Jane And The Man Of The Cloth Part 9

"Name it."

'That I direct my own efforts. Your scheme depends upon my discretion; and a too-public converse between ourselves should ignite the suspicions of those we least wish to rouse."

He bowed his head.

And what if I discovered that Mr. Sidmouth was indeed capable of anything? Having gained the knowledge, how was I to act? I thrust aside thai thai dilemma as trouble enough for another day. dilemma as trouble enough for another day.

"And one thing more, Mr. Cavendish." I rose to convey to him that our meeting was at an end.

"Miss Austen?"

"If you honour my reputation as a lady, you must never reveal the source of your information, do I succeed in obtaining it" I knew myself in that moment, and called myself a coward. For if I embarked upon a program of spying at High Down, and determined Mr. Sidmouth's guilt, I should be the means of bringing him to the scaffold, for the sake of all that I valued in society. But I could never bear to confront him, at his final day, with his knowledge of my betrayal full upon his face.

1 Miss Crawford describes the common practice among genteel families of ordering the construction of a new carriage for a wedding-usually at the groom's expense. - Miss Crawford describes the common practice among genteel families of ordering the construction of a new carriage for a wedding-usually at the groom's expense. -Etlilor't note.2 This letter no longer survives in the collected correspondence. Ca.s.sandra Austen is believed to have destroyed many of Jane's letters after her sister's death. - This letter no longer survives in the collected correspondence. Ca.s.sandra Austen is believed to have destroyed many of Jane's letters after her sister's death. -Editor's note.

Chapter 11 - Converse with an Angel.

19 September 1804 *

ALL THROUGH THE LENGTH OF YESTERDAY THE WIND TORE ABOUT Wings cottage-shuddering at the cas.e.m.e.nts, howling around the corners, and ratding the very door frames- while the rain lashed at the roof, and sheets of salty spray cascaded over the Cobb. I have never known what it is to sail the seas, and feel the tossing of a fragile vessel in the maw of a storm; and having witnessed the raging tide so close upon my stoop, I am happy to leave such adventures to my hardier brothers. The only consolation in foul weather is to turn one's lock upon the street, and settle in by the fire with tea and a good book-and hope that Cook will devise a meal that comforts, as the day fades into night. Wings cottage-shuddering at the cas.e.m.e.nts, howling around the corners, and ratding the very door frames- while the rain lashed at the roof, and sheets of salty spray cascaded over the Cobb. I have never known what it is to sail the seas, and feel the tossing of a fragile vessel in the maw of a storm; and having witnessed the raging tide so close upon my stoop, I am happy to leave such adventures to my hardier brothers. The only consolation in foul weather is to turn one's lock upon the street, and settle in by the fire with tea and a good book-and hope that Cook will devise a meal that comforts, as the day fades into night.

But that meal, once taken, reveals itself as the high point of an unendurably dull day; and the slow mounting of stairs, while one's candle flickers in the turbulent air, affords a moment to attend to the voices in the wind. My sleep was certainly marked by their ceaseless crying- though sleep itself was long in coming, and my tossing and turning amidst the bedclothes a parody of the frenzied trees beyond my window. Such thoughts as roiled within my brain-of murder, and deceit, and a sinister smiling frog-would not be stilled, and required the full compa.s.s of the night for their consideration. I awoke from a fitful dreaming not an hour past dawn, and found the daylight sky turned peaceful, with the tattered remnants of cloud fading blackly at the horizon. Rivulets of water ran down Lyme's steep high street, to end in the calmer basin of the bay; and the first carters bound for the market were busy about the cobblestones. Peace after tumult, and with it, a clearing of the mind; I should take up the errand of returning Mr. Sidmouth's cloak, which he had placed about my shoulders some ten days before, and all but forgotten in a corner of my clothes press. I would attempt the few miles' walk to the Grange that very morning.

HOW VERY DIFFERENT WERE MY FEELINGS UPON THE PRESENT occasion, in approaching the old frame farmhouse high upon the downs, than they had been the night of my sister's misfortune! Then, Then, my anxiety was active on another's behalf; but now, to my trepidation, I found it exerted entirely on my own. Deceit has ever been foreign to my nature, and the adoption of stratagems and disguise abhorrent; but truth and frankness would not serve in the present case, where so much of both were already prostrate upon dishonour's altar. my anxiety was active on another's behalf; but now, to my trepidation, I found it exerted entirely on my own. Deceit has ever been foreign to my nature, and the adoption of stratagems and disguise abhorrent; but truth and frankness would not serve in the present case, where so much of both were already prostrate upon dishonour's altar.

