Читать книгу The Mystery of Murrawang - Edward S Sorenson - Страница 8

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Whenever Mrs. Borrn indulged in pedestrian exercise she reminded one of a flurried person making a desperate effort to catch an unobliging train. She held her head up, thrust her chest forward, and stepped out with briskness and much rustling of skirts.

In this manner she led the perspiring Ellis—who wished to loiter and watch the black-boy racing up the stock-horses—to the bottom of the home paddock before she touched upon the something of importance she intended to discuss. Rhea had made a few attempts to open a conversation, but she had only walked the faster. Now she drew a long breath, and smiled at him.

"It's of my daughter Esther I wish to speak," she announced, seating herself upon a raised bauhinia, the appearance of which betokened an old resting-place. Rhea directed a sharp, suspicious look at her, then sat moodily, pulling at his moustache.

"It is an extraordinary thing that she has not been seen or heard of for so long. I don't know what could have come over her. She was never quite the same girl after—after that unfortunate mistake was made in regard to yourself.

"Very extraordinary," Rhea assented.

"Of course, there is no blame laid to you. None whatever. But wait till I tell you. Esther, during those months, was a great deal more at Berrinong and Moreena than at home. Though we believed ourselves at the time well informed as to her movements and doings, it has since occurred to me that there must have been something of which we were kept in ignorance."

"Of what nature?"

"Perhaps some love affair."

"But I was her intended husband," Rhea dissented.

"Oh, yes, so we believed. But, don't you see, there may have been someone else whom she regarded with favor, and to whose importunities she yielded when—you had got into trouble."

"Oh, that's ridiculous," Rhea testily objected. "I credit myself with having known Miss Borrn thoroughly, and I am confident of her attachment to me being too sincere to permit of her giving an amorous thought to another. She wasn't a flirt; she was one of the steady, homely, sympathetic sort."

"However well you may have known her," Mrs. Borrn persisted, "you must allow her mother, who nurtured her from birth, to know her better."

"Of course, a mother's eyes are naturally quick to detect any little failing or blemish, any mood or change. But is not a lover in the same position?"

"By no means. A mother knows her child before she is old enough to hide her feelings, or to conceal her failings; but she has learnt to dissemble when the lover steps in. He is mostly blind, in a sense—too apt to exaggerate every little virtue and minimise whatever is defective. Now, Mr. Rhea, I take you to be a man subject to the common delusive notions of your kind."

"And pray, what are they?"

"That your own judgment is more reliable than anyone else's; that you can't be deceived in matters of everyday occurrence."

"I am certain I was not deceived in Miss Borrn. She is the last one in the world I should have suspected of duplicity."

"That is as it should be. But wait till I tell you. No man who is an interested party is qualified to judge. He must be able to view and criticise with perfect equanimity and impartiality. A lover certainly cannot."

"But, my dear Mrs. Borrn, love is not a thing that springs into existence before the object of it has been seen. It is association, acquaintance, intercommunion, very often of long duration, that begets love."

"Yes, yes; but I refer to love at first sight, which, if I am rightly informed, is applicable in your case."

"Certainly I was attracted—I might say fascinated—from the first moment I beheld her."

"There you are then!" Mrs. Borrn triumphantly clinched. "You were enraptured with her beauty, and that rendered you incompetent to judge of her character. You did not know that she was weak and irresolute. People called her winsome; they said she had a winning way; but it was only her simplicity, her want of firmness and proper pride, which her beauty in a way concealed."

"I think you do her injustice. She impressed me as a lady of great intelligence, quite capable of holding her own against odds," Rhea returned, plucking at a blade of grass.

"Oh, but you were in love with her. That accounts for a great deal," Mrs. Borrn contended. "Did it never strike you that your cousin Egbert still lives?"

"I have thought at times that he may be living on some lonely island. But what has that to do with it?"

