Overreached

Front matter

OVERREACHED DIGBY'S POPULAR NOVEL SERIES Crown %vn, handsome cloth, fries 2s 6d per Vol. Each Book contains 320 pp., and is printed on superior paper from new type. 7 hose marked * may be had in Picture Boards at 2s. THE BEAUTIFUL SOUL. By FLORENCE MARRYAT. Author of ' A Fatal Silence, etc. Just published. THE OTHEE BOND By DORA RUSSELL. Author of 'A Hidden Chain,' e c. Just published, A LIFE FOR A LOVE, By L. T. MEADE. Author of ' The Medicine Lady,' etc. Just published. FALSE PRETENCES. By ANNIE THOMAS (Mrs Pender Cl-ulip). Author of 'A Girl's Folly,' 'A Lover of the Day,' etc. Just published. HER LOVING SLAVE. By HUME NISBET. Author of 'The Jolly Roger,' ' Bail Up,' etc., etc. With Illustrations by the Author. Just published. * DR JANET OF HARLEY STREET. By ARABELLA KENEALY. Author of * Some Men are such Gentlemen,' ' The Honourable Mrs Spoor.' Seventh Edition^ * THE MYSTERY OF CLEMENT DUNRAVEN.

By JEAN MIDDLEMASS. Author of 'A Girl in a Thousand.' ' Hush Money,' etc. Third Edition. * A HIDDEN CHAIN. By DORA RUSSELL. Author of ' The Other Bond,' ' Footprints in the Snow,' etc. Third Edition. * THE JOLLY ROGER. By HUME NISBET. Author of ' Her Loving Slave,' ' Bail Up,' etc. With Illustrations by the Author. Fifth Edition. '.' Other Works in the same Series i?i due course DIGBY, LONG & CO., LONDON OYERBEACHED BY MATTHEW VALLANCE LONDON DIGBY, LONG & CO., PUBLISHERS 18 Bouverie Street, Fleet Street, E.C. OVERREACHED

Chapter I

Dead ! is he ? Well he was good to me no one will ever be as kind to me as he was, no one will ever understand me as well. Yet I do not feel what is called grief. Why is it ? There must be some thing wrong in my organisation, and I leant discontentedly against the chimney piece, and stared at my own face in the looking-glass, trying to see if my expres sion contradicted the thought passing through my mind ; but, of course, it did not, there was no trace of regret, no sign of sorrow, nothing but one prevailing look of discontent. Was I without a heart ? could I not feel like others ? In a way, my own way, I had cared for the old man, OVERREACHED 6 but now I did not seem to care. I was not sorry he was gone ; but angry ; why had he died? His death meant an end to my freedom, to all my ambitious dreams.

Who would encourage me now to study, who would listen and sympathise in my ' hopes and wild imaginings ? ' and gently laugh and tell me my 'schemes were airy castles.' He had left me, just as I wanted him so much. Sorrow — I could not feel : nothing but rebellion against my cruel Fate : Now that he was dead, I must go and live with my English relations ; and I had always hated the idea; their very letters, few as they had been, seemed impregnated with the chilliness and fogginess of their climate. Oh ! it was horrid of my uncle to die. Weary of looking at myself in the glass, I took to pacing up and down the room, repeating to myself over and over again: 'Dead, and I left.' Yet I might have known the end must come ; he was an old man, over seventy, but I had never thought of death. Life had been a OVERREACHED 7 continual f6te-day to me until the dread ' Intruder ' came, and all was changed.

