Mrs. Halliburton's Troubles Part 110

CHAPTER XIV.

MR. DELVES ON HIS BEAM ENDS.

Samuel Lynn grew better, and Mr. Ashley, in his considerate kindness, proposed that he should reside abroad for a few months in the neighbourhood of Annonay, to watch the skin market, and pick up skins that would be suitable for their use. Anna and Patience were to accompany him. Anna had somewhat regained her footing in the good graces of the gossipers. That she did so, was partly owing to the indignant defence of her, entered upon by Herbert Dare. Herbert did behave well in this case, and he must have his due. Upon his return from London, whither he had gone soon after the termination of the trial, remaining away a week or two, he found what a very charitable ovation Helstonleigh was bestowing upon Anna Lynn. He met it with a storm of indignation; he bade them think as badly of him as they chose; believe him a second Burke if they liked; but to keep their mistaken tongues off Anna. What with one thing and another, some of the scandal-mongers did begin to think they had been too hasty, and withdrew their censure. Some (as a matter of course) preferred to doubt still; and opinions remained divided.

Helstonleigh took up the gossip on another score--that of Mr. Ashley's sending Samuel Lynn abroad, as his skin-buyer, for an indefinite period.

"A famous trade Ashley must be doing, to go to that expense!" grumbled some of the envious manufacturers. True; he _had_ a famous trade. And if he had not had one, he might have sent him all the same. Helstonleigh never knew the benevolence of Thomas Ashley's heart. The journey was fully decided upon; and Samuel Lynn had an application from a member of his own persuasion, to rent his house, furnished, for the term of his absence. He was glad to accept the accommodation.

But, before Mr. Lynn and his family started, Helstonleigh was fated to sustain another loss, in the person of Herbert Dare. Herbert contrived to get some sort of mission entrusted to _him_ abroad, and made rather a summary exit from Helstonleigh to enter upon it. A friend of Herbert's, who had gone over to live in Holland, and with whom he was in frequent correspondence, wrote and offered him a situation in a merchant's house in Rotterdam, as "English clerk." The offer came in answer to a hint, or perhaps more than a hint, from Herbert, that a year or two's sojourn abroad would be acceptable to him. He would receive a good salary, if he proved himself equal to the duties, the information stated, and might rise in it, if he chose to remain. Herbert wrote off-hand to secure it, and then told his father what he had done.

"Enter a house at Rotterdam, as English clerk!" repeated Mr. Dare, unable to credit his own ears. "_You_ a clerk!"

"What am I to do?" asked Herbert. "Since I came out of there," pointing in the direction of the county prison, "claims have thickened upon me. I do owe a good deal, and that's a fact--what with my own scores, and that for which I am liable for--for poor Anthony. People won't wait much longer; and I have no fancy to try the debtor's side of the prison."

They were standing in the front room of the office. Mr. Dare's business appeared to be considerably falling off, and the office had often leisure on its hands now. Of the two clerks kept, one had holiday, the other was out. Somehow, what with one untoward thing and another, people were growing shy of the Dares. Mr. Dare leaned against the corner of the window-frame, watching the pa.s.sers-by, his hands in his pockets, and a blank look on his face.

"You say you can't help me, sir?" Herbert continued.

"You know I can't; sufficiently to do any good," returned Mr. Dare. "I am too much pressed for money myself. Look at the expenses attending the trial: and I was embarra.s.sed enough before. I _cannot_ help you."

"It seems to me, too, that you want me gone from here."

"I have not said so," curtly responded Mr. Dare.

"You told me the other day that it was my presence in the office which scared clients from it."

Mr. Dare could not deny the fact. He _had_ said it. What's more, he had thought it; and did so still. "I cannot tell what else it is that is keeping clients away," he rejoined. "We have not had a dozen in since the trial."

"It is a slack season of the year."

"Maybe," shortly answered Mr. Dare. "Slack as it is, there's some business astir, but people are going elsewhere to get it done; those, too, who have never for years been near anyone but us. The truth is, Herbert, you fell into bad odour with the town on the day of the trial; and that you must know. Though acquitted of the murder, all sorts of other things were laid to your charge. Quaker Lynn's stroke amongst the rest."

"Carping sinners!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Herbert.

"And I suppose it turned people against the office," continued Mr.

Dare. "My belief is, they won't come back again as long as you are in it."

"That's precisely what I meant you had hinted to me" said Herbert.

