Part 67 (1/2)

”Yes, I do.”

”But when?”

”When I've married Mrs. Greenow,--and, therefore, I expect your a.s.sistance in that little scheme. Let us drink her health. We shall always be delighted to see you at our house, Cheesy, my boy, and you shall be allowed to hack the hams just as much as you please.”

”You shall be made to pay for this,” said Cheesacre, gasping with anger;--gasping almost more with dismay than he did with anger.

”All right, old fellow; I'll pay for it,--with the widow's money.

Come; our half-hour is nearly over; shall we go up-stairs?”

”I'll expose you.”

”Don't now;--don't be ill-natured.”

”Will you tell me where you mean to sleep to-night, Captain Bellfield?”

”If I sleep at Oileymead it will only be on condition that I have one of the mahogany-furnitured bedrooms.”

”You'll never put your foot in that house again. You're a rascal, sir.”

”Come, come, Cheesy, it won't do for us to quarrel in a lady's house.

It wouldn't be the thing at all. You're not drinking your wine. You might as well take another gla.s.s, and then we'll go up-stairs.”

”You've left your traps at Oileymead, and not one of them you shall have till you've paid me every s.h.i.+lling you owe me. I don't believe you've a s.h.i.+rt in the world beyond what you've got there.”

”It's lucky I brought one in to change; wasn't it, Cheesy? I shouldn't have thought of it only for the hint you gave me. I might as well ring the bell for Jeannette to put away the wine, if you won't take any more.” Then he rang the bell, and when Jeannette came he skipped lightly up-stairs into the drawing-room.

”Was he here before to-day?” said Cheesacre, nodding his head at the doorway through which Bellfield had pa.s.sed.

”Who? The Captain? Oh dear no. The Captain don't come here much now;--not to say often, by no means.”

”He's a confounded rascal.”

”Oh, Mr. Cheesacre!” said Jeannette.

”He is;--and I ain't sure that there ain't others nearly as bad as he is.”

”If you mean me, Mr. Cheesacre, I do declare you're a wronging me; I do indeed.”

”What's the meaning of his going on in this way?”

”I don't know nothing of his ways, Mr. Cheesacre; but I've been as true to you, sir;--so I have;--as true as true.” And Jeannette put her handkerchief up to her eyes.

He moved to the door, and then a thought occurred to him. He put his hand to his trousers pocket, and turning back towards the girl, gave her half-a-crown. She curtsied as she took it, and then repeated her last words. ”Yes, Mr. Cheesacre,--as true as true.” Mr. Cheesacre said nothing further, but followed his enemy up to the drawing-room. ”What game is up now, I wonder,” said Jeannette to herself, when she was left alone. ”They two'll be cutting each other's throatses before they've done, and then my missus will take the surwiver.” But she made up her mind that Cheesacre should be the one to have his throat cut fatally, and that Bellfield should be the survivor.

Cheesacre, when he reached the drawing-room, found Bellfield sitting on the same sofa with Mrs. Greenow looking at a book of photographs which they both of them were handling together. The outside rim of her widow's frill on one occasion touched the Captain's whisker, and as it did so the Captain looked up with a gratified expression of triumph. If any gentleman has ever seen the same thing under similar circ.u.mstances, he will understand that Cheesacre must have been annoyed.

”Yes,” said Mrs. Greenow, waving her handkerchief, of which little but a two-inch-deep border seemed to be visible. Bellfield knew at once that it was not the same handkerchief which she had waved before they went down to dinner. ”Yes,--there he is. It's so like him.” And then she apostrophized the _carte de visite_ of the departed one. ”Dear Greenow; dear husband! When my spirit is false to thee, let thine forget to visit me softly in my dreams. Thou wast unmatched among husbands. Whose tender kindness was ever equal to thine? whose sweet temper was ever so constant? whose manly care so all-sufficient?”

While the words fell from her lips her little finger was touching Bellfield's little finger, as they held the book between them.

Charlie Fairstairs and Mr. Cheesacre were watching her narrowly, and she knew that they were watching her. She was certainly a woman of great genius and of great courage.