Our Mutual Friend, Page 65

  Chapter 15

  WHAT WAS CAUGHT IN THE TRAPS THAT WERE SET

  How Bradley Headstone had been racked and riven in his mind since thequiet evening when by the river-side he had risen, as it were, out ofthe ashes of the Bargeman, none but he could have told. Not even hecould have told, for such misery can only be felt.

  First, he had to bear the combined weight of the knowledge of what hehad done, of that haunting reproach that he might have done it so muchbetter, and of the dread of discovery. This was load enough to crushhim, and he laboured under it day and night. It was as heavy on him inhis scanty sleep, as in his red-eyed waking hours. It bore him down witha dread unchanging monotony, in which there was not a moment's variety.The overweighted beast of burden, or the overweighted slave, can forcertain instants shift the physical load, and find some slight respiteeven in enforcing additional pain upon such a set of muscles or sucha limb. Not even that poor mockery of relief could the wretched manobtain, under the steady pressure of the infernal atmosphere into whichhe had entered.

  Time went by, and no visible suspicion dogged him; time went by, andin such public accounts of the attack as were renewed at intervals,he began to see Mr Lightwood (who acted as lawyer for the injured man)straying further from the fact, going wider of the issue, and evidentlyslackening in his zeal. By degrees, a glimmering of the cause of thisbegan to break on Bradley's sight. Then came the chance meeting with MrMilvey at the railway station (where he often lingered in his leisurehours, as a place where any fresh news of his deed would be circulated,or any placard referring to it would be posted), and then he saw in thelight what he had brought about.

  For, then he saw that through his desperate attempt to separate thosetwo for ever, he had been made the means of uniting them. That he haddipped his hands in blood, to mark himself a miserable fool and tool.That Eugene Wrayburn, for his wife's sake, set him aside and left him tocrawl along his blasted course. He thought of Fate, or Providence, orbe the directing Power what it might, as having put a fraud uponhim--overreached him--and in his impotent mad rage bit, and tore, andhad his fit.

  New assurance of the truth came upon him in the next few following days,when it was put forth how the wounded man had been married on his bed,and to whom, and how, though always in a dangerous condition, he was ashade better. Bradley would far rather have been seized for his murder,than he would have read that passage, knowing himself spared, andknowing why.

  But, not to be still further defrauded and overreached--which he wouldbe, if implicated by Riderhood, and punished by the law for his abjectfailure, as though it had been a success--he kept close in his schoolduring the day, ventured out warily at night, and went no more to therailway station. He examined the advertisements in the newspapers forany sign that Riderhood acted on his hinted threat of so summoning himto renew their acquaintance, but found none. Having paid him handsomelyfor the support and accommodation he had had at the Lock House, andknowing him to be a very ignorant man who could not write, he began todoubt whether he was to be feared at all, or whether they need ever meetagain.

  All this time, his mind was never off the rack, and his raging sense ofhaving been made to fling himself across the chasm which divided thosetwo, and bridge it over for their coming together, never cooled down.This horrible condition brought on other fits. He could not have saidhow many, or when; but he saw in the faces of his pupils that they hadseen him in that state, and that they were possessed by a dread of hisrelapsing.

  One winter day when a slight fall of snow was feathering the sills andframes of the schoolroom windows, he stood at his black board, crayon inhand, about to commence with a class; when, reading in the countenancesof those boys that there was something wrong, and that they seemed inalarm for him, he turned his eyes to the door towards which they faced.He then saw a slouching man of forbidding appearance standing in themidst of the school, with a bundle under his arm; and saw that it wasRiderhood.

  He sat down on a stool which one of his boys put for him, and he had apassing knowledge that he was in danger of falling, and that his facewas becoming distorted. But, the fit went off for that time, and hewiped his mouth, and stood up again.

  'Beg your pardon, governor! By your leave!' said Riderhood, knucklinghis forehead, with a chuckle and a leer. 'What place may this be?'

  'This is a school.'

