With the same oath that brother told him he lied.
Here followed a pause, as when a train is fired and men are doubtful whether the mine will spring. The leaves rustled and the flies hummed happily outside as if those seconds were charged with nothing, and the big feeble bee, who had spent the morning in walking up a pane of glass and slipping down again, continued his stumbling exercise as if there was nothing else worth attending to for a mile round Carwell Grange.
Harry had set both heels on the ground at this talismanic word; one hand clenched had come from his pocket to his thigh, and from his eyes “leaped” the old Fairfield fury.
It was merely, as Harry would have said, the turn of a shilling, whether a Fairfield battle, short, sharp, and decisive, had not tried the issue at that instant.
“I don’t vally a hot word spoke in haste; it’s ill raising hands between brothers—let it pass. I’m about the last friend ye’ve left just now, and I don’t see why ye should seek to put a quarrel on me. It’s little to me, you know—no thanks, loss o’ time, and like to be more kicks than ha’pence.”
Harry spoke these words after a considerable pause.
“I was wrong, Harry, I mean, to use such a word, and I beg your pardon,” said Charles, extending his hand to his brother, who took his fingers and dropped them with a rather short and cold shake.
“Ye shouldn’t talk that way to a fellow that’s taken some trouble about ye, and ye know I’m short tempered—we all are, and ’tisn’t the way to handle me,” said Harry.
“I was wrong, I know I was, and I’m sorry—I can’t say more,” answered Charles. “But there it is! If there’s trouble about this little child that’s coming, what am I to do? Wouldn’t it be better for me to be in Wyvern churchyard?”
Harry lowered his eyes with his mouth still open, to the threadbare carpet. His hands were again both reposing quietly in his pockets.
After a silence he said—
“If you had told me anything about what was in your head concerning Alice Maybell, I’d a told you my mind quite straight; and if you ask it now, I can only tell you one thing, and that is, I think you’re married to t’other woman—I hate her like poison, but that’s nothing to do wi’ it, and I’d a been for making a clear breast of it, and telling Ally everything, and let her judge for herself. But you wouldn’t look before you, and you’re got into a nice pound, I’m afraid.”
“I’m not a bit afraid about it,” said Charles, very pale. “Only for the world, I would not have her frightened and vexed just now—and, Harry, there’s nothing like speaking out, as you say, and I can’t help thinking that your opinion [and at another time, perhaps, he would have added, your memory] is biased by the estate.”
Charles spoke bitterly or petulantly, which you will. But Harry seemed to have made up his mind to take this matter coolly, and so he did.
“Upon my soul I wouldn’t wonder,” he said, with a kind of laugh. “Though if it does I give you my oath I am not aware of it. But take it so if you like; it’s only saying a fellow loves his shirt very well, but his skin better, and I suppose so we do, you and me, both of us; only this I’ll say, ’twill be all straight and above board ’twixt you and me, and I’ll do the best I can for ye—you don’t doubt that?”
“No, Harry, you’ll not deceive me.”
“No, of course; and as I say, I think that brute—the Hoxton one—she’s took a notion in her head—”
“To give me trouble?”
“A notion,” continued Harry, “that there’s another woman in the case; and, if you ask me, I think she’ll not rest quiet for long. She says she’s your wife; and one way or another she’ll pitch into any girl that says the same for herself. She’s like a mad horse, you know, when she’s riled; and she’d kick through a wall and knock herself to pieces to get at you. I wish she was sunk in the sea.”
“Tell me, what do you think she is going to do?” asked Charles, uneasily.
“Upon my soul, I can’t guess; but ’twouldn’t hurt you, I think, if you kept fifty pounds or so in your pocket to give her the slip, if she should begin manoeuvring with any sort o’ dodges that looked serious; and if I hear any more I’ll let you know; and I’ve stayed here longer than I meant; and I ha’n’t seen Ally; but you’ll make my compliments, and tell her I was too hurried; and my nag’s had his feed by this time; and I’ve stayed too long.”
“Well, Harry, thank you very much. It’s a mere form asking you to remain longer; there’s nothing to offer you worth staying for; and this is such a place, and I so heartbroken—and—we part good friends—don’t we?”
“The best,” said Harry, carelessly. “Have you a cigar or two? Thanks; you may as well make it three—thank ye—jolly good ’uns. I’ve a smart ride before me; but I think I’ll make something of it, rayther. My hands are pretty full always. I’d give ye more time if they wasn’t; but keep your powder dry, and a sharp look out, and so will I, and gi’ my love to Ally, and tell her to keep up her heart, and all will go right, I dare say.”
By this time they had threaded the passage, and were in the stable-yard again; and mounting his horse, Harry turned, and with a wag of his head and a farewell grin, rode slowly over the pavement, and disappeared through the gate.
Charles was glad that he had gone without seeing Alice. She would certainly have perceived that something was wrong. He thought for a moment of going to
