CHAPTER XX.
TWO WITNESSES.
Mr. Prendergast had given himself two days to do all that was tobe done, before he told Herbert Fitzgerald the whole of the familyhistory. He had promised that he would then let him know all thatthere was to be known; and he had done so advisedly, consideringthat it would be manifestly unjust to leave him in the dark an hourlonger than was absolutely necessary. To expect that Sir Thomashimself should, with his own breath and his own words, make therevelation either to his son or to his wife, was to expect a manifestimpossibility. He would, altogether, have sank under such aneffort, as he had already sank under the effort of telling it to Mr.Prendergast; nor could it be left to the judgment of Sir Thomas tosay when the story should be told. He had now absolutely abandonedall judgment in the matter. He had placed himself in the hands of afriend, and he now expected that that friend should do all that therewas to be done. Mr. Prendergast had therefore felt himself justifiedin making this promise.
But how was he to set about the necessary intervening work, and howpass the intervening hours? It had already been decided that Mr.Abraham Mollett, when he called, should be shown, as usual, into thestudy, but that he should there find himself confronted, not with SirThomas, but with Mr. Prendergast. But there was some doubt whetheror no Mr. Mollett would come. It might be that he had means ofascertaining what strangers arrived at Castle Richmond; and itmight be, that he would, under the present circumstances, think itexpedient to stay away. This visit, however, was not to take placetill the second day after that on which Mr. Prendergast had heard thestory; and, in the meantime, he had that examination of Mrs. Jones toarrange and conduct.
The breakfast was again very sad. The girls suggested to theirbrother that he and Mr. Prendergast should sit together by themselvesin a small breakfast parlour, but to this he would not assent.Nothing could be more difficult or embarrassing than a conversationbetween himself and that gentleman, and he moreover was unwilling tolet it be thought in the household that affairs were going utterlywrong in the family. On this matter he need hardly have disturbedhimself, for the household was fully convinced that things weregoing very wrong. Maid-servants and men-servants can read themeaning of heavy brows and sad faces, of long meetings and whisperedconsultations, as well as their betters. The two girls, therefore,and Aunt Letty, appeared at the breakfast-table, but it was as thoughso many ghosts had assembled round the urn.
Immediately after breakfast, Mr. Prendergast applied to Aunt Letty."Miss Fitzgerald," said he, "I think you have an old servant of thename of Jones living here."
"Yes, sure," said Aunt Letty. "She was living with my sister-in-lawbefore her marriage."
"Exactly,--and ever since too, I believe," said Mr. Prendergast,with a lawyer's instinctive desire to divert suspicion from the truepoint.
"Oh yes, always; Mrs. Jones is quite one of ourselves."
"Then would you do me the favour to beg Mrs. Jones to oblige me withher company for half an hour or so. There is an excellent fire in myroom, and perhaps Mrs. Jones would not object to step there."
Aunt Letty promised that Mrs. Jones should be sent, merely suggestingthe breakfast-parlour, instead of the bed-room; and to thebreakfast-parlour Mr. Prendergast at once betook himself. "What canshe know about the London property, or about the Irish property?"thought Aunt Letty, to herself; and then it occurred to her that,perhaps, all these troubles arose from some source altogetherdistinct from the property.
In about a quarter of an hour, a knock came to the breakfast-parlourdoor, and Mrs. Jones, having been duly summoned, entered the roomwith a very clean cap and apron, and with a very low curtsey. "Goodmorning, Mrs. Jones," said Mr. Prendergast; "pray take a seat;" andhe pointed to an arm-chair that was comfortably placed near the fire,on the further side of the hearth-rug. Mrs. Jones sat herself down,crossed her hands on her lap, and looked the very personification ofmeek obedience.
And yet there was something about her which seemed to justify thesoubriquet of duchess, which the girls had given to her. She had acertain grandeur about her cap, and a majestical set about the skirtof her dress, and a rigour in the lines of her mouth, which indicateda habit of command, and a confidence in her own dignity, which mightbe supposed to be the very clearest attribute of duchessdom.
