A few raindrops got in
before I slammed the door shut. I took off my hat.‘You wanted to see me, Clark?’
‘Indeed, I did,’ said he. He sat motionless in his chair, staring vacantly into the fireplace, his back to me. ‘Come hither.’
Quickly, I removed my coat and placed it gently on the hook. Hearing my approaching footsteps, he continued.
‘Billy, I summoned you here with a purpose most sincere,’ his voice was grave. ‘I am in need of your sharp and unwavering judgement. Will you lend me your guidance?’
He leaned forward and turned his head to face me. His expression was more worn out than ever before.
‘Well?’
‘I will,’ I replied.
Relief flashed in his eyes briefly. He moved to drink, and only then did I notice a cup resting in his hand. My gaze traced the origin of the drink – and there it stood: a half-empty bottle of whiskey upon a small mahogany table set beside his chair.
‘Edward, I must confess I do not quite grasp your intentions. What is the matter?’
‘Billy, my friend, not long since, I came into knowledge of something that has haunted my thoughts for years. Two days ago, in the town, I heard a lad gossip with his companion about some Mr Heatherfield who had run off with a rich man’s wife in the summer of 18--. This was no coincidental story, I assure you. The name sounded familiar to me. I was convinced the boy was talking about what had happened to me.’
He took a sip and looked at the fire. The whole room was decorated with dancing shadows, quiet, as though it was listening solemnly.
‘Being obliged to find out more,’ he subjoined, ‘I approached the lads with an intention to inquire of this Mr Heatherfield: his first name, his occupation, his current whereabouts. They asked me what I had to do with the villain. Having introduced myself to them, I repeated my question, and they did at last reveal a truth: the man was coming back to town this week to check on his property.’
‘What else did they tell you?’
‘Henry Heatherfield is his name. After his father’s death last year, he inherited an estate, Wilmoth Grange, three miles from this place.’
‘Pray tell, what do you mean to do about him?’
‘I shall do what any honourable husband must, when his name and standing are injured – I am to avenge the insult. How dare he humiliate me so! Seduce my Charlotte! Son of a dog!’
Drunkenly, he struck the table with his fist. Fear crawled up my spine. Avenge was the last word I wanted to hear him say. I wondered what his scheme was.
‘Billy, you must help me! I have a plan already! All I ask is that you help me polish it; and if you would be so kind as to assist me in its execution, I would be grateful beyond measure. In three days, Heatherfield will depart from his room in the town centre and head towards the Grange. The path lies through fields and marshland. He must have already informed the servants of his coming, so we must wait for his leaving in the evening. No townsman will question his absence; they will presume he set off sooner than expected. We will catch him and bind him – perhaps compel him to speak of my wife and their elopement – and then, I shall put an end to him.’
His nails sank into the sides of the chair. With a grin, he looked at me.
‘When he is no more, we will cast his body into the marsh, off the road – no soul will think to seek him there.’
‘Edward, please, don’t do this!’ I begged him. ‘And don’t make me aid you. This is a stupid deed, a sinful one. It will haunt you for the rest of your days. Mrs Clark will not return, and she will know who is to blame for her lover’s disappearance. And the fellows you spoke with are witnesses as well.’
‘She is no Mrs Clark!’ he growled. ‘That bitch has no right to carry my name!’ He got up, his pupils full of raw ire, his brows furrowed.
‘In Heaven’s name, do not set foot on such a path! You shall not omit accusations. And if, by some chance, you do, you will not escape the eye of God. Let Him judge Heatherfield Himself. Think of this!’ I felt impatience rise in me.
‘Do not bring up God in my presence! I am not to associate myself with Him, nor shall I submit to His laws. I say the man must die. That will be justice.’
‘Don’t be a fool, Edward,’ I sighed, my voice thick with disappointment.
‘You do not understand my desperation, Drywood,’ he hissed, beginning to pace back and forth. ‘You never do.’
‘Very well, then. I shall not help you. I won’t linger – I promised to be home by midnight.’ I turned around and headed towards the hook where my hat and coat hung.
‘Just wait until some lad steals your wife as well,’ he muttered. ‘I should advise you not to let her venture into town without supervision.’
‘I shall govern my household with my own judgement,’ I said, putting on my coat.
Suddenly, with a kind of restless urgency, he cut the distance between us.
‘You will not tell anyone, will you, Billy?’ he asked, his voice uneasy.
I paused.
‘Unless one inquires, I will not utter a word.’
‘Thank you, thank you, my friend.’ He clasped my hand. I withdrew it abruptly and reached for my hat.
‘Goodnight, Edward. Be well,’ I said, and stepped into the rain.
The Devil has got the best of him. I could not save him now.
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