The Tinted Venus: A Farcical Romance by F. Anstey
FROM BAD TO WORSE
IV.
"And the shadow flits and fleets, And will not let me be, And I loathe the squares and streets!"
_Maud._
For some time after the statue had ceased to give signs of life, thehairdresser remained gaping, incapable of thought or action. At last heventured to approach cautiously, and on touching the figure, found itperfectly cold and hard. The animating principle had plainly departed,and left the statue a stone.
"She's gone," he said, "and left her statue behind her! Well, of all the_goes_----She's come out without her pedestal, too! To be sure, it wouldhave been in her way, walking."
Seating himself in his shabby old armchair, he tried to collect hisscattered wits. He scarcely realised, even yet, what had happened; but,unless he had dreamed it all, he had been honoured by the markedattentions of a marble statue, instigated by a heathen goddess, whoinsisted that his affections were pledged to her.
Perhaps there was a spice of flattery in such a situation--for it cannotfall to the lot of many hairdressers to be thus distinguished--butLeander was far too much alarmed to appreciate it. There had beensuggestions of menace in the statue's remarks which made him shudderwhen he recalled them, and he started violently once or twice when somewavering of the light gave a play of life to the marble mask. "She'scoming back!" he thought. "Oh, I do wish she wouldn't!" But Aphroditecontinued immovable, and at last he concluded that, as he put it, she"had done for the evening."
His first reflection was--what had best be done? The wisest courseseemed to be to send for the manager of the gardens, and restore thestatue while its animation was suspended. The people at the gardenswould take care that it did not get loose again.
But there was the ring; he must get that off first. Here was anunhoped-for opportunity of accomplishing this in privacy, and at hisleisure. Again approaching the figure, he tried to draw off thecompromising circle; but it seemed tighter than ever, and he drew out apair of scissors and, after a little hesitation, respectfully insertedit under the hoop and set to work to prize it off, with the result ofsnapping both the points, and leaving the ring entirely unaffected. Heglanced at the face; it wore the same dreamy smile, with a touch ofgentle contempt in it. "She don't seem to mind," he said aloud; "to besure, she ain't inside of it now, as far as I make it out. I've got allnight before me to get the confounded thing off, and I'll go on tillI've done it!"
But he laboured on with the disabled scissors, and only succeeded inscratching the smooth marble a little; he stopped to pant. "There's onlyway," he told himself desperately; "a little diamond cement would makeit all right again; and you expect cracks in a statue."
Then, after a furtive glance around, he fetched the poker from thefireplace. He felt horribly brutal, as if he were going to mutilate andmaltreat a creature that could feel; but he nerved himself to tap theback of Aphrodite's hand at the dimpled base of the third finger. Theshock ran up to his elbow, and gave him acute "pins and needles," butthe stone hand was still intact. He struck again--this time with all hisforce--and the poker flew from his grasp, and his arm dropped paralyzedby his side.
He could scarcely lift it again for some minutes, and the warning madehim refrain from any further violence. "It's no good," he groaned. "If Igo on, I don't know what may happen to me. I must wait till she comesto, and then ask her for the ring, very polite and civil, and try if Ican't get round her that way."
He was determined that he would never give her up to the gardens whileshe wore his ring; but, in the mean time, he could scarcely leave thestatue standing in the middle of his sitting-room, where it would mostassuredly attract the charwoman's attention.
He had little cupboards on each side of his fireplace: one of these hadno shelves, and served for storing firewood and bottles of variouskinds. From this he removed the contents, and lifting the statue, which,possibly because its substance had been affected in some subtle andinexplicable manner by the vital principle that had so lately permeatedit, proved less ponderous than might have been reasonably expected, hepushed it well into the recess, and turned the key on it.
Then he went trembling to bed, and, after an interval of muddled,anxious thinking, fell into a heavy sleep, which lasted until far intothe morning.
He woke with the recollection that something unpleasant was hanging overhim, and by degrees he remembered what that something was; but it lookedso extravagant in the morning light that he had great hopes all wouldturn out to be a mere dream.
It was a mild Sunday morning, and there were church bells ringing allaround him; it seemed impossible that he could really be harbouring ananimated antique. But to remove all doubt, he stole down, half dressed,to his small sitting-room, which he found looking as usual--the fireburning dull and dusty in the sunlight that struck in through the openwindow, and his breakfast laid out on the table.
Almost reassured, he went to the cupboard and unlocked the door. Alas!it held its skeleton--the statue was there, preserving the attitude ofqueenly command in which he had seen it first. Sharply he shut the dooragain, and turned the key with a heavy heart.