"You have been in this family a long time, I am told, Mrs. Jones,"said Mr. Prendergast, using his pleasantest voice.
"A very long time indeed," said Mrs. Jones.
"And in a very confidential situation, too. I am told by Sir Thomasthat pretty nearly the whole management of the house is left in yourhands?"
"Sir Thomas is very kind, sir; Sir Thomas always was very kind,--poorgentleman!"
"Poor gentleman, indeed! you may well say that, Mrs. Jones. Thisfamily is in great affliction; you are no doubt aware of that." AndMr. Prendergast as he spoke got up, went to the door, and saw that itwas firmly closed.
Mrs. Jones acknowledged that she was aware of it. "It wasimpossible," she said, "for servants to shut their eyes to things, ifthey tried ever so."
"Of course, of course," said Mr. Prendergast; "and particularly for aperson so attached to them all as you are."
"Well, Mr. Pendrergrass, I am attached to them, certainly. I haveseed 'em all born, sir--that is, the young ladies and Mr. Herbert.And as for her ladyship, I didn't see her born, in course, for we'reboth of an age. But it comes much to the same thing, like."
"Exactly, exactly; you are quite one of themselves, as Sir Thomas'ssister said to me just now. 'Mrs. Jones is quite one of ourselves.'Those were her very words."
"I'm sure I'm much obliged to Miss Letty."
"Well, as I was saying, a great sorrow has come upon them all, Mrs.Jones. Now will you tell me this--do you know what it is? Can youguess at all? Do the servants know, down stairs?"
"I'd rather not be guessing on any such matters, Mr. Pendrergrass.And as for them, if they were impudent enough for the like, they'dnever dare to tell me. Them Irish servants is very impudent betimes,only they're good at the heart too, and there isn't one'd hurt a dogbelonging to the family."
"I am sure they would not," said Mr. Prendergast. "But you yourself,you don't know what this trouble is?"
"Not a know," said Mrs. Jones, looking down and smoothing her apron.
"Well, now. Of course you understand, Mrs. Jones--and I must explainthis to you to account for my questions. Of course you understandthat I am here as Sir Thomas's friend, to set certain matters rightfor him if I can."
"I supposed as much as that, if you please, sir."
"And any questions that I may ask you, I ask altogether on hisbehalf--on his behalf and on that of his wife, Lady Fitzgerald. Itell you, that you may have no scruples as to answering me."
"Oh, sir, I have no scruples as to that. But of course, sir, inanything I say I must be guided by--by--"
"By your own judgment you were going to say."
"Yes, sir; begging pardon for mentioning such a thing to the likes ofyou, sir."
"Quite right; quite right. Everybody should use their own judgment ineverything they do or say, more or less. But now, Mrs. Jones, I wantto know this: you remember her ladyship's first marriage, I daresay."
"Yes, sir, I remember it," said Mrs. Jones, shaking her head.
"It was a sad affair, wasn't it? I remember it well, though I wasvery young then. So were you too, Mrs. Jones."
"Young enough, surely, sir; and foolish enough too. We were the mostof us that, then, sir."
"True, true; so we were. But you remember the man, don't you--herladyship's husband? Mr. Talbot, he called himself." And Mr.Prendergast took some trouble to look as though he did not at allwish to frighten her.
"Yes, I do remember him." This she said after a considerable pause."But it is a very long time ago, you know, Mr. Pendrergrass."
"A very long time. But I am sure you do remember. You lived in thehouse, you know, for some months."
"Yes, I did. He was my master for three months, or thereabouts; andto tell the trut
h, I never got my wages for those three months yet.But that's neither here nor there."
"Do you believe now, Mrs. Jones, that that Mr. Talbot is stillalive?" He asked the question in a very soft voice, and endeavourednot to startle her by his look as he did so. But it was necessary tohis purpose that he should keep his eye upon her. Half the answer tohis question was to be conveyed by the effect on the muscles of herface which that question would produce. She might perhaps commandher voice to tell a falsehood, but be unable to command her face tosupport it.
