CHAPTER XXIX.
Sir John Slingsby returned to Tarningham Park at about the hour of"dark midnight;" but he found both daughter and niece still up toreceive him. That Sir John Slingsby had imbibed a portion of wine moreabundant than most men could carry discreetly was evident from theincreased depth of the rose in his complexion, and from a certainwatery lustre in his eyes; but it must not thence be inferred that thebaronet was even in the least degree drank. How many he had left drunkbehind him matters not to this history; but he himself, though gay asusual, was perfectly sober, quite gentlemanly and at his ease; for hehad not even arrived at that pitch where a consciousness of wine makesone careful of not showing its effects.
"Well, young ladies," he said, seating himself in his armchair for amoment, and sticking his thumb into his white waistcoat, "you havepassed a dull night, I dare say, with the old gentleman out, and thetwo young gentlemen Lord knows where. Well, how are we to wear awayto-morrow?"
"I shall wear away the morning, my dear uncle," said Mary Clifford,who had held long councils with her cousin, "in going to Tarningham;and I will ask you to lend me the carriage for an hour at eighto'clock."
"Certainly, dear Mary," said the baronet; "but Tarningham? what takesyour pretty little self to Tarningham?"
"Why the truth is I want some money," answered Miss Clifford, "I thinkthe bank opens at half-past eight."
"Money in the bank!" cried Sir John Slingsby, "was there ever such agirl? She has money in the bank! Well! take the carriage, Mary, whenyou like, and be back to breakfast at half-past nine, otherwise youshall have cold tea, and not a bit of pasty. Now to bed, to bed; forif people have to go to Tarningham early in the morning, they must goto bed at night."
The breakfast-table was laid, as usual, by nine o'clock in themorning; but before that hour Isabella Slingsby had been down and hadwandered about in the drawing-room and in the library with a nervoussort of unsettledness in her manner, which struck even the servants,who happened to pass. She looked out of almost every window in thehouse which was accessible to her; she gazed down every road thatwound through the park; she scanned every moving figure, that waswithin the range of sight; and she felt every moment a terror of whatthe next would bring, which she had never experienced in life before.She wished that Mary had not left her, that they had sent some one forthe money; and she conjured up difficulties and distresses, obstaclesthat she would not know how to meet, questions of law and form ofwhich she was unaware, to trouble herself and agitate her mind stillmore. At length, with a bold resolution, she rang the bell, andordered the servant, who appeared, to go down to Doctor Miles's, withher compliments, and say she would be glad to see him. The momentafter her father entered the room as gay, as bustling, as jovial asever; his face resplendent with small red veins; his eyes sparklinglike the wine of the night before; his ample stomach rollingunrepressed under an easy waistcoat; and his stout legs and neat footcarrying him about with the light step of one-and-twenty. To havelooked at him one would have thought that there was not such a thingas care or sorrow in the while world, much less in his own house.
"Ah, Bella!" he cried, kissing her, "how have you slept, mylove?--Where's Mary?--not come back? How's your aunt?--pining,pining, eh?--see what comes of a melancholy constitution, too muchbile and twenty years' trial of a puritanical husband! Well, what'so'clock?--five-and-twenty minutes after nine--come along, we'll havebreakfast. Mary shall have a fresh jot of tea when she comes," and inwent Sir John Slingsby to the breakfast-room, ringing the bell as ifhe would have pulled it down the moment he got it.
"Breakfast," he exclaimed, when the butler appeared; "has not thepostbag come?"
"No, Sir John," replied the man.
"Very late," said the baronet; and, marching to the window, he lookedout upon the sunshiny park, with his hands behind him, for want ofbetter occupation.
To poor Isabella Slingsby her father's lively unconsciousness wasterrible; and it was with trembling hands that she made the tea andpoured out the coffee, giving a sharp look round every time the dooropened, as if in expectation of some grim bailiff's face appearing.Such, indeed, would have been the case, had it not been, that good Mr.Bacon had contrived to delay what he could not prevent; and at length,much to the joy and satisfaction of Isabella, the grating sound ofcarriage-wheels was heard from the park. That sound was still distantand indistinct, however, when the butler came in with a very peculiarand significant expression of countenance, saying, "Please, Sir John,there's a man wants to speak with you."
"Well, he must wait," said Sir John Slingsby. "Tell him I am atbreakfast--has not the postbag come yet?"