With firmer resolve, then, I redoubled my grip on Sidmouth's cloak and crossed the familiar courtyard, expecting every moment the onset of the dogs, or the boy Toby and his blunderbuss; but I was allowed to proceed unmolested today, and took it for a favourable omen. The courtyard itself was a confusion of waggons and harness, cast aside but not yet stored; and I remembered Roy Cavendish 's words with a sudden chill. The Customs man had offered it as certain knowledge that the smugglers preferred to land their goods in the very worst sort of weather, the better to confound the Crown's dragoons; and a.s.suredly last night had been highly propitious for any sort of skulduggery. At this further suggestion of Sidmouth's propensities, I confess my heart sank; but I determined to go forward, there being little comfort in turning back, as ever benighted by ignorance.

My arrival at the door occasioned another tremor-for what words should I summon, did the master of High Down confront me at his very portal, though I had had committed to visit his cousin? The mere sight of Sidmouth should reduce me to a painful penury with words, so conflicted were my emotions towards himself. But I was spared even committed to visit his cousin? The mere sight of Sidmouth should reduce me to a painful penury with words, so conflicted were my emotions towards himself. But I was spared even this this trial; after some few moments, when I felt certain the entire household had been called away, the housemaid Mary answered my ring at the bell, and bade me come in search of Mademoiselle LeFevre. trial; after some few moments, when I felt certain the entire household had been called away, the housemaid Mary answered my ring at the bell, and bade me come in search of Mademoiselle LeFevre.

I followed her down the cool stone hallway, and out a door on the nether end, and along a path to the kitchens-which, owing to a fear of fire, were separately housed. And there I espied the three dogs-jasper, Fang, and Beelzebub, if memory served-in att.i.tudes of languor about the kitchen door, and the sound of song emanating from within. It was a.s.suredly Seraphine, her head bent over an ankle propped in her lap; and had it not been for a conviction that the foot was too small to be Sidmouth's, I should have turned and fled that very moment.

A sound I must have made, and her blond head came up; an instant's bewilderment, superseded as swiftly by recognition, and the ghost of a smile. "Miss Austen," Seraphine said quietly, and set down the shears she held in her hand; "what a surprise. And a pleasure. Please"- with that, a gesture towards the kitchen's interior- be so good as to find a seat. I am almost finished my work here."

I entered, and found that the ankle was attached to Toby, and that his face and arms appeared singularly bruised. "Whatever can have befallen the boy!" I exclaimed, and received a surly glance from the fellow in question by way of reply.

"He has had a fall," Seraphine said smoothly.

"From the hay-loft," Toby added, with a quick look at his nursemaid. "Missed the ladder in the dark, miss, on account o' the lanthorn blowin' over in the storm. Quite a tumble I had, and my foot gone lame."

A hay-loft, indeed. To judge by the Grange's barn, such a fall should have succeeded in finis.h.i.+ng young Toby, with a broken neck at the very least. More likely, to my mind, that he had taken a fall about the cliff, in the darkness of night and the confusion of a storm.

"I trust it is not broken?"

Seraphine shook her head and patted the bandage she had only just secured. "Our good Mr. Dagliesh has been and gone, and he a.s.sures us that Toby will be walking in no time. But until you are, young sir," she finished somewhat sternly, "you are to pay heed to Mr. Dagliesh's words. Rest and sit, or your leg will be the worse for it."

With a dark look and a mutter, Toby swung his ankle from Seraphine's lap and set it on the floor, barely disguising a whimper as he did so; and at that very moment, a shadow fell across the door and I turned to find Geoffrey Sidmouth standing behind me, his eyes intent upon my face and a pair of newly-whitded crutches in his hand.

"Mr. Sidmouth," I said with what I trust was my usual composure, and a bob of my bonneted head. "I am able to return your cloak at long last, with my deepest thanks. I have no excuse to plead for my neglect of your kindness these many days, but the usual absorption of a lady in seaside schemes of pleasure."

"There is no need for apology, Miss Austen-I might have sent a manservant, had I felt the cloak to be wanting-but your exertion in returning it is considerable, and not to be dismissed." And at that he bowed, though the hint of mockery in the gesture served to lessen somewhat its civility, and reached a hand for my burden. I gave over the cloak into Sidmouth's safekeeping; and saw that his thoughts had s.h.i.+fted already to the stable boy Toby.

