CHAPTER XXI
"I shall see you again to-morrow, and tell you what is my intention,"were the words with which Bennet had left Eversleigh, and they rang inthe ears of the solicitor like a knell. He knew he was in Bennet'spower, and as he thought of Harry and the character of the young man hetold himself it was useless to expect mercy or even consideration of anykind.
"The day of reckoning," he moaned, "has indeed come."
He asked himself if there was any one to whom he could appeal forassistance in his extremity; but he could think of no one, and even ifsuch a friend had existed, it would now be too late to appeal to him forhelp, because Bennet knew enough--and more than enough--to send him toprison.
This was in his mind when Gilbert, passing up the stairs on which he hadencountered Bennet, came into his father's room. For one moment he had awild notion to tell his son everything, but quickly decided against it.
"I met Harry Bennet just now," remarked Gilbert, "and he seemed in a badhumour, to judge from the glance with which he favoured me. I supposeyou have been giving him a lecture?"
Giving Bennet a lecture!
The irony of the thing smote Francis Eversleigh. Again he wondered if heshould tell Gilbert everything, and put some of the burden on the strongshoulders of his son; but no, he could not do it. And what could Gilbertdo to help him?
"Oh no," said Eversleigh, in reply to Gilbert's question; "I did notlecture him. He wanted money at a moment's notice, and I told him hemust wait a little."
"I see," responded Gilbert, and the conversation passed to other topics.
When Francis Eversleigh went home to Ivydene that evening he believed itmore than probable that he was going to it for the last time for manyyears, as he felt certain Bennet would have him arrested next day. Aftera sleepless night of agony and remorse, he took a mute but infinitelypathetic farewell of the place and the loved ones whose abode it was,before leaving it.
"D'you think you are well enough to go to the office to-day?" asked hiswife, doubtfully.
"Yes, dear," he replied, with more than usual tenderness in his voice."I'm quite well, and perhaps since Mr. Silwood's death, I give in toomuch to business worries; but there is nothing really the matter."
And he embraced her very fondly after he had said this, wondering in hisheart what she would think of him when she knew the truth, as she likelywould that very day.
Then he went to meet his fate.
His fate proved to be better and worse than he had expected.
The solicitor had scarcely arrived at 176, New Square, Lincoln's Inn,when Bennet made his appearance.
"Well, Harry," said Eversleigh, timidly, on seeing him.
"I have thought this business over," Bennet declared, "and I have cometo a determination. I shall not prosecute you. I shall take no action inthe matter, but there's a condition."
Francis Eversleigh could hardly believe his ears when he heard Bennet'swords, "I shall not prosecute you."
Involuntarily he gave a great sigh of relief.
But then there was a condition, Bennet had said. What was it? He wasthunderstruck when he heard what it was.
"I am willing not to prosecute you," continued Bennet, coolly, "on onecondition, and on one condition alone. You have acknowledged your guilt,but there is one way in which you may make good your--debt, let us callit--to me."
"Yes?" asked Eversleigh, as Harry stopped for an instant.
"It is the case," said Harry, speaking sharply, "is it not, that yourson Gilbert is engaged to Miss Thornton?"
"Certainly," replied Eversleigh, in a puzzled tone.
"You have a great deal of influence with your son?"
"Naturally."
"You and he are on the best of terms--many fathers and sons are not--butyou and Gilbert are very good friends."
"Undoubtedly."
"If I prosecute you, you will be convicted and sentenced?"
Eversleigh did not answer.
"Your conviction," Bennet went on remorselessly, "will infallibly coverGilbert with disgrace, to say nothing of the other members of yourfamily; his career at the Bar will be blighted. Is that not the case?"
Dry-lipped Eversleigh heard, but he could not trust himself to answer.
"Gilbert will be ruined--you know that is so. Now, do you think, withthis hanging over him, he is a proper person to marry Miss Thornton? Ofcourse, he is not."
Eversleigh groaned.
"Harry, spare me!" he cried.
But Bennet had no idea of sparing him.
"Your son Gilbert must not marry Miss Thornton; you must prevent himfrom doing so. Do you understand?"
"But this is monstrous, Harry," protested Eversleigh; "my influence overGilbert is not great enough for this."
"If that is so, then so much the worse for you. But not only must youuse your influence with Gilbert, you must also bring it to bear on MissThornton. You must tell her that she must not marry Gilbert. Now, do youunderstand?"
"I understand," returned Eversleigh, speaking for the first time duringthe conversation with some firmness; "but what you wish is impossible.Gilbert and Miss Thornton love each other. Gilbert is a man, he is nota child, and Miss Thornton is a woman and not a child either. Is itlikely that anything I said to them would make them break off theirengagement?"
"Gilbert and Miss Thornton love each other!"
These words were gall and wormwood to Bennet.