  'Where young folks learns wot's right?' said Riderhood, gravely nodding.'Beg your pardon, governor! By your leave! But who teaches this school?'

  'I do.'

  'You're the master, are you, learned governor?'

  'Yes. I am the master.'

  'And a lovely thing it must be,' said Riderhood, 'fur to learn youngfolks wot's right, and fur to know wot THEY know wot you do it. Beg yourpardon, learned governor! By your leave!--That there black board; wot'sit for?'

  'It is for drawing on, or writing on.'

  'Is it though!' said Riderhood. 'Who'd have thought it, from thelooks on it! WOULD you be so kind as write your name upon it, learnedgovernor?' (In a wheedling tone.)

  Bradley hesitated for a moment; but placed his usual signature,enlarged, upon the board.

  'I ain't a learned character myself,' said Riderhood, surveying theclass, 'but I do admire learning in others. I should dearly like to hearthese here young folks read that there name off, from the writing.'

  The arms of the class went up. At the miserable master's nod, the shrillchorus arose: 'Bradley Headstone!'

  'No?' cried Riderhood. 'You don't mean it? Headstone! Why, that's in achurchyard. Hooroar for another turn!'

  Another tossing of arms, another nod, and another shrill chorus:

  'Bradley Headstone!'

  'I've got it now!' said Riderhood, after attentively listening, andinternally repeating: 'Bradley. I see. Chris'en name, Bradley sim'lar toRoger which is my own. Eh? Fam'ly name, Headstone, sim'lar to Riderhoodwhich is my own. Eh?'

  Shrill chorus. 'Yes!'

  'Might you be acquainted, learned governor,' said Riderhood, 'with aperson of about your own heighth and breadth, and wot 'ud pull down ina scale about your own weight, answering to a name sounding summat likeTotherest?'

  With a desperation in him that made him perfectly quiet, though his jawwas heavily squared; with his eyes upon Riderhood; and with traces ofquickened breathing in his nostrils; the schoolmaster replied, in asuppressed voice, after a pause: 'I think I know the man you mean.'

  'I thought you knowed the man I mean, learned governor. I want the man.'

  With a half glance around him at his pupils, Bradley returned:

  'Do you suppose he is here?'

  'Begging your pardon, learned governor, and by your leave,' saidRiderhood, with a laugh, 'how could I suppose he's here, when there'snobody here but you, and me, and these young lambs wot you're a learningon? But he is most excellent company, that man, and I want him to comeand see me at my Lock, up the river.'

  'I'll tell him so.'

  'D'ye think he'll come?' asked Riderhood.

  'I am sure he will.'

  'Having got your word for him,' said Riderhood, 'I shall count upon him.P'raps you'd so fur obleege me, learned governor, as tell him that if hedon't come precious soon, I'll look him up.'

  'He shall know it.'

  'Thankee. As I says a while ago,' pursued Riderhood, changing his hoarsetone and leering round upon the class again, 'though not a learnedcharacter my own self, I do admire learning in others, to be sure! Beinghere and having met with your kind attention, Master, might I, afore Igo, ask a question of these here young lambs of yourn?'

  'If it is in the way of school,' said Bradley, always sustaining hisdark look at the other, and speaking in his suppressed voice, 'you may.'

  'Oh! It's in the way of school!' cried Riderhood. 'I'll pound it,Master, to be in the way of school. Wot's the diwisions of water, mylambs? Wot sorts of water is there on the land?'

  Shrill chorus: 'Seas, rivers, lakes, and ponds.'

  'Seas, rivers, lakes, and ponds,' said Riderhoo
d. 'They've got all thelot, Master! Blowed if I shouldn't have left out lakes, never havingclapped eyes upon one, to my knowledge. Seas, rivers, lakes, and ponds.Wot is it, lambs, as they ketches in seas, rivers, lakes, and ponds?'

  Shrill chorus (with some contempt for the ease of the question):

  'Fish!'