"Please, Sir John, the man says he must speak with you directly."
"Tell him to go to the devil," said Sir John Slingsby, "and speak withhim;" but the words were scarcely out of his mouth, when the dooropened behind the butler, and not one man, but two appeared.
Isabella's face had been very pale from the first announcement made bythe servant; but Sir John had remained perfectly unconscious till hesaw those two strange faces. They were any thing but pleasant facesin the abstract, for though well washed and shaved there was aruffianly dirt of expression, which no soap could get rid of. Thereare certain professions which stamp themselves upon the outer man inindelible lines. The bailiff--the man who makes his bread or hisfortune by inflicting the most poignant misery the law knows upon hisfellow-creature--the step in society still lower than the hangman--isnever to be mistaken; and Sir John Slingsby recognised at once tieerrand of his intrusive visitors in their aspect. His face became verypale, the red veins turned blue; and he sat at the table withoututtering a word. He well knew that these men's appearance, thoughbad enough in itself, was but the commencement of evils: that thelong-delayed hour was come: that the thin worn line which upheld hiswhole fortunes had snapped, and that he was now to fall into the gulfof ruin which had so long yawned beneath him. Arrested and carriedfrom his house, every creditor would pour in with his claims, everydebt be swelled by law expenses, till nought would be left for him andfor his child, but a prison and a life of labour.
His careless heart sank with the weight suddenly cast upon it; and hisbrain was overpowered with the multitude of thoughts it had resistedtoo long.
But Isabella stepped in like an angel of comfort; her heart rose ashis fell. The moment of terror passed away, and as the foremost of thetwo men laid his hand lightly upon Sir John's shoulder, she whisperedin his ear, "Do not alarm yourself, my dear father. Mary has gone toTarningham for the money. We heard of all this last night, and arequite prepared. She will be here in a moment--I hear the carriagecoming up now."
"At whose suit and for what amount?" demanded Sir John Slingsby,turning to the bailiff. He could say no more, for some moments wererequired to collect his thoughts.
"At Mr. Wittingham's, Sir John," replied the man, "for five thousandthree hundred and forty-two pounds seven and fourpence."
"Then you may tell Mr. Wittingham for me," said Sir John Slingsby,"that he is a d--d shabby, sneaking scoundrel, to do such a thing asthis without giving me some notice."
"Come, come, Sir John," rejoined the bailiff, "you know it is no usetalking--you must come along, you know."
"You are somewhat too quick, Sir," said Isabella, interposing, "if youmean to say the debt must be paid, that is very well. It shall bepaid."
"Ay, Miss; but it must be paid immediately or Sir John must march,"answered the man, screwing his eye at his follower, "gammon is gammon,you know."
"I do not understand what you mean," said Isabella, haughtily, "pray,papa, do not touch him (for Sir John had risen with fury in hiscountenance). The debt shall be paid immediately, as you say."
"And you shall be ducked in the horse-pond for your insolence," addedthe baronet, continuing to the butler, "call in all the men."
"Nay, nay--do not, my dear father!" cried Isabella. "Five thousandthree hundred and forty pounds, you said?" she continued, addressingthe bailiff, "I will bring the money this moment."
"Forty-two, seven, and four," said the man, sullenly, "but there maybe detainers, and as the caption is made, I fancy I cannot--"
"Oh, I'll soon settle that," said Sir John Slingsby, "you see, my goodfellow, there are several windows to this room as well as doors--I donot resist the law--wouldn't resist the law for the world! but as soonas the money is paid, you go out of either windows or doors as youplease; but speedily in either case. Get the money, Bella--call themen here," he added, speaking sharply to the butler, "I see we shallwant them."
Isabella hastened out of the room; for the carriage had just drawn up,and as she entered the vestibule she saw Mary stepping lightly out ofit with a calm smile. "Have you got it?" cried Isabella, in eagerhaste, "they are here already."
"Indeed!" said Mary, sadly, "I am sorry for that; but there was somedifficulty; for at the bank, as the sum was so large, they wantedproof of Captain Hayward's signature, which they did not well know. Icould not tell what to do, and therefore went to Mr. Bacon's who soonsettled the matter."
"Why the writ was taken out by him," cried Isabella.