"Come along, lad," he said, with a hand to Toby's head. "These crutches will have you to rights in an instant. Well do I remember my own turned ankles, from falling out of trees, Miss Austen," he added, with a look for me, "and tripping over fox holes; they were as much a part of childhood as the turning of the seasons. And fortunately I remember how to fas.h.i.+on a crutch, when need be."

Such gentleness, as he helped the boy to his feet! Such a tender concern for a stable lad's well-being, that he should whittle some support with his very hands! And how fond the look, as he watched Toby swing haltingly out the doorway, and cross the yard to the barn! Could such benevolence co-exist with the most vicious propensities? Impossible! But how, then, to explain the waggons about the courtyard, all speaking so eloquently of haste and necessity in the night?

My thoughts were disturbed by a sudden b.u.mp! b.u.mp! overhead, and the sound as of something rolling into a garret corner; I glanced up swiftly, and would swear I heard the shuffle of knees along bare floorboards, and then the very stillness of suspended breath. I looked to Seraphine for explanation, but she was bent over a cauldron hanging at the hearth; and if her cheeks were a trifle flushed, surely die heat of the fire might be taken as cause. Sidmouth, too, appeared insensible of the secretive movements above his head, being engaged in gathering up the cloth Seraphine had used for Toby's bandage; and I should have thought myself quite mad, did I not believe them both to have a purpose for a.s.sumed tranquillity. overhead, and the sound as of something rolling into a garret corner; I glanced up swiftly, and would swear I heard the shuffle of knees along bare floorboards, and then the very stillness of suspended breath. I looked to Seraphine for explanation, but she was bent over a cauldron hanging at the hearth; and if her cheeks were a trifle flushed, surely die heat of the fire might be taken as cause. Sidmouth, too, appeared insensible of the secretive movements above his head, being engaged in gathering up the cloth Seraphine had used for Toby's bandage; and I should have thought myself quite mad, did I not believe them both to have a purpose for a.s.sumed tranquillity.

I glanced about the kitchen, and observed a doorway in the far corner-concealing, perhaps, a staircase, and the way to the rooms above, where even now the Reverend's henchmen were foiled in their activity, by the appearance of a visitor below. The image of Davy Forely's grimacing face, glimpsed a week ago as he fled the dragoons on Sidmouth's horse, rose with conviction in my mind-was the lander even now recovering from his wounds, in hiding at High Down Grange? But to what purpose? For had not Captain Fielding divulged that no charge could be brought against the men, for retrieving a cargo of small beer? But someone someone was a.s.suredly above, and keeping covert; Seraphine had p.r.o.nounced my name quite clearly at my arrival, and Mr. Sidmouth equally so- a signal, perhaps, for the cessation of all movement in the garret. I must try what outright interrogation should reveal. was a.s.suredly above, and keeping covert; Seraphine had p.r.o.nounced my name quite clearly at my arrival, and Mr. Sidmouth equally so- a signal, perhaps, for the cessation of all movement in the garret. I must try what outright interrogation should reveal.

"I see you have visitors? Mr. Sidmouth," I said, and awaited his response.

He moved lithely to the doorway and peered out into the suns.h.i.+ne, as though in search of an arriving chaise. "I fear you are mistaken, Miss Austen. We must look solely to yourself for amus.e.m.e.nt this morning."

I allowed the slightest suggestion of confusion to cross my features. "But what, then, is the purpose of the waggons in the courtyard? I expected an entire party of pleasure-seekers upon my arrival-and yet could barely discover a soul!"

"We were about the hay-making yesterday," Sidmouth said evenly, with a look to Seraphine; "until halted by the onset of the storm. Had Toby been better fitted to his work, the equipages should hardly have been left standing; but his injury, and the pressing nature of my own affairs, necessitated their present abandonment"

He could not have known, of course, that Toby had declared his injury to be a thing of the night-and well after any waggons should have been put up.