  'Good a-gin!' said Riderhood. 'But wot else is it, my lambs, as theysometimes ketches in rivers?'

  Chorus at a loss. One shrill voice: 'Weed!'

  'Good agin!' cried Riderhood. 'But it ain't weed neither. You'll neverguess, my dears. Wot is it, besides fish, as they sometimes ketches inrivers? Well! I'll tell you. It's suits o' clothes.'

  Bradley's face changed.

  'Leastways, lambs,' said Riderhood, observing him out of the cornersof his eyes, 'that's wot I my own self sometimes ketches in rivers. Forstrike me blind, my lambs, if I didn't ketch in a river the wery bundleunder my arm!'

  The class looked at the master, as if appealing from the irregularentrapment of this mode of examination. The master looked at theexaminer, as if he would have torn him to pieces.

  'I ask your pardon, learned governor,' said Riderhood, smearing hissleeve across his mouth as he laughed with a relish, 'tain't fair to thelambs, I know. It wos a bit of fun of mine. But upon my soul I drawedthis here bundle out of a river! It's a Bargeman's suit of clothes. Yousee, it had been sunk there by the man as wore it, and I got it up.'

  'How do you know it was sunk by the man who wore it?' asked Bradley.

  'Cause I see him do it,' said Riderhood.

  They looked at each other. Bradley, slowly withdrawing his eyes, turnedhis face to the black board and slowly wiped his name out.

  'A heap of thanks, Master,' said Riderhood, 'for bestowing so much ofyour time, and of the lambses' time, upon a man as hasn't got no otherrecommendation to you than being a honest man. Wishing to see at my Lockup the river, the person as we've spoke of, and as you've answered for,I takes my leave of the lambs and of their learned governor both.'

  With those words, he slouched out of the school, leaving the masterto get through his weary work as he might, and leaving the whisperingpupils to observe the master's face until he fell into the fit which hadbeen long impending.

  The next day but one was Saturday, and a holiday. Bradley rose early,and set out on foot for Plashwater Weir Mill Lock. He rose so early thatit was not yet light when he began his journey. Before extinguishing thecandle by which he had dressed himself, he made a little parcel of hisdecent silver watch and its decent guard, and wrote inside the paper:'Kindly take care of these for me.' He then addressed the parcel to MissPeecher, and left it on the most protected corner of the little seat inher little porch.

  It was a cold hard easterly morning when he latched the garden gateand turned away. The light snowfall which had feathered his schoolroomwindows on the Thursday, still lingered in the air, and was fallingwhite, while the wind blew black. The tardy day did not appear until hehad been on foot two hours, and had traversed a greater part of Londonfrom east to west. Such breakfast as he had, he took at the comfortlesspublic-house where he had parted from Riderhood on the occasion oftheir night-walk. He took it, standing at the littered bar, and lookedloweringly at a man who stood where Riderhood had stood that earlymorning.

  He outwalked the short day, and was on the towing-path by the river,somewhat footsore, when the night closed in. Still two or three milesshort of the Lock, he slackened his pace then, but went steadily on. Theground was now covered with snow, though thinly, and there were floatinglumps of ice in the more exposed parts of the river, and broken sheetsof ice under the shelter of the banks. He took heed of nothing but theice, the snow, and the distance, until he saw a light ahead, which heknew gleamed from the Lock House window. It arrested his steps, and helooked all around. The ice, and the snow, and he, and the one light, hadabsolute possession of the dreary scene. In the distance before him, laythe place where he had struck the worse than useless blows that mockedhim with Lizzie's presence there as Eugene's wife. In the distancebehind him, lay the place where the children with pointing arms hadseemed to devote him to the demons in crying out his name. Within there,where the light was, was the man who as to both distances could give himup to ruin. To these limits had his world shrunk.

  He mended his pace, keeping his eyes upon the light with a strangeintensity, as if he were taking aim at it. When he approached it sonearly as that it parted into rays, they seemed to fasten themselvesto him and draw him on. When he struck the door with his hand, his footfollowed so quickly on his hand, that he was in the room before he wasbidden to enter.