"Yes, I know," answered her cousin, "but he told me how sorry he wasto be forced by Mr. Wittingham to do it; and explained that it wouldbe much better to pay the money at once in Tarningham, when he wouldgive me a receipt in full, and an order, or something, to these men,so as to stop any thing unpleasant at once; for he thought I shouldget back before they arrived. He said there would be a great objectgained in paying the money at once, so that the receipt might be datedbefore what he called the _caption_."
"And did you do it?" asked Isabella, eagerly; "did you do it, dearestMary?"
"Yes," answered her cousin, half alarmed; "I really believe he is avery honest little man, and he seemed truly distressed al Mr.Wittingham's conduct. He gave me the receipt and the order too, andtook great pains to date them half-past eight, though it was nearlynine. I hope I have not done wrong, Isabella?"
"Oh, dear, no. I dare say it is all quite right," cried Isabella,joyfully; "give them to me, Mary, and let me run back; for I am afraidof what my father calls 'an affair of posts,' between him and thesebailiffs. I left him marvellously pugnacious."
Mary Clifford put into her hand the two papers which she had receivedin Tarningham; and at the same time drew forth a small bundle ofbank-notes, saying, "There is the rest of the twelve thousandpounds--for Heaven's sake, take care of it, Isabella."
Her cousin gazed at the little packet with a gay smile, and thentossing her head with the joy of a light heart relieved from a heavyload, she ran back into the breakfast-room, while Mary went upstairsto lay aside her shawl and bonnet.
At the door of the room where she had left her father, Isabellaresumed a calm and composed air; and entering with a stately step,found five or six men-servants arranged across the end of the chamber,while the two bailiffs stood looking somewhat crest-fallen andapprehensive near Sir John, who, for his part, sat beating a tune onthe breakfast-table with his fingers, and endeavouring to appearunconcerned. A sharp anxious glance at his daughter's face, however,told that all fear was not at an end; but her confident lookre-assured him, and he exclaimed, "Well, Bella, have you brought themoney?"
"Yes," replied Miss Slingsby, and approaching the table, she laid downthe roll of bank-notes, spread them out and began to count--"Onethousand, two thousand, three, four, five, six thousand;" she saidaloud, much to the astonishment and admiration of the servants.
"That is more than enough, Madam," said the bailiff, approaching withhumbled air and smooth tone.
"I know it is," replied Isabella: "be so good as to keep your handsaway, Sir; for you are not going to have one penny of that sum. I wasonly counting to see that the sum was right. That paper, I think, willbe quite enough for you; and that, my dear father, is the receipt forthe whole sum and costs to Mr. Wittingham."
"Well, Ma'am, well, I've nothing to say," exclaimed the bailiff, "itis all in order. Howsomever, I have only done my duty; and am veryglad the matter is so settled."
"Done your duty, you vagabond," cried Sir John Slingsby, "doneonly your duty, when you ventured to use the word gammon to mydaughter--but it does not matter--it does not matter! Get out of mysight as fast as possible, and tell that fellow Wittingham to keep faroff me, for, as sure as I am alive, I will horsewhip him the firsttime I see him--take care of them, my men, and see them safe off thegrounds."
The words certainly did not seem to imply any very formidable menace;but as such the bailiff and his follower seemed to understand them,and made speed towards the door, while the men-servants answered "Thatwe will, Sir John;" but made way for the two unwelcome visitors toeffect their exit easily. Isabella remonstrated earnestly with herfather; but the jovial baronet only exclaimed, "Pooh! nonsense, Bella;no harm can happen, I must see what goes on; for, with a fair startand a good run, it would be capital fun. Come into the library--comeinto the library, we shall have the best view there; and after that wewill breakfast."
Isabella Slingsby, however, remained alone in the breakfast-room,gazing down upon the notes spread out on the table. The eagerness, theexcitement of the moment was gone. The anxious fear for her father'sliberty was over. Something smote her heart--even the little displayof the money before the eyes of the servants and the bailiffs, she wassorry for. Considerations presented themselves which she had neverthought of before; and when her cousin Mary entered the room a fewminutes after, Isabella cast her arm round her neck, and bending herhead upon her shoulder, said, with a blush on her cheek and tears inher eyes, "Poor Ned Hayward, Mary, I have thought too little of him,and he is not rich, I know."
"Do not be afraid, Isabella," said Mary, in a low tone.
"But I am afraid, Mary," rejoined Isabella, "I know my father isterribly embarrassed--I fear he will never be able to repay this sum."
"Then I will," said Mary Clifford.
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