"He ain't 'a taken no money as I've seed, sir. I wish he had, for money's sore wanted here, and if the gen'leman has a mind to be kind-hearted--" Then she intimated her own readiness to take any contribution to the good cause which the Senator might be willing to make at that moment. But the Senator b.u.t.toned up his breeches pockets with stern resolution. Though he still believed Lord Rufford to be altogether wrong, he was beginning to think that the Goarlys were not worthy his benevolence. As she came to the door with them and accompanied them a few yards across the field she again told the tragic tale of her goose;--but the Senator had not another word to say to her.

On that same day Morton drove Mr. Gotobed into Dillsborough and consented to go with him to Mr. Bearside's office. They found the attorney at home, and before anything was said as to payment they heard his account of the action. If Goarly had consented to take any money from Lord Rufford he knew nothing about it. As far as he was aware the action was going on. Ever so many witnesses must be brought from a distance who had seen the crop standing and who would have no bias against the owner,--as would be the case with neighbours, such as Lawrence Twentyman. Of course it was not easy to oppose such a man as Lord Rufford and a little money must be spent. Indeed such, he said, was his interest in the case that he had already gone further than he ought to have done out of his own pocket. Of course they would be successful,--that is if the matter were carried on with spirit, and then the money would all come back again. But just at present a little money must be spent. "I don't mean to spend it,"

said the Senator.

"I hope you won't stick to that, Mr. Gotobed."

"But I shall, sir. I understand from your letter that you look to me for funds."

"Certainly I do, Mr. Gotobed;--because you told me to do so."

"I told you nothing of the kind, Mr. Bearside."

"You paid me 15 on account, Mr. Gotobed."

"I paid you 15 certainly."

"And told me that more should be coming as it was wanted. Do you think I should have gone on for such a man as Goarly,--a fellow without a shilling,--unless he had some one like you to back him? It isn't likely. Now, Mr. Morton, I appeal to you."

"I don't suppose that my friend has made himself liable for your bill because he paid you 15 with the view of a.s.sisting Goarly," said Morton.

"But he said that he meant to go on, Mr. Morton. He said that plain, and I can swear it. Now, Mr. Gotobed, you just say out like an honest man whether you didn't give me to understand that you meant to go on."

"I never employed you or made myself responsible for your bill."

"You authorized me, distinctly,--most distinctly, and I shall stick to it. When a gentleman comes to a lawyer's office and pays his money and tells that lawyer as how he means to see the case out,--explaining his reasons as you did when you said all that against the landlords and squires and n.o.bility of this here country,--why then that lawyer has a right to think that that gentleman is his mark."

"I thought you were employed by Mr. Scrobby," said Morton, who had heard much of the story by this time.

"Then, Mr. Morton, I must make bold to say that you have heard wrong.

I know nothing of Mr. Scrobby and don't want. There ain't nothing about the poisoning of that fox in this case of ours. Scrobby and Goarly may have done that, or Scrobby and Goarly may be as innocent as two babes unborn for aught I know or care. Excuse me, Mr. Morton, but I have to be on my p's and q's I see. This is a case for trespa.s.s and damage against Lord Rufford in which we ask for 40_s._ an acre.

Of course there is expenses. There's my own time. I ain't to be kept here talking to you two gentlemen for nothing, I suppose. Well; this gentleman comes to me and pays me 15 to go on. I couldn't have gone on without something. The gentleman saw that plain enough. And he told me he'd see me through the rest of it."

"I said nothing of the kind, sir."

"Very well. Then we must put it to a jury. May I make bold to ask whether you are going out of the country all at once?"

"I shall be here for the next two months, at least."

"Happy to hear it, sir, and have no doubt it will all be settled before that time--amiable or otherwise. But as I am money out of pocket I did hope you would have paid me something on account to-day."

Then Mr. Gotobed made his offer, informing Mr. Bearside that he had brought his friend, Mr. Morton, with him in order that there might be a witness. "I could see that, sir, with half an eye," said the attorney unabashed. He was willing to pay Mr. Bearside a further sum of 10 immediately to be quit of the affair, not because he thought that any such sum was due, but because he wished to free himself from further trouble in the matter. Mr. Bearside hinted in a very cavalier way that 20 might be thought of. A further payment of 20 would cover the money he was out of pocket. But this proposition Mr. Gotobed indignantly refused, and then left the office with his friend. "Wherever there are lawyers there will be rogues," said the Senator, as soon as he found himself in the street. "It is a n.o.ble profession, that of the law; the finest perhaps that the work of the world affords; but it gives scope and temptation for roguery. I do not think, however, that you would find anything in America so bad as that."

"Why did you go to him without asking any questions?"

"Of whom was I to ask questions? When I took up Goarly's case he had already put it into this man's hands."

"I am sorry you should be troubled, Mr. Gotobed; but, upon my word, I cannot say but what it serves you right."

"That is because you are offended with me. I endeavoured to protect a poor man against a rich man, and that in this country is cause of offence."

After leaving the attorney's office they called on Mr. Mainwaring the rector, and found that he knew, or professed to know, a great deal more about Goarly, than they had learned from Bearside. According to his story Nickem, who was clerk to Mr. Masters, had Goarly in safe keeping somewhere. The rector indeed was acquainted with all the details. Scrobby had purchased the red herrings and strychnine, and had employed Goarly to walk over by night to Rufford and fetch them.

