you Mr. Craig's servant?"

The fellow seemed somewhat irritated at the bluntness of her interrogatory. The appellation of servant sat uneasily, perhaps, on his pride, especially as coming from a person of her appearance. He put on an air of familiar ridicule, and surveyed her in silence. She resumed, in an authoritative tone: – "Where does Mr. Craig spend this evening? I have business with him of the highest importance, and that will not bear delay. I must see him this night." He seemed preparing to make some impertinent answer, but she anticipated it: "You had better answer me with decency. If you do not, your master shall hear of it."

This menace was not ineffectual. He began in perceive himself in the wrong, and surlily muttered, "Why, if you must know, he is gone to Mr. Ormond's." And where lived Mr. Ormond? In Arch Street; he mentioned the number on her questioning him to that effect.

Being furnished with this information, she left them. Her project was not to be thwarted by slight impediments, and she forthwith proceeded to Ormond's dwelling. "Who was this Ormond?" she inquired of herself as she went along: "whence originated and of what nature is the connection between him and Craig? Are they united by unison of designs and sympathy of character, or is this stranger a new subject on whom Craig is practising his arts? The last supposition is not impossible. Is it not my duty to disconcert his machinations and save a new victim from his treachery? But I ought to be sure before I act. He may now be honest, or tending to honesty, and my interference may cast him backward, or impede his progress."

The house to which she had been directed was spacious and magnificent. She was answered by a servant, whose uniform was extremely singular and fanciful, whose features and accents bespoke him to be English, with a politeness to which she knew that the simplicity of her dress gave her no title. Craig, he told her, was in the drawing-room above stairs. He offered to carry him any message, and ushered her, meanwhile, into a parlour. She was surprised at the splendour of the room. The ceiling was painted with a gay design, the walls stuccoed in relief, and the floor covered with a Persian carpet, with suitable accompaniments of mirrors, tables, and sofas.

Craig had been seated at the window above. His suspicions were ever on the watch. He suddenly espied a figure and face on the opposite side of the street, which an alteration of garb and the improvements of time could not conceal from his knowledge. He was startled at this incident, without knowing the extent of its consequences. He saw her cross the way opposite this house, and immediately after heard the bell ring. Still he was not aware that he himself was the object of this visit, and waited with some degree of impatience for the issue of this adventure.

Presently he was summoned to a person below, who wished to see him. The servant shut the door as soon as he had delivered the message and retired.

Craig was thrown into considerable perplexity. It was seldom that he was wanting in presence of mind and dexterity, but the unexpectedness of this incident made him pause. He had not forgotten the awful charms of his summoner. He shrunk at the imagination of her rebukes. What purpose could be answered by admitting her? It was undoubtedly safest to keep at a distance; but what excuse should be given for refusing this interview? He was roused from his reverie by a second and more urgent summons. The person could not conveniently wait; her business was of the utmost moment, and would detain him but a few minutes.

The anxiety which was thus expressed to see him only augmented his solicitude to remain invisible. He had papers before him, which he had been employed in examining. This suggested an excuse – "Tell her that I am engaged just now, and cannot possibly attend to her. Let her leave her business. If she has any message, you may bring it to me."

It was plain to Constantia that Craig suspected the purpose of her visit. This might have come to his knowledge by means impossible for her to divine. She now perceived the wisdom of the precaution she had taken. She gave her letter to the servant with this message: – "Tell him I shall wait here for an answer, and continue to wait till I receive one."

Her mind was powerfully affected by the criticalness of her situation. She had gone thus far, and saw the necessity of persisting to the end. The goal was within view, and she formed a sort of desperate determination not to relinquish the pursuit. She could not overlook the possibility that he might return no answer, or return an unsatisfactory one. In either case, she was resolved to remain in the house till driven from it by violence. What other resolution could she form? To return to her desolate home, pennyless, was an idea not to be endured.

The letter was received, and perused. His conscience was touched, but compunction was a guest whose importunities he had acquired a peculiar facility of eluding. Here was a liberal offer. A price was set upon his impunity. A small sum, perhaps, would secure him from all future molestation. – "She spoke, to-be-sure, in a damned high tone. 'Twas a pity that the old man should be hungry before supper-time. Blind too! Harder still, when he cannot find his way to his mouth. Rent unpaid, and a flinty-hearted landlord. A pretty pickle, to-be-sure. Instant payment, she says. Won't part without it. Must come down with the stuff. I know this girl. When her heart is once set upon a thing, all the devils will not turn her out of her way. She promises silence. I can't pretend to bargain with her. I'd as lief be ducked, as meet her face to face. I know she'll do what she promises: that was always her grand failing. How the little witch talks! Just the dreamer she ever was! Justice! Compassion! Stupid fool! One would think she'd learned something of the world by this time."

He took out his pocket-book. Among the notes it contained the lowest was fifty dollars. This was too much, yet there was no alternative; something must be given. She had detected his abode, and he knew it was in the power of the Dudleys to ruin his reputation, and obstruct his present schemes. It was probable that, if they should exert themselves, their cause would find advocates and patrons. Still the gratuitous gift of fifty dollars sat uneasily upon his avarice. One idea occurred to reconcile him to the gift. There was a method he conceived of procuring the repayment of it with interest: he enclosed the note in a blank piece of paper, and sent it to her.

She received the paper, and opened it with trembling fingers: when she saw what were its contents, her feelings amounted to rapture. A sum like this was affluence to her in her present condition; at least it would purchase present comfort and security. Her heart glowed with exultation, and she seemed to tread with the lightness of air as she hied homeward. The languor of a long fast, the numbness of the cold, were forgotten. It is worthy of remark how much of human accommodation was comprised within this small compass; and how sudden was this transition from the verge of destruction to the summit of security.

Her first business was to call upon her landlord, and pay him his demand. On her return she discharged the little debts she had been obliged to contract, and purchased what was immediately necessary. Wood she could borrow from her next neighbour, and this she was willing to do, now that she had the prospect of repaying it.

END OF VOL. I

1

See this useful fact explained and demonstrated in Count Rumford's Essays.