A Search For A Secret: A Novel. Vol. 1, Page 2

  CHAPTER II.

  THE HARMERS OF HARMER PLACE.

  The Harmers of Harmer Place, although of ancient descent, could yethardly be ranked among the very old Kentish families, for they couldtrace back their history very little beyond the commencement of thereign of Queen Elizabeth, of pious and Protestant memory. About thatperiod it is ascertained that they were small landed proprietors,probably half gentry, half farmers. All documentary and traditionalhistory goes to prove that the Harmers of those days were a stiff-neckedrace, and that their consciences were by no means of the same plasticnature as those of the great majority of their neighbours. They couldnot, for the life of them, see why--because the Royal family had all ofa sudden come to the conclusion that the old Roman religion, in whichtheir fore-fathers had for so many centuries worshipped, was after allwrong, that therefore the whole nation was bound to make the samediscovery at the same moment.

  So the Harmers clung to the old faith, and were looked upon withgrievous disfavour in consequence by the authorities for the time being.Many were the domiciliary visits paid them, and grievous were the finesinflicted upon them for nonconformity. Still, whether from informationprivately sent to them previous to these researches, or whether from thesuperior secrecy and snugness of their "Priest's chamber," certain itis, that although frequently denounced and searched, no priest oremissary of papacy was ever found concealed there; and so, althoughconstantly harassed and vexed, they were suffered to remain inpossession of their estate.

  As generation of Harmers succeeded generation, they continued the samestiff-necked race, clinging to their old tenets, and hardening theirhearts to all inducements to desert them. Over and over again they wentthrough "troublous times," especially when those God-fearing andenlightened Puritans domineered it over England. In after reignsdifficulties arose, but the days of persecution were over then, and theyhad nothing to undergo comparable to their former trials.

  It would have been naturally supposed that as at the commencement of thereign of Elizabeth the Harmers were by no means a wealthy race, theywould speedily have been shorn of all the little property they thenpossessed. But it was not so. The more they were persecuted so much themore they flourished, and from mere farmers they speedily rose to therank of county families.

  One reason, doubtless, for their immunity from more than comparativelypetty persecutions, such as fines and imprisonments, was, that theHarmers never took any part in political affairs; neither in plots, norrisings, nor civil wars, were they ever known actively to interfere.

  As the Harmers were in other respects an obstinate, quarrelsome race,stubborn in will, strong in their likes and dislikes, it was singularthat they should never have actively bestirred themselves in favour ofthe cause which they all had so strongly at heart. The popular belief onthe matter was, that a settled and traditional line of policy had beenrecommended, and enforced upon the family, by their priests; namely, tokeep quite neutral in politics, in order that there might be at leastone house in the country--and that, from its proximity to the sea-coast,peculiarly suitable to the purpose,--where, in cases of necessity, asecure hiding-place could be relied on. Mother Church is very good toher obedient children; and if the Harmers gave up their personalfeelings for her benefit, and sheltered her ministers in time of peril,she no doubt took care that in the long run they should not be losers.And so, while their Roman Catholic neighbours threw themselves intoplots and parties, and lost house and land, and not uncommonly life, theHarmers rode quietly through the gale, thriving more and more under thesmall persecutions they suffered for the faith's sake. And thus ithappened that going into troubles as small proprietors in the reign ofElizabeth, they came out of them in that of George, owners of a largeestate and a rambling old mansion in every style of architecture.

  After that date, persecution having ceased, and "Priests' chambers"being no longer useful, the Harmers ceased to enlarge their boundaries,and lived retired lives on their property, passing a considerableportion of their time on the Continent.

  Robert Harmer had, contrary to the usual custom of his ancestors, sixchildren--four sons and two daughters. Edward was, of course, intendedto inherit the family property, and was brought up in accordance withthe strictest traditions of his race; Robert was also similarlyeducated, in order to be fitted to take his brother's place shouldEdward not survive his father, or die leaving no heirs; Gregory wasintended for the priesthood; and Herbert, the youngest of all, was leftto take his chance in any position which the influence of his family orChurch might obtain for him.

  Herbert Harmer, however, was not so ready as the rest of his family tosubmit his judgment without question to that of others; and having, whenabout sixteen, had what he conceived an extremely heavy and unfairpenance imposed upon him for some trifling offence, he quitted his home,leaving a letter behind him stating his intention of never returning toit. Herbert Harmer was not of the stuff of which a docile son of HolyChurch is made; of a warm and affectionate disposition, and a naturallybuoyant, joyous frame of mind, the stern and repressive discipline towhich he was subjected, and the monotonous existence he led in hisfather's house, seemed to him the height of misery.