  The light was the joint product of a fire and a candle. Between the two,with his feet on the iron fender, sat Riderhood, pipe in mouth.

  He looked up with a surly nod when his visitor came in. His visitorlooked down with a surly nod. His outer clothing removed, the visitorthen took a seat on the opposite side of the fire.

  'Not a smoker, I think?' said Riderhood, pushing a bottle to him acrossthe table.

  'No.'

  They both lapsed into silence, with their eyes upon the fire.

  'You don't need to be told I am here,' said Bradley at length. 'Who isto begin?'

  'I'll begin,' said Riderhood, 'when I've smoked this here pipe out.'

  He finished it with great deliberation, knocked out the ashes on thehob, and put it by.

  'I'll begin,' he then repeated, 'Bradley Headstone, Master, if you wishit.'

  'Wish it? I wish to know what you want with me.'

  'And so you shall.' Riderhood had looked hard at his hands and hispockets, apparently as a precautionary measure lest he should have anyweapon about him. But, he now leaned forward, turning the collar ofhis waistcoat with an inquisitive finger, and asked, 'Why, where's yourwatch?'

  'I have left it behind.'

  'I want it. But it can be fetched. I've took a fancy to it.'

  Bradley answered with a contemptuous laugh.

  'I want it,' repeated Riderhood, in a louder voice, 'and I mean to haveit.'

  'That is what you want of me, is it?'

  'No,' said Riderhood, still louder; 'it's on'y part of what I want ofyou. I want money of you.'

  'Anything else?'

  'Everythink else!' roared Riderhood, in a very loud and furious way.'Answer me like that, and I won't talk to you at all.'

  Bradley looked at him.

  'Don't so much as look at me like that, or I won't talk to you at all,'vociferated Riderhood. 'But, instead of talking, I'll bring my handdown upon you with all its weight,' heavily smiting the table with greatforce, 'and smash you!'

  'Go on,' said Bradley, after moistening his lips.

  'O! I'm a going on. Don't you fear but I'll go on full-fast enough foryou, and fur enough for you, without your telling. Look here, BradleyHeadstone, Master. You might have split the T'other governor to chipsand wedges, without my caring, except that I might have come upon youfor a glass or so now and then. Else why have to do with you at all? Butwhen you copied my clothes, and when you copied my neckhankercher, andwhen you shook blood upon me after you had done the trick, you did wotI'll be paid for and paid heavy for. If it come to be throw'd upon you,you was to be ready to throw it upon me, was you? Where else butin Plashwater Weir Mill Lock was there a man dressed according asdescribed? Where else but in Plashwater Weir Mill Lock was there aman as had had words with him coming through in his boat? Look at theLock-keeper in Plashwater Weir Mill Lock, in them same answering clothesand with that same answering red neckhankercher, and see whether hisclothes happens to be bloody or not. Yes, they do happen to be bloody.Ah, you sly devil!'

  Bradley, very white, sat looking at him in silence.

  'But two could play at your game,' said Riderhood, snapping his fingersat him half a dozen times, 'and I played it long ago; long afore youtried your clumsy hand at it; in days when you hadn't begun croakingyour lecters or what not in your school. I know to a figure how youdone it. Where you stole away, I could steal away arter you, an
d do itknowinger than you. I know how you come away from London in your ownclothes, and where you changed your clothes, and hid your clothes. I seeyou with my own eyes take your own clothes from their hiding-placeamong them felled trees, and take a dip in the river to account foryour dressing yourself, to any one as might come by. I see you rise upBradley Headstone, Master, where you sat down Bargeman. I see you pitchyour Bargeman's bundle into the river. I hooked your Bargeman's bundleout of the river. I've got your Bargeman's clothes, tore this way andthat way with the scuffle, stained green with the grass, and spatteredall over with what bust from the blows. I've got them, and I've got you.I don't care a curse for the T'other governor, alive or dead, but I carea many curses for my own self. And as you laid your plots agin me andwas a sly devil agin me, I'll be paid for it--I'll be paid for it--I'llbe paid for it--till I've drained you dry!'

