I THINK a series of circumstances dated from Signor Brunoni's visit to
Cranford, which seemed at the time connected in our minds with him, though I
don't know that he had anything really to do with them. All at once all sorts of
uncomfortable rumours got afloat in the town. There were one or two robberies -
real BONA FIDE robberies; men had up before the magistrates and committed for
trial - and that seemed to make us all afraid of being robbed; and for a long
time, at Miss Matty's, I know, we used to make a regular expedition all round
the kitchens and cellars every night, Miss Matty leading the way, armed with the
poker, I following with the hearth-brush, and Martha carrying the shovel and
fire-irons with which to sound the alarm; and by the accidental hitting together
of them she often frightened us so much that we bolted ourselves up, all three
together, in the back-kitchen, or store-room, or wherever we happened to be,
till, when our affright was over, we recollected ourselves and set out afresh
with double valiance. By day we heard strange stories from the shopkeepers and
cottagers, of carts that went about in the dead of night, drawn by horses shod
with felt, and guarded by men in dark clothes, going round the town, no doubt in
search of some unwatched house or some unfastened door.
Miss Pole, who affected great bravery herself, was the principal person to
collect and arrange these reports so as to make them assume their most fearful
aspect. But we discovered that she had begged one of Mr Hoggins's worn-out hats
to hang up in her lobby, and we (at least I) had doubts as to whether she really
would enjoy the little adventure of having her house broken into, as she
protested she should. Miss Matty made no secret of being an arrant coward, but
she went regularly through her housekeeper's duty of inspection - only the hour
for this became earlier and earlier, till at last we went the rounds at
half-past six, and Miss Matty adjourned to bed soon after seven, "in order to
get the night over the sooner."
Cranford had so long piqued itself on being an honest and moral town that it
had grown to fancy itself too genteel and well-bred to be otherwise, and felt
the stain upon its character at this time doubly. But we comforted ourselves
with the assurance which we gave to each other that the robberies could never
have been committed by any Cranford person; it must have been a stranger or
strangers who brought this disgrace upon the town, and occasioned as many
precautions as if we were living among the Red Indians or the French.
This last comparison of our nightly state of defence and fortification was
made by Mrs Forrester, whose father had served under General Burgoyne in the
American war, and whose husband had fought the French in Spain. She indeed
inclined to the idea that, in some way, the French were connected with the small
thefts, which were ascertained facts, and the burglaries and highway robberies,
which were rumours. She had been deeply impressed with the idea of French spies
at some time in her life; and the notion could never be fairly eradicated, but
sprang up again from time to time. And now her theory was this:- The Cranford
people respected themselves too much, and were too grateful to the aristocracy
who were so kind as to live near the town, ever to disgrace their bringing up by
being dishonest or immoral; therefore, we must believe that the robbers were
strangers - if strangers, why not foreigners? - if foreigners, who so likely as
the French? Signor Brunoni spoke broken English like a Frenchman; and, though he
wore a turban like a Turk, Mrs Forrester had seen a print of Madame de Stael
with a turban on, and another of Mr Denon in just such a dress as that in which
the conjuror had made his appearance, showing clearly that the French, as well
as the Turks, wore turbans. There could be no doubt Signor Brunoni was a
Frenchman - a French spy come to discover the weak and undefended places of
England, and doubtless he had his accomplices. For her part, she, Mrs Forrester,
had always had her own opinion of Miss Pole's adventure at the "George Inn" -
seeing two men where only one was believed to be. French people had ways and
means which, she was thankful to say, the English knew nothing about; and she
had never felt quite easy in her mind about going to see that conjuror - it was
rather too much like a forbidden thing, though the rector was there. In short,
Mrs Forrester grew more excited than we had ever known her before, and, being an
officer's daughter and widow, we looked up to her opinion, of course.
Really I do not know how much was true or false in the reports which flew
about like wildfire just at this time; but it seemed to me then that there was
every reason to believe that at Mardon (a small town about eight miles from
Cranford) houses and shops were entered by holes made in the walls, the bricks
being silently carried away in the dead of the night, and all done so quietly
that no sound was heard either in or out of the house. Miss Matty gave it up in
despair when she heard of this. "What was the use," said she, "of locks and
bolts, and bells to the windows, and going round the house every night? That
last trick was fit for a conjuror. Now she did believe that Signor Brunoni was
at the bottom of it."