"If it is as you suggest, it would have nothing to do with it; but it was rumored while you were in—er—Morton Bay that he had come by another vessel, which arrived safely; and a Sandgate resident informed Mr. Borrn that he had seen and conversed with a young tourist whom he believed to be Egbert Rhea. He had seen him once or twice before he went abroad. At all events, this young person did leave Brisbane for Murrawang. Whether he got lost in the bush, like poor Reuben, or resolved upon some escapade, I cannot say; but I am inclined to favor the latter supposition. He may be as much alive as you are, and not very far away. He has a motive in remaining incognito, at which I could give a pretty shrewd guess. I believe, too, that Esther will some day swoop down upon us like a hen with a clutch of chickens. I speak lightly on these matters, because I am confident that my daughter lives and is the wife of Egbert Rhea!"

"That's nonsense," Ellis almost inaudibly declared. His cheeks were pale, and he gazed down with a troubled aspect.

"On the contrary," said Mrs. Borrn, "if you consider the circumstances carefully, you'll perceive how very feasible it is. You and Egbert were enemies almost from the cradle.

"When boys together at Murrawang, you were always rivals, constantly involved in some broil or other. He was antagonistic, you have told us, to your advance in any capacity; whatever you set your heart upon accomplishing he would oppose with all the ingenuity of his subtle nature. When you entered Cheater's Office, I remember, you told my husband that you were glad, as it accorded you some immunity from the malicious designs of your cousin. Personally, I never saw anything objectionable in Egbert; but I suppose you knew him best."

"Quite true," Rhea admitted, somewhat sullenly.

"Egbert, you know," Mrs Borrn continued, "was much at our place—between Moreena and Berrinong—and he and Esther were playmates from childhood; whereas you met her for the first time at Welford's, in Berrinong. Egbert was then on his travels round the world. You will excuse my saying so, Mr. Rhea, but there was some tacit understanding between Egbert and Esther that was likely to evolve into a pleasant denouement on his return."

"Imagination, Mrs. Borrn, pure imagination," Rhea dissented.

"Not at all," said the lady, impetuously. "But wait till I tell you. It was after the wreck of the Solent that you became acquainted with her, and possibly disestablished whatever claims Egbert may have had. You may justly combat the assertion that Esther was vain and conceited; that she was not different from the average butterfly of society; but she had her little whims and caprices like the rest of her sex. She had a strong liking for Murrawang, which looks so pretty across the downs; she loved to view it from the top of Kholo Hills when the sun was setting."

"Do you mean to tell me," said Rhea, with a vicious ring in his voice, "that she had a hankering after that home, and was bent on getting there, whether as my wife or Egbert's?"

"I wish to impress upon you that she was early in life attached to Egbert, and that the old place was in consequence imbued with a charm she could not resist."

"In plain words, I am to consider myself as having been a substitute?"

"Don't be unreasonable, Mr. Rhea. I don't discredit your assertion regarding her feelings towards yourself. What I want to point out is this; being his cousin, and remembered among the associations of her girlhood, she naturally turned to you as the only solace at hand. This is not mere supposition, for I can assure you she was much affected on hearing that he was drowned. Is it not probable, then, that she flew to him on his returning as one from the grave, and at the time when you were in prison?"

"That is all plausible enough, Mrs. Borrn; but you're not aware of the fact that she visited me twice during my first week in prison—that was before I was removed to the island—and on each occasion desired me to have the marriage take place on the day originally agreed upon."

"While you were a prisoner!" In shocked tones.

"Even so. She would have married me in gaol."

Mrs. Borrn slewed sharply, and her back stiffened.

"I don't believe it!" she said, looking at him with almost hate in her beautiful eyes.

A hard, pained expression shot into Rhea's face.

"Mrs. Borrn," he remonstrated in a low voice, "I have no cause to tell you a lie."

"And why did you object?" Mrs. Borrn's maternal feelings were severely wounded.

"I thought I had disgraced the family enough already without adding the climax that my assent to such a proposal would have been."

"I didn't know that your courtship had proceeded so far. I never heard before that a day had been agreed upon." There was a biting sarcasm in the words.

"It was just before the trouble occurred," he said, with some reluctance.

"The engagement was not announced," she reminded him.

"Several people knew of it, all the same."

