The Three Clerks Part 55

'Took!' repeated Mrs. Woodward. 'Katie, dear Katie--sit down, my child--sit down.'

'Oh, mamma! oh, mamma!' said she, apparently unable to move, and certainly all but unable to stand.

'Tell us, Mrs. Richards, what is it--what has happened to Mr.

Tudor?' and as she spoke Mrs. Woodward got up and pa.s.sed her arm around her younger daughter's waist--Linda also got up and joined the group.

'Why, ma'am,' said Mrs. Richards, 'he's been took by the bailiffs, and now he's in prison.'

Katie did not faint. She never had fainted, and probably did not know the way; but she clenched her hands still tighter, breathed harder than before, and repeated her appeal to her mother in a voice of agony. 'Oh, mamma! oh, mamma!'

Katie had no very accurate conception of what an arrest for debt meant. She knew that next to death imprisonment was the severest punishment inflicted on erring mortals, and she now heard that Charley was in prison. She did not stop to think whether it was for his life, or for some more limited period. It was enough for her to know, that this terrible misfortune had come upon him, to him who, to her young fancy, was so bright, so good, so clever, so excellent, upon him who had saved her life--upon him whom she so dearly loved.

'Oh, mamma! oh, mamma!' she said, and then in agony she shut her eyes and shuddered violently.

Mrs. Woodward was greatly afflicted. She was indeed sorry to hear such tidings of Charley Tudor; but her grief was now deeper even than that. She could not be longer blind to the sort of feeling which her child evinced for this young man; she could not think that these pa.s.sionate bursts of overpowering sorrow were the result of mere childish friends.h.i.+p; she could not but see that her Katie's bosom now held a woman's heart, and that that heart was no longer her own.

And then Mrs. Woodward reflected of what nature, of what sort, was this man whom she had allowed to a.s.sociate with her darling, almost as a brother does with his sister; whom she had warmed in her bosom till he had found an opportunity of inflicting this deadly wound. With terrible bitterness she upbraided herself as she sat down and bade Mrs. Richards go on with her tale. She knew that nothing which could now be said would add to Katie's anguish.

Mrs. Richards' story was soon told. It simply amounted to this--that 'Mister Charley,' as she always called him, had been arrested for debt at the suit of a tailor, and that she had learnt the circ.u.mstances from the fact of the prisoner having sent for his brushes.

'And so I thought the best thing was to come and tell Mr.

Norman,' said Mrs. Richards, concluding her speech.

Nothing could be done till Norman came in. Linda went out with Mrs. Richards to get some refreshment in the dining-room, and Mrs. Woodward sat with her arm round Katie's neck on the sofa, comforting her with kisses and little caressing touches, but saying nothing. Katie, still unconscious of her pa.s.sion, gave way to spasmodic utterance of her own grief.

'Oh, mamma!' she said--' what can be done? What can we do? You will do something, mamma, won't you? Poor Charley! Dear Charley!

Harry will do something--won't he? Won't Harry go to London, and do something?'

Mrs. Woodward did what she could to quiet her. Something should be done, she said. They must wait till Harry came in, and then settle what was best. Nothing could be done till Harry came in.

'You must be patient, Katie, or else you will make yourself really ill.'

Katie became afraid that she would be sent off to bed on the score of her illness before Harry had come, and thus lose the advantage of hearing what was the step decided on. So she sat silent in the corner of her sofa feigning to be asleep, but pondering in her mind what sort of penalties were the penalties of imprisonment, how dreadful, how endurable, or how unendurable.

Would they put chains on him? would they starve him? would they cut off his beautiful brown hair?

Mrs. Woodward sat silent waiting for Harry's return. When first she had watched Katie's extreme misery, and guessed the secret of her child's heart, she had felt something like hard, bitter anger against Charley. But by degrees this feeling softened down. It was by no means natural to her, nor akin to her usual tenderness.

After all, the fault hitherto was probably more her own than his.

Mrs. Richards was sent back to town. She was thanked for the trouble she had taken, and told that Mr. Norman would do in the matter all that was necessary to be done. So she took her departure, and Linda returned to the drawing-room.

Unfortunately Captain Cutt.w.a.ter came in first. They none of them mentioned Charley's misfortune to him. Charley was no favourite with Uncle Bat, and his remarks would not have been of the most cheering tendency.

At last Norman came also. He came, as was his wont, through the drawing-room window, and, throwing himself into a chair, began to tell the girls how much they had lost by not joining him on the river.

'Harry,' said Mrs. Woodward, 'step into the dining-room with me for a moment.'

Harry got up to follow her. Katie and Linda also instantly jumped from their seats to do the same. Mrs. Woodward looked round, and motioned to them to stay with their uncle. Linda obediently, though reluctantly, remained; but Katie's impulse was too strong for her. She gave one imploring look at her mother, a look which Mrs. Woodward well understood, and then taking silence for consent, crept into the dining-room.

'Harry,' said Mrs. Woodward, as soon as the dining-room door was closed, 'Charley has been arrested;' and then she told him how Mrs. Richards had been at the Cottage, and what was the nature of the tidings she had brought.

Norman was not much surprised, nor did he feign to be so. He took the news so coolly that Katie almost hated him. 'Did she say who had arrested him, or what was the amount?' he asked.

