93.
Chapter XCIII.
THE ALARM AT ANDERBURY. —THE SUSPICIONS OF THE BANNERWORTH FAMILY, AND THE
MYSTERIOUS COMMUNICATION.
About twenty miles to the southward of Bannerworth Hall was a good-sized
market-town, called Anderbury. It was an extensive and flourishing place, and
from the beauty of its situation, and its contiguity to the southern coast of
England, it was much admired; and, in consequence, numerous mansions and
villas of great pretension had sprang up in its immediate neighbourhood.
Besides, there were some estates of great value, and one of these, called
Anderbury-on-the-Mount, in consequence of the mansion itself, which was of an
immense extent, being built upon an eminence, was to be let, or sold.
This town of Anderbury was remarkable not only for the beauty of its
aspect, but likewise for the quiet serenity of its inhabitants, who were a
prosperous, thriving race, and depended very much upon their own resources.
There were some peculiar circumstances why Anderbury-on-the-Mount was to
let. It had been for a great number of years in possession of a family of the
name of Milltown, who had resided there in great comfort and respectablity,
until an epidemic disorder broke out, first among the servants, and then
spreading to the junior branches of the family, and from them to their
seniors, produced such devastation, that in the course of three weeks there
was but one young man left of the whole family, and he, by native vigour of
constitution, had baffled the disorder, and found himself alone in his
ancestral halls, the last of his race.
Soon a settled melancholy took possession of him, and all that had
formerly delighted him now gave him pain, inasmuch as it brought to his mind a
host of recollections of the most agonising character.
In vain was it that the surrounding gentry paid him every possible
attention, and endeavoured to do all that was in their power to alleviate the
unhappy circumstances in which he was placed. If he smiled, it was in a sad
sort, and that was very seldom; and at length he announced his intention of
leaving the neighbourhood, and seeking abroad, and in change of scene, for
that solace which he could not expect to find in his ancestral home, after
what had occurred within its ancient walls.
There was not a chamber but which reminded him of the past —there was
not a tree or a plant of any kind or description but which spoke to him
plainly of those who were now no more, and whose merry laughter had within his
own memory made that ancient place echo with glee, filling the sunny air with
the most gladsome shouts, such as come from the lips of happy youth long
before the world has robbed it of any of its romance or its beauty.
There was a general feeling of regret when this young man announced the
fact of his departure to a foreign land; for he was much respected, and the
known calamities which he had suffered, and the grief under which he laboured,
invested his character with a great and painful interest.
An entertainment was given to him upon the eve of his departure, and on
the next day he was many miles from the place, and the estate of Anderbury-on-the-Mount was understood to be sold or let.
The old mansion had remained, then, for a year or two vacant, for it was
a place of too much magnitude, and required by far too expensive an
establishment to keep it going, to enable any person whose means were not very
large to think of having anything to do with it.
So, therefore, it remained unlet, and wearing that gloomy aspect which a
large house, untenanted, so very quickly assumes.
It was quite a melancholy thing to look upon it, and to think what it
must have once been, and what it might be still, compared to what it actually
was; and the inhabitants of the neighbourhood had made up their minds that
Anderbury-on-the-Mount would remain untenanted for many a year to come, and,
perhaps, ultimately fall into ruin and decay.
But in this they were doomed to be disappointed, for, on the evening of
a dull and gloomy day, about one week after the events we have recorded as
taking place at Bannerworth Hall and its immediate neighbourhood, a travelling
carriage, with four horses and an out-rider, came dashing into the place, and
drew up at the principal inn in the town, which was called the Anderbury Arms.
The appearance of such an equipage, although not the most unusual thing
in the world, in consequence of the many aristocratic families who resided in
the neighbourhood, caused, at all events, some sensation, and, perhaps, the
more so because it drove up to the inn instead of to any of the mansions of
the neighbourhood, thereby showing that the stranger, whoever he was, came not
as a visitor, but either merely baited in the town, being on his road
somewhere else, or had some special business in it which would soon be
learned.
The out-rider, who was in handsome livery, had gallopped on in advance of
the carriage a short distance, for the purpose of ordering the best apartments
in the inn to be immediately prepared for the reception of his master.
"Who is he?" asked the landlord.
"It's the Baron Stolmuyer Saltsburgh."
"Bless my heart, I never heard of him before; where did he come from—
somewhere abroad I suppose?"
"I can't tell you anything of him further than that he is immensely rich,
and is looking for a house. He has heard that there is one to let in this
immediate neighbourhood, and that's what has brought him from London, I
suppose."
"Yes, there is one; and it is called Anderbury-on-the-Mount."
"Well, he will very likely speak to you about it himself, for here he
comes."