It had been so sudden, scarcely twenty four hours had passed since I had laugh ingly bid him ' work hard and get his old dry stuff finished before I returned,' and he had calmly smiled and chided me for being such a feather-brain. His great work, the book which he ex pected would bring him fame, lay finished on the table when I came back, but the brain that had inspired, the hand that had penned it, was stilled for ever. I thought at first he only slept, and sat down near him to wait his waking ; getting weary at length, I took his hand, calling to him to awake, but in vain : the usual quick re sponse to my touch never came, and, struck by the icy chilliness of his hand, I brought the lamp nearer, and as its light fell on the set features, I knew in whose Dread Presence I stood. Quietly I replaced the lamp in its accustomed place, and then went into the adjoining room where my cousin Gaston sat reading, and like one OVERREACHED 8 walking in her sleep I said : ' Gaston, uncle is dead,' and fell in a faint at his feet.

That happened only last evening, and here I am pacing up and down like a caged lion in the same room, the same in every way, save, that his chair is empty. The pages of his MS. lay as he left them ; his pen carelessly thrown down, the inkstand still open, four or five books of reference heaped on a chair beside the table on which lay a fine medal in bronze of George Cuvier — it served as a letter weight, and under it were a heap of letters still unanswered, and which now never would be. I took them up and glanced at the various writings : here was one from Reclus, another from Pasteur, a flattering epistle from a Royal personage — I remembered reading it out to him and how pleased he had been — bah ! what was the good of looking through them ; he was dead, and I flung them down and began again to walk to and fro.

How should I ever bear the change ? OVERREACHED 9 how live my life? 'Oh, Death!' I ex claimed, ' horrible, ruthless destroyer of all happiness, why could you not have taken someone else ? we were so happy, he was the help, the guide to so many, he was all to me and now I am left alone.' I paused again in my restless wandering, and looked around on the dear old room ; how truly it portrayed the occupier. The large table covered with maps and manuscripts, books everywhere on the chairs, sofa, on small tables, which appeared almost too fragile for the weight laid upon them. A large bookcase filled one side of the room, and as I glanced carelessly at it, I saw the well-known names of Barraude, Agassiz, Venetry, Jean de Charpentier, Forbes, Tyndall, Dollfus-Ausset, Geikie, Falsan, and Alphonse Favre ; how I used to hate those horrid dry books which absorbed all his attention, and made him forgetful of my presence.

Fossils abounded in every part of the room ; how proud he was of them, especially of an OVERREACHED 10 Os Manhii which he had discovered himself in Argovia and which was as perfect as if it had just left the water, instead of dating from the Jurassic period. He used it as a paper-weight as he also did a superb specimen of a Paradoxides Davidi, found in the mines of St David, Western Wales, and an Ammonite from Hall stadt. Close beside this, lay a heavy ruler made of wood, harder than iron, of a faded yellow colour spotted with black, it was a souvenir of the Amazon. I took it up mechanically, I almost felt as if I could see his nervous energetic fingers closing round it, but no ! they would never do so again, and I laid it down. Cruel fate that shortens our lives whilst that inanimate piece of wood will last for years, probably cased in some museum, and if it could speak, could tell us the hidden histories of hundreds of years ago, when it formed a portion of its parent tree on the banks of the Amazon.

Man's life is so short, so terribly short, and yet what a long vista OVERREACHED 11 there seemed before me — a vista — no, rather a broad blank space with no light shining on it. If only he had lived, how different it would have been ! Hastily I glanced up at the walls on which were hung Indian weapons, antelope horns, portraits of A. de Humboldt, Leopold de Buch, Louis Agassiz, Joachim Barraude, Jean de Charpentier, and most valued of all, Louis Pasteur. Strangely incongruous to all these surroundings was a beautiful painting of one of the most picturesque spots in the Jura mountains, by that erratic genius Gustave Courbet ; my eyes rested almost gratefully upon it, it reminded me less of the dead and more of nature and sunshine. I longed for air, aud unmindful of appearances, I rushed to the window, opened it, and flung the green shutters apart — it was a relief, I breathed clearer, and yet how strangely unsympathetic nature is.

