The Orange Girl Part 42

'Why, my parent, Will, had got under the old house a s.p.a.cious stone vault quite dry, built up with arches and paved with stone; there isn't a finer store-room in all London: it belonged once to some people--I don't know--religious people who liked shutting themselves up in the dark. I suppose that mother couldn't bear waste or the throwing away of good opportunities for she turned the vault into a cellar for stolen goods; she bought the goods; she stored them down below; she sold them to people who carried them about the country. Everybody knew it; and she was pretty safe because she had a good name for the prices she gave, and even Merridew had to let her alone. Well, what was to be done with the things in the vault? There was enough to hang them both a hundred times.

They took me down to see them. I never suspected there was anything like the quant.i.ty of things. Plain silver melted down; gold melted down; precious stones picked out of rings; and snuff-boxes; patch boxes; rolls of silk; boxes of gloves; handkerchiefs; frocks and gowns and embroidered petticoats and mantles; ribbons of all kinds; the place was like a wonderful shop. Time was pressing. It was impossible for mother to sell everything at once; things have to be taken into the country and sold cautiously to the Squire's' lady, who knows very well what she is buying, just as her husband knows that he is buying smuggled brandy.'

'So you bought the things?'

'There was nothing else to do. Mother tied up the jewels in her handkerchief; Doll took the melted gold and silver; and they undertook to carry all the rest of the things across to the garden door in Hog Lane; the door by which we escaped yesterday; and to store them in my cellars and garrets. This, I suppose, they did. I paid for the things.

They are mine, Will.'

'Oh!' I groaned.

'Yes, they are mine. This comes of being born in St. Giles's and belonging to the Black Jack. Well, I clean forgot all about the things.

Well now; this is the point. If I deny knowledge of them they will send out a hue and cry for mother. She will certainly be found and brought up on the charge. And she is not the sort to suffer in silence. I know my people, Will: she and Doll will let it be known that I bought the things, so that we may all thus stand in the Dock together. And I a.s.sure you, Will, I would much rather stand in the Dock alone. I shall have a better chance.'

'Yes--but----'

'If I take the whole business on myself they won't drag in mother. They will let her alone and she will keep quiet for her own sake. Besides, seeing what this woman has got by her evidence I don't think the others will be eager to give their evidence. Now, Will, you know the exact truth. And--and--this is what one expects if you belong to the Black Jack.'

'But--Jenny--think--think.'

'I know what you would say, dear lad. They will hang me. It is a most ungraceful way of going out of the world. One would prefer a feather bed with dignity. But indeed; have no fears, Will. They will do nothing of the kind. If Jenny Wilmot made any friends at Drury Lane now is the time to prove them. But I must think what to do.'

She sat down to the table. There were writing materials upon it. She took quill in hand. Then she turned to me with her pretty smile. 'Oh!

Will--what a disaster it was that the soldiers came up before the mob had set fire to the house! What a disaster! If the house was burned the things in the garrets would have been burned as well and all the stolen goods would have been destroyed and no trace left. What a disaster!' She laughed. 'What might have been called my good fortune has turned out the greatest misfortune that could have happened to me.'

'I must think,' she said. 'I must be alone and think out the whole situation. It all depends on what should be told and what should be concealed. That, I take it, is the history of everything. Some parts we hide and some we tell. I must think.'

I did not disturb her. She leaned her head upon her hand and was silent for awhile.

'Will,' she said, 'of all my friends there are but two on whom I can rely with any hope of help--only two. Yet they told me I had troops of friends. You have heard me speak of a certain n.o.ble lord who made love to me. He made love so seriously that he was ready to marry me. I refused him, as a reward. Besides his sister came and wept--I told you the story. I cannot bear to see even a woman weep. Well, Will, this man is, I am quite sure, a loyal and faithful gentleman, the only one of all my lovers whom I could respect. I am going to write to him. He promised me, upon his honour, to come to my a.s.sistance if ever I wanted any help of any kind. I am going to remind him of that promise. The next friend is the Manager of Drury. He will help me if he can, though he did not propose to marry me. I will write to him as well. And I must write to my attorney, who is also a friend of yours. Now, Will I want you to take by your own hand a letter to his lords.h.i.+p. Go to his town house in Curzon Street and ask the people to deliver the letter instantly. The other two letters you can send by messenger. And, Will, one more thing. I believe you ought to warn Matthew what to expect. Since he is going to be bankrupt on his own account it will not hurt him very much to be bankrupt on mine as well. Now wait a little, while I write the letters.'

CHAPTER XV

THE FILIAL MARTYR

I hastened on my errand, taking a boat to Westminster, whence it is a short walk across the Parks to Curzon Street, where my Lord Brockenhurst had his town house. It was about three o'clock in the afternoon: I found carriages and chaises waiting outside the open door, and the hall within filled with servants in livery lolling about and exchanging insolent remarks upon the people who crowded up the stairs. I am little versed in the customs of the Great, but I confess that the continual presence of these insolent and hulking varlets in the house and in all the rooms would be to me a burden intolerable. What says Doctor Johnson?

