The Moorland Cottage Part 11

"Well, well! it's over now, you see. I was frightened enough myself this morning, I own; and then you were brave and kind. But I knew you could save me, all along."

At this moment the door opened, and Mrs. Browne came in.

"Why, Edward, dear! who would have thought of seeing you! This is good of you; what a pleasant surprise! I often said, you might come over for a day from Woodchester. What's the matter, Maggie, you look so f.a.gged? She's losing all her beauty, is not she, Edward? Where's breakfast? I thought I should find all ready. What's the matter? Why don't you speak?" said she, growing anxious at their silence. Maggie left the explanation to Edward.

"Mother," said he, "I've been rather a naughty boy, and got into some trouble; but Maggie is going to help me out of it, like a good sister."

"What is it?" said Mrs. Browne, looking bewildered and uneasy.

"Oh--I took a little liberty with our friend Mr. Buxton's name; and wrote it down to a receipt--that was all."

Mrs. Browne's face showed that the light came but slowly into her mind.

"But that's forgery--is not it?" asked she at length, in terror.

"People call it so," said Edward; "I call it borrowing from an old friend, who was always willing to lend."

"Does he know?--is he angry?" asked Mrs. Browne.

"Yes, he knows; and he bl.u.s.ters a deal. He was working himself up grandly at first. Maggie! I was getting rarely frightened, I can tell you."

"Has he been here?" said Mrs. Browne, in bewildered fright.

"Oh, yes! he and Maggie have been having a long talk, while I was hid in the china-closet. I would not go over that half-hour again for any money.

However, he and Maggie came to terms, at last."

"No, Edward, we did not!" said Maggie, in a low quivering voice.

"Very nearly. She's to give up her engagement, and then he will let me off."

"Do you mean that Maggie is to give up her engagement to Mr. Frank Buxton?"

asked his mother.

"Yes. It would never have come to anything, one might see that. Old Buxton would have held out against it till doomsday. And, sooner or later, Frank would have grown weary. If Maggie had had any spirit, she might have worked him up to marry her before now; and then I should have been spared even this fright, for they would never have set the police after Mrs. Frank Buxton's brother."

"Why, dearest, Edward, the police are not after you, are they?" said Mrs.

Browne, for the first time alive to the urgency of the case.

"I believe they are though," said Edward. "But after what Mr. Buxton promised this morning, it does not signify."

"He did not promise anything," said Maggie.

Edward turned sharply to her, and looked at her. Then he went and took hold of her wrists with no gentle grasp, and spoke to her through his set teeth.

"What do you mean, Maggie?--what do you mean?" (giving her a little shake.) "Do you mean that you'll stick to your lover through thick and thin, and leave your brother to be transported? Speak, can't you?"

She looked up at him, and tried to speak, but no words came out of her dry throat. At last she made a strong effort.

"You must give me time to think. I will do what is right, by G.o.d's help."

"As if it was not right--and such can't--to save your brother," said he, throwing her hands away in a pa.s.sionate manner.

"I must be alone," said Maggie, rising, and trying to stand steadily in the reeling room. She heard her mother and Edward speaking, but their words gave her no meaning, and she went out. She was leaving the house by the kitchen-door, when she remembered Nancy, left alone and helpless all through this long morning; and, ill as she could endure detention from the solitude she longed to seek, she patiently fulfilled her small duties, and sought out some breakfast for the poor old woman.

When she carried it up stairs, Nancy said:

"There's something up. You've trouble in your sweet face, my darling. Never mind telling me--only don't sob so. I'll pray for you, bairn: and G.o.d will help you."

"Thank you, Nancy. Do!" and she left the room.

CHAPTER IX.

When she opened the kitchen-door there was the same small, mizzling rain that had obscured the light for weeks, and now it seemed to obscure hope.

She clambered slowly (for indeed she was very feeble) up the Fell-Lane, and threw herself under the leafless thorn, every small branch and twig of which was loaded with rain-drops. She did not see the well-beloved and familiar landscape for her tears, and did not miss the hills in the distance that were hidden behind the rain-clouds, and sweeping showers.

Mrs. Browne and Edward sat over the fire. He told her his own story; making the temptation strong; the crime a mere trifling, venial error, which he had been led into, through his idea that he was to become Mr. Buxton's agent.

"But if it is only that," said Mrs. Browne, "surely Mr. Buxton will not think of going to law with you?"

"It's not merely going to law that he will think of, but trying and transporting me. That Henry he has got for his agent is as sharp as a needle, and as hard as a nether mill-stone. And the fellow has obtained such a hold over Mr. Buxton, that he dare but do what he tells him. I can't imagine how he had so much free-will left as to come with his proposal to Maggie; unless, indeed, Henry knows of it--or, what is most likely of all, has put him up to it. Between them they have given that poor fool Crayston a pretty dose of it; and I should have come yet worse off if it had not been for Maggie. Let me get clear this time, and I will keep to windward of the law for the future."

"If we sold the cottage we could repay it," said Mrs. Browne, meditating.

"Maggie and I could live on very little. But you see this property is held in trust for you two."

"Nay, mother; you must not talk of repaying it. Depend upon it he will be so glad to have Frank free from his engagement, that he won't think of asking for the money. And if Mr. Henry says anything about it, we can tell him it's not half the damages they would have had to have given Maggie, if Frank had been extricated in any other way. I wish she would come back; I would prime her a little as to what to say. Keep a look out, mother, lest Mr. Buxton returns and find me here."

"I wish Maggie would come in too," said Mrs. Browne. "I'm afraid she'll catch cold this damp day, and then I shall have two to nurse. You think she'll give it up, don't you, Edward? If she does not I'm afraid of harm coming to you. Had you not better keep out of the way?"

"It's fine talking. Where am I to go out of sight of the police this wet day: without a s.h.i.+lling in the world too? If you'll give me some money I'll be off fast enough, and make a.s.surance doubly sure. I'm not much afraid of Maggie. She's a little yea-nay thing, and I can always bend her round to what we want. She had better take care, too," said he, with a desperate look on his face, "for by G---- I'll make her give up all thoughts of Frank, rather than be taken and tried. Why! it's my chance for all my life; and do you think I'll have it frustrated for a girl's whim?"

"I think it's rather hard upon her too," pleaded his mother. "She's very fond of him; and it would have been such a good match for her."

"Pooh! she's not nineteen yet, and has plenty of time before her to pick up somebody else; while, don't you see, if I'm caught and transported, I'm done for life. Besides I've a notion Frank had already begun to be tired of the affair; it would have been broken off in a month or two, without her gaining anything by it."

"Well, if you think so," replied Mrs. Browne. "But I'm sorry for her. I always told her she was foolish to think so much about him: but I know she'll fret a deal if it's given up."

"Oh! she'll soon comfort herself with thinking that she has saved me. I wish she'd come. It must be near eleven. I do wish she would come. Hark! is not that the kitchen-door?" said he, turning white, and betaking himself once more to the china-closet. He held it ajar till he heard Maggie stepping softly and slowly across the floor. She opened the parlor-door; and stood looking in, with the strange imperceptive gaze of a sleep-walker.

Then she roused herself and saw that he was not there; so she came in a step or two, and sat down in her dripping cloak on a chair near the door.

Edward returned, bold now there was no danger.

"Maggie!" said he, "what have you fixed to say to Mr. Burton?"

She sighed deeply; and then lifted up her large innocent eyes to his face.