Jessie Arnold : or, The Murder at the old well. A romance

Preface

.From the Patronage bestowed upon Jessie Arnold by the Public, we have reason to believe our labour has not been in vain ; and that we have succeeded in contributing to the leisure moments of some thousands, amusement and instruction. The example of Jessie Arnold, the heroine of our romance, gentle readers, may be imitated by all who chose the good and nob!e course of rejecting every temptation to evil, and firmly adhering to every noble virtue. The example of the once happy father being dragged down into the abyss of despair from the paths of rectitude and comfort, by addicting himself to that monster curse, Gaming, may serve as a warning beacon to the sorely tried and lempled of the male portion ot our renders. London, 1S52. MURDER AT THE OLD WELL. A ROMANCE. ledge that it was tine to be uo aud stirring A September sun \va? s'ninUing sweetly upon tie houses, giving even the artificial town jomething the appearance of naturul beauty. Throngs of brilliant carriages, filled with gaily-dressed persons, filled the streets, the sides of which were lined with pedestrians ;

Chapter I. The Gaming-house

St. James's-street was all lite and gaiety, The hour was four in the afternoon, and the fashionable world had condescended to acknow TT9. I In fact, people are very much in their hearts of opinion with the lady who declared her firm conviction that poor common people were as different from people of means and respecta bility as earthenware pipkins from fine Caina. This lady desired the footman once to order tho nursery-maid to bring the children to tho dining-room, when, as a satire upon her exclu siveness, John roared out — "Earthenware, briBg down the best china." But, to return from this digression, there was one houso on the right hand side of St. James's-street, the inhabitants of which could have had but a small taste for ihe beautiful sunlight that was streaming through the mild and serene air, making the most dingy parts of the great city beautiful by casting over them the splendour of its beims, for the blinds wore drawn down for the most part, and through them came glancing the light from lamps and i handeliers, struggling to show itself in the sweet ,-nnshine, and losing sadly, most sadly by the comparison.

There would bave been yet ample time for any indoor occupation requiring light without resorting to artificial means of illumination, and, to our thinkiog, that last hour of day when the sou seems taking alingering and rrgretful ifave of the werlJ, is the most beautiful of tho whole four-and-twenty, if we exclude thc first heur of a summer's morning, wheu all nature is awakened by the first beams from the silvery east. hurrying onwards, as if the fate of nations depended upon their speed. Mingled, however, with this fast moving mass wero aristocratic loungers, who thought it awfully grand to move at a snail's pace, and with an action as if every joint in their bodies ached. There were idlers, too, of another sort— those who were compelled so to be by dire necessity, and whose listless, sauntering gait arose from want of some object to stimulate them to exertion persons many of whom would gladly have been tbe most active of the active, but they laboured under the misfortune of baviBg no particular marketable talent which they could give to society in exchange for the means of existence.

The step:, too, of many handsome and spacious edifices ted their occupants in the shape of idling exquisites, who preferred that slight elevation above the mob in which to study an attitude, or adopt one previously studied. These persons were discoursing with the lispirg affected frivolity of their truly contemptible class, and saying nothings as glibly and with as great an air of satisfaction as if they were really of any importance. And amid all this living, breathing, moving mass of humanity it was astonishing to see and note, which might be easily done, the ntter selfishness that pervaded all classes. Each was intent upon its own particular objects and pursuits — each was utterly heedless what effect those objects and pursuits had upon others. Not a shadow even of that instinctive I'celirg of humanity which seems in some of the lower animals to hind an individual to its species could he found.