He swallowed his breakfast with very little appetite, after which hefelt he could not remain in the house. "To sit here with _that_ in thecupboard is more than I'm equal to all Sunday," he decided.
If Matilda had been at his aunt's, with whom she lodged, he would havegone to chapel with her; but Matilda did not return from her holidaytill late that night. He thought of going to his friend and asking hisadvice on his case. James, as a barrister's clerk, would presumably beable to give a sound legal opinion on an emergency.
James, however, lived "out Camden Town way," and was certain on so finea morning to be away on some Sunday expedition with his betrothed: itwas hopeless to go in search of him now. If he went to see his aunt, wholived close by in Millman Street, she might ask him about the ring, andthere would be a fuss. He was in no humour for attending any place ofpublic worship, and so he spent some hours in aimless wandering aboutthe streets, which, as foreigners are fond of reminding us, are notexhilarating even on the brightest Sabbath, and did not raise hisspirits then.
At last hunger drove him back to the passage in Southampton Row, themore quickly as it began to occur to him that the statue might possiblyhave revived, and be creating a disturbance in the cupboard.
He had passed the narrow posts, and was just taking out his latchkey,when some one behind touched his shoulder and made him give a guiltyjump. He dreaded to find the goddess at his elbow; however, to hisrelief, he found a male stranger, plainly and respectably dressed.
"You Mr. Tweddle the hairdresser?" the stranger inquired.
Leander felt a wild impulse to deny it, and declare that he was his ownfriend, and had come to see himself on business, for he was in no socialmood just then; but he ended by admitting that he supposed he was Mr.Tweddle.
"So did I. Well, I want a little private talk with you, Mr. Tweddle.I've been hanging about for some time; but though I knocked and rang, Icouldn't make a soul hear."
"There isn't a soul inside," protested Tweddle, with unnecessary warmth;"not a solitary soul! You wanted to talk with me. Suppose we take a turnround the square?"
"No, no. I won't keep you out; I'll come in with you!"
Inwardly wondering what his visitor wanted, Leander led him in and litthe gas in his hair-cutting saloon. "We shall be cosier here," he said;for he dared not take the stranger up in the room where the statue wasconcealed, for fear of accidents.
The man sat down in the operating-chair and crossed his legs. "I daresay you're wondering what I've come about like this on a Sundayafternoon?" he began.
"Not at all," said Leander. "Anything I can have the pleasure of doingfor you----"
"It's only to answer a few questions. I understand you lost a ring atthe Rosherwich Gardens yesterday evening: that's so, isn't it?"
He was a military looking person, as Leander now perceived, and he had aclose-trimmed iron-grey beard, a high
"I--I dropped a ring last night, certainly," he said; "it may have beenin the gardens, for what I know."
"Now, now," said the stranger, "don't you _know_ it was in the gardens?Tell me all about it."
"Begging your pardon," said Leander, "I should like to know first whatcall you have to _be_ told."
"You're quite right--perfectly right. I always deal straightforwardlywhen I can. I'll tell you who I am. I'm Inspector Bilbow, of theCriminal Investigation Department, Scotland Yard. Now, perhaps, you'llsee I'm not a man to be kept in the dark. And I want you to tell me whenand where you last saw that ring of yours: it's to your own interest, ifyou want to see it again."
But Leander _had_ seen it again, and it seemed certain that all ScotlandYard could not assist him in getting it back; he must manage itsingle-handed.
"It's very kind of you, Mr. Inspector, to try and find it for me," hesaid; "but the fact is, it--it ain't so valuable as I fancied. I can'tafford to have it traced--it's not worth it!"
The inspector laughed. "I never said it was, that I know. The job I'm incharge of is a bigger concern than your trumpery ring, my friend."
"Then I don't see what I've got to do with it," said Leander.
The officer had taken his measure by this time; he must admit his maninto a show of confidence, and appeal to his vanity, if he was to obtainany information he could rely upon.
"You're a shrewd chap, I see; 'nothing for nothing' is your motto, eh?Well, if you help me in this, and put me on the track I want, it'll be afine thing for you. You'll be a principal witness at the police-court;name in the papers; regular advertisement for you!"
This prospect, had he known it--but even inspectors cannot knoweverything--was the last which could appeal to Leander in his peculiarposition. "I don't care for notoriety," he said loftily; "I scorn it."
"Oho!" said the inspector, shifting his ground. "Well, you don't want toimpede the course of justice, do you?--because that's what you seem tome to be after, and you won't find it pay in the long run. I'll get thisout of you in a friendly way if I can; if not, some other way. Come,give me your account, fair and full, of how you came to lose that ring;there's no help for it--you must!"
