A Woman's Burden Part 43

"I should be sorry if it were so," she said. "However, the less said between you and me the better. We are long past words. Wait here and I will bring you the money, and I trust you will go to some other country and remain there. It is not too late even now for you to make at all events an independence for yourself."

When she had left the room he ran over the position in his mind. She seemed in no way surprised at, and not to care in the least for, what he had told her. He was very much afraid that dodge would not work. She knew the Major, too, and the Major certainly knew him, and altogether he came to the conclusion that this was a case where a little oil was likely to be more efficacious than a large amount of force.

"All right," he said, as she returned with the notes. "I'll go, as you're so mighty anxious to get rid of me. But if I do make another pile you'll be sorry. And take my advice, Miriam, and don't get trying your hand at 'light-finger' work, or you mayn't come off so well next time, and then you mustn't expect any help from me, you know."

"Leave the house, you brute," she cried, losing all control of herself for the moment, "or I'll send this moment for Major Dundas, and hand you over to him."

"What do I care for you and your bully?" he retorted, laughing somewhat uneasily. But he put on his dilapidated hat, nevertheless, and swaggered out into the hall.

In the street the meaning of her words came back upon him with even greater force, and with all the speed he was capable of he made for Mother Mandarin's--the only hole in the vast city where he felt secure.

Left alone Miriam shed a few tears. In truth it seemed she was the very sport of Fortune. Was it never to end--this torment of her life? She hungered so for love and peace. All through she had striven to do right, to benefit in every way those around her, and how had she fared? The words of Queen Mary came to her mind:--

"Mother of G.o.d, Thou knowest woman never meant so well Or fared so ill in this disastrous world."

How well they applied to her. It all seemed so dark. There was no sign of dawn. Yet she did not lose hope. Her faith in G.o.d was infinite.

Within a few minutes of her brother's departure Mrs. Parsley called.

There was a thick fog outside, and from time to time the rain managed to pierce it. Against such elements Mrs. Parsley was well protected by mackintosh, umbrella, and the thickest boots. Thus arrayed she was not a comely vision. But underneath that gutta-percha sheeting there beat a heart of gold--a heart worthy all protection. During the past year her visits to Miriam had been frequent, for she sympathised with her deeply.

The younger woman had laid her whole life bare to her, even to her connection with Mother Mandarin and Jabez and old Barton.

Gideon Anab, alias Shorty, was still a sore point with Mrs. Parsley. She had learned through him a very wholesome lesson--that charity was but a business after all, and like most other businesses, if left to go its own way, was apt to go all wrong. Thus convinced she had taken all further charitable operations under her own immediate supervision, with the result that for three days out of the week she was obliged to come to London, and then she was only too glad to make the flat in Kensington her headquarters.

"How glad I am to see you," said Miriam, taking her unlovely visage between her two hands and kissing her. "But, my dear Mrs. Parsley, how pale you look!"

The old lady had thrown off her impermeable chrysalis, and had emerged therefrom a very sober fritillary.

"Pale?--of course I'm pale. I've seen a ghost I tell you--the ghost of a man I thought dead years ago."

"Where?"

"Outside--just round the corner here. He seemed to be following some miserable, red-headed, out-at-elbows creature. They were both walking fast. But the man I mean--the ghost--is a tall, pale, thin fellow, with eyes like burning coals. I believe I saw him once at Thorpe, but I was not sure at the time if it was he. But I'm sure now. He was wearing a soft hat and a black cloak----"

"The shadow!" exclaimed Miriam, "it must be!"

"Shadow, my dear! Well, shadow or ghost I know him. His name is Farren.

He's the man who ran away with your husband's mother thirty years ago!"

CHAPTER IX.

MORE TROUBLE.

"Farren--Farren!" repeated Miriam thoughtfully, "yes, now I remember the name. Mr. Barton told me the whole story, how he bribed him to go to Australia and break off with Gerald's mother, and how in revenge she made mischief between Mr. Barton and the girl he was engaged to."

