CHAPTER XXVII
THE VERDICT
"Six, seven, eight," said Mr. Hazlewood, counting the letters which hehad already written since breakfast and placing them on the salver whichHubbard was holding out to him. He was a very different man this morningfrom the Mr. Hazlewood of yesterday. He shone, complacent and serene. Heleaned back in his chair and gazed mildly at the butler. "There must bean answer to the problem which I put to you, Hubbard."
Hubbard wrinkled his brows in thought and succeeded only in looking ahundred and ten years old. He had the melancholy look of a moulting bird.He shook his head and drooped.
"No doubt, sir," he said.
"But as far as you are concerned," Mr. Hazlewood continued briskly, "youcan throw no light upon it?"
"Not a glimmer, sir."
Mr. Hazlewood was disappointed and with him disappointment was petulance.
"That is unlike you, Hubbard," he said, "for sometimes after I have beendeliberating for days over some curious and perplexing conundrum, youhave solved it the moment it has been put to you."
Hubbard drooped still lower. He began the droop as a bow ofacknowledgment but forgot to raise his head again.
"It is very good of you, sir," he said. He seemed oppressed by thegoodness of Mr. Hazlewood.
"Yet you are not clever, Hubbard! Not at all clever."
"No, sir. I know my place," returned the butler, and Mr. Hazlewoodcontinued with a little envy.
"You must have some wonderful gift of insight which guides you straightto the inner meaning of things."
"It's just common-sense, sir," said Hubbard.
"But I haven't got it," cried Mr. Hazlewood. "How's that?"
"You don't need it, sir. You are a gentleman," Hubbard replied, andcarried the letters to the door. There, however, he stopped. "I beg yourpardon, sir," he said, "but a new parcel of _The Prison Walls_ hasarrived this morning. Shall I unpack it?"
Mr. Hazlewood frowned and scratched his ear.
"Well--er--no, Hubbard--no," he said with a trifle of discomfort. "I amnot sure indeed that _The Prison Walls_ is not almost one of my mistakes.We all make mistakes, Hubbard. I think you shall burn that parcel,Hubbard--somewhere where it won't be noticed."
"Certainly, sir," said Hubbard. "I'll burn it under the shadow of thesouth wall."
Mr. Hazlewood looked up with a start. Was it possible that Hubbard waspoking fun at him? The mere notion was incredible and indeed Hubbardshuffled with so much meekness from the room that Mr. Hazlewood dismissedit. He went across the hall to the dining-room, where he found HenryThresk trifling with his breakfast. No embarrassment weighed upon Mr.Hazlewood this morning. He effervesced with good-humour.
"I do not blame you, Mr. Thresk," he said, "for the side you tookyesterday afternoon. You were a stranger to us in this house. Iunderstand your position."
"I am not quite so sure, Mr. Hazlewood," said Thresk drily, "that Iunderstand yours. For my part I have not closed my eyes all night. You,on the other hand, seem to have slept well."
"I did indeed," said Hazlewood. "I was relieved from a strain ofsuspense under which I have been labouring for a month past. To haverefused my consent to Richard's marriage with Stella Ballantyne on noother grounds than that social prejudice forbade it would have seemeda complete, a stupendous reversal of my whole theory and conduct oflife. I should have become an object of ridicule. People would havelaughed at the philosopher of Little Beeding. I have heard theirlaughter all this month. Now, however, once the truth is known no onewill be able to say--"
Henry Thresk looked up from his plate aghast.
"Do you mean to say, Mr. Hazlewood, that after Mrs. Ballantyne has toldher story you mean to make that story public?"
Mr. Hazlewood stared in amazement at Henry Thresk.
"But of course," he said.
"Oh, you can't be thinking of it!"
"But I am. I must do it. There is so much at stake," replied Hazlewood.
"What?"
"The whole consistency of my life. I must make it clear that I am notacting upon prejudice or suspicion or fear of what the world will say orfor any of the conventional reasons which might guide other men."
To Thresk this point of view was horrible; and there was no arguingagainst it. It was inspired by the dreadful vanity of a narrow, shallownature, and Thresk's experience had never shown him anything moredifficult to combat and overcome.
"So for the sake of your reputation for consistency you will make a veryunhappy woman bear shame and obloquy which she might easily be spared?You could find a thousand excuses for breaking off the marriage."
"You put the case very harshly, Mr. Thresk," said Hazlewood. "Butyou have not considered my position," and he went indignantly backto the library.
