by
M. E. BRADDON,
Author of "Lady Audley's Secret." In Three Volumes. VOL. III. Fifth Edition. 1863. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. I HAVE NO WIFE
III. ON THE WATCH
VIII. UNDER A CLOUD
XI. REUNION
XII. THE BRASS BUTTON BY CROSBY, BIRMINGHAM
XIII. OFF THE SCENT
XIV. "He was in a devil of a hurry, this chap," he muttered rather sulkily. "You was with him when the shot were
fired, and you warn't far when he found the body. But he bore all very patiently. He might have told them that if twenty
persons had had a powerful motive for killing James Conyers, it was
possible that a one-and-twentieth person who had no motive might have
done the deed. "Ah,
my dear, I cannot tell you that I am sorry for this man's death. "You, Hargraves, will
be wanted as a witness." Had he been married, he would have brought
his wife with him, I should suppose. "You infer, then, that James Conyers was unmarried?" "Most decidedly." "To an unhappy accident. I can account for it in no other way. "No," answered John, decisively; "I can answer for my servants as I
would for myself. "There was this superannuated trainer whom you spoke of just now, Mr.
Mellish," he said. cried John Mellish; "he is as good a fellow as ever
breathed. "Humph," muttered the coroner. Mellish?" All was over. Free, have I said? asked John. They want to speak to ye, sir, oop at the Loion." "I doan't know, sir," he whispered. "Yes, yes; I'll go," answered John absently. "_I_ know what they've found," he muttered; "and _I_ know what they
want with him. CHAPTER II. I HAVE NO WIFE." "Will you please to step this way?" John asked. "Pray sit down, Mr. Mellish," he said. He came immediately to me, and consulted me
upon this very awkward business. "The document is of some importance, then?" John asked. I have not shown it to Dork; but I detained
Dork in order that you may hear from him how and where the paper was
found, and why it was not produced at the inquest." cried John, lifting
his head suddenly, and looking from the coroner to the clergyman. "Let me see this paper, then, if it concerns me," John said very
carelessly. "Oh, my God!" asked the coroner. "No, no!" cried John savagely. It is a matter of purely private
interest, and has no reference to the murder. "Yes, sir." If
it concerns me, or any one connected with me, I have a right to see it." cried John, waving the speaker away from him as he
snatched the paper from his hand; "let me alone! He rose at last, after a silence that seemed long to the spectators of
his grief. He struck his clenched first upon the table, and looked with proud
defiance at the two men. Even
as I write this, I can see that common-land of which I write. The murderer whose crime
remains unsuspected for ten years can laugh at the police-officers
who discover his guilt in the eleventh. CHAPTER III. She sat in a capacious
wicker-work arm-chair, close to the open window, with her head lying
back upon the chintz-covered cushions, and her eyes wandering far away
across the lawn and flower-beds towards the winding pathway by which
it was likely John Mellish would return from the inquest at the Golden
Lion. She sat alone, I have said; but Heaven knows she was not
companionless. "Oh, if I could suffer alone!" she thought; "if I could suffer all
this misery alone, I think I would go through it to the last without
complaining; but the shame, the degradation, the anguish, will come
upon others more heavily than upon me. She loved them, and was sorry for them, with an equal measure
of love and sorrow. She sat in a dull stupor,
waiting to receive her sentence. It was half-past two, when she was startled by the sound of a shambling
footstep upon the gravelled pathway underneath the verandah. "Be quiet, Bow-wow," she said; "quiet, boy,--quiet." She still held him with one firm hand, soothing him with the other. Your master is dead, and
you have no longer an excuse for coming here. "Don't be in such a hoory," he said; "I want to speak to you. I thought you might want to know all about
it. "I have told you that your presence is disagreeable," she
said. "Stand aside, and let me shut the window." she said. He had
secured his revenge, and had contrived to be the witness of her
agony. "They found th' certificate," said the "Softy." "He'd carried it about
with him, sewed up in's waistco-at." She put her hand to her head, trying
to realize the full horror of her position. she thought. "You have told me all that you have to tell," she said; "be so good as
to get out of the way while I shut the window." God bless you, my best and truest. Good-bye." She lighted a taper, and sealed the envelope which contained this