"I hope your expectations are not all downcast, Miss Austen, at finding us quite alone? For we are general!)' so retiring at High Down Grange, that the addition of merely one one to the circle is taken as a novelty. We are in your debt, you see, for this visit/' to the circle is taken as a novelty. We are in your debt, you see, for this visit/'

"And I feel it particularly,'" said Seraphine, turning from the fire, "for you know I see almost no one. I wonder, Miss Austen, if you would care to take a turn along the cliffs-the weather being so fine? We might converse at some leisure in the open air; and as such days will offer only rarely in the coming months, we ought to seize them when we may."

Though I had toiled fully two and a half miles uphill from Lyme in the previous hour, I surmised Seraphine to be seeking some privacy, if not my safe removal from the vicinity of the kitchen garret; and declared myself not antagonistic to the notion of exercise. While the lady went in search of her cloak, there being a brisk breeze off the sea, I settled myself into an empty chair; and so was left in the company of Mr. Sidmouth for some anxious moments.

"Let me repeat myself, Miss Austen, the better to show my grat.i.tude, even at the risk of increasing your tedium," he began, his brown eyes warm in his harsh-featured face. "I am very much obliged to you for this visit. I know full well that you are come at my express request, made only a few nights ago-a melancholy night, in retrospect, given the events that followed hard upon our evening's enjoyment at Darby."

For a moment I knew not how to reply, surprised that he should mention even so obliquely the death of Captain Fielding.

"There is to be an inquest, I understand, at the Golden Lion," I ventured at the last.

"It will avail them nothing," Sidmouth said grimly, and threw himself into the chair Seraphine had vacated. "Fielding's murderer is long gone from the vicinity."

"You would credit, then, the notion of a footpad? You believe Captain Fielding to have died by misadventure?"

"Is there an alternative?" he enquired, with a knitting of the brows. "-For the Captain is unlikely to have done away with himself, Miss Austen, having first dispensed with his valuables."

"But another might have effected a similar appearance."

"To what purpose?" Mr. Sidmouth's voice was so quiet as to be almost inaudible, and his countenance was stilled and shuttered.

"To suggest that what was murder by design, design, was merely a perilous encounter with a highwayman-the better to divert suspicion, and throw into doubt all hope of confounding the killer." was merely a perilous encounter with a highwayman-the better to divert suspicion, and throw into doubt all hope of confounding the killer."

"And why should any wish to trifle with Fielding's life in so terrible a manner?"

"Come, come, Mr. Sidmouth!" I cried. "Km are a man of the world. You You know what it is to inspire enemies, and to maintain a relation of enmity with another. Surely know what it is to inspire enemies, and to maintain a relation of enmity with another. Surely you you may supply a myriad of reasons for such an extraordinary course. You bore the Captain too little love, not to wish him as much ill-fortune as he was unhappy enough to endure." may supply a myriad of reasons for such an extraordinary course. You bore the Captain too little love, not to wish him as much ill-fortune as he was unhappy enough to endure."

"Are you suggesting that I wished him dead, Miss Austen? Or, worse still, that in wis.h.i.+ng him dead, I took measures to achieve my aim?" Mr. Sidmouth rose from his chair and crossed to where I sat, his powerful form overtaken by malevolence. I had an idea, of a sudden, what it should be to cross him in a matter of some importance to himself, and swallowed hard to overcome my fear.

"I suggest nothing," I replied.

"Miss Jane Austen of Bath never never speaks to little purpose.' 'He observed me narrowly. "You actually believe me capable of such foul conduct as Fielding suffered! Does my aspect betray me as so p.r.o.ne to violence, however just and warranted it might be? But no-" he said, wheeling about, "-it is unwise to enquire too closely of a lady whose aspect is so clouded with doubt. The answers should be too little to my liking." speaks to little purpose.' 'He observed me narrowly. "You actually believe me capable of such foul conduct as Fielding suffered! Does my aspect betray me as so p.r.o.ne to violence, however just and warranted it might be? But no-" he said, wheeling about, "-it is unwise to enquire too closely of a lady whose aspect is so clouded with doubt. The answers should be too little to my liking."

"Mr. Sidmouth-"

"Say nothing, Miss Austen, for good or ill," he said harshly; "you cannot know the effect your words should have. I am too little master of my feelings in the present moment to meet either your contempt or your concern with the attention they deserve."

And with that, he left me-in such a state of perturbation, that I barely disguised my sensibility before Sera-phine, who returned some moments later intent upon a walk.

"I MUST TELL YOU, MlSS AUSTEN, THAT GEOFFREY ESTEEMS YOU highly. It is his fondest wish that we should grow acquainted; and I am so desirous of company in my isolation, that I welcome his interest, and the benevolence it has inspired. You are very good to weary yourself in seeking the Grange."