The moan of distress jared not upon the fine nervous sensibility of the fine lady, although a handkerchief impregnated with eau de voilels, instead of marxanam, would probably proiuce quite grievous conse quences. The appeal of a starving fellow creature had no effect upon the eiquisite who would have fainted at the catastrophe of some common weed being mingled with the pure leaves of his havannah. In large social communities, as they are face tiously called, there is no sociality at all. Every man wraps himself in tho impregnable armour of selfishness. So was it strikingly manifest on tho particular afternoon to which we wish to call the reader's attention. There were dukes aud beggars, countesses and paupers, rags and gilding. In one hour some specimen of every kind of misery and of every kind of splendour and ostentation might have boen encountered; yet all passed each ether as if there had been no such thing as a community of feeling, as if mankind by its Maker was divided into different classes, formed of different materials, the rich and tho titled, of course, i being constructed of a sweet and tender texture differing widely from the poor and nameless.

Still, bewever, as wo have said, that house was lighted up within, and tho Venetian blinds closed as much as possible in order to exclude the scene without with all its "charms, and all ita subjects of sad or happy contemplation. Muny a passing glance was east at its m igr. , ficeo t architecture, and some of those glances were sad and full of mourn'ul meanirg, whilo otl.or faces assumed smiles, but not smites of a mirthful character — no, they wererathcr those of triumph — some triumph ©f an unholy, unblessed character, which the heart has to deceive itself in beforo it can really think it one. None lingered on the door-steps of that house but occasionally a kaggirJ, pale, trcmhli-g man would leave it, and with stajgcrir.g gait, and strange despairing gesture^, hastily seek refuge from the popular gaze down some narrow turning — then again, sometimes one would come from the bouse flushed with the pr>Je of some great success, and look about him with an air of easy confidence upon the throngs in tho while his band would be buried deeply in his pocket, clutching the treasure he had just wre?ted from some unhappy wretch in the gaming house.

Yes, that hou-e was a gaming-house — a deu into which no kindly sympathy ever entered — tbe grave of love, honour, honesty, and every nolle feeling of humanity. Oh! it was well to shut out from those meretricious, gilded saloons the bright, beauti lul, and glorious light of Heaven, for strangely would that sweet sunshine have janed with the angry, revengeful, selfish feelings that were engendered in that place. Perchanceit might have fallen upon the eyes of some wretch wavering on the brink of ruin, and, reminding him of other scenes and happier days, havo wooed him from his headlong, horrible career, back again to virtue and to peace. Ob, yes, it was well in that place to shut out the light of Heaven. with saddened steps ascended to the open doors of that den of vice an 1 horror. A much more jealous watch than was ap. parent was maintained at the entrance to that mansion, for jnst about half-a-dozen paces within the hall were two green doors, carefully watched by a porter who sat by them, and allowed no one to pass who could not satisfy him either at once from appearance, or from representations, that he was not a dangerous customer, hut one who bona fide came there to play.

The young girl attempted to open one of these doors, but she was immediately challenged by the Cerberus, who cried,— " Hilloa ! hilloa ! what now ? What do yon want?'' If, however, on the occasion wo speak of there was abundant selfishness, abundant heart less vanity in St. James's-street, there was like wise a something that redeemed the mass of humanity in some measure from the stigma of being totally bad. There wa3 a heart beauti ful in its fresh goo Iness and simplicity, as when it came from the hands of its Maker — one form upon which the sweet evening sun might well shine, borrowing new beauty from the graceful features it gilded. The form was that of a young girl, tall of her age, and yet scarce numbering sixteen summers — graceful as a young fawn — beautiful as the gorgeous imaginations of a poet, and yet sad— sad as if some heavy blow of fate had fallen upon her heart and dimmed its brightest energies ; she slowly paced down that gorgeous street in the direction of the fatal mansion we have been describing.

" My father," was the roply, and she fixed her eyes upon his face with au expression of unutterable woe, such even as he quailed before. " Your — your father," he added, after a moment's pause ; "oh I we have nobody'* fathers here. This is a place only for gen tlemen — you cau't pass in." " I have come to see my father, Captain Arnold, and I must pass." " But my duty is to stop you." "My errand is higher— holier than your duty, and I come to save the father of five young children from destruction. Io the sacred name of justice, of humanity, I demand admittance here." " Captain Arnold— tall— pale— good look ing?" "Y'es — jes. He is here?" " He is. But I tell you what, miss, it's as much as my place is worth to let you pass. Neither can I send to the captain. If yoa want to see him, you must even wait till he comes out, and that woa't be oa this side of twelve o'clock, I '11 warrant." *' For mercy's sake, let me pass.