  The lad, when he turned his back on home, knew little of the world. Hehad lived the life almost of a recluse, never stirring beyond thegrounds of the mansion except to attend mass at the Roman Catholicchapel at Canterbury, and this only upon grand occasions, as the familyconfessor, who acted also as his tutor, resided in the village, andordinarily performed the service at the chapel attached to the place.

  Companions he had none. Gregory, the brother next to him in age, wasaway in Italy studying for the priesthood; Cecilia and Angela he hadseen but seldom, as they also were abroad, being educated in a convent;Edward and Robert were young men nearly ten years older than himself,and were when at home his father's companions rather than his, and bothwere of grave taciturn disposition, ascetic and bigoted even beyond theusual Harmer type.

  Thrown therefore almost entirely upon his own resources, Herbert hadsought what companionship he best could. Books, first and best; but ofthese his stock was limited. Religious and controversial treatises,church histories, and polemical writings formed the principal part ofthe library, together with a few volumes of travel and biography whichhad somehow found their way there. On a library so limited as this theboy could not employ his whole time, but had to seek amusement andexercise out of doors, and the only companion he had there, was perhapsof all others the very one with whom he would have been most strictlyforbidden to associate, had their intimacy been guessed at.

  Robert Althorpe was the son of a tenant on the estate, and was a man ofthirty or thereabouts. Originally a wild, reckless lad, he had, as manyan English boy has done before and since, ran away to sea, and, afternearly fifteen years absence, had lately returned with only one arm,having lost the other in a naval engagement. On his return he had beenreceived with open arms by his father, as at that time (that is, in theyear 1795) all England was wild with our naval glory. And now RobertAlthorpe passed his time, sitting by the fire smoking, or wanderingabout to relate his tales of adventure among the farmhouses of thecountry, at each of which he was received as a welcome guest.

  The sailor took a particular fancy to young Herbert Harmer, whoseignorance of the world and eager desire to hear something of it, andwhose breathless attention to his yarns, amused and gratified him. Onmany a summer afternoon, then, when Herbert had finished his prescribedcourse of study, he would slip quietly away to meet Robert Althorpe, andwould sit for hours under the trees listening to tales of the world andlife of which he knew so little. Robert had in his period of serviceseen much; for those were stirring times. He had taken part in thevictories of Howe and Jervis, and in the capture of the numerous WestIndian isles. He had fought, too, under the invincible Nelson at theNile, in which battle he had lost his arm. He had been stationed for twoyears out on the Indian coast, and Herbert above all loved to hear ofthat wonderful country, then the recent scene of the victories o
f Cliveand Hastings.

  When therefore he left his home, the one fixed idea in Herbert Harmer'smind was, that first of all he would go to sea, and that then he wouldsome day visit India; both which resolutions he carried into effect.

  It was some ten years after, when the memory of the young brother ofwhom they had seen so little had nearly faded from the minds of hisfamily, that a letter arrived from him, addressed to his father, butwhich was opened by his brother Edward as the head of the house, the oldman having been three years before laid in the family vault. Gregory toowas dead, having died years previously of a fever contracted among themarshes near Rome. The contents of the letter, instead of being hailedwith the delight with which news from a long lost prodigal is usuallygreeted, were received with unmingled indignation and horror.

  A solemn family conclave was held in the old library, Edward Harmer atthe head of the table, Father Paul at the foot, and the contents of theletter were taken into formal consideration. A joint answer was thendrawn up, stating the horror and indignation with which hiscommunication had been received--that the anathema had been passedagainst him, that to them he was dead for ever, and that they regrettedthat he had ever been born at all.

  All this was expressed at great length, and with that exceedinglycomplicated bitterness of cursing, which is a characteristic of theRoman Church when roused. At the end, each of the family signed his orher name, and the priest added his, with a cross affixed there to, as atoken for ever against him.

  The contents of the letter which had caused all this commotion ofspirit, were briefly as follows.

  Herbert had gone to sea, and had for two years voyaged to differentparts of the world. At the end of that time he had arrived in India, andthere leaving his ship, had determined to cast his lot. After variousemployments, he had finally obtained a situation as a clerk to a planterup the country, whose daughter he had three years afterwards married; hewas now doing well, and hoped that his father would forgive his havingran away from home.