The sight of Gilbert the previous afternoon had revived his dormantdesire for revenge, and after much thought he had come to the conclusionto tell Francis Eversleigh that the price of his silence with regard tothe fraudulent sale of Beauclerk Mansions was that the solicitor mustuse pressure to get the match broken off, and not only that, but also toinduce the girl to marry him. It was rather a mad scheme, and if Bennethad really considered it fully he would probably have decided againstsuggesting it. It never struck him that he was conniving at fraud; if ithad, he would not have been deterred. He was a headstrong, reckless man,determined to get his own way, rightly or wrongly, and to get itwhatever happened.
"Wait," he said; "I have not finished yet. You must break off the match.How it is to be done I leave to you. You will find some means of doingit. The main point is that it be done. There must be no misunderstandingon that head. But there is more to be said: you must not only break offthe match, but you must forward my suit with Miss Thornton."
"Your suit with Miss Thornton!" cried Eversleigh.
"Yes; perhaps you were not aware that I proposed to her, but I was toolate. She had already accepted your son. You never heard that sherejected me?"
"I did not know it."
Eversleigh's thoughts went back to that day--the awful, fateful day inwhich Silwood had confessed his embezzlements--on which he had givenGilbert a hint of Bennet's advances to Kitty, and how, at the time hehad given it, life stretched before him bright and fair. He shuddered ashe recalled all that had happened since.
Bennet, watching him intently, saw the shudder that shook the frame ofthe solicitor, and, not knowing what was passing through the other'smind, misinterpreted it.
"The idea of my proposing to Miss Thornton makes you shudder, is thatit?" he asked fiercely and angrily. "It becomes you well--you, thecheat, the embezzler, the swindler."
Eversleigh looked at Bennet helplessly.
"You disapprove of me, you dare to disapprove of me for her!" Bennetcontinued. "Surely I am as good as your son!" he exclaimed withviolence, "the son of a thief!"
"Gilbert is as honest as the day," said Eversleigh, stung into speech.
"I know nothing about that," cried Bennet, scornfully. "But this is allbeside the mark. Gilbert is nothing to me; why should I consider him? Hestands between me and Kitty Thornton, and it will be your part to removehim from my path."
"How am I to do it? How am I to do it?" wailed Eversleigh.
Bennet regarded him with contempt.
"That lies with you," he said pitilessly. "I have already made thatquite clear. And you mu
st speak to Miss Thornton and tell her--oh, tellher anything, but tell her that she must marry me."
"Suppose I did tell her that, do you imagine that it would weigh withher, if it was not backed by some very strong, some overwhelmingreason?" asked Eversleigh, struggling to speak calmly with the youngman. "And what reason can I give? I cannot perform impossibilities.Surely you must admit that?"
"I admit nothing," snarled Bennet viciously.
The two men looked at each other; Eversleigh's face bore a hopeless andbeaten expression, Bennet's was savage and implacable.
For a space there was silence between them.
On Bennet Eversleigh's last words had made a certain impression, and hewas asking himself if, after all, his scheme would not work: he felt notthe least pity or compassion; but what if he had indeed set Eversleigh atask beyond his powers to accomplish? As he conversed with Eversleigh,he saw that what in his own home the previous evening had seemed asimple enough thing, was not simple at all. He saw that if Eversleigh,at his bidding, told the lovers that the match must be broken off, itdid not at all follow they would consent--unless they were told that inthis way, and this only, Eversleigh would be delivered from some greatand imminent danger. "Well," he thought, "that is what Eversleigh mustdo, and for the same reason Kitty must be brought to consent to marryme."
"You will speak to your son and Miss Thornton to-night?" Bennet saidaloud.
"To-night!"
"Why not? The sooner the better, surely!"
"Harry," said Eversleigh, making a last effort, "just consider theposition."
"What else am I doing?" Bennet broke out rudely.
"Have patience a moment, if not for my sake, then for your own. You wishme to tell Gilbert, whom by the way I shall not see to-night, that hemust have his engagement with Miss Thornton cancelled. Gilbert knowsperfectly that his marriage with Miss Thornton is the thing next myheart, and he will require from me an explanation. Am I to tell him thetruth? And it is the same in Miss Thornton's case. Am I to tell her thetruth also?"
"Certainly. Why not, pray?" asked Bennet, ruthlessly.
"I do not believe Gilbert will consent."
"He will, fast enough, to save you; for in saving you is he not savinghimself and his career?"
"But Miss Thornton," argued Eversleigh, "is not my child. She is of age.She is her own mistress. I have no power over her. How can I compel herto marry you?"
Bennet stood in sullen silence.
"She would marry me to save you from a convict's cell," he said at last."But as I understand you to mean that you will not speak to her on thismatter, I tell you what I'll do. I shall go to her myself, and tell herall I know. If she consents to marry me, then I shall spare you; if sherefuses--you can guess for yourself what will take place. And this is mylast word," added Bennet, and stalked out of the room.