Paul Gauntlett watched the Mr. Sleeches till they disappeared at the
farther end of the avenue, amid the shadows of the trees.
"I am thankful they're gone without me doing them a mischief; but the
colonel said to me, `Paul, take charge of this place till you deliver it
up to my nephew, the captain.' And that is what I hope to do,"
soliloquised the old soldier.
He stood for some minutes inside the porch, with his hands clasped
before him in a stand-at-ease position. His plans were speedily formed.
There were four stout fellows he could rely on generally employed about
the grounds. He placed them, with thick oaken cudgels in their hands,
two at a time, to watch the approaches to the hall, while he himself,
armed in a similar manner, continued at intervals night and day to pace
round and round the house, to see, as he said to himself, that the
sentries were on the alert.
Once or twice Mabel caught sight of him, and wondered what he was about;
but he did not think it necessary to inform her and her aunt of his
plans. His chief post was the front porch, where he would sit the
livelong day, keeping a watchful eye up and down the avenue. His only
entertainment was reading the newspaper, which was brought by a man on
horseback from Lynderton. It was a very different production from the
large sheet of news at the present day.
Whatever were Mr. Sleech's plans, he seemed to have some hesitation in
putting them into execution; for day after day Paul was allowed to keep
his post unmolested.
One morning the groom brought the paper which had arrived the evening
before from London, and as the ladies were out in the grounds, Paul took
upon himself to peruse it first. He had spelt down two or three
columns, when his eye fell on a paragraph in which the name of his
Majesty's frigate the "Brilliant" was mentioned. He read it eagerly.
The paper trembled in his hands. "We regret to state" (so it ran) "that
we have received information of the loss of HúMú's frigate the
`Brilliant,' on her passage out to the North American station. She
struck on an iceberg, and soon afterwards foundered, eight persons only
in one of her boats being saved, out of the whole ship's company,
including one lieutenant and a midshipman. Captain Everard and the rest
of the officers and ship's company met a watery grave." [The names of
the survivors were then mentioned.] "The boat reached Halifax, those in
her having suffered fearful hardships, and they have now been brought
home in the `Tribune.'" The old soldier let the paper sink down by his
side.
"The captain gone!" he murmured, in a low voice--"the captain gone, and
no one to stand by Miss Mabel; and that poor lad, too, on whom she had
set her young heart. He lost! Oh, it will break it, it will break it."
Paul's courage failed him when he had to tell the two ladies of their
grievous bereavement.
While still trying to bring his mind to consider what he should do, he
saw a person approaching the house by the avenue. He clutched his stick
and threw up his head. It might be Mr. Sleech or one of his myrmidons.
He would do battle with them to the death, at all events. The stranger
approached; Paul kept eyeing him. His scrutiny was more satisfactory
than he had expected.
"He does not look like one of Mr. Sleech's villains," he said to
himself.
The stranger came close up, without hesitation, to Paul, whose aspect
was, however, somewhat threatening.
"I think I know you, my friend," said the stranger, with a kind
expression, though his look was sad. "I have come to inquire about a
young man in whom I am deeply interested. I find that he was here some
time back. I have been enabled to trace him. I speak of Harry Tryon.
Do you know anything of him?"
"If you will tell me who you are, sir, it may be I will answer that
question," said Paul.
"I am Roger Kyffin, Harry Tryon's guardian. Will that satisfy you, my
friend?" was the answer.
"Ah, that it will, sir," answered Paul, in a tone of sadness which
struck Mr. Kyffin.
"Can you give me any account of the lad?" asked Mr. Kyffin, in an
anxious voice.
"He went and entered aboard the `Brilliant,' and now he's gone, sir;
gone!" answered Paul. "He and the captain both together. They lie many
fathom deep in the cold ocean out there. I have been over the spot.
There, sir, read what is writ there; that tells all about it." And the
old soldier handed Mr. Kyffin the newspaper.
Roger Kyffin read it with moistened eyes, and a choking sensation came
in his throat.
"It is too true, I am afraid. The account is fearfully circumstantial!"
he ejaculated, as he read on, searching about for any further notice of
the event.
"But are you certain my dear boy was on board the `Brilliant'? What
evidence have you?"
"Certain sure, sir," answered Paul. "Our Mary, who was going to marry
Jacob Tuttle, saw him just as the ship was sailing, and our Miss Mabel
knows all about it. She knew he was with the captain. Poor dear young
lady! it will break her heart, and Mary's, too, and Madam Everard's,
too, and mine if it was not too tough. I wish that I had received
marching orders with the colonel not to see this day; and yet it is a
soldier's duty to stand fast at his post, and that's what the colonel
told me to do, and that's what, please God, I will do, and look after
these poor ladies, and little Mary, too, and widow Tuttle: they will all
want help. Oh, sir! when a battle's fought or a ship goes down with all
her crew it's those on shore feel it. I used not to think about that
when I was fighting, but now I know how poor women feel, and children
left at home."