  So far the letter was satisfactory enough, it was the final paragraphwhich had caused the explosion of family wrath against him--namely, thathis wife was a Protestant, and that having carefully examined the Biblewith her, he had come to the conclusion that the Reformed Church moreclosely carried out the precepts and teachings of that book than hisown. That he was afraid this would prove a serious annoyance to hisfather; but that, as he was so far away, and should never be likely toreturn to obtrude the new religion he had adopted upon them, he hopedthat it would be no bar to his continuing an amicable correspondencewith them.

  This hope was, as has been seen, not destined to be realized. The answerwas sealed and duly sent off, and henceforth Herbert Harmer, as far ashis family was concerned, ceased to have any existence. It was nearlytwenty years before they again heard of him, and then the news came thathe had returned to England, a widower, bringing his only son, a youngman of about twenty-one years old, with him; that he had purchased ahouse in the neighbourhood of London, and that he did not intend toreturn to India.

  Very shortly after his return, a letter from him was received by hiselder brother, but immediately it was opened, and the first line showedfrom whom it came, it was closed unread, resealed, and returned to thewriter.

  During the thirty years which Herbert Harmer had been absent, the oldplace had certainly not improved. Edward and Robert had both beenmarried, but were, like their brother, widowers. Edward never hadchildren. Robert had several born to him, but all had died quite young.The sisters had remained single.

  It was a gloomy house in those days. They all lived together there.Father Paul was long since dead, and Father Gabriel literallyreigned in his stead--a man even more gloomy and bigoted than hispredecessors--chosen probably on that account, as being in keeping withthe character of the people to whom he ministered. An unhappy family;unhappy in their lives and dispositions, unhappy in the view they hadtaken of religion and its duties, very unhappy--and this was the onlycount to which they themselves would have pleaded guilty--very unhappybecause the old line of Harmer would die with them, and that there wasnone of the name to inherit after them; for that Herbert the apostateshould succeed them, that a Protestant Harmer should dwell where hisCatholic ancestors had so long lived, was never even for a momentdiscussed as a possibility: the very idea would have been a desecration,at which their dead fathers would have moved in their graves. Better, athousand times better, that the old place should go to strangers. And soEdward's will was made; everything was done that could be done, and theydwelt in gloomy resignation, waiting for the end.

  That end was to come to some of them sooner than they expected.

  Edward and Robert Harmer had one interest, one worldly amusement, inwhich they indulged. As young men they had been for some time togetherat Genoa, and in that town of mariners they had become passionatelyattached to the sea. This taste they had never lost, and they stilldelighted occasionally to go out for a day's sailing, in a smallpleasure yacht, which they kept at the little fishing-village of HerneBay. She was an open boat, of about eight tons, and was considered agood sea-boat for her size. In this, with two men to sail her, under thecommand of an old one-armed sailor, whom they employed because he hadonce lived on the estate, they would go out for hours, once a week orso; not on fine sunny days--in them they had no pleasure--but when thewind blew fresh, and the waves broke a tawny yellow on the sand, and thelong banks off the coast were white with foaming breakers. It was astrange sight in such weather, to see the two men, now from fifty tosixty years old, and very similar in face and figure, taking theirplaces in the stern of their little craft, while the boatmen, in theirrough-weather coats and fearnought hats, hoisted the sails and preparedfor sea.

  Very quiet they would sit, while the spray dashed over them, and theboat tore across the surface of the water, with a smile half glad, halfdefiant, on their dark features, till the one-armed captain would say,touching his hat, "It is getting wilder, your honours; I think we hadbetter put about." Then they would give an assenting gesture, and theboat's head would be turned to shore, where they would arrive, wetthrough and storm-beaten, but with a deep joy in their hearts, such asthey experienced at no other time.

  But once they went out, and came back alive no more. It happened thus.It was the 3rd of March, and the morning was overcast and dull; therewas wind, though not strong, coming in short sudden puffs, and thendying away again. The brothers started early, and drove over, throughthe village of Herne, to the little fishing-hamlet in the bay, andstopped at the cottage of the captain, as he termed himself, of theirlittle yacht. The old sailor came out to the door.

  "You are not thinking of going out to-day, your honours, are you?"

  "Why not?" Edward Harmer asked; "don't you think there will be windenough?"

  "Aye, aye, your honour, wind enough, and more than enough before long;there is a gale brewing up there;" and the old man shaded his eyes withhis remaining hand, and looked earnestly at the clouds.

