The Meaning of Night

The clock on Le Grice’s mantel-piece struck three o’clock.

He had said nothing after I had finished telling him of my conversation with Mr Tredgold in the Temple Gardens. Behind him, in the shadows, towered a portrait of his father, Brigadier-General Sir Hastings Le Grice, of the 22nd Foot, who famously distinguished himself with Napier at the Battle of Meeanee.^* Stretched out below, his long legs resting on the brass fender, the general’s son sat gazing at the ceiling, ruminatively twirling the end of his moustache.

‘This is a tangled tale, G,’ he said at last, grasping a poker and leaning forward to stir the dying embers of the fire, ‘so let me see if I’ve got things straight. Old Tansor has taken it into his head to leave everything to Daunt, except his title, which isn’t his to give. You believe you’re Tansor’s heir, but can’t prove it. Now this chap Carteret has come along with a little secret to impart, which may, or may not, have a bearing on the case. So far, so good. But, look here: it’s all very well, you know, to make Daunt pay for what he did to you at school. It’s a long time to bear a grudge, but that’s your business, and I can’t say I mightn’t have felt the same myself. But, hang it, G, you can’t blame Daunt if old Tansor has taken a fancy to him. It’s rum that it should be Daunt, I’ll grant; dashed bad luck actually, but …’

‘Luck?’ I cried. ‘Not luck, not chance, not coincidence! Can’t you see? There’s a fatality at work here, between him and me. It had to be Daunt! It could have been no one else. And there’s worse to come. Much worse.’

‘Well, then,’ said Le Grice, calmly, ‘you’d better push on, as quickly as you can, and tell me the rest. The regiment leaves in three weeks, and if I’m to perish valiantly for Queen and Country, then I must know that all’s well with you before I go. So, speed on, Great King, and let’s hear all about Carteret and his mysterious discovery.’

He refilled his glass and leaned back in his chair once more, whilst I, taking my cue, lit another cigar, and began to tell him of Mr Carteret’s letter, in which, though I did not yet know it, the seeds of an even greater betrayal had been sown.

^*[Baronies by Writ are, in fact, a legal fiction. As a result of decisions made in the House of Lords and elsewhere, between the early seventeenth century and the early nineteenth, a doctrine – now considered indefensible – grew up that, where a man had been directly summoned to attend one of a specific list of medieval parliaments, and there was evidence that he had done so, and that he was not the eldest son of a peer or another person also summoned to such a parliament, then he could be taken as thereby honoured with a Barony, in the modern sense of a peerage. It was further construed (as Mr Tredgold rightly says) that such titles were heritable by heirs general of the first baron, though no medieval writ deals with the matter of succession, for the simple reason that they were not then conceived as creating an hereditary title of honour. However, by the mid-nineteenth century the legal doctrine of heritable Baronies by Writ held full sway. Ed.]

^*[The younger son of Sophia Mary Carteret, nee Duport (1765–1836), Lord Tansor’s aunt. Ed.]

^*[Penelope: A Tragedy, in Verse (Bell & Daldy, 1853). Ed.]

^*[This process would have ‘barred’, or rendered ineffective, the entailed property – i.e. the oldest part of the Tansor inheritance, which included Evenwood and the other principal estates that had been settled ‘in tail general’ on all heirs inheriting the title of Baron Tansor. As entailed property, it could not in the normal way be disposed of by any one possessor as absolute owner; but by breaking the entail, Lord Tansor would be free to bequeath this property to his nominated heir. Ed.]

^*[The Battle of Meeanee (or Miani), a few miles north of Hyderabad in present-day Pakistan, was fought on 17 February 1843, during the Sind War of that year. A British force of under three thousand men, commanded by Sir Charles Napier (1782–1853), defeated the emirs of Sind, whose army numbered over twenty thousand. Sind was subsequently annexed by Britain. Ed.]

PART THE THIRD

Into the Shadow

October 1853

I will take heed both of a speedy friend, and a slow enemy.

Owen Felltham, Resolves (1623), iii,

‘A Friend and Enemy, When Most Dangerous’

19

Fide, sed cui vide^*

Back in my rooms, after the discussion with Mr Tredgold in the Temple Gardens, I considered the new prospect that now lay before me.

My position had appeared fatally threatened by the revelation that Lord Tansor had determined to make Daunt his heir; but now Mr Tredgold seemed to offer the startling possibility of a resolution in my favour, if his inference concerning Mr Carteret’s discovery was correct. Did Lord Tansor’s secretary indeed possess the proof that I needed?

This is the letter that Mr Tredgold had received, and which he had given to me when we parted with the words, ‘Read this, Edward, and tell me what you think should be done.’

The Dower House, Evenwood Park

Evenwood, Northamptonshire

Wednesday, 5th October 1853MY DEAR TREDGOLD, —I write to you in a strictly private & confidential capacity, in the full knowledge that your own rectitude & respect for my position here will ensure that no word or hint of this communication will be given to any third party, especially to my employer. We have had many occasions to correspond over the years in a professional capacity, and it has been my pleasure also to welcome you to Evenwood as a much esteemed guest – and friend. I therefore hope and believe that the sincerity of my regard for you will be more than sufficient to bind you to this undertaking.What I wish to say to you, most urgently, cannot be set down in writing but must be conveyed to you in person, for it goes to the heart of the present matter. I am aware – acutely aware – that my position is a delicate one, since my own interests are involved. But you will know that I speak God’s truth when I say that I have always had the sincerest desire to serve my employer to the best of my ability, regardless of my personal interests.I have been troubled for some little time by a matter that has presented itself to me, quite unexpectedly, in the course of my work here, relating to the question that is of most concern to my employer, and which he is now seeking to resolve by the means of which we are both aware. The consequences are momentous for his Lordship, and have their origins in the actions of a certain person, now deceased, for whom you and I once cherished an exceptional regard. But I cannot say more in writing.I am unable to come up to town for some weeks, and so you would oblige me greatly if you could suggest some arrangement for us to meet in the country in private. I