"Believe what, sir?" said she, and the lawyer could immediatelyperceive that she did believe and probably knew that that man who hadcalled himself Talbot was still alive.
"Do you believe, Mrs. Jones, that he is alive--her ladyship's formerhusband, you know?"
The question was so terrible in its nature, that Mrs. Jonesabsolutely shook under it. Did she think that that man was stillalive? Why, if she thought that what was she to think of herladyship? It was in that manner that she would have answered thequestion, had she known how; but she did not know; she had thereforeto look about her for some other words which might be equallyevasive. Those which she selected served her turn just as well. "Lordbless you, sir!" she said. It was not that the words were expressive,but the tone was decidedly so. It was as though she said, "How canthat man be alive, who has been dead these twenty years and more?"But nevertheless, she was giving evidence all the time against thecause of her poor mistress.
"You think, then, that he is dead?"
"Dead, sir! Oh, laws! why shouldn't he be dead?" And then there was apause between them for a couple of minutes.
"Mrs. Jones," said Mr. Prendergast, when he had well considered thematter, "my belief is that your only object and wish is to do good toyour master and mistress."
"Surely, sir, surely; it would be my bounden duty to do them good, ifI knew how."
"I will tell you how. Speak out to me the whole truth openly andfreely. I am here as the friend of Sir Thomas and of her ladyship. Hehas sent to me that I may advise him what to do in a great troublethat has befallen him, and I cannot give him good advice till I knowthe truth."
"What good could it do him, poor gentleman, to know that that man isalive?"
"It will do him good to know the truth; to know whether he be aliveor no. Until he knows that he cannot act properly."
"Poor gentleman! poor gentleman!" said Mrs. Jones, putting herhandkerchief up to her eyes.
"If you have any information in this matter--and I think you have,Mrs. Jones--or even any suspicion, it is your duty to tell me."
"Well, sir, I'm sure I don't say against that. You are Sir Thomas'sfriend to be sure, and no doubt you know best. And I'm a poorignorant woman. But to speak candidly, sir, I don't feel myself freeto talk on this matter. I haven't never made nor marred since I'vebeen in this family, not in such matters as them. What I've seed,I've kep' to myself, and when I've had my suspecs, as a womancan't but have 'em, I've kep' them to myself also. And saving yourpresence, sir, and meaning no offence to a gentleman like you," andhere she got up from her chair and made another curtsey, "I thinkI'd liefer hold my tongue than say anything more on this matter."And then she remained standing as though she expected permission toretire.
But there was still another pause, and Mr. Prendergast sat looking atthe fire. "Don't you know, ma'am," at last he said, with almost anangry voice, "that the man was here, in this house, last week?" Andnow he turned round at her and looked her full in the face. He didnot, however, know Mrs. Jones. It might be difficult to coax herinto free communication, but it was altogether out of his power tofrighten her into it.
"What I knows, sir, I knows," said she, "and what I don't know, Idon't know. And if you please, sir, Lady Fitzgerald--she's my missus;and if I'm to be said anything more to about this here matter, why,I'd choose that her ladyship should be by." And then she made alittle motion as though to walk towards the door, but Mr. Prendergastmanaged to stop her.
"But we want to spare Lady Fitzgerald, if we can--at any rate for awhile," said he. "You would not wish to bring more sorrow upon her,would you?"
"God forbid, Mr. Pendrergrass; and if I could take the sorrow fromher heart, I would willingly, and bear it myself to the grave; forher ladyship has been a good lady to me. But no good never did come,and never will, of servants talking of their missusses. And so if youplease, sir, I'll make bold to"--and again she made an attempt toreach the door.
But Mr. Prendergast was not yet persuaded that he could not getfrom the good old woman the information that he wanted, and he waspersuaded that she had the information if only she could be prevailedupon to impart it. So he again stopped her, though on this occasionshe made some slight attempt to pass him by as she did so. "I don'tthink," said she, "that there will be much use in my staying herelonger."
"Wait half a minute, Mrs. Jones, just half a minute. If I could onlymake you understand how we are all circumstanced here. And I tell youwhat; though you will trust me with nothing, I will trust you witheverything."
