A Passionate Pilgrim

ertainly of telegraphic curtness), lost no time in expressing the pleasure it would give her that our friend should rema

he know of my being here

ourhood, and Mr. Searle, learning this, has immediately taken for granted that you’ve formally presented yourself to his sister. He’s hospitably inclined and wishes her to do the proper thing by you. There may even,” I went on, “be more in it than that. I’

friend mused. “Co

, “are included in my brother’s invitation. I’ve told them to see

oad latticed casement through which there streamed upon a series of grotesquely sculptured oaken closets and cupboards the vivid animating glow of the western sun — knocked at his door and, getting no answer, opened it. In an armchair by the open window sat my friend asleep, his arms and legs relaxed and head dropped on his breast. It was a great relief to see him rest thus from his rhapsodies, and I watc

you dreami

in a quaint black dress, with yellow hair and a sweet, sweet

out her,” I said. “Get up and dress; the

dually opened his eyes again. “

live to bury Mr. Simmons.” He told me he had spent the hours of my absence with Miss Sear

ole I’ve treated her to!” They had parted an hour a

ire was crackling. Before the fire stood a small short man, with his hands behind him; near him was Miss Searle, so transformed by her dress that at first I scarcely knew her. There was in our entrance and reception something remarkably chilling and solemn. We moved in silence up the long room; Mr. Searle advanced slowly, a dozen steps, to meet us; his sister stood motionless. I was conscious of her masking her visage with a large

most with the nose of my friend. His eyes, large and deep-set, had a kind of auburn glow, the suggestion of a keen metal red-hot — or, more plainly, were full of temper and spirit. Imagine this physiognomy — grave and solemn, grotesquely solemn, in spite of the bushy brightness which made a sort of frame for it — set in motion by a queer, quick, defiant, perfunctory, preoccupied smile, and you will have an imperfect notion of the remarkable presence of our host; something better worth seeing and knowing, I perceived as I quite breathlessly took him in, than anything we had yet encountered. How thoroughly I had entered into sympathy with my poor picked-up friend, and how effectually I had associated my sensibilities with his own, I had not su

cosely to conduct him. As dinner proceeded the feeling grew within me that a drama had begun to be played in which the three persons before me were actors — each of a really arduous part. The character allotted to my friend, however, was certainly the least easy to represent with effect, though I overflowed with the desire that he should acquit himself to his honour. I seemed to see him urge his faded faculties to take their cue and perform. The poor fellow tried to do himself credit more seriously than ever in his old best days. With Miss Searle, credulous passive and pitying, he had finally flung aside all vanity and propriety and shown the bottom of his fantastic heart. But with our host there might be no talkin

indeed as of some fabled planet, alien to the British orbit, lately proclaimed to have the admixture of atmospheric gases required to support animal life, but not, save under cover of a liberal afterthought, to be adm

he and I were rather cronies; I think he afterwards went to the Middle States. They’ll be, I suppose, about the Mississippi? At all events, there was that great-uncle of mine whom Sir Joshua painted. He went to America, but he never got there. He was lost at sea. You look enough like him to make one fancy he DID get there and that yo

cried Miss Searl

” he rather dryly allowed. “You’re too soun

friend, the light of his previous eagerness playing up into his eyes. “Wh

opened upon him in vain the battery of her attractions; in vain his mother urged her cause. Clement remained cold, insensible, inflexible. Mrs. Searle had a character which appears to have gone out of fashion in my family nowadays; she was a great manager, a maitresse-femme. A proud passionate imperious woman, she had had immense cares and ever so many law-suits; they had sharpened her temper and her will. She suspected that her son’s affections had another object, and this object she began to hate. Irritated by his stubborn defiance of her wishes she persisted in her purpose. The more she watched him the more she was convinced he loved in secret. If he loved in secret of course he loved beneath him. He went about the place all sombre and sullen and brooding. At last, with the rashness of an angry woman, she threatened to bring the young lady of her choice — who, by the way, seems to have been no shrinking blossom — to stay in the house. A stormy scene was the result. He threatened that if she did so he would leave the country and sail for America. She probably disbelieved him; she knew him to be weak, but she overrated his weakness. At all events the rejected on

