THE NEW RAILWAY
A FORTNIGHT passed. Arthur's face had lost all trace of the blows he
had received in trying to rescue his cousin, and Adrian was once more
lounging about the streets of the town, although everybody had heard
by this time that he was going to Oxford as soon as the necessary
arrangements had been made.
But a change had come over Arthur. That was quite evident to Molly at
least. He often looked careworn, anxious, and perplexed, but to all
her questions as to what was the matter she always received the same
answer: "Nothing that I know of, Pussy. When I know anything worth
telling, you shall know it."
This, so far as Arthur was concerned, was only half the truth, for
in point of fact he was very uncomfortable at his work, now that Mr.
Brading's manner towards him had totally changed. Jack was never
allowed to come in and have five minutes' chat with him, as he used to
do at first, and yet no fault was found with him. There was nothing
that he could definitely lay hold of and say, "Why am I treated thus?"
Everybody treated him with politeness, and yet he fancied they looked
at him suspiciously. Mr. Brading was icy in his demeanour towards him.
Instead of meeting him with a pleasant smile of greeting when he came
in, there was only the coldest and most distant recognition of his
presence.
One day when Arthur was out he saw Jack Brading coming towards him, and
noticed that the next minute, when he had recognized him, he darted
down a side street, and Arthur felt sure that it was on purpose to
avoid him.
This was harder to bear than anything he had yet endured, and that
evening he went home with a severe headache. He was not much better in
the morning, but he insisted upon getting up and going to his work as
usual, although both his sisters tried to persuade him to stay in bed
for an hour longer at least.
"You forget it is my duty to see to the letters," said Arthur, as he
picked at his breakfast, but failed to eat half of it.
"I am sure there is something wrong down at that shop," said Molly,
after he had gone.
But Annie gave but a divided attention to what her sister said. She
was thinking of a rumour that had reached her ears the day before—but
which had been told her as a great secret—that the railway, in which so
many hopes had centred in years gone by, was coming at last, and before
Arthur had got half-way to the London Road, she had told Molly.
The girl shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. "I shall believe it
when the station is built, but not before," she said. "Don't tell Mamma
about it, or she will never be satisfied with her new dressing-gown.
She is pleased enough with it, and with the idea of saving money by
turning old dresses into new ones, but only mention that railway and
see what will happen! More than half the dresses she has got put away
were bought on the news coming that we were going to sell some of the
land for the railway. No! I shall never believe it any more," concluded
Molly.
This so far impressed Annie that she agreed to keep the good news to
herself, at least for the present, and so Mrs. Murray knew nothing of
the hopes and fears that alternately made Annie hot and cold as she
thought of what was hanging in the balance for them, if only the report
should prove to be true.
At last she could keep the secret to herself no longer. She must tell
Arthur, and as he had been so ready to go to Mr. Andrews for advice
when it was the question of stricter economy that had to be practised,
she thought he ought to go now and hear what was likely to happen.
But Arthur shook his head. "I heard about this a day or two ago, and
you may be sure that Andrews has heard it as well, and if there is
anything to be done for us he will do it. But I am afraid it comes a
little too early and a little too late to do us any good now."
"Why, what do you mean, Arthur?" asked his sister.
"You talk in riddles, as though you were a lawyer too!" said Molly,
keenly watching her brother, and feeling sure that there was some
secret trouble that he did not like to tell them about. And she tried
to rouse him out of it by saying, "Now explain your riddle, that we
simple folk may have the benefit of your wisdom."
"Well, it's just this," said Arthur, trying to look amused and
interested. "If the railway had come years ago, we should not have
been over head and ears in debt on the expectation of it, for every
bit of the property, except this cottage, has been mortgaged to its
full value. Mr. Andrews told me that the first time I saw him, for he
thought I ought to know just how things stood, that I might understand
the necessity there was for me to obtain employment, and persevere with
it, whatever it might be."
"And now you think you might have done better than go to a shop?"
interrupted Annie. "You are vexed that you did not take my advice and
wait a little longer, instead of being in such a hurry to take the
first thing that offered."
"Not a bit of it!" replied Arthur promptly. "The work I have to do
suits me down to the ground, and I would not exchange it for anything
else, because I like figures, and am quick, and accurate too, at
book-keeping. No, no; don't you get the idea into your heads that if
this railway scheme is going to be carried out, I am going to throw up
my employment. As I said before, if Andrews can save anything out of
the wreck, it must be for Mamma and you girls. I can shift for myself
very well, for I have no doubt, if I continue to give satisfaction, Mr.
Brading will raise my salary in a year. In fact he said as much, so
that you see I can be independent of the property."
"No, you can't, Arthur," put in Molly. "I have heard Papa say it was
his great wish that the property should come to you as it did to him,
and it must if the others don't grab it all."