"I don't want no trust, sir; not about all this."
"But listen to me. Sir Thomas has reason to believe--nay, he feelsquite sure--that this man is alive."
"Poor gentleman! poor gentleman!"
"And has been here in this house two or three times within the lastmonth. Sir Thomas is full sure of this. Now can you tell me whetherthe man who did come was this Talbot, or was not? If you can answerthat positively, either one way or the other, you will do a serviceto the whole family,--which shall not go unrewarded."
"I don't want no reward, sir. Ask me to tattle of them for rewards,after thirty years!" And she put her apron up to her eyes.
"Well, then, for the good of the family. Can you say positively thatthe man who came here to your master was Talbot, or that he was not?"
"Indeed then, sir, I can't say anything positively, nor for thatmatter, not impositively either." And then she shut herself updoggedly, and sat with compressed lips, determined to resist all thelawyer's arts.
Mr. Prendergast did not immediately give up the game, but he failedin learning from her any more than what she had already told him. Hefelt confident that she did know the secret of this man's existenceand presence in the south of Ireland, but he was forced to satisfyhimself with that conviction. So he let her go, giving her his handas she went in token of respect, and receiving her demure curtseywith his kindest smile. "It may be," thought he to himself, "that Ihave not done with her yet."
And then he passed another tedious day,--a day that was terriblytedious to them all. He paid a visit to Sir Thomas; but as thatarrangement about Mollett's visit had been made between them, it wasnot necessary that anything should be done or said about the businesson hand. It was understood that further action was to be stayed tillthat visit was over, and therefore for the present he had nothingto say to Sir Thomas. He did not see Lady Fitzgerald throughoutthe whole day, and it appeared to him, not unnaturally, that shepurposely kept out of his way, anticipating evil from his coming. Hetook a walk with Herbert and Mr. Somers, and was driven as far asthe soup-kitchen and mill at Berry Hill, inquiring into the state ofthe poor, or rather pretending to inquire. It was a pretence withthem all, for at the present moment their minds were intent on otherthings. And then there was that terrible dinner, that mockery of ameal, at which the three ladies were constrained to appear, but atwhich they found it impossible to eat or to speak. Mr. Somers hadbeen asked to join the party, so that the scene after dinner mightbe less painful; but even he felt that he could not talk as was hisordinary wont. Horrible suspicions of the truth had gradually comeupon him; and with a suspicion of such a truth--of such a tragedyin the very household--how could he, or how could any one hold aconversation? and then at about half-past nine, Mr. Prendergast wasagain in his bed-room.
On the next morning he was early with Sir Thomas, persuading him torelinquish altogether the use of his study for that day. On thatevening they were to have another interview there, in which Mr.Prendergast was
to tell his friend the result of what had been done.And then he had to arrange certain manoeuvring with the servants inwhich he was forced to obtain the assistance of Herbert. Mollettwas to be introduced into the study immediately on his arrival, andthis was to be done in such a manner that Mrs. Jones might assuredlybe ignorant of his arrival. On this duty our old friend Richardwas employed, and it was contrived that Mrs. Jones should be keptupstairs with her mistress. All this was difficult enough, but hecould not explain even to Herbert the reason why such schemingwas necessary. Herbert, however, obeyed in silence, knowing thatsomething dreadful was about to fall on them.
Immediately after breakfast Mr. Prendergast betook himself to thestudy, and there remained with his London newspaper in his hand. Adozen times he began a leading article, in which the law was laiddown with great perspicuity and certainty as to the present state ofIreland; but had the writer been treating of the Sandwich Islandshe could not have attracted less of his attention. He found itimpossible to read. On that evening he would have to reveal toHerbert Fitzgerald what was to be his fate!
