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AN HONEST SPY.
No one answered Helen's knock. She repeated it, and still no answer
came. Her heart might have failed her, but that she heard voices:
what if they were talking about Leopold? At length, after knocking
four or five times, she heard the step as of a child coming down a
stair; but it passed the door. Clearly no one had heard her. She
knocked yet again, and immediately it was opened by Rachel. The
pleasured surprise that shone up in her face when she saw who it was
that stood without, was lovely to see, and Helen, on whose miserable
isolation it came like a sunrise of humanity, took no counsel with
pride, but, in simple gratitude for the voiceless yet eloquent
welcome, bent down and kissed her. The little arms were flung about
her neck, and the kiss returned with such a gentle warmth and
restrained sweetness as would have satisfied the most fastidious in
the matter of salute--to which class, however, Helen did not belong,
for she seldom kissed anyone. Then Rachel took her by the hand, and
led her into the kitchen, placed a chair for her near the fire, and
said,
"I AM sorry there is no fire in the parlour. The gentlemen are in my
uncle's room. Oh, Miss Lingard, I do wish you could have heard how
they have been talking!"
"Have they been saying anything about my brother?" asked Helen.
"It's all about him," she replied.
"May I ask who the gentlemen are?" said Helen doubtfully.
"Mr. Wingfold and Mr. Drew. They are often here."
"Is it--do you mean Mr. Drew, the draper?"
"Yes. He is one of Mr. Wingfold's best pupils. He brought him to my
uncle, and he has come often ever since."
"I never heard that--Mr. Wingfold--took pupils.--I am afraid I do
not quite understand you.
"I would have said DISCIPLES," returned Rachel smiling; "but that
has grown to feel such a sacred word--as if it belonged only to the
Master, that I didn't like to use it. It would say best what I mean
though; for there are people in Glaston that are actually mending
their ways because of Mr. Wingfold's teaching, and Mr. Drew was the
first of them. It is long since such a thing was heard of in the
Abbey. It never was in my time."
Helen sighed. She wished it had remained possible for her also to
become one of Mr. Wingfold's pupils, but how could she now when she
had learned that what he had to teach was at best but a lovely
phantasm, sprung of the seething together of the conscience and
imagination. George could give account of the whole matter: religion
invariably excited the imagination and weakened the conscience;--witness
the innumerable tales concerning Jesus invented in the first of the
Christian centuries, and about this and that saint in those that
followed! Helen's experience in Leopold's case had certainly been
different, but the other fact remained. Alas, she could not be a pupil
of Mr. Wingfold! She could no longer deceive herself with such comfort.
And yet!--COME UNTO ME, AND I WILL GIVE YOU REST.
"I do wish I could hear them," she said.
"And why not?" returned Rachel. "There is not one of them would not
be glad to see you. I know that."
"I am afraid I should hinder their talk. Would they speak just as
freely as if I were not there? Not that I know why they shouldn't,"
she added; "only the presence of any stranger--"
"You are no stranger to Mr. Wingfold or my uncle," said Rachel, "and
I daresay you know Mr. Drew?"
"To tell you the truth, Miss Polwarth, I have not behaved as I
should either to your uncle or Mr. Wingfold. I know it now that my
brother is gone. They were so good to him! I feel now as if I had
been possessed with an evil spirit. I could not bear them to be more
to him than I was. Oh, how I should like to hear what they are
saying! I feel as if I should get a glimpse of Leopold--almost, if I
might. But I couldn't face them all together. I could not go into
the room."
Rachel was silent for a moment, thinking. Then she said:
"I'll tell you what then: there's no occasion. Between my uncle's
room and mine there's a little closet, where you shall sit and hear
every word. Nothing will divide you from them but a few thin old
boards."
"That would hardly be honourable though--would it?"
"I will answer for it. I shall tell my uncle afterwards. There may
be cases where the motive makes the right or the wrong. It's not as
if you were listening to find out secrets. I shall be in the room,
and that will be a connecting link, you know: they never turn me
out. Come now. We don't know what we may be losing."
The desire to hear Leopold's best friends talk about him was strong
in Helen, but her heart misgave her: was it not unbecoming? She
would be in terror of discovery all the time. In the middle of the
stair, she drew Rachel back and whispered,
"I dare not do it."
"Come on," said Rachel. "Hear what I shall say to them first. After
that you shall do as you please."
Evidently, so quick was her response, her thoughts had been going in
the same direction as Helen's.
"Thank you for trusting me," she added, as Helen again followed her.
Arrived at the top, the one stood trembling, while the other went
into the room.
"Uncle," said Rachel, "I have a friend in the house who is very
anxious to hear you and our friends speak your minds to each other,
but for reasons does not wish to appear: will you allow my friend to
listen without being seen?"
"Is it your wish, Rachel, or are you only conveying the request of
another?" asked her uncle.
"It is my wish," answered Rachel. "I really desire it--if you do not
mind."
She looked from one to another as she spoke. The curate and the
draper indicated a full acquiescence.
"Do you know quite what you are about, Rachel?" asked Polwarth.
"Perfectly, uncle," she answered. "There is no reason why you should
not talk as freely as if you were talking only to me. I will put my
friend in the closet, and you need never think that anyone is in the
house but ourselves."
"Then I have no more to say," returned her uncle with a smile. "Your
FRIEND, whoever he or she may be, is heartily welcome."
Rachel rejoined Helen, who had already drawn nearer to the door of
the closet, and now seated herself right willingly in its shelter,
amidst an atmosphere odorous of apples and herbs. Already the talk
was going on just as before. At first each of the talkers did now
and then remember there was a listener unseen but found, when the
conversation came to a close, that he had for a long time forgotten
it.
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