letter. "I have brought disgrace and misery upon all who have loved me," she
thought. "I will go to Talbot," she thought. "He is a good man. "A quarter past three," she said. I could walk the distance in the time." "My poor boy, my poor boy!" she thought. "I look like a woman who could cut her throat in such a crisis as
this," she thought. She put these in her purse,
gathered her cloak about her, and walked towards the door. "I am going into the garden, Parsons," she said; "tell Mr. Mellish that
there is a letter for him in his study." She went out of a little gate, leading into some meadows. CHAPTER IV. Yes, he had prayed for her and
forgiven her, and he was at peace. His love, his idol, his empress,
his goddess--it was of her he thought. Disgrace, where she was concerned, knew in his mind no degrees. It was not his own humiliation he thought of when his face grew hot
as he imagined the talk there would be in the country if this fatal
indiscretion of Aurora's youth ever became generally known; it was
the thought of her shame that stung him to the heart. But she was so perfect; and how could she, how could she? But he prayed for her, and forgave her. "My poor dear!" he said, "my poor dear! And all
this was perfectly true. No one need know of it. Henceforth your sorrows are
my sorrows, and it is hard if I cannot help you to carry the load
lightly. We are one, my dear. For the first time since our wedding-day,
we are truly united." He knocked at the window,
but there was no answer. "Lolly has grown tired of waiting," he thought. The decorations of the temple looked cold
and dreary, for the deity was absent. "No one here!" "No one here but me," murmured Mrs. Powell, with an accent of mild
deprecation. "But where is my wife, ma'am?" He said those two small words, "my wife," with such a tone of resolute
defiance, that Mrs. Powell looked up at him as he spoke, and thought,
"He has seen the certificate." "I believe that Mrs. Mellish has gone out." I have not seen her
since." come, dear love! the secret has been discovered, and is forgiven." "Somebody knows where my wife has gone, I suppose, Mrs. "Mrs. Mellish may have made a confidante of Parsons," replied the
ensign's widow; "but she certainly did not enlighten _me_ as to her
intended movements. "If you please." It was not possible therefore to manipulate this letter
with any safety, and Mrs. Powell had contented herself by guessing
darkly at its contents. It was a letter of explanation and farewell, perhaps;
perhaps only of farewell. "My poor darling! He put the letter into his pocket, and took his hat from the table. He was going to town for a day or two, and he was going
alone. "The truth is, that I--I--find I shall be compelled to run up
to town by the mail." "Oh, dear no, not at all. He rose as he spoke, and pointed to a chair. "Mr. Where Aurora is concerned, I feel
very strongly. "You have merely anticipated my own intention, Mr. Mellish," she said. He did not let
her see his anguish. "I didn't mean what I wrote," she thought. "My poor boy would never
love me less. It
would be too painful for him. But she could not, she could
not! she thought. I
have never known him except as a lover; generous, pure, and true." Aurora did this. "I will go back to my father," she thought; "I will go back to him
again, as I went before. "I will abide by Talbot Bulstrode's advice," she kept saying to
herself; indeed, this thought was the only reed to which she clung in
her trouble. She had the generous,
impulsive nature which naturally turns to others for help and comfort. Her inclinations were fatted lambs, which she offered willingly upon
the altar of her idol. She loved,
and was beloved. "Who can it be, dear?" "Some annoyance or other, I dare say, my dear," answered Talbot. "But
whoever it is, I won't see them to-night. It
can't be, surely? Why, Talbot, she only went back to Yorkshire a few
days ago." "No, sir; Mrs. Mellish came alone in a cab from the station, I believe. I asked her to walk upstairs; but
she requested to see you alone, sir, if you please." "I'll come directly," answered Talbot. she said; "there must be something wrong, surely. Uncle
Archibald has been taken ill, perhaps; he was not looking well when
we left Felden. I'll go to her, Talbot; I'm sure she'd like to see me
first." His face was very grave, and his manner almost stern as he said
this. Lucy asked; "she is the best
and dearest girl in the world. Lucy asked meekly. pleaded
his wife. Stay here, Lucy,
till I send for you." "Yes, Talbot." She wanted to go to her cousin, and comfort her, if she
