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Nothing more, naturally enough, was heard of the Frenchman at Northanger Abbey, though Frederick twitted Harriette about her certainty that he would return. Officials throughout the county would remain on the alert for a passing Frenchman who might be able to shed more light upon the General’s sudden decease; but as the chance of his being found was now thought so slim, the coroner could see no reason why the case should not be closed. Accordingly he prepared to hand down the final verdict that the General had died of natural causes, and to give permission for the funeral to take place as soon as the family chose.
He had a final private word with the doctor before concluding. “I confess to not being entirely easy in my mind, Lyford,” he said.
“No. I can see that. So often, in my business, cases of this sort have no clear determination. It occurs far more often than the public thinks, and we must take care not to enlighten them, lest we stir up alarm. It really cannot be helped.”
“If I did not know the people involved, I should suspect it to be the fairly common phenomenon of a family member who murders a tyrannous older relation.”
“Certainly I have seen such things, but you cannot think that possible here, can you, Carter?”
“Why not? Captain Tilney was present at the final dinner.”
“I know, but in all the witness accounts, there was no slightest indication of him doing any thing untoward. There is no evidence.”
“He had opportunity, just the same, and probably motive,” the coroner argued. “He steps into one of the most considerable fortunes in the country. And then, there is the younger son.”
“You can’t think of Henry Tilney as a suspect?” the doctor said incredulously.
“With an irascible, overbearing man like General Tilney, the gentlest family members are known to reach a breaking point.”
“Why, man, he was not even at Northanger, but at his parsonage, twenty miles away, the entire time.”
“A short enough distance for him to have slipped home at night, and tampered with the goblet.”
“Oh, come, come. Someone would have seen him, or his horse. And besides, he is a clergyman. His entire character speaks for himself.”
“Some of the most principled people in the world have been driven to desperation by a tyrant.”
“Well, if that is your thinking, why not suspect the naturalist? He might have possessed some poison to kill vermin or predators.”
“He was hundreds of miles off. Now you are being absurd, Lyford.”
“As is this whole discussion.”
“Well, well, I only wanted to consult with you, and free my mind entirely. I am relieved to have your opinion, and I assure you I don’t mean to pursue this line of thought. I shall sign the inquest verdict at once.”
The service was accordingly held on the Tuesday at the Northanger parish church, with a goodly gathering of the General’s rich and important friends and neighbors present, as he was buried amongst all his Tilney forbears in the churchyard.
The visiting mourners remained for the shortest time possible to politeness, after the General was duly committed to the earth. The burial over, they gathered at the Abbey for a rather speedily eaten collation of funeral meats before ordering their carriages and driving away in twos and threes, with no more haste than might be considered decently respectful to the family. Good county relations must be maintained, and no offense taken; but no one had really liked the General very well personally, and the occasional grudging presents and accompanying stream of braggadocio his neighbors had received from him over the years, left very little in the way of warm memories of the man in any one’s mind or heart.
As soon as the last guest was gone, Henry determined on having an audience with his brother before his and Catherine’s own departure. Frederick he was sure preferred to avoid any discussion, and accordingly Henry had to search hither and yon for him, until he found Captain Tilney in the General’s own bedroom, sitting on the velvet-spreaded bed, his boots on a pillow, and young Harriette curled up by his side, en negligee, and entirely at her ease.
“Good heavens, Frederick, I have been looking for you every where,” exclaimed Henry. “What are you doing in our father’s room?”
“I beg you to observe, since you inquire, that it is my room now,” Frederick answered in a tone that could only be called lordly. “This chamber belongs to whoever is master of Northanger, you cannot deny; and that is myself, which you will not deny either.”
“No; certainly not. But our father’s body has scarcely been removed for a matter of hours. Would not common respect, prevent you from taking over his chamber immediately, and putting your boots and your lady upon his cushions?”
“Do not be absurd, Henry. What’s his is mine, and the General is now safely beneath the earth and can have no opinion about what I do with his plaguey fanciful cushions. As to what I do with my pretty girl,” and he nuzzled Harriette openly, “why, my father always had an eye for a good looking woman himself. I remember when he was quite struck with your Catherine.”
“Frederick, that is an observation that is really surpasses all boundaries of taste and decency, not to mention showing no respect for my wife,” began Henry, angrily.
“I do protest that you are being a great bore,” replied Frederick. “Remember that you have no authority over me.”
“I never supposed I had,” said Henry, even more incensed, “but I would remind you that while I may have none as a younger brother, as a minister, I do have a final duty before I leave, to remonstrate about your keeping a young woman at Northanger for purposes of immorality.”
“It’s me who might complain about that, if anyone has the right,” put in Harriette saucily. “Tis none of your business, you are a sour puss for such a young man, upon my word.”
“Frederick, can you not see that this girl is little more than a child? However she may have been thrust upon your notice, you must be aware that you are responsible for her welfare. Has she no home we can return her to?”
“I wouldn’t go back there,” cried Harriette, “for a hundred pounds! My father beat me and was as stingy as a rat; my mother was so worn out she was useless, after having birthed such a litter of girls, and my sisters were all horridly mean and jealous. I’ll never go home, that’s flat, when there are the jolliest good times to be had out in the great world.”
“But, good times or no, you must know that it is not right to live with a man without matrimony, as you are doing,” said Henry earnestly. “Surely your mother, despite her burthens in her own life, taught you that? We all must fear for our immortal souls, as we are told in church.”
“It is against my religion to listen to any preaching,” said Harriette. “It is a dead bore, and I always do the opposite of any thing long nosed old ministers say, I assure you. Not that you are old, and you would be quite a pretty man if you were not so pious.”
“I hope you are not talking seriously now, Harriette, for your own sake. And as for you, Frederick, I know that you are perfectly aware it is a sin to take part in the corruption of a young girl.”
“There; now you’ve had your say, and we’ve been pretty damned patient to listen to it,” said Frederick shortly. “Suppose you take your leave now, brother. Harry and I have things we want to do in this bed, and we are not so dead to decency as to want to do them in your presence.”
“I see there is no use talking to you,” said Henry gravely. “Miss Dubochet, if you feel any access of conscience and wish to seek honorable protection, you may write to me at Woodston and I will come to fetch you at any time.”
“You won’t be hearing from me on any such account, I can promise you that,” she assured him, tossing her head. “And when you do hear of me next, out in the great world, it won’t be as Dubochet – I am resolved I won’t be making my wretched family’s name famous. I shall call myself something else from now on – Wilson. Never mind whose name it is.”
He said nothing, but acknowledged her with a small bow and troubled expression.
“Well, be off then, brother,” ordered Frederick. “When I am finished with my pleasures here, I have business to do. I mean to sack a whole regiment of servants today. My father’s extravagances were absurd. That greenhouse! Damned pine-apples! That high priced gardener goes, instanter.”
“You are the master of Northanger, Frederick,” Henry only confirmed, and left quietly.