Marguerite Verne; Or, Scenes from Canadian Life Part 36

"Yes, Stephen, I cannot stay much longer. The fall work is coming on. Jennie is a host in herself, but I must not impose upon good nature."

"Jennie Montgomery is a rare jewel; and I least of all should insist upon your staying longer. You have, indeed, done much for me."

"Stop, Stephen, I am not going to listen to any such stuff. Indeed, it's a pity I could not come down to amuse myself for a while without you having such notions. The fact is, I needed change of air, and now having a sufficient store to subsist upon for the next half year, think I had better make tracks."

"Did you think of it yesterday, Hester?"

"To be honest with you, Stephen, I scarcely thought of it until the sight of good-natured Moses Spriggins reminded me I had a snug little nest in Kings County, and had better fly away to it."

"Spriggins, did you say, Hester?" queried Mr. Verne, in a manner that showed that the name had been hitherto a.s.sociated in his mind.

"Yes, sir, I said Spriggins. Did you not know that Melindy Jane Thrasher has a suitor who calls as regularly as he comes to the city?"

Mr. Verne laughed cheerily, a circ.u.mstance which was so unusual that the domestics in the bas.e.m.e.nt were on the _qui vive_ to see what was the matter.

"And you happened to interrupt the lovers I suppose," remarked Mr.

Verne in his quaint dry way.

"I did nothing of the kind, Stephen. I met Moses on the landing. I tell you what it is, I have great respect for Moses Spriggins. Yes, for every one of the family," said Mrs. Montgomery in an earnest and respectful manner.

"They live near you Hester?"

"About ten miles, perhaps not so far. Simon Spriggins raised a large family, but there are only two of the boys at home now, and Nell Spriggins is a nice looking girl. I tell you their home is neat and tasteful, although not very showy."

"It seems quite a coincidence that the same Moses Spriggins should have occasion to call at the office to-day--"

"To ask for Melindy Jane Trasher, I suppose," cried Mrs. Montgomery, with as much merriment as a young girl.

"He was merely conveying an important message," said Mr. Verne, "and in course of conversation I was quite interested."

"Moses is one of the best hearted creatures for miles around. He is often imposed upon when anything in the shape of tea meetings or bazaars are on the go."

"All's well that ends well," said Mr. Verne, rising from the table quietly.

"Quite a digression," murmured Mrs. Montgomery, as she touched the gong and arose from her seat.

Within the sanct.i.ty of his private apartments Mr. Verne now saw clearly how matters stood. He was convinced that Phillip Lawson had been in possession of the letter and that he had dropped it while going or coming from "Sunnybank," and that Moses Spriggins, following in his footsteps, had picked it up.

"Truly, indeed, 'G.o.d moves in a mysterious way,'" mused Mr. Verne as he glanced at the crumpled paper, "and to think they have been foiled in the outset. To think that I have entertained such a monster, and to have heard him applauded until I was nigh sick.

Heavens! if there be a retributive justice it shall surely be meted out to that accursed viper, Hubert Tracy."

The compressed lips and fierce scowl gave expression to the anger within, and showed that when once aroused Stephen Verne was "a foeman worthy of his steel."

He deliberated long upon his young friend's magnanimity.

"Lawson is a man of ten thousand, else he would have had the satisfaction of seeing the whole gang reap their reward. Aye, lynching is too good for them, the scoundrels. But the time will come when they'll be found out, for they'll not stop at that," and in clear distinct tones Mr. Verne repeated the following lines:--

"Though the mills of G.o.d grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience He stands waiting, with exactness grinds He all."

Mrs. Montgomery was not satisfied with Mr. Verne's evasiveness. Like most women she had a fair share of curiosity, and now she was doubly curious.

"It's no earthly use to try to sift Stephen, for he's as firm as a granite bowlder; but one thing is certain, there's something in the wind just now--something in which Mr. Lawson and Moses Spriggins are both concerned, though either or both may be unaware of it. Let me see," continued Mrs. Montgomery, elevating her eyebrows, and looking very much like a lawyer when he has his client's opponent in the witness stand. "Mr. Lawson was here last night and left early. Moses Spriggins was here also, and left later. Now, as to what took Moses to the office that's where the mystery is, and that there is one I am as certain as the head is on my body."

One good trait in Mrs. Montgomery's character was that she never lost confidence in a friend until she had the most positive proof of his guilt, her honest nature was slow to believe in the worst side of humanity.

"Whatever it is," murmured she, "it is the doings of some other parties, for both are above suspicion."

The entrance of Mr. Verne put an end to the soliloquy, but did not drive away the subject, and when the latter was safely out of hearing, Mrs. Montgomery exclaimed to herself "I see plainly that Stephen is deeply agitated. He seldom carries that look. It is something of an uncommon nature that has aroused him. He thinks he hides his secret whatever it be, but poor Stephen is not schooled in the ways of deception, and in the end it is better so." And repeating the words, "'tis better so," the whole-hearted woman was soon occupied over the ways and means of domestic economy.

CHAPTER XXVI.

DESPONDENCY.

Much as we would like to follow other friends we cannot yet leave Phillip Lawson. He is now in great trouble having met with a loss that is great.

"I might have known that it was too much good fortune for me," cried the young man in sad and pathetic voice. "Fool that I was to carry it about when I was so lucky for once in my life."

Phillip Lawson was the picture of despondency. A heavy cloud had settled down just as all had promised fair and now all was darkness and gloom, not a ray of hope pierced the grim portals which had closed so suddenly upon him.

He thought of the Tuscan poet and wondered if it were possible that his bitter experience had called forth that direful inscription--

"Abandon hope all ye who enter here."

"Ah, my life is Hades! I look for none other!" cried Phillip, his mind now in an unsettled state and ready almost to doubt truth and revelation.

"I have tried hard to lead a good moral life, to live according to the teachings of the Golden Rule and to live with G.o.d's help in accordance with the teachings of His holy doctrine, and why is it that I am thus hardly dealt with?"

We cannot blame our young friend if he be somewhat rebellious. His faith is sorely tried and he is at first found wanting; but unlike many others who have gone down under the weight of the angry billows, stems the torrent and with his eye straight for the beacon light reaches the haven in safety.

"I believe that some good may yet spring from it. Hubert Tracy will not have the power to injure my reputation. He may succeed for a time, but there is a Nemesis cruel as death."

Phillip repeated these words as if he were the avenging Deity himself and the hoa.r.s.eness of his voice made them sound doubly prophetic.

"If they could only have pa.s.sed into Mr. Verne's hands instead of mine it would have been better for all parties; but what's the use of talking."

Phillip looked sad and careworn, aye, ten years older than on the previous night, and had Mrs. Montgomery looked in upon him then she would surely have been more perplexed than ever.

"It will never do for me to be hunting around the doors at 'Sunnybank.' For the life of me I cannot see how such a thing could have happened."

For the sake of explanation we must admit that our legal friend had a failing which often turned out disastrously for himself and at times for others--he was simply speaking--absent-minded, but bear in mind it was only outside of business matters. As a clear thinker Mr.

Lawson had no superior, he was equal to any question, running over with brilliant repartee and thoughtful speech.

It was only when the office door was closed and business suspended that he was guilty of this weakness, and as it on this occasion, caused him to suffer much from the consequence we hope to prove that he had overcome it. The fact was the paper had slipped between the folds of his handkerchief when he had taken it to brush off some dust that persistently adhered to his coat sleeve. There was another view of the matter from a more jubliant source, Mr. Moses Spriggins.

The latter toiled away in the ten acre lot at Mill Crossing in the happy thought of some day being "as big a gun as the rest of 'em,"