had need of comfort. It
was dimly lighted, for Aurora had lowered the lamp. "My dear Mrs. Mellish," said Talbot gravely, "I am so surprised at this
visit, that I scarcely know how to say I am glad to see you. "Mrs. Mellish! Mrs. "Oh, Talbot, Talbot!" answered Aurora, "I come to you because you are
good and honourable. I am a desolate, wretched woman, and I want your
help--I want your advice. I will abide by it; I will, Talbot Bulstrode;
so help me, Heaven." Her voice was broken by her sobs. "Aurora," he said, "for pity's sake, be calm. Be calm,
my dear girl, and I will try and understand you. Come, Aurora, try and be calm." She was still on her knees, sobbing hysterically. Yes, yes." "Oh, Talbot, how could I have told you this? I had no
romantic, overwhelming love for this man. cried Aurora scornfully. His talk was something to this effect, and I
believed him. I could never succeed in doing so, though I talked for a
week; I cannot account to myself for my madness. I can only look back
to that horrible time, and wonder why I was mad." I thought myself
cruelly treated. She buried her face in her hands, and was silent for some time. Within half an hour of obtaining
this knowledge, I acted upon it. You
understand all now, Talbot," she said mournfully. "Yes, yes; and the newspaper with the marked paragraph--the report of
the jockey's death." "That report was false, Talbot Bulstrode," cried Aurora. "What, he was still living, then?" "But where--where has he been all this time?" "Teach me how to do what is best for my dear love," she said. "Don't
think of me or my happiness, Talbot; think only of him. "How many people know this secret, Aurora?" he asked presently. "I can't tell you that; but I fear it must be very generally known,"
answered Mrs. Mellish, with a shuddering recollection of the "Softy's"
insolence. "No, not the least idea." "No." I'm afraid Mrs. Bulstrode must have been lurking somewhere about the
outside of the drawing-room door, for she flew down the stairs at the
sound of the strong voice, and was by her husband's side two or three
seconds after he had spoken. I thought you would
never send for me. Don't
ask her any questions, Lucy; but make her as comfortable as you can,
and give her the best room you can find for her. Yes, bravely!" he added, raising his head with an almost
defiant gesture as he slowly ascended the stairs. For the first time in her
life, poor gentle Lucy took a new position with her cousin. To
what end were his labours, after all? "You needn't pull her mouth to pieces, my man," cried a voice from the
doorway of the hotel; "use her gently, and she'll soon quiet herself. Steady, my girl; steady!" added the owner of this voice, walking to the
dog-cart as he spoke. He was going to spring into the dog-cart, when his old friend tapped
him on the shoulder. "Don't hinder me, please," he said; "I'll talk to you by-and-by. "You needn't go to Felden," he said; "your wife's much nearer." Come and have some breakfast." "She came to me for advice, John. She wanted me to advise her how to
act for your happiness,--yours, you great Yorkshireman, and not her
own." "I will abide by Talbot's decision," she repeated to herself again and
again. I will be true in what I
do, and will do it thoroughly." Go back,
go back! Let _me_ be your guide. Go back, go back!" "Love me and pity me, dear," Aurora answered, gravely; "but don't ask
me any questions." But listen, dear; I think there's
some one with him." For they were happy. "You asked me for my advice, Aurora," said Talbot, "and I bring it you. The future is
not yours to dispose of; it belongs to your husband, John Mellish." He talked perpetually, and
devoured incongruous viands in utter absence of mind. ON THE WATCH. "I must speak to you alone, papa," she said; "but John knows all I have
to say. There are no secrets between us now. "I told you a story, father," she said, "when I told you that my
husband was dead. I suppose good never can come
out of evil, for I have been bitterly punished for my sin. "It is all over now, dear father," she said; "it is all over. The man
is dead. I will tell you how he died by-and-by. It is all over. John
knows all; and I am to marry him again. It was not a pleasant story, this story of murder and violence
and treachery within the boundary of his daughter's home. the banker asked. John shrugged his shoulders. asked Mr. Floyd. "Goodness knows whether he had or not," John answered carelessly; "but
I should think it wasn't likely he had much. I'm afraid the children dropped lower curtsies in the pathway of Mr.
