Complete Works of Thomas Hardy (Illustrated) (366 page)

Professional sympathy is often accepted from those whose condolence on any domestic matter would be considered intrusive. Havill walked up and down beside Dare for a few moments in silence, and at last showed that the words had told, by saying: ‘Every one may have his opinion. Had I been a stranger to the Power family, the case would have been different; but having been specially elected by the lady’s father as a competent adviser in such matters, and then to be degraded to the position of a mere competitor, it wounds me to the quick — ’

‘Both in purse and in person, like the ill-used hostess of the Garter.’

‘A lady to whom I have been a staunch friend,’ continued Havill, not heeding the interruption.

At that moment sounds seemed to come from Dare which bore a remarkable resemblance to the words, ‘Ho, ho, Havill!’ It was hardly credible, and yet, could he be mistaken? Havill turned. Dare’s eye was twisted comically upward.

‘What does that mean?’ said Havill coldly, and with some amazement.

‘Ho, ho, Havill! “Staunch friend” is good — especially after “an iconoclast and Vandal by blood” — ”monstrosity in the form of a Greek temple,” and so on, eh!’

‘Sir, you have the advantage of me. Perhaps you allude to that anonymous letter?’

‘O-ho, Havill!’ repeated the boy-man, turning his eyes yet further towards the zenith. ‘To an outsider such conduct would be natural; but to a friend who finds your pocket-book, and looks into it before returning it, and kindly removes a leaf bearing the draft of a letter which might injure you if discovered there, and carefully conceals it in his own pocket — why, such conduct is unkind!’ Dare held up the abstracted leaf.

Havill trembled. ‘I can explain,’ he began.

‘It is not necessary: we are friends,’ said Dare assuringly.

Havill looked as if he would like to snatch the leaf away, but altering his mind, he said grimly: ‘Well, I take you at your word: we are friends. That letter was concocted before I knew of the competition: it was during my first disgust, when I believed myself entirely supplanted.’

‘I am not in the least surprised. But if she knew YOU to be the writer!’

‘I should be ruined as far as this competition is concerned,’ said Havill carelessly. ‘Had I known I was to be invited to compete, I should not have written it, of course. To be supplanted is hard; and thereby hangs a tale.’

‘Another tale? You astonish me.’

‘Then you have not heard the scandal, though everybody is talking about it.’

‘A scandal implies indecorum.’

‘Well, ‘tis indecorous. Her infatuated partiality for him is patent to the eyes of a child; a man she has only known a few weeks, and one who obtained admission to her house in the most irregular manner! Had she a watchful friend beside her, instead of that moonstruck Mrs. Goodman, she would be cautioned against bestowing her favours on the first adventurer who appears at her door. It is a pity, a great pity!’

‘O, there is love-making in the wind?’ said Dare slowly. ‘That alters the case for me. But it is not proved?’

‘It can easily be proved.’

‘I wish it were, or disproved.’

‘You have only to come this way to clear up all doubts.’

Havill took the lad towards the tent, from which the strains of a waltz now proceeded, and on whose sides flitting shadows told of the progress of the dance. The companions looked in. The rosy silk lining of the marquee, and the numerous coronas of wax lights, formed a canopy to a radiant scene which, for two at least of those who composed it, was an intoxicating one. Paula and Somerset were dancing together.

‘That proves nothing,’ said Dare.

‘Look at their rapt faces, and say if it does not,’ sneered Havill.

Dare objected to a judgment based on looks alone.

‘Very well — time will show,’ said the architect, dropping the tent-curtain.... ‘Good God! a girl worth fifty thousand and more a year to throw herself away upon a fellow like that — she ought to be whipped.’

‘Time must NOT show!’ said Dare.

‘You speak with emphasis.’

‘I have reason. I would give something to be sure on this point, one way or the other. Let us wait till the dance is over, and observe them more carefully. Horensagen ist halb gelogen! Hearsay is half lies.’

Sheet-lightnings increased in the northern sky, followed by thunder like the indistinct noise of a battle. Havill and Dare retired to the trees. When the dance ended Somerset and his partner emerged from the tent, and slowly moved towards the tea-house. Divining their goal Dare seized Havill’s arm; and the two worthies entered the building unseen, by first passing round behind it. They seated themselves in the back part of the interior, where darkness prevailed.

