A Fatal Silence ... New edition

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A FATAL SILENCE ' LET ME HELP YOU, MISS STAFFORD.' Page 12. A FATAL SILENCE BY FLORENCE MARRYAT AUTHOR OF 'LOVE'S CONFLICT,' ' veronique,' etc., etc., etc. NE W EDITION. GRIFFITH FARRAN & CO., LIMITED NEWBERY HOUSE, CHARING CROSS ROAD LONDON The Rights of Translation and of Reproduction are reserved. CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE I. An Unwelcome Meeting, . . 5 II. Mr Gribble's Discovery, . . 16 III. A Good Broad Hint, . . . 24 IV. The Cross-Examination, . . 32 V. The Confession, . . . -41 VI. Highbridge Farm,. ... 51 VII. Paula leaves Deepdale,. . .61 VIII. At Grassdene, . . . -73 IX. All Doubt dispelled, . . -83 X. A Solemn Promise, . . 97 XI. Hal breaks the News to Deepdale,. 109 XII. Mrs Gribble's Tea-Party, . . 121 XIII. Paula is married, . . .129 XIV. A Triumphant Return, . . . . 141 XV. Paula's Visitors, . . . .156 XVI.

Lady Bristowe, . . . .169 XVII. A Mysterious Loss, . . .186 XVIII. The Widow's Stratagem, . . 200 XIX. The Scandal spreads, . . .213 Contents. IV CHAP. rAGE XX. A Valiant Partisan, . . .222 XXI. New Prospects, . . . .231 XXII. The Doctor and the Widow, . . 245 XXIII. The Final Breach, . . .258 XXIV. A Terrible Discovery, . . .273 XXV. The Fate of Paulie, . . .286 XXVI. On the Trail, . . . .297 XXVII. The Wife's Deception, . . . 308 XXVIII. An Anonymous Letter, . . .322 XXIX. The Denouement, . . -335

Chapter I. An

unwelcome meeting. Market day at Haltham, and the primitive little town in an uproar. Huge oxen, with shaggy coats and wide spreading horns, were being driven along the road, and floundering in their dismay against any luckless pas senger that crossed their path. Meek sheep, with their lambs trotting by their side and all baa-ing in con cert, followed after, whilst ducks and geese quacked and hissed, and the ploughboys and farming maidens shouted at each other with scarcely less discordant noise. Miss Stafford was glad to be above it all. She stood on the rustic pathway, which was raised several feet above the road, and was protected by stout green posts connected by iron chains, on which the country children loved to swing. Lottie and Carrie Gribble, who had been left in her charge, had run into the very midst of the excitement, and she looked as concerned as a hen whose foster ducklings have taken to the water, as she drew her dainty cambric skirts closely around her, to prevent contact with the dirty crowd, and called to them to return to her side.

Market day was the one great event of the week to the in habitants of Haltham, but Miss Stafford came from the neighbouring village of Deepdale, seven miles off, and was not used to so much bustle. She looked annoyed as she was elbowed and pushed by farming men and market women eager to reach their stalls, or to inspect the tempting array of articles exhibited in the shop windows for their benefit. There was only one shop of each kind in Haltham, so that the spirit of competition did not run high. Mr. Spring, the stationer, was stand ing at his door, rubbing his hands and smiling, as Miss Stafford called to the Gribble girls. He knew her well. She was the certificated schoolmistress of Deep dale, and all the slates and copy books and pens and ink for the use of the school were bought at his shop.

"Ah, Miss Stafford," he exclaimed, " anything in my line to-day ? I have just received the choicest selec tion of hymn books. Won't you step in and look at them ?" "In a moment, Mr. Spring — indeed, I have a long list for you. But I must wait for Lottie and Carrie Gribble. They are very naughty. They have run right across the road. And you know how very particular Mrs. Gribble is." Mr. Spring lifted his hands and eyes as though to in timate that no one knew it better than himself, but at that moment quite a little crowd entered his shop, where he sold all sorts of fancy articles, and he was compelled to go and attend to them. Presently, Miss Stafford, having recaptured the children, two ugly little animals of eight and ten, followed in his wake, and took her stand by the counter till he could attend to her.

