Restitution
He had still the whole night to think about it,--and throughout the
whole night he was thinking about it. He had fixed a late hour in the
afternoon for his appointment in London, so that he might have an hour
or two in Cambridge before he started by the mid-day train. It was
during his drive into the town that he at last made up his mind that he
would not satisfy himself with discussing the matter with Mr. Seely, but
that he would endeavour to explain it all to Robert Bolton. No doubt
Robert Bolton was now his enemy, as were all the Boltons. But the
brother could not but be anxious for his sister's name and his sister's
happiness. If a way out of all this misery could be seen, it would be a
way out of misery for the Boltons as well as for the Caldigates. If only
he could make the attorney believe that Hester was in truth his wife,
still, even yet, there might be assistance on that side. But he went to
Mr. Seely first, the hour of his appointment requiring that it should be
so.
But Mr. Seely was altogether opposed to any arrangement with Mr. Bollum.
'No good was ever done,' he said, 'by buying off witnesses. The thing
itself is disreputable, and would to a certainty be known to every one.'
'I should not buy them off. I regard the money as their own. I will give
Crinkett the money and let him go or stay as he pleases. When giving him
the money, I will tell him that he may do as he pleases.'
'You would only throw your money away. You would do much worse than
throw it away. Their absence would not prevent the trial. The Boltons
will take care of that.'
'They cannot want to injure their own side, Mr. Seely.'
'They want to punish you, and to take her away. They will take care that
the trial shall go on. And when it was proved, as it would be proved,
that you had given these people a large sum of money, and had so secured
their absence, do you think that the jury would refuse to believe their
sworn depositions and whatever other evidence would remain? The fact of
your having paid them money would secure a verdict against you. The
thing would, in my mind, be so disreputable that I should have to throw
up the case. I could not defend you.'
It was clear to him that Bollum had understood his own side of the
question in deprecating any reference to an attorney. The money should
have been paid and the four witnesses sent away without a word to any
one,--if any attempt in that direction were made at all. Nevertheless he
went to Robert Bolton's office and succeeded in obtaining an interview
with his wife's brother. But here, as with the other attorney he failed
to make the man understand the state of his own mind. He had failed in
the same way even with his wife. If it were fit that the money should be
paid, it could not be right that he should retain it because the people
to whom it was due had told lies about him. And if this could be
explained to the jury, surely the jury would not give a verdict against
him on insufficient evidence, simply because he had done his duty in
paying the money!
Robert Bolton listened to him with patience and without any quick
expression of hot anger; though before the interview was over he had
used some very cruel words. 'We should think ourselves bound to prevent
their going, if possible.'
'Of course; I have no idea of going down to Plymouth as the man
proposed, or of taking any steps to secure their absence.'
'Your money is your own, and you can do what you like with it. It
certainly is not for me to advise you. If you tell me that you are going
to pay it, I can only say that I shall look very sharp after them.'
'Why should you want to ruin your sister?'
'You have ruined her. That is our idea. We desire now to rescue her as
far as we can from further evil. You have opposed us in every endeavour
that we have made. When in the performance of a manifest duty we
endeavoured to separate you till after the trial, you succeeded in
thwarting us by your influence.'
'I left it to her.'
'Had you been true and honest and upright, you would have known that as
long as there was a doubt she ought to have been away from you.'
'I should have sent her away?'
'Certainly.'
'So as to create a doubt in her mind, so as to disturb her peace, so as
to make her think that I, having been found out, was willing to be rid
of her? It would have killed her.'
'Better so than this.'
'And yet I am as truly her husband as you are the husband of your wife.
If you would only teach yourself to think that possible, then you would
feel differently.'
'Not as to a temporary separation.'
'If you believed me, you would,' said Caldigate.
'But I do not believe you. In a matter like this, as you will come to
me, I must be plain. I do not believe you. I think that you have
betrayed and seduced my sister. Looking at all the evidence and at your
own confession, I can come to no other conclusion. I have discussed the
matter with my brother, who is a clear, cool-headed, most judicious man,
and he is of the same opinion. In our own private court we have brought
you in guilty,--guilty of an offence against us all which necessarily
makes us as bitter against you as one man can be against another. You
have destroyed our sister, and now you come here and ask me my advice
as to buying off witnesses.'
'It is all untrue. As there is a God above me I am her loyal, loving
husband. I will buy off no witness.'
'If I were you I would make no such attempt. It will do no good. I do
not think that you have a chance of being acquitted,--not a chance; and
then how much worse it will be for Hester when she finds herself still
in your house!'
'She will remain there.'
'Even she will feel that to be impossible. Your influence will then
probably be removed, and I presume that for a time you will have no
home. But we need not discuss that. As you are here, I should not do my
duty were I not to assure you that as far as we are concerned,--Hester's
family,--nothing shall be spared either in trouble or money to insure
the conviction and punishment of the man whom we believe to have brought
upon us so terrible a disgrace.'
