C. TREDGOLD
THE RECTORY
EVENWOOD
NORTHAMPTONSHIRE
DEAR MR TREDGOLD, —
I write in gratitude for your letter of sympathy to my wife and me. Of course I remember very well meeting you, with Mr Paul Carteret, on the occasion you mention.
It has been a most terrible time for us, made worse by the violent nature of my son’s death. We were first told that a footman by the name of Geddington, temporarily engaged for the evening, was suspected, though there was no obvious reason for the attack; but then came the extraordinary news that the true culprit was Mr Glapthorn, whom I must now call by the name of Glyver. I am sensible that you, too, will have been as utterly shocked as we were to learn that so talented and remarkable a man as Mr Glyver could have committed such a deed. His motives are utterly mysterious, though I now remember (which I had completely forgotten until now) that he was at school with my son. Whether that distant relationship affords any clue to his actions, I cannot say. I have been informed by the police that they believe there may be a connexion with the recent killing of Mr Lucas Trendle, of the Bank of England, which apparently demonstrated many similarities to my son’s. It is supposed that Mr Glyver is suffering from some mental affliction – indeed that he may be actually insane. Of his whereabouts, as I expect you know, there is no sign, & it is likely, I suppose, that he has left the country.
Evenwood, as you may imagine, has been thrown into turmoil. My wife, for whom Phoebus was everything, though she was his mother only by marriage, is inconsolable; and Lord Tansor also is deeply stricken. We have lost a son; he has lost his heir. And then there is poor Miss Carteret. What grief that young woman has had to bear is beyond comprehension. First her father brutally attacked and killed, & now her intended husband. She is a most pitiful sight. I hardly recognized her when I saw her last.
As for myself, I have the comfort of my faith, and the certain knowledge that the God of Abraham and Isaac has taken Phoebus unto Himself. My son was held in such high esteem by everyone who knew him, & by the many readers of his works who did not know him, that we have been overwhelmed by kind expressions of condolence. These, too, have been a great comfort.
As so often in times of trial, I turn to Sir Thomas Browne. On opening the
‘What is made to be immortal, nature cannot – nor will the voice of God – destroy.’
This is my faith. This is my hope.
I remain, my dear Sir, yours faithfully,
A.B. DAUNT
DEAR CAPTAIN LE GRICE, —
I am in receipt of your enquiry concerning Edward Glyver.
From your letter it appears that you have been the recipient of various confidences concerning Edward’s history. This, I may say, came as something of a surprise to me; I had thought I was the only person in whom he confided. But it seems that none of us can truly claim to know Edward Glyver; to emphasize the point, I am now in correspondence with a Miss Isabella Gallini, with whom, I gather, Edward enjoyed a close relationship for some time past, but which he had never mentioned to me.
And now it has come to this. I cannot say that I did not fear it would; or to another outcome that, perhaps, we would both have regretted even more. We shall never see him again – of that I am certain. You tell me that you urged him to go abroad, and to give up the business we both know about. If only he had taken your advice! But by then it was past all remedy – you must have seen, as I did, that fixed, haunted look in his eyes.
Miss Carteret suffers, I am told; but the business has at least cured Lord Tansor of his irrational aversion to the collateral line, and so she will have the comfort in due course of inheriting both the Tansor title, and all the property associated with it. What Edward will feel if he learns of this, I cannot imagine.
As to the deceased gentleman, the least said the better. You will infer that I did not share the world’s good opinion of him – though I do not say that he deserved to die. He did great wrong – to Edward, certainly; but there are other things concerning Phoebus Daunt that may never now be told – at least until much time has passed and no more hurt or harm can be done. But there has been enough of death and deceit; and for what purpose?
I hope this letter will find you safe and well, and I pray that God will protect you, and all our brave soldiers. We have all been appalled by Mr Russell’s reports.*
Yours most sincerely,
C. TREDGOLD.
DEAR MR TREDGOLD, —
Yr letter arrived only this morning, but I hurry to send you a reply.
I have not seen him since that snowy night in December last. There had been a falling-out between us, I’m afraid, which I greatly regretted. He stood on the front step & wd not come into the house, saying only that he was leaving England for a time and that he had come to beg my forgiveness for being unable to love me as he said I deserved. Then he told me his real name & the truth about his birth – replacing the half-truths (I will not say lies) I had formerly been given. I understand that you have been long aware of who he really is – he spoke of you most affectionately, & with gratitude for how you have tried to help him. It is a most extraordinary story, & I confess that, at first, I was inclined to think it was all fancy, if not something worse; but I soon saw in his eyes that he was at last speaking the truth. I know also about Miss C—, & how she deceived him in order to deprive him of the proof that would have delivered everything he had dreamed of into his hands. He told me that he