She looked singularly interesting as she did so, and very different in appearance from those around her. Indeed, she was more than interesting, she was a very handsome young woman of about five-and-twenty, but she seemed to have taken great pains to conceal her beauty. She could not hide her soft, white skin, nor her long fringed, dark-blue eyes, but her mass of reddish-brown hair was strained off her face in a most unbecoming manner, and tucked away at the back of her head, and she wore a coarse straw bonnet which almost concealed her features. Her slight figure was plainly draped in a lilac cambric gown, covered with a summer shawl ; but there was an unmistakeable air of refinement about her — to those who knew how to read the signs — that her dowdy attire had no power to take away, and which made it difficult to believe that she was only a village schoolmistress.

Some people in Deepdale (but they were mostly women) thought that Mr. Gribble and Mr. Axworthy (who were the churchwardens of the place) had not acted with their usual discretion in engaging Miss Stafford to superintend the education of the rising generation. They considered she was too young, and ■ — well, certainly not too pretty, for they saw* nothing at all in her — but too flighty and "wool-gathering" to hold so responsible a position, and they prophesied that no good would come of it. So far the flightiness had not been apparent, but Miss Stafford's thoughts certainly seemed to be oftener away from her work than interested in it. She toiled through the monoto nous routine day after day with unswerving fidelity, but she had a dreamy and abstracted air that looked as if her heart and head did not go hand in hand.

Her beautiful eyes were very sad too, and there was an unaccountably pathetic droop at the corners of her mouth — unaccountable, that is, to the matrons who were set over her and watched her so closely. What, indeed, could anyone wish for more than Miss Stafford possessed ? A most excellent and responsible position, mistress of Deepdale school, with three rooms all to herself under the same roof, gas and water free, and sixty pounds a year. Why, it was a little fortune in itself, and many excellent Christian women would be thankful for it. And when the married ladies of Deep dale said "Christian," they emphasised the word to such a degree that anyone would have thought that Miss Staf ford was a heathen. However, she had obtained the appointment, and held it, and here she was at Mr. Spring's counter with a list of school necessaries' in her hand.

"And what may be your pleasure, miss?" asked Mr. Spring as she approached him. "Oh, I want so many things, Mr. Spring, I think I had better wait till you have served your other custom ers. There is no hurry. I will look over some of these picture books till you are more at leisure." "Teacher! teacher!" cried Carrie Gribble, tugging at her sleeve, "get us some of them ciphering books with red and blue covers — will yer ? " " TJiose ciphering books, my dear," corrected Miss Stafford in a low voice. "No; we don't^ require any to-day. You must wait till another time." "Teacher," exclaimed the other torment, in a nasal twang, "buy me a ball. I want that big 'un in the corner. Tell 'im to reach it down." "Hush, Lottie, you must not be so rude. Your papa has given me no permission to buy you anything.

Who is to pay for the ball ? " "Why can'tyou ?" replied the child rudely. "Because I do not choose to do so," said Miss Staf ford firmly. "Sit down at once, and be good, or 1 shall inform your papa of your behaviour." The two children obeyed, for there was some thing in the teacher's manner which they dared not dis pute ; but they sat together sulkily, and watched with the keenest attention everything that took place. As Miss Stafford turned from them to examine a pile of illustrated children's books, something touched her elbow. A farmer's wife, in pressing forward to ask for a bottle of ink and a penholder, had squeezed the baby she carried — a bouncing boy of a twelvemonth old — against the teacher. The child chuckled and cooed. Miss Stafford turned to look at it, and a wonderful trans formation seemed to take place in the expression of her features.

The stern look, almost of disgust, certainly of impatience, with which she had spoken to the little Gribbles faded away, and a sad but heavenly smile beamed on her face instead. She stretched out her hand and laid it on the infant's uncovered head. The boy chuckled again good-temperedly. Miss Stafford stooped and kissed him silently. " Lor' ! " said Lottie to Carrie, under her breath, "just look at teacher kissing that baby ! She never kissed one of us. I'll tell maos that as soon as we get home." At that moment a burly man, dressed in a suitof serge, beneath the open jacket of which might be seen a knitted woollen vest, rolled into the little shop, and being unable to approach the counter, bawled at the top of his voice — " Here, mister. Hand us over a couple o' sheets of paper and some ct«velopes, will you ?