Matthew Mollett at his last interview with Sir Thomas had promised tocall on this day, and had been counting the days till that one shouldarrive on which he might keep his promise. He was terribly in wantof cash, and as we all know Aby had entirely failed in raising thewind--any immediate fund of wind--on the occasion of his visit to thebaronet; and now, when this morning came, old Mollett was early onthe road. Aby had talked of going with him, but Aby had failed sosignally on the occasion of the visit which he did make to CastleRichmond, that he had been without the moral strength to persist inhis purpose.
"Then I shall write to the baronet and go alone to London," saidMollett, pere.
"Bother!" replied Mollett, fils. "You hain't got the cash, governor."
"I've got what 'll take me there, my boy, whether you know it or not.And Sir Thomas 'll be ready enough to send me a remittance when I'monce out of this country."
And so Aby had given way,--partly perhaps in terror of Mr. Somers'countenance; and Matthew Mollett started again in a covered caron that cold journey over the Boggeragh mountains. It was stillmid-winter, being now about the end of February, and the countrywas colder, and wetter, and more wretched, and the people in thatdesolate district more ragged and more starved than when he had lastcrossed it. But what were their rags and starvation to him? He wasworse off than they were. They were merely dying, as all men must do.But he was inhabiting a hell on earth, which no man need do. Theycame out to him in shoals begging; but they came in vain, gettingnothing from him but a curse through his chattering teeth. What righthad they to torment with their misery one so much more wretched thanthemselves?
At a little before twelve the covered car was at the front door ofCastle Richmond house, and there was Richard under the porch. Onformer occasions Mr. Mollett had experienced some little delayin making his way into the baronet's presence. The servants hadlooked cold upon him, and he had felt as though there might be hotploughshares under his feet at any step which he took. But noweverything seemed to be made easy. Richard took him in tow without amoment's delay, told him confidentially that Sir Thomas was waitingfor him, bade the covered car to be driven round into the yard witha voice that was uncommonly civil, seeing that it was addressed to aCork carman, and then ushered Mr. Mollett through the hall and downthe passage without one moment's delay. Wretched as he had beenduring his journey--wretched as an infernal spirit--his hopeswere now again elated, and he dreamed of a golden paradise. Therewas something pleasant in feeling his mastery over that poor oldshattered baronet.
"The gentleman to wait upon Sir Thomas," said Richard, opening thestudy door; and then Mr. Mollett senior found himself in the presenceof Mr. Prendergast.
Mr. Prendergast was sitting in a high-backed easy chair, facing thefire, when the announcement was made, and therefore Mollett stillfancied that he was in the presence of Sir Thomas until he was wellinto the room and the door was closed upon him; otherwise he mightprobably have turned on his heels and bolted. He had had three orfour interviews with Mr. Prendergast, having received differentsums of money from that gentleman's hands, and had felt on allsuch occasions that he was being looked through and through. Mr.Prendergast had asked but few questions, never going into the matterof his, Mollett's, pecuniary connexion with Sir Thomas; but therehad always been that in the lawyer's eye which had frightened themiscreant, which had quelled his bluster as soon as it was assumed,and had told him that he was known for a blackguard and a scoundrel.And now when this man, with the terrible gray eye, got up from SirThomas's chair, and wheeling round confronted him, looking him fullin the face, and frowning on him as an honest man does frown on anunconvicted rascal--when, I say, this happened to Mr. Mollett senior,he thoroughly at that moment wished himself back in London. He turnedhis eye round to the door, but that was closed behind him. He lookedaround to see whether Sir Thomas was there, but no one was in theroom with him but Mr. Prendergast. Then he stood still, and as thatgentleman did not address him, he was obliged to speak; the silencewas too awful for him--"Oh, Mr. Prendergast!" said he. "Is that you?"
"Yes, Mr. Mollett, it is I."
"Oh, ah--I suppose you are here about business of your own. I waswishing to see Sir Thomas about a little business of my own; maybehe's not in the way."
"No, he is not; not exactly. But perhaps, Mr. Mollett, I can do aswell. You have known me before, you know, and you may say to meopenly anything you have to say to Sir Thomas."