You know not what effect my thus seeking him may pro duce. Me sudden appearance, and my urgent appeal to him, may draw him at once and for ever from the vortex into which he is plunging. Oh ! for mercy's sake, let me pass 1" " I cannot." s 'When she neared it, she paused, and half turned as if seeking advice or direction from one near her. A boy stepped up to her. He was attired as a half-page, half-groom, and was in that intermediate state between boyhood and manhood, when it is difficult to say what ort of animal the creature will ultimately ecome. " Y'es, missus," he said, " that's the place — I watched the governor, missus. He is there as sure as eggs is eggs," " You can wait for me, Charles.'' " Yes, missus1, Oh ! wice, wice— wicious Tfice." The young girl ascended the steps of the magnificent house, while the boy sat down on the lowest of them, and appeared in avery philosophical manner to be contemplating the throng of passengers that hurried by. • Nay, think again.

If my exertions should be blessed with success, you will share in the blessing of that success, as having facilitated my endeavours. Again I beseech — implore you to let me pass." "What's all this?" said a gentleminly looking man, in the undress of an officer of the guards, suddenly pushing open the green doors from the interior of the mansion. " What's all this about, eh ?" His reflections appeared to be rather of a melancholy order, for be shook his head a great many times, and asked himself in tbe most metaphysical tone imaginable,— " What is life — what is death — what's masters and missuses, aad what's servants— Tfhat's nothing ?" " The young lady, sir, wants to pass into the saloon," said the porter, in a tone of respectful deference. As these questions are very difficult to answer, we shall leave Charles to comment upon them at leisure, and follow the young gir), who "A young lady !— oh, my dear, absurd.

You really must not think of such a thing, and nnd yet— it would be a glorious bit of fun. I , tell you what, Davies, you let her in — I'll j boh! you harmless ; and, my dear, I dare fay i you will give me a kiss from those sweet pant- I ing lips for the accommodation." "Sir !" said Jessie Arnold, for snch was hor scarcely bave numbered twenty summers; bnt Jessie thought she never should forget the terrible expression of his face ;— handsome it certainly was, in features, but upon it there was such an expression of deep agonizing despair, that it was indeed terrible to look npon. He held by the gilt balustrades at the head of the stairs for a few brief moments, while deep sols came from his breast. name, " by your garb I mistook you for gentleman." " Mistook me ?" " Yes, sir. The son of a king were con temptible if he insulted a child who came to such a place as this on the errand of attempting to save a father from perdition."

" I beg your pardon," said the offieer, in a low tone. " What I said was said heedlessly. Davies, on my responsibility, let this young lady go to the saloon.'1 The officer hastily descended the steps, with difficulty avoiding treading upon Charles, who very unceremoniously asked him if he know where he was going, and walked rapidly away. " Well, miss," said the porter, "I shall let you by. But you hit him rather hard." *' What mean you?" "•Why, don't you know him ?" " Indeed, I do not. How should I know b>m?" " My poor — poor motherl" he gasped. That thought seemed to he too much for him, and in an instant he drew a pocket-pistol from his breast, and presented it at his head. To rush forward and arrest bis arm, was the work of a moment to Jessie. In the action her bonnet fell back upon her head, so that the whole of her exquisitely-chiselled countenance was visible, as well as such a mass of sunny auburn ringlets, that the despairing man looked for a moment as if he were in a dream, and quite bewitched by the wondrous beauty he so> beheld in that most unlikely place.