, the happiest art; when he ceased there was a pause of some mo

oor devil my faithless namesake. But I should be immensely gratified if the young lady’s spirit, deceived by my resemblance, were to mistake me for

d then had a subtle sneer. “I

to care what he said or how he said it, so long as he expressed his passionate appreciation of the scene around him. As he kept up this strain I ceased even secretly to wish he wouldn’t. I have wondered since that I shouldn’t have been annoyed by the way he reverted constantly to himself. But a great frankness, for the time, makes its own law and a great

traps for it, and watch it like the dawning brownness of a meerschaum pipe, and make it fast, when it appears, just where it peeps out, and light a votive taper

man talking about?” sai

ir this morning,” Miss Se

paid it every respec

e in my hand-glass,” she answe

I interposed in the hope of some greater ease. It had its effect. “Ten yea

e ten years ago! I should have had more time to enjoy the feast, bu

of these ten years that we might have been enjoying you!” At the

n if there ever was one — that to come abroad properly one had to have a po

cy, but he proceeded. “You’re re

ay the veil. “Reduced to nothing. S

g; and then, in his whimsical way, went on to finish a glass of wine. His searching eye, as he drank, met mine, and for a moment we each rather de

to have been desired. He was rapidly drifting beyond any tacit dissuasion of mine. He was feverish and rash, and all attempt to direct would now simply irritate him. As we rose from

assed slowly from one to another, with a dim expectant presence. We had thus, in spite of everything, a wonderful hour of it. Mr. Searle at once assumed the part of cicerone, and — I had not hitherto done him justice — Mr. Searle became almost agreeable. While I lingered behind with his sister he walked in advance with his kinsman. It was as if he had said: “Well, if you want the old place you shall have it — so far as the impression goes!” He spared us no thrill — I had almost said no pang — of that experi

you and your cousin are alm

angely new! My cousin, my cousin”— and her voice lingered on the word —“it seems so strange to call him my cou

as his situation, that deserve

sts me so much.” She gave a sweet-sounding sigh. “I wish I could have known hi

point. But his position had in fact become to my sense so precarious that I hardly ventured to be glad. “His better self just now se

blankly. “Dear m

to wonder at. But let him simply enjoy a while the grateful sense of your nearness and dearness. He’ll b

lessness. “It’s a hard part

e no choice but to be absolutely fran

ching her with her insignificance.

an your old-fashioned habits. Pardon me if I seem rather meddlesome; you know

ou’re laughing at me. I f

you feel

companions. “My cousin’s arrival’s a

im? In that case the fault’s mine. He had n

nd it in my heart to regret it. I never shall regret

Is any harm to come of it? I did

gravely. “You don

tone of my voice — of the antipathy with which, decidedly, this gentleman had inspired me. “Not perhaps that w

ing sidelong glance.

elf of antiquities, just at such an angle that he caught the reflexion of his sister’s person. It was evident that I too was unde

was as if she were standing on the edge of a place where the ground had suddenly fallen away, and had been called up

me,” I

otested. “Oh what a dreadf

y wish you may suspect on your brother’s part notwithstanding.” She

ng so pa

r co

cousin! But

moved away across the lon

-painted flesh-tints showed livid, in the candle-light, against her dark drapery and background. “This is Mrs. Margaret Searle — a sort of Beatrix Esmond — qui se passait ses fantaisies. She married a paltr

old papers, a letter from the lady in question to a certain Cynthia Searle, her elder sister. It was dated from Paris and dreadfully ill-spelled. It contained a most passionate appeal for pecuniary assist

ng a Frenchman!” I

is the only lady of the family who

sked my friend with a stare at the rou

nothing!” said our

s. Margaret,” their guest returned; and

lighted rooms. “You’ve found a cousin with a ve

” my entertainer

n an interest in your annals

bad invalid,” he added in a moment.

sent; but he went on with a fury of frankness, as if it were the first time in his life he had opened himself to any one, as if the process were highly disagreeable and he were hurrying through it as a task. “An honest man, mind you! I know nothing about Mr. Clement Searle! I never expected to see him. He has been to me a — a —!” And here he paused to select a word which should v

aven, is an hones

rning almost fiercely on me, “has he put f

gan afresh, “if I speak of this matter with heat. But I’ve been more disgusted than I can say to hear, as I heard this morning from my solicitor, of the extraordinary proceedings of Mr. Clement Searle. Gracious goodness, sir, for what does the man take me? He pretends to the Lord knows what fantastic admiration for my place. Let him then show his respect for it by not taking too many liberties! Let him, with

discreetly. “Your apprehensions, sir,” I said at last, “your not unnatural surprise, perhaps, at the candour of our interest, have acted too much on your nerves. You’re attacking a man of straw, a creature of u

of my suggestion, his great eyes of alarm glowing and his strange red hair erect and

ow of the archway, and bright again in the lamplight at the entrance of the hall. As he crossed the threshold the butler made an appearance at the head of the staircase on our left, faltering visibly a moment at sight of Mr. Searle; after which, noting my friend, he gravely descended. He bore in his hand a small silver tray. On the tray, gleaming in the light of the suspended lam

said Tottenh

u are. For whom

tler, staring straight before him and

ve it t

sonage, I afterwards learned,

it Mrs.