"Rightly spoken, my friend," said Roger Kyffin, grasping Paul's hand.
"You feel for the fatherless and widow. It is a right feeling; it's a
divine feeling; it's as our Father in heaven feels. Have all my hopes
come to this?--thus early cut off, my boy, my Harry! Let me look at
that paper again. I must try and see the people who are mentioned here.
They may tell us how it happened. Might they, notwithstanding this
account, by some means have escaped?"
"I know what it is to be on board a foundering ship in the midst of the
stormy ocean, darkness around, strong men crying out for fear of death,
the boats swamped alongside. Words of command scarcely heard, or if
heard not attended to, and then, when the ship goes down, down, too, go
all things floating round her. No, sir, no, I cannot hope, and that's
the fact of it."
"Have you told the ladies?" asked Mr. Kyffin. "It will be a fearful
thing breaking the matter to them."
"I have not, sir, and I would as lief have my head blown off at the
cannon's mouth," answered Paul; "but it must be done, and what we have
to do is to consider the best way of breaking it to them. Never flinch
from what must be done; that's what the colonel always said."
Roger Kyffin at first thought of requesting Dr. Jessop to communicate
the sad intelligence; but he was afraid lest in the meantime it might in
a more abrupt manner reach the ears of Miss Everard and her aunt. He
determined, therefore, to introduce himself, and in the presence of Paul
to mention the account he had seen in the papers, expressing at the same
time a hope which he himself could not help entertaining, that those in
whom they were most interested might have escaped.
While Roger Kyffin and Paul were still discussing the matter, a carriage
rapidly approached the house. Three persons got out of it. One of them
started with a look of astonishment when he saw Mr. Kyffin. It was
Silas Sleech. He, however, quickly recovered his self-possession.
"Sad news this, sir, the death of our relative the captain," he said;
"it's what sailors are liable to, though. Allow me to introduce my
father, Mr. Tony Sleech--Mr. Roger Kyffin. Although fortune may smile
on me, I don't purpose yet deserting business and Idol Lane. `Business
is business,' as you've often observed, Mr. Kyffin, and I love it for
itself."
"I really don't understand what you mean," said Mr. Kyffin. "How can
Captain Everard's death affect you?"
"Ah! I see you are not acquainted with the state of the case," said Mr.
Silas. "We won't trouble you with it. My father and I have come to
condole with the ladies who are now staying here, on their bereavement,
and to tell them that we, who are heirs-at-law, beg that they will not
trouble themselves to move for the next two or three days. After that,
you see, it would be very inconvenient for us to be kept out of the
property."
Silas evidently said this more for Paul Gauntlett's information than for
Mr. Kyffin's, though his eye dared not meet that of the old soldier.
Paul clutched the stick which seldom left his grasp. The moment for
action had arrived. In another instant the Mr. Sleeches--father and
son--would have felt its force, had not a third person, who had got out
of the carriage, stepped forward. He had from the first kept his eye
upon Paul, and now saw by the movement of his hand that he meditated
mischief.
"I am an officer of the law, and have been brought to see that the law
is respected," he said, stepping up to Paul. "You had better not use
that stick, that's all. Mr. Sleech has sworn that he expects forcibly
to be, kept out of this property, which is legally his; therefore let
any one at his peril attempt to interfere with his proceedings."
"He never swore a truer word in his life," exclaimed Paul, clutching his
stick. "I care for the law, and I respect the law, but I don't respect
such sneaking scoundrels as you and he," exclaimed the old soldier,
lifting his stick with a savage look.
Silas sprang down the steps, knocking over his father in his descent.
The constable eyed the old soldier. Though his locks were grey, he
looked like no mean antagonist. The man seemed doubtful whether it
would be wise to attack him.
"I call all here to witness that I have been assaulted in the execution
of my duty by this man, the attendant of the late Colonel Everard," he
said, as he also retreated more slowly down the steps.
"Do you intend to prevent the rightful owners from taking possession of
this their rightful property?" he exclaimed, from a safe position at the
bottom of the steps, at the top of which stood Paul, still flourishing
his stick.
"The rightful owners have got the property, and the rightful owners will
keep it," answered Paul.
The Mr. Sleeches and their companion on this retired to a distance, to
consult apparently what steps they would next take.
"You must not attempt to impede the officer in the execution of his
duty, my friend," said Mr. Kyffin, "you will gain nothing by so doing."