I only came into the town to-day, and can't get at my togs. Why ! " —he continued as he caught sight of Miss Stafford's face, which had turned deadly white upon his entrance — " God bless us and save us ! It's madame. " " No, no ! " cried Miss Stafford, shrinking backward as the stranger extended his hand, "you are mistaken. You must mean someone else." "Mistaken!" repeated the man, who was evidently a seaman, "mistaken, madame! Why, I'd know you in a thousand." The teacher threw a hurried glance towards the corner where the Gribble girls sat with open eyes and ears, and seemed suddenly to think belter of her first intention. " Of course," she said, with a nervous laugh, "I know you now— perfectly— and— and— I should like to speak to you. Come this way; we can finish our shopping afterwards," and she slipped out of the door and stood upon the pathway. ' ' Where have you come from ?

" she asked with trembling lips as soon as they were alone. " Well, madame— — " he commenced. " Oh, pray don't call me by that name," she rejoined. "I am known here only as Miss Stafford. I am a schoolmistress at Deepdale, and I want to forget everything else." "I see," replied the sailor. "And you're doing well, I hope, and pretty comfortable." "Oh, yes, I have peace, and that is all I strive for. Brunt, you must not tell anyone you saw me here." " Well, I don't know as I'm likely to be put in the way of it. It was quite an accident my coming across you. I'm just home from China, and I thought I'd take a look at my old mother afore I started again. When I came to Haltham I found I couldn't get a train on to Bonnysett (that's our place) till six to-morrow morning, so I thought I'd have a walk round the market.

And to think I should have come acrost you — and bless you ! — not looking a day older for all that's happened." "Yes, yes; but I cannot stop. I came over with some friends, and they may call for me at any moment." "And you're a school teacher. Well, to think of it. It wasn't much in our thoughts aboard the Lily ofChris tiansand, was it now ? " Miss Stafford shuddered visibly. "Oh, don't speak of them — those terrible days! Thank God that they are over for ever. Good-bye, Brunt. I wish you all prosperity, but I must go." " I should like to have had a word or two with you, though," said Seth Brunt, stroking his enorrrious beard. "Now that we've come across each other again, I've got one or two things to tell you that I think you ought to know." "Not about him!" she ejaculated, with scared eyes.

"Yes, madame — I beg your pardon, I means Miss Stafford — about him. It won't poison you to hear it, you know, and I was always his friend, and always shall be. Now, where can I see you this evening?" Her face blanched, but she stood her ground. "Nowhere. It is impossible. I live miles away from here. You could not come. It is too far. " "Oh, no, it is not. I will walk over this evening." Then, noticing her perturbation, he added : "Of what are you afraid ? " "Of nothing," she answered proudly. "Nothing can harm me now." "You are right, madame. Do you live alone?" "Yes, quite alone. Even my little maid goes home at night to her mother. If you must speak to me, you will find me, after seven o'clock, in the schoolhouse at Deepdale. Only, say nothing of this to anybody, if you ever cared for me.

" "You know that I did care — that I do care," replied Brunt roughly as she went back into the shop. Her first fearful glance was directed towards the odious Gribble children, whispering and grinning to each other. "Now, Mr. Spring," she said as she held out a paper to him with a trembling hand, "these are the articles I require. Will you have them packed at once to go home in Mr. Gribble's phaeton?" "Teacher," cried Lottie, catching at her skirt, "who's the man with the long beard ? " A FATAL SILL7NCE. 11 "No one whom you know, my dear," replied Miss Stafford quietly, although her face flushed with annoy ance. "Oh, you are red ! " exclaimed the other little wretch. " I expect he's been scolding you. Is he your cousin, teacher ? Lottie and me never let Cousin Tom scold us. If he tries it on, we thump him till he runs away.

