October 24th.
- Thank heaven, I am free and
safe at last. Early
we rose, swiftly and quietly
dressed, slowly and stealthily
descended to the hall, where
Benson stood ready with a light,
to open the door and fasten it
after us. We were obliged to
let one man into our secret on
account of the boxes, &c. All
the servants were but too well
acquainted with their master's
conduct, and either Benson or
John would have been willing
to serve me; but as the former
was more staid and elderly, and
a crony of Rachel's besides,
I of course directed her to make
choice of him as her assistant
and confidant on the occasion,
as far as necessity demanded,
I only hope he may not be brought
into trouble thereby, and only
wish I could reward him for the
perilous service he was so ready
to undertake. I slipped two guineas
into his hand, by way of remembrance,
as he stood in the doorway, holding
the candle to light our departure,
with a tear in his honest grey
eye, and a host of good wishes
depicted on his solemn countenance.
Alas! I could offer no more:
I had barely sufficient remaining
for the probable expenses of
the journey.
What trembling joy it was when
the little wicket closed behind
us, as we issued from the park!
Then, for one moment, I paused,
to inhale one draught of that
cool, bracing air, and venture
one look back upon the house.
All was dark and still: no light
glimmered in the windows, no
wreath of smoke obscured the
stars that sparkled above it
in the frosty sky. As I bade
farewell for ever to that place,
the scene of so much guilt and
misery, I felt glad that I had
not left it before, for now there
was no doubt about the propriety
of such a step - no shadow of
remorse for him I left behind.
There was nothing to disturb
my joy but the fear of detection;
and every step removed us further
from the chance of that.
We had left Grassdale many
miles behind us before the round
red sun arose to welcome our
deliverance; and if any inhabitant
of its vicinity had chanced to
see us then, as we bowled along
on the top of the coach, I scarcely
think they would have suspected
our identity. As I intend to
be taken for a widow, I thought
it advisable to enter my new
abode in mourning: I was, therefore,
attired in a plain black silk
dress and mantle, a black veil
(which I kept carefully over
my face for the first twenty
or thirty miles of the journey),
and a black silk bonnet, which
I had been constrained to borrow
of Rachel, for want of such an
article myself. It was not in
the newest fashion, of course;
but none the worse for that,
under present circumstances.
Arthur was clad in his plainest
clothes, and wrapped in a coarse
woollen shawl; and Rachel was
muffled in a grey cloak and hood
that had seen better days, and
gave her more the appearance
of an ordinary though decent
old woman, than of a lady's-maid.
Oh, what delight it was to
be thus seated aloft, rumbling
along the broad, sunshiny road,
with the fresh morning breeze
in my face, surrounded by an
unknown country, all smiling
- cheerfully, gloriously smiling
in the yellow lustre of those
early beams; with my darling
child in my arms, almost as happy
as myself, and my faithful friend
beside me: a prison and despair
behind me, receding further,
further back at every clatter
of the horses' feet; and liberty
and hope before! I could hardly
refrain from praising God aloud
for my deliverance, or astonishing
my fellow- passengers by some
surprising outburst of hilarity.
But the journey was a very
long one, and we were all weary
enough before the close of it.
It was far into the night when
we reached the town of L-, and
still we were seven miles from
our journey's end; and there
was no more coaching, nor any
conveyance to be had, except
a common cart, and that with
the greatest difficulty, for
half the town was in bed. And
a dreary ride we had of it, that
last stage of the journey, cold
and weary as we were; sitting
on our boxes, with nothing to
cling to, nothing to lean against,
slowly dragged and cruelly shaken
over the rough, hilly roads.
But Arthur was asleep in Rachel's
lap, and between us we managed
pretty well to shield him from
the cold night air.
At last we began to ascend
a terribly steep and stony lane,
which, in spite of the darkness,
Rachel said she remembered well:
she had often walked there with
me in her arms, and little thought
to come again so many years after,
under such circumstances as the
present. Arthur being now awakened
by the jolting and the stoppages,
we all got out and walked. We
had not far to go; but what if
Frederick should not have received
my letter? or if he should not
have had time to prepare the
rooms for our reception, and
we should find them all dark,
damp, and comfortless, destitute
of food, fire, and furniture,
after all our toil?
At length the grim, dark pile
appeared before us. The lane
conducted us round by the back
way. We entered the desolate
court, and in breathless anxiety
surveyed the ruinous mass. Was
it all blackness and desolation?
No; one faint red glimmer cheered
us from a window where the lattice
was in good repair. The door
was fastened, but after due knocking
and waiting, and some parleying
with a voice from an upper window,
we were admitted by an old woman
who had been commissioned to
air and keep the house till our
arrival, into a tolerably snug
little apartment, formerly the
scullery of the mansion, which
Frederick had now fitted up as
a kitchen. Here she procured
us a light, roused the fire to
a cheerful blaze, and soon prepared
a simple repast for our refreshment;
while we disencumbered ourselves
of our travelling- gear, and
took a hasty survey of our new
abode. Besides the kitchen, there
were two bedrooms, a good-sized
parlour, and another smaller
one, which I destined for my
studio, all well aired and seemingly
in good repair, but only partly
furnished with a few old articles,
chiefly of ponderous black oak,
the veritable ones that had been
there before, and which had been
kept as antiquarian relics in
my brother's present residence,
and now, in all haste, transported
back again.
