Part 92 (1/2)

The Rector did not go over the old ground of argument, as he had to Mr.

Hurde--that it was unfair to give preference to the earlier comers. It would answer no end now: and he was, besides, aware that he might have been among those earlier applicants, but for some untoward fate, which had taken him out of the way to the Pollard cottages, and restrained him from speaking to Isaac, when he saw him fly past. Whether Mr. Hastings would have had his nine thousand pounds is another matter. More especially if--as had been a.s.serted by Mr. Hurde--the fact of the payment did not appear in the books.

”Where is George?” asked Mr. Hastings.

”He has gone to the telegraph office,” replied Thomas G.o.dolphin. ”There has been more than time for answers to arrive--to be brought here--since our telegrams went up. George grew impatient, and has gone to the station.”

”I wish to ask him how he could so have deceived me,” resumed the Rector. ”He a.s.sured me only yesterday, as it were, that the Bank was perfectly safe.”

”As he no doubt thought. Nothing would have been the matter, but for this run upon it. There's quite a panic in Prior's Ash, I am told; but what can have caused it, I know not. Some deeds of value belonging to Lord Averil have been lost or mislaid, and the report may have got about: but why it should have caused this fear, is to me utterly incomprehensible. I would have a.s.sured you myself yesterday, had you asked me, that we were perfectly safe and solvent. That we are so still, will be proved on Monday morning.”

Mr. Hastings bent forward his head. ”It would be worse than ruin to me, Mr. G.o.dolphin. I should be held responsible for the Chisholms' money; should be called upon to refund it; and I have no means of doing so. I dare not contemplate the position.”

”What are you talking of?” asked Thomas G.o.dolphin. ”I do not understand.

We hold no money belonging to the Chisholms.”

”Indeed you do,” was the reply. ”You had it all. I paid in the proceeds of the sale, nine thousand and forty-five pounds.”

Mr. G.o.dolphin paused at the a.s.sertion, looking at the Rector somewhat as his head clerk had done. ”When did you pay it in?” he inquired.

”A few days ago. I brought it in the evening, after banking hours.

Brierly came over from Binham and paid it to me in cash, and I brought it here at once. It was a large sum to keep in the house. As things have turned out, I wish I had kept it,” concluded the Rector, speaking plainly.

”Paid it to George?”

”Yes. Maria was present. I have his receipt for it, Mr. G.o.dolphin,”

added the Rector. ”You almost appear to doubt the fact. As Hurde did, when I spoke to him just now. He said it did not appear in the books.”

”Neither does it,” replied Thomas G.o.dolphin. ”But I do not doubt you, now that you tell me of the transaction. George must have omitted to enter it.”

That ”omission” began to work in the minds of both, more than either cared to tell. Thomas G.o.dolphin was marvelling at his brother's reprehensible carelessness: the Rector of All Souls' was beginning to wonder whether ”carelessness” was the deepest sin about to be laid open in the conduct of George G.o.dolphin. Very unpleasant doubts, he could scarcely tell why, were rising up within him. His keen eye searched the countenance of Thomas G.o.dolphin: but he read nothing there to confirm his doubts. On the contrary, that countenance, save for the great sorrow and vexation upon it, was, as it ever was, clear and open as the day.

Not yet, not quite yet, had the honest faith of years, reposed by Thomas G.o.dolphin in his brother, been shaken. Very, very soon was it to come: not the faith to be simply shaken, but rudely destroyed: blasted for ever; as a tree torn up by lightning.

It was useless for Mr. Hastings to remain. All the satisfaction to be obtained was--the confidently-expressed hope that Monday would set things straight. ”It would be utter ruin to me, you know,” he said, as he rose.

”It would be ruin to numbers,” replied Thomas G.o.dolphin. ”I pray you, do not glance at anything so terrible. There is no cause for it: there is not indeed: our resources are ample. I can only say that I should wish I had died long ago, rather than have lived to witness such ruin, brought upon others, through us.”

Lord Averil was asking to see Thomas G.o.dolphin, and entered his presence as Mr. Hastings left it. He came in, all impulse. It appeared that he had gone out riding that morning after breakfast, and knew nothing of the tragedy then being enacted in the town. Do you think the word too strong a one--tragedy? Wait and see its effects. In pa.s.sing the Bank on his return, Lord Averil saw the shutters up. In the moment's shock, his fears flew to Thomas G.o.dolphin. He forgot that the death, even of the princ.i.p.al, would not close a Bank for business. Lord Averil, having nothing to do with business and its ways, may have been excused the mistake.

He pulled short up, and sat staring at the Bank, his heart beating, his face growing hot. Only the day before he had seen Thomas G.o.dolphin in health (comparatively speaking) and life; and now, could he be dead?

Casting his eyes on the stragglers gathered on the pavement before the banking doors--an unusual number of stragglers, though Lord Averil was too much occupied with other thoughts to notice the fact--he stooped down and addressed one of them. It happened to be Rutt the lawyer, who in pa.s.sing had stopped to talk with the groups gathered there. Why _did_ groups gather there? The Bank was closed for the rest of the day, nothing to be obtained from its aspect but blank walls and a blank door.

What good did it do to people to halt there and stare at it? What good does it do them to halt before a house where murder has been committed, and stare at that?

The Viscount Averil bent from his horse to Rutt the lawyer. ”What has happened? Is Mr. G.o.dolphin dead?”

”It is not that, my lord. The Bank has stopped.”

”The--Bank--has----stopped?” repeated Lord Averil, pausing between each word, in his astonishment, and a greater pause before the last.