“For the matter of that nobody says you are,” said Moulder.
“And I don’t mean, Mr. Moulder. Why should I? I can pay my way, and do what I like with my own, and has people to mind me when I speak, and needn’t mind nobody else myself;—and that’s more than everybody can say. Here’s John Kenneby and I, is engaged as man and wife. He won’t say as it’s not so, I’ll be bound.”
“No,” said Kenneby, “I’m engaged I know.”
“When I accepted John Kenneby’s hand and heart—and well I remember the beauteous language in which he expressed his feelings, and always shall—I told him, that I respected him as a man that would do his duty by a woman, though perhaps he mightn’t be so cute in the way of having much to say for himself as some others. ‘What’s the good,’ said I, ‘of a man’s talking, if so be he’s ashamed to meet the baker at the end of the week?’ So I listened to the vows he made me, and have considered that he and I was as good as one. Now that he’s been put upon by them lawyers, I’m not the woman to turn my back upon him.”
“That you’re not,” said Moulder.
“No I ain’t, Mr. Moulder, and so, John, there’s my hand again, and you’re free to take it if you like.” And so saying she put forth her hand almost into his lap.
“Take it, John!” said Mrs. Moulder. But poor Kenneby himself did not seem to be very quick in availing himself of the happiness offered to him. He did raise his right arm slightly; but then he hesitated, and allowed it to fall again between him and his sister.
“Come, John, you know you mean it,” said Mrs. Moulder. And then with both her hands she lifted his, and placed it bodily within the grasp of Mrs. Smiley’s, which was still held forth to receive it.
“I know I’m engaged,” said Kenneby.
“There’s no mistake about it,” said Moulder.
“There needn’t be none,” said Mrs. Smiley, softly blushing; “and I will say this of myself—as I have been tempted to give a promise, I’m not the woman to go back from my word. There’s my hand, John; and I don’t care though all the world hears me say so.” And then they sat hand in hand for some seconds, during which poor Kenneby was unable to escape from the grasp of his bride elect. One may say that all chance of final escape for him was now gone by.
“But he can’t say as how it was the old gentlemen’s will as we signed,” said Bridget, breaking the silence which ensued.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” said Kantwise, “as Mrs. Bolster has come back to that matter, I’ll tell you something that will surprise you. My friend Mr. Moulder here, who is as hospitable a gentleman as I know anywhere wouldn’t just let me speak before.”
“That’s gammon, Kantwise. I never hindered you from speaking.”
“How I do hate that word. If you knew my aversion, Mr. Moulder—”
“I can’t pick my words for you, old fellow.”
“But what were you going to tell us, Mr. Kantwise?” said Mrs. Smiley.
“Something that will make all your hairs stand on end, I think.” And then he paused and looked round upon them all. It was at this moment that Kenneby succeeded in getting his hand once more to himself. “Something that will surprise you all, or I’m very much mistaken. Lady Mason has confessed her guilt.”
He had surprised them all. “You don’t say so,” exclaimed Mrs. Moulder.
“Confessed her guilt,” said Mrs. Smiley. “But what guilt, Mr. Kantwise?”
“She forged the will,” said Kantwise.
“I knew that all along,” said Bridget Bolster.
“I’m d⸺ if I believe it,” said Moulder.
“You can do as you like about that,” said Kantwise; “but she has. And I’ll tell you what’s more: she and young Mason have already left Orley Farm and given it all up into Joseph Mason’s hands.”
“But didn’t she get a verdict?” asked Snengkeld.
“Yes, she got a verdict. There’s no doubt on earth about that.”
“Then it’s my opinion she can’t make herself guilty if she wished it; and as for the property, she can’t give it up. The jury has found a verdict, and nobody can go beyond that. If anybody tries she’ll have her action against ’em.” That was the law as laid down by Snengkeld.
“I don’t believe a word of it,” said Moulder. “Dockwrath has told him. I’ll bet a hat that Kantwise got it from Dockwrath.”
It turned out that Kantwise had received his information from Dockwrath; but nevertheless, there was that in his manner, and in the nature of the story as it was told to them, that did produce belief. Moulder for a long time held out, but it became clear at last that even he was shaken; and now, even Kenneby acknowledged his conviction that the signature to the will was not his own.
“I know’d very well that I never did it twice,” said Bridget Bolster triumphantly, as she sat down to the supper table.
I am inclined to think, that upon the whole the company in Great St. Helen’s became more happy as the conviction grew upon them that a great and mysterious crime had been committed, which had baffled two courts of law, and had at last thrust itself forth into the open daylight through the workings of the criminal’s conscience. When Kantwise had completed his story, the time had come in which it behoved Mrs. Moulder to descend to the lower regions, and give some aid in preparation of the supper. During her absence the matter was discussed in every way, and on her return, when she was laden with good things, she found that all the party was contented except Moulder and her brother.
“It’s a very terrible thing,” said Mrs. Smiley, later in the evening, as she sat with her steaming glass of rum and