One afternoon, about five o'clock, we were startled by a hasty knock at the
door. Miss Matty bade me run and tell Martha on no account to open the door till
she (Miss Matty) had reconnoitred through the window; and she armed herself with
a footstool to drop down on the head of the visitor, in case he should show a
face covered with black crape, as he looked up in answer to her inquiry of who
was there. But it was nobody but Miss Pole and Betty. The former came upstairs,
carrying a little hand-basket, and she was evidently in a state of great
agitation.
"Take care of that!" said she to me, as I offered to relieve her of her
basket. "It's my plate. I am sure there is a plan to rob my house to-night. I am
come to throw myself on your hospitality, Miss Matty. Betty is going to sleep
with her cousin at the 'George.' I can sit up here all night if you will allow
me; but my house is so far from any neighbours, and I don't believe we could be
heard if we screamed ever so!"
"But," said Miss Matty, "what has alarmed you so much? Have you seen any men
lurking about the house?"
"Oh, yes!" answered Miss Pole. "Two very bad-looking men have gone three
times past the house, very slowly; and an Irish beggar-woman came not
half-an-hour ago, and all but forced herself in past Betty, saying her children
were starving, and she must speak to the mistress. You see, she said 'mistress,'
though there was a hat hanging up in the hall, and it would have been more
natural to have said 'master.' But Betty shut the door in her face, and came up
to me, and we got the spoons together, and sat in the parlour-window watching
till we saw Thomas Jones going from his work, when we called to him and asked
him to take care of us into the town."
We might have triumphed over Miss Pole, who had professed such bravery until
she was frightened; but we were too glad to perceive that she shared in the
weaknesses of humanity to exult over her; and I gave up my room to her very
willingly, and shared Miss Matty's bed for the night. But before we retired, the
two ladies rummaged up, out of the recesses of their memory, such horrid stories
of robbery and murder that I quite quaked in my shoes. Miss Pole was evidently
anxious to prove that such terrible events had occurred within her experience
that she was justified in her sudden panic; and Miss Matty did not like to be
outdone, and capped every story with one yet more horrible, till it reminded me
oddly enough, of an old story I had read somewhere, of a nightingale and a
musician, who strove one against the other which could produce the most
admirable music, till poor Philomel dropped down dead.
One of the stories that haunted me for a long time afterwards was of a girl
who was left in charge of a great house in Cumberland on some particular
fair-day, when the other servants all went off to the gaieties. The family were
away in London, and a pedlar came by, and asked to leave his large and heavy
pack in the kitchen, saying he would call for it again at night; and the girl (a
gamekeeper's daughter), roaming about in search of amusement, chanced to hit
upon a gun hanging up in the hall, and took it down to look at the chasing; and
it went off through the open kitchen door, hit the pack, and a slow dark thread
of blood came oozing out. (How Miss Pole enjoyed this part of the story,
dwelling on each word as if she loved it!) She rather hurried over the further
account of the girl's bravery, and I have but a confused idea that, somehow, she
baffled the robbers with Italian irons, heated red- hot, and then restored to
blackness by being dipped in grease.
We parted for the night with an awe-stricken wonder as to what we should hear
of in the morning - and, on my part, with a vehement desire for the night to be
over and gone: I was so afraid lest the robbers should have seen, from some dark
lurking-place, that Miss Pole had carried off her plate, and thus have a double
motive for attacking our house.
But until Lady Glenmire came to call next day we heard of nothing unusual.
The kitchen fire-irons were in exactly the same position against the back door
as when Martha and I had skilfully piled them up, like spillikins, ready to fall
with an awful clatter if only a cat had touched the outside panels. I had
wondered what we should all do if thus awakened and alarmed, and had proposed to
Miss Matty that we should cover up our faces under the bedclothes so that there
should be no danger of the robbers thinking that we could identify them; but
Miss Matty, who was trembling very much, scouted this idea, and said we owed it
to society to apprehend them, and that she should certainly do her best to lay
hold of them and lock them up in the garret till morning.
