The Story of Antony Grace Part 102

But the next moment my mind was made up, and, drawing her arm through mine, and trying with a look to infuse some of my a.s.surance, I walked with her into the house, and into the apparently strangely dwarfed sitting-room.

"Who's that?" cried a peevish voice. "I want my coffee, Hetty. It's very late. Has the post come in? Who's that, I say, who's that?"

I stared in astonishment at the little withered yellow man with grizzly hair and sunken eyes, and asked myself--Is this the Mr Blakeford who used to make me shudder and shrink with dread?

I could not believe it, as I stood there five feet ten in my stockings, and broad-shouldered, while he, always below the middle height, had terribly shrunk away.

"Who is it, I say, Hetty? Who have you brought home?" he cried again in a querulous voice.

"It is I, Mr Blakeford," I said--"Antony Grace; and I have come to see if we cannot make friends."

He sank back in his chair, his jaw dropped, and his eyes dilated with dread; but as I approached with extended hand, he recovered somewhat, and held out his own as he struggled to his feet.

"How--how do you do?" he faltered; "I've been ill--very ill. My wife died. Hetty, my dear, quick, Mr Grace will have breakfast with us.

No, no, don't ring; fetch a cup yourself, my dear--fetch it yourself."

Hetty looked at him wonderingly, but she obeyed; and as the door closed upon her, Blakeford exclaimed, in quick trembling tones:

"She doesn't know--she knows nothing. Don't tell her. For G.o.d's sake don't tell her. Don't say you have."

"I have told her nothing, Mr Blakeford," I replied.

"Don't tell her, then. Bless her, I could not bear for her to know. I won't fight, Mr Grace, I won't fight. I'm a broken man. I'll make rest.i.tution, I will indeed; but for G.o.d's sake don't tell my child."

"Then he is not all bad," I thought, "for he does love her, and would be ashamed if she knew that he had been such a consummate villain."

And as I thought that, I recalled her brave defence of him years ago, and then wondered at the change as she entered the room.

I breakfasted with them, the old man--for, though not old in years, he was as much broken as one long past seventy--watching me eagerly, his hands trembling each time terribly as he raised his cup, while Hetty's every action, her tender solicitude for her father's wants, and the way in which she must have ignored every ill word that she had heard to his injury, filled me with delight.

He must have read my every word and look, for I have no doubt I was transparent enough, and then he must have read those of Hetty, simple, unconscious and sweet, for it did not seem to occur to her that any of the ordinary coquetries of the s.e.x were needed; and at last, when I roused myself to the fact that Tom Girtley must be waiting breakfast, it was nearly eleven, and I rose to go.

"You are not going, Mr Grace," said Hetty's father anxiously. "Don't go yet."

"I must, sir," I said, "but I will soon be back."

"Soon be back?" he said nervously.

"Yes, sir. And that business of ours. That settlement."

"Yes, yes," he said, with lips quivering, "it shall all be done. But don't talk about it now, not before Hetty here."

"I think Hetty, Mr Blakeford, will help the settlement most easily for us both, will you not, dear?" I said, and I drew her to my side.

"There, Mr Blakeford," I said, holding out my hand once more, "are we to be good friends?"

He tried to answer me, but no words came, and he sank back, quivering with nervous trepidation in his chair.

He was better, though, in a few minutes, and when I left him he clung to my hand, his last words being:

"I will make all right, I will give you no trouble now."

Tom Girtley laughed at me when I rejoined him and told him where I had been.

"This is a pretty way of doing business!" he exclaimed. "You play fast and loose with your solicitor, and end by coming down and compromising the case with the defendant. Really, Mr Grace, this is most reprehensible, and I shall wash my hands of the whole affair."

"Glad of it," said I, laughing. "A solicitor should always have clean hands."

We chatted on merrily as we walked, for we had started to go as far as my old home, where, as I pointed out to him the scene of many a happy hour, a feeling of sadness more painful than I had experienced for years seemed to oppress me, and it was not until I had once more left the old home far behind that I was able to shake it off.

When we returned to the hotel it was to find Mr Blakeford waiting for us, and to the utter surprise of both, we were soon put in possession of all that was necessary to give me that which was my own by right, but which he saw plainly enough that his child would share.