"Ah! That's the hard nut that has to be cracked, if you girls are to
stay here with Mamma in comfort. The 'others' lent or gave their money
on this land, and if we can't pay back what they lent when they want
it, why, of course they take the land instead! There's no grabbing
about it. Papa and Grandpapa between them had the money, and spent it;
so, of course, there is none left for us. It is purely a matter of
business," added Arthur.
In point of fact, this question of the railway coming through the
Murray property was of small moment to Arthur just now. The trouble
that weighed upon his mind was the changed attitude Mr. Brading had
assumed towards him. He knew sufficient of his character now to be
certain that he would not do this without some grave reason, and he was
beginning to see that the only possible cause to disturb the harmony
of his relations with everybody in the house was Lady Mary's missing
letter.
He had been questioned about this very closely by Mr. Brading once, but
he could only reply that if the letter had been received from the post
office, he should have delivered it to Mr. Langley in the usual way. He
certainly had not noticed the letter, although it did bear a coronet,
but this was not to be wondered at, considering the number of letters
he had to sort every morning. He would just glance at the department
it was addressed to, and having ascertained this, he would place it in
the bag and deliver it with a number of others. Of course there were
occasional slips, and a letter got put into a wrong bag by mistake, in
which case the manager receiving it set the matter straight by sending
it at once to the department where it should have been delivered.
In spite of this rule, a strict enquiry had been made in every part of
the house, in the hope of tracing the missing letter; but nothing had
come of it. And there the matter remained, to Arthur's great annoyance
and anxiety, for although no word of accusation had been spoken against
him, he could feel that Mr. Brading, at least, suspected him of having
some share in its disappearance.
As time went on, and no clue to the mystery presented itself, he felt
sure that Mr. Brading thought he had actually stolen the letter, though
why he should do this he was at a loss to know.
At first he felt very bitter about it, and was half-disposed to resign
his situation, but on thinking over the matter closely and calmly, he
saw that this would never do. Hard as it was to stay, he must not leave
so long as Mr. Brading would let him remain.
If the letter was never found, he might live down the suspicion felt
against him just now, and by his life prove to all that he could not
be guilty of this theft. He had come to this resolution that very
afternoon, and at the same time had determined that he would keep the
whole matter to himself, since no good could be done by troubling his
sisters with it.
So when the talk was over, that occupied so much of Annie's thoughts
just now, he went up to his own room, for his head ached, and he
wanted to have a little quiet time to himself, and try to think out a
reasonable excuse for Mr. Brading taking up such a prejudice against
him.
It was hard for the lad to think such a thing possible, but as Mr.
Brading was known to be most fair and just in all his dealings, there
must be some basis on which he could rest his suspicion, apart from the
mere loss of the letter. And after going back to the old school-days,
when he had first heard of the family characteristic of living on
credit, he came to the conclusion that Mr. Brading was not so much to
blame after all.
School-boys are invariably frank in their criticism of each other, and
he remembered once that a lad had told him his father was no better
than a thief, if he could not pay for the things he bought, and never
tried to work that he might have the means of doing so.
There had been a tremendous fight on the way home from school, and
the boy had gone home with a black eye. But it is doubtful whether he
suffered half so much from Arthur's fists as Arthur himself did from
the words that had been spoken, for he knew even then that there was
some truth in the accusation, and that his fist had not cleared his
father's name from the aspersion.
Now, might it not be the same thought lingering in Mr. Binding's mind,
and that if there was not this inheritance of debt clinging to him, he
would never have thought twice before deciding that he, Arthur, was
innocent of this theft, wherever the letter might have gone. If only he
could get rid of it; if only he could earn the right to say, "No man
was ever wronged of a penny through my father!"
Then after a time came thoughts of the railway, and at once he began to
hope that this might prove a means of vindicating his father's memory.
So, without waiting to think a second time, he got pen and ink and
paper to write and tell Mr. Andrews of the report he had heard, and to
ask that if anything could be saved of their old patrimony, the first
use to be made of it should be to pay everyone who had ever lent them
money that was not refunded in full.
After this, if there was anything that could be spared, it was to be
set aside for his mother and sisters, as he felt sure now that he would
always be able to earn enough to keep himself, and consequently would
not want any of this money for himself. He was just signing his name to
this letter when Molly knocked at the door.
And Arthur felt so relieved by what he had done, that he could meet
her with a smile, when in answer to her knock, he said: "Come in, you
fidgety puss."
"I have come to see what you are doing," announced Molly, looking at
the writing materials on the table.
"Well, you can see I have been writing a letter, and now I am going to
address it to Mr. Andrews."
"What have you been writing about?" asked the girl curiously.