Floyd than even before the Vicar of Beckenham; for they had learned to
associate the image of the banker with buns and tea, with sixpences
and oranges, gambols on the smooth lawn at Felden Woods, and jovial
feasts in monster tents to the music of clashing brazen bands, and with
even greater treats in the way of excursions to a Crystal Palace on a
hill, an enchanted fairyland of wonders, from which it was delicious to
return in the dewy evening, singing hymns of rejoicing that shook the
vans in which they travelled. There are natures which accept suffering with patient
meekness, and acknowledge the justice by which they suffer; but Aurora
had never done this. "Don't
mistake me, my darling. What shall we do, my darling, to deserve the blessings God
has given us so freely; the blessings of youth and strength, and love
and wealth? What shall we do, dear? "No," shouted Mr. Mellish emphatically. No shadow of contempt had
ever grown out of his familiarity with her. "You will come up to town, and be present at the marriage, sir, I
know," John whispered, as he took his father-in-law's hand. Nobody will be any the wiser,
and Aurora and I will go back to Mellish as quietly as possible. "I must shut up this place," he thought, "and go to Mellish to finish
my days. "What is it, Forbes?" he asked. So he says, 'All right,' and
drives off." "He left no message, then?" "No, sir. Aurora asked, as they left the gates. "Goodness knows, my dear," John answered carelessly. "Somebody on
racing business, perhaps." "Ah, how indeed, Lolly!" "He chanced it, I
suppose. The
vehicle had been behind them all the way from Felden, but had kept at a
very respectful distance until now. John asked. "The West End." You can
keep us in sight, I suppose?" "Yes, sir, and thank ye." "All right, then." "I was right, Lolly," Mr. Mellish said, as he left the dog-cart behind. "How do you mean, dear?" asked Aurora. No: she had not listened to the man, nor heeded him. "Then they followed you into town, John?" he said finally. asked Talbot. "Well, I fancy so; they're on the look-out for information, I expect. If by any chance there should be some further disturbance about
this murder, it will be much better for you, and Aurora too, to be on
the spot. "Allow you, my dear Talbot!" "I _will_ come, then. Good-bye, and God bless you! Take care of your
wife." He took up his abode at this place, in which he was known
and respected. No, no, no! He might have set his mind at rest, perhaps, before this, had he
chosen. There
was perhaps some enormous reward offered for his apprehension, and a
word or a look might betray him to the greedy eyes of those upon the
watch to obtain it. Remember that this broad-shouldered seafaring man was as ignorant as a
child of all things beyond the deck of his own vessel, and the watery
high-roads he had been wont to navigate. It tries to fix
the murder upon some one in the house, but it don't exactly name the
party. It wouldn't be safe to do that yet awhile, I suppose." Who was he? She
was a woman, she was, and a handsome one, too; but she was more than
a match for James, with all his brass. "She was a tartar," answered the dog-fancier: "but she was the right
sort, too, for all that; and what's more, she was a kind friend to me. It was not likely, however,
that the man had seen the captain. We've been talking of the murder, Steeve,"
he added, in a conciliatory manner. "Ay, sure," he said; "folks don't seem to me to talk about owght else. "Are you stayin' up town, Steeve?" asked the landlord, who seemed to be
upon pretty intimate terms with the late hanger-on of Mellish Park. I think what they
think. asked some one. whispered the "Softy." No one answered. whispered the "Softy." Who was this?" Again there was no answer. "Well, in a manner of speaking, she was his wife," he said at last,
rather reluctantly. "She was a bit above him, loike--wasn't she?" asked the "Softy." It's my sister Eliza's
child you want to slander, is it? Let me go, and I'll show it to you." asked the "Softy." "Yes." The murdered man had thrown it