When Lady Glenmire came, we almost felt jealous of her. Mrs Jamieson's house
had really been attacked; at least there were men's footsteps to be seen on the
flower borders, underneath the kitchen windows, "where nae men should be;" and
Carlo had barked all through the night as if strangers were abroad. Mrs Jamieson
had been awakened by Lady Glenmire, and they had rung the bell which
communicated with Mr Mulliner's room in the third storey, and when his
night-capped head had appeared over the bannisters, in answer to the summons,
they had told him of their alarm, and the reasons for it; whereupon he retreated
into his bedroom, and locked the door (for fear of draughts, as he informed them
in the morning), and opened the window, and called out valiantly to say, if the
supposed robbers would come to him he would fight them; but, as Lady Glenmire
observed, that was but poor comfort, since they would have to pass by Mrs
Jamieson's room and her own before they could reach him, and must be of a very
pugnacious disposition indeed if they neglected the opportunities of robbery
presented by the unguarded lower storeys, to go up to a garret, and there force
a door in order to get at the champion of the house. Lady Glenmire, after
waiting and listening for some time in the drawing- room, had proposed to Mrs
Jamieson that they should go to bed; but that lady said she should not feel
comfortable unless she sat up and watched; and, accordingly, she packed herself
warmly up on the sofa, where she was found by the housemaid, when she came into
the room at six o'clock, fast asleep; but Lady Glenmire went to bed, and kept
awake all night.
When Miss Pole heard of this, she nodded her head in great satisfaction. She
had been sure we should hear of something happening in Cranford that night; and
we had heard. It was clear enough they had first proposed to attack her house;
but when they saw that she and Betty were on their guard, and had carried off
the plate, they had changed their tactics and gone to Mrs Jamieson's, and no one
knew what might have happened if Carlo had not barked, like a good dog as he
was!
Poor Carlo! his barking days were nearly over. Whether the gang who infested
the neighbourhood were afraid of him, or whether they were revengeful enough,
for the way in which he had baffled them on the night in question, to poison
him; or whether, as some among the more uneducated people thought, he died of
apoplexy, brought on by too much feeding and too little exercise; at any rate,
it is certain that, two days after this eventful night, Carlo was found dead,
with his poor legs stretched out stiff in the attitude of running, as if by such
unusual exertion he could escape the sure pursuer, Death.
We were all sorry for Carlo, the old familiar friend who had snapped at us
for so many years; and the mysterious mode of his death made us very
uncomfortable. Could Signor Brunoni be at the bottom of this? He had apparently
killed a canary with only a word of command; his will seemed of deadly force;
who knew but what he might yet be lingering in the neighbourhood willing all
sorts of awful things!
We whispered these fancies among ourselves in the evenings; but in the
mornings our courage came back with the daylight, and in a week's time we had
got over the shock of Carlo's death; all but Mrs Jamieson. She, poor thing, felt
it as she had felt no event since her husband's death; indeed, Miss Pole said,
that as the Honourable Mr Jamieson drank a good deal, and occasioned her much
uneasiness, it was possible that Carlo's death might be the greater affliction.
But there was always a tinge of cynicism in Miss Pole's remarks. However, one
thing was clear and certain - it was necessary for Mrs Jamieson to have some
change of scene; and Mr Mulliner was very impressive on this point, shaking his
head whenever we inquired after his mistress, and speaking of her loss of
appetite and bad nights very ominously; and with justice too, for if she had two
characteristics in her natural state of health they were a facility of eating
and sleeping. If she could neither eat nor sleep, she must be indeed out of
spirits and out of health.
Lady Glenmire (who had evidently taken very kindly to Cranford) did not like
the idea of Mrs Jamieson's going to Cheltenham, and more than once insinuated
pretty plainly that it was Mr Mulliner's doing, who had been much alarmed on the
occasion of the house being attacked, and since had said, more than once, that
he felt it a very responsible charge to have to defend so many women. Be that as
it might, Mrs Jamieson went to Cheltenham, escorted by Mr Mulliner; and Lady
Glenmire remained in possession of the house, her ostensible office being to
take care that the maid-servants did not pick up followers. She made a very
pleasant-looking dragon; and, as soon as it was arranged for her stay in
Cranford, she found out that Mrs Jamieson's visit to Cheltenham was just the
best thing in the world. She had let her house in Edinburgh, and was for the
time house-less, so the charge of her sister-in-law's comfortable abode was very
convenient and acceptable.