Thresk shrugged his shoulders. After all if Dick Hazlewood turned hisback upon Stella she would not hear the abuse or suffer the shame. Thatshe would take the dark journey as she declared he could not doubt. Andno one could prevent her--not even he himself, though his heart mightbreak at her taking it. All depended upon Dick.
He appeared a few minutes afterwards fresh from his ride, glowing withgood-humour and contentment. But the sight of Thresk surprised him.
"Hulloa," he cried. "Good-morning. I thought you were going to catch theeight forty-five."
"I felt lazy," answered Thresk. "I sent off some telegrams to put off myengagements."
"Good," said Dick, and he sat down at the breakfast-table. As he pouredout a cup of tea, Thresk said:
"I think I heard you were over thirty."
"Yes."
"Thirty's a good age," said Thresk.
"It looks back on youth," answered Dick.
"That's just what I mean," remarked Thresk. "Do you mind a cigarette?"
"Not at all."
Thresk smoked and while he smoked he talked, not carelessly yet carefulnot to emphasize his case. "Youth is a graceful thing of high-soundingwords and impetuous thoughts, but like many other graceful things it canbe very hard and very cruel."
Dick Hazlewood looked closely and quickly at his companion. But heanswered casually:
"It is supposed to be generous."
"And it is--to itself," replied Thresk. "Generous when its sympathies areenlisted, generous so long as all goes well with it: generous because itis confident of triumph. But its generosity is not a matter of judgment.It does not come from any wide outlook upon a world where there is a gooddeal to be said for everything. It is a matter of physical health."
"Yes?" said Dick.
"And once affronted, once hurt, youth finds it difficult to forgive."
So far both men had been debating on an abstract topic without anyimmediate application to themselves. But now Dick leaned across the tablewith a smile upon his face which Thresk did not understand.
"And why do you say this to me this morning, Mr. Thresk?" he askedpointedly.
"Yes, it's rather an impertinence, isn't it?" Thresk agreed. "But I waslooking into a case late last night in which irrevocable and terriblethings are going to happen if there is not forgiveness."
Dick took his cigarette-case from his pocket.
"I see," he remarked, and struck a match. Both men rose from the tableand at the door Dick turned.
"Your case, of course, has not yet come on," he said.
"No," answered Thresk, "but it will very soon."
They went into the library, and Mr. Hazlewood greeted his son with avivacity which for weeks had been absent from his demeanour.
"Did you ride this morning?" he asked.
"Yes, but Stella didn't. She sent word over that she was tired. I must goacross and see how she is."
Mr. Hazlewood interposed quickly:
"There is no need of that, my boy; she is coming here this morning."
"Oh!"
Dick looked at his father in astonishment.
"She said no word of it to me last night--and I saw her home. I supposeshe sent word over about that too?"
He looked from one to
the other of his companions, but neither answeredhim. Some uneasiness indeed was apparent in them both.
"Oho!" he said with a smile. "Stella's coming over and I knownothing of it. Mr. Thresk's lazy, so remains at Little Beeding anddelivers a lecture to me over breakfast. And you, father, seem inremarkable spirits."
Mr. Hazlewood seized upon the opportunity to interrupt his son'sreflections.
"I am, my boy," he cried. "I walked in the fields this morningand--" But he got no further with his explanations, for the sound of Mrs.Pettifer's voice rang high in the hall and she burst into the room.
"Harold, I have only a moment. Good morning, Mr. Thresk," she cried in abreath. "I have something to say to you."
Thresk was disturbed. Suppose that Stella came while Mrs. Pettifer washere! She must not speak in Mrs. Pettifer's presence. Somehow Mrs.Pettifer must be dismissed. No such anxiety, however, harassed Mr.Hazlewood.
"Say it, Margaret," he said, smiling benignantly upon her. "You cannotannoy me this morning. I am myself again," and Dick's eyes turned sharplyupon him. "All my old powers of observation have returned, my oldinterest in the great dark riddle of human life has re-awakened. Thebrain, the sedulous, active brain, resumes its work to-day askingquestions, probing problems. I rose early, Margaret," he flourished hishands like one making a speech, "and walking in the fields amongst thecows a most curious speculation forced itself upon my mind. How is it, Iasked myself--"
It seemed that Mr. Hazlewood was destined never to complete a sentencethat morning, for Margaret Pettifer at this point banged her umbrellaupon the floor.