carelessly aside after reading it, and it had been picked up by Stephen
Hargraves. he asked. "Ay, sure; but she did though," answered the "Softy." "But, coom, let
me go now, will you?" he added, with cringing civility; "I didn't know
you was her uncle. I didn't say anything at the inquest, did I? CHAPTER IX. We are the slaves of such associations, and we are
powerless to stand against their silent force. The murder has been done, and
the hands are red. "I'll
pull the place down, my pet. Aurora
asked. "To-morrow, dear!--to-morrow is Wednesday, you know. It was upon
Thursday night that----"
"Yes, yes," she answered, interrupting him. "I know; I know." It was not strange, then, that the servants sat long over their
meals, and talked in solemn whispers of the events of the past week. It was all very well for John to give out that his wife
had gone up to town upon a visit to her cousin, Mrs. Bulstrode. Had not Mrs. Powell said as much, or
hinted as much? The matter was obvious. "But there was naught o' sort between her and the trainer, was there?" asked some one. "My poor darling, I was a fool to bring you back. He said that if there should be any disturbance about the
murder, we ought to be upon the spot." cried Aurora. Her face blanched as she spoke, and her heart sank within her. "Oh, John, John!" "A pistol, sir. John." It was small enough for a toy, but
none the less deadly in a skilful hand. It was rusty, from
exposure to rain and dew; but Mr. Mellish knew the pistol well, for it
was his own. CHAPTER X. UNDER A CLOUD. I was not tender enough. I thought of
myself rather than of her, and of her sorrow. There
was no infidelity to Lucy in this thought. If any trouble, which
no one yet foresees, should come upon her, I want to be her friend. Do
you think I am right in wishing this, dear?" "Right, Talbot!" "She is in
the morning-room, I dare say." So Lucy was fain to remain where she was. The
blazing sunshine burst into the room, and drowned it in light. "The--the man is buried, I suppose, Talbot?" "I believe so, my dear." "You are not well, Mrs. Mellish," he said, as he took her hand. "No, not very well. "I--I--don't know," she stammered. I'll send for him." "No, no," Talbot said, intercepting her hand on its way to the bell. "Lucy is a great deal more likely to find out what is the matter than
I am," he thought. he said. It was half-past
three, an hour after the usual time for luncheon at Mellish. "I've been in the stables all the morning," he said. "I--I hardly know. You
have something on your mind, and you are trying to hide it from me." "I have something on my mind, Talbot," he said quietly. "If you could
help me, I'd ask your help more than any man's. "Suppose
I mean to try and do so, whether you will or no? Have you no mercy upon me, Talbot Bulstrode? Talbot was perfectly right;
Lucy had accomplished that which he would have failed to bring about. "Ceased to love you, dear!" "It is true, Lucy," answered Mrs. Mellish, despairingly. "He has ceased
to love me. It is very bitter for me to bear, Lucy; for I
thought we should be so happy and united. But--but it is only natural. "Avoids you, dear?" "Yes, avoids me. "Aurora, all this is impossible," remonstrated Lucy. "It is your own
morbid fancy, darling." cried Aurora bitterly. If these things are my fancy,
Heaven have mercy upon me, Lucy; for I must be going mad." "Oh, my love, my love!" "You thought what, dear?" Don't look
so sorrowful, my darling. He stood before his friend,
pale, silent, and sullen. cried Talbot, "we were little boys together at Rugby, and
have backed each other in a dozen childish fights. "John, why do you refuse to trust me?" "Put on your hat, and come out with me. cried Talbot suddenly, "am I to think you a coward and
a fool? I know what your trouble is,
poor old friend, and I know that you have no cause for it. Hold up your
head, man, and look straightforward to a happy future. "No, no," he gasped; "who said so--who said----?" But I never dreamt of this. cried John
