Demos | Page 6

other nervously. 'You know
how absurdly shy I am. No, I'll run out into the garden behind; then I
can steal round as soon as he comes in.'
She escaped, and in a minute or two the new vicar presented himself at
the door. A little maid might well have some apprehension in facing
him, for Mr. Wyvern was of vast proportions and leonine in aspect.
With the exception of one ungloved hand and the scant proportions of
his face which were not hidden by hair, he was wholly black in hue; an
enormous beard, the colour of jet, concealed the linen about his throat,
and a veritable mane, dark as night, fell upon his shoulders. His
features were not ill-matched with this sable garniture; their expression
was a fixed severity; his eye regarded you with stern scrutiny, and
passed from the examination to a melancholy reflectiveness. Yet his
appearance was suggestive of anything but ill-nature; contradictory

though it may seem, the face was a pleasant one, inviting to confidence,
to respect; if be could only have smiled, the tender humanity which
lurked in the lines of his countenance would have become evident. His
age was probably a little short of fifty.
A servant replied to his knock, and, after falling back in a momentary
alarm, introduced him to the sitting-room. He took Mrs. Waltham's
hand silently, fixed upon her the full orbs of his dark eyes, and then,
whilst still retaining her fingers, looked thoughtfully about the room. It
was a pleasant little parlour, with many an evidence of refinement in
those who occupied it. Mr. Wyvern showed something like a look of
satisfaction. He seated himself, and the chair creaked ominously
beneath him. Then he again scrutinised Mrs. Waltham.
She was a lady of fair complexion, with a double chin. Her dress
suggested elegant tastes, and her hand was as smooth and delicate as a
lady's should be. A long gold chain descended from her neck to the
watch-pocket at her waist, and her fingers exhibited several rings. She
bore the reverend gentleman's scrutiny with modest grace. almost as if
it flattered her. And indeed there was nothing whatever of ill-breeding
in Mr. Wyvern's mode of instituting acquaintance with his parishioner;
one felt that he was a man of pronounced originality, and that he might
be trusted in his variance from the wonted modes.
The view from the windows gave him a subject for his first remarks.
Mrs. Waltham had been in some fear of a question which would go to
the roots of her soul's history; it would have been in keeping with his
visage. But, with native acuteness, she soon discovered that Mr.
Wyvern's gaze had very little to do with the immediate subject of his
thought, or, what was much the same thing, that he seldom gave the
whole of his attention to the matter outwardly calling for it. He was a
man of profound mental absences; he could make replies, even put
queries, and all the while be brooding intensely upon a wholly different
subject. Mrs. Waltham did not altogether relish it; she was in the habit
of being heard with deference; but, to be sure, a clergyman only talked
of worldly things by way of concession. It certainly seemed so in this
clergyman's case.
'Your prospect,' Mr. Wyvern remarked presently, 'will not be improved
by the works below.'
His voice was very deep, and all his words were weighed in the

utterance. This deliberation at times led to peculiarities of emphasis in
single words. Probably he was a man of philological crotchets; he said,
for instance, 'pro-spect.'
'I scarcely think Mr. Eldon will go on with the mining,' replied Mrs.
Waltham.
'Ah! you think not?'
'I am quite sure he said that unconsciously,' the lady remarked to
herself. 'He's thinking of some quite different affair.'
'Mr. Eldon,' the clergyman resumed, fixing upon her an absent eye, 'is
Mr. Mutimer's son-in-law, I understand?'
'His brother, Mr. Godfrey Eldon, was.' Mrs. Waltham corrected.
'Ah! the one that died?'
He said it questioningly; then added--
'I have a difficulty in mastering details of this kind. You would do me a
great kindness in explaining to me briefly of whom the family at the
Manor at present consists?'
Mrs. Waltham was delighted to talk on such a subject.
'Only of Mrs. Eldon and her son, Mr. Hubert Eldon. The elder son,
Godfrey, was lost in a shipwreck, on a voyage to New Zealand.'
'He was a sailor?'
'Oh, no!' said the lady, with a smile. 'He was in business at Belwick. It
was shortly after his marriage with Miss Mutimer that he took the
voyage--partly for his health, partly to examine some property his
father had had an interest in. Old Mr. Eldon engaged in speculations--I
believe it was