Part 37 (1/2)

”Yes,” was the reply.

”I s'pose 'e's been and asked you to the wedding?” said the sarcastic Mrs. Silk.

Her son started and, turning his back on her, wound up the clock. ”Yes, 'e has,” he said, with a sly grin.

Mrs. Silk's eyes snapped. ”Well, of all the impudence,” she said, breathlessly.

”Well, 'e has,” said her son, hugging himself over the joke. ”And, what's more, I'm going.”

He composed his face sufficiently to bid her ”good-night,” and, turning a deaf ear to her remonstrances and inquiries, took up a candle and went off whistling.

CHAPTER XXIV

The idea in the mind of Mr. James Hardy when he concocted his infamous plot was that Jack Nugent would be summarily dismissed on some pretext by Miss Kybird, and that steps would at once be taken by her family to publish her banns together with those of Mr. Silk. In thinking thus he had made no allowance for the workings and fears of such a capable mind as Nathan Smith's, and as days pa.s.sed and nothing happened he became a prey to despair.

He watched Mr. Silk keenly, but that gentleman went about his work in his usual quiet and gloomy fas.h.i.+on, and, after a day's leave for the purpose of arranging the affairs of a sick aunt in Camberwell, came back only a little less gloomy than before. It was also clear that Mr. Swann's complaisance was nearly at an end, and a letter, couched in vigorous, not to say regrettable, terms for a moribund man, expressed such a desire for fresh air and exercise that Hardy was prepared to see him at any moment.

It was the more unfortunate as he thought that he had of late detected a slight softening in Captain Nugent's manner towards him. On two occasions the captain, who was out when he called, had made no comment to find upon his return that the visitor was being entertained by his daughter, going so far, indeed, as to permit the conversation to gain vastly in interest by that young person remaining in the room. In face of this improvement he thought with dismay of having to confess failure in a scheme which apart from success was inexcusable.

The captain had also unbent in another direction, and Mr. Wilks, to his great satisfaction, was allowed to renew his visits to Equator Lodge and a.s.sist his old master in the garden. Here at least the steward was safe from the designs of Mrs. Silk and the innuendoes of Fullalove Alley.

It was at this time, too, that the widow stood in most need of his advice, the behaviour of Edward Silk being of a nature to cause misgivings in any mother's heart. A strange restlessness possessed him, varied with occasional outbursts of hilarity and good nature. Dark hints emanated from him at these times concerning a surprise in store for her at no distant date, hints which were at once explained away in a most unsatisfactory manner when she became too pressing in her inquiries. He haunted the High Street, and when the suspicious Mrs. Silk spoke of Amelia he only laughed and waxed humorous over such unlikely subjects as broken hearts and broken vows.

It was a week after Mr. Kybird's visit to the alley that he went, as usual, for a stroll up and down the High Street. The evening was deepening, and some of the shops had already lit up, as Mr. Silk, with his face against the window-pane, tried in vain to penetrate the obscurity of Mr. Kybird's shop. He could just make out a dim figure behind the counter, which he believed to be Amelia, when a match was struck and a gas jet threw a sudden light in the shop and revealed Mr. Jack Nugent standing behind the counter with his hand on the lady's shoulder.

One glance was sufficient. The next moment there was a sharp cry from Miss Kybird and a bewildered stare from Nugent as something, only comparable to a human cracker, bounced into the shop and commenced to explode before them.

”Take your 'and off,” raved Mr. Silk. ”Leave 'er alone. 'Ow dare you? D'ye hear me? 'Melia, I won't 'ave it! I won't 'ave it!”

”Don't be silly, Teddy,” remonstrated Mr. Nugent, following up Miss Kybird, as she edged away from him.

”Leave 'er alone, d'ye 'ear?” yelled Mr. Silk, thumping the counter with his small fist. ”She's my wife!”

”Teddy's mad,” said Mr. Nugent, calmly, ”stark, staring, raving mad. Poor Teddy.”

He shook his head sadly, and had just begun to recommend a few remedies when the parlour door opened and the figure of Mr. Kybird, with his wife standing close behind him, appeared in the doorway.

”Who's making all this noise?” demanded the former, looking from one to the other.

”I am,” said Mr. Silk, fiercely. ”It's no use your winking at me; I'm not going to 'ave any more of this nonsense. 'Melia, you go and get your 'at on and come straight off 'ome with me.”

Mr. Kybird gave a warning cough. ”Go easy, Teddy,” he murmured.

”And don't you cough at me,” said the irritated Mr. Silk, ”because it won't do no good.”

Mr. Kybird subsided. He was not going to quarrel with a son-in-law who might at any moment be worth ten thousand pounds.

”Isn't he mad?” inquired the amazed Mr. Nugent.