Chapter 89
Yes. They were all in order, all right. With those flouris.h.i.+ng statements before him, how could he have been so foolish as to cast suspicion on George? Thomas had a pen in one hand, and the fore-finger of the other pointed to the page, when his face went white as one in mortal agony, and drops of moisture broke out upon his brow.
The same pain, which had taken him occasionally before, had come to him again. Mortal agony in verity it seemed. He dropped the pen; he lay back in his chair; he thought he must have fallen to the ground. How long he so lay he could not quite tell: not very long probably, counted by minutes; but counted by pain long enough for a lifetime. Isaac Hastings, coming in with a message, found him. Isaac stood aghast.
"I am not very well, Isaac. Give me your arm. I will go and sit for a little time in the dining-room."
"Shall I run over for Mr. Snow, sir?"
"No. I shall be better soon. In fact, I am better, or I could not talk to you. It was a sudden paroxysm."
He leaned upon Isaac Hastings, and reached the dining-room. It was empty. Isaac left him there, and proceeded, unordered, to acquaint Mr.
George G.o.dolphin. He could not find him.
"Mr. George has gone out," said a clerk. "Not two minutes ago."
"I had better tell Maria, then," thought Isaac. "He does not look fit to be left alone."
Speeding up to Maria's sitting-room, he found her there, talking to Margery. Miss Meta, in a cool brown-holland dress and a large straw hat, was dancing about in glee. She danced up to him.
"I am going to the hayfield," said she. "Will you come?"
"Don't I wish I could!" he replied, catching her up in his arms. "It is fine to be Miss Meta G.o.dolphin! to have nothing to do all day but roll in the hay."
She struggled to get down. Margery was waiting to depart. A terrible thing if Margery should have all the rolling to herself and Meta be left behind! They went out, and he turned to his sister.
"Maria, Mr. G.o.dolphin is in the dining-room, ill. I thought I would come and tell you. He looks too ill to be left alone."
"What is the matter with him?" she asked.
"A sudden pain," he said. "I happened to go into his room with a message, and saw him. I almost thought he was dead at first; he looked so ghastly."
Maria hastened down. Thomas, better then, but looking fearfully ill still, was leaning upon the arm of a couch. Maria went up and took his hand.
"Oh, Thomas, you look very ill! What is it?"
He gazed into her face with a serene countenance, a quiet smile. "It is only another of my warnings, Maria. I have been so much better that I am not sure but I thought they had gone for good."
Maria drew forward a chair and sat down by him. "Warnings?" she repeated.
"Of the end. You must be aware, Maria, that I am attacked with a fatal malady."
Maria was not quite unaware of it, but she had never understood that a fatal termination was inevitable. She did not know
"Nothing."
Her eyes glistened with the rising tears. "Oh, Thomas! you must not die!
We could none of us bear to lose you. George could not do without you; Janet could not; I think I could not."
He gently shook his head. "We may not pick and choose, Maria--who shall be left here, and who be taken. Those go sometimes who, seemingly, can be least spared."
She could scarcely speak; afraid lest her sobs should come, for her heart was aching. "But surely it is not to be speedy?" she murmured.
"You may live on a long while yet?"
"The doctors tell me I may live on for years, if I keep myself quiet. I think they are wrong."
"Oh, Thomas, then, you surely will!" she eagerly said, her cheek flus.h.i.+ng with emotion. "Who can have tranquillity if you cannot?"
How ignorant they both were of the dark cloud looming overhead, ready even then to burst and send forth its torrent! Tranquillity!
Tranquillity henceforth for Thomas G.o.dolphin!
CHAPTER XVII.
GONE!
The days pa.s.sed on to a certain Sat.u.r.day. An ominous Sat.u.r.day for the G.o.dolphins. Rumours, vague at the best, and therefore all the more dangerous, had been spreading in Prior's Ash and its neighbourhood. Some said the Bank had had a loss; some said the Bank was shaky; some said Mr. George G.o.dolphin had been lending money from the Bank funds; some said their London agents had failed; some actually said that Thomas G.o.dolphin was _dead_. The various turns taken by the rumour were extravagantly marvellous: but the whole, combined, whispered ominously of danger. Only let public fear be thoroughly aroused, and it would be all over. It was as a train of powder laid, which only wants one touch of a lighted match to set it exploding.
Remittances arrived on the Sat.u.r.day morning, in the ordinary course of business. Valuable remittances. Sufficient for the usual demands of the day: but not sufficient for any unusual demands. On the Friday afternoon a somewhat untoward incident had occurred. A stranger presented himself at the Bank and demanded to see Mr. George G.o.dolphin. The clerk to whom he addressed himself left him standing at the counter and went away: to acquaint, as the stranger supposed, Mr. George G.o.dolphin: but, in point of fact, the clerk was not sure whether Mr. George was in or out.
Finding he was out, he told Mr. Hurde, who went forward: and was taken by the stranger for Mr. George G.o.dolphin. Not personally knowing (as it would appear) Mr. George G.o.dolphin, it was a natural enough mistake. A staid old gentleman, in spectacles, might well be supposed by a stranger to be one of the firm.
"I have a claim upon you," said the stranger, drawing a piece of paper out of his pocket. "Will you be so good as to settle it?"
Mr. Hurde took the paper and glanced over it. It was an accepted bill, George G.o.dolphin's name to it.
"I cannot say anything about this," Mr. Hurde was beginning: but the applicant interrupted him.
"I don't want anything _said_. I want it paid."
"You should have heard me out," rejoined Mr. Hurde. "I cannot say or do anything in this myself: you must see Mr. George G.o.dolphin. He is out, but----"
"Come, none of that gammon!" interposed the stranger again, who appeared to have come prepared to enter upon a contest. "I was warned there'd be a bother over it: that Mr. George G.o.dolphin would deny himself, and say black was white, if necessary. You can't do _me_, Mr. George G.o.dolphin."
"You are not taking me for Mr. George G.o.dolphin?" exclaimed the old clerk, uncertain whether to believe his ears.
"Yes, I am taking you for Mr. George G.o.dolphin," doggedly returned the man. "Will you take up this bill?"
"I am _not_ Mr. George G.o.dolphin. Mr. George G.o.dolphin will be in presently, and you can see him."
"It's a do," cried the stranger. "I want this paid. I know the claims there are against Mr. George G.o.dolphin, and I have come all the way from town to enforce mine. _I_ don't want to come in with the ruck of his creditors, who'll get a sixpence in the pound, maybe."
A very charming announcement to be made in a banking-house. The clerks p.r.i.c.ked up their ears; the two or three customers who were present turned round from the counters and listened for more: for the civil gentleman had not deemed it necessary to speak in a subdued tone. Mr.
Hurde, scared out of his propriety, in mortal fear lest anything worse might come, hurried the man to a safe place, and left him there to await the entrance of Mr. George G.o.dolphin.
Whether this incident, mentioned outside (as it was sure to be), put the finis.h.i.+ng touch to the rumours already in circulation, cannot be known.
Neither was it known to those interested, what Mr. George did with his loud and uncompromising customer, when he at length entered and admitted him to an interview. It is possible that but for this untoward application, the crash might not have come quite so soon.