East Lynne [108]
the trees, or to penetrate them, but she caught glimpses of Richard's face, and her heart ached at the change in it. It was white, thin, and full of care; and his hair, he told her, was turning gray.
"Oh, Richard, darling, and I may not stop to talk to you!" she wailed, in a deep whisper. "Papa is at home, you see, of all the nights in the world."
"Can't I see my mother?"
"How can you? You must wait till to-morrow night."
"I don't like waiting a second night, Barbara. There's danger in every inch of ground that this neighborhood contains."
"But you must wait, Richard, for reasons. That man who caused all the mischief--Thorn--"
"Hang him!" gloomily interrupted Richard.
"He is at West Lynne. At least there is a Thorn, we--I and Mr. Carlyle --believe to be the same, and we want you to see him."
"Let me see him," panted Richard, whom the news appeared to agitate; "let me see him, Barbara, I say----"
Barbara had passed on again, returning presently.
"You know, Richard, I must keep moving, with papa's eyes there. He is a tall man, very good-looking, very fond of dress and ornament, especially of diamonds."
"That's he," cried Richard, eagerly.
"Mr. Carlyle will contrive that you shall see him," she continued, stooping as if to tie her shoe. "Should it prove to be the same, perhaps nothing can be done--immediately done--toward clearing you, but it shall be a great point ascertained. Are you sure you should know him again?"
"Sure! That I should know /him/?" uttered Richard Hare. "Should I know my own father? Should I know you? And are you not engraven on my heart in letters of blood, as is he? How and when am I to see him, Barbara?"
"I can tell you nothing till I have seen Mr. Carlyle. Be here to-morrow, as soon as ever the dusk will permit you. Perhaps Mr. Carlyle will contrive to bring him here. If--"
The window was thrown open, and the stentorian voice of Justice Hare was heard from it.
"Barbara, are you wandering about there to take cold? Come in! Come in, I say!"
"Oh, Richard, I am so sorry!" she lingered to whisper. "But papa is sure to be out to-morrow evening; he would not stay in two evenings running. Good-night, dear."
There must be no delay now, and the next day Barbara, braving comments, appeared once more at the office of Mr. Carlyle. Terribly did the rules of contrary seem in action just then. Mr. Carlyle was not in, and the clerks did not know when to expect him; he was gone out for some hours, they believed.
"Mr. Dill," urged Barbara, as the old gentleman came to the door to greet her, "I /must/ see him."
"He will not be in till late in the afternoon, Miss Barbara. I expect him then. Is it anything I can do?"
"No, no," sighed Barbara.
At that moment Lady Isabel and her little girl passed in the chariot. She saw Barbara at her husband's door; what should she be doing there, unless paying him a visit? A slight, haughty bow to Barbara, a pleasant nod and smile to Mr. Dill, and the carriage bowled on.
It was four o'clock before Barbara could see Mr. Carlyle, and communicate her tidings that Richard had arrived.
Mr. Carlyle held deceit and all underhand doings in especial abhorrence; yet he deemed that he was acting right, under the circumstances, in allowing Captain Thorn to be secretly seen by Richard Hare. In haste he arranged his plans. It was the evening of his own dinner engagement at Mrs. Jefferson's but that he must give up. Telling Barbara to dispatch Richard to his office as soon as he should make his appearance at the grove, and to urge him to come boldly and not fear, for none would know him in his disguise, he wrote a hurried note to Thorn, requesting him also to be at his office at eight o'clock that evening, as he had something to communicate to him. The latter plea was no fiction, for he had received an important communication that morning relative to the business on which Captain Thorn had consulted him, and his own absence from the office in the day had alone prevented his sending for him earlier.
Other matters were calling the
"Oh, Richard, darling, and I may not stop to talk to you!" she wailed, in a deep whisper. "Papa is at home, you see, of all the nights in the world."
"Can't I see my mother?"
"How can you? You must wait till to-morrow night."
"I don't like waiting a second night, Barbara. There's danger in every inch of ground that this neighborhood contains."
"But you must wait, Richard, for reasons. That man who caused all the mischief--Thorn--"
"Hang him!" gloomily interrupted Richard.
"He is at West Lynne. At least there is a Thorn, we--I and Mr. Carlyle --believe to be the same, and we want you to see him."
"Let me see him," panted Richard, whom the news appeared to agitate; "let me see him, Barbara, I say----"
Barbara had passed on again, returning presently.
"You know, Richard, I must keep moving, with papa's eyes there. He is a tall man, very good-looking, very fond of dress and ornament, especially of diamonds."
"That's he," cried Richard, eagerly.
"Mr. Carlyle will contrive that you shall see him," she continued, stooping as if to tie her shoe. "Should it prove to be the same, perhaps nothing can be done--immediately done--toward clearing you, but it shall be a great point ascertained. Are you sure you should know him again?"
"Sure! That I should know /him/?" uttered Richard Hare. "Should I know my own father? Should I know you? And are you not engraven on my heart in letters of blood, as is he? How and when am I to see him, Barbara?"
"I can tell you nothing till I have seen Mr. Carlyle. Be here to-morrow, as soon as ever the dusk will permit you. Perhaps Mr. Carlyle will contrive to bring him here. If--"
The window was thrown open, and the stentorian voice of Justice Hare was heard from it.
"Barbara, are you wandering about there to take cold? Come in! Come in, I say!"
"Oh, Richard, I am so sorry!" she lingered to whisper. "But papa is sure to be out to-morrow evening; he would not stay in two evenings running. Good-night, dear."
There must be no delay now, and the next day Barbara, braving comments, appeared once more at the office of Mr. Carlyle. Terribly did the rules of contrary seem in action just then. Mr. Carlyle was not in, and the clerks did not know when to expect him; he was gone out for some hours, they believed.
"Mr. Dill," urged Barbara, as the old gentleman came to the door to greet her, "I /must/ see him."
"He will not be in till late in the afternoon, Miss Barbara. I expect him then. Is it anything I can do?"
"No, no," sighed Barbara.
At that moment Lady Isabel and her little girl passed in the chariot. She saw Barbara at her husband's door; what should she be doing there, unless paying him a visit? A slight, haughty bow to Barbara, a pleasant nod and smile to Mr. Dill, and the carriage bowled on.
It was four o'clock before Barbara could see Mr. Carlyle, and communicate her tidings that Richard had arrived.
Mr. Carlyle held deceit and all underhand doings in especial abhorrence; yet he deemed that he was acting right, under the circumstances, in allowing Captain Thorn to be secretly seen by Richard Hare. In haste he arranged his plans. It was the evening of his own dinner engagement at Mrs. Jefferson's but that he must give up. Telling Barbara to dispatch Richard to his office as soon as he should make his appearance at the grove, and to urge him to come boldly and not fear, for none would know him in his disguise, he wrote a hurried note to Thorn, requesting him also to be at his office at eight o'clock that evening, as he had something to communicate to him. The latter plea was no fiction, for he had received an important communication that morning relative to the business on which Captain Thorn had consulted him, and his own absence from the office in the day had alone prevented his sending for him earlier.
Other matters were calling the