Miss Pole was very much inclined to instal herself as a heroine, because of
the decided steps she had taken in flying from the two men and one woman, whom
she entitled "that murderous gang." She described their appearance in glowing
colours, and I noticed that every time she went over the story some fresh trait
of villainy was added to their appearance. One was tall - he grew to be gigantic
in height before we had done with him; he of course had black hair - and
by-and-by it hung in elf-locks over his forehead and down his back. The other
was short and broad - and a hump sprouted out on his shoulder before we heard
the last of him; he had red hair - which deepened into carroty; and she was
almost sure he had a cast in the eye - a decided squint. As for the woman, her
eyes glared, and she was masculine-looking - a perfect virago; most probably a
man dressed in woman's clothes; afterwards, we heard of a beard on her chin, and
a manly voice and a stride.
If Miss Pole was delighted to recount the events of that afternoon to all
inquirers, others were not so proud of their adventures in the robbery line. Mr
Hoggins, the surgeon, had been attacked at his own door by two ruffians, who
were concealed in the shadow of the porch, and so effectually silenced him that
he was robbed in the interval between ringing his bell and the servant's
answering it. Miss Pole was sure it would turn out that this robbery had been
commited by "her men," and went the very day she heard the report to have her
teeth examined, and to question Mr Hoggins. She came to us afterwards; so we
heard what she had heard, straight and direct from the source, while we were yet
in the excitement and flutter of the agitation caused by the first intelligence;
for the event had only occurred the night before.
"Well!" said Miss Pole, sitting down with the decision of a person who has
made up her mind as to the nature of life and the world (and such people never
tread lightly, or seat themselves without a bump), "well, Miss Matty! men will
be men. Every mother's son of them wishes to be considered Samson and Solomon
rolled into one - too strong ever to be beaten or discomfited - too wise ever to
be outwitted. If you will notice, they have always foreseen events, though they
never tell one for one's warning before the events happen. My father was a man,
and I know the sex pretty well."
She had talked herself out of breath, and we should have been very glad to
fill up the necessary pause as chorus, but we did not exactly know what to say,
or which man had suggested this diatribe against the sex; so we only joined in
generally, with a grave shake of the head, and a soft murmur of "They are very
incomprehensible, certainly!"
"Now, only think," said she. "There, I have undergone the risk of having one
of my remaining teeth drawn (for one is terribly at the mercy of any
surgeon-dentist; and I, for one, always speak them fair till I have got my mouth
out of their clutches), and, after all, Mr Hoggins is too much of a man to own
that he was robbed last night."
"Not robbed!" exclaimed the chorus.
"Don't tell me!" Miss Pole exclaimed, angry that we could be for a moment
imposed upon. "I believe he was robbed, just as Betty told me, and he is ashamed
to own it; and, to be sure, it was very silly of him to be robbed just at his
own door; I daresay he feels that such a thing won't raise him in the eyes of
Cranford society, and is anxious to conceal it - but he need not have tried to
impose upon me, by saying I must have heard an exaggerated account of some petty
theft of a neck of mutton, which, it seems, was stolen out of the safe in his
yard last week; he had the impertinence to add, he believed that that was taken
by the cat. I have no doubt, if I could get at the bottom of it, it was that
Irishman dressed up in woman's clothes, who came spying about my house, with the
story about the starving children."
After we had duly condemned the want of candour which Mr Hoggins had evinced,
and abused men in general, taking him for the representative and type, we got
round to the subject about which we had been talking when Miss Pole came in;
namely, how far, in the present disturbed state of the country, we could venture
to accept an invitation which Miss Matty had just received from Mrs Forrester,
to come as usual and keep the anniversary of her wedding-day by drinking tea
with her at five o'clock, and playing a quiet pool afterwards. Mrs Forrester had
said that she asked us with some diffidence, because the roads were, she feared,
very unsafe. But she suggested that perhaps one of us would not object to take
the sedan, and that the others, by walking briskly, might keep up with the long
trot of the chairmen, and so we might all arrive safely at Over Place, a suburb
of the town. (No; that is too large an expression: a small cluster of houses
separated from Cranford by about two hundred yards of a dark and lonely lane.)