" Hope," said Jessie ; " all may not be lost. Hope — hope. I have come to save one ; by Heaven's grace, I may save two." The pistol dropped from his grasp, and a flood of tears came to his reliof. He clasped his hands and appeared about to speak, hut Jessie felt satisfied that the par&xjsm of his despair had passed away, and hesitating nos longer, she walked on and opened the doer o the saloon. " Whew ! Why it's Fitzclarence, the king's eldest son ; bnt go on. There will be a row, and no sort of mistake at all. Take the first turning to the right when you reach the head of the stairs, and whatever you do, miss, be so good as to come away again as soon as ever you can, because, you know— eh ? — oh I she's gone — she's in a mighty hurry — what a row there will be." What a blsze of real beanty and brilliancy of decoration burst npon ber eyes, as she stood upon the threshold of that gorgeous roonf.

The lighting was brilliant, and yet had n» dazzling effect on the eyes, for the interposition of ground glasses, tinted a pale gold colour, assorted well with the style of decoration ofthe apartment, and took off all appearance of glare. The most costly and exquisite draperies hung from the walls and windows, interspersed with looking-glasses, se arranged as to multiply every object in the room, as well as its owu space indefinitely. The floor was covered with carpeting that made the heaviest tread per fectly noiseless, so that the numerous guests seemod moving through tbe air rather -than walking;, as they lounged from one part of the room to the other. A confused hum of voices came to Jessie's tars as sbe reached the landing-place of the gorgeously carved stairease, and that sound, if she had received no particular direction, would have ampiy sufficed to conduct to the saloon, where large fortunes were lost and won, and where more guilty exultation, and more terrible despair were witnessed ia one week tban in thc surrounding ten miles of country, probablv, in the t^hole twelvemonths.

Laughter, now and then an oath, the con fused bum of conversation, and various noises contingent upon the games that were beiDg played, reached Jessie most painfully. A deep sense of oppression came across her heart, and she was compelled to pause for some few moments before she could recover strength of mind and body sufficient to go through with her self-imposed task. While sbe thas paused a door opened, and within the apartment it led to she could see a flsod of light, and a number of persons dispersed about at different tables. The person wbo had afforded such a transient glimpse ef the apartment into which she was so soon herself to venture, was a young man — indeed, he could What pains bsd been taken to stiil tbe voice of conscience, honour, prudence, and common feeling, in ihat saloon.

The senses were at tacked ty al! that beauty and magnificence in order that remo-se might, along with reflection, be stifled. Then, too, there were costlv and rare wises, to be used by the visitors at dis cretion, so that a stimulant was always at liana to steep in oblivion the senses of the unlucky gamester. For a moment or more no one seemeu to notice the sudden appearance of Je;sie Ar:old, and then some players at a table near toe door appeared all at onoe to be aware of the strange fact that a young and beautiful girl bad found her way into tbat gilded den of iniquity. With various exclamations they rose, and the attention of eveiy one in the room was immediately attracted to where, pale as a marble statue, stood Jessie.eagerly scanning countenance after countenance, in search oi the one so deeply, sadly interesting to her.

" Father, father," she said, as ia a remote corner %f the apartment sbe fancied she saw the object esher search. With a cry of surprise, a gentlemanly man sprang towards her, heedless of who he hustled aside in his course. To describe the exquisite tenderness with which these words were uttered wonld be impossible. The tears tbat accompanied them — tbe appropriate and natcral gestures — all combined to produce an effect, even npon tbe most iron nerves of the men present, which would scarcely have been exceeded had they suddenly heard the last trumpet summoning them to judgment. Some slunk back out of sight, while others looked in the faces of their companions, to note what effect was produced in others by the words that nearly paralysed themselves. But if the feelings ef utter strangers were thns strongly acted upon by the innocence aud natural eloquence of that young girl, bow much greater may the effect be supposed to be upon the heart of him who possessed all the feelings cf a father, thus to see his gentle and beautiful child reduced to the sad necessity of so pleading to him in the presence cf strangers.