The poison at that time had been duly packed in the herrings. Goarly had done this and had, at Scrobby's instigation, laid the bait down in Dillsborough Wood. Nickem was now at work trying to learn where Scrobby had purchased the poison, as it was feared that Goarly's evidence alone would not suffice to convict the man. But if the strychnine could be traced and the herrings, then there would be almost a certainty of punishing Scrobby.

"And what about Goarly?" asked the Senator.

"He would escape of course," said the rector. "He would get a little money and after such an experience would probably become a good friend to fox-hunting."

"And quite a respectable man!" The rector did not guarantee this but seemed to think that there would at any rate be promise of improved conduct. "The place ought to be too hot to hold him!" exclaimed the Senator indignantly. The rector seemed to think it possible that he might find it uncomfortable at first, in which case he would sell the land at a good price to Lord Rufford and every one concerned would have been benefited by the transaction,--except Scrobby for whom no one would feel any pity.

The two gentlemen then promised to come and dine with the rector on the following day. He feared he said that he could not make up a party as there was,--he declared,--n.o.body in Dillsborough. "I never knew such a place," said the rector. "Except old Nupper, who is there? Masters is a very decent fellow himself, but he has got out of that kind of thing;--and you can't ask a man without asking his wife. As for clergymen, I'm sick of dining with my own cloth and discussing the troubles of sermons. There never was such a place as Dillsborough." Then he whispered a word to the Squire. Was the Squire unwilling to meet his cousin Reginald Morton? Things were said and people never knew what was true and what was false. Then John Morton declared that he would be very happy to meet his cousin.

CHAPTER XV.

MR. MAINWARING'S LITTLE DINNER.

The company at the rector's house consisted of the Senator, the two Mortons, Mr. Surtees the curate, and old Doctor Nupper. Mrs.

Mainwaring was not well enough to appear, and the rector therefore was able to indulge himself in what he called a bachelor party. As a rule he disliked clergymen, but at the last had been driven to invite his curate because he thought six a better number than five for joviality. He began by asking questions as to the Trefoils which were not very fortunate. Of course he had heard that Morton was to marry Arabella Trefoil, and though he made no direct allusion to the fact, as Reginald had done, he spoke in that bland eulogistic tone which clearly showed his purpose. "They went with you to Lord Rufford's, I was told."

"Yes;--they did."

"And now they have left the neighbourhood. A very clever young lady, Miss Trefoil;--and so is her mother, a very clever woman." The Senator, to whom a sort of appeal was made, nodded his a.s.sent. "Lord Augustus, I believe, is a brother of the Duke of Mayfair?"

"Yes, he is," said Morton. "I am afraid we are going to have frost again." Then Reginald Morton was sure that the marriage would never take place.

"The Trefoils are a very distinguished family," continued the rector.

"I remember the present Duke's father when he was in the cabinet, and knew this man almost intimately when we were at Christchurch together. I don't think this Duke ever took a prominent part in politics."

"I don't know that he ever did," said Morton.

"Dear, dear, how tipsy he was once driving back to Oxford with me in a gig. But he has the reputation of being one of the best landlords in the country now."

"I wonder what it is that gives a man the reputation of being a good landlord. Is it foxes?" asked the Senator. The rector acknowledged with a smile that foxes helped. "Or does it mean that he lets his land below the value? If so, he certainly does more harm than good, though he may like the popularity which he is rich enough to buy."

"It means that he does not exact more than his due," said the rector indiscreetly.

"When I hear a man so highly praised for common honesty I am of course led to suppose that dishonesty in his particular trade is the common rule. The body of English landlords must be exorbitant tyrants when one among them is so highly eulogised for taking no more than his own." Luckily at that moment dinner was announced, and the exceptional character of the Duke of Mayfair was allowed to drop.

Mr. Mainwaring's dinner was very good and his wines were excellent,--a fact of which Mr. Mainwaring himself was much better aware than any of his guests. There is a difficulty in the giving of dinners of which Mr. Mainwaring and some other hosts have become painfully aware. What service do you do to any one in pouring your best claret down his throat, when he knows no difference between that and a much more humble vintage,--your best claret which you feel so sure you cannot replace? Why import canvas-back ducks for appet.i.tes which would be quite as well satisfied with those out of the next farm-yard? Your soup, which has been a care since yesterday, your fish, got down with so great trouble from Bond Street on that very day, your saddle of mutton, in selecting which you have affronted every butcher in the neighbourhood, are all plainly thrown away! And yet the hospitable hero who would fain treat his friends as he would be treated himself can hardly arrange his dinners according to the palates of his different guests; nor will he like, when strangers sit at his board, to put nothing better on his table than that cheaper wine with which needful economy induces him to solace himself when alone. I,--I who write this,--have myself seen an honoured guest deluge with the pump my, ah! so hardly earned, most scarce and most peculiar vintage! There is a pang in such usage which some will not understand, but which cut Mr. Mainwaring to the very soul. There was not one among them there who appreciated the fact that the claret on his dinner table was almost the best that its year had produced.

It was impossible not to say a word on such a subject at such a moment;--though our rector was not a man who usually lauded his own viands. "I think you will find that claret what you like, Mr.

Gotobed," he said. "It's a '57 Mouton, and judges say that it is good."

"Very good indeed," said the Senator. "In the States we haven't got into the way yet of using dinner clarets." It was as good as a play to see the rector wince under the ignominious word. "Your great statesman added much to your national comfort when he took the duty off the lighter kinds of French wines."

The rector could not stand it. He hated light wines. He hated cheap things in general. And he hated Gladstone in particular. "Nothing,"

said he, "that the statesman you speak of ever did could make such wine as that any cheaper. I am sorry, sir, that you don't perceive the difference."