  Bradley looked at the fire, with a working face, and was silent for awhile. At last he said, with what seemed an inconsistent composure ofvoice and feature:

  'You can't get blood out of a stone, Riderhood.'

  'I can get money out of a schoolmaster though.'

  'You can't get out of me what is not in me. You can't wrest from me whatI have not got. Mine is but a poor calling. You have had more than twoguineas from me, already. Do you know how long it has taken me (allowingfor a long and arduous training) to earn such a sum?'

  'I don't know, nor I don't care. Yours is a 'spectable calling. Tosave your 'spectability, it's worth your while to pawn every article ofclothes you've got, sell every stick in your house, and beg and borrowevery penny you can get trusted with. When you've done that and handedover, I'll leave you. Not afore.'

  'How do you mean, you'll leave me?'

  'I mean as I'll keep you company, wherever you go, when you go away fromhere. Let the Lock take care of itself. I'll take care of you, once I'vegot you.'

  Bradley again looked at the fire. Eyeing him aside, Riderhood took uphis pipe, refilled it, lighted it, and sat smoking. Bradley leaned hiselbows on his knees, and his head upon his hands, and looked at the firewith a most intent abstraction.

  'Riderhood,' he said, raising himself in his chair, after a longsilence, and drawing out his purse and putting it on the table. 'SayI part with this, which is all the money I have; say I let you havemy watch; say that every quarter, when I draw my salary, I pay you acertain portion of it.'

  'Say nothink of the sort,' retorted Riderhood, shaking his head as hesmoked. 'You've got away once, and I won't run the chance agin. I've hadtrouble enough to find you, and shouldn't have found you, if I hadn'tseen you slipping along the street overnight, and watched you till youwas safe housed. I'll have one settlement with you for good and all.'

  'Riderhood, I am a man who has lived a retired life. I have no resourcesbeyond myself. I have absolutely no friends.'

  'That's a lie,' said Riderhood. 'You've got one friend as I knows of;one as is good for a Savings-Bank book, or I'm a blue monkey!'

  Bradley's face darkened, and his hand slowly closed on the purse anddrew it back, as he sat listening for what the other should go on tosay.

  'I went into the wrong shop, fust, last Thursday,' said Riderhood.'Found myself among the young ladies, by George! Over the young ladies,I see a Missis. That Missis is sweet enough upon you, Master, to sellherself up, slap, to get you out of trouble. Make her do it then.'

  Bradley stared at him so very suddenly that Riderhood, not quite knowinghow to take it, affected to be occupied with the encircling smoke fromhis pipe; fanning it away with his hand, and blowing it off.

  'You spoke to the mistress, did you?' inquired Bradley, with thatformer composure of voice and feature that seemed inconsistent, and withaverted eyes.

  'Poof! Yes,' said Riderhood, withdrawing his attention from the smoke.'I spoke to her. I didn't say much to her. She was put in a fluster bymy dropping in among the young ladies (I never did set up for a lady'sman), and she took me into her parlour to hope as there was nothinkwrong. I tells her, "O no, nothink wrong. The master's my wery goodfriend." But I see how the land laid, and that she was comfortable off.'

  Bradley put the purse in his pocket, grasped his left wrist with hisright hand, and sat rigidly contemplating the fire.

  'She couldn't live more handy to you than she does,' said Riderhood,'and when I goes home with you (as of course I am a going), I recommendyou to clean her out without loss of time. You can marry her, arter youand me have come to a settlement. She's nice-looking, and I knowyou can't be keeping company with no one else, having been so latelydisapinted in another quarter.'