Captain Arnold was not destitute ofthe finer feelings of humanity. In fact, it is not unfrequently found that tbe most generous and noble sensibilities, and many of the very highest attributes of mind, are found associated with that insane love of play, which in its end must lead to degradation and despair. We have no wish to exalt any vice ; but there are seme which certainly belong more particularly to better natures, and hence the terrible consequences of gambling, as it generally makes desolate a heart that else would be surrounded by domestic virtues and felicities. Twice Captain Arnold tried to speak ; bat his voice failed him, and when he did articulate, all he could say was,— "Jessie — Jessie !" " Jessie 1" he exclaimed ; " for God's sake ! what — what — bronghtyou here ? The— the — children " *" "Are well, father," said Jessie; " bnt the father is sick of a mortal disease.

Let me be the humble instrument of Heaven to save you." She sunk on her knees at his feet, and while he looked npon the beaming and beautiful countenance of his child with remorse and self accusation, she poured forth; in all the simple eloquence of natire, her earnest prayers lo him to save himself, and all that was dear to him, by renonnciag the gaming-table, its terrible allurements, and its, as surely as death, terrible end. Even those men who were inured to vice in its every form, stood abashed and trembling before her. Not a werd was whispered in that saloon while she'spoke, such a magic power have innocence and virtue over even the worst and most degraded ofthe human species. I " Father," she said, " come away. Think of those who love you — of those who have no other mortal hope but in your love.

Think, father, of my poor mother, and the smile of joy that lingered even in death upon her wan cheek, at the thought, expressed with her last breath, that she was leaving her dear children with a father who would be all to them that the tenderest parent can be. Even then, in our deep affliction, father, there was a ray of happiness about our hearth, because you blessed it with loving tenderness; we learned to think of onr mother's loss with a chastened sorrow, because it was an affliction from Heaven — but now — now we weep and try to comfort each other through long, weary nights, and you come I not to us. . Your cheek is pale — anxiety and discomfort sit upon your brew — your hands are fevered — father — come — come — come to those who love yeu, and find true happiness in their gentle kisses, kind caresses, and murmured I prayers.

You hear me, and are moved. I can I sec you are. You turn away your head, father, j to hide your emotions. If you have tears, [ believe them blessed, holy drops. Father — dear, dear father — forsake this place, now and for ever." I " Father," she added, " I am successful. Y'ou feel as I would wish you, as all who love you would wish you. Once again the light of joy will illumine your home, and we shall be so very, very happy. A flood cf tears came to her relief, and she wept hysterically upon her father's breast, for he had raised her from her suppliant posture, and supported her in his arms. One man, then, did succeed in shaking of the spell in which the words of Jessie hai hound the senses of all. That man was a roue of the first water — a nobleman — a notorious gambler — and as notoriously a bad principled Individual as could he by any possibility picked out of his class.

" Why, Arnold," be said, " d — n me — whiz ! Sink me if you haven't got to have your reverge vet," " Peace, my lord," said Arnold, waving his hand. " Let not this innocent child's ears be polluted by your words. If you must speak, Marquis of Rollington, let it be as a gentleman, and not io your present strain." "A gentleman, sir?'' ; OR, THE 6 "Ay, a gentleman. Y'ou need assume no threatening attitude. I do not intend to quairel, nor to have what you call my revenge." "Ha, ha !" cried Lord Rollington, witli an affected laugh. " Arnold has been bitten by a mad girl, and is beginning to preach." An angry flush came across the countenance of Captain Arnold, and he would probably have made a reply, which, according to the vicious code of honour among military men, would have provoked serious ulterior consequences, bat bis daughter still clung to his arm, saying — " Father — father ! behold one of the con sequences of gambling in a forced association With such a man as that," Thc Marquis of Rolliagton quailed beneath the glance tbat Jessie bent upon him, and her outstretched finger pointing in his face, seemed as if it cairied some deadly influence to his ■very heart.

