It Is Never Too Late to Mend Part 160

"Yes, you had when last I saw you--in the gold mine; you set ruffians to abuse me, sir."

"Don't you believe that, Mr. Levi."

"I saw it and felt it."

The peculiarity of this situation was, that, the room being full of people, both parties wished, each for his own reason, not to excite general attention, and therefore delivered scarce above a whisper the sort of matter that is generally uttered very loud and excitedly.

"It is my turn now," whispered Levi; "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth."

"You must look sharp then," whispered Crawley; "to-morrow perhaps you may not have the chance."

"I never postpone vengeance--when it is ripe."

"Don't you, sir? dear me."

"You have seven thousand pounds about you, Mr. Crawley."

Crawley started and trembled. "Stolen!" whispered Isaac in his very ear.

"Give it up to the officer."

Crawley rose instinctively. A firm hand was laid on each of his arms; he sat down again. "What--what---ever money I have is trusted to me by the wealthiest and most respectable man in the cou--nty, and--"

"Stolen by him, received by you! Give it to Wood, unless you prefer a public search."

"You can't search me without a warrant."

"Here is a warrant from the mayor. Take the notes out of your left breast and give them to the officer, or we must do it by force and publicity."

"I won't without Mr. Meadows' authority. Send for Mr. Meadows if you dare." Isaac reflected. "Well! we will take you to Mr. Meadows. Keep the money till you see him, but we must secure you. Put his coat over his hands first." The great-coat was put over his hands, and the next moment under the coat was heard a little sharp click.

"Let us go to the carriage," said Levi, in a brisk, cheerful tone.

Those present heard the friendly invitation and saw a little string of acquaintances, three in number, break up a conversation and go and get into a fly; one carried a great-coat and bundle before him with both hands.

CHAPTER Lx.x.xIV.

MR. MEADOWS went to the bank--into the parlor--and said he must draw seven thousand pounds of cash and securities. The partners look blank.

"I know," said Meadows, "I should cripple you. Well, I am not going to, nor let any one else--it would not suit my book. Just hand me the securities and let me make over that sum to George Fielding and Thomas Robinson. There! now for some months to come those two men are not to know how rich they are, in fact not till I tell them." A very ready consent to this was given by both partners; I am afraid I might say an eager consent.

"There! now I feel another man, that is off me anyway," and Meadows strode home double the man. Soon his new top-boots were on, and his new dark blue coat with flat double-gilt b.u.t.tons, and his hat broadish in the brim, and he looked the model of a British yeoman; he reached Gra.s.smere before eleven o'clock. It was to be a very quiet wedding, but the bridesmaids, etc., were there, and Susan all in white, pale but very lovely. Father-in-law cracking jokes, Susan writhing under them.

"Now, then, is it to be a wedding without bells, for I hear none?"

"That it shall not," cried one of the young men; and off they ran to the church.

Meantime Meadows was the life and soul of the mirthful scene. He was in a violent excitement that pa.s.sed with the rustics for gayety natural to the occasion. They did not notice his anxious glances up the hill that led to Newborough; his eager and repeated looks at his watch, the sigh of relief when the church-bells pealed out, the tremors of impatience, the struggle to appear cool as he sent one to hurry the clerk, another to tell the clergyman the bride was ready; the stamp of the foot when one of the bridesmaids took ten minutes to tie on a bonnet. He walked arm in arm, with Susan waiting for this girl; at last she was ready.

Then came one running to say that the parson was not come home yet. What it cost him not to swear at the parson with Susan on his arm and the church in sight!

While he was thus fuming inwardly, a handsome, dark-eyed youth came up and inquired which was the bride. She was pointed out to him. "A letter for you, Miss Merton."

"For me? Who from?"

She glanced at the handwriting, and Meadows looked keenly in the boy's face. "A Jew," said he to himself. "Susan, you have got your gloves on."

And in a moment he took the letter from her, but quietly, and opened it as if to return it to her to read. He glanced down it, saw "Jefferies, postmaster," and at the bottom "Isaac Levi." With wonderful presence of mind he tore it in pieces. "An insult, Susan," he cried. "A mean, malignant insult to set you against me--a wife against her husband."

Ere the words were out of his mouth he seized the young Jew and whirled him like a feather into the hands of his friends. "Duck him!" cried he.

And in a moment, spite of his remonstrances and attempts at explanation, Nathan was flung into the horse-pond. He struggled out on the other side, and stood on the bank in a stupor of rage and terror, while the bridegroom menaced him with another dose, should he venture to return.

"I will tell you all about it to-morrow, Susan."

"Calm yourself," replied Susan. "I know you have enemies, but why punish a messenger for the letter he only carries?"

"You are an angel, Susan. Boys, let him alone, do you hear?" N. B. He had been ducked.

And now a loud hurrah was heard from behind the church. "The parson, at last," cried Meadows, exultingly. Susan lowered her eyes, and hated herself for the shiver that pa.s.sed through her. To her the parson was the executioner.

It was not the parson. The next moment two figures came round in sight.

Meadows turned away with a groan. "George Fielding!" said he. The words dropped, as it were, out of his mouth.

Susan misunderstood this. She thought he read her heart, and ascribed her repugnance to her lingering attachment to George. She was angry with herself for letting this worthy man see her want of pride. "Why do you mention that name to me? What do I care for him who has deceived me? I wish he stood at the church door, that he might see how I would look at him and pa.s.s him leaning on your faithful arm."

"Susan!" cried a well-known voice behind her. She trembled and almost crouched ere she turned; but the moment she turned round she gave a scream that brought all the company running, and the bride forgot everything at the sight of George's handsome, honest face beaming truth and love, and threw herself into his arms. George kissed the bride.

"Oh!" cried the bridesmaids, awaking from their stupor, and remembering this was her old lover. "Oh!" "Oh!!" "Oh!!!" on an ascending scale.

These exclamations brought Susan to her senses. She sprang from George as though an adder had stung her; and, red as fire, her eyes like basilisks', she turned on him at a safe distance. "How dare you embrace me? How dare you come where I am? Father, ask this man why he comes here now to make me expose myself, and insult the honest man who honors me with his respect. Oh, father, come to me, and take me away from here."

"Susan, what on earth is this? what have I done?"

"What have you done? You are false to me! you never wrote me a letter for twelve months, and you are married to a lady in Bathurst! Oh, George!"

"If he is," cried Robinson, "he must be slyer than I give him credit for, for I have never left his side night nor day, and I never saw him say three civil words to a woman."

"Mr. Robinson!"

"Yes, Mr. Robinson. Somebody has been making a fool of you, Miss Merton.

Why, all his cry night and day has been, 'Susan! Susan!' When we found the great nugget he kisses it, and says he, 'There, that is not because you are gold, but because you take me to Susan.'"

"Hold your tongue, Tom," said George, sternly. "Who puts me on my defense? Is there any man here who has been telling her I have ever had a thought of any girl but her? If there is, let him stand out now and say it to my face if he dares." There was a dead silence. "There is a lie without a backer, it seems;" and he looked round on all the company with his calm superior eye. "And now, Susan, what were you doing on that man's arm?"

"Oh!"

"Miss Merton and I are to be married to-day," said Meadows, "that is why I gave her my arm."

George gasped for breath, but he controlled himself by a mighty effort.

"She thought me false, and now she knows I am true. Susan," faltered he, "I say nothing about the promises that have pa.s.sed between us two, and the ring you gave. Here it is."