"Bribed him?" Mrs. Parsley rubbed her nose thoughtfully--a sure sign with her that she was puzzled. "I don't know so much about the bribing, although that was the story Barton told. Flora Barton had five hundred a year of her own, and Farren was deeply in love with her--no, I fancy it took something more than bribery to make him leave the woman and exile himself like that. I'm pretty sure Barton must have known something about the man's life, and so had him in his power."

"But this Farren, I suppose, was a man of position and reputation in those days, wasn't he, Mrs. Parsley?"

"My dear, he hadn't a rag of reputation--not a rag. He gambled terribly, and led a most dissipated life; all he did was just to keep on the safe side of the law."

"And you think now he hadn't even done that always?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Parsley, "that is my idea; as I have told you, I saw the man once at Lesser Thorpe, although, not being able to get a good look at him, I couldn't be sure it was he. Now if it _was_, Barton was the only man whom he could have come to see in our parish, and you'd think he'd be glad to keep out of his way."

"That of course I don't know; but that you are right and Mr. Barton _did_ have some hold over this man, I do know, because he told me so himself." Whereupon Miriam gave Mrs. Parsley a succinct account of the use made by Barton of the man he called the "Shadow."

"Humph!" remarked the old lady, seeing the possibilities of the situation. "So Barton got Farren to hunt down your brother, did he? and just now Mr. Farren was very busy following a red-haired man who came from the direction of these Mansions. Putting two and two together, my dear, I should say you had received a visit from your brother."

Miriam was astonished at her accomplishment in the way of deduction. She tried not to betray herself.

"How do you make that out?" she asked.

"The man Farren was following had very striking auburn hair--very much like your own. Come now, it was Jabez, wasn't it?"

"Yes; since you know so much, I may as well admit the truth--it was.

After his recognition a year ago by Major Dundas Jabez returned to the Cape. There he found that his partner had sold their claim, and had levanted with the proceeds. The result is he returns here with nothing in his pocket, and once again throws himself on me."

"Of course--exactly," said Mrs. Parsley grimly. "I know the breed. And how much did you give him?"

"Thirty pounds--it was all I had. But I made him promise never to trouble me again. Yes; and he agreed. He's going to America."

"Agreed! My dear, in spite of all your troubles, you are as innocent as a baby. The only way you'll ever get rid of that man is to tell the truth and have him put in gaol. Promises! Bah! _His_ promises! He'll not go to America, not he! He'll spend the thirty pounds and come back for more, that's what _he'll_ do, and you'll have him like a black dog on your shoulders all your life, unless----" Mrs. Parsley rubbed her nose.

"Unless what?"

"Well, my dear, to tell you the truth, I'm not exactly clear in my own mind as to the position. This Farren knows what Jabez has done, since Barton employed him to find it out. Now that Barton is dead, and Farren we may safely say is hard up, I rather fancy your thirty pounds'll go in blackmail. Or else Jabez, to escape the other man's clutches, will make for the States after all."

"Oh, I only hope he does. It would be awful if, after so long, he were to be given up to the police--you don't think really that will happen, Mrs. Parsley, do you?"

"Depends entirely, I should say, on his willingness to be bled. But anyhow I don't see why you should mind, my dear."

"Oh, Mrs. Parsley, whatever Jabez has done--whatever he is, he is my brother."

"Humph! There is a limit even to fraternal affection to my thinking.

Jabez is a bad, bad man, and all your goodness won't turn him into a good one. While he has you to fall back upon he will never do any good for himself. Leave him to Farren's clutches, my dear, and let the pair of them kick it out in the mud."

"But if Jabez gets into trouble his real name will become known. Then think of the disgrace to me."

"Fiddle-de-dee; n.o.body can disgrace you but your own self. Besides, if the name of Jabez Crane does appear in the police report, who's going to connect it with you? There are hundreds of Cranes in the world."

"Mrs. Darrow, Major Dundas."

"What, that Julia creature?" Mrs. Parsley snapped her fingers. "My love, her opinion is not worth _that_. She has all the instincts but none of the brains of a really bad woman. As to Major Dundas, what can he know more than he knows already?"

"He doesn't know everything."