Yesterday when I was happy, she had looked grey and colourless ; to-day, when I was sorrowful, she wore her most brilliant garb ; does it OVERREACHED 12 mean to tell us by this ' light heed of human suffering,' — ' That it was fashioned for a happier world ' perhaps so — who can tell ? ' Veiy beautiful was the scene I gazed upon. Below me lay the waters of Lake Leman, calm and untroubled, save where some passing steamer stirred its surface ; it had the appearance of a large opal so many were its colours. Before me rose the rocks of Meillerie over shadowed by the dent d'Oche, not as I had often seen it dark and threatening, but bright as it caught lovingly the rays of the setting sun; at the foot of the mountain nestled the village of St Gingolph. It stood out clear, as if to re mind me of the happy days I had spent in wandering by the banks of the Morge.

To the left of me, I could just see the towers of Chillon, the He de Paix, Villeneuve, and the Bouches du Rhone with their grand background of Valais Alps, Mont Velan, Mont Catogne, and OVERREACHED 13 the Dent du Midi, its heights lit up with rosy tips. How well I knew it all ! how often he and I had sat of evenings looking out upon it he, lost in dreams, trying to make me in imagination see the world's past ages, until I used to get indignant, and perching myself on the window-sill, bid him think of nothing but me, and he would rise laughing and clasping me in his arms, say, ' Chere petite, que vous etes adorable ! ' ' Child, what are you doing, have you already forgotten our loss ? ' and my cousin Gaston stood beside me. I had not heard him enter the room, and started at the sound of his voice, which always irritated me even in my happiest moods.

Somehow Gaston had the same effect on me that a mosquito has, and I always found him as difficult to get rid of. Why I disliked him so much I do not quite know ; he was a very good young fellow and decidedly handsome, in fact, I had heard some ladies call him ' an artistic delight,' and perhaps if he had OVERREACHED 14 been born dumb, I might have thought the same ; but Gaston was commonplace when he talked ; he had ' no sense of humour, no originality. Educated by his uncle, he was naturally well informed, but he always reminded me of a ' Child's Guide to Knowledge,' when he took to enlighten me on any subject. It was, therefore, in a tone of considerable annoy ance that I replied : ' Pray, what has my leaning out of the window to do with memory ? ' ' What will the villagers and our neighbours say, if they see you ? ' ' Their remarks will probably not reach me, and if they do, will not affect me.' ' Rayon, you really must learn to be more like other people, and think more about the opinion of society.' ' Oh stop that ceaseless buzzing about society, it is an absurdity talking about such a thing in Corseaux.' ' For the present, Corseaux is your world.' ' And the effect produced on this great OVERREACHED 15 world of yours by my looking out of this window will be terrible, eh !

Gaston,' and I laughed mockingly. ' Hush, Rayon, do be reasonable. It is barely twenty-four hours since uncle died, and here you are to be seen as if nothing had occurred.' ' What difference will it make to the dead, Gaston? Will he know whether I sit in a darkened, stuffy room, or in the open air ? ' ' To the dead, none; to the living, yes. You ought to think of Marie's and my feelings.' ' Anatysing yours and Marie's emotions is a task I am unequal to at present.' ' I said think, not analyse.' ' To forget would suit me best.' ' You will soon be able to do so, Rayon, when your are among your rich English relations.' ' Do not mention them,' and I turned angrily towards him — ' you know I detest going to them ; you are cruel, you never loved uncle as I did ; he was just all to OVERREACHED me — mother, father, playmate, friend, and now I am utterly alone.' ' No, Rayon dear, do not say that ; you know I care for you, cruel as you often are to me.

Remain with us.' ' Impossible, Gaston, I" must go away. I should die if I remained here, everything would remind me of him.' ' We would do all we could to make you happy, Rayon. Marie loves you as a sister. ' She has that feeling for so many. No, Gaston, I should not be able to endure my life here without uncle ; it would be so monotonous. I cannot stand the fuss Marie makes over her household duties, this room has been my refuge since she came — the one place sacred from her eternal cleaning ; now all will be changed and broom and duster reign supreme. Truth is, you and Marie are a most praiseworthy couple, but uninteresting ; your lives will run on a dead level. Ten years hence Marie will be studying the same cookery book, fighting the same warfare OVERREACHED 17 with dust ; you will be telling the same dreary stories and expecting people to laugh.' ' Do stop, Rayon, everyone cannot be clever and original like you.

