John Ayliffe got out of the park gates quite safely, though he rode
down the slope covered with loose stones, as if he had no
consideration for his own neck or his horse's knees. He was in a state
of desperation, however, and feared little at that moment what became
of himself or any thing else. With fierce and angry eagerness he
revolved in his own mind the circumstances of his situation, the
conduct of Mrs. Hazleton, the folly, as he was pleased to term it, of
his mother, the crimes which he had himself committed, and he found no
place of refuge in all the dreary waste of thought. Every thing around
looked menacing and terrible, and the world within was all dark and
stormy.
He pushed his horse some way on the road which he had come, but
suddenly a new thought struck him. He resolved to seek advice and aid
from one whom he had previously determined to avoid. "I will go to
Shanks," he said to himself, "he at least is in the same basket with
myself. He must work with me, for if my mother has been fool enough to
keep my letters, I have been wise enough to keep his--perhaps
something may be done after all. If not, he shall go along with me,
and we will try if we cannot bring that woman in too. He can prove all
her sayings and doings." Thus thinking, he turned his horse's head
towards the lawyer's house, and rode as hard as he could go till he
reached it.
Mr. Shanks was enjoying life over a quiet comfortable bowl of punch in
a little room which looked much more tidy and comfortable, than it had
done twelve or eighteen months before. Mr. Shanks had been well paid.
Mr. Shanks had taken care of himself. No small portion of back rents
and costs had gone into the pockets of Mr. Shanks. Mr. Shanks was all
that he had ever desired to be, an opulent man. Moreover, he was one
of those happily constituted mortals who know the true use of
wealth--to make it a means of enjoyment. He had no scruples of
conscience--not he. He little cared how the money came, so that it
found its way into his pocket. He was not a man to let his mind be
troubled by any unpleasant remembrances; for he had a maxim that every
man's duty was to do the very best he could for his client, and that
every man's first client was himself.
He heard a horse stop at his door, and having made up his mind to end
the night comfortably, to finish his punch and go to bed, he might
perhaps have been a little annoyed, had he not consoled himself with
the thought that the call must be upon business of importance, and he
had no idea of business of importance unconnected with that of a large
fee.
"To draw a will, I'll bet any money," said Mr. Shanks to himself; "it
is either old Sir Peter, dying of indigestion, and sent for me when
he's no longer able to speak, or John Ayliffe broken his neck leaping
over a five-barred gate--John Ayliffe, bless us all, Sir John Hastings
I should have said."
But the natural voice of John Ayliffe, asking for him in a loud
impatient tone, dispelled these visions of his fancy, and in another
moment the young man was in the room.
"Ah, Sir John, very glad to see you, very glad to see you," said Mr.
Shanks, shaking his visitor's hand, and knocking out the ashes of his
pipe upon the hob; "just come in pudding time, my dear sir--just in
time for a glass of punch--bring some more lemons and some sugar,
Betty. A glass of punch will do you good. It is rather cold to-night."
"As hot as h--l," answered John Ayliffe, sharply; "but I'll have the
punch notwithstanding," and he seated himself while the maid proceeded
to fulfil her master's orders.
Mr. Shanks evidently saw that something had gone wrong with his young
and distinguished client, but anticipating no evil, he was led to
consider whether it was any thing referring to a litter of puppies, a
favorite horse, a fire at the hall, a robbery, or a want of some more
ready money.
At length, however, the fresh lemons and sugar were brought, and the
door closed, before which, time John Ayliffe had helped himself to
almost all the punch which he had found remaining in the bowl. It was
not much, but it was strong, and Mr. Shanks applied himself to the
preparation of some more medicine of the same sort. John Ayliffe
suffered him to finish before he said any thing to disturb him, not
from any abstract reverence for the office which Mr. Shanks was
fulfilling, or for love of the beverage he was brewing, but simply
because John Ayliffe began to find that he might as well consider his
course a little. Consideration seldom served him very much, and in the
present instance, after he had labored hard to find out the best way
of breaking the matter, his impetuosity as usual got the better of
him, and he thrust his mother's letter into Mr. Shanks's hand, out of
which as a preliminary he took the ladle and helped himself to another
glass of punch.
The consternation of Mr. Shanks, as he read Mrs. Ayliffe's letter,
stood out in strong opposition to Mrs. Hazleton's sweet calmness. He
was evidently as much terrified as his client; for Mr. Shanks did not
forget that he had written Mrs. Ayliffe two letters since she was
abroad, and as she had kept her son's epistles, Mr. Shanks argued that
it was very likely she had kept his also. Their contents, taken alone,
might amount to very little, but looked at in conjunction with other
circumstances might amount to a great deal.
True, Mr. Shanks had avoided, as far as he could, any discussions in
regard to the more delicate secrets of his profession in the presence
of Mrs. Ayliffe, of whose discretion he was not as firmly convinced as
he could have desired; but it was not always possible to do so,
especially when he had been obliged to seek John Ayliffe in haste at
her house; and now the memories of many long and dangerous
conversations which had occurred in her presence, spread themselves
out before his eyes in a regular row, like items on the leaves of a
ledger.