Caldigate, when he got out into the street, felt that he was driven
almost to despair. At first he declared to himself, most untruly, that
there was no one to believe him,--no, not one. Then he remembered how
faithful was his wife; and as he did so, in his misery, he told himself
that it might have been better for her had she been less faithful.
Looking at it all as he now looked at it, after hearing the words of
that hard man, he almost thought that it would have been so. Everybody
told him that he would be condemned; and if so, what would be the fate
of that poor young mother and her child? It was very well for her to
declare, with her arms round his neck, that even should he be dragged
away to prison, she would still be his true wife, and that she would
wait,--in sorrow indeed and mourning, but still with patience,--till the
cruel jailers and the harsh laws had restored him to her. If the law
declared him a bigamist, she could not then be his wife. The law must
decide,--whether rightly or wrongly, still must decide. And then how
could they live together? An evil done must be endured, let it be ever
so unendurable. But against fresh evils a man may guard. Was it not his
duty, his manifest, his chief duty, to save her, as far as she could be
saved, from further suffering and increased disgrace? Perhaps, after
all, Robert Bolton was right when he told him that he ought to have
allowed Hester to remain at Chesterton.
Whatever he might do when he got to London, he felt it to be his duty to
go up and keep his appointment with Bollum. And he brought with him from
home securities and certificates for stock by which he knew that he
could raise the sum named at a moment's warning, should he at last
decide upon paying the money. When he got into the train, and when he
got out of the train, he was still in doubt. Those to whom he had gone
for advice had been so hard to him, that he felt himself compelled to
put on one side all that they had said. Bollum had suggested, in his
graphic manner, that a lawyer and his client stood upon different legs.
Caldigate acknowledged to himself that Bollum was right. His own lawyer
had been almost as hard to him as his brother-in-law, who was his
declared enemy. But what should he do? As to precautions to be taken in
reference to the departure of the gang, all that was quite out of the
question. They should go to Australia or stay behind, as they pleased.
There should be no understanding that they were to go--or even that they
were to hold their tongues because the money was paid to them. It should
be fully explained to them that the two things were distinct. Then as he
was taken to the inn at which he intended to sleep that night, he made
up his mind in the cab that he would pay the money to Crinkett.
He got to London just in time to reach the bank before it was closed,
and there made his arrangements. He deposited his documents and
securities, and was assured that the necessary sum should be placed to
his credit on the following day. Then he walked across a street or two
in the City to the place indicated by Bollum for the appointment. It was
at the Jericho Coffee House, in Levant Court,--a silent, secluded spot,
lying between Lombard Street and Cornhill. Here he found himself ten
minutes before the time, and, asking for a cup of coffee, sat down at a
table fixed to the ground in a little separate box. The order was given
to a young woman at a bar in the room. Then an ancient waiter hobbled up
to him and explained that coffee was not quite ready. In truth, coffee
was not often asked for at the Jericho Coffee House. The house, said the
waiter, was celebrated for its sherry. Would he take half a pint of
sherry? So he ordered the sherry, which was afterwards drunk by Bollum.
Bollum came, punctual to the moment, and seated himself at the table
with good-humoured alacrity. 'Well, Mr. Caldigate, how is it to be? I
think you must have seen that what I have proposed will be for the
best.'
'I will tell you what I mean to do, Mr. Bollum,' said Caldigate, very
gravely. 'It cannot be said that I owe Mr. Crinkett a shilling.'
'Certainly not. But it comes very near owing, doesn't it?'
'So near that I mean to pay it.'
'That's right.'
'So near that I don't like to feel that I have got his money in my
pocket. As far as money goes, I have been a fortunate man.'
'Wonderful!' said Bollum, enthusiastically.
'And as I was once in partnership with your uncle, I do not like to
think that I enriched myself by a bargain which impoverished him.'
'It ain't nice, is it,--that you should have it all, and he nothing?'
'Feeling that very strongly,' continued Caldigate, merely shaking his
head in token of displeasure at Bollum's interruption, 'I have
determined to repay Mr. Crinkett an amount that seems to me to be fair.
He shall have back twenty thousand pounds.'
'He's a lucky fellow, and he'll be off like a shot;--like a shot.'
'He and others have conspired to rob me of all my happiness, thinking
that they might so most probably get this money from me. They have
invented a wicked lie,--a wicked damnable lie,--a damnable lie! They are
miscreants,--foul miscreants!'
'Come, come, Mr. Caldigate.'
'Foul miscreants! But they shall have their money, and you shall hear me
tell them when I give it to them,--and they must both be here to take it
from my hands,--that I do not at all require their absence. There is to
be no bargain between us. They are free to remain and swear their false
oaths against me. Whether they go or whether they stay will be no affair
of mine.'
'They'll go, of course, Mr. Caldigate.'
