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Updated: May 24, 2025
Oh, she was so glad so glad to get away entirely, to get away forever from the hold of sin, that Castle Cragg, where she had been buried alive so long; where she had lived in torment among lost spirits; where the monotony had been like the gloom of the grave, and the guilt like the corruption of death!
"I do not know myself, papa. Oh, sir, I never fully realized my life at Castle Cragg until I got away from it and could look back on it from a distance. For the trouble then grew around me gradually; slowly astonishing me, if you can conceive of such a thing; benumbing my heart; stupefying my brain; deadening my sensibilities; else I could not have endured it so quietly.
And here was Jeremy, at this gay hour, a trolling up the High Street all by himself he lifted his head, pushed out his chest, and looked the world in the face. He might meet the Dean's Ernest at any moment. The first people whom he saw were the Misses Cragg always known, of course, as "The Cragg girls." They were, perhaps, Polchester's most constant and obvious feature.
Todlaw Mill, in ruins long ago, was his favourite haunt, and there, as the decent folk of the valley went on the Sabbath to the meeting-house at Birdhope Cragg, they often saw him, a dreary sight for human eyes, patiently awaiting his freedom.
"Come, Tom," cried one of the company, "knock 'is 'ead off to begin with." "Ay, set about 'm, Tom cut your gab an' finish 'im," and here came the clatter of chairs as the company rose. "Can't be done," said Cragg, shaking his head, "leastways not 'ere." "I'm not particular," said I, "if you prefer, we might manage it very well in the stable with a couple of lanthorns."
"I like Scraggy better nor I thought I would." "You like what?" "This big jail of a house Scraggy something or other they call it." "Castle Cragg." "Yes, that's it; plague take the outlandish names, I say!" "Now, Katie, unpack my maize-colored moire antique. I must dress for dinner."
Now all at once there recurred to me the memory of Tom Cragg, the Pugilist; of how he too had winked at me, and of his incomprehensible manner afterwards beneath the gibbet on River Hill. "Sir," said I, "do you happen to know a pugilist, Tom Cragg by name?" "Tom Cragg! well, I should think so; who doesn't, sir?"
Strange! but on this night her thoughts, and even her sympathies, were with Lord Vincent in his prison cell. Why should she think of him? Why should she pity him? She had never loved him, never even fancied that she loved him, even in the delusive days of courtship; or in the early days of marriage; and she had despised and shunned him in the miserable days of their estranged life at Castle Cragg.
"I shall set about it at once, Your Grace. I shall not want for help. Have I Your Grace's leave to go?" Monmouth nodded, and as Wade passed out, Ensign Cragg entered to announce Mr. Wilding and Mr. Trenchard. The Duke rose to his feet, his glance suddenly brightening. Fletcher and Grey rose with him; Ferguson paid no heed, absorbed in his task, which he industriously continued.
"Oh, do! do!" replied Claudia. "You must know, then, that a few of my old domestics, who served the late earl and myself while we lived at Castle Cragg, still remain there in the service of the present earl's family, which is always represented at the castle by Lord Vincent. Among them there are two who, it appears, became very much attached to your ladyship.
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