Perhaps it would be better for you, if you were more like other people, expected less from the world, were more content to simply per form life's duties.' ' Which to you begin and end for a woman in the three German K's. Die Kirche, die Kinder und die Kiiche. I should go mad, Gaston, if I had a husband like you. Marie with her industrious ways was the very wife for you.' ' Yes, she suits me — ' but Gaston sighed. Was he thinking of his foolish dream two years ago ? For some minutes the two cousins leant out of the window in silence, then Gaston quietly drew the shutters together. ' Rayon, will you come now and take your last look at the dead ? ' ' Not I, Gaston. I want to remember him living. I do not want to gaze at the B OVERREACHED husk he has left behind. I prefer sitting here and thinking of him alive,' and I flung myself into the chair I always sat in when with my uncle. ' Then you will not come with me ? ' ' No, I will not ; do leave me.' Gaston looked at me, and heaved a deep sigh.

How I hate men with that tendency of transforming themselves into bellows ! ' How heartless you are, Rayon, you think of no one but yourself, your very grief is selfish, you are dwelling always on your loss, you never think of his gain.' 'Naturally not, as my ideas are too vague on the subject, and no one appears to be able to enlighten me with any cer tainty. There, oh ! do not begin to preach, I know every word you are going to say, and I need none of the comforting jargon which satisfies some people. Sorrow is a personal matter, and no outsider can understand the nature of one's grief.' OVERREACHED 19 ' Have I already become an outsider ? ' I thought. ' Never mind what you thought, your sentimental ideas are almost as hackneyed as your religious ones, do leave me please.' I watched him as he turned away, feeling relieved as the door closed. Little I thought the day would come when I should turn to Gaston as my only refuge, my one friend — so little do we foresee the future.

Chapter II

What I endured the fortnight I spent at Corseaux, after my uncle's death I can never tell. There are some trials too great to be analysed, and such was mine, perhaps, as my cousin had said, my grief was selfish, and no doubt all right-minded people would have agreed with him, but then I was not a right-minded girl, my mind was not a well-balanced one. I had always been guided by impulse. The fact was, that up to the time of my uncle's death, I had simply existed, enjoying life to the full as only a girl in sound health, and educated free from the tyrannous rule of conventional nurseries and schoolrooms, can. My cousin had been the only croaker OVERREACHED 21 near me ; and I treated him with the same disdain the soaring, singing lark does the rook's dull caw. Now without a note of warning, I had plunged into the dark side of life, and I felt much as a clock, if it vibrated with feeling must do, w7hen a rude hand breaks the little merry wheel that made it tick so gaily the hours away — something had broken inside me, and no cunning hand would ever repair my injury.

My cousins, and the ' society ' they affected, were scandalised at my unnatural conduct, as they called it, and they wagged their heads, and pursed their lips up tight, and said I would come to a bad end. ' The idea,' Marie kept saying to me, ' of never visiting the dead body, or going to the grave.' Most of the day I spent alone in my uncle's room, there I seemed to feel his spirit around me, that I was not utterly alone ; but what good would it have done me or him if I had watched by his dead body ? It was not he, only the outer case which he had cast aside. What OVERREACHED 22 comfort would I have gained from gazing on his closed eyes ? Beautiful, they told me he looked; yes, so is many a piece of sculpture, but what inspiration do you gain from contemplating such ? The mind that electrifies the whole body, the sym pathy that strikes a responding chord is wanting; and while they stood around his grave, it seemed to me as I sat in his room that I saw him, indeed, I am certain of it.