As before related, Paula and Somerset came and stood within the door. When the rain increased they drew themselves further inward, their forms being distinctly outlined to the gaze of those lurking behind by the light from the tent beyond. But the hiss of the falling rain and the lowness of their tones prevented their words from being heard.

‘I wish myself out of this!’ breathed Havill to Dare, as he buttoned his coat over his white waistcoat. ‘I told you it was true, but you wouldn’t believe. I wouldn’t she should catch me here eavesdropping for the world!’

‘Courage, Man Friday,’ said his cooler comrade.

Paula and her lover backed yet further, till the hem of her skirt touched Havill’s feet. Their attitudes were sufficient to prove their relations to the most obstinate Didymus who should have witnessed them. Tender emotions seemed to pervade the summer-house like an aroma. The calm ecstasy of the condition of at least one of them was not without a coercive effect upon the two invidious spectators, so that they must need have remained passive had they come there to disturb or annoy. The serenity of Paula was even more impressive than the hushed ardour of Somerset: she did not satisfy curiosity as Somerset satisfied it; she piqued it. Poor Somerset had reached a perfectly intelligible depth — one which had a single blissful way out of it, and nine calamitous ones; but Paula remained an enigma all through the scene.

The rain ceased, and the pair moved away. The enchantment worked by their presence vanished, the details of the meeting settled down in the watchers’ minds, and their tongues were loosened. Dare, turning to Havill, said, ‘Thank you; you have done me a timely turn to-day.’

‘What! had you hopes that way?’ asked Havill satirically.

‘I! The woman that interests my heart has yet to be born,’ said Dare, with a steely coldness strange in such a juvenile, and yet almost convincing. ‘But though I have not personal hopes, I have an objection to this courtship. Now I think we may as well fraternize, the situation being what it is?’

‘What is the situation?’

‘He is in your way as her architect; he is in my way as her lover: we don’t want to hurt him, but we wish him clean out of the neighbourhood.’

‘I’ll go as far as that,’ said Havill.

‘I have come here at some trouble to myself, merely to observe: I find I ought to stay to act.’

‘If you were myself, a married man with people dependent on him, who has had a professional certainty turned to a miserably remote contingency by these events, you might say you ought to act; but what conceivable difference it can make to you who it is the young lady takes to her heart and home, I fail to understand.’

‘Well, I’ll tell you — this much at least. I want to keep the place vacant for another man.’

‘The place?’

‘The place of husband to Miss Power, and proprietor of that castle and domain.’

‘That’s a scheme with a vengeance. Who is the man?’

‘It is my secret at present.’

‘Certainly.’ Havill drew a deep breath, and dropped into a tone of depression. ‘Well, scheme as you will, there will be small advantage to me,’ he murmured. ‘The castle commission is as good as gone, and a bill for two hundred pounds falls due next week.’

‘Cheer up, heart! My position, if you only knew it, has ten times the difficulties of yours, since this disagreeable discovery. Let us consider if we can assist each other. The competition drawings are to be sent in — when?’

‘In something over six weeks — a fortnight before she returns from the Scilly Isles, for which place she leaves here in a few days.’

‘O, she goes away — that’s better. Our lover will be working here at his drawings, and she not present.’

‘Exactly. Perhaps she is a little ashamed of the intimacy.’

‘And if your design is considered best by the committee, he will have no further reason for staying, assuming that they are not definitely engaged to marry by that time?’

‘I suppose so,’ murmured Havill discontentedly. ‘The conditions, as sent to me, state that the designs are to be adjudicated on by three members of the Institute called in for the purpose; so that she may return, and have seemed to show no favour.’

‘Then it amounts to this: your design MUST be best. It must combine the excellences of your invention with the excellences of his. Meanwhile a coolness should be made to arise between her and him: and as there would be no artistic reason for his presence here after the verdict is pronounced, he would perforce hie back to town. Do you see?’

