The Rector did not go over the old ground of argument, as he had to Mr.

Hurde--that it was unfair to give preference to the earlier comers. It would answer no end now: and he was, besides, aware that he might have been among those earlier applicants, but for some untoward fate, which had taken him out of the way to the Pollard cottages, and restrained him from speaking to Isaac, when he saw him fly past. Whether Mr. Hastings would have had his nine thousand pounds is another matter. More especially if--as had been a.s.serted by Mr. Hurde--the fact of the payment did not appear in the books.

"Where is George?" asked Mr. Hastings.

"He has gone to the telegraph office," replied Thomas G.o.dolphin. "There has been more than time for answers to arrive--to be brought here--since our telegrams went up. George grew impatient, and has gone to the station."

"I wish to ask him how he could so have deceived me," resumed the Rector. "He a.s.sured me only yesterday, as it were, that the Bank was perfectly safe."

"As he no doubt thought. Nothing would have been the matter, but for this run upon it. There's quite a panic in Prior's Ash, I am told; but what can have caused it, I know not. Some deeds of value belonging to Lord Averil have been lost or mislaid, and the report may have got about: but why it should have caused this fear, is to me utterly incomprehensible. I would have a.s.sured you myself yesterday, had you asked me, that we were perfectly safe and solvent. That we are so still, will be proved on Monday morning."

Mr. Hastings bent forward his head. "It would be worse than ruin to me, Mr. G.o.dolphin. I should be held responsible for the Chisholms' money; should be called upon to refund it; and I have no means of doing so. I dare not contemplate the position."

"What are you talking of?" asked Thomas G.o.dolphin. "I do not understand.

We hold no money belonging to the Chisholms."

"Indeed you do," was the reply. "You had it all. I paid in the proceeds of the sale, nine thousand and forty-five pounds."

Mr. G.o.dolphin paused at the a.s.sertion, looking at the Rector somewhat as his head clerk had done. "When did you pay it in?" he inquired.

"A few days ago. I brought it in the evening, after banking hours.

Brierly came over from Binham and paid it to me in cash, and I brought it here at once. It was a large sum to keep in the house. As things have turned out, I wish I had kept it," concluded the Rector, speaking plainly.

"Paid it to George?"

"Yes. Maria was present. I have his receipt for it, Mr. G.o.dolphin,"

added the Rector. "You almost appear to doubt the fact. As Hurde did, when I spoke to him just now. He said it did not appear in the books."

"Neither does it," replied Thomas G.o.dolphin. "But I do not doubt you, now that you tell me of the transaction. George must have omitted to enter it."

That "omission" began to work in the minds of both, more than either cared to tell. Thomas G.o.dolphin was marvelling at his brother's reprehensible carelessness: the Rector of All Souls' was beginning to wonder whether "carelessness" was the deepest sin about to be laid open in the conduct of George G.o.dolphin. Very unpleasant doubts, he could scarcely tell why, were rising up within him. His keen eye searched the countenance of Thomas G.o.dolphin: but he read nothing there to confirm his doubts. On the contrary, that countenance, save for the great sorrow and vexation upon it, was, as it ever was, clear and open as the day.

Not yet, not quite yet, had the honest faith of years, reposed by Thomas G.o.dolphin in his brother, been shaken. Very, very soon was it to come: not the faith to be simply shaken, but rudely destroyed: blasted for ever; as a tree torn up by lightning.

It was useless for Mr. Hastings to remain. All the satisfaction to be obtained was--the confidently-expressed hope that Monday would set things straight. "It would be utter ruin to me, you know," he said, as he rose.

"It would be ruin to numbers," replied Thomas G.o.dolphin. "I pray you, do not glance at anything so terrible. There is no cause for it: there is not indeed: our resources are ample. I can only say that I should wish I had died long ago, rather than have lived to witness such ruin, brought upon others, through us."

Lord Averil was asking to see Thomas G.o.dolphin, and entered his presence as Mr. Hastings left it. He came in, all impulse. It appeared that he had gone out riding that morning after breakfast, and knew nothing of the tragedy then being enacted in the town. Do you think the word too strong a one--tragedy? Wait and see its effects. In pa.s.sing the Bank on his return, Lord Averil saw the shutters up. In the moment's shock, his fears flew to Thomas G.o.dolphin. He forgot that the death, even of the princ.i.p.al, would not close a Bank for business. Lord Averil, having nothing to do with business and its ways, may have been excused the mistake.

He pulled short up, and sat staring at the Bank, his heart beating, his face growing hot. Only the day before he had seen Thomas G.o.dolphin in health (comparatively speaking) and life; and now, could he be dead?

Casting his eyes on the stragglers gathered on the pavement before the banking doors--an unusual number of stragglers, though Lord Averil was too much occupied with other thoughts to notice the fact--he stooped down and addressed one of them. It happened to be Rutt the lawyer, who in pa.s.sing had stopped to talk with the groups gathered there. Why _did_ groups gather there? The Bank was closed for the rest of the day, nothing to be obtained from its aspect but blank walls and a blank door.

What good did it do to people to halt there and stare at it? What good does it do them to halt before a house where murder has been committed, and stare at that?

The Viscount Averil bent from his horse to Rutt the lawyer. "What has happened? Is Mr. G.o.dolphin dead?"

