Part 10 (1/2)

Mrs. Hare answered only by a look of grat.i.tude, and clasped Mr.

Carlyle's hand in both hers. ”Archibald, I must see my boy; how can it be managed? Must I go into the garden to him, or may he come in here?”

”I think he might come in; you know how bad the night air is for you.

Are the servants astir this evening?”

”Things seem to have turned out quite kindly,” spoke up Barbara. ”It happens to be Anne's birthday, so mamma sent me just now into the kitchen with a cake and a bottle of wine, desiring them to drink her health. I shut the door and told them to make themselves comfortable; that if we wanted anything we would ring.”

”Then they are safe,” observed Mr. Carlyle, ”and Richard may come in.”

”I will go and ascertain whether he is come,” said Barbara.

”Stay where you are, Barbara; I will go myself,” interposed Mr. Carlyle.

”Have the door open when you see us coming up the path.”

Barbara gave a faint cry, and, trembling, clutched the arm of Mr.

Carlyle. ”There he is! See! Standing out from the trees, just opposite this window.”

Mr. Carlyle turned to Mrs. Hare. ”I shall not bring him in immediately; for if I am to have an interview with him, it must be got over first, that I may go back home to the justices, and keep Mr. Hare all safe.”

He proceeded on his way, gained the trees, and plunged into them; and, leaning against one, stood Richard Hare. Apart from his disguise, and the false and fierce black whiskers, he was a blue-eyed, fair, pleasant- looking young man, slight, and of middle height, and quite as yielding and gentle as his mother. In her, this mild yieldingness of disposition was rather a graceful quality; in Richard it was regarded as a contemptible misfortune. In his boyhood he had been nicknamed Leafy d.i.c.k, and when a stranger inquired why, the answer was that, as a leaf was swayed by the wind, so he was swayed by everybody about him, never possessing a will of his own. In short, Richard Hare, though of an amiable and loving nature, was not over-burdened with what the world calls brains. Brains he certainly had, but they were not sharp ones.

”Is my mother coming out to me?” asked Richard, after a few interchanged sentences with Mr. Carlyle.

”No. You are to go indoors. Your father is away, and the servants are shut up in the kitchen and will not see you. Though if they did, they could never recognize you in that trim. A fine pair of whiskers, Richard.”

”Let us go in, then. I am all in a twitter till I get away. Am I to have the money?”

”Yes, yes. But, Richard, your sister says you wish to disclose to me the true history of that lamentable night. You had better speak while we are here.”

”It was Barbara herself wanted you to hear it. I think it of little moment. If the whole place heard the truth from me, it would do no good, for I should get no belief--not even from you.”

”Try me, Richard, in as few words as possible.”

”Well, there was a row at home about my going so much to Hallijohn's.

The governor and my mother thought I went after Afy; perhaps I did, and perhaps I didn't. Hallijohn had asked me to lend him my gun, and that evening, when I went to see Af--when I went to see some one--never mind- -”

”Richard,” interrupted Mr. Carlyle, ”there's an old saying, and it is sound advice: 'Tell the whole truth to your lawyer and your doctor.' If I am to judge whether anything can be attempted for you, you must tell it to me; otherwise, I would rather hear nothing. It shall be sacred trust.”

”Then, if I must, I must,” returned the yielding Richard. ”I did love the girl. I would have waited till I was my own master to make her my wife, though it had been for years and years. I could not do it, you know, in the face of my father's opposition.”

”Your wife?” rejoined Mr. Carlyle, with some emphasis.

Richard looked surprised. ”Why, you don't suppose I meant anything else!

I wouldn't have been such a blackguard.”

”Well, go on, Richard. Did she return your love?”

”I can't be certain. Sometimes I thought she did, sometimes not; she used to play and shuffle, and she liked too much to be with--him. I would think her capricious--telling me I must not come this evening, and I must not come the other; but I found out they were the evenings when she was expecting him. We were never there together.”

”You forget that you have not indicted 'him' by any name, Richard. I am at fault.”