I studied Seraphine's beautiful profile curiously. She spoke so frankly of her retirement from society, as though it were a sentence imposed by a merciless court, that I adjudged her amenable to some gentle questioning.

"I cannot help asking, Mademoiselle-how come you to be here, so far from your home, and quite without friends?"

"Home is a mere channel away, Miss Austen, and Geoffrey the greatest friend I have ever known," she replied quiedy. "But I understand what you would ask. France might as well be at the ends of the earth, for all the hope I have of returning-hope or desire, both being equally extinguished by my sad history. I have been in England nearly a decade, having fled the horrors of the guillotine at the age of fifteen."

"Your family suffered in the revolution?"

"Suffered!" Her lip curled expressively, and she turned to gaze out at the sea an instant, before resuming our pacing along the cliff's edge. "I saw my mother taken away in a cart, and my father; my three aunts, two of my uncles, and my eldest brother-all perished on the infernal machine."

"Good G.o.d!" I cried.

"Words cannot express the blood-l.u.s.t, the mad desire for revenge, the senseless hatred that compelled the people in those days. It was the sort of frenzy only rarely witnessed by rational beings-thank G.o.d."

"But how came you to escape?"

She shrugged and averted her gaze. "My relations in England exerted their energies on our behalf-you should know that Mr. Sidmouth is the son of my mother's sister-and for once they were successful. We were smuggled out of the prison beneath a load of refuse, and borne swiftly to Boulogne, there to embark upon a s.h.i.+p bound for this coast; and here I have remained ever since, walking these cliffs that I might gaze towards France, and remember those who did not escape."

"You speak in the plural, Mademoiselle," I said tentatively. "Was there some other other who escaped at your side?" who escaped at your side?"

"My youngest brother, Philippe. He was but ten at the time."

"A brother! How fortunate that you should be left with some some prop in the midst of tragedy-some confidant in sorrow! But where is your brother now, Mademoiselle? Away at school, perhaps?" prop in the midst of tragedy-some confidant in sorrow! But where is your brother now, Mademoiselle? Away at school, perhaps?"

To my surprise, she shrugged, the faintest of smiles overspreading her lips. "Philippe has returned to France. He is with Napoleon's army there."

"With Buonaparte?" I could not disguise my incredulity. "But how is such a thing possible?"

"How might a victim of the revolution throw his strength and ardour behind its greatest opportunist, you mean?" Seraphine said, with a delicately-lifted eyebrow. "Well might you ask. My cousin and I have spent many long hours in contemplation of it." She exhaled a gusty breath and drew the collar of her red cloak closer about her throat. "I cannot rightly say. I loved Philippe as almost a mother-I clung to his st.u.r.dy boyishness, his indomitable spirits-until the moment when he disappeared in the night, taking only a few belongings and leaving but a few words. Perhaps I never understood him-what it was to grow up as a dispossessed child, aware of his family's n.o.ble history, and the ruthlessness of its decline."

"Women arc more accepting of the vagaries of Fate, perhaps," I said thoughtfully. "We sit at home, and mourn in solitude, and find no oudet for our resdess tides of vengeance. It should not be remarkable that a young man should wish to make his way in the world, and resurrect the glory of his name, by any means that offer. We cannot judge rightly, without standing awhile in his skin, and feeling all the burden of outraged youth."

"But you forget, Miss Austen," Seraphine replied. "I have stood there. I have felt the outrage. I have railed against the bitterness of Fortune, and shaken my fist at every sun that rises again to s.h.i.+ne on the revolution's children, and I have hated Napoleon for his steady ascent. He climbs on the backs of the old aristocracy-who were cut down by men he has never disavowed, however little he formed a part of their schemes-and marries his generals to the orphaned daughters of the great. But I beg to hope, Miss Austen, that he will reach the height of power, only to discover that he has been ascending a scaffold- and that there is no escaping the noose"

I confess I was overwhelmed by the hardening of her tone and aspect; Seraphine seemed no longer an ethereal angel, but a woman clad in steel, and burnished by the sunlight thrown up from the sea.

"It would perhaps be justice," I observed, "did Napoleon fall as swiftly as he has ascended; but I do not believe it likely. Many years of blood and hopelessness remain, I fear, before vengeance may be done."