By this time the carriage had halted at the door of the hotel, and, the
door being opened, and the steps lowered, there alighted from it a tall man
attired in a kind of pelisse, or cloak, trimmed with rich fur, the body of it
being composed of velvet. Upon his head he wore a travelling cap, and his
fingers, as he grasped the cloak around him, were seen to be covered with
rings of great value.
Such a personage, coming in such style, was, of course, likely to be
honoured in every possible way by the landlord of the inn, and accordingly he
was shown most obsequiously to the handsomest apartment in the house, and the
whole establishment was put upon the alert to attend to any orders he might
choose to give.
He had not been long in the place when he sent for the landlord, who,
hastily scrambling on his best coat, and getting his wife to arrange the tie
of his neckcloth, proceeded to obey the orders of his illustrious guest,
whatever they might chance to be.
He found the Baron Stolmuyer reclining upon a sofa, and having thrown
aside his velvet cloak, trimmed with rich fur, he showed that underneath it
he wore a costume of great richness and beauty, although, certainly, the form
of it covered was not calculated to set it off to any great advantage, for the
baron was merely skin and bone, and looked like a man who had just emerged
from a long illness, for his face was ghastly pale, and the landlord could not
help observing that there was a strange peculiarity about his eyes, the reason
of which he could not make out.
"You are the landlord of this inn, I presume," said the baron, "and,
consequently, no doubt well acquainted with the neighbourhood?"
"I have the honour to be all that, sir. I have been here about sixteen
years, and in that time I certainly ought to know something of the
neighbourhood."
"'Tis well; some one told me there was a little cottage sort of place to
let here, and as I am simple and retired in my habits I thought that it might
possibly suit me."
"A little cottage, sir! There are certainly little cottages to let, but
not such as would suit you; and if I might have presumed, sir, to think, I
should have considered Anderbury-on-the-Mount, which is now to let, would have
been the place for you. It is a large place, sir, and belonged to a good
family, although they are now all dead and gone, except one, and it's he who
want's to let the old place."
"Anderbury-on-the-Mount," said the baron, "was the name of the place
mentioned to me; but I understood it was a little place."
"Oh! sir, that is quite a mistake; who told you so? It's the largest
place about here; there are a matter of twenty-seven rooms in it, and it
stands altogether upon three hundred acres of ground."
"And have you the assurance," said the baron, "to call that anything but
a cottage, when the castle of the Stolmuyers, at Saltzburgh, has one suite of
reception rooms thirty in number, opening into each other, and the total
number of apartments in the and whole building is two hundred and sixty, it is
surrounded by eight miles of territory."
"The devil!" said the landlord. "I beg your pardon, sir, but when I am
astonished, I generally say the devil. They want eight hundred pounds a year
for Anderbury-on-the-Mount."
"A mere trifle. I will sleep here to-night, and in the morning I will go
and look at the place. It is near the sea?"
"Half a mile, sir, exactly, from the beach; and one of the most curious
circumstances of all connected with it is, that there is a subterranean
passage from the grounds leading right away down to the sea-coast. A most
curious place, sir, partly put out of the cliff, with cellars in it for wine,
and other matters, that in the height of summer are kept as cool as in the
deep winter time. It's more for curiosity than use, such a place; and the old
couple, that now take care of the house, make a pretty penny, I'll be bound,
though they won't own it, by showing that part of the place."
"It may suit me, but I shall be able to give a decisive answer when I see
it on the morrow. You will let my attendants have what they require, and see
that my horses be well looked to."
"Certainly, oh! certainly sir, or course; you might go far, indeed, sir,
before you found an inn where everything would be done as things are done
here. Is there anything in particular, sir, you would like for dinner?"
"How can I tell that, idiot, until the dinner time arrives?"
"Well, but, sir, in that case, you know, we scarcely know what to do,
because you see, sir, you understand—"
"It is very strange to me that you can neither see nor understand your
duty. I am accustomed to having the dinner tables spread with all that money
can procure; then I choose, but not before, what it suits me to partake of."
"Well, sir, that is a very good way, and perhaps we ain't quite so used
to that sort of thing as we ought to be in these parts; but another time, sir,
we shall know better what we are about, without a doubt, and I only hope, sir,
that we shall have you in the neighbourhood for a long time; and so, sir,
putting one thing to another, and then drawing a conclusion from both of them,
you see, sir, you will be able to understand."
"Peace! begone! what is the use of all this bellowing to me—I want it
not—I care not for it."
The baron spoke these words so furiously, that the landlord was rather
terrified than otherwise, and left the room hastily, muttering to himself that
he had never come across such a tiger, and wondering where the baron could
have possibly come from, and what amount of wealth he could be possessed of
that would enable him to live in such a princely style as he mentioned.
