Mildred Arkell Volume Iii Part 21

"No, I'll swear I did not," retorted the witness, in an earnest tone, forgetting, probably, that he was already on his oath. "He never told me why he wanted to look. He would go in at night: if he were seen entering the church in the day, it might be fatal to his client's cause, was the tale he told; and I am ashamed to acknowledge that I took him in at night, and suffered him to look at the register. I have heard to-day that his name is Richards."

"You knew where the key of the safe was kept?"

"Yes; I was one day in the church with the Reverend Mr. Prattleton, and saw him take it from its place."

"Did you see Rolls (as we will call him) abstract the leaf?"

"Of course I did not," indignantly retorted the witness. "I suddenly found the vestry in darkness, and he got me to fetch the matches, which were left on the bench at the entrance door. It must have been done then. Soon after I returned he gave me back the register, saying the entry he wanted was not there, and I locked it up again. When we got to the church door we were astonished to find it open, but----"

"But did you not suspect it was opened by one who had watched your proceedings," interrupted the judge.

"No, my lord. Rolls left the town the next morning early; when I went to find him he was gone, and I have never been able to see him since.

That's all I know of the transaction, and I can only publicly repeat my deep regret and shame that I should have been drawn into such a one."

"Drawn, however, without much scruple, as it appears," rebuked the judge, with a severe countenance. "Allow me to ask you, sir, when it was you first became acquainted with the fact that a theft had been perpetrated on the register?"

Mr. George Prattleton did not immediately answer. He would have given much not to be obliged to do so: but the court wore an ominous silence, and the judge waited his reply.

"The day after it took place, Arkell, the college boy, came and told me what he had seen, but----"

"Then, sir, it was your duty to have proclaimed it, and to have had steps taken to arrest your confederate, Rolls," interrupted the stern judge.

"But, my lord, I did not believe Arkell. I did not indeed," he added, endeavouring to impart to his tone an air of veracity, and therefore--as is sure to be the case--imparting to it just the contrary. "I could not believe that Rolls, or any one else in a respectable position, such he appeared to occupy, would be guilty of so felonious an action."

"The less excuse you make upon the point, the better," observed the judge.

For some few minutes Serjeant Siftem and his party had been conferring in whispers. The serjeant, at this stage, spoke.

"My lord, this revelation has come upon my instructors, Mynn and Mynn, with, the most utter surprise, and----"

"The man, Rolls, or Richards, is really clerk to Mynn and Mynn, I am informed," interrupted the judge, in as significant a tone as a presiding judge permits himself to a.s.sume.

"He was, my lord; but he will not be in future. They discard him from this hour. In fact, should he not make good his escape from the country, which it is more than likely he is already endeavouring to effect, he will probably at the next a.s.sizes find himself placed before your lordship for judgment, should you happen to come this circuit, and preside in the other court. But Mynn and Mynn wish to disclaim, in the most emphatic manner, all cognizance of this man's crime. They----"

"There is no charge to be brought against Mynn and Mynn in connexion with it, is there?" again interposed the judge.

"Most certainly not, my lord," replied the counsel, in a lofty tone, meant to impress the public ear.

"Then, Brother Siftem, it appears to me that you need not take up the time of the court to enter on their defence."

"I bow to your lordship's opinion. Mynn and Mynn and their client, Squire Carr, are not less indignant that so rascally a trick should have been perpetrated than the public must be. But this evidence, which has come upon them in so overwhelming a manner, they feel they cannot hope to confute. I am therefore instructed to inform your lordship and the jury, that they withdraw from the suit, and permit a verdict to be entered for the other side."

"Very good," replied the judge.

And thus, after certain technicalities had been observed, the proceedings were concluded, and the court began to empty itself of its spectators. For once the RIGHT had prospered. But Westerbury held its breath with awe when it came to reflect that it was the revengeful act of Roland Carr Lewis, that locking up in the church, which had caused his family to be despoiled of the inheritance they had taken to themselves!

The Reverend Mr. Wilberforce laid hold of Henry Arkell, as he was leaving the Guildhall. "Tell me," said he, but not in an angry tone, "how much more that is incomprehensible are you keeping secret, allowing it to come out to me piecemeal?"

Henry smiled. "I don't think there is any more, sir."

"Yes, there is. It is incomprehensible why you should not have disclosed at the time all you had been a witness to in the church. Why did you not?"