"Good God!" he cried, "what has she done?"
"Every thing she ought not to have done, of course!" replied John
Ayliffe, replenishing his glass, "but the question now, is, Shanks,
what are we to do? That is the great question just now."
"It is indeed," answered Mr. Shanks, in great agitation; "this is very
awkward, very awkward indeed."
"I know that," answered John Ayliffe, laconically.
"Well but, sir, what is to be done?" asked Mr. Shanks, fidgeting
uneasily about the table.
"That is what I come to ask you, not to tell you," answered the young
man; "you see, Shanks, you and I are exactly in the same case, only I
have more to lose than you have. But whatever happens to me will
happen to you, depend upon it. I am not going to be the only one,
whatever Mrs. Hazleton may think."
Shanks caught at Mrs. Hazleton's name; "Ay, that's a good thought," he
said, "we had better go and consult her. Let us put our three heads
together, and we may beat them yet--perhaps."
"No use of going to her," answered John Ayliffe, bitterly; "I have
been to her, and she is a thorough vixen. She cried off having any
thing to do with me, and when I just told her quietly that, she ought
to help me out of the scrape because she had a hand in getting me into
it, she flew at my throat like a terrier bitch with a litter of
puppies, barked me out of the house as if I had been a beggar, and
called me almost rogue and swindler in the hearing of her own
servants."
Mr. Shanks smiled--he could not refrain from smiling with a feeling of
admiration and respect, even in that moment of bitter apprehension, at
the decision, skill, and wisdom of Mrs. Hazleton's conduct. He
approved of her highly; but he perceived quite plainly that it would
not do for him to play the same game. A hope--a feeble hope--light
through a loop-hole, came in upon him in regard to the future,
suggested by Mrs. Hazleton's conduct. He thought that if he could but
clear away some difficulties, he too might throw all blame upon John
Ayliffe, and shovel the load of infamy from his own shoulders to those
of his client; but to effect this, it was not only necessary that he
should soothe John Ayliffe, but that he should provide for his safety
and escape. Recriminations he was aware were very dangerous things,
and that unless a man takes care that it shall not be in the power or
for the interest of a fellow rogue to say _tu quoque_, the effort to
place the burden on his shoulders only injures him without making our
own case a bit better. It was therefore requisite for his purposes
that he should deprive John Ayliffe of all interest or object in
criminating him; but foolish knaves are very often difficult to deal
with, and he knew his young client to be eminent in that class.
Wishing for a little time to consider, he took occasion to ask one or
two meaningless questions, without at all attending to the replies.
"When did this letter arrive here?" he inquired.
"This very night," answered John Ayliffe, "not three hours ago."
"Do you think she has really told all?" asked Mr. Shanks.
"All, and a great deal more," replied the young man.
"How long has she been at St. Germain?" said the lawyer.
"What the devil does that signify?" said John Ayliffe, growing
impatient.
"A great deal, a great deal," replied Mr. Shanks, sagely. "Take some
more punch. You see perhaps we can prove that you and I really thought
her dead at the time the affidavit was made."
"Devilish difficult that," said John Ayliffe, taking the punch. "She
wrote to me about some more money just at that time, and I was obliged
to answer her letter and send it, so that if they have got the letters
that won't pass."
"We'll try at least," said Mr. Shanks in a bolder tone.
"Ay, but in trying we may burn our fingers worse than ever," said the
young man. "I do not want to be tried for perjury and conspiracy, and
sent to the colonies with the palm of my hand burnt out, whatever you
may do, Shanks."
"No, no, that would never do," replied the lawyer. "The first thing to
be done, my dear Sir John, is to provide for your safety, and that can
only be done by your getting out of the way for a time. It is very
natural that a young gentleman of fortune like yourself should go to
travel, and not at all unlikely that he should do so without letting
any one know where he is for a few months. That will be the best plan
for you you must go and travel. They can't well be on the look-out for
you yet, and you can get away quite safely to-morrow morning. You need
not say where you are going, and by that means you will save both
yourself and the property too; for they can't proceed against you in
any way when you are absent."
John Ayliffe was not sufficiently versed in the laws of the land to
perceive that Mr. Shanks was telling him a falsehood. "That's a good
thought," he said; "if I can live abroad and keep hold of the rents we
shall be safe enough."
"Certainly, certainly," said Mr. Shanks, "that is the only plan. Then
let them file their bills, or bring their actions or what not. They
cannot compel you to answer if you are not within the realm."
Mr. Shanks was calling him all the time, in his own mind, a
jolter-headed ass, but John Ayliffe did not perceive it, and replied
with a touch of good feeling, perhaps inspired by the punch, "But what
is to become of you, Shanks?"