If the Baron Stolmuyer of Saltzburgh had wished ever so much to impress
upon the minds of all persons in the neighbourhood the fact of his wealth and
importance, he could not have adopted a better plan to accomplish that object
than by first of all impressing such facts upon the mind of the landlord of
the Anderbury Arms, for in the course of another hour it was tolerably well
spread all over the town, that never had there been such a guest at the
Anderbury Arms; and that he called Anderbury-on-the-Mount, with all its rooms
—all its outbuildings, and its three hundred acres of ground, a cottage.
This news spread like wildfire, awaking no end of speculation, and giving
rise to the most exaggerated rumours, so that a number of persons came to the
inn on purpose to endeavour to get a look at the baron; but he did not stir
from his apartments, so that these wondermongers were disappointed, and even
forced to go away as wise as they came; but in the majority of cases they made
up their minds that in the morning they should surely be able to obtain a
glimpse of him, which was considered a great treat, for a man with an immense
income is looked upon in England as a natural curiosity.
The landlord took his guest at his word as regards the dinner, and
provided such a repast as seldom, indeed, graced the board at the Anderbury
Arms —a repast sufficient for twenty people, and certainly which was a
monstrous thing to set before one individual.
The baron, however, made no remark, but selected a portion from some of
the dishes, and those dishes that he did select from, were of the simplest
kind, and not such as the landlord expected him to take, so that he really
paid about one hundred times the amount he ought to have done for what
actually passed his lips.
And then what a fidget the landlord was in about his wines, for he
doubted not but such a guest would be extremely critical and hard to please;
but, to his great relief, the baron declined taking any wine, merely washing
down his repast with a tumbler of cool water; and then, although the hour was
very early, he retired at once to rest.
The landlord was not disposed to disregard the injunction which the baron
had given him to attend carefully on his servants and horses, and after giving
orders that nothing should be stinted as regarded the latter, he himself
looked to the creature comforts of the former, and he did this with a double
motive, for not only was he anxious to make the most he could out of the baron
in the way of charges, but he was positively panting with curiosity to know
more about so singular a personage, and he thought that surely the servants
must be able to furnish him with some particulars regarding their eccentric
master.
In this, however, he was mistaken, for although they told him all they
knew, that amounted to so little as really not to be worth the learning.
They informed him that they had been engaged all in the last week, and
that they knew nothing of the baron whatever, or where he came from, or what
he was, excepting that he paid them most liberal wages, and was not very
exacting in the service he required of them.
This was very unsatisfactory, and when the landlord started on a mission,
which he considered himself bound to perform, to a Mr. Leek, in the town, who
had the letting of Anderbury-on-the-Mount, he was quite vexed to think what a
small amount of information he was able to carry to him.
"I can tell him," he said to himself as he went quickly towards the
agent's residence; "I can tell him the baron's name, and that in the morning
he wants to look at Anderbury-on-the-Mount; but that's all I know of him,
except that he is a most extraordinary man—indeed, the most extraordinary
that I ever came near."
Mr. Leek, the house agent, notwithstanding the deficiency of the facts
contained in the landlord's statement, was well enough satisfied to hear that
any one of apparent wealth was inquiring after the large premises to let, for,
as he said truly to the landlord, —
"The commission on letting and receiving the rentals of such a property
is no joke to me."
"Precisely," said the landlord. "I thought it was better to come and
tell you at once, for there can be no doubt that he is enormously rich."
"If that be satisfactorily proved, it's of no consequence what he is, or
who he is, and you may depend I shall be round to the inn early in the morning
to attend upon him; and in that case, perhaps, if you have any conversation
with him, you will be so good as to mention that I will show him over the
premises at his own hour, and you shall not be forgotten, you may depend, if
any arrangement is actually come to. It will be just as well for you to tell
him what a nice property it is, and that it is to be let for eight hundred a
year, or sold outright for eight thousand pounds."
"I will, you may depend, Mr. Leek. A most extraordinary man you will
find him; not the handsomest in the world, I can tell you, but handsome is as
handsome does, say I; and, if he takes Anderbury-on-the-Mount, I have no
doubt but he will spend a lot of money in the neighbourhood, and we shall all
be the better of that, of course, as you well know, sir."
This then was thoroughly agreed upon between these high contracting
powers, and the landlord returned home very well satisfied, indeed, with the
position in which he had put the affair, and resolved upon urging on the
baron, as far as it lay within his power so to do, to establish himself in the
neighbourhood, and to allow him to be purveyor-in-general to his household,
which, if the baron continued in his liberal humour, would be unquestionably
a very pleasant post to occupy.
—