No Name Wilkie Collins (e book reader android TXT) 📖

Zurich. If we fail, she will be a fixture at Sea View, to a dead certainty. Don’t ask questions! I have got your instructions ready for you, and I want your closest attention to them. Your marriage with my niece depends on your not forgetting a word of what I am now going to tell you.⁠—One question first. Have you followed my advice? Have you told Mrs. Lecount you are beginning to think yourself mistaken in me?”

“I did worse than that,” replied Noel Vanstone penitently. “I committed an outrage on my own feelings. I disgraced myself by saying that I doubted Miss Bygrave!”

“Go on disgracing yourself, my dear sir! Doubt us both with all your might, and I’ll help you. One question more. Did I speak loud enough this afternoon? Did Mrs. Lecount hear me?”

“Yes. Lecount opened her door; Lecount heard you. What made you give me that message? I see no pictures here. Is this another pious fraud, Mr. Bygrave?”

“Admirably guessed, Mr. Vanstone! You will see the object of my imaginary picture-dealing in the very next words which I am now about to address to you. When you get back to Sea View, this is what you are to say to Mrs. Lecount. Tell her that my relative’s works of art are two worthless pictures⁠—copies from the Old Masters, which I have tried to sell you as originals at an exorbitant price. Say you suspect me of being little better than a plausible impostor, and pity my unfortunate niece for being associated with such a rascal as I am. There is your text to speak from. Say in many words what I have just said in a few. You can do that, can’t you?”

“Of course I can do it,” said Noel Vanstone. “But I can tell you one thing⁠—Lecount won’t believe me.”

“Wait a little, Mr. Vanstone; I have not done with my instructions yet. You understand what I have just told you? Very good. We may get on from today to tomorrow. Go out tomorrow with Mrs. Lecount at your usual time. I will meet you on the Parade, and bow to you. Instead of returning my bow, look the other way. In plain English, cut me! That is easy enough to do, isn’t it?”

“She won’t believe me, Mr. Bygrave⁠—she won’t believe me!”

“Wait a little again, Mr. Vanstone. There are more instructions to come. You have got your directions for today, and you have got your directions for tomorrow. Now for the day after. The day after is the seventh day since we sent the letter to Zurich. On the seventh day decline to go out walking as before, from dread of the annoyance of meeting me again. Grumble about the smallness of the place; complain of your health; wish you had never come to Aldborough, and never made acquaintances with the Bygraves; and when you have well worried Mrs. Lecount with your discontent, ask her on a sudden if she can’t suggest a change for the better. If you put that question to her naturally, do you think she can be depended on to answer it?”

“She won’t want to be questioned at all,” replied Noel Vanstone, irritably. “I have only got to say I am tired of Aldborough; and, if she believes me⁠—which she won’t; I’m quite positive, Mr. Bygrave, she won’t!⁠—she will have her suggestion ready before I can ask for it.”

“Ay! ay!” said the captain eagerly. “There is some place, then, that Mrs. Lecount wants to go to this autumn?”

“She wants to go there (hang her!) every autumn.”

“To go where?”

“To Admiral Bartram’s⁠—you don’t know him, do you?⁠—at St. Crux-in-the-Marsh.”

“Don’t lose your patience, Mr. Vanstone! What you are now telling me is of the most vital importance to the object we have in view. Who is Admiral Bartram?”

“An old friend of my father’s. My father laid him under obligations⁠—my father lent him money when they were both young men. I am like one of the family at St. Crux; my room is always kept ready for me. Not that there’s any family at the admiral’s except his nephew, George Bartram. George is my cousin; I’m as intimate with George as my father was with the admiral; and I’ve been sharper than my father, for I haven’t lent my friend any money. Lecount always makes a show of liking George⁠—I believe to annoy me. She likes the admiral, too; he flatters her vanity. He always invites her to come with me to St. Crux. He lets her have one of the best bedrooms, and treats her as if she was a lady. She is as proud as Lucifer⁠—she likes being treated like a lady⁠—and she pesters me every autumn to go to St. Crux. What’s the matter? What are you taking out your pocketbook for?”

“I want the admiral’s address, Mr. Vanstone, for a purpose which I will explain immediately.”

With those words, Captain Wragge opened his pocketbook and wrote down the address from Noel Vanstone’s dictation, as follows: “Admiral Bartram, St. Crux-in-the-Marsh, near Ossory, Essex.”

“Good!” cried the captain, closing his pocketbook again. “The only difficulty that stood in our way is now cleared out of it. Patience, Mr. Vanstone⁠—patience! Let us take up my instructions again at the point where we dropped them. Give me five minutes’ more attention, and you will see your way to your marriage as plainly as I see it. On the day after tomorrow you declare you are tired of Aldborough, and Mrs. Lecount suggests St. Crux. You don’t say yes or no on the spot; you take the next day to consider it, and you make up your mind the last thing at night to go to St. Crux the first thing in the morning. Are you in the habit of superintending your own packing up, or do you usually shift all the trouble of it on Mrs. Lecount’s shoulders?”

“Lecount has all the trouble, of course; Lecount is paid for it! But I don’t really go, do I?”

“You go as fast as horses can take you to the railway without having held any previous communication with this house, either personally or by letter. You leave Mrs. Lecount behind