"Well, that's as may be, Ann," answered Mr. Sleech, with a forced laugh.

"He who has the right to the property will have the right to cut down the trees, or law's not law. However, that's neither here nor there.

What I want to know, Ann, is when you and Mabel will be ready to pack up bag and baggage and turn out. There's that bow-windowed house in the town, half-way up the street, which would just suit you two spinster ladies, and the fact is that my daughters and my sons and I have rather a fancy to come and take up our quarters here. We have been kept out of the place a pretty long number of years, and you see, in my opinion, it's time we had our rights."

"When our legal adviser considers that we have no longer a right to remain in this house, Mabel and I will immediately leave it," answered the old lady, with dignity. "I am sure such would be Captain Everard's wish. In the meantime, I must request, Mr. Sleech, that you and your son will bring this interview to a conclusion. As relatives I would have made you welcome; but I cannot feel that you are justified in thus coming to insult my niece and me. I must therefore request that you will take your departure."

"As you like, Ann, as you like," exclaimed Mr. Sleech, swinging about his hat, which he had lifted from the ground. "It won't be for long, I can tell you; we shall soon be back again, I have an idea."

Silas endeavoured to shake hands with Mabel with a smile which he intended to be insinuating, but she indignantly turned from him.

"Oh, oh, proud as ever," he muttered, as he followed his father out of the room, at the door of which Paul was standing sentry. He had seen them returning to the house, and it would have fared ill with either of them had they ventured to proceed much further in their insulting remarks to the ladies. Not a muscle of his countenance moved as he opened the hall-door; but his eyes glared down upon them with an expression which made even Silas wince and keep close behind his father's heels.

"Well, that old fellow's the essence of glumness," observed Silas, as they got beyond hearing.

"She threatened me, she did," muttered his father, between his teeth, not attending to what Silas had said. "But we will be even with them, or my name's not Tony Sleech."

Lynderton was at that time a place of fashionable resort during the summer season. People came down there to enjoy the sea breezes and the bathing in salt water, to listen to the band of the foreign legion, and to enjoy the pleasant society which was to be found in the town and its neighbourhood. During the lifetime of his sister, Lady Tryon, Mr.

Coppinger had declined going there; but he now acceded to the urgent entreaties of his daughters, and had taken a house for them, at which they had arrived. He himself, however, could only occasionally get down. One of the very few visitors admitted at Stanmore was the young Baron de Ruvigny. He also had soon become acquainted with the Miss Coppingers, and from the account he gave of them, as well as from the way Harry had before spoken of his cousins, Mabel more than ever was anxious to see them. Indeed, she consulted with her aunt whether she might not with propriety call upon them. The matter was discussed several times; but Madam Everard could not yet bring herself to see strangers.

"They are charming young ladies," said the young baron, "so full of life and spirits, and so sweet and gentle; so refined in manners, so lovely in appearance."

"What! are the six sisters all charming?" asked Mabel, innocently.

The young baron hesitated, blushed, confessed that one in particular was even more than he had described--a lovely pearl. Her name Sybella--what a sweet name. Her voice, too--she sang exquisitely.

"I have heard of her," said Mabel, at length, "from her cousin Harry.

He described her as a very interesting girl, so pray tell them, baron, that I hope soon to make their acquaintance."

This was said before the visit of the Mr. Sleeches to Stanmore, which has just been described.

The Miss Coppingers thought Lynderton a most delightful place, and were not at all surprised that Harry had praised it so much to them; their only sorrow was that he was not there. Their father, with kind consideration, had not told them that he had strong grounds for suspecting Harry's honesty, nor had he given any reason for his absence.

All he had said was that Harry had suddenly left the counting-house and had not returned, and they all thought too well of him to suspect him of any dishonourable conduct. They consequently spoke of him openly at Lynderton as their cousin. He seemed to have many friends, but only two appeared to know what had become of him: one was the Baron de Ruvigny, who was a very frequent visitor at their house, and the other was Captain Rochard, who came once or twice with the baron. He was, he told them, an old friend of Captain Everard's, and was therefore particularly interested in the place.

Silas Sleech had obtained a holiday for the purpose of visiting Lynderton, not at all aware at the time that Mr. Coppinger was about to proceed there himself. Great was the merchant's astonishment when, the day after he came down, his eyes fell on his clerk, dressed in the height of fashion, walking up and down among the gay company a.s.sembled under an avenue of trees at the outside of the town to hear the band play. His amazement was increased when he saw him bow with a most familiar glance at his own daughters. Directly afterwards his clerk's eye met his. Now Silas possessed as much impudence and a.s.surance as most men, but his glance sank abashed before the stern look of the dignified Mr. Coppinger. The young ladies were, they declared, utterly ignorant who he was. He had introduced himself as a friend of the officers of the legion, on the previous evening, without giving his name, while they had seen him dancing with several young ladies. Silas was ambitious. He was endeavouring to work his way into good society, in the outside circles of which only his family had hitherto moved, in spite of their connection by marriage with the Everards.

Meantime Roger Kyffin had returned from Ireland. His grief at finding that Harry had gone away with so grievous an imputation on his character was very great. Still he did not, he could not, believe Harry to be guilty. He found no letter, however, from him at Idol Lane, nor was there one at his own house.

"Surely the boy would have written to me," he thought, "and told me where he was going. With all his faults, I believe he regarded me with sincere affection. I am sure he would have written."

On speaking to his housekeeper one day about some letter which had been left during his absence, she mentioned that Mr. Silas Sleech had on one occasion come to the house and requested to see Mr. Kyffin's letters, stating that he had been desired to forward some of them to him.

"I never gave any such directions," said Mr. Kyffin. "Did he take any letter?"

"Yes, sir, there was one--a particularly thick one, too--and the direction was in a good bold hand, just such as I have seen Master Harry write. I thought at the time, `Surely that's the very letter master would like to have,' so I let Mr. Sleech take it off, making sure that he was going to send it on to you."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

THE OLD FAMILY DRIVEN FROM THEIR HOME.

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 HuMu's frigate the `Brilliant,' on her pa.s.sage 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 circ.u.mstantial!"

he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, 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 G.o.d, 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 sh.o.r.e 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.