"Was there anything unusual in her manner?"

"Nothing; except that she was much distressed."

"Did she visit you after the first week?"

"No; I never saw her after."

"Had she promised to do so?"

"She told me she would be away for a few months, when she would see me again. But she never came. I heard she was in Brisbane three years ago, and she was then going back to Moreena."

"Yes, she went to Moreena. My brother-in law was to have driven her to Broonah. They were going to start on a Wednesday morning, but, instead, she took the train back to Brisbane, saying that a girl friend of hers, an old schoolmate, was very ill and wished to see her. Whither she went afterwards we've not yet discovered."

"Was not Lydia Munce in Moreena at the time?"

"Yes. She was down for a week's holiday. She called on Esther three or four times at my sister's; but she left town on Tuesday morning on horseback."

"For Broonah?"

"Yes."

"And could she give you no clue?"

"Oh, yes."

"Then you know something?"

"Something that leads me to suppose what I have said in reference to the propinquity of Esther and Egbert." Mrs. Borrn added.

Her companion started as though he had been struck. He fumbled nervously with his watch, which he had just before drawn from his pocket, and observed that it was seven o'clock.

"We'd better be going," Mrs. Borrn said, rising. "By the time we get back breakfast will be ready, and I confess I am quite famished now."

"The walking, I suppose, sharpens your appetite," said Rhea absently.

"Undoubtedly. The matutinal walk is my cure-all. Poor Esther used to enjoy it immensely; but Stella is quite the other way; she's all for riding."

A long silence ensued. As a rule, Mrs. Borrn did not speak much whilst enjoying her constitutional. She contended that it was analagous to burning a candle at both ends to wag her tongue while her legs were in motion. The use of one member at a time was sufficient.

They had reached the yard before Rhea ventured to interrupt her thoughts.

"What was the information you elicited from the woman Munce?"

"Well, it wasn't much, Mr. Rhea; but I must keep you in suspense until we reach the drawing-room. I want to illustrate it."

"To illustrate it?"

"Yes."

"I don't understand you."

"You will presently," Mrs. Borrn rejoined.

Rhea was not at all satisfied with the tenor of Mrs. Borrn's speeches. There was an underlying current of meaning in them, as if she were fully cognisant of the true state of affairs, and desired to probe him with occasional hints, either to torment him or compel him to compromise by revealing whatever knowledge he had of the matter.

Again, it seemed that her intention was to establish the idea that he was never an intimate of the family, much less an elected member. It struck him then that the convict garb had so contaminated him in Mother Grundy's' eyes that, though they believed him innocent, the elite must ever shrug their shoulders and look on him askance.

Marvelling as to what her next move would be, he followed his hostess into the drawing-room. She drew the damask curtains aside, and pointed to a painting of a beautiful young woman standing at the brink of a stream. Beneath it was the legend: "The Pearl of Tiaro."

"That," Mrs. Borrn explained, "'is a complimentary title bestowed on Esther by the settlers when she used to visit the Ralstons. That was after your time. The picture was painted from this photo, which was taken at the time she was in Moreena. Now, do you notice how fresh and smiling her face is? Look at the merriment in her eyes!"

"She certainly looks happy," Rhea conceded, mechanically.

"Very well. Now, look at this portrait; do you know whose that is?"

"Egbert's—is it not?"

"Yes; taken just before he sailed from San Francisco."

"Indeed! You obtained it, I presume, from my uncle?"

"Oh, dear, no. These photos were left by Esther at my sister's."

"But how did she come to possess a late photo of Egbert's? Did he send it to her?"

"Decidedly. They corresponded regularly during the whole time he was away. She did not inform you of this?"

"No."

"Then you were not her confidant?"

"Not wholly, it would seem."

"You admit now that you were mistaken in Esther?"

"To a certain extent."

"And don't you think it likely that they came together?"

"I do not."

"Why?"

"I can think of absolutely no reason for their subsequent conduct, their long silence, and your own theory is so utterly improbable."

She turned away from the picture, still unshaken in her own opinion.

"We'll go to breakfast," she said.