"Therefore, I thought I had better leave it. Pattison says he can get me this berth, and I should like to try it."

"_You_'ll not like to turn merchant's clerk," repeated Mr. Dare with emphasis.

"I shall like it better than being nailed for debt here," somewhat coa.r.s.ely answered Herbert. "It is not so agreeable at home now, especially in this office, that I should cry to stay in it. You have changed, sir, amongst the rest: many a day through, you don't give me a civil word."

Again Mr. Dare felt that he _had_ changed to Herbert. When he found that he--Herbert--might have cleared himself at first from the terrible accusation of fratricide, had he so chosen, instead of allowing the obloquy to rest upon himself and his family for so long a period, he had become bitterly angry. Mrs. Dare and the whole family joined in the feeling, and Herbert suffered.

"As to civility, Herbert, I must first get over the soreness left by your conduct. You acted very badly in allowing the case to go on to trial. If you had no objection to sit down quietly under the crime yourself, you had no right to throw the disgrace and expense upon your family."

"If it were to come over again, I would not do so," acknowledged Herbert. "I thought then I was acting for the best."

"Pshaw!" was the peevish e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n of Mr. Dare.

"Altogether," resumed Herbert, "I think I had better go away. After a time, something or other may turn up to make things smoother here, and then I can come home again; unless I find a better opening abroad. I may do so; and I believe I shall like living there."

"Very well," said Mr. Dare, after some minutes' silence. "It may be for the best. At all events, it will give time for things here to blow over.

If you don't find it what you like, you can only return."

"I shall be sure not to return, unless I can square up some of my liabilities here," returned Herbert. "You must help me to get there, sir."

"What do you want?" asked Mr. Dare.

"Fifty pounds."

"I can't do it, Herbert," was the prompt answer.

"I must have it if I am to go," was Herbert's firm reply. "There are two or three trifles here which I will not leave unsettled, and I cannot go over there with pockets absolutely empty. Fifty pounds is not so great a sum, sir, to pay to get rid of me."

Old Anthony Dare knit his brow in perplexity. He supposed he must furnish the money, though he did not in the least see how it was to be done.

The matter settled, Herbert took his hat and went out. The first object his eyes alighted on outside was Sergeant Delves. That worthy, pacing through the town, had brought himself to an anchor opposite the office of Mr. Dare, and was regarding it, lost in a brown study. The sergeant was in a state of discomfiture, touching the affair of the late Anthony Dare. He had lost no time in "looking after" Miss Caroline Mason, as he had promised himself; and the sequence had been--defeat. Without any open stir on the part of the police--without allowing Caroline herself to know that she was doubted--the sergeant contrived to put himself in full possession of her movements on that night. The result proved that she must be exempt from the suspicion; or, as the sergeant expressed it, "was out of the hole;" and that gentleman remained at fault again.

Herbert crossed over to him. "What are you looking at, Delves?"

"I wasn't looking at anything in particular," was the answer. "Coming in sight of your office naturally brought my thoughts back to that unsatisfactory business. I never was so baffled before."

"It is very strange who it could have been," observed Herbert. "I often think of it."

"Never so baffled before," continued the sergeant, as if there had been no interruption to his own words. "I could almost have been upon oath at the time, that the murderer was in the house; hadn't left it. And yet----"

"You could have been upon oath that it was I," interrupted Herbert.

"That's true. I could. But you had yourself chiefly to thank for it, Mr.

Herbert Dare, through making a mystery of your movements that night.

After you were cleared, my mind turned to that girl; and that, I found, was no go."

"What girl?" interrupted Herbert.

"The one in Honey Fair: your brother Anthony's old sweetheart. It wasn't her, though; I have proofs. Charlotte East had her at her house that evening, and kept her till twelve o'clock, when she went home to bed in her garret. Charlotte's going to try to make something of her again. And now I am baffled, and I don't deny it."

"To suspect any girl is ridiculous," observed Herbert Dare. "No girl, it is to be hoped, would possess the courage or the strength to accomplish such a deed as that."

"You don't know 'em as we police do," nodded the sergeant. "I was asking your father only a day or two ago, whether he could make sure of his servants, that they had not been in it----"

"Of our servants?" interrupted Herbert, in surprise. "What an idea!"

"Well, I have gone round to my old opinion--that it _was_ some one in the house," returned the sergeant. "But it seems the servants are all on the square. I can't make it out."

"Why on earth should you suppose it to be any one in the house?"