Part 28 (1/2)
”Quite true,” said Mr. Huntley. ”I managed to rub through France after a fas.h.i.+on, but I don't know what the natives thought of my French. What I did know, I have half forgotten. But, now for explanations. Of course, Mr. Channing has come to try the effect of the German springs?”
”Yes, and we have such hopes!” she answered. ”There does appear to be a probability that not only relief, but a cure, may be effected; otherwise, you may be sure we should not have ventured on so much expense.”
”I always said Mr. Channing ought to try them.”
”Very true; you did so. We were only waiting, you know, for the termination of the chancery suit. It is terminated, Mr. Huntley; and against us.”
Mr. Huntley had been abroad since June, travelling in different parts of the Continent; but he had heard from home regularly, chiefly from his daughter, and this loss of the suit was duly communicated with other news.
”Never mind,” said he to Mrs. Channing. ”Better luck next time.”
He was of a remarkably pleasant disposition, in temperament not unlike Hamish Channing. A man of keen intellect was Mr. Huntley; his fine face expressing it. The luggage collected, they rejoined Mr. Channing.
”I have scarcely said a word to you,” cried Mr. Huntley, taking his hand. ”But I am better pleased to see you here, than I should be to see any one else living. It is the first step towards a cure. Where are you bound for?”
”For Borcette. It is--”
”I know it,” interrupted Mr. Huntley. ”I was at it a year or two ago. One of the little Brunnens, near Aix-la-Chapelle. I stayed a whole week there. I have a great mind to accompany you thither, now, and settle you there.”
”Oh, do!” exclaimed Mr. Channing, his face lighting up, as the faces of invalids will light up at the antic.i.p.ated companions.h.i.+p of a friend. ”If you can spare time, do come with us!”
”My time is my own; the business that brought me here is concluded, and I was thinking of leaving to-day. Having nothing to do after my early breakfast, I strolled down to watch in the London steamer, little thinking I should see you arrive by it. That's settled, then. I will accompany you as far as Borcette, and see you installed.”
”When do you return home?”
”Now; and glad enough I shall be to get there. Travelling is delightful for a change, but when you have had enough of it, home peeps out in the distance with all its charms.”
The train which Mr. and Mrs. Channing had intended to take was already gone, through delay in the steamer's reaching Antwerp, and they had to wait for another. When it started, it had them safely in it, Mr. Huntley with them. Their route lay through part of the Netherlands, through Malines, and some beautiful valleys; so beautiful that it is worth going the whole distance from England to see them.
”What is this disturbance about the seniors.h.i.+p, and Lady Augusta Yorke?” asked Mr. Huntley, as it suddenly occurred to his recollection, in the earlier part of their journey. ”Master Harry has written me a letter full of notes of exclamation and indignation, saying I 'ought to come home and see about it.' What is it?”
Mr. Channing explained; at least, as far as he was able to do so. ”It has given rise to a good deal of dissatisfaction in the school,” he added, ”but I cannot think, for my own part, that it can have any foundation. Mr. Pye would not be likely to give a promise of the kind, either to Lady Augusta, or to any other of the boys' friends.”
”If he attempted to give one to me, I should throw it back to him with a word of a sort,” hastily rejoined Mr. Huntley, in a warm tone. ”Nothing can possibly be more unjust, than to elevate one boy over another undeservedly; nothing, in my opinion, can be more pernicious. It is enough to render the boy himself unjust through life; to give him loose ideas of right and wrong. Have you not inquired into it?”
”No,” replied Mr. Channing.
”I shall. If I find reason to suspect there may be truth in the report, I shall certainly inquire into it. Underhand work of that sort goes, with me, against the grain. I can stir in it with a better grace than you can,” Mr. Huntley added: ”my son being pretty sure not to succeed to the seniors.h.i.+p, so long as yours is above him to take it. Tom Channing will make a good senior; a better than Harry would. Harry, in his easy indifference, would suffer the school to lapse into insubordination; Tom will keep a tight hand over it.”
A sensation of pain darted across the heart of Mr. Channing. Only the day before his leaving home, he had accidentally heard a few words spoken between Tom and Charley, which had told him that Tom's chance of the seniors.h.i.+p was emperilled through the business connected with Arthur. Mr. Charming had then questioned Tom, and found that it was so. He must speak of this now to Mr. Huntley, however painful it might be to himself to do so. It were more manly to meet it openly than to bury it in silence, and let Mr. Huntley hear of it (if he had not heard of it already) as soon as he reached Helstonleigh.
”Have you heard anything in particular about Arthur lately?” inquired Mr. Channing.
”Of course I have,” was the answer. ”Ellen did not fail to give me a full account of it. I congratulate you on possessing such sons.”
”Congratulate! To what do you allude?” asked Mr. Channing.
