The Ways of Life: Two StoriesOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
The Ways of Life: Two Stories
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Fiction
There is no coroner’s inquest in Scotland, as has been said;
nevertheless there was a careful examination into all the circumstances
of Mr. Dalyell’s death. It was known that he was going to Portobello to
bathe. This he had stated not only to his family, but to the clerks at
the insurance office and other persons whom he had met. One gentleman
appeared who had travelled that little journey with him by the train,
whom he had almost persuaded to join him in his swim, and who parted
with him only at the corner of the road leading down to the sands; the
porter at the station had seen him arrive, had seen the two walk off
together. There was no mystery or concealment about anything he had
done. It was his usual place for bathing, there was nothing
extraordinary about the matter, up to the moment when the clothes were
found on the sands and the man was gone. Every step was traced of his
ordinary career, nor could one suspicious circumstance be found. The
mere fact of the heap of clothing, the money in the pockets, the watch,
all the familiar careless evidences of a day which was to be as any
other day, with no auguries of evil in it, was all there was to account
for his disappearance. But that was pathetically distinct and
unimpeachable. And when after so much delay the body was found--which,
indeed, no one could tell to be Robert Dalyell’s body, but which by
every law of probability might be considered so--the question dropped,
and all the endless talk and speculation to which it had given rise. Of
course there were doubts at first whether it might be suicide. But why,
of all people in the world, should Robert Dalyell drown himself? No
doubt there had been rumours of unfortunate speculations, and possible
pecuniary disaster. But everybody knew now that Pat Wedderburn, a man of
considerable wealth and unlimited credit, had put his means at his
friend’s disposal. It is true that what Mr. Wedderburn had said was that
he was about to do so; but these fine shades are too much to be
preserved when a statement is sent about from mouth to mouth, and all
Edinburgh was persuaded that Mr. Wedderburn’s means made Dalyell’s
position secure--if, indeed, it ever was insecure, with a good estate
behind him, and all his connections. But what a fatality! What a
catastrophe! A man in the prime of life, with a nice wife and delightful
children, a charming place, an excellent position, everything smiling
upon him. That he should be carried away from all that in a moment by
some confounded cramp, some momentary weakness. What a lesson it was! In
the midst of life we are in death. This was what, with many regrets for
Bob D’yell and sorrow for his family, and a great sensation among all
who knew him, Edinburgh said. And then the event was displaced by
another event, and his name was transferred from the papers and
everybody’s mouth to a tablet in Yalton Church, and Robert Dalyell was
as if he had never been.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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