'Not at my instance. I will take care that that shall be known. They
must both come; and into their joint hands will I give the cheque, and
they must come prepared with a receipt declaring that they accept the
money as restitution of the loss incurred by them in purchasing the
Polyeuka mine from me. Do you understand? And I shall bring a witness
with me to see them take the money.' Bollum who was considerably
depressed by his companion's manner, said that he did understand.
'I suppose I can have a private room here, at noon to-morrow?' asked
Caldigate, turning to the woman at the bar.
When that was settled he assured Bollum that a cheque for the amount
should be placed in the joint hands of Timothy Crinkett and Euphemia
Smith if he, and they with him, would be there at noon on the following
day. Bollum in vain attempted to manage the payment without the
personal interview, but at last agreed that the man and the woman should
be forthcoming.
That night Caldigate dined at his Club, one of the University Clubs, at
which he had been elected just at the time of his marriage. He had
seldom been there, but now walked into the dinner-room, resolving that
he would not be ashamed to show himself. He fancied that everybody
looked at him, and probably there were some present who knew that he was
about to stand his trial for bigamy. But he got his dinner, and smoked
his cigar; and before the evening was over he had met an old College
friend. He was in want of a friend, and explained his wants. He told
something of his immediate story, and then asked the man to be present
at the scene on the morrow.
'I must have a witness, Gray,' said he, 'and you will do me a kindness
if you will come.' Then Mr. Gray promised to be present on the occasion.
On the following morning he met Gray at the Club, having the cheque
ready in his pocket, and together they proceeded to Levant Court. Again
he was a little before his time, and the two sat together in the gloomy
little room up-stairs. Bollum was the first to come, and when he saw the
stranger, was silent,--thinking whether it might not be best to escape
and warn Crinkett and the woman that all might not be safe. But the
stranger did not look like a detective; and, as he told himself, why
should there be danger? So he waited, and in a few minutes Crinkett
entered the room, with the woman veiled.
'Well, Caldigate,' said Crinkett, 'how is it with you?'
'If you please, Mrs. Smith,' said Caldigate, 'I must ask you to remove
your veil,--so that I may be sure that it is you.'
She removed her veil very slowly, and then stood looking him in the
face,--not full in the face, for she could not quite raise her eyes to
meet his. And though she made an effort to brazen it out, she could not
quite succeed. She attempted to raise her head, and carry herself with
pride; but every now and again there was a slight quiver,--slight, but
still visible. The effort, too, was visible. But there she stood,
looking at him, and to be looked at,--but without a word. During the
whole interview she never once opened her lips.
She had lost all her comeliness. It was now nearly seven years since
they two had been on the Goldfinder together, and then he had found her
very attractive. There was no attraction now. She was much aged; and her
face was coarse, as though she had taken to drinking. But there was
still about her something of that look of intellect which had captivated
him more, perhaps, than her beauty. Since those days she had become a
slave to gold,--and such slavery is hardly compatible with good looks in
a woman. There she stood,--ready to listen to him, ready to take his
money, but determined not to utter a word.
Then he took the cheque out of his pocket, and holding it in his hand,
spoke to them as follows: 'I have explained to Mr. Bollum, and have
explained to my friend here, Mr. Gray, the reasons which induce me to
pay to you, Timothy Crinkett, and to you, Euphemia Smith, the large sum
of twenty thousand pounds. The nature of our transactions has been such
that I feel bound in honour to repay so much of the price you paid for
the Polyeuka mine.'
'All right, Caldigate; all right,' said Crinkett.
'And I have explained also to both of them that this payment has nothing
whatever to do with the base, false, and most wicked charge which you
are bringing against me. It is not because that woman, by a vile
perjury, claims me as her husband, and because I wish to buy her silence
or his, that I make this restitution. I restore the money of my own free
will, without any base bargain. You can go on with your perjury or
abstain from it, as you may think best.'
'We understand, squire,' said Crinkett, affecting to laugh. 'You hand
over the money,--that's all.' Then the woman looked round at her
companion, and a frown came across her face; but she said nothing,
turning her face again upon Caldigate, and endeavouring to keep her eyes
steadfastly fixed upon him.
'Have you brought a receipt signed by both of you?' Then Bollum handed
him a receipt signed 'Timothy Crinkett, for self and partners.' But
Caldigate demanded that the woman also should sign it.
'There is a difficulty about the name, you see,' said Bollum. There was
a difficulty about the name, certainly. It would not be fair, he
thought, that he should force her to the use of a name she disowned, and
he did not wish to be hindered from what he was doing by her persistency
in calling herself by his own name.
'So be it,' said he. 'There is the cheque. Mr. Gray will see that I put
it into both their hands.' This he did, each of them stretching out a
hand to take it. 'And now you can go where you please and act as you
please. You have combined to rob me of all that I value most by the
basest of lies; but not on that account have I abstained from doing what
I believe to be an act of justice.' Then he left the room, and paying
for the use of it to the woman at the bar, walked off with his friend
Gray, leaving Crinkett, Bollum, and the woman still within the house.