Mrs. Woodward replied that she knew no more than what she had already told. Katie stood in the shade with her eyes fixed upon her cousin, but as yet she said nothing. How cruel, how stony-hearted must he be to hear such dreadful tidings and remain thus undisturbed! Had Charley heard that Norman was arrested, he would have been half way to London by this time. So, at least, thought Katie.

'Something can be done for him, Harry, can there not? We must contrive to do something--eh, Harry?' said Mrs. Woodward.

'I fear it is too late to do anything to-night,' said Harry, looking at his watch. 'The last train is gone, and I could not possibly find him out before twelve.'

'And to-morrow is Sunday,' said Mrs. Woodward.

'Oh, Harry, pray do something!' said Katie, 'pray, pray, pray, do! Oh, Harry, think of Charley being in prison! Oh, Harry, he would do anything for you!' and then she burst into tears, and caught hold of Harry's arm and the front of his coat to add force to her entreaty.

'Katie,' said her mother, 'don't be so foolish. Harry will, of course, do whatever is best.'

'But, mamma, he says he will do nothing; why does he not go at once?'

'I will go at once, dear Katie,' said he; 'I will go now directly. I don't know whether we can set him free to-night, or even to-morrow, as to-morrow is Sunday; but it certainly shall be done on Monday, you may be sure of that at any rate. Whatever can be done shall be done;' and, without further talk upon the subject, he took his hat and went his way.

'May G.o.d Almighty bless him!' said Mrs. Woodward. 'How infinitely greater are truth and honesty than any talent, however brilliant!'

She spoke only to herself and no one even guessed what was the nature of the comparison which she thus made.

As soon as Norman was gone, Katie went to bed: and in the morning she was p.r.o.nounced to be too unwell to get up. And, indeed, she was far from well. During the night she only slept by short starts, and in her sleep she was restless and uneasy; then, when she woke, she would burst out into fits of tears, and lie sobbing hysterically till she slept again. In the morning, Mrs. Woodward said something about Charley's misconduct, and this threw her into a wretched state of misery, from which nothing would rouse her till her mother promised that the prodigal should not be thrown over and abandoned.

Poor Mrs. Woodward was in a dreadful state of doubt as to what it now behoved her to do. She felt that, however anxious she might be to a.s.sist Charley for his own sake, it was her bounden duty to separate him from her child. Whatever merits he might have--and in her eyes he had many--at any rate he had not those which a mother would desire to see in the future husband of her daughter.

He was profligate, extravagant, careless, and idle; his prospects in life were in every respect bad; he had no self-respect, no self-reliance, no moral strength. Was it not absolutely necessary that she should put a stop to any love that might have sprung up between such a man as this and her own young bright-eyed darling?

Put a stop to it! Yes, indeed, most expedient; nay, absolutely necessary--if it were only possible. Now, when it was too late, she began to perceive that she had not known of what material her own child was formed. At sixteen, Gertrude and Linda had in reality been little more than children. In manner, Katie had been more childish even than them, and yet--Mrs. Woodward, as she thought of these things, felt her heart faint within her.

She was resolved that, cost what it might, Charley must be banished from the Cottage. But at the first word of a.s.sumed displeasure that she uttered, Katie fell into such an agony of grief that her soft heart gave way, and she found herself obliged to promise that the sinner should be forgiven. Katie the while was entirely unconscious of the state of her own feelings. Had she thought that she loved him as women love, had any thought of such love and of him together even entered her mind, she could not have talked of him as she now talked. Had he been her brother, she could not have been less guarded in her protestations of affection, or more open in her appeals to her mother that he might be forgiven. Such was her present state; but it was doomed that her eyes should soon be opened, and that she should know her own sorrow.

On the Sunday afternoon, Norman returned to Hampton with the tidings that Charley was once more a free man. The key of gold which he had taken with him had been found potent enough to open all barriers, even those with which the sanct.i.ty of Sunday had surrounded the prisoner. Mr. Outerman, and the bailiff, and the messenger, had all been paid their full claims, and Charley, with his combs and brushes, had returned to the more benign custody of Mrs. Richards.

'And why didn't he come down with you?' said Katie to Norman, who had gone up to her bedroom to give her the good tidings.

Norman looked at Mrs. Woodward, but made no reply.

'He would probably prefer remaining in town at present,' said Mrs. Woodward. 'It will be more comfortable for him to do so.'

And then Katie was left alone to meditate why Charley should be more comfortable after his arrest in London than at Hampton; and after a while she thought that she had surmised the truth. 'Poor Charley! perhaps he is ashamed. He need not be ashamed to come at any rate to me.'

CHAPTER XXIX

EASY IS THE SLOPE OF h.e.l.l

The electors for the Tillietudlem district burghs, disgusted by the roguery of Mr. M'Buffer, and anxiously on the alert to replace him by a strictly honest man, returned our friend Undy by a glorious majority. He had no less than 312 votes, as opposed to 297, and though threatened with the pains and penalties of a pet.i.tion, he was not a little elated by his success. A pet.i.tion with regard to the Tillietudlem burghs was almost as much a matter of course as a contest; at any rate the threat of a pet.i.tion was so. Undy, however, had lived through this before, and did not fear but that he might do so again. Threatened folks live long; parliamentary pet.i.tions are very costly, and Undy's adversaries were, if possible, even in more need of money than himself.