  "Pooh, pooh, man!" Robert Harmer said; "there is no wind to speak ofyet, although I think with you that it may come on to blow as the sungoes down. What then? It is nearly easterly, so if we sail straight outwe can always turn and run back again before the sea gets up high enoughto prevent us. You know we are always ready to return when you give theword."

  The old sailor made no further remonstrance, but summoning the two youngmen who generally accompanied them, he busied himself in carrying downthe oars, and making preparations to launch the little boat which was tocarry them to where the yacht was moored about a hundred yards out, withmany quiet disapproving shakes of his head as he did so. They were soonin, and launched through the waves, which were breaking with a long,heavy, menacing roar. It was not rough yet, but even in the quarter ofan hour which had elapsed between their arrival at the village, andreaching the side of the yacht, the aspect of the weather had changedmuch; the gusts of wind came more frequently, and with far greaterforce, whitening the surface of the water, and tearing off the tops
ofthe waves in sheets of spray. The dull heavy clouds overhead werebeginning to break up suddenly, as if stirred by some mighty forcewithin themselves, great openings and rents seemed torn asunder in thedark curtain, and then as suddenly closed up again; but through thesemomentary openings, the scud could be seen flying rapidly past in thehigher regions of the air.

  On reaching the side of the yacht, which was rolling heavily on therising waves, the one-armed sailor again glanced at the brothers to seeif they noticed these ominous signs, and if they made any change intheir determination; but they gave no signs of doing so. Their faceswere both set in that expression of stern pleasure which they alwayswore on occasions like this, and with another disapproving shake of hishead, even more decided than those in which he had before indulged, heturned to assist the men in fastening the boat they had come in to themoorings to await their return, in loosing the sails, and taking acouple of reefs in them, and preparing for a start.

  In another five minutes the little craft was far out at sea, ploughingher way through the ever increasing waves, dashing them aside from herbows in sheets of spray, and leaving a broad white track behind her.

  The wind was getting up every minute, and blew with a hoarse roar acrossthe water.

  Before they had been gone fifteen minutes, the old sailor felt that itwas indeed madness to go farther. He saw that the force of the wind wasalready more than the boat could bear, and was momentarily increasing,and that the sea was fast getting up under its power.

  But as his counsel had been already once disregarded, he determined tolet the first order for return come from the brothers, and he glancedfor a moment from the sails and the sea to the two men sitting besidehim. There was no thought of turning back there. Their lips were hardset, yet half smiling; their eyes wide open, as if to take in thetumultuous joy of the scene; their hands lay clenched on their knees.They had evidently no thought of danger, no thought of anything butdeep, wild pleasure.

  The old sailor bit his lips. He looked again over the sea, he looked atthe sails, and at the lads crouched down in the bow with consternationstrongly expressed on their faces; he glanced at the dark green water,rushing past the side, and sometimes as she lay over combing in over thegunwale; he felt the boat quiver under the shock as each succeeding wavestruck her, and he knew she could bear no more. He therefore againturned round to the impassive figures beside him, and made his usualspeech.

  "Your honours, it is time to go about."

  But this time so absorbed were they in their sensations, that they didnot hear him, and he had to touch them to attract their notice, and toshout in their ears, "Your honours, we must go about."

  They started at the touch, and rose like men waked suddenly from adream. They cast a glance round, and seemed to take in for the firsttime the real state of things, the raging wind, the flying scud, thewaves which rose round the boat, and struck her with a force thatthreatened to break her into fragments. And then Edward said, "Yes! byall means, if indeed it is not already too late. God forgive us forbringing you out into it; _peccavi, culpa mea_." And then the brothers,influenced not by fear for themselves, but for the lives of those whomthey had brought into danger, commenced rapidly uttering, in a lowvoice, the prayers of their Church for those in peril.

  The prayer was never to be finished. The men sprang with alacrity to theropes when the order was given, "Prepare to go about;" but whether theirfingers were numb, or what it was which went wrong, no one will everknow. The boat obeyed her rudder, and came up into the wind. There was amomentary lull, and then as her head payed round towards the shore, afresh gust struck her with even greater force than ever. Some roperefused to run, it was but for an instant, but that instant sealed thefate of the boat; over she lay till her sail all but touched the water,and the sea poured in over her side. For a moment she seemed to try torecover herself, and then a wild cry went up to heaven, and the boat laybottom upwards in the trough of the waves.