Leander saw this and yielded. After all, it did not much matter, for ofcourse he would not touch upon the strange sequel of his ill-omened act;so he told the story faithfully and circumstantially, while theinspector took it all down in his note-book, questioning him closelyrespecting the exact time of each occurrence.
At last he closed his note-book with a snap. "I'm not obliged to tellyou anything in return for all this," he said; "but I will, and thenyou'll see the importance of holding your tongue till I give you leaveto talk about it."
"_I_ shan't talk about it," said Leander.
"I don't advise you to. I suppose you've heard of that affair atWricklesmarsh Court? What! not that business where a gang broke into thesculpture gallery, one of the finest private collections in England? Yousurprise me!"
"And what did they steal?" asked Leander.
"They stole the figure whose finger you were ass enough (if you'll allowme the little familiarity) to put your ring on. What do you think ofthat?"
A wild rush of ideas coursed through the hairdresser's head. Was thispoliceman "after" the goddess upstairs? Did he know anything more? Wouldit be better to give up the statue at once and get rid of it? Butthen--his ring would be lost for ever!
"It's surprising," he said at last. "But what did they want to go andburgle a plaster figure for?"
"That's where it is, you see; she ain't plaster--she's marble, a genuineantic of Venus, and worth thousands. The beggars who broke in knew that,and took nothing else. They'd made all arrangements to get away with herabroad, and pass her off on some foreign collection before it got blownupon; and they'd have done it too if we hadn't been beforehand withthem! So what do they do then? They drive up with her to these gardens,ask to see the manager, and say they're agents for some Fine Artsbusiness, and have a sample with them, to be disposed of at a low price.The manager, so he tells me, had a look at it, thought it a neat articleand suitable to the style of his gardens. He took it to be plainplaster, as they said, and they put it up for him their own selves,near the small gate up by the road; then they took the money--a pound ortwo they asked for it--and drove away, and he saw no more of them."
"And was that all they got for their pains?" said Leander.
The inspector smiled indulgently. "Don't you see your way yet?" heasked. "Can't you give a guess where that statue's got to now, eh?"
"No," said Leander, with what seemed to the inspector a quiteuncalled-for excitement, "of course I can't! What do you ask me for? Howshould I know?"
"Quite so," said the other; "you want a mind trained to deal with thesethings. It may surprise you to hear it, but I know as well how thatstatue disappeared, and what was done with her, as if I'd been there!"
"Do you, though?" thought Leander, who was beginning to doubt whetherhis visitor's penetration was anything so abnormal. "What was done withher?" he asked.
"Why, it was a plant from the first. They knew all their regular holeswere stopped, and they wanted a place to dump her down in, where shewouldn't attract attention, till they could call for her again; so theygot her taken in at the gardens, where they could come in any time bythe gate and fetch her off again--and very neatly it was done, too!"
"But where do you make out they've taken her to now?" asked Leander, whowas naturally anxious to discover if the official had any suspicions ofhim.
"I've my own theory about that," was his answer. "I shall hunt thatVenus down, sir; I'll stake my reputation on it."
"Venus is her name, it seems," thought Leander. "She told me it wasAphrodite. But perhaps the other's her Christian name. It can't be theVenus I've seen pictures of--she's dressed too decent."
"Yes," repeated the inspector, "I shall hunt her down now. I don't envythe poor devil who's giving her house-room; he'll have reason to repentit!"
"How do you know any one's giving her house-room?" inquired Leander;"and why should he repent it?"
"Ask your own common sense. They daren't take her back to any of theirown places; they know better. They haven't left the country with her.What remains? They've bribed or got over some mug of an outsider to betheir accomplice, and a bad speculation he'll find it, too."
"What would be done to him?" asked the hairdresser, with a quiteunpleasant internal sensation.
"WHAT WOULD BE DONE TO HIM?" ASKED THE HAIRDRESSER, WITHA QUITE UNPLEASANT INTERNAL SENSATION.]
"That is a question I wouldn't pretend to decide; but I've no hesitationin saying that the party on whose premises that statue is discoveredwill wish he'd died before he ever set eyes on her."
"You're quite right there!" said Leander. "Well, sir, I'm afraid Ihaven't been much assistance to you."
"Never mind that," said the inspector, encouragingly; "you've answeredmy questions; you've not hindered the law, and that's a game some burntheir fingers at."
Leander let him out, and returned to his saloon with his head in a worsewhirl than before. He did not think the detective suspected him. He wasclearly barking up the wrong tree at present; but so acute a mind couldnot be long deceived, and if once Leander was implicated his guilt wouldappear beyond denial. Would the police believe that the statue had runafter him? No one would believe it! To be found in possession of thatfatal work of art would inevitably ruin him.