There was no doubt but that a similar note was awaiting Miss Pole at home; so
her call was a very fortunate affair, as it enabled us to consult together. We
would all much rather have declined this invitation; but we felt that it would
not be quite kind to Mrs Forrester, who would otherwise be left to a solitary
retrospect of her not very happy or fortunate life. Miss Matty and Miss Pole had
been visitors on this occasion for many years, and now they gallantly determined
to nail their colours to the mast, and to go through Darkness Lane rather than
fail in loyalty to their friend.
But when the evening came, Miss Matty (for it was she who was voted into the
chair, as she had a cold), before being shut down in the sedan, like
jack-in-a-box, implored the chairmen, whatever might befall, not to run away and
leave her fastened up there, to be murdered; and even after they had promised, I
saw her tighten her features into the stern determination of a martyr, and she
gave me a melancholy and ominous shake of the head through the glass. However,
we got there safely, only rather out of breath, for it was who could trot
hardest through Darkness Lane, and I am afraid poor Miss Matty was sadly jolted.
Mrs Forrester had made extra preparations, in acknowledgment of our exertion
in coming to see her through such dangers. The usual forms of genteel ignorance
as to what her servants might send up were all gone through; and harmony and
Preference seemed likely to be the order of the evening, but for an interesting
conversation that began I don't know how, but which had relation, of course, to
the robbers who infested the neighbourhood of Cranford.
Having braved the dangers of Darkness Lane, and thus having a little stock of
reputation for courage to fall back upon; and also, I daresay, desirous of
proving ourselves superior to men (VIDELICET Mr Hoggins) in the article of
candour, we began to relate our individual fears, and the private precautions we
each of us took. I owned that my pet apprehension was eyes - eyes looking at me,
and watching me, glittering out from some dull, flat, wooden surface; and that
if I dared to go up to my looking-glass when I was panic- stricken, I should
certainly turn it round, with its back towards me, for fear of seeing eyes
behind me looking out of the darkness. I saw Miss Matty nerving herself up for a
confession; and at last out it came. She owned that, ever since she had been a
girl, she had dreaded being caught by her last leg, just as she was getting into
bed, by some one concealed under it. She said, when she was younger and more
active, she used to take a flying leap from a distance, and so bring both her
legs up safely into bed at once; but that this had always annoyed Deborah, who
piqued herself upon getting into bed gracefully, and she had given it up in
consequence. But now the old terror would often come over her, especially since
Miss Pole's house had been attacked (we had got quite to believe in the fact of
the attack having taken place), and yet it was very unpleasant to think of
looking under a bed, and seeing a man concealed, with a great, fierce face
staring out at you; so she had bethought herself of something - perhaps I had
noticed that she had told Martha to buy her a penny ball, such as children play
with - and now she rolled this ball under the bed every night: if it came out on
the other side, well and good; if not she always took care to have her hand on
the bell-rope, and meant to call out John and Harry, just as if she expected
men- servants to answer her ring.
We all applauded this ingenious contrivance, and Miss Matty sank back into
satisfied silence, with a look at Mrs Forrester as if to ask for HER private
weakness.
Mrs Forrester looked askance at Miss Pole, and tried to change the subject a
little by telling us that she had borrowed a boy from one of the neighbouring
cottages and promised his parents a hundredweight of coals at Christmas, and his
supper every evening, for the loan of him at nights. She had instructed him in
his possible duties when he first came; and, finding him sensible, she had given
him the Major's sword (the Major was her late husband), and desired him to put
it very carefully behind his pillow at night, turning the edge towards the head
of the pillow. He was a sharp lad, she was sure; for, spying out the Major's
cocked hat, he had said, if he might have that to wear, he was sure he could
frighten two Englishmen, or four Frenchmen any day. But she had impressed upon
him anew that he was to lose no time in putting on hats or anything else; but,
if he heard any noise, he was to run at it with his drawn sword. On my
suggesting that some accident might occur from such slaughterous and
indiscriminate directions, and that he might rush on Jenny getting up to wash,
and have spitted her before he had discovered that she was not a Frenchman, Mrs
Forrester said she did not think that that was likely, for he was a very sound
sleeper, and generally had to be well shaken or cold- pigged in a morning before
they could rouse him. She sometimes thought such dead sleep must be owing to the
hearty suppers the poor lad ate, for he was half-starved at home, and she told
Jenny to see that he got a good meal at night.
