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"Poor old Susan."
"No!"
"Yes; she died the second week you were away."
"Poor old soul! She nearly sent me to glory, but I bear her no grudge."
"Did you find out, Gerald, whether her husband was really murdered after all?"
"Not only that, Tessie, but I found who were his two murderers."
"Are they arrested?"
"They were arrested by the hand of death. No earthly judge and jury will try them. They have to toe the mark before the Judge of All."
"Dead?"
"Yes, and that is all we will say about it. We don't want to talk of death now, Tessie, but of life, the life which is before us, the life which you and I are going to travel in double harness. The life----"
"Take your arm away, Gerald. There's the farm, and mother and father are standing at the door."
"Hip, hip, hooray, farmer!"
"Come right in, lad, come right in. You, Jim, look after the mare."
"Mother-in-law, give me a kiss."
"I'm sure----"
"It's right, farmer, isn't it? She can kiss her future son-in-law in safety, can't she? I bring you home nineteen thousand pounds, and Tessie and I enter into partners.h.i.+p till death doth us part. Isn't that the bond?"
"Every word of it, sonny, every word. But that money, where is it?"
"Here, right here, farmer; on my beating, palpitating, manly bosom.
Mother-in-law that is to be, give me your scissors. No, take 'em yourself. Undo the st.i.tches. There. That's it. 'Open sesame' and out she rolls.
"Brown paper parcel tied with twine. Don't look worth nineteen thousand pounds, does it, farmer? Open the packet, and you will see a sight for sore eyes. Nineteen crisp, crackling, rustling Bank of England notes for a thousand pounds each!"
The trembling fingers of the farmer gripped the scissors, and he cut the twine. Then he tore off the brown paper and revealed--a piece of folded newspaper!
For a moment there was a silence, but in that moment a great change came over those present.
All the hilarity left Gerald. He stood looking at the packet with surely the whitest face that ever living man bore. The farmer's clouded to the pitch of blackness, and, bringing his hand down on the table with a force which made the crockery on the dresser ring again, he blurted out:
"What d.a.m.ned fool's game is this, anyhow?"
CHAPTER x.x.xIII
THIEF!
Gerald never moved, never took his eyes off that packet, never answered.
Then he walked closer to it, picked it up, dropped it, and sank into a chair, still a white faced, speechless man.
The farmer watched him for a whole minute. Then he sneeringly remarked:
"Been robbed of the money, eh?"
Gerald had to moisten his lips before he could e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.e the word:
"Yes."
Then the farmer laughed, but it was not a pleasant laugh.
He rose to his feet and pointed to the door. He uttered but one word:
"Go!"
"Father!"
"Silence, girl! and stand aside from that lying cheat."
"Cheat!"
Gerald spoke the last word. There was an air of unnatural calm about the farmer, as he answered:
"Cheat! Fraud! Liar! Bunco-steerer; we're a long way from the sheriff, or, by the G.o.d that's in the heaven above, I'd lodge you in jail to-night."
"Lodge--me--in--jail!"
"For robbing me of fifty pounds."
"Robbing!"
"Do you think I don't see through your trickery? Do you take me for a hayseed because I'm a farmer? Do you think I believe a word of what you say?
"Tell me--tell me again that you had nineteen thousand pounds in that vest of yours, and that you've been robbed of it."
"I sewed--it--in--myself."
Again the farmer laughed--that unpleasant laugh of his.