Chapter 5
The dawn came and went, bringing the sunlight, but silence did not come at Longbourn all night or in the morning after the ball, and not one of the Bennets was able to retire to rest. Once at home, the family remained in the drawing-room, continuing to discuss the terrible subject.
The news of Wickham’s sudden, and possibly violent, death became a personal tragedy for the youngest sisters as well as for their wailing mother.
For two of the three eldest ones, it was mostly the sadness of such a swift and brutal passing of a young man of their acquaintance.
The remaining sister felt mostly shock, the rest of her emotions and thoughts in a whirlwind she had not yet been able to analyse.
Even Mr Bennet — to whom Wickham was basically a stranger — felt regret for such a waste of life.
Mr Collins was the only one who slept until noon, and he woke up with the desire of expressing his opinion on the matter and to comfort the family with appropriate words of knowledge and sensible sermons, but his attempts and overtures were readily and firmly rejected.
Steady to his purpose, and feeling rather neglected, he requested a private meeting with Elizabeth, but she declared she was too disquieted for any conversation, and Mrs Bennet’s weak attempt to convince her to listen to whatever Mr Collins should have to tell her failed.
Therefore, Mr Collins, feeling offended and rather ill-used, chose to pay a call on Sir William, at Lucas Lodge — the only place in Meryton where he felt properly appreciated.
After luncheon, Mrs Phillips and Mrs Long came to call.
Mrs Bennet offered them tea, but all three of them were mostly thirsty for sharing news and speculating over the most dreadful event their small town had ever encountered.
At the same time, Lydia and Kitty hurried to Meryton to call on Mrs Harriet Forster — where the real source of news lay.
While everyone around her mourned loudly, Elizabeth could not deny she was sad too.
The last thing she wished for was to see Wickham hurt in any way, and while she knew his true nature was not by far as praiseworthy as the others still believed, his youth and potential future were a painful loss.
While she spent most of the day with her father and Jane, she still did not confess to either of them her knowledge about the secret encounter.
And in truth, perhaps it was best that it remain unsaid.
Of what use could it be to reveal to anyone the deceitful appearance of goodness and the young man’s flaws of character?
There were things that, at certain times, were best left unspoken.
***
The day after the ball passed with plenty of drama at Netherfield too.
The sisters continued their complaints regarding the delayed departure, which affected and worried them much more than the passing of an unknown officer.
Darcy’s sadness was deeper than he expected.
His past dealings with Wickham, his old conflicts with him, and especially his attempt to elope with Georgiana, had made him think in the heat of anger that he wished the man dead.
His cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam had often suggested — half in jest — that it would be less expensive to hire someone to murder Wickham.
But it was only idle talk that now Darcy regretted while facing the painful reality.
He was surprised at his own anguish, although maybe he should not be, in view of the length of Wickham’s history with the Darcy family.
The death of his childhood companion felt like a line had been drawn to end his past life.
“I think I would like to call on Colonel Forster,” Bingley said restlessly around noon. “What say you, Darcy? Will you join me? To see if he has some news?”
“I will. I am curious to know more, too. I would have accompanied you, regardless, as there is little else I can do here.” He would have done anything to avoid spending more time with Bingley’s sisters, but that he could not admit aloud.
Darcy had just sent an express to his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam, asking him to convey the news to the family and especially to Georgiana.
His sister’s reaction worried Darcy greatly, but he did not feel he was master enough of his emotions to write to her himself.
She would likely be very distressed and grieve from all the genuine affection of her kind heart.
Just as Elizabeth was grieving too — he was certain of that.
As they rode through Meryton, it became apparent that the news had affected the entire town as a general tension could be felt on the streets which were animated with people despite the very cold weather.
Colonel Forster received them, unsurprisingly, with less enthusiasm than before. Two other officers were with him, but they left the room at the gentlemen’s entrance.
“Colonel, thank you for receiving us. We do not want to bother you,” Bingley declared. “We only called to enquire whether you have any news about this tragedy and if we may help in any way.”