Still this was no confession of Mrs Forrester's peculiar timidity, and we
urged her to tell us what she thought would frighten her more than anything. She
paused, and stirred the fire, and snuffed the candles, and then she said, in a
sounding whisper -
"Ghosts!"
She looked at Miss Pole, as much as to say, she had declared it, and would
stand by it. Such a look was a challenge in itself. Miss Pole came down upon her
with indigestion, spectral illusions, optical delusions, and a great deal out of
Dr Ferrier and Dr Hibbert besides. Miss Matty had rather a leaning to ghosts, as
I have mentioned before, and what little she did say was all on Mrs Forrester's
side, who, emboldened by sympathy, protested that ghosts were a part of her
religion; that surely she, the widow of a major in the army, knew what to be
frightened at, and what not; in short, I never saw Mrs Forrester so warm either
before or since, for she was a gentle, meek, enduring old lady in most things.
Not all the elder-wine that ever was mulled could this night wash out the
remembrance of this difference between Miss Pole and her hostess. Indeed, when
the elder-wine was brought in, it gave rise to a new burst of discussion; for
Jenny, the little maiden who staggered under the tray, had to give evidence of
having seen a ghost with her own eyes, not so many nights ago, in Darkness Lane,
the very lane we were to go through on our way home.
In spite of the uncomfortable feeling which this last consideration gave me,
I could not help being amused at Jenny's position, which was exceedingly like
that of a witness being examined and cross- examined by two counsel who are not
at all scrupulous about asking leading questions. The conclusion I arrived at
was, that Jenny had certainly seen something beyond what a fit of indigestion
would have caused. A lady all in white, and without her head, was what she
deposed and adhered to, supported by a consciousness of the secret sympathy of
her mistress under the withering scorn with which Miss Pole regarded her. And
not only she, but many others, had seen this headless lady, who sat by the
roadside wringing her hands as in deep grief. Mrs Forrester looked at us from
time to time with an air of conscious triumph; but then she had not to pass
through Darkness Lane before she could bury herself beneath her own familiar
bed-clothes.
We preserved a discreet silence as to the headless lady while we were putting
on our things to go home, for there was no knowing how near the ghostly head and
ears might be, or what spiritual connection they might be keeping up with the
unhappy body in Darkness Lane; and, therefore, even Miss Pole felt that it was
as well not to speak lightly on such subjects, for fear of vexing or insulting
that woebegone trunk. At least, so I conjecture; for, instead of the busy
clatter usual in the operation, we tied on our cloaks as sadly as mutes at a
funeral. Miss Matty drew the curtains round the windows of the chair to shut out
disagreeable sights, and the men (either because they were in spirits that their
labours were so nearly ended, or because they were going down hill), set off at
such a round and merry pace, that it was all Miss Pole and I could do to keep up
with them. She had breath for nothing beyond an imploring "Don't leave me!"
uttered as she clutched my arm so tightly that I could not have quitted her,
ghost or no ghost. What a relief it was when the men, weary of their burden and
their quick trot, stopped just where Headingley Causeway branches off from
Darkness Lane! Miss Pole unloosed me and caught at one of the men -
"Could not you - could not you take Miss Matty round by Headingley Causeway?
- the pavement in Darkness Lane jolts so, and she is not very strong."
A smothered voice was heard from the inside of the chair -
"Oh! pray go on! What is the matter? What is the matter? I will give you
sixpence more to go on very fast; pray don't stop here."
"And I'll give you a shilling," said Miss Pole, with tremulous dignity, "if
you'll go by Headingley Causeway."
The two men grunted acquiescence and took up the chair, and went along the
causeway, which certainly answered Miss Pole's kind purpose of saving Miss
Matty's bones; for it was covered with soft, thick mud, and even a fall there
would have been easy till the getting-up came, when there might have been some
difficulty in extrication.
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