"Dear Dick,--Don't blame me for going. I must take work when it
comes; and honestly, for reasons I can't explain, I am glad to go.--
Yours, F.P."
"Must be genuine," thought Richard. "Well, it has happened at a good
time. I'm glad he has gone."
Then a thought struck him.
He and Humphrey might divide the estate. But, no, he drove it away; he
would be honest.
"Shall I go over to Saint Kitt's and fetch Mr Lawyer Dancer, sir?" said
Humphrey.
"Say no more about it, for Heaven's sake!" exclaimed Richard. "I want
no advice--I want nothing--only this, Humphrey, that you will forgive
those old people--my--my parents. Let them have money to the end of
their days, even if it is not deserved."
"Oh, but Master Richard."
"And promise me that you will not allow any prosecution and punishment
to be held over their heads."
"Is it likely, Master Richard?" said Humphrey, laughing.
"Now let me have a few hours to myself, to collect my thoughts, and
write a few letters."
Humphrey leaped from his chair.
"'Bout draining the little meadow, sir?" he said. "Shall I set the men
on? The tiles is come."
Richard's face contracted with pain, and then a bitter smile crossed it.
"My dear Humphrey," he said, taking his hand, "can you not realise your
position? You are master here."
"No, sir," cried Humphrey, flinging down his hat, and then picking it
up--"I'll be blessed if I can. This has put my head all in a buzz, like
bees swarming, and I can't understand it a bit."
He left the room, and Richard gave a sigh of relief, seating himself at
his table, and taking up a pen to write; but only to rest his head upon
his hand, and stare before him, dazed--crushed.
"Please, sir, Mrs Lloyd says can you make it convenient to see her?"
said the footman; and then he started back, astounded at his master's
anger.
"No," roared Richard, "I will see no one. Let me be left alone."
Then he hastily wrote a letter to Pratt, and fastened it down before
dropping it in the letter-bag, and threw it into the hall.
He had hardly finished before, knocking first softly, Lloyd opened the
door, to stand trembling before him.
Richard pointed to the door.
"Go," he said, hoarsely. "I can't talk to you now. Another time--in a
week--in a month--wait until then."
"But--"
"Go--for Heaven's sake, go!" cried Richard, frantically.
He was left alone.
Next came a note in pencil from Mrs Lloyd.
"My dearest Boy--Forgive me; it was for your sake I did all this.
Pray be careful, for I fear Humphrey has some suspicion. Do see me,
and give me your advice.
"M.J.L."
"Poor woman!" he muttered, tearing the note bit by bit into tiny
fragments. "Her plan is destroyed, save that this niece--my fair
cousin, Polly--will sit in the seat she intended, without poor Humphrey
is spoiled by prosperity. Poor fellow! It will be a hard trial for
him.
"Be careful?" he said, laughing in a strange, harsh fashion. "Does she
think I am going to remain her accomplice in this horrible fraud?"
He sat down, then, to think; but his brain was in a whirl, and he gave
up in despair.
At last he woke up to the fact that it was growing late, and he
remembered that he was to have accompanied the Reas on an expedition
that afternoon, and now it was past six. They must have been and
returned.
What would poor Tiny think?
A cold, chilling feeling of despair came over him now. What would she
think? Yes, how would she take it? All must be over between them now--
at least, for some years to come.
A servant announced dinner, and he bade him send it back. Locking the
door after him, he sat down in an easy-chair, conscious that several
times there had been knocks at the door, but paying no heed whatever.
Night fell, and he had not moved; and then, in a strange, fitful, dreamy
fashion, the night passed away.
He must have dozed at times, he knew; for his thoughts had wandered off
into dreams, and the dreams had trailed off in turn into thoughts; and
now it was morning, for the grey light was streaming through the antique
casement, and a feint glow overhead told of the rising sun.
He threw open the windows, and the cool morning breeze, fresh from the
Atlantic, seemed to calm and refresh him. His thoughts grew more
collected; and at last he left the window, and went out into the hall,
to seek his bedroom.
A bitter smile crossed his lip as he noticed the luxurious air of wealth
about him, and then a sigh drew his attention to the fact that the cause
of all his agony had been watching at his door the night through, and
was now on her knees stretching out her hands as if in supplication for
pardon.
"Oh, my boy--my boy, what are you going to do," she groaned.
"Do?" he said, bitterly, as she crept to his feet. "Act like the
gentleman you wanted me to be."
"What do you mean, Richard--my son? There, I give up about Polly. I'll
never say another word. You shall do as you like."
"I need not ask you if what you told me yesterday was true," he said,
calmly. "Well, we must make amends."
"How? What do you mean?" she said, starting up.
"Mean? Why, by giving up everything to the rightful owner, and leaving
him possession at once."
"Richard," she cried, passionately, catching him by the arm, "you would
not be so mad."
"I shall be so honest," he said.
"What, give up--give up everything to Humphrey?"
"Everything," he said, coldly, "and at once."
"You're mad--mad!" gasped Mrs Lloyd. "And after all I have done for
you--to make you a gentleman."
"These are its effects," he said, bitterly. "You made me a gentleman--I
wish to act as one."
"But, Richard--think--your father--your old mother--we shall be turned
out in disgrace--to starve," she cried, piteously.
"Mother, I cannot help the disgrace," he said, coldly. "I would save
you if I could, but the disgrace would be greater to keep up this
horrible imposture."
"Hush!" she whispered, "the servants will soon be down--they may hear
us. Oh, you cannot mean, Richard, what you say."
"I told Humphrey yesterday," continued Richard, "that I begged he would
care for you; but that is only for the present. As soon as I can find
means to earn my bread, I will keep you both myself; so that you shall
be spared the disgrace of taking alms from the man you wronged."
"Fool--idiot--mad boy!" hissed Mrs Lloyd, seizing his arm angrily, and
shaking it. "You shall not act like this. I've been nearly thirty
years building this up, and do you think I will have it crushed down
like that? Say a word if you dare!"
"If I dare!" exclaimed Richard. "Do you know that Humphrey does more
than suspect, that he knows all--heard all from your own lips in the
lane yesterday?"
Mrs Lloyd's jaw dropped.
"The true-hearted, honest fellow refused to take advantage of his
position."
"Of course, yes," cried Mrs Lloyd. "We'll pay him out, and let him go.
Yes, he shall have Polly," she added, with a look of pleasure on her
troubled face.
"Enough of this," said Richard, firmly. "Loose my arm. Some day I may
be able to talk to you again. Now, go to your room, and make
arrangements either for leaving, or make your peace with your new lord.
He loves little Polly, and that will act as a shield for you."
"I say you shall not give in," cried Mrs Lloyd, in a hoarse, angry
voice.
But he dragged his arm free, and dashed up the stairs.
End of Volume Two.
Volume 3, Chapter I.