”To Arthur's applying after Jupp's post, as soon as he knew that the suit had failed. He's a true Channing. I am glad he got it.”
”Not to that--I did not allude to that,” hastily rejoined Mr. Channing. And then, with downcast eyes, and a downcast heart, he related sufficient to put Mr. Huntley in possession of the facts.
Mr. Huntley heard the tale with incredulity, a smile of ridicule parting his lips. ”Suspect Arthur of theft!” he exclaimed. ”What next? Had I been in my place on the magistrates' bench that day, I should have dismissed the charge at once, upon such defective evidence. Channing, what is the matter?”
Mr. Channing laid his hand upon his aching brow, and Mr. Huntley had to bend over him to catch the whispered answer. ”I do fear that he may be guilty. If he is not guilty, some strange mystery altogether is attached to it.”
”But why do you fear that he is guilty?” asked Mr. Huntley, in surprise.
”Because his own conduct, relating to the charge, is so strange. He will not a.s.sert his innocence; or, if he does attempt to a.s.sert it, it is with a faint, hesitating manner and tone, that can only give one the impression of falsehood, instead of truth.”
”It is utterly absurd to suppose your son Arthur capable of the crime. He is one of those whom it is impossible to doubt; n.o.ble, true, honourable! No; I would suspect myself, before I could suspect Arthur Channing.”
”I would have suspected myself before I had suspected him,” impulsively spoke Mr. Channing. ”But there are the facts, coupled with his not denying the charge. He could not deny it, even to the satisfaction of Mr. Galloway: did not attempt it; had he done so, Galloway would not have turned him from the office.”
Mr. Huntley fell into thought, revolving over the details, is they had been related to him. That Arthur was the culprit, his judgment utterly repudiated; and he came to the conclusion that he must be screening another. He glanced at Mrs. Channing, who sat in troubled silence.
”You do not believe Arthur guilty?” he said, in a low tone, suddenly bending over to her.
”I do not know what to believe; T am racked with doubt and pain,” she answered. ”Arthur's words to me in private are only compatible with entire innocence; but then, what becomes of the broad facts?--of his strange appearance of guilt before the world? G.o.d can bring his innocence to light, he says; and he is content to wait His time.”
”If there is a mystery, I'll try to come to the bottom of it, when I reach Helstonleigh,” thought Mr. Huntley. ”Arthur's not guilty, whoever else may be.”
It was impossible to shake his firm faith in Arthur Channing. Mr. Huntley was one of the few who read character strongly and surely, and he knew Arthur was incapable of doing wrong. Had his eyes witnessed Arthur positively stealing the bank-note, his mind, his judgment would have refused credence to his eyes. You may, therefore, judge that neither then, nor afterwards, was he likely to admit the possibility of Arthur's guilt.
”And the college school is saying that Tom shall not stand for the seniors.h.i.+p!” he resumed aloud. ”Does my son say it?”
”Some of them are saying it; I believe the majority of the school. I do not know whether your son is amongst the number.”
”He had better not let me find him so,” cried Mr. Huntley. ”But now, don't suffer this affair to worry you,” he added, turning heartily to Mr. Channing. ”If Arthur's guilty, I'll eat him; and I shall make it my business to look into it closely when I reach home. You are incapacitated, my old friend, and I shall act for you.”
”Did Ellen not mention this, in writing to you?”
”No; the sly puss! Catch Miss Ellen writing to me anything that might tell against the Channings.”
A silence followed. The subject, which the words seemed to hint at, was one upon which there could be no openness between them. A warm attachment had sprung up between Hamish Channing and Ellen Huntley; but whether Mr. Huntley would sanction it, now that the suit had failed, was doubtful. He had never absolutely sanctioned it before: tacitly, in so far as that he had not interfered to prevent Ellen from meeting Hamish in society--in friendly intercourse. Probably, he had never looked upon it from a serious point of view; possibly, he had never noticed it. Hamish had not spoken, even to Ellen; but, that they did care for each other very much, was evident to those who chose to open their eyes.
”No two people in all Helstonleigh were so happy in their children as you!” exclaimed Mr. Huntley. ”Or had such cause to be so.”
”None happier,” a.s.sented Mrs. Channing, tears rising to her eyes. ”They were, and are good, dutiful, and loving. Would you believe that Hamish, little as he can have to spare, has been one of the chief contributors to help us here?”
Mr. Huntley lifted his eyebrows in surprise. ”Hamish has! How did he accomplish it?”
”He has, indeed. I fancy he has been saving up with this in view. Dear, self-denying Hamis.h.!.+”
Now, it just happened that Mr. Huntley was cognizant of Mr. Hamish's embarra.s.sments; so, how the ”saving up” could have been effected, he was at a loss to know. ”Careless Hamish may have borrowed it,” thought he to himself, ”but saved it up he has not.”
”What are we approaching now?” interrupted Mr. Channing.