Don't we, Lottie ? Oh, I say, here's pa and the phae ton. Come on, teacher, we are going home," and away the two creatures ran, and climbed into the vehicle that had drawn up before the door. Mr. Gribble sat in it pompously. He was a little man, with a ferrety face and weak eyes, and he was obliged to make up by his manner for the dignity with which nature had not seen fit to endow him. He had married late in life, and his two daughters were the only produce of his union It was a pity they were daughters, for they had inherited their father's prema turely aged appearance and general want of comeliness, joined to unpleasant dispositions. Still, three Mr. Gribbles might have been too much for this world. He was a retired corn-chandler, but still held some interest in the shop at Haltham, which he visited each market day.

Generally, Mrs. Gribble, in a wonderful velvet bonnet, which she wore all the year round, sat in state by his side, but she had been unable to come on the present occasion, and so he had offered the vacant place to Miss Stafford. He professed to be laying her under an immense obligation by driving her into Haltham, but he had only asked her in order that she might look after his unruly children. It was not the only offer of an escort that she had received that day, although she considered it the most discreet for accept ance. But she hated Mr. Gribble, and, as she issued from the stationer's shop to join him, her eyes almost said so. "Come, now, Miss Stafford," he exclaimed snap pishly, "jump in at once, and don't keep the mare waiting. She has had several stoppages this morning, and it has made her fidgety."

He did not move from his place, nor offer to assist her in any way, and the parcel from the stationer's being /± FATAL SILENCE. 12 stowed under the seat, sne prepared to step into the rickety old phaeton, for which purpose she had to descend by some rugged steps cut at intervals in the raised pathway to the road. "Let me help you, Miss Stafford," cried a young cheerful voice. Mr. Gribble glanced up quickly at the new-comer, and the school teacher blushed. He was a man of per haps seven-and-twenty, dressed in a brown velveteen coat and knickerbockers. His worsted-stockings showed off a well-covered and well-made leg, and the white silk handkerchief knotted loosely round his throat, and the rose in the button-hole, proved he was somewhat of a provincial dandy. He had a frank, open countenance, a clear eye and complexion, and a genial smile — taken altogether, indeed, he was a model of a fresh, good looking young farmer, with a fair amount of intellect added to his personal characteristics.

" Mr. Rushton," said Mr. Gribble formally. "At your' service," cried the other, as he held out his hand to help Miss Stafford down the broken steps, and then he continued: "Ah, Miss Stafford, what a traitor you are. You refused to drive into Haltham with me this afternoon, yet here I find you philandering with Gribble." "Mr. Rushton, be good enough to remember that my daughters are present," said Mr. Gribble in a grandiloquent tone. " Pretty dears ! So they are, " returned Hal Rushton carelessly. "You've missed something, Miss Stafford, I can assure you. The new horse is simply per fect. I was here in forty minutes. You would have enjoyed it much better than jogging along in a phaeton." ' ' You proposed to drive Miss Stafford into Haltham in your dog-cart?" interposed Mr. Gribble, with uplifted eyebrows.

"Certainly. Just as you proposed to drive her in your phaeton. Where's the difference, Mr. Gribble ? " "All the difference in the world, sir. / am a married man ! " Hal Rushton burst into a prolonged peal of laughter. " Oh, you married men ! " he commenced. But Mr. Gribble would not stay to hear the conclusion of his speech. Miss Stafford was settled in her seat, and touching up the old mare, he drove quickly from the spot. As soon, however, as they were clear of the town, he alluded to the subject. " I trust, Miss Stafford," he said, " that you will not encourage an intimacy with Mr. Rushton. He is not a desirable acquaintance for any young woman, in my opinion, and is a source of great disquietude to his excellent stepmother and his afflicted young brother, Mr. Edward Snaley." " I think he is exceedingly generous and kind to both of them," replied Miss Stafford warmly ; for although she had accepted a dependent position, she was not to be sat upon by anybody, " Mr. Snaley is no relation whatever to Mr. Rushton, and yet he enjoys all the privileges of a brother at Highbridge Farm.