  Not one other word did Bradley utter all that night. Not once did hechange his attitude, or loosen his hold upon his wrist. Rigid before thefire, as if it were a charmed flame that was turning him old, he sat,with the dark lines deepening in his face, its stare becoming more andmore haggard, its surface turning whiter and whiter as if it were beingoverspread with ashes, and the very texture and colour of his hairdegenerating.

  Not until the late daylight made the window transparent, did thisdecaying statue move. Then it slowly arose, and sat in the windowlooking out.

  Riderhood had kept his chair all night. In the earlier part of the nighthe had muttered twice or thrice that it was bitter cold; or that thefire burnt fast, when he got up to mend it; but, as he could elicit fromhis companion neither sound nor movement, he had afterwards held hispeace. He was making some disorderly preparations for coffee, whenBradley came from the window and put on his outer coat and hat.

  'Hadn't us better have a bit o' breakfast afore we start?' saidRiderhood. 'It ain't good to freeze a empty stomach, Master.'

  Without a sign to show that he heard, Bradley walked out of the LockHouse. Catching up from the table a piece of bread, and taking hisBargeman's bundle under his arm, Riderhood immediately followed him.Bradley turned towards London. Riderhood caught him up, and walked athis side.

  The two men trudged on, side by side, in silence, full three miles.Suddenly, Bradley turned to retrace his course. Instantly, Riderhoodturned likewise, and they went back side by side.

  Bradley re-entered the Lock House. So did Riderhood. Bradley sat down inthe window. Riderhood warmed himself at the fire. After an hour or more,Bradley abruptly got up again, and again went out, but this time turnedthe other way. Riderhood was close after him, caught him up in a fewpaces, and walked at his side.

  This time, as before, when he found his attendant not to be shaken off,Bradley suddenly turned back. This time, as before, Riderhood turnedback along with him. But, not this time, as before, did they go into theLock House, for Bradley came to a stand on the snow-covered turf by theLock, looking up the river and down the river. Navigation was impeded bythe frost, and the scene was a mere white and yellow desert.

  'Come, come, Master,' urged Riderhood, at his side. 'This is a dry game.And where's the good of it? You can't get rid of me, except by coming toa settlement. I am a going along with you wherever you go.'

  Without a word of reply, Bradley passed quickly from him over the woodenbridge on the lock gates. 'Why, there's even less sense in this movethan t'other,' said Riderhood, following. 'The Weir's there, and you'llhave to come back, you know.'

  Without taking the least notice, Bradley leaned his body against a post,in a resting attitude, and there rested with his eyes cast down. 'Beingbrought here,' said Riderhood, gruffly, 'I'll turn it to some use bychanging my gates.' With a rattle and a rush of water, he then swung-tothe lock gates that were standing open, before opening the others. So,both sets of gates were, for the moment, closed.

  'You'd better by far be reasonable, Bradley Headstone, Master,' saidRiderhood, passing him, 'or I'll drain you all the dryer for it, when wedo settle.--Ah! Would you!'

  Bradley had caught him round the body. He seemed to be girdled with aniron ring. They were on the brink of the Lock, about midway between thetwo sets of gates.

  'Let go!' said Riderhood, 'or I'll get my knife out and slash youwherever I can cut you. Let go!'
>
  Bradley was drawing to the Lock-edge. Riderhood was drawing away fromit. It was a strong grapple, and a fierce struggle, arm and leg. Bradleygot him round, with his back to the Lock, and still worked him backward.

  'Let go!' said Riderhood. 'Stop! What are you trying at? You can't drownMe. Ain't I told you that the man as has come through drowning can neverbe drowned? I can't be drowned.'

  'I can be!' returned Bradley, in a desperate, clenched voice. 'I amresolved to be. I'll hold you living, and I'll hold you dead. Comedown!'

  Riderhood went over into the smooth pit, backward, and Bradley Headstoneupon him. When the two were found, lying under the ooze and scum behindone of the rotting gates, Riderhood's hold had relaxed, probably infalling, and his eyes were staring upward. But, he was girdled stillwith Bradley's iron ring, and the rivets of the iron ring held tight.