vehemently. interrupted Talbot. Talbot, why do you wring these things from me?" "Do not be afraid to be
candid with me, John. he cried passionately. "Ah, my love, my dear, what a wretch I have been to you! "I saw that pistol upon the day of the murder," he said. When I came back--I----"
"Well, what then?" "You argue, therefore, that your wife took the pistol?" "No one else had permission to go into the room," he answered. "To be sure! But the room is not locked, I suppose?" "Oh, yes, very often. Some
reporter, I suppose, come to pick up information." "This is the place, I think, gentlemen?" he said, in a frank and rather
free-and-easy manner. "If you mean the place where the murder was committed, it is," he said. The man shook his head, with a quiet smile. Mellish." "You're a lawyer, I suppose?" he said. "It's a quarter-past six," he said. "Certainly, sir. At nine this evening." Good afternoon." CHAPTER XI. REUNION. Why does she avoid
me, Talbot? "Shall I tell you why, you foolish John?" cried John. she ought to know that, if
I could give my life for her fifty times over, I would do it, to save
her one pang. "I will do what you like, Talbot; I will do what you like." my own dear love, my own poor darling!" "You will frighten
your wife if you go on in this manner, John," he said quietly. "You
mustn't take any notice of his agitation, my dear Mrs. Mellish. There
is no cause, believe me, for all this outcry. It was all over, and her faithful husband loved
her as devotedly and tenderly as ever. Aurora looked wonderingly at her husband, not at Talbot. "Yes, yes; but what of that?" "My dear Mrs. Mellish, my dear Aurora! There are some people who think that
you are guilty of this crime!" "I did, my dear," he murmured--"God forgive me for my wicked folly--I
did think this, Aurora. My love has never changed, Aurora; my love has
never changed." She gave him her hand, and once more resumed her seat. No shadow of slander must rest upon this house, or upon those
who live in it. It is necessary, therefore, imperatively necessary,
that the real murderer should be found. Will you help us, Aurora?" "I was there to meet the dead man." Remember this, when you blame me most. cried Talbot eagerly. "I did. "Yes." "No--yes; I believe there was a little silver," Mr. Mellish answered
vaguely. cried Talbot contemptuously. "No; in notes." asked John. asked Aurora. You talked
about the money, I suppose?" "Yes." But stay,--one word,
Aurora. "No," answered Mr. Mellish decisively; "not one." You, John, declare that very pistol to have been
in your possession upon the morning before the murder." "Most certainly." "No," Mrs. Mellish answered; "I should not have known it from the
others." "Oh, no," Aurora answered immediately; "Mrs. Powell came into the room
while I was there. "You were talking to him? "Yes; he brought me a message from the murdered man, and took back my
answer." "Yes; I found him there when I went in, expecting to find John. For any practical purpose, he might as well have been in his
own room. "Mrs. Mellish had the notes from her father," he said. This reward to be given by Mr. Mellish, and
to be over and above any reward offered by the Government. CHAPTER XII. THE BRASS BUTTON BY CROSBY, BIRMINGHAM. Mellish." "Perhaps not," muttered Mr. Hargraves, with a frown darkening over his
ugly face; "but Mellish Park be no pleace for me now, and arnt been for
a long time past." "If this man has
got any weskits, I'll have a look at 'em." he inquired
at last. "These are the goods," he said; "and very tasty and lively things they
are, too. The back
of the brass buttons bore the name of Crosby, Birmingham. "I have." asked the
detective. Think it over, now, and take your time. "No; I didn't," answered the pawnbroker after a pause. "You can tell me the gardener's name, I suppose?" "Yes; his name's Dawson. He belongs to Doncaster, and he and I were
boys together. murmured Talbot Bulstrode, reverently. Mellish?" said the detective. "I have," answered John: "but, Lord have mercy upon us! I should like to see this man Dawson,
