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Barbara smoothed out the writing, and held it before her mother. It was as follows:--
"I have had a curious note from R. It was without date or signature, but I knew his handwriting. He tells me to let you know, in the most sure and private manner that I can, that he will soon be paying another night visit. You are to watch the grove every evening when the present moon gets bright."
Mrs. Hare covered her face for some minutes. "Thank G.o.d for all his mercies," she murmured.
"Oh, mamma, but it is an awful risk for him to run!"
"But to know that he is in life--to know that he is in life! And for the risk--Barbara, I dread it not. The same G.o.d who protected him through the last visit, will protect him through this. He will not forsake the oppressed, the innocent. Destroy the paper, child."
"Archibald Carlyle must first see it, mamma."
"I shall not be easy until it is destroyed, Barbara."
Braving the comments of the gossips, hoping the visit would not reach the ears or eyes of the justice, Barbara went that day to the office of Mr. Carlyle. He was not there, he was at West Lynne; he had gone to Lynneborough on business, and Mr. Dill thought it a question if he would be at the office again that day. If so, it would be late in the afternoon. Barbara, as soon as their own dinner was over, took up her patient station at the gate, hoping to see him pa.s.s; but the time went by and he did not. She had little doubt that he had returned home without going to West Lynne.
What should she do? "Go up to East Lynne and see him," said her conscience. Barbara's mind was in a strangely excited state. It appeared to her that this visit of Richard's must have been specially designed by Providence, that he might be confronted by Thorn.
"Mamma," she said, returning indoors, after seeing the justice depart upon an evening visit to the Buck's Head, where he and certain other justices and gentlemen sometimes congregated to smoke and chat, "I shall go up to East Lynne, if you have no objection. I must see Mr. Carlyle."
Away went Barbara. It had struck seven when she arrived at East Lynne.
"Is Mr. Carlyle disengaged?"
"Mr. Carlyle is not yet home, miss. My lady and Miss Carlyle are waiting dinner for him."
A check for Barbara. The servant asked her to walk in, but she declined and turned from the door. She was in no mood for visit paying.
Lady Isabel had been standing at the window watching for her husband and wondering what made him so late. She observed Barbara approach the house, and saw her walk away again. Presently the servant who had answered the door, entered the drawing-room.
"Was not that Miss Hare?"
"Yes, my lady," was the man's reply. "She wanted master. I said your ladys.h.i.+p was at home, but she would not enter."
Isabel said no more; she caught the eyes of Francis Levison fixed on her with as much meaning, compa.s.sionate meaning, as they dared express. She clasped her hands in pain, and turned again to the window.
Barbara was slowly walking down the avenue, Mr. Carlyle was then in sight, walking quickly up it. Lady Isabel saw their hands meet in greeting.
"Oh, I am so thankful to have met you!" Barbara exclaimed to him, impulsively. "I actually went to your office to-day, and I have been now to your house. We have such news!"
"Ay! What? About Thorn?"
"No; about Richard," replied Barbara, taking the sc.r.a.p of paper from the folds of her dress. "This came to me this morning from Anne."
Mr. Carlyle took the doc.u.ment, and Barbara looked over him whilst he read it; neither of them thinking that Lady Isabel's jealous eyes, and Captain Levison's evil ones, were strained upon them from the distant windows. Miss Carlyle's also, for the matter of that.
"Archibald, it seems to me that Providence must be directing him hither at this moment. Our suspicions with regard to Thorn can now be set at rest. You must contrive that Richard shall see him. What can he be coming again for?"
"More money," was the supposition of Mr. Carlyle. "Does Mrs. Hare know of this?"
"She does, unfortunately. I opened the paper before her, never dreaming it was connected with Richard--poor, unhappy Richard!--and not to be guilty."
"He acted as though he were guilty, Barbara; and that line of conduct often entails as much trouble as real guilt."
"You do not believe him guilty?" she most pa.s.sionately uttered.
"I do not. I have little doubt of the guilt of Thorn."
"Oh, if it could but be brought home to him!" returned Barbara, "so that Richard might be cleared in the sight of day. How can you contrive that he shall see Thorn?"
"I cannot tell; I must think it over. Let me know the instant he arrives, Barbara."
"Of course I shall. It may be that he does not want money; that his errand is only to see mamma. He was always so fond of her."
"I must leave you," said Mr. Carlyle, taking her hand in token of farewell. Then, as a thought occurred to him, he turned and walked a few steps with her without releasing it. He was probably unconscious that he retained it; she was not.
"You know, Barbara, if he should want money, and it be not convenient to Mrs. Hare to supply it at so short a notice, I can give it to him, as I did before."
"Thank you, thank you, Archibald. Mamma felt sure you would."
She lifted her eyes to his with an expression of grat.i.tude; a warmer feeling for an uncontrolled moment mingled with it. Mr. Carlyle nodded pleasantly, and then set off toward his house at the pace of a steam engine.
Two minutes in his dressing-room, and he entered the drawing-room, apologizing for keeping them waiting dinner, and explaining that he had been compelled to go to his office to give some orders subsequent to his return to Lynneborough. Lady Isabel's lips were pressed together, and she preserved an obstinate silence. Mr. Carlyle, in his unsuspicion, did not notice it.
"What did Barbara Hare want?" demanded Miss Carlyle, during dinner.
"She wanted to see me on business," was his reply, given in a tone that certainly did not invite his sister to pursue the subject. "Will you take some more fish, Isabel?"
"What was that you were reading over with her?" pursued the indefatigable Miss Corny. "It looked like a note."
"Ah, that would be telling," returned Mr. Carlyle, willing to turn it off with gayety. "If young ladies choose to make me party to their love letters, I cannot betray confidence, you know."
"What rubbish Archibald!" quoth she. "As if you could not say outright what Barbara wants, without making a mystery of it. And she seems to be always wanting you now."
Mr. Carlyle glanced at his sister a quick, peculiar look; it seemed to her to speak both of seriousness and warning. Involuntarily her thoughts--and her fears--flew back to the past.
"Archibald, Archibald!" she uttered, repeating the name, as if she could not get any further words out in her dread. "It--it--is never--that old affair is never being raked up again?"
Now Miss Carlyle's "old affair" referred to one sole and sore point-- Richard Hare, and so Mr. Carlyle understood it. Lady Isabel unhappily believing that any "old affair" could only have reference to the bygone loves of her husband and Barbara.
"You will oblige me by going on with your dinner, Cornelia," gravely responded Mr. Carlyle. Then--a.s.suming a more laughing tone--"I tell you it is unreasonable to expect me to betray a young woman's secrets, although she may choose to confide them professionally to me. What say you, Captain Levison?"
The gentleman addressed bowed, a smile of mockery, all too perceptible to Lady Isabel, on his lips. And Miss Carlyle bent her head over her plate, and went on with her dinner as meek as any lamb.
That same evening, Lady Isabel's indignant and rebellious heart condescended to speak of it when alone with her husband.
"What is it that she wants with you so much, that Barbara Hare?"
"It is private business, Isabel. She has to bring me messages from her mother."