"I don't expect to gain anything," answered Paul. "I am only obeying
the colonel's orders in keeping the house against all intruders. If
these people aren't intruders, I don't know who are."
"If they have the law with them we must not interfere," again repeated
Mr. Kyffin. "I am anxious to break the sad news to the ladies before
these men do so abruptly. I should have thought better of Silas Sleech;
but I suppose he has been urged on by his father."
"One's no better than the other, in my opinion," muttered Paul.
"However, sir, if you will tell the poor ladies what has happened in as
gentle a way as possible, I will bless you for it. As for me, I could
not do it, that I could not."
With a sad heart Mr. Kyffin took his way through the grounds, hoping to
fall in with Mabel and her aunt. Paul Gauntlett in the meantime kept
guard at the door, while two other stout fellows with bludgeons
appearing round the corner of the house, induced the besiegers to keep
at a respectful distance.
Mr. Kyffin soon met the two ladies. He had no doubt who they were, and
at once introduced himself. The result of his announcement, though made
as cautiously as possible, can better be imagined than described.
"If it is so, God's will be done!" said Madam Everard, whose whole
thoughts were centred in her niece, whom she and Roger Kyffin with
difficulty bore to the house. The news soon flew around the place, and
Dr. Jessop hearing it at once repaired to Stanmore, where he found his
old friend Roger Kyffin.
For several days Mabel lay almost unconscious, attended carefully by Dr.
Jessop, through whose speedy arrival, in all human probability, her life
had been saved.
Scarcely had she begun to recover, than Mr. Sleech, armed with further
authority, arrived at the Park. Mr. Wallis was in consultation with
Madam Everard. She and her niece must remove at the bidding of her
brother-in-law.
"Nothing can be done," said Mr. Wallis. "At all events, no attempt must
be made to prevent his being admitted into the house." With a heavy
heart Paul Gauntlett heard the lawyer's decision, though even then he
seemed very doubtful whether he ought to submit to Madam Everard's
orders.
"I would rather a thousand times have fought it out to the last, and
died in the breach," he exclaimed, dashing his stick on the floor.
"However, if it must be, it must be, and it's not the first time a
scoundrel has gained the day and got into the place of an honest man."
Paul had abundance of occupation for the remainder of his stay at
Stanmore.
With a countenance in which sorrow, anger, and indignation were blended,
he assisted in packing up the property belonging to Madam Everard and
her niece. This was at once conveyed to Lynderton, where a house had
been secured for them. In as short a time as possible they removed from
Stanmore Park with everything they possessed. Scarcely were they out of
the house than Mr. Sleech and his family took possession.
Silas, however, lost the satisfaction of taking up his abode at the Park
as the owner, for Mr. Coppinger informed him that he must either give up
his situation or return to the counting-house. He selected the latter
alternative, greatly to Mr. Kyffin's surprise. The estimation in which
that gentleman held Mr. Silas Sleech had of late been considerably
lowered. He once had thought him a hard-working, plodding, honest
fellow who could be thoroughly trusted--a valuable man in a
counting-house. Several circumstances had of late come under Mr.
Kyffin's notice with regard to Silas Sleech's mode of life. What he saw
of him at Stanmore and heard of him at Lynderton had also yet further
lowered him in his estimation. His mind was one especially addicted to
forming combinations. He put several things he had seen and heard of
Mr. Sleech together. To this he added his own opinion on certain
documents which Mr. Sleech had produced, with apparent unwillingness, to
criminate Harry.
He also found from the porter in Idol Lane that the two young men had
been in the constant habit of going out together, and very often not
returning till a late hour. These and other circumstances which need
not be narrated, made Mr. Kyffin resolve to watch very narrowly the
proceedings of Mr. Sleech for the future. Suspicion is more easily
aroused than quieted. On further inquiries he had no doubt that the
letter for which Silas Sleech had called during his absence, addressed
to his house at Hampstead, was from Harry, and that it had been
purposely withheld, although Silas declared, when taxed with receiving
it, that he had forwarded it to Ireland. Altogether there was a fair
prospect that the rogueries of Mr. Silas Sleech would be brought to
light. Still, however, he sat at his desk, working on with apparently
the greatest diligence, and the same unmoved countenance as usual.
In the meantime Mr. Sleech had taken possession of Stanmore for his son,
and he and his family were making themselves thoroughly at home in their
own fashion. They were somewhat indignant that the neighbourhood did
not immediately call and pay that respect which their relatives had been
accustomed to receive. It cannot be supposed that Mr. Wallis, nor even
Dr. Jessop, had been silent with regard to the way Mr. Sleech had
behaved to his sister-in-law and niece, while Paul Gauntlett took every
opportunity of describing how he had defended the house, and how they
had ultimately outmanoeuvred him.