He might carry her away to some lonely spot and leave her, but where wasthe use? She would only come back again; or he might be taken in theact. He dared not destroy her; his right arm had been painful all dayafter that last attempt.
If he gave her up to the authorities, he would have to explain how hecame to be in a positio
"Cuss her!" he said angrily; "a pretty bog she's led me into, she andthat minx, Ada Parkinson!"
He felt so thoroughly miserable that hunger had vanished, and he dreadedthe idea of an evening at home, though it was a blusterous night, withoccasional vicious spirts of rain, and by no means favourable tocontinued pacing of streets and squares.
"I'm hanged if I don't think I'll go to church!" he thought; "andperhaps I shall feel more equal to supper afterwards."
He went upstairs to get his best hat and overcoat, and was engaged inbrushing the former in his sitting-room, when from within the cupboardhe heard a shower of loud raps.
His knees trembled. "She's wuss than any ghost!" he thought; but he tookno notice, and went on brushing his hat, while he endeavoured to hum ahymn.
"Leander!" cried the clear, hard voice he knew too well, "I havereturned. Release me!"
His first idea was to run out of the house and seek sanctuary in somepew in the opposite church. "But there," he thought disgustedly, "she'donly come in and sit next to me. No, I'll pluck up a spirit and have itout with her!" and he threw open the door.
"How have you dared to imprison me in this narrow tomb?" she demandedmajestically, as she stepped forth.
Leander cringed. "It's a nice roomy cupboard," he said. "I thoughtperhaps you wouldn't mind putting up with it, especially as you invitedyourself," he could not help adding.
"When I found myself awake and in utter darkness," she said, "I thoughtyou had buried me beneath the soil."
"Buried you!" he exclaimed, with a sudden perception that he might doworse.
"And in that thought I was preparing to invoke the forces that lie belowthe soil to come to my aid, burst the masses that impeded me, andoverwhelm you and all this ugly swarming city in one vast ruin!"
"I won't bury her," Leander decided. "I'm sorry you hadn't a betteropinion of me, mum," he said aloud. "You see, how you came to be inthere was this way: when you went out, like the snuff of a candle, so tospeak, you left your statue standing in the middle of the floor, and Ihad to put it somewhere where it wouldn't be seen."
"You did well," she said indulgently, "to screen my image from thevulgar sight; and if you had no statelier shrine wherein to instal it,the fault lies not with you. You are pardoned."
"Thank you, mum," said Leander; "and now let me ask you if you intend toanimate that statue like this as a regular thing?"
"So long as your obstinacy continues, or until it outlives myforbearance, I shall return at intervals," she said. "Why do you askthis?"
"Well," said Leander, with a sinking heart, but hoping desperately tomove her by the terrors of the law, "it's my duty to tell you that thatimage you're in is stolen property."
"Has it been stolen from one of my temples?" she asked.
"I dare say--I don't know; but there's the police moving heaven andearth to get you back again!"
"He is good and pious--the police, and if I knew him I would rewardhim."
"There's a good many hims in the police--that's what we call our guardsfor the street, who take up thieves and bad characters; and, beingstolen, they're all of 'em after _you_; and if they had a notion whereyou were, they'd be down on you, and back you'd go to wherever you'vecome from--some gallery, I believe, where you wouldn't get away again ina hurry! Now, I tell you what it is, if you don't give me up that ring,and go away and leave me in quiet, I'll tell the police who you are andwhere you are. I mean what I say, by George I do!"
"We know not George, nor will it profit you to invoke him now," said thegoddess. "See, I will deign to reason with you as with some frowardchild. Think you that, should the guards seize my image, _I_ shouldremain within, or that it is aught to me where this marble presentmentfinds a resting-place while I am absent therefrom? But for you, shouldyou surrender it into their hands, would there be no punishment for yourimpiety in thus concealing a divine effigy?"
"She ain't no fool!" thought Leander; "she mayn't understand our ways,but she's a match for me notwithstanding. I must try another line."
"Lady Venus," he began, "if that's the proper way to call you, I didn'tmean any threats--far from it. I'll be as humble as you please. You looka good-natured lady; you wouldn't want to make a man uncomfortable, I'msure. Do give me back that ring, for mercy's sake! If I haven't got itto show in a day or two, I shall be ruined!"
"Should any mortal require the ring of you, you have but to reply, 'Ihave placed it upon the finger of Aphrodite, whose spouse I am!' Thuswill you have honour amongst mortals, being held blameless!"
