East Lynne Part 103

Carlyle upon gratifying his revenge. I stir in it not, Richard."

"Couldn't Barbara?" pleaded Richard.

Barbara was standing with her arm entwined within her husband's, and Mr.

Carlyle looked down as he answered,--

"Barbara is my wife."

It was a sufficient answer.

"Then the thing's again at an end," said Richard, gloomily, "and I must give up hope of ever being cleared."

"By no means," said Mr. Carlyle. "The one who ought to act in this is your father, Richard; but we know he will not. Your mother cannot. She has neither health nor energy for it; and if she had a full supply of both, she would not dare to brave her husband and use them in the cause.

My hands are tied; Barbara's equally so, as part of me. There only remains yourself."

"And what can I do?" wailed poor d.i.c.k. "If your hands are tied, I'm sure my whole body is, speaking in comparison; hands, and legs, and neck.

It's in jeopardy, that is, every hour."

"Your acting in this affair need not put it any the more in jeopardy.

You must stay in the neighborhood for a few days--"

"I dare not," interposed Richard, in a fright. "Stay in the neighborhood for a few days! No; that I never may."

"Listen, Richard. You must put away these timorous fears, or else you must make up your mind to remain under the ban for good; and, remember, your mother's happiness is at stake equally with yours--I could almost say her life. Do you suppose I would advise you for danger? You used to say there was some place, a mile or two from this, where you could sojourn in safety."

"So there is. But I always feel safer when I get away from it."

"There your quarters must be, for two or three days at any rate. I have turned matters over in my own mind, and will tell you what I think should be done, so far as the preliminary step goes, though I do not interfere myself."

"Only the preliminary step! There must be a pretty many to follow it, sir, if it's to come to anything. Well, what is it?"

"Apply to Ball & Treadman, and get them to take it."

They were now slowly pacing the covered walk, Barbara on her husband's arm, Richard by the side of Mr. Carlyle. d.i.c.k stopped when he heard the last words.

"I don't understand you, Mr. Carlyle. You might as well advise me to go before the bench of magistrates at once. Ball & Treadman would walk me off there as soon as I showed myself."

"Nothing of the sort, Richard. I do not tell you to go openly to their office, as another client would. What I would advise is this--make a friend of Mr. Ball; he can be a good man and true, if he chooses; tell the whole story to him in a private place and interview, and ask him whether he will carry it through. If he is fully impressed with the conviction that you are innocent, as the facts appear to warrant, he will undertake it. Treadman need know nothing of the affair at first; and when Ball puts things in motion, he need not know that you are here, or where you are to be found."

"I don't dislike Ball," mused Richard, "and if he would only give his word to be true, I know he would be. The difficulty will be, who is to get the promise from him?"

"I will," said Mr. Carlyle. "I will so far pave the way for you. That done, my interference is over."

"How will he go about it, think you, if he does take it up?"

"That is his affair. I know how I should."

"How, sir?"

"You cannot expect me to say, Richard. I might as well act for you."

"I know. You'd go at it slap-dash, and arrest Levison offhand on the charge."

A smile parted Mr. Carlyle's lips, for d.i.c.k had just guessed it. But his countenance gave no clue by which anything could be gathered.

A thought flashed across Richard's mind; a thought which rose up on end even his false hair. "Mr. Carlyle," he uttered, in an accent of horror, "if Ball should take it up in that way against Levison, he must apply to the bench for a warrant."

"Well?" quietly returned Mr. Carlyle.

"And they'd send and clap me into prison. You know the warrant is always out against me."

"You'd never make a conjurer, Richard. I don't pretend to say, or guess at, what Ball's proceedings may be. But, in applying to the bench for a warrant against Levison--should that form part of them--is there any necessity for him to bring you in--to say: 'Gentlemen, Richard Hare is within reach, ready to be taken?' Your fears run away with your common sense, Richard."

"Ah, well, if you had lived with the cord around your neck this many a year, not knowing any one hour but it might get tied the next, you'd lose your common sense, too, at times," humbly sighed poor Richard.

"What's to be my first move, sir?"

"Your first move, Richard, must be to go to this place of concealment, which you know of, and remain quiet there until Monday. On Monday, at dusk, be here again. Meanwhile, I will see Ball. By the way, though, before speaking to Ball, I must hear from yourself that Thorn and Levison are one."

"I will go down to the Raven at once," eagerly cried Richard. "I'll come back here, to this walk, as soon as I have obtained sight of him." With the last words he turned, and was speeding off, when Barbara caught him.

"You will be so tired, Richard."

"Tired!" echoed Richard Hare. "A hundred miles on foot would not tire me if Thorn was at the end of them, waiting to be identified. I may not be back for two or three hours, but I will come, and wait here till you come out to me."

"You must be hungry and thirsty," returned Barbara, the tears in her eyes. "How I wish we dare have you in, and shelter you. But I can manage to bring some refreshments out here."

"I don't require it, Barbara. I left the train at the station next before West Lynne, and dropped into a roadside public house as I walked, and got a good supper. Let me go, dear, I am all in a fever."

Richard departed, reached the part of West Lynne where the Raven was situated, and was so far favored by fortune that he had not long to wait. Scarcely had he taken up his lounge outside, when two gentlemen came forth from it, arm-in-arm. Being the headquarters of one of the candidates, the idlers of the place thought they could not do better than make it their headquarters also, and the road and pavement were never free from loitering starers and gossipers. Richard Hare, his hat well over his eyes, and his black ringlets made the most of, only added one to the rest.

Two gentlemen came forth, arm-in-arm. The loiterers raised a feeble shout of "Levison forever!" Richard did not join in the shout, but his pulses were beating, and his heart leaped up within him. The one was Thorn; the other the gentleman he had seen with Thorn in London, pointed out to him--as he had believed--as Sir Francis Levison.

"Which of those two is Levison?" he inquired of a man near whom he stood.

"Don't you know him? Him with the hat off, bowing his thanks to us, is Levison."

No need to inquire further. It was the Thorn of Richard's memory. His ungloved hand, raised to his hat, was as white as ever; more sparkling than ever, as it flashed in the street gaslight, was the diamond ring.

By the hand and ring alone Richard would have sworn to the man, had it been needful.

"Who is the other one?" he continued.

"Some gent as came down from London with him. His name's Drake. Be you yellow, sailor, or be you scarlet-and-purple?"

"I am neither. I am only a stranger, pa.s.sing through the town."

"On the tramp?"

"Tramp? No." And Richard moved away, to make the best of his progress to East Lynne and report to Mr. Carlyle.