"Well; I don't know about that, sir; my business is with thebaronet--particular." Mr. Mollett, as he spoke, strained everynerve to do so without appearance of dismay; but his efforts werealtogether ineffectual. He could not bring himself to look Mr.Prendergast in the face for a moment, or avoid feeling like a dogthat dreads being kicked. All manner of fears came upon him, and hewould at the moment have given up all his hopes of money from theCastle Richmond people to have been free from Mr. Prendergast and hisinfluence. And yet Mollett was not a coward in the ordinary sense ofthe word. Indeed he had been very daring in the whole management ofthis affair. But then a course of crime makes such violent demandson a man's courage. Let any one think of the difference of attackinga thief, and being attacked as a thief! We are apt to call bad mencowards without much consideration. Mr. Mollett was not withoutpluck, but his pluck was now quelled. The circumstances were toostrong against him.
"Listen to me, Mr. Mollett--; and, look here, sir; never mindturning to the door; you can't go now till you and I have had someconversation. You may make up your mind to this: you will neversee Sir Thomas Fitzgerald again--unless indeed he should be in thewitness-box when you are standing in the dock."
"Mr. Prendergast; sir!"
"Well. Have you any reason to give why you should not be put in thedock? How much money have you got from Sir Thomas during the last twoyears by means of those threats which you have been using? You werewell aware when you set about this business that you were committingfelony; and have probably felt tolerably sure at times that you wouldsome day be brought up short. That day has come."
Mr. Prendergast had made up his mind that nothing could be gained bysoft usage with Mr. Mollett. Indeed nothing could be gained in anyway, by any usage, unless it could be shown that Mollett and Talbotwere not the same person. He could afford therefore to tell thescoundrel that he was a scoundrel, and to declare against him--war tothe knife. The more that Mollett trembled, the more abject he became,the easier would be the task Mr. Prendergast now had in hand. "Well,sir," he continued, "are you going to tell me what business hasbrought you here to-day?"
But Mr. Mollett, though he did shake in his shoes, did not look atthe matter exactly in the same light. He could not believe that SirThomas would himself throw up the game on any consideration, or thatMr. Prendergast as his friend would throw it up on his behalf. He,Mollett, had a strong feeling that he could have continued to dealeasily with Sir Thomas, and that it might be very hard to deal at allwith Mr. Prendergast; but nevertheless t
he game was still open. Mr.Prendergast would probably distrust the fact of his being the lady'shusband, and it would be for him therefore to use the indubitableproofs of the facts that were in his possession.
"Sir Thomas knows very well what I've come about," he began, slowly;"and if he's told you, why you know too; and in that case--."
But what might or might not happen in that case Mr. Mollett had notnow an opportunity of explaining, for the door opened and Mrs. Jonesentered the room.
"When that man comes this morning," Mr. Prendergast had said toHerbert, "I must get you to induce Mrs. Jones to come to us in thestudy as soon as may be." He had not at all explained to Herbert whythis was necessary, nor had he been at any pains to prevent the youngheir from thinking and feeling that some terrible mystery hung overthe house. There was a terrible mystery--which indeed would be moreterrible still when it ceased to be mysterious. He therefore quietlyexplained to Herbert what he desired to have done, and Herbert,awaiting the promised communication of that evening, quietly did ashe was bid.
"You must go down to him, Jones," he had said.
"But I'd rather not, sir. I was with him yesterday for two mortalhours; and, oh, Mr. Herbert! it ain't for no good."
But Herbert was inexorable; and Mrs. Jones, feeling herself overcomeby the weight of the misfortune that was oppressing them all, obeyed,and descending to her master's study, knocked at the door. She knewthat Mr. Prendergast was there, and she knew that Sir Thomas wasnot; but she did not know that any stranger was in the room with Mr.Prendergast. Mr. Mollett had not heard the knock, nor, indeed, hadMr. Prendergast; but Mrs. Jones having gone through this ceremony,opened the door and entered.
"Sir Thomas knows; does he?" said Mr. Prendergast, when Mollettceased to speak on the woman's entrance. "Oh, Mrs. Jones, goodmorning. Here is your old master, Mr. Talbot."