For a second or two he sat by his old writing-table, his head resting on his hand, then he rose and wandered slowly around the room, pausing by the book-shelves, and I saw a smile pass over his lips as if to say they were now needless; he paused by Pasteur's portrait and gazed upon it lovingly, then he turned as if to sit in his favourite armchair, and I rose to give it him ; but the figure I had been watching in silent, loving awe vanished, and then I heard a voice so musical — it was as if an Eolian harp had been struck by heavenly breezes — say: 'Adieu, ma petite, va remplir ta destinee, moije te surveillerai.' OVERREACHED 23 When I told this to Gaston, he laughed and chided me, and bade me go to bed, and as Marie dosed me with tisane, I heard him whisper that I was going mad. As the train moved slowly out of the station and I saw the last of my cousin Gaston, the one link that seemed to bind me to the past, I thought my heart would break.

I forgot all the peculiarities which used to irritate me so greatly, I remembered only his many kindnesses, nothing but his last words, strange as they sounded in one way to me, who was so ignorant of the world, there was a note of fear for me in them. ' Remember, Rayon,' he said, ' if you ever need a friend, whatever may be the cause of your trouble, you will always find one in me. My house shall always be a home to you whatever may be the reason you seek it; let no soirow, no disgrace ever prevent your coming to me.' ' Dear Gaston ! when shall I see you again, when shall I hear again yourkindly voice ? ' OVERREACHED 24 Sadly I leant back in my corner. As if in a dream, I saw the spots I knew and had loved so well. I was unconscious of everything, dead to all sensations save regret — and thus the first few hours passed.

But as I left the beautiful scenery of Switzerland behind, as snowy peaks and glaciers disappeared, my mood changed. I began as though to breathe again, and became curious as to what my fellow-travellers were like. There were only two, and a short survey satisfied me that I should not get much amusement out of them — yes, I actually thought of amuse ment, do not be shocked my readers, but it was so. A kind of reaction seemed to have come over me as I left Switzerland behind. I felt a longing to be enter tained, to be amused. Heartless, you will say, perhaps so ; but at eighteen one cannot always grieve. What fussy, fat old creatures my companions were; travelling to them was not a chance interruption to the daily routine of existence, but a veritable undertaking in which everything OVERREACHED 25 was to be done as much as possible en regie.

At a certain hour they produced a large basket, the elder one having de clared it was time for supper, and with the gravest air, the younger one brought out hard-boiled egg sandwiches, the thickness of which would have satisfied any London street-boy, cakes, oranges, and a large bottle of red wine. The elder sister (for I had discovered that was their relationship ) allowed herself to be waited upon with a kindly air of condescension, which was quite out of keeping with her homely, plump appearance. Seeing I was watching them, they good-naturedly invited me to join them, and I nothing loth, for I was really hungry, gladly accepted it, and began chatting gaily. I found that they were Bretons, two old maids spending most of their year travelling from place to place, only returning for three or four months every year to their old home near Vannes.

When the repast was ended, the younger sister replaced everything in the basket in OVERREACHED the same methodical manner, and then they began their preparations for the night. First they unstrapped two eider down quilts which they laid over their seats, then appeared two pillows, a couple of rugs, warm shawls which they wrapt themselves well in. Then they took off their bonnets, tying them carefully up in two large white handkerchiefs before putting them up in the rack, enveloping their heads in red scarfs which made them look even uglier and more commonplace than the frightful headgear they had dis carded. The elder sister at once disposed herself to sleep, but the younger one was less somnolent, and moving to the seat opposite to me, began asking me innumer able questions — where I was going ? what was I going to be ? which questions I answered as best I could. ' Oh dear me, mademoiselle, itais nice to be young and to look forward ; I used to dream once, but it was a dream without an end,' and the poor old girl began to cry.