The old woman brought my supper
and Arthur's into the parlour,
and told me, with all due formality,
that 'the master desired his
compliments to Mrs. Graham, and
he had prepared the rooms as
well as he could upon so short
a notice; but he would do himself
the pleasure of calling upon
her to-morrow, to receive her
further commands.'
I was glad to ascend the stern-looking
stone staircase, and lie down
in the gloomy, old-fashioned
bed, beside my little Arthur.
He was asleep in a minute; but,
weary as I was, my excited feelings
and restless cogitations kept
me awake till dawn began to struggle
with the darkness; but sleep
was sweet and refreshing when
it came, and the waking was delightful
beyond expression. It was little
Arthur that roused me, with his
gentle kisses. He was here, then,
safely clasped in my arms, and
many leagues away from his unworthy
father! Broad daylight illumined
the apartment, for the sun was
high in heaven, though obscured
by rolling masses of autumnal
vapour.
The scene, indeed, was not
remarkably cheerful in itself,
either within or without. The
large bare room, with its grim
old furniture, the narrow, latticed
windows, revealing the dull,
grey sky above and the desolate
wilderness below, where the dark
stone walls and iron gate, the
rank growth of grass and weeds,
and the hardy evergreens of preternatural
forms, alone remained to tell
that there had been once a garden,
- and the bleak and barren fields
beyond might have struck me as
gloomy enough at another time;
but now, each separate object
seemed to echo back my own exhilarating
sense of hope and freedom: indefinite
dreams of the far past and bright
anticipations of the future seemed
to greet me at every turn. I
should rejoice with more security,
to be sure, had the broad sea
rolled between my present and
my former homes; but surely in
this lonely spot I might remain
unknown; and then I had my brother
here to cheer my solitude with
his occasional visits.
He came that morning; and I
have had several interviews with
him since; but he is obliged
to be very cautious when and
how he comes; not even his servants
or his best friends must know
of his visits to Wildfell - except
on such occasions as a landlord
might be expected to call upon
a stranger tenant - lest suspicion
should be excited against me,
whether of the truth or of some
slanderous falsehood.
I have now been here nearly
a fortnight, and, but for one
disturbing care, the haunting
dread of discovery, I am comfortably
settled in my new home: Frederick
has supplied me with all requisite
furniture and painting materials:
Rachel has sold most of my clothes
for me, in a distant town, and
procured me a wardrobe more suitable
to my present position: I have
a second-hand piano, and a tolerably
well-stocked bookcase in my parlour;
and my other room has assumed
quite a professional, business-like
appearance already. I am working
hard to repay my brother for
all his expenses on my account;
not that there is the slightest
necessity for anything of the
kind, but it pleases me to do
so: I shall have so much more
pleasure in my labour, my earnings,
my frugal fare, and household
economy, when I know that I am
paying my way honestly, and that
what little I possess is legitimately
all my own; and that no one suffers
for my folly - in a pecuniary
way at least. I shall make him
take the last penny I owe him,
if I can possibly effect it without
offending him too deeply. I have
a few pictures already done,
for I told Rachel to pack up
all I had; and she executed her
commission but too well - for
among the rest, she put up a
portrait of Mr. Huntingdon that
I had painted in the first year
of my marriage. It struck me
with dismay, at the moment, when
I took it from the box and beheld
those eyes fixed upon me in their
mocking mirth, as if exulting
still in his power to control
my fate, and deriding my efforts
to escape.
How widely different had been
my feelings in painting that
portrait to what they now were
in looking upon it! How I had
studied and toiled to produce
something, as I thought, worthy
of the original! what mingled
pleasure and dissatisfaction
I had had in the result of my
labours! - pleasure for the likeness
I had caught; dissatisfaction,
because I had not made it handsome
enough. Now, I see no beauty
in it - nothing pleasing in any
part of its expression; and yet
it is far handsomer and far more
agreeable - far less repulsive
I should rather say - than he
is now: for these six years have
wrought almost as great a change
upon himself as on my feelings
regarding him. The frame, however,
is handsome enough; it will serve
for another painting. The picture
itself I have not destroyed,
as I had first intended; I have
put it aside; not, I think, from
any lurking tenderness for the
memory of past affection, nor
yet to remind me of my former
folly, but chiefly that I may
compare my son's features and
countenance with this, as he
grows up, and thus be enabled
to judge how much or how little
he resembles his father - if
I may be allowed to keep him
with me still, and never to behold
that father's face again - a
blessing I hardly dare reckon
upon.