Mollett of course turned round, and found himself confronted with thewoman. They stared at each other for some moments, and then Mollettsaid, in a low dull voice, "Yes, she knows me; it was she that livedwith her at Tallyho Lodge."
"You remember him now, Mrs. Jones; don't you?" said Mr. Prendergast.
For another moment or two Mrs. Jones stood silent; and then sheacknowledged herself overcome, and felt that the world around her hadbecome too much for her. "Yes," said she, slowly; "I remembers him,"and then sinking into a chair near the door, she put her apron up toher eyes, and burst into tears.
"No doubt about that; she remembers me well enough," said Mollett,thinking that this was so much gained on his side. "But there ain'ta doubt about the matter at all, Mr. Prendergast. You look here,and you'll see it all as plain as black and white." And Mr. Mollettdragged a large pocket-book from his coat, and took out of it certaindocuments, which he held before Mr. Prendergast's eyes, still keepingthem in his own hand. "Oh, I'm all right; I am," said Mollett.
"Oh, you are, are you?" said the lawyer, just glancing at the paper,which he would not appear to heed. "I am glad you think so."
"If there were any doubt about it, she'd know," said he, pointingaway up towards the body of the house. Both Mr. Prendergast and Mrs.Jones understood well who was that she to whom he alluded.
"You are satisfied at any rate, Mrs. Jones," said the lawyer. ButMrs. Jones had hidden her face in her apron, and would not look up.She could not understand why this friend of the family should pushthe matter so dreadfully against them. If he would rise from hischair and destroy that wretch who stood before them, then indeed hemight be called a friend!
Mr. Prendergast had now betaken himself to the door, and was standingwith his back to it, and with his hands in his trousers-pockets,close to the chair on which Mrs. Jones was sitting. He had resolvedthat he would get that woman's spoken evidence out of her; and hehad gotten it. But now, what was he to do with her next?--with heror with the late Mr. Talbot of Tallyho Lodge? And having satisfiedhimself of that fact, which from the commencement he had neverdoubted, what could he best do to spare the poor lady who was soterribly implicated in this man's presence?
"Mrs. Jones," said he, standing over her, and gently touching hershoulder, "I am sorry to have pained you in this way; but it wasnecessary that we should know, without a doubt, who this man is,--andwho he was. Truth is always the best, you know. So good a woman asyou cannot but understand that."
"I suppose it is, sir,--I suppose it is," said Mrs. Jones, throughher tears, now thoroughly humbled. The world was pretty nearly atan end, as far as she was concerned. Here, in this very house ofCastle Richmond, in Sir Thomas's own room, was her ladyship's formerhusband, acknowledged as such! What further fall of the planet intobroken fragments could terrify, or drive her from her course morethoroughly than this? Truth! yes, truth in the abstract, might bevery good. But such a truth as this! how could any one ever say thatthat was good? Such was the working of her mind; but she took notrouble to express her thoughts.
"Yes," continued Mr. Prendergast, speaking still in a low voice, witha tone that was almost tender, "truth is always best. Look at thiswretched man here! He would have killed the whole family--destroyedthem one by one--had they consented to assist him in concealing thefact of his existence. The whole truth will now be known; and it isvery dreadful; but it will not be so dreadful as the want of truth."
"My poor lady! my poor lady!" almost screamed Mrs. Jones from underher apron, wagging her head, and becoming almost convulsive in hergrief.
"Yes, it is very sad. But you will live to acknowledge that even thisis better than living in that man's power."
"I don't know that," said Mollett. "I am not so bad as you'd make me.I don't want to distress the lady."
"No, not if you are allowed to rob the gentleman till there's not aguinea left for you to suck at. I know pretty well the extent of theevil that's in you. If we were to kick you from here to Cork, you'dforgive all that, so that we still allowed you to go on with yourtrade. I wonder how much money you've had from him altogether?"
"What does the money signify? What does the money signify?" said Mrs.Jones, still wagging her head beneath her apron. "Why didn't SirThomas go on paying it, and then my lady need know nothing about it?"