‘I see the ingenuity of the plan, but I also see two insurmountable obstacles to it. The first is, I cannot add the excellences of his design to mine without knowing what those excellences are, which he will of course keep a secret. Second, it will not be easy to promote a coolness between such hot ones as they.’

‘You make a mistake. It is only he who is so ardent. She is only lukewarm. If we had any spirit, a bargain would be struck between us: you would appropriate his design; I should cause the coolness.’

‘How could I appropriate his design?’

‘By copying it, I suppose.’

‘Copying it?’

‘By going into his studio and looking it over.’

Havill turned to Dare, and stared. ‘By George, you don’t stick at trifles, young man. You don’t suppose I would go into a man’s rooms and steal his inventions like that?’

‘I scarcely suppose you would,’ said Dare indifferently, as he rose.

‘And if I were to,’ said Havill curiously, ‘how is the coolness to be caused?’

‘By the second man.’

‘Who is to produce him?’

‘Her Majesty’s Government.’

Havill looked meditatively at his companion, and shook his head. ‘In these idle suppositions we have been assuming conduct which would be quite against my principles as an honest man.’

CHAPTER II.

A few days after the party at Stancy Castle, Dare was walking down the High Street of Markton, a cigarette between his lips and a silver-topped cane in his hand. His eye fell upon a brass plate on an opposite door, bearing the name of Mr. Havill, Architect. He crossed over, and rang the office bell.

The clerk who admitted him stated that Mr. Havill was in his private room, and would be disengaged in a short time. While Dare waited the clerk affixed to the door a piece of paper bearing the words ‘Back at 2,’ and went away to his dinner, leaving Dare in the room alone.

Dare looked at the different drawings on the boards about the room. They all represented one subject, which, though unfinished as yet, and bearing no inscription, was recognized by the visitor as the design for the enlargement and restoration of Stancy Castle. When he had glanced it over Dare sat down.

The doors between the office and private room were double; but the one towards the office being only ajar Dare could hear a conversation in progress within. It presently rose to an altercation, the tenor of which was obvious. Somebody had come for money.

‘Really I can stand it no longer, Mr. Havill — really I will not!’ said the creditor excitedly. ‘Now this bill overdue again — what can you expect? Why, I might have negotiated it; and where would you have been then? Instead of that, I have locked it up out of consideration for you; and what do I get for my considerateness? I shall let the law take its course!’

‘You’ll do me inexpressible harm, and get nothing whatever,’ said Havill. ‘If you would renew for another three months there would be no difficulty in the matter.’

‘You have said so before: I will do no such thing.’

There was a silence; whereupon Dare arose without hesitation, and walked boldly into the private office. Havill was standing at one end, as gloomy as a thundercloud, and at the other was the unfortunate creditor with his hat on. Though Dare’s entry surprised them, both parties seemed relieved.

‘I have called in passing to congratulate you, Mr. Havill,’ said Dare gaily. ‘Such a commission as has been entrusted to you will make you famous!’

‘How do you do? — I wish it would make me rich,’ said Havill drily.

‘It will be a lift in that direction, from what I know of the profession. What is she going to spend?’

‘A hundred thousand.’

‘Your commission as architect, five thousand. Not bad, for making a few sketches. Consider what other great commissions such a work will lead to.’

‘What great work is this?’ asked the creditor.

‘Stancy Castle,’ said Dare, since Havill seemed too agape to answer. ‘You have not heard of it, then? Those are the drawings, I presume, in the next room?’

Havill replied in the affirmative, beginning to perceive the manoeuvre. ‘Perhaps you would like to see them?’ he said to the creditor.

The latter offered no objection, and all three went into the drawing-office.

‘It will certainly be a magnificent structure,’ said the creditor, after regarding the elevations through his spectacles. ‘Stancy Castle: I had no idea of it! and when do you begin to build, Mr. Havill?’ he inquired in mollified tones.

‘In three months, I think?’ said Dare, looking to Havill.

Havill assented.

‘Five thousand pounds commission,’ murmured the creditor. ‘Paid down, I suppose?’

Havill nodded.

‘And the works will not linger for lack of money to carry them out, I imagine,’ said Dare. ‘Two hundred thousand will probably be spent before the work is finished.’

‘There is not much doubt of it,’ said Havill.