“You are always welcome, Mr Bingley, Mr Darcy. Unfortunately, we have no other revelations yet, except that the burial service is being prepared. We are waiting for the coroner to finish his examination and render his report.”
“It is a very strange occurrence. Strange and sad,” Bingley added.
“Indeed,” the colonel said. “Mr Darcy, I am relieved to see you, sir, as I would have called on you anyway. Since it appears you were Mr Wickham’s oldest acquaintance, do you happen to know if he has any family left?
Any relatives or friends we should inform of his tragic passing and to whom we may release his belongings? ”
“His parents passed away many years ago, and, to my knowledge, he has no brothers or sisters and no remaining close family,” Darcy replied. “In regard to his friends, our relationship has been rather distant in the last five years, so I am unaware of his present connections.”
“I see… It is sad, I have to say. We realise we knew very little, if any, of his life before he joined the regiment. We are looking for clues to understand what happened to him.”
“It is sad,” Bingley admitted. “I am sure something will be discovered soon. Do you still have cause to suspect anything but an accident?”
“We have no inkling as to what happened since he was last seen three days ago. He played cards with the other officers and retired for the night. He mentioned nothing except that he had a meeting in the morning.”
“Is there no indication whom he met with? And he has not been seen since then?” Bingley asked, intrigued.
“No,” the colonel answered. We found a note in his pocket, probably a reply to another letter. It only said, ‘I shall meet you there tomorrow morning’. But no name, no signature, no indication of a date or anything.”
“Well, this sounds quite intriguing!” Bingley exclaimed. “If you discover who sent the note you might find out what happened to him.”
“I wrote the note,” Darcy suddenly interjected, and both men turned to look at him with twin expressions of shock. He explained further, while absently removing his glove and stroking his right hand that was still hurting. His gesture immediately drew the colonel’s eye and aroused his curiosity.
“Wickham asked me for a private encounter. There were things that he wished to discuss, he said… He asked me to come to Oakham Mount, early in the morning. I found his request rather strange because, despite our past disagreements, we could have carried out a reasonable conversation in a more accessible place. But I eventually accepted.”
Bingley was baffled, while the colonel’s countenance became sceptical.
“May I ask what the subject of this unexpected conversation was, sir?” the colonel enquired with apparent discomfort. “I do not wish to intrude, but you must understand you could be one of the last people who saw him alive so any detail might be helpful.”
“You may ask, but my answer would be unflattering to Wickham’s memory,” Darcy responded. “However, I assure you it was an old subject with no connection to this tragedy.”
The colonel’s concern and his state of agitation seemed to increase.
“And…do you happen to know where he went after your meeting? Did he leave first or did you?”
“He left. He mentioned he would return to the regiment and I indeed saw him depart in the direction of Meryton. At that time, I had no interest in asking for details, so I hope you will believe me that I have no further knowledge on this subject.”
“I have no reason to mistrust your statement, Mr Darcy. However, the magistrate will arrive today, and I must share this piece of knowledge with him. And he might wish to speak to you, too. I hope you do not mind.”
“Of course not,” Darcy answered readily. “I would be glad to help in any way I can.”
“Thank you, sir. You must rest assured that I shall keep this information confidential from everyone except the magistrate.”
“You must do only what is useful for your investigation, Colonel. For my part, I have nothing to hide. My only reluctance in speaking more of my past with Wickham comes from the desire not to besmirch his memory in front of his new friends. I see no use for that, in the present circumstances. But I do have pieces of evidence to prove whatever I might have to disclose.”
“I see… Very well, sir,” the colonel concluded. Then he added with some hesitation, “Your hand looks to be giving you pain, Mr Darcy. You should seek Mr Jones’s advice.”
“I already have, thank you. It is nothing to be concerned about,” Darcy answered.
“Well then, we shall leave you now, Colonel,” Bingley ended their visit. “I hope things will be clarified soon. We thank you for your time and apologise for intruding.”
“We all hope to clarify things soon, Mr Bingley. Your visit was no intrusion, I assure you. Quite the opposite!” the colonel declared while escorting them to the door.