Volume Ii Part 17 (1/2)
”But how can all this be done so hurriedly? You talk of starting at once.”
”I must, if I would save your son's cause. The India Board are sending out their emissaries to Calcutta, and I must antic.i.p.ate them--if I cannot do more, by gaining them over to us on the voyage out. It is a case for energy and activity, and I want to employ both.”
”The time is very short for all this,” said Barrington, again.
”So it is, sir, and so are the few seconds which may rescue a man from drowning! It is in the crisis of my fate that I ask you to stand by me.”
”But have you any reason to believe that my granddaughter will hear you favorably? You are almost strangers to each other?”
”If she will not give me the legal right to make her my heir, I mean to usurp the privilege. I have already been with a lawyer for that purpose.
My dear sir,” added he, pa.s.sionately, ”I want to break with the past forever! When the world sets up its howl against a man, the odds are too great! To stand and defy it he must succ.u.mb or retreat. Now, I mean to retire, but with the honors of war, mark you.”
”My sister will never consent to it,” muttered Barrington.
”Will you? Have I the a.s.surance of _your_ support?”
”I can scarcely venture to say 'yes,' and yet I can't bear to say 'no'
to you!”
”This is less than I looked for from you,” said Stapylton, mournfully.
”I know Dinah so well. I know how hopeless it would be to ask her concurrence to this plan.”
”She may not take the generous view of it; but there is a worldly one worth considering,” said Stapylton, bitterly.
”Then, sir, if you count on _that_, I would not give a copper half-penny for your chance of success!” cried Barrington, pa.s.sionately.
”You have quite misconceived me; you have wronged me altogether,” broke in Stapylton, in a tone of apology; for he saw the mistake he had made, and hastened to repair it. ”My meaning was this--”
”So much the better. I'm glad I misunderstood you. But here come the ladies. Let us go and meet them.”
”One word,--only one word. Will you befriend me?”
”I will do all that I can,--that is, all that I ought,” said Barrington, as he led him away, and re-entered the cottage.
”I will not meet them to-night,” said Stapylton, hurriedly. ”I am nervous and agitated. I will say good-night now.”
This was the second time within a few days that Stapylton had shown an unwillingness to confront Miss Barrington, and Peter thought over it long and anxiously. ”What can he mean by it?” said he, to himself. ”Why should he be so frank and outspoken with me, and so reserved with her?
What can Dinah know of him? What can she suspect, that is not known to me? It is true they never did like each other,--never 'hit it off'
together; but that is scarcely _his_ fault. My excellent sister throws away little love on strangers, and opens every fresh acquaintance with a very fortifying prejudice against the newly presented. However it happens,” muttered he, with a sigh, ”_she_ is not often wrong, and _I_ am very seldom right;” and, with this reflection, he turned once again to resume his walk in the garden.
CHAPTER XII. A DOCTOR AND HIS PATIENT
Stapylton did not make his appearance at breakfast; he sent down a message that he had pa.s.sed a feverish night, and begged that Dr. Dill might be sent for. Though Barrington made two attempts to see his guest, the quietness of the room on each occasion implied that he was asleep, and, fearing to disturb him, he went downstairs again on tiptoe.
”This is what the persecution has done, Dinah,” said he. ”They have brought that stout-hearted fellow so low that he may be the victim of a fever to-morrow.”
”Nonsense, Peter. Men of courage don't fall sick because the newspapers calumniate them. They have other things on their minds than such puny attacks.”