Few young men would do as much for him ; and when Mr. Rushton marries, I expect Mr. Snaley will find his position considerably altered." Mr. Gribble turned round and stared her in the face. "Hoity-toity!" he exclaimed. "The young man appears to have gained an able advocate in you, Miss Stafford. At the same time I must beg you will cease to cultivate his acquaintance." "lam not aware," she replied coldly, "that I am answerable to anybody for the selection of my friends, Mr. Gribble." " Oh, yes, you are, ma'am. The position you fill in Deepdale is a very responsible one, and it is the business of myself and my brother churchwardens, to say nothing of our pastor, Mr. Measures, and his ex cellent lady, to see that the souls of the young people under your charge are not tampered with. They must not be permitted to come in contact with anybody likely to contaminate or unsettle them.

Mr. Rushton is not a pious man, Miss Stafford, and no fit friend for you." " My pupils are not likely to come in contact with him, or anybody else," returned Miss Stafford. " You know that no one (except such as have a right to do so) ever enters the schoolroom." " Of course not. I should be sure to hear of it if they did," said Mr. Gribble, looking at his wizened-faced offspring, who were eagerly listening to what passed between him and "teacher. " "But Mr. Rushton's views and ideas may unsettle you, and through you the innocents committed to your care. It must not be, Miss Stafford — it must not be." The young woman disdained to make any further reply, but sat silent and indignant by his side for the remainder of the drive, only addressing an occasional remark to one of the little girls.

She dreaded every minute to hear them burst out something about the man with the long beard, but they were too cunning to moot the subject in her presence. She wished now she had not given Seth Brunt permission to visit her, but she had hardly known how to refuse an old acquaintance. Life proved sometimes too hard a puzzle to the poor girl, and she had not solved the secret to go through it com fortably. The petty tyranny of Mr. Gribble and Mr. Axworthy, and the matrons of Deepdale, often ground into her soul, and made her wish she had never accepted the appointment she held ; but it was bread and meat to her, and she had sorely wanted both. Deepdale, as its name denoted, lay in a valley, and when once the old mare began to go down hill, she scented her stable, and it was difficult to stop her.

The schoolroom stood near the church and quite half a mile away from the brand-new villa to which Mr. Gribble had retired from business. He drew up sharply before the door. "Now, Miss Stafford, be quick, please," he exclaimed, just as he had done when she was about to enter it. "Jennie won't wait a second when she's so near home. Jump out. Lottie, throw your teacher the parcel. That's right," and loosening the reins, he was off again before she had time to say " thank you. " She picked up the heavy parcel of stationery and walked slowly into the deserted schoolhouse. It was a half-holiday, of course, or else she could not have gone to Haltham. As she passed through the Gothic porch of grey stone she unlocked a door on her left and entered her own room. Even this was empty. The little maiden who waited on her had received permission to return home early that day and leave her evening duties to her employer. Miss Stafford placed her parcel on the table, and laying aside her bonnet and shawl, busied herself in preparing a cup of tea.

Chapter II. Mr

GRIBBLE'S DISCOVERY. Without the disfiguring encumbrance of her walking attire she really looked beautiful, particularly when she had somewhat loosened her heavy knot of hair and let it rest upon her slender shoulders. Her figure was very graceful, too, notwithstanding that her cotton dress was old-fashioned and without ornament It was difficult to believe that she was five-and-twenty, for she looked a mere girl as she walked backwards and forwards with the kettle and the tea-pot and the bread and-butter, humming in a low voice to herself as she went. She felt happier now that she was released from the espionage of Mr. Gribble, although the unexpected event of the afternoon had upset her, and she looked forward with some trepidation to the coming visit of Seth Brunt. Once, as she passed a little mirror and caught sight of her pale face, she clasped her head with both her hands and spoke aloud.