'The pride of awful state, The golden canopy, the glitt'ring plate, The regal palace, the luxurious board, The liveried army and the menial lord

I believe he meant the lords who were obsequious to the Cardinal: we may read it, to suit those times, the impudent menials who lord it over their Master's house.

I thought of those lines as I waited, neglected, in the Hall among the lacqueys. Fortunately I was reminded of other lines by the same great author.

'Where won by bribes, by flatteries implored, The groom retails the favours of his Lord.'

I turned to one of them whose shoulder knots and his rod of office proclaimed him one in authority.

'Sir,' I said, 'I am the bearer of a letter for his Lords.h.i.+p.'

'Wait, friend, wait. His Lords.h.i.+p will receive presently.'

'Sir. It is an important letter. It is from a lady. I a.s.sure you that his Lords.h.i.+p would be much vexed not to receive it.'

'Give it to me, then.'

'Sir. By your leave. It is very important. Can you contrive to put it into his Lords.h.i.+p's hand immediately?'

He looked at me with an air of surprise, and made no reply.

'Pardon me, Sir,' I said, taking out my purse, in which were two guineas--all I had in the world--'I forgot to add that I rely on your good offices,' with that I slipped a guinea into his hand.

'Ay--' he said. 'Now you talk sense. Well, Sir, you may trust me. His Lords.h.i.+p shall have the letter within an hour, as soon as his company begins to go.'

With this a.s.surance I was fain to be content. So I came away hoping that the fellow would keep his word. This, happily, he did.

It was too late at that hour to seek out Matthew in his counting-house.

Besides, I confess that I felt pity for the poor wretch thus hastening to destruction. His haggard look at the trial showed the miseries he was suffering. He gave his evidence, as you have heard on the threat that otherwise he would be charged with the other four with conspiracy: and now a misfortune almost as bad was to fall upon him. To go to him would have the appearance of exulting over these misfortunes. Yet it was necessary to tell him.

I went home sadly. That Jenny should suffer the wreck and destruction of her house in Soho Square, was hard: that she should, also, which was much worse, be arrested on a capital charge and committed to Newgate: that she should have nothing to say or to plead in defence: in revenge for the part she had played in proving my innocence: these things, I say, were difficult to understand. Why should she not plead 'Not Guilty,' and leave it to the prosecution to prove that she was the owner of the property or that she knew it was in her house? Who would believe the word of the revengeful fury who swore to seeing the things taken to the house by the old woman and her daughter? Would not a clever counsel make her contradict herself? and confess, somehow, that she herself had laid the things there by way of a trap?

So I argued, blind, in my anxiety.

'Will,' said Alice, 'you would meet misfortune by falsehood. Fie! You would lay a trap set by a clever talker to catch this miserable ignorant woman. Fie!'

'What then?' I cried. 'Ignorant or not she is a mischievous and a revengeful woman. My dear, I would save Jenny at any cost.'

'I think Jenny is right, Will. She will meet the charge by simply pleading "Guilty" to whatever they can prove against her: namely, having the things in her house, knowing that they were stolen. I think it is her wisest course. No questions will be asked: no one will believe that a woman in her position could actually be guilty of receiving stolen goods so worthless: it will be understood by everybody that she is screening someone--some close relation--even at the risk of her own life.'

I replied by a groan of dissent.

'Jenny is not an actress for nothing. She ought not to have bought the things at all: or she ought to have destroyed them: this I suppose she would have done, but she forgot: she was wholly occupied in saving you.

We must remember that with grat.i.tude unspeakable, Will.'

'Yes, wife, G.o.d knows I do.'

'The world has been told over and over again that poor Jenny was once an Orange Girl: do people ever expect Orange Girls to come of respectable parents? To take guilt upon yourself--in order to screen your mother--will appear to the world as a n.o.ble and generous act. It would have taken you and me, Will, a month to discover the best way out of the trouble. But Jenny saw her way at once.'

In the end Alice proved to be right. Jenny chose the very best thing possible, as you shall see.

In the morning I began by making my way to the old familiar place, the Counting House and Wharf close to All-hallows the Great. The Wharf was quite empty and desolate: the cranes were there, but there were no lighters: the casks and bales that formerly enc.u.mbered the place were gone: in the outer counting-house there were no clerks except Ramage.

But the place was filled with lawyers' clerks attornies, creditors and their representatives. The talk was loud and angry: all were talking together: all were threatening terrible things unless their claims were paid in full.

Ramage held up his hands when he saw me and shook his head.

'Will my cousin see me, Ramage?' I asked. 'Tell him I have something of the greatest importance to say to him.'