"I don't like to turn prophet, Tony," said my companion, "but I should say that our friend Blakeford is putting his affairs in order on account of a full belief that a summons is about to issue that he is soon to meet. Well, I congratulate you," he said, "and I don't wonder now why it was that I did not find we were rivals."

This was after we had spent one evening at Blakeford's; and in the morning, after a tender leave-taking, we were on our way back to London.

My presence was needed, for the test of the machine would take place next day, and I found Hallett had been taken so ill that all prospect of his attending the public trial had been swept away.

"It does not matter," he said to me quietly, when I was sitting with him, propped up in an easy-chair, beside Mrs Hallett. "It is better as it is, Antony, my dear boy. I shall not be there for the miserable scamps to pelt when the poor old idol breaks down again."

"Breaks down!" I cried exultingly; "I was there last night till after twelve, and there will be no tampering this time, for a policeman is on the watch, and Mr Jabez and Mr Peter were going to take turn and turn in the room all night, the one with a box full of snuff, and the other with a couple of ounces of tobacco, and the longest clay pipe I could get."

"'There's many a slip 'twixt cup and lip,'" he said, looking at me with a piteous smile upon his wasted face. "Antony, lad, inventors do not often reap much from the crops they sow, but there is the unselfish pleasure of helping others. If I do not prosper from my work others may. G.o.d bless you, lad! I believe I have a trusty friend in you, and one who will be true to my poor mother here and Linny."

"Why, my dear Hallett," I exclaimed, "what a doleful tone to take on this, the day of success. Come, come, come, you want a dose of good news. I'm off now, and the fastest cab shall luring me back the moment the verdict is p.r.o.nounced."

"'There's many a slip 'twixt cup and lip,'" he said again softly; and there was a strange and meaning smile upon his face.

"Out upon you, raven!" I cried merrily. "In two hours I'll be here with such news as shall bring the colour back in those white cheeks; and to-morrow you shall come down into the country with me. I shall ask for another fortnight, and you shall wander with me in the green fields, and we'll idle and rest, for when the work is done there should surely be some play."

He smiled and nodded.

"Yes," he said, "some rest."

I hurried away at the last, leaving Linny with him, and a more easy cheerful look upon his countenance, and soon after I was at Mr Ruddle's, to find all ready, our friends collected, and the invited people coming fast.

"'_Festina lente_' is a good motto, Grace," said old Mr Girtley, taking me by the b.u.t.ton. "A little more patience, and we should have had this right last time, though or course we could not guard against the accident. Ah, Tom," he continued, "how's parchment? I'd rather have seen you the schemer of this machine, my boy, than the winner of the most tangled legal case."

"Rather hard that, Tony, when I have just won you five hundred a year and a wife, eh?" said Tom, laughing; and then my attention was taken up in a dozen ways. There were the brothers Rowle to talk to; Mr Grimstone to shake my hand; Mr Ruddle to chat with about the success of the machine, and about Lister, concerning whom he made a significant motion, turning his hand into a drinking-vessel, and shaking his head.

Then there was a hitch. Everything was declared in readiness, when it was found that the shaft that ran through the building was ceasing to revolve.

It came like a black cloud over the proceedings, but it was only the stoker's neglect. Half an hour after, the steam was well up once more, and, with the room crowded, Mr Girtley, just as on the last occasion, gave the long leathern band a twitch; shaft was connected with shaft; a touch from a long lever tightened the driving-wheel and its fellow portion; there was a whirring, clanking noise, the spinning of wheels, the revolving of cylinders; ink-rollers ran round; the great reel of paper began to give its fair surface to the kiss of the type; the speed was increased, faster--faster--faster, and those who had shrunk back at first, as if expecting an accident, grew excited and drew in, while the ponderous machine, working as easily as a watch, turned off perfected newspaper sheets at a rate that seemed astounding.

There was no hesitation now; there were no doubting looks, but a hearty cheer arose, one that was taken up again on the staircase, and ran from room to room, till the girls, busy folding down below, joined their shrill voices merrily in the cry.

"Success, Tony!" cried Tom, catching my hand.

"And Hallett not here!" I cried.