"What were we talking about before I came upstairs? Well, I have been
thinking it would be better to tell Andrews what we have heard about
the railway coming, and if he can save any of the old property, that
we should like him to clear off all Papa's old debts first, and then
whatever is left should be taken care of for Mamma and you girls. I
felt sure it was what you and Annie would wish, and so I have said so."
"Yes, Arthur, that is right, I am sure, but I don't think any
difference should be made. It is really your patrimony, and I don't
see why you should give it all to us. We might share and share alike
perhaps."
"Two bites at a cherry won't satisfy anybody," replied Arthur, "and I
am afraid the cherry will be so small, even if it is saved, that there
will be only half a bite for anybody after the old debts are paid.
I think it will be a lesson to me for all my life never to get into
debt," added Arthur.
But Molly did not know how bitter the thought of this was to her
brother just now.
It was arranged that Molly should go for a walk with him as far as Mr.
Andrews' house, and then slip the letter into the letter-box at the
door. So Molly ran and fetched her hat and cape, and the brother and
sister were soon in the street walking towards the lawyer's house.
They were just turning the corner of the street, when all at once Molly
seized her brother's arm, and gripped it so tightly that he thought
for the moment she must be ill. "Look! Look!" she whispered. "There is
Adrian coming towards us, and he cannot walk straight! Oh dear, he will
fall down directly!"
Arthur stood still for a minute, and then, seeing that the young fellow
was almost as helpless as he had been when he met him before, he went
forward and took his arm.
Adrian tried to shake him off, but Arthur was the stronger, and he held
him in a firm grasp as he said: "I say, this won't do. You know your
mother will be greatly upset if she should know you have been to that
saloon again!"
"Mind your own business, and don't go chattering!" he muttered, with an
ugly oath.
"Molly, you must not stand there! Go home, dear, and I will leave the
letter as I go past Mr. Andrews' office in the morning. I must take
this chap home, or he may fall among thieves again."
"You're a nice fellow to talk about thieves! Who stole my mother's
letter down at that shop?" sneered Adrian, who was not so drunk that he
could not recognize Arthur.
Arthur's face blazed crimson with anger for a minute, and he felt
disposed to knock his cousin down, but second thoughts compelled him to
hold him up lest he should fall.
"Don't be a fool, Adrian," he said. "You know more about that letter
than I do."
"It's a lie! It's a lie! You can't prove anything! I tell you there is
nothing you can prove against me!" he hissed.
"Don't you make too sure of that, old chap," said Arthur when he could
speak, for he was so utterly astonished at the words Adrian had used,
that he could only stare at him for a minute, while Molly looked at
both of them, wondering whether she could have heard aright, and what
it could mean.
"Shall I put you into a cab, and tell the man to drive you home?" asked
Arthur, after a pause to consider what he had better do.
"I can get home without your help!" muttered Adrian.
"But this is not the way home," said Arthur. "You have come to the
wrong end of the town. Let me walk back with you and put you on the
road," said Arthur.
And he was not without hope that some stray word would give him a clue
as to what had been done with the missing letter and cheque. So he
took Adrian's arm to go back with him, while Molly, equally determined
to see that her brother did not have another black eye for his pains,
walked on the other side. And they were walking like this when all at
once the half-drunken young fellow saw her for the first time, and
immediately demanded that she should come and walk with him.
"Go home, Molly," whispered Arthur.
"Don't you go, Moll, for a cad and a thief," said Adrian.
"Look here! I'm not going to stand any of that nonsense," said Arthur.
"If you don't keep a civil tongue in your head, I shall hand you over
to the first policeman I meet, and—"
"But they can't prove anything against me, I tell you! If I had the
cheque, you had the letter with the biggest bite! So your mouth should
keep shut. Come here, Moll!" he cried.
"My sister shall not come near you," said Arthur sternly.
"Then I'm hanged if I'm going to walk with you—a mean shop-thief like
you!" And, as he spoke, he gave himself a violent twist and wrenched
himself away from Arthur's detaining hold, and the next minute sat down
on the pavement the very picture of helpless imbecility.
Molly uttered a slight scream, and Arthur looked at him for a minute,
wondering what he should do next.
At last he turned to Molly and said: "I cannot leave him where he is,
dear. Will you mind going to the next street and calling a cab? Or will
you stand and watch him while I go for it?"
"Oh no, no! I would rather run a mile than be near him when he looks
like that! Oh, poor Aunt Mary! What will she say!" exclaimed the girl,
as she ran off to where she knew a cab would be found. She was not gone
long, and she happened to find the man who had taken Adrian home before.
"Good evening, sir!" he said to Arthur as he jumped from the box to
help his fare into the vehicle.
"You'll know where to take him this time," said Arthur.
"Yes, sir, I've taken him twice since you went with us," said the
cabman.
And Adrian was deposited in the bottom of the cab, and then the brother
and sister turned homewards.