"Will the spectre of the past never — never leave me ? " she said. "Am I always to be haunted by the misery I have cast behind me? And I think — I am almost sure — I might be so happy. Well, if it comes in my way, I will be," she added determinately. " I have suffered enough already, Heaven knows ! Surely no one is doomed to a whole life of terror." It was growing dusk by that time, and the church clock chimed out seven. " Brunt will be here presently," she thought. " I will not take my cup of tea until he can join me." She made her little table look as inviting as she could, and lit the gas beside the fireplace. It was a comfortable set of rooms which she occupied, or her deft fingers had made them look so. They were plainly furnished in oak, but fresh flowers and muslin, and an ornament or photograph here and there, had transformed them to the apartments of a lady.

There were only two rooms and a tiny kitchen, but when Miss Stafford had dismissed her scholars and locked the door behind her, she felt that she was free and at peace. Not happy — far from it. The walls of her little rooms had echoed many heart-breaking sobs, and witnessed many hours of despair, of which Messrs. Gribble and Axworthy knew nothing ; but the woman had battled against her grief, and conquered it, and now she felt annoyed and excited to think that anything was going to disturb the buried past. Still, Seth Brunt had been a kind friend to her in the bygone days, and she did not like to be ungrateful. " Poor old Brunt," she thought pitifully, "he used to stick up for me against everyone, but I honestly wish he had never run across me here. And what can he possibly have to say to me about him ?

" As if in answer to her unspoken question, the school house bell at this moment rang out a clamorous iron peal. Miss Stafford opened the door at once and ushered her visitor in. "Sit down, Brunt," she said, and then, looking out into the night, she added anxiously, "I hope no one saw you come in ? Did you meet anybody just about here ? " "Not a soul, madame," replied the sailor; "but haven't you your liberty ? Can't you do as you like ? " " Oh, yes, Brunt ; I am my own mistress, when school is over, of course. Only, I think Deepdale is the most inquisitive place I ever knew. They want to know everything about everybody." "They don't know much about you, I expect," said Brunt. Her pale face flushed as she reclosed the door and sat down opposite to him in the light. " Why should they know anything about me?

" she replied. "What business is it of theirs ? I do my duty, and there our agreement ends." "Ah, madame, it makes my heart ache to find you here — you, who have never been used to work in your life. I thought you would have gone home to live with your mother. Someone told me that you had." "So I did fora while, but my mother is not rich, and I cannot live upon anyone's bounty. And then, there is Paul, you see." "True. And how is Paul, madame?" Miss Stafford sighed. " He is just the same. He will never be different. He has been murdered! " She spoke bitterly, and clenching her hand, knocked it in a nervous manner against her teeth. "Ah, madame, that is the very thing I wished to speak to you about. I saw the Captain as I passed through London. I may almost say that I came straight from him."

"That doesn't enhance the pleasure of seeing you, Brunt." "Perhaps not. But he is so ill. He is almost at death's door. He is too feeble to leave the house." "The news does not affect me." "It would if you saw him, madame. He is a wreck of his former self. He is weak as a child." "So much the better for the next poor wretch who falls into his hands," she answered. "You have grown very hard since I last saw you," said the sailor. The rebuke goaded her into anger. "Hard!" she echoed. " Can you, of all men, call me hard ? You — who have seen me kicked like a dog, who have heard me insulted as if I had been the lowest creature on the face of earth, outraged, spit upon, deserted. You call me hard. It is a wonder I can endure your presence, knowing that you take his hand and call him friend." " Not when he ill-treated you, madame.

Pardon me. I quarrelled with him then, as you must remember. But now that he is dying — without you, or anyone to smooth his pillow, I can't help thinking of the days when we was all happy together aboard the Lily of Chrisliansand, and wondering if he, poor fellow ! thinks about them too." "I have no pity for him. He has brought his mis fortunes on his own head. And if I had, one thought of Paul would drown it. You seem to forget Paul," said Miss Stafford indignantly. "No, madame, I do not. But the poor Captain was not in his right mind. When a man drinks to excess, he becomes mad. If you only saw him now " "I don't want to see him now," interrupted his com panion. " I never wish to see him again, either in this world or the next. I hope I never shall. I lead a life of labour and privation. — sometimes I feel it to be a very hard life.