" An actress, by Jove," he said, making a great eljort to rally. " The scene is well got DP" " Jessie, you have conquered," whispered Captain Arnold. With a gush of joy she threw herself upon his neck. The tears with which she bedewed his cheek were those of joy — she forgot everything but that she was rescuing her poor father from the sc?nc of dissipation iato which he had too heedlessly allowed himself to be allured. " Come away, come away," she sobbed. • Ob, father, yau know not how happy those few simple words have made mœ — take a last adieu of this place." He glanced round him upon the brilliant decorations of that magnificent saloon, and tben raising his voice, he said— " Gentlemen, farewell. The little scene that has been enacted here to-day will, from some of you, provoke contempt — but, remember, while the coeduct of my child may adorn a tale, it wid likewise point a moral, and in your remarks upon her, and the heroism which prompted her to rescue me from the toils that were clinging round me, it will be well, like wise, to remember that I am a soldier and a gentleman, jealous of my honour and ready to delend it.

Come, Jessie, come." "A thousand pounds to a hundred," cried the Marquis of Rollington, that " Captain Arnold is in this room again within ten days from now."

Chapter II. The Murder

Near the little village of Mortlake stool a villa residence, which had fallen into such miserable decay, that although many adventur ous people, who fancied themselves fond of tho picturesque, came to look at it wiih a view of tenanting it, ttiey had all gone away again without troubling the agent in whose hands it had been placed. For a long time an announcement on a board at the end of the lane down which the house was situated, had stated that it could be viewed by " cards only," and an old woman had possession in order to let the cards iu; but sbe went the way of all flesh in due course of time, aud the house remained unlet. Then tbe board crumbled away, and fell down, after which the front door of the cottage residence itself hung by one hinge, and several of the shutters themselves adopted the same change of attitude, so that, cards or no cards, any one could walk in who liked, the only hindrance being the spiders' webs, which hung in thick festoons along the passage.

Neighbours, who were lax in principle, had from time to time stolen the choicest plants from the garden, and, as no one comp.ained of tbe larceny, they by degrees camo to the com moner sort, so that, at length, there was not a dhrub worth a few pence left in the place. Ono night then some one stole the copper, and the other neighbours, in great indignation, begun upon the stoves, which rapidly disappeared. A dead set was then made upon the locks and the bells, and the window fastenings; theu somo one cus down a tree, and walked off with it, andsome one else took off a few floor boards for fire wood. This was too bad, and a man, who lived nearest at hand, exclaimed loudly agiinst the heartlessness of robbery, that \ery night going him-elf, and wrenching off their hinges four or five doors tor his own use.

Things wore at this pass, and there was every probability of the little villa disappearing by degrees (rom the face of the earth, when it suddenly acquired a aaost unenviable reputation, that kept it without visitors for some years. It was a tempestuous evening in autumn upon which the occurrence happened, and it at once and for ever appeared to have put a stop to the depredations upon Merton Villa, whieh was thc name of tbe neglected residence. For some weeks a rumour had got abroad io the neighbourhood that strange noises bad been heard to proceed from the Villa after nightfall, and certain it is that an occasional flash of light hal been observed from its wtnpows, and when thoso who saw it had repaired "Done !" said the dissolute Lord Rouse. " Play, gentlemen, play." Io a few moments Jessie Arnold and her father wore iu St. James's street, which was still faintiy illuminated by the setting sun. in haste to the place, no one was to be found, ' nor any indications rf the presence of any one.

These occurrences excited disagreeable suspicions; but that was all, for, as yet, no one could say that those who evidently had made visits to Merton Villa where a whit wor=e than the kind neighbours who had made such active exertions for its demolition. This quiescent state of things was not made to last, and the time was fast approaching ' when something very different from the speculation of fixture and timber stealers was about ■ to be enacted within the walls of that deserted ; house. It would seem, too, that either a pecu- I liar night was chosen on which to perpetrate I a very awful deed, or that the elements them \ selves viewed with herror the dreadful crime they were compelled to witness. 1 It was towards nightfall that two men had walked into a public house near the village of Mortlake ; after partaking of some spirits, they produced a large flask bottle, which they desired should be filled with brandy.