"I could not speak without compromising George Prattleton, sir; and if I had, he might have been brought to trial for it."

"Serve him right too," said Mr. Wilberforce.

Presently Henry met the dean, his daughter, Frederick St. John, and Lady Anne. The dean stopped him.

"What do you call yourself? A lion?"

Henry smiled faintly.

"I think you stand a fair chance of being promoted into one. Do you know what I wished to-day, when you were giving your evidence?"

"No, sir."

"That you were my own son."

Henry involuntarily glanced at Georgina, and she glanced at him: her face retained its calmness, but a flush of crimson came over his. No one observed them but Mr. St. John.

"I want you at the deanery to-night," continued the dean, releasing Henry. "No excuse about lessons now: your fall on Sunday has given you holiday. You will come?"

"Yes, sir."

"I mean to dinner--seven o'clock. The judges will be there. The one who tried the cause said he should like to meet you. Go and rest yourself until then."

"Thank you, sir. I will come."

Georgina's eyes sparkled, and she nodded to him in triumph a dozen times, as she walked on with the dean.

Following in the wake of the dean's party came the Rev. Mr. Prattleton.

Henry approached him timidly.

"I hope you will forgive me, sir. I could not help giving my evidence."

"Forgive you!" echoed Mr. Prattleton; "I wish n.o.body wanted forgiveness worse than you do. You have acted n.o.bly throughout. I have recommended Mr. George to get out of the town for a while; not to remain in it in idleness and trouble my table any longer. He can join his friend Rolls on the continent if he likes: I understand he is most likely off thither."

The fraud was not brought home to the Carr family. It was indisputably certain that the squire himself had known nothing whatever of it: had never even been aware that the marriage was entered on the register of St. James the Less. Whether his sons Valentine and Benjamin were equally guiltless, was a matter of opinion. Valentine solemnly protested that nothing had ever been told to him; but he did acknowledge that Richards came to him one evening, and said he thought the cause was likely to be imperilled by "certain proceedings" that the other side were taking. He, Valentine Carr, authorized him to do what he could to counteract these proceedings (only intending him to act in a fair manner), and gave him carte blanche in a moderate way for the money that might be required. He acknowledged to no more: and perhaps he had no more to acknowledge: neither did he say _how much_ he had paid to Richards. Benjamin treated the whole matter with contempt. The most indignant of all were Mynn and Mynn. Really respectable pract.i.tioners, it was in truth a very disagreeable thing to have been forced upon them; and could they have got at their ex-clerk, they would willingly have transported him.

And Mr. Fauntleroy, in the flush of his great victory, in the plenitude of his grat.i.tude to the boy whose singular evidence had caused him to win the battle, went down that same day to Peter Arkell's and forgave him the miserable debt that had so long hampered him. For once in his life, the lawyer showed himself generous. People used to say that such was his nature before the world hardened him.

So, taking one thing with another, it was a satisfactory termination to the renowned cause, Carr versus Carr.

It was a large state dinner at the deanery. But the chief thing that Henry Arkell saw at it was, that Mr. St. John sat by Georgina Beauclerc.

The judges--who did not appear in their wigs and fiery gowns, to the relief of private country individuals of wide imaginations, that could not usually separate them--were pleasant men, and their faces did not look so yellow by candle-light. They talked to Henry a great deal, and he had to rehea.r.s.e over, for the general benefit, all the scene of that past night in St. James's Church. Mrs. Beauclerc, usually so indifferent, was aroused to especial interest, and would not quit the theme; neither would Lady Anne St. John, now visiting at the Palmery, and who was present with Mrs. St. John.

But Georgina--oh, the curious wiles of a woman's heart!--took little or no notice of Henry. They had been for some time in the drawing-room before she came near him at all--before she addressed a word to him. At dinner she had been absorbed in Mr. St. John: gay, laughing, animated, her thoughts, her words, were all for him. Sarah Beauclerc, conspicuous that night for her beauty, sat opposite to them, but St. John had not the opportunity of speaking to her, beyond a pa.s.sing word now and again.

In the drawing-room, no longer fettered--though perhaps the fetters had been willing ones--St. John went at once to Sarah, and he did not leave her side. Ah! Henry saw it all: both those fair girls loved Frederick St. John! What would be the ending?