It seems Mr. Huntingdon is
making every exertion to discover
the place of my retreat. He has
been in person to Staningley,
seeking redress for his grievances
- expecting to hear of his victims,
if not to find them there - and
has told so many lies, and with
such unblushing coolness, that
my uncle more than half believes
him, and strongly advocates my
going back to him and being friends
again. But my aunt knows better:
she is too cool and cautious,
and too well acquainted with
both my husband's character and
my own to be imposed upon by
any specious falsehoods the former
could invent. But he does not
want me back; he wants my child;
and gives my friends to understand
that if I prefer living apart
from him, he will indulge the
whim and let me do so unmolested,
and even settle a reasonable
allowance on me, provided I will
immediately deliver up his son.
But heaven help me! I am not
going to sell my child for gold,
though it were to save both him
and me from starving: it would
be better that he should die
with me than that he should live
with his father.
Frederick showed me a letter
he had received from that gentleman,
full of cool impudence such as
would astonish any one who did
not know him, but such as, I
am convinced, none would know
better how to answer than my
brother. He gave me no account
of his reply, except to tell
me that he had not acknowledged
his acquaintance with my place
of refuge, but rather left it
to be inferred that it was quite
unknown to him, by saying it
was useless to apply to him,
or any other of my relations,
for information on the subject,
as it appeared I had been driven
to such extremity that I had
concealed my retreat even from
my best friends; but that if
he had known it, or should at
any time be made aware of it,
most certainly Mr. Huntingdon
would be the last person to whom
he should communicate the intelligence;
and that he need not trouble
himself to bargain for the child,
for he (Frederick) fancied he
knew enough of his sister to
enable him to declare, that wherever
she might be, or however situated,
no consideration would induce
her to deliver him up.
30th. - Alas! my kind neighbours
will not let me alone. By some
means they have ferreted me out,
and I have had to sustain visits
from three different families,
all more or less bent upon discovering
who and what I am, whence I came,
and why I have chosen such a
home as this. Their society is
unnecessary to me, to say the
least, and their curiosity annoys
and alarms me: if I gratify it,
it may lead to the ruin of my
son, and if I am too mysterious
it will only excite their suspicions,
invite conjecture, and rouse
them to greater exertions - and
perhaps be the means of spreading
my fame from parish to parish,
till it reach the ears of some
one who will carry it to the
Lord of Grassdale Manor.
I shall be expected to return
their calls, but if, upon inquiry,
I find that any of them live
too far away for Arthur to accompany
me, they must expect in vain
for a while, for I cannot bear
to leave him, unless it be to
go to church, and I have not
attempted that yet: for - it
may be foolish weakness, but
I am under such constant dread
of his being snatched away, that
I am never easy when he is not
by my side; and I fear these
nervous terrors would so entirely
disturb my devotions, that I
should obtain no benefit from
the attendance. I mean, however,
to make the experiment next Sunday,
and oblige myself to leave him
in charge of Rachel for a few
hours. It will be a hard task,
but surely no imprudence; and
the vicar has been to scold me
for my neglect of the ordinances
of religion. I had no sufficient
excuse to offer, and I promised,
if all were well, he should see
me in my pew next Sunday; for
I do not wish to be set down
as an infidel; and, besides,
I know I should derive great
comfort and benefit from an occasional
attendance at public worship,
if I could only have faith and
fortitude to compose my thoughts
in conformity with the solemn
occasion, and forbid them to
be for ever dwelling on my absent
child, and on the dreadful possibility
of finding him gone when I return;
and surely God in His mercy will
preserve me from so severe a
trial: for my child's own sake,
if not for mine, He will not
suffer him to be torn away.
November 3rd. - I have made
some further acquaintance with
my neighbours. The fine gentleman
and beau of the parish and its
vicinity (in his own estimation,
at least) is a young . . . .
* * * * *
Here it ended. The rest was
torn away. How cruel, just when
she was going to mention me!
for I could not doubt it was
your humble servant she was about
to mention, though not very favourably,
of course. I could tell that,
as well by those few words as
by the recollection of her whole
aspect and demeanour towards
me in the commencement of our
acquaintance. Well! I could readily
forgive her prejudice against
me, and her hard thoughts of
our sex in general, when I saw
to what brilliant specimens her
experience had been limited.
Respecting me, however, she
had long since seen her error,
and perhaps fallen into another
in the opposite extreme: for
if, at first, her opinion of
me had been lower than I deserved,
I was convinced that now my deserts
were lower than her opinion;
and if the former part of this
continuation had been torn away
to avoid wounding my feelings,
perhaps the latter portion had
been removed for fear of ministering
too much to my self-conceit.
At any rate, I would have given
much to have seen it all - to
have witnessed the gradual change,
and watched the progress of her
esteem and friendship for me,
and whatever warmer feeling she
might have; to have seen how
much of love there was in her
regard, and how it had grown
upon her in spite of her virtuous
resolutions and strenuous exertions
to - but no, I had no right to
see it: all this was too sacred
for any eyes but her own, and
she had done well to keep it
from me.
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