There was something almost comical in OVERREACHED 27 seeing her fat face puckering up, and the tears coursing down her plump cheeks, I nearly laughed ; but the night would be long, so I decided I might as well listen to her story. ' So your dream fled ? ' ' Yes, exactly, my dear.' Oh horror ! she was getting affectionate. ' I will tell you my story, it will be a pleasure to me, for I never talk about the past now ; it annoys my sister, she says my dream was all nonsense, that he forgot me ; but I know better. You see Angele has a strong nature, there is no sentiment in her ; whilst I am soft, oh soft as butter — you are gentle and sweet, you will understand my pain,' and she leant forward and caught hold of my hand. ' How we loved each other, Joseph and I, he was a soldier, an officer, so handsome, all the girls in the town were in love with him, but he had eyes for only me.

I was a pretty girl then . . . you doubt it ? ' and she drew herself back offended. I OVERREACHED certainly did, but hastened to assure her I was sure she must have been charming. Yes dear, that is just what he used to call me,' and she resumed her old attitude. Alas ! he had no money beyond his pay, and I had not the necessary dot; my father said he could give me nothing, he was nearly ruined. I wanted to be engaged, but my sister said it would be utter foolishness to tie myself down to a beggar, and even Joseph said I ought to remain free, so we parted, he, vowing he would never forget me and if fortune favoured him, would return to me, but I must not sacrifice myself for him ; he only wished me to be happy. I threw my arms round his neck and swore I would wait for him, mon Dieu ! I have waited, but Joseph never came back.

A few years after, my father died and we found he had been making money, not losing, as he always told us. I might have had my Joseph if only he would have parted with his loved gold ; but no, he kept his hoard and made an old maid of me. Well, well, OVERREACHED 29 in another world I shall meet my Joseph and there will be no money there to separate us. Good-night now, my dear, it has done me good talking to you, I shall dream sweetly.' Poor old thing, she was soon asleep snoring away lustily in company with her strong-minded sister. Sleep I could not, I was too excited. I kept wondering what my new relations would be like, what would they think of me ? what new events would happen to me ? would a rich Englishman fall in love with me and marry me ? or should I be a failure ? and involuntarily I turned and gazed on the slumberers.

Should I live and grow old, and become fat and foolish like them ? leading a placid existence with out any other excitement than daily marketings and the serious consideration of turning winter garments into summer use ? with nothing better to look forward to than meeting an ideal Joseph in another world ? Paris at last — an end to gloomy fancies OVERREACHED 30 and the snorers' duet. An old friend of my uncle's met me and we hurried across Paris in an uncomfortable fiacre, to the Gare du Nord, it was my first vision of Paris, that Cleopatra of cities. But at five in the morning, Paris is not at its best. The early morning denizens look weary-eyed and unwholesome, there are strongly marked traces of demoralisa tion upon them, sad to behold. Nothing eventful occurred during my tedious journey to Calais, in a carriage full of most uninteresting English people, who eyed each other with glances decidedly hostile.

I wondered if they had ever been acquainted and had had a lawsuit, but I have since discovered that it is customary for English travellers to adopt this aggres sive attitude towards their country people. The sea came at length, the real sea — for I hardly call the tideless Mediterranean such — true, I have heard it can be rough, but I had always seen it blue, calm, and as monotonous as a well - brought - up - debutante.

Chapter III

Only an hour and a quarter did the cross ing take, and yet it shaped future events for me. Such is Fate ! a minute can change the mesh of life that was so smooth and regular, into a tangled web that will take years to undo. I noticed, as I stepped on board, a good-looking man with a long beard of golden hue, dressed in a dark blue serge suit ; our eyes met, and as though he recognised me, he raised his hat. I did not bow in return, but walked past him to a seat feeling confused and shy. I had not long been sitting gazing into the sea, when I heard myself addressed in a soft, rather melodious voice, and on looking round, perceived he had followed OVERREACHED 32 me. He spoke in French and asked if he could do anything for me. I concluded he belonged to the steamer, and without hesitation, replied in the negative, thank ing him for his attention to me.