It was clear that Mrs. Jones would not look at the matter in aproper light. As far as she could see, there was no reason why afair bargain should not have been made between Mollett and SirThomas,--made and kept on both sides, with mutual convenience. Thatdoing of justice at the cost of falling heavens was not intelligibleto her limited philosophy. Nor did she bethink herself, that aleech will not give over sucking until it be gorged with blood. Mr.Prendergast knew that such leeches as Mr. Mollett never leave theskin as long as there is a drop of blood left within the veins.
Mr. Prendergast was still standing against the door, where he hadplaced himself to prevent the unauthorized departure of either Mrs.Jones or Mr. Mollett; but now he was bethinking himself that he mightas well bring this interview to an end. "Mr. Mollett," said he, "youare probably beginning to understand that you will not get much moremoney from the Castle Richmond family?"
"I don't want to do any harm to any of them," said Mollett, humbly;"and if I don't make myself troublesome, I hope Sir Thomas willconsider me."
"It is out of your power, sir, to do any further harm to any of them.You don't pretend to think that after what has passed, you can haveany personal authority over that unfortunate lady?"
"My poor mistress! my poor mistress!" sobbed Mrs. Jones.
"You cannot do more injury than you at present have done. No one isnow afraid of you; no one here will ever give you another shilling.When and in what form you will be prosecuted for inducing Sir Thomasto give you money, I cannot yet tell. Now, you may go; and I stronglyadvise you never to show your face here again. If the people abouthere knew who you are, and what you are, they would not let you offthe property with a whole bone in your skin. Now go, sir. Do you hearme?"
"Upon my word, Mr. Prendergast, I have not intended any harm!"
"Go, sir!"
"And even now, Mr. Prendergast
, it can all be made straight, and Iwill leave the country altogether, if you wish it--"
"Go, sir!" shouted Mr. Prendergast. "If you do not move at once, Iwill ring the bell for the servants!"
"Then, if misfortune comes upon them, it is your doing, and notmine," said Mollett.
"Oh, Mr. Pendrergrass, if it can be hushed up--" said Mrs. Jones,rising from her chair and coming up to him with her hands claspedtogether. "Don't send him away in your anger; don't'ee now, sir.Think of her ladyship. Do, do, do;" and the woman took hold of hisarm, and looked up into his face with her eyes swimming with tears.Then going to the door she closed it, and returning again, touchedhis arm, and again appealed to him. "Think of Mr. Herbert, sir, andthe young ladies! What are they to be called, sir, if this man is tobe my lady's husband? Oh, Mr. Pendrergrass, let him go away, out ofthe kingdom; do let him go away."
"I'll be off to Australia by the next boat, if you'll only say theword," said Mollett. To give him his due, he was not at that momentthinking altogether of himself and of what he might get. The idea ofthe misery which he had brought on these people did, to a certainmeasure, come home to him. And it certainly did come home to himalso, that his own position was very perilous.
"Mrs. Jones," said the lawyer, seeming to pay no attention whateverto Mollett's words, "you know nothing of such men as that. If I wereto take him at his word now, he would turn upon Sir Thomas againbefore three weeks were over."
"By ----, I would not! By all that is holy, I would not. Mr.Prendergast, do--."
"Mr. Mollett, I will trouble you to walk out of this house. I havenothing further to say to you."
"Oh, very well, sir." And then slowly Mollett took his departure,and finding his covered car at the door, got into it without sayinganother word to any of the Castle Richmond family.
"Mrs. Jones," said Mr. Prendergast, as soon as Mollett was gone, "Ibelieve I need not trouble you any further. Your conduct has done yougreat honour, and I respect you greatly as an honest woman and anaffectionate friend."
Mrs. Jones could only acknowledge this by loud sobs.
"For the present, if you will take my advice, you will say nothing ofthis to your mistress."
"No, sir, no; I shall say nothing. Oh, dear! oh dear!"
"The whole matter will be known soon, but in the mean time, we may aswell remain silent. Good day to you." And then Mrs. Jones also leftthe room, and Mr. Prendergast was alone.