Part 39 (1/2)

”It was for him,” said the Squire, ”to come or to keep away. As long as my name was being bandied about in the wicked way it has been, I would not ask him to my house. I have my pride, Lord Cheviot. If your nephew marries my daughter, he marries her as an equal. My family has been before the world as long as his, or your lords.h.i.+p's. It has not reached the distinction, of late, of either; but that is a personal matter. If Lord Inverell takes a bride from Kencote he takes her from a house where men as high in the world as he have taken brides for many generations past.”

d.i.c.k, if he had heard this speech, might have been relieved of his fear that the Squire would be overawed by the Cabinet Minister. He might also have felt that as an a.s.sertion of dignity it would have been more effective if postponed to a point in the conversation when that dignity should have been affronted.

”If that were not so, Mr. Clinton,” said Lord Cheviot, ”I should not have done myself the honour of seeking an interview with you. Let us come to the point--as equals--and as men of honour. You have said that your name is being bandied about in a wicked way. I take that to mean that accusations are being made which have no truth in them.”

”Many accusations are being made,” said the Squire, ”which have no word of truth in them. They will not be believed by anybody who knows me--who knows where I stand. But mud sticks. Many people do not know me--most people, I may say, who have heard these stories; for they have spread everywhere. I stand as a mark. I shelter myself behind n.o.body; I draw in n.o.body, if I can help it. That is why I asked your nephew to put off his visit to my house, and why I have not renewed it since.”

”It was the right way to act,” said Lord Cheviot, ”and I thank you for acting so. But, for my nephew, it does not settle the question; it only postpones it. He loves your daughter, and she, I am a.s.sured, loves him. I will not disguise anything from you, Mr. Clinton.

Personally, I should prefer that this marriage should not take place.

But I cannot dictate, I can only advise. I advised my nephew to wait awhile. He did so. And he is willing to wait no longer. Mr. Clinton, when slanders are circulated, there are ways of stopping them.”

”What are they?” cried the Squire. ”The slander takes many forms.

None of them are brought before me. I know they are being circulated; that is all. I know where they spring from, but I can't trace them back. There is cunning at work, Lord Cheviot, as well as wickedness.

There is nothing to take hold of.”

”If you had something definite to take hold of, you could meet it; you could disperse these slanders?”

”Yes,” said the Squire boldly.

”Then I can be of service to you. I have a letter from Lord Colne, in which he makes certain accusations. It was written in answer to one from me. I had heard that he had been making free with my nephew's name in connection with yours, and I wrote on his behalf for definite statements, which could be acted on. Here is his letter.”

The Squire took, and read it.

MY LORD,

In answer to your letter, my accusation against Mr. Clinton is that the theft of a pearl necklace of which Mrs. Amberley was accused last year was committed by a member of his family, that he knew of this, and allowed money to be paid to keep the secret; also that he offered Lord Sedbergh the price of the pearls, which offer was refused.

I am, Your Lords.h.i.+p's Obedient Servant, COLNE.

It was overwhelming. Here was the truth, and nothing but the truth.

That it was not the whole truth helped the Squire not at all.

”That letter,” said Lord Cheviot, when he had given him time to read it, and his eyes were still bent on the page, ”is the strongest possible ground for an action for libel. It is evidently meant to be taken so. Lord Colne has const.i.tuted himself Mrs. Amberley's champion.

It is to him--or to her through him--that the slanders to which you have referred can be traced back.”

”May I take this letter?” asked the Squire. ”It is what I have wanted--something tangible to go upon.”

”Certainly, Mr. Clinton. I am glad to have done you the service--incidentally.”

Again the little p.r.i.c.k. It was not on the Squire's behalf that the fire had been drawn.

The p.r.i.c.k was left to work in. Lord Cheviot sat and waited.

”This is a most infamous woman,” the Squire broke out. ”She came herself and tried to trap me. I refused to give her money. This is her revenge.”

Still Lord Cheviot waited.