Part 6 (1/2)
”He came--you couldn't believe--to beat me!”
”Richard! I don't understand. When?”
”Yesterday”. (In reality it was four weeks before.)
”But what about?”
”Revenge! Blind, murderous revenge for turning him neck and crop out of Lagden!”
”You _are_ in a temper! But I can't understand a word of it!”
”Well, that is what I had to tell you. He came to my house--And how good have I been to this man! Didn't I send him the fifty pounds--?”
”Well, that _was_ kind. But I must tell you, Mr. Frankl, that Richard knows nothing of the fifty pounds--”
”Well, then it is _your_ fault! Oh, he did not know of the fifty pounds? Then it is your fault entirely, this rage of his against me--He threatened to shoot me dead--thrice he threatened--soon, he said--”
”Not Richard?”
”Yes, Richard!--your nice Richard! But what did I want you for to-night?
It was to let you see that I have it in my power to let your brother in for three months hard--not less. But you know, my dear, don't you, that I wouldn't do anything to give you pain? That is why, so far, I've taken no steps. But your brother must be unarmed. I can't have my life exposed, after his threats, and all”.
”Unarmed....”
”Yes. I have it on good authority that your brother has guns. I must have those guns put into my own hands by you...”
”But I couldn't! He would find out...”
”Then I must act, that's all. Or no--I give you another chance--tell him of the fifty pounds I sent--that may disarm him in another way--”
He was sure that this she would not now do, yet felt relieved when she cried out: ”I couldn't! Not now! Can't you see?”
”Well, there is nothing to be done, then. I must act, that's all”.
”But don't be _hard_! What can I do? Sooner or later he'd be sure to miss them!”
”Poh! he is not always shooting, I suppose? And after a few weeks I'd give them back. Anyway, think it over: and I'll be here on Tuesday night next at nine to receive them. Good night--”
She looked palely after him, her feet in a net, new to her, woven of concealments and deceit.
At eleven that night she was sitting in their diminutive parlour,--Hogarth at a table inscribing the a.s.sociation's names received by post that evening; and at last, bending low over her sewing, she said: ”Richard, is it true you have been to the Hall?”
He started! ”Yes. Who told you?”
”I heard it”.
He looked at her piercingly. ”_Answer!_”