"Oh, I will stay and face it out," replied the lawyer, "with a bold
front. If we do not peach of each other they cannot do much against
us. Mrs. Hazleton dare not commit us, for by so doing she would commit
herself; and your mother's story will not avail very much. As to the
letters, which is the worst part of the business, we must try and
explain those away; but clearly the first thing for you to do is to
get out of England as soon as possible. You can go and see your mother
secretly, and if you can but get her to prevaricate a little in her
testimony it will knock it all up."
"Oh, she'll prevaricate enough if they do but press her hard," said
John Ayliffe. "She gets so frightened at the least thing she doesn't
know what she says. But the worst of it is, Shanks, I have not got
money enough to go. I have not got above a hundred guineas in the
house."
Mr. Shanks paused and hesitated. It was a very great object with him
to get John Ayliffe out of the country, in order that he might say any
thing he liked of John Ayliffe when his back was turned, but it was
also a very great object with him to keep all the money he had got. He
did not like to part with one sixpence of it. After a few moments'
thought, however, he recollected that a thousand pounds' worth of
plate had come down from London for the young man within the last two
months, and he thought he might make a profitable arrangement.
"I have got three hundred pounds in the house," he said, "all in good
gold, but I can really hardly afford to part with it. However, rather
than injure you, Sir John, I will let you have it if you will give me
the custody of your plate till your return, just that I may have
something to show if any one presses me for money."
The predominant desire of John Ayliffe's mind, at that moment, was to
get out of England as fast as possible, and he was too much blinded by
fear and anxiety to perceive that the great desire of Mr. Shanks was
to get him out. But there was one impediment. The sum of four hundred
pounds thus placed at his command would, some years before, have
appeared the Indies to him, but now, with vastly expanded ideas with
regard to expense, it seemed a drop of water in the ocean. "Three
hundred pounds, Shanks," he said, "what's the use of three hundred
pounds? It would not keep me a month."
"God bless my soul!" said Mr. Shanks, horrified at such a notion, "why
it would keep me a whole year, and more too. Moreover, things are
cheaper there than they are here; and besides you have got all those
jewels, and knick-knacks, and things, which cost you at least a couple
of thousand pounds. They would sell for a great deal."
"Come, come, Shanks," said the young man, "you must make it five
hundred guineas. I know you've got them in your strong box here."
Shanks shook his head, and John Ayliffe added sullenly, "Then I'll
stay and fight it out too. I won't go and be a beggar in a foreign
land."
Shanks did not like the idea of his staying, and after some farther
discussion a compromise was effected. Mr. Shanks agreed to advance
four hundred pounds. John Ayliffe was to make over to him, as a
pledge, the whole of his plate, and not to object to a memorandum to
that effect being drawn up immediately, and dated a month before. The
young man was to set off the very next day, in the pleasant gray of
the morning, driving his own carriage and horses, which he was to sell
as soon as he got a convenient distance from his house, and Mr. Shanks
was to take the very best possible care of his interests during his
absence.
John Ayliffe's spirits rose at the conclusion of this transaction. He
calculated that with one thing or another he should have sufficient
money to last him a year, and that was quite as far as his thoughts or
expectations went. A long, long year! What does youth care for any
thing beyond a year? It seems the very end of life to pant in
expectation, and indeed, and in truth, it is very often too long for
fate.
"Next year I will"-- Pause, young man! there is a deep pitfall in the
way. Between you and another year may lie death. Next year thou wilt
do nothing--thou wilt be nothing.
His spirits rose. He put the money into his pocket, and, with more wit
than he thought, called it "light heaviness," and then he sat down and
smoked a pipe, while Mr. Shanks drew up the paper; and then he drank
punch, and made more, and drank that too, so that when the paper
giving Mr. Shanks a lien upon the silver was completed, and when a
dull neighbor had been called in to see him sign his name, it needed a
witness indeed to prove that that name was John Ayliffe's writing.
By this time he would very willingly have treated the company to a
song, so complete had been the change which punch and new prospects
had effected; but Mr. Shanks besought him to be quiet, hinting that
the neighbor, though as deaf as a post and blind as a mole, would
think him as the celebrated sow of the psalmist. Thereupon John
Ayliffe went forth and got his horse out of the stable, mounted upon
his back, and rode lolling at a sauntering pace through the end of the
town in which Mr. Shanks's house was situated. When he got more into
the Country he began to trot, then let the horse fall into a walk
again, and then he beat him for going slow. Thus alternately
galloping, walking, and trotting, he rode on till he was two or three
hundred yards past the gates of what was called the Court, where the
family of Sir Philip Hastings now lived. It was rather a dark part of
the road, and there was something white in the hedge--some linen
put out to dry, or a milestone. John Ayliffe was going at a quick
pace at that moment, and the horse suddenly shied at this white
apparition--not only shied, but started, wheeled round, and ran back.
John Ayliffe kept his seat, notwithstanding his tipsiness, but he
struck the furious horse over the head, and pulled the rein violently.
The annual plunged--reared--the young man gave the rein a furious tug,
and over went the horse upon the road, with his driver under him.