if it's convenient." asked John. "I've set my heart upon seeing him to-night, if it's all the
same to you." "Yes," Talbot answered. "Ay, sure, sir. "You gave it away, then?" "Stay, though; I may as well ask you one more question. "Not one on 'em," answered the gardener, decisively. "But the less
said, the better, just yet awhile. CHAPTER XIII. OFF THE SCENT. He had paid for all he had had,
and spent more than it was usual for him to spend, drinking a good
deal harder than had been his habit heretofore; but he had paid in
silver, except on one occasion, when he had changed a sovereign. "It's no good," he thought. "I don't like to be beat," he thought; "I don't like to be beat." It was not much, certainly. He had paid for his bit of victuals as he had it,
but had not spent a shilling a day. But it was not
so. For the outlaw of society, the code of
honour is null and void. It was market-day too, and the town was crowded with noisy country
people. "Chivers never did sell me," he thought, "and surely he won't do it
now. he continued, hoarse with
agitation. You'd guess
why, if you weren't a fool. Now tell me all about it, can't you?" "It aint much to tell," the humble follower gasped, his respiratory
functions sadly tried by the pace at which his superior went over the
ground. "It aint much. "If there's anybody to lay blame on, it aint me," he said mildly. he cried impatiently. "I wouldn't cry out before I
was hurt, if I were you." asked Mr. Grimstone of the
penitent Chivers. "I dare say it _is_ an hour," muttered the detective. he asked. "Just about." "Yes." "Half an hour ago," muttered the detective. Secrecy was, as we know, the principle upon which he conducted his
affairs. "Now, I'll tell you what, Tom," said Mr. Grimstone. If he is in Doncaster, I'm
jiggered if I don't find him." CHAPTER XIV. It was a weary and a bitter time. But until
the truth is out, you must remain here. If it was so, he did penance very cheerfully. There are things which are utterly unendurable to some people, but
which are not at all terrible in the eyes of others. There are people who cannot forget, and Talbot Bulstrode was one
of them. he said, with an impatient
sigh. said Mr.
Bulstrode, gravely. Talbot, I
_won't_ endure this any longer. "You may miss the man on the road, John," he said. "He came last night
after dark, and may come as late to-night. You're as
likely to miss him as not." "Will you ride into the town, Talbot?" he said. "Upon my word, it's
very kind of you to propose it. I'm afraid I'm a great nuisance
to you, Bulstrode." "Not a bit of it," answered Talbot, with a smile. "To be sure; you shall have Red Rover, my covert hack. We'll go round
to the stables, and see about him at once." "You keep your heart up, and tell Mr.
Mellish to keep his heart up, and trust in me." It was not much, certainly; but he determined to make the best
of it to John Mellish. Every hour, every
moment, was of vital importance. and not for her alone, but
for every one who loved her, or had any share in her history! But it's late, too, for
any of them to be at work." "What, in
Heaven's name, could be his motive in coming here?" Talbot was right. asked Mr. Bulstrode, sternly; "and why did
you come in at the window?" "It is my business. "Perhaps not; but you have come after something, and I insist upon
knowing what it is. What have you got there?" What have you got there, in that bundle under your
arm?" "It's nowght to you, nor to anybody else," he muttered sulkily. Let me see the clothes." "No, I won't; they're nowght to you. Let me see it." he cried. "You were pretty nigh done for, mate, when
I came aboard. "I can't thank you now," Talbot answered hurriedly; "there'll be time
enough for that by-and-by." "Yes, a good deal presently; but I must find this waistcoat first. Where did he put it, I wonder? Stay, I'd better try and get a light. "It's the money," cried Talbot Bulstrode. "Ay, ay! But we've got him now. Talbot waited very quietly while he was gone. * * * * *
L'ENVOI. The end
has come. THE END.