part just an infinitesi

ium, his ancient ease, completely restored b

t was clear, now so furiously detested them that I was afraid he would snatch the bone of contenti

!” broke out my companio

sessed myself of it. “If you’ve no consideration for your sister let a strang

t does this horrid business

er ornaments and begun to disarrange her hair, a thick tress of which escaped from the comb. She hurried down with a pale questioning face. Feeling distinctly that, for ourselves, immediate departure was in the air, and div

wrist that escaped from the loose sleeve of her dr

scattered fragments and then a

nk you for it!

ferred them to her brother’s face, where the sense went out of them, only to leave a dull sad patience. But there was something even in this flat

hted and distorted and the reflected brightness of his happy day turned to blank c

and what and why and whence?” the terrible little man continued. “From what paradise of fools do you come that you fancy I shall make over to you, for the asking, a part of my propert

eated himself on a bench against the wall and rubbed his forehead amaz

it enough that you should have plotted against my rights? Nee

oh, oh!” he groaned while Miss Searle crosse

u fool!” shrie

, “it’s cruel you’re to

OU as you’d like!” He

e nothing wrong,” she

etween us. You were welcome to my meat and my wine, but I wonder you could swallow them. The sight spoiled MY appetite!” c

mproved a good deal since you gave it

ertainer shook his shining head at me. “It’s very kind of

dversary. “Ah miserable man — I thought

ocrite!” scre

f against the accusation of any real indelicacy — to prove I’ve done nothing underhand or impudent? Think w

t the same moment a footman descended with our two portma

lation that, after all that had happened, had the grandest comicality. “

sibly touching in one for whom great efforts were visibly new and s

m,” her brother interrupted, “y

ts of kind things!” Sea

ply. “It was only a word of warning. It was to te

“I shall equally never forget. Knowing you,” and he offered his hand to Miss Searle,

has come of it!” Mr. Sear

sed eyes and some collapse of strength, “I’m afraid so, I can’t stand more,” he went on. I gave hi

yet, I take it!” her brother

on him fiercely. “You very impo

l force you to prosecute! I shall drag you into court, and you shall be b

aret Searle. She seemed frightened and troubled, and she used just the words her brother had used —‘I know nothing.’ For the moment, somehow, I felt as a man drunk. I stood before her and told her, with great emphasis, how poor Margaret had married a beggarly foreigner — all in obedience to her heart and in defiance to her family. As I talked the sheeted moonlight seemed to close about us, so that we stood there in a dream, in a world quite detached. She grew younger, prettier, more attractive — I found myself talking all kinds of nonsense. Before I knew it I had gone very far. I was taking her hand and calling her ‘Margaret, dear Margaret!’ She had said it was impossible, that she could do nothing, that she was a fool, a child, a slave. Then with a sudden sense

writing. I heard the great clock in the little parlour below strike twelve, one, half-past one. Just as the vibration of this last stroke was dying on the air the door of communication with Searle’s room was flung open and my compa

odness, what

to dreadful words. How do I look? Am I human? Am I pale? Am I

with extraordinary force. I asked no questions, but waited there, very curious for what he would say. At last he spoke. “I’m not frightened, but I’m — oh excited! This is life! This is living! My nerves — my heart — my brain! They’re throbbing — don’t you feel it? Do you tingle? Are you hot? Are you cold? Hold me tight — tight — tight! I shall tremble away into waves — into surges — and know all the secrets of things and all the reasons and all the mysteries!” He paused a moment and then went on: “A woman — as clear as that candle: no, far clearer! In a blue dress, with a black mantle

rom a chill I removed my bedding and wrapped him in the blankets and counterpane. I had no nerves either for writing or for sleep; so I put out my lights, renewed the fuel and sat down on the opposite side of the hearth. I found it a great and high solemnity just to watch my companion. Silent, swathed and muffled to his chin, he sat rigid and erect with the dignity of his adventure. For the most part his eyes were closed; though from time to time he would open them with a steady expansion and stare, never blinking, into the flame, as if he again beheld without terror the image of the little woman with the muff. His cadaverous emaciated face,

have represented the slow prompting of an inner voice. “You asked me when you first knew me what I was. ‘Nothing,’ I said, ‘nothing

ve unmanageable. As morning began fully to dawn upon us I brought our curious vigil to a close. Searle was so enfeebled that I gave him my hands to help him out of his chair, and he retained them for some moments after rising to his feet, unable as he seemed to keep his balanc

Poor fellow,” he said, “you’ve got more than you bargained for — not only a man with a grievance but a man with a ghost. Well, it won’t be for long!” It had of course promptly become a question whither we should now direct our steps. “As I’ve so little time,