Seraphine turned a speculative eye upon my countenance. "That may be, Miss Austen; and then again, it may not. Time alone will tell."

"a.s.suredly," 1 said, in some confusion. For she spoke as though blessed with a more intimate knowledge of events than I should have credited in one so remote from their ordering.

We turned at the cliff's edge and walked on a few paces in silence, heads bowed against the fresh breeze off the sea. The pause in conversation afforded me the opportunity to recollect my true purpose in soliciting the mademoiselle's confidence-and for the s.p.a.ce of several strides, I gathered my courage to speak. We could not labour on entirely in silence, however, without some end to our exercise being precipitated; and so I forced myself to broach a subject that could not but be distasteful to the lady.

"How calm the sea looks!"? observed, with a careless air. "Quite unlike the afternoon when Captain Fielding and I espied the smuggler's cutter abandon its cargo, not far off the end of the Cobb. On that that occasion the seas were quite stiff, and the Navy s.h.i.+p that followed in pursuit made but poor progress, and came all too late behind." occasion the seas were quite stiff, and the Navy s.h.i.+p that followed in pursuit made but poor progress, and came all too late behind."

There was a delicate pause. Then, with what I judged to be an effort at composure, the mademoiselle enquired, "You were well acquainted with Captain Fielding?"

'Only a little. And 011?"

"As you say-only a little," she said, with a quick smile, that as quickly fled.

"He seems to have been everywhere acknowledged as possessing an admirable character."

"Indeed."

A few more paces in silence, and I made another attempt. "However little you thought yourself yourself acquainted with Captain Fielding, your well-being and happiness were clearly of some concern to the gentleman. He spoke well of you in my hearing on several occasions, and expressed some anxiety regarding your-situation-at the Grange." acquainted with Captain Fielding, your well-being and happiness were clearly of some concern to the gentleman. He spoke well of you in my hearing on several occasions, and expressed some anxiety regarding your-situation-at the Grange."

"I do not doubt he mentioned my situation, situation, as you put it," Seraphine said, her contempt flaring unchecked. "Captain Fielding was an officious and arrogant man, who little cared what damage his as you put it," Seraphine said, her contempt flaring unchecked. "Captain Fielding was an officious and arrogant man, who little cared what damage his concern concern might do." might do."

"You regarded his interest as interference?" I rejoined quickly.

She turned and studied my countenance quizzically, while I endeavoured to a.s.sume as clear an aspect of innocence as my own sense of guilt should allow.

"Would not you you have done the same, Miss Austen, when a gentieman's meddling occasioned the worst sort of calumny, and the grossest of lies, to be heaped upon a cousin you esteemed as dearly as a brother? But how come you to wonder so much about the affairs of people, of whom you know so little?" have done the same, Miss Austen, when a gentieman's meddling occasioned the worst sort of calumny, and the grossest of lies, to be heaped upon a cousin you esteemed as dearly as a brother? But how come you to wonder so much about the affairs of people, of whom you know so little?"

This was abruptness indeed; and I felt the chastening power of her words as severely as a lash. Groping for some justification, however, I fell back upon events. was abruptness indeed; and I felt the chastening power of her words as severely as a lash. Groping for some justification, however, I fell back upon events.

"It is just that the Captain's tragic end, Mademoiselle, has thrown his whole life into question-do not you agree?" I gestured towards the road, just visible at the foot of the downs behind our backs, and emptied now of any conveyance. "How strange to think that the gallant Captain shall drive the Charmouth road no more, when only a week ago I sat beside him in his barouche. The suddenness of events is inexplicable; and the mind struggles for comprehension/'

My excuses availed me nothing, however; Seraphine had stiffened beside me, and was grown as remote as marble-expressionless, opaque, and no doubt chill to the touch. My words might have been all unspoken.

I perceived no alternative but persistence, all the same. "The news was quite shocking, was it not?"

She stirred herself at last, but betrayed nothing of her emotion. "The news of the Captain's death? I suppose it was. Certainly? had not looked for it."

"But you found it not incredible?"

"I found it to be justice, Miss Austen, however curiously achieved," she cried, in some exasperation. "One cannot be otherwise than satisfied when justice is done."

Whatever I had expected, it was hardly this-an avowal of nothing and everything at once.

"I do not pretend to understand you, Mademoiselle. Had the Captain committed some infamy of which I am unaware?"