"It is not that, my lord. The Bank has stopped."

"The--Bank--has----stopped?" repeated Lord Averil, pausing between each word, in his astonishment, and a greater pause before the last.

"Half an hour ago, my lord. There has been a run upon it this morning; and now they have paid out all their funds, and are obliged to stop."

Lord Averil could not recover his consternation. "What occasioned the run?" he asked.

"Well--your lordship must understand that rumours are abroad. I heard them, days ago. Some say, now, that they have no foundation, and that the Bank will resume business on Monday as usual, when remittances arrive. The telegraph has been at work pretty well for the house the last hour or so," concluded Mr. Rutt.

Lord Averil leaped from his horse, gave it to a lad to hold, and went round to the private door. Thence he was admitted, as you have seen, to the presence of Thomas G.o.dolphin. Not of his own loss had he come to speak--the sixteen thousand pounds involved in the disappearance of the deeds--and which, if the Bank ceased its payments, might never be refunded to him. No. Although he saw the premises closed, and heard that the Bank had stopped, not a doubt crossed Lord Averil of its real stability. That the run upon it had caused its temporary suspension, and that all would be made right on the Monday, as Mr. Rutt had suggested, he fully believed. The Bank held other deeds of Lord Averil's, and a little money: not much; his present account was not great. The deeds were safe; the money might be imperilled.

"I never heard of it until this moment," he impulsively cried, clasping the hand of Thomas G.o.dolphin. "In returning now from a ride, I saw the shutters closed, and learned what had happened. There has been a run upon the Bank, I understand."

"Yes," replied Thomas, in a subdued tone, that told of mental pain. "It is a very untoward thing."

"But what induced it?"

"I cannot imagine. Unless it was the rumour, which has no doubt spread abroad, of the loss of your deeds. I suppose it was that: magnified in telling, possibly, into the loss of half the coffers of the Bank. Panics have arisen from far slighter causes; as those versed in the money market could tell you."

"But how foolish people must be!"

"When a panic arises, people are not themselves," remarked Thomas G.o.dolphin. "One takes up the fear from another, as they take an epidemic. I wish, our friends and customers had had more confidence in us. But I cannot blame them."

"They are saying, outside, that business will be resumed."

"Yes. As soon as we can get remittances down. Sunday intervenes, and of course nothing can be done until Monday."

"Well, now, my friend, can I help you?" rejoined Lord Averil. "I am a richer man than the world gives me credit for; owing to the inexpensive life I have led, since that one false step of mine, when I was in my teens. I will give you my signature to any amount. If you can contrive to make it known, it may bring people to their senses."

Thomas G.o.dolphin's generous spirit opened to the proof of confidence: it shone forth from his quiet dark-grey eyes as he gazed at Lord Averil.

"Thank you sincerely for the kindness. I shall gratefully remember it to the last day of my life. An hour or two ago I do not know but I might have availed myself of it: as it is, it is too late. The Bank is closed for the day, and nothing more, good or bad, can be done until Monday morning. Long before that, I expect a.s.sistance will have arrived."

"Very well. But if you want further a.s.sistance, you know where to come for it," concluded Lord Averil. "I shall be in Prior's Ash. Do you know," he continued, in a musing sort of tone, "since I renounced that proposed sea expedition, I have begun to feel more like a homeless man than I ever yet did. If there were a desirable place for sale in this neighbourhood, I am not sure but I should purchase it, and settle down."

Thomas G.o.dolphin gave only a slight answer. His own business was enough for him to think of, for one day. Lord Averil suddenly remembered this, and said something to the effect, but he did not yet rise to go. Surely he could not, at that moment, contemplate speaking to Mr. G.o.dolphin about Cecil! Another minute, and Mr. Hurde had come into the room, bearing a telegraphic despatch in his hand.

"Has Mr. George brought this?" Thomas inquired, as he took it.

"No, sir. It came by the regular messenger."

"George must have missed him then," was Thomas G.o.dolphin's mental comment.

He opened the paper. He cast his eyes over the contents. It was a short message; only a few words in it, simple and easy to comprehend: but Thomas G.o.dolphin apparently could not understand it. Such at least was the impression conveyed to Lord Averil and Mr. Hurde. Both were watching him, though without motive. The clerk waited, for any orders there might be to give him: Lord Averil sat on, as he had been sitting. Thomas G.o.dolphin read it three times, and then glanced up at Mr. Hurde.

"This cannot be for us," he remarked. "Some mistake must have been made.

Some confusion, possibly, in the telegraph office in town; and the message, intended for us, has gone elsewhere."

"That could hardly be, sir," was Mr. Hurde's reply.

In good truth, Thomas G.o.dolphin himself thought it could "hardly be."

But--if the message had come right--what did it mean? Mr. Hurde, racking his brains to conjecture the nature of the message that was so evidently disturbing his master, contrived to catch sight of two or three words at the end: and they seemed to convey an ominous intimation that there were no funds to be forthcoming.

Thomas G.o.dolphin _was_ disturbed; and in no measured degree. His hands grew cold and his brow moist, as he gazed at the despatch in its every corner. According to its address, it was meant for their house, and in answer to one of the despatches he had sent up that morning. But--its contents! Surely _they_ could not be addressed to the good old house of G.o.dolphin, Crosse, and G.o.dolphin!