Part 54 (1/2)

Helmsley smiled.

”I knew I might trust Vesey!” he thought. Aloud he said--

”Well, I should believe the gentleman's lawyers more than the newspaper reporters. Wouldn't you?”

”Of course. I shouldn't have taken the least interest in the rumour, if I hadn't been once upon a time in love with Lucy Sorrel. Because if the old man is really dead and has done nothing in the way of providing for her, I wonder what she will do?”

”Go out charing!” said Helmsley drily. ”Many a better woman than you have described her to be, has had to come to that.”

There was a silence. Presently Helmsley spoke again in a quiet voice--

”I think, Mr. Reay, you should tell all your mind to Miss Mary.”

Angus started nervously.

”Do you, David? Why?”

”Why?--well--because--” Here Helmsley spoke very gently--”because I believe she loves you!”

The colour kindled in Reay's face.

”Ah, don't fool me, David!” he said--”you don't know what it would mean to me----”

”Fool you!” Helmsley sat upright in his chair and looked at him with an earnestness which left no room for doubt. ”Do you think I would 'fool'

you, or any man, on such a matter? Old as I am, and lonely and friendless as I _was_, before I met this dear woman, I know that love is the most sacred of all things--the most valuable of all things--better than gold--greater than power--the only treasure we can lay up in heaven 'where neither moth nor rust do corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal!' Do not”--and here his strong emotion threatened to get the better of him--”do not, sir, think that because I was tramping the road in search of a friend to help me, before Miss Mary found me and brought me home here and saved my life, G.o.d bless her!--do not think, I say, that I have no feeling! I feel very much--very strongly--” He broke off breathing quickly, and his hands trembled. Reay hastened to his side in some alarm, remembering what Mary had told him about the old man's heart.

”Dear old David, I know!” he said. ”Don't worry! I know you feel it all--I'm sure you do! Now, for goodness' sake, don't excite yourself like this--she--she'll never forgive me!” and he shook up the cus.h.i.+on at the back of Helmsley's chair and made him lean upon it. ”Only it would be such a joy to me--such a wonder--such a help--to know that she really loved me!--_loved_ me, David!--you understand--why, I think I could conquer the world!”

Helmsley smiled faintly. He was suffering physical anguish at the moment--the old sharp pain at his heart to which he had become more or less wearily accustomed, had dizzied his senses for a s.p.a.ce, but as the spasm pa.s.sed he took Reay's hand and pressed it gently.

”What does the Great Book tell us?” he muttered. ”'If a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned!'

That's true! And I would never 'fool' or mislead you on a matter of such life and death to you, Mr. Reay. That's why I tell you to speak to Miss Mary as soon as you can find a good opportunity--for I am sure she loves you!”

”Sure, David?”

”Sure!”

Reay stood silent,--his eyes s.h.i.+ning, and ”the light that never was on sea or land” transfigured his features.

At that moment a tap came at the door. A hand, evidently accustomed to the outside management of the latch, lifted it, and Mr. Twitt entered, his rubicund face one broad smile.

”'Afternoon, David! 'Afternoon, Mister! Wheer's Mis' Deane?”

”She's resting a bit in her room,” replied Helmsley.

”Ah, well! You can tell 'er the news when she comes in. Mr. Arbroath's away for 'is life wi' old Nick in full chase arter 'im! It don't do t'ave a fav'rite gel!”

Helmsley and Reay stared at him, and then at one another.

”Why, what's up?” demanded Reay.

”Oh, nuthin' much!” and Twitt's broad shoulders shook with internal laughter. ”It's wot 'appens often in the fam'lies o' the haris-to-crazy, an' aint taken no notice of, forbye 'tis not so common among poor folk.