"Blameless!" cried Leander, in pardonable exasperation. "That's all youknow about it! And what am I to say to the lady it lawfully belongs to?"
"You have lied to me, then, and you are already affianced! Tell me theabode of this maiden of yours."
"What do you want it for?" he inquired, hoping faintly she might intendto restore the ring.
"To seek it out, to go to her abode, to crush her! Is she not my rival?"
"Crush my Matilda?" he cried in agony. "You'll never do such a thing asthat?"
"You have revealed her name! I have but to ask in your streets, 'Whereabideth Matilda, the beloved of Leander, the dresser of hair? Lead me toher dwelling.' And having arrived thereat, I shall crush her, and thusshe shall deservedly perish!"
He was horrified at the possible effects of his slip, which he hastenedto repair. "You won't find it so easy to come at her, luckily," he said;"there's hundreds of Matildas in London alone."
"Then," said the goddess, sweetly and calmly, "it is simple: I shallcrash them all."
"Oh, lor!" whimpered Leander, "here's a bloodthirsty person! Where's thesense of doing that?"
"Because, dissipated reveller that you are, you love them."
"Now, when did I ever say I loved them? I don't even know more than twoor three, and those I look on as sisters--in fact" (here he hit upon alucky evasion) "they _are_ sisters--it's only another name for them.I've a brother and three Matildas, and here are you talking of crushingmy poor sisters as if they were so many beadles--all for nothing!"
"Is this the truth? Palter not with me! You are pledged to no mortalbride?"
"I'm a bachelor. And as for the ring, it belongs to my aunt, who's overfifty."
"Then no one stands between us, and you are mine!"
"Don't talk so ridiculous! I tell you I ain't yours--it's a freecountry, this is!"
"If I--an immortal--can stoop thus, it becomes you not to reject thedazzling favour."
A last argument occurred to him. "But I reelly don't think, mum," hesaid persuasively, "that you can be quite aware of the extent of thestoop. The fact is, I am, as I've tried to make you understand, ahairdresser; some might lower themselves so far as to call me a barber.Now, hairdressing, whatever may be said for it" (he could not readilybring himself to decry his profession)--"hairdressing is considriblybelow you in social rank. I wouldn't deceive you by saying otherwise. Iassure you that, if you had any ideer what a barber was, you wouldn't beso pressing."
She seemed to be struck by this. "You say well!" she observed,thoughtfully; "your occupation may be base and degrading, and if so, itwere well for me to know it."
"If you were once to see me in my daily avocations," he urged, "you'dsee what a mistake you're making."
"Enough! I will see you--and at once. Barb, that I may know the natureof your toil!"
"I can't do that now," he objected; "I haven't got a customer."
"Then fetch one, and barb with it immediately. You must have your toolsby you; so delay not!"
"A customer ain't a tool!" he groaned, "it's a fellow-man; and no onewill come in to-night, because it's Sunday. (Don't ask me what Sundayis, because you wouldn't understand if I tried to tell you!) And I don'tcarry on my business
"I will go thither and behold you."
"No!" he exclaimed. "Do you want to ruin me?"
"I will make no sign; none shall recognise me for what I am. But come Iwill!"
Leander pondered awhile. There was danger in introducing the goddessinto his saloon; he had no idea what she might do there. But at the sametime, if she were bent upon coming, she would probably do so in anycase; and besides, he felt tolerably certain that what she would seewould convince her of his utter unsuitability as a consort.
Yes, it was surely wisest to assist necessity, and obtain the mostfavourable conditions for the inevitable experiment.
"I might put you in a corner of the operating-room, to be sure," he saidthoughtfully. "No one would think but what you was part of the fittings,unless you went moving about."
"Place me where I may behold you at your labour, and there I willremain," she said.
"Well," he conceded, "I'll risk it. The best way would be for you towalk down to the saloon, and leave yourself ready in a corner till youcome to again. I can't carry a heavy marble image all that way!"
"So be it," said she, and followed him to the saloon with a prouddocility.
"It's nicely got up," he remarked, as they reached it; "and you'll findit roomier than the cupboard."
She deigned no answer as she remained motionless in the corner he hadindicated; and presently, as he held up the candle he was carrying, hefound its rays were shining upon a senseless stone.
He went upstairs again, half fearful, half sanguine. "I don't altogetherlike it," he was thinking. "But if I put a print wrapper over her allday, no one will notice. And goddesses must have their proper pride. Ifshe once gets it into her marble head that I keep a shop, I think thatshe'll turn up her nose at me. And then she'll give back the ring and goaway, and I shan't be afraid of the police; and I needn't tell Tillieanything about it. It's worth risking."