"Stop talking, Harold, and listen to me! I have been speaking with Robertand we withdraw all opposition to Dick's marriage."
Mr. Hazlewood was dumfoundered.
"You, Margaret--you of all people!" he stammered.
"Yes," she replied decisively. "Robert likes her and Robert is a goodjudge of a woman. That's one thing. Then I believe Dick is going to takeSt. Quentins; isn't that so, Dick?"
"Yes," answered Dick. "That's the house we looked over yesterday."
"Well, it's not a couple of a hundred yards from us, and it would not becomfortable for any of us if Dick and Dick's wife were strangers. So Igive in. There, Dick!" She went across the room and held out her hand tohim. "I am going to call on Stella this afternoon."
Dick flushed with pleasure.
"That's splendid, Aunt Margaret. I knew you were all right, you know. Youput on a few frills at first, of course, but you are forgiven."
Mr. Hazlewood made so complete a picture of dismay that Dick could notbut pity him. He went across to his father.
"Now, sir," he said, "let us hear this problem."
The old man was not proof against the invitation.
"You shall, Richard," he exclaimed. "You are the very man to hear it.Your aunt, Richard, is of too practical a mind for such speculations.It's a most curious problem. Hubbard quite failed to throw any light uponit. I myself am, I confess, bewildered. And I wonder if a fresh youngmind can help us to a solution." He patted his son on the shoulder andthen took him by the arm.
"The fresh young mind will have a go, father," said Dick. "Fire away."
"I was walking in the fields, my boy."
"Yes, sir, among the cows."
"Exactly, you put your finger on the very point. How is it, I askedmyself--"
"That's quite your old style, father."
"Now isn't it, Richard, isn't it?" Mr. Hazlewood dropped Dick's arm. Hewarmed to his theme. He caught fire. He assumed the attitude of theorator. "How is it that with the advancement of science and the progressof civilization a cow gives no more milk to-day than she did at thebeginning of the Christian era?"
With outspread arms he asked for an answer and the answer came.
"A fresh young mind can solve that problem in two shakes. It is becausethe laws of nature forbid. That's your trouble, father. That's thegreat drawback to sentimental enthusiasm. It's always up against thelaws of nature."
"Dick," said Mrs. Pettifer, "by some extraordinary miracle you are giftedwith common-sense. I am off." She went away in a hurricane as she hadcome, and it was time that she did go, for even while she was closing thedoor Stella Ballantyne came out from her cottage to cross the meadow.Dick was the first to hear the gate click as she unlatched it and passedinto the garden. He took a step towards the window, but his fatherinterposed and for once with a real authority.
"No, Richard," he said. "Wait with us here. Mrs. Ballantyne has somethingto tell us."
"I thought so," said Dick quietly, and he came back to the other two men."Let me understand." His face was grave but without anger or anyconfusion. "Stella returned here last night after I had taken her home?"
"Yes," said Thresk.
"To see you?"
"Yes."
"And my father came down and found you together?"
"Yes."
"I heard voices," Mr. Hazlewood hurriedly interposed, "and so naturally Icame down."
Dick turned to his father.
"That's all right, father. I didn't think you were listening at thekeyhole. I am not blaming anybody. I want to know exactly where weare--that's all."
Stella found the little group awaiting her, and standing up before themshe told her story as she had told it last night to Thresk. She omittednothing nor did she falter. She had trembled and cried for a great partof the night over the ordeal which lay before her, but now that she hadcome to it she was brave. Her composure indeed astonished Thresk andfilled him with compassion. He knew that the very roots of her heart werebleeding. Only once or twice did she give any sign of what these fewminutes were costing her. Her eyes strayed towards Dick Hazlewood's facein spite of herself, but she turned them away again with a wrench of herhead and closed her eyelids lest she should hesitate and fail. Alllistened to her in silence, and it was strange to Thresk that the one manwho seemed least concerned of the three was Dick Hazlewood himself. Hewatched Stella all the while she was speaking, but his face was a mask,not a gesture or movement gave a clue to his thoughts. When Stella hadfinished he asked composedly:
"Why didn't you tell me all this at the beginning, Stella?"
And now she turned to him in a burst of passion and remorse.
"Oh, Dick, I tried to tell you. I made up my mind so often that I would,but I never had the courage. I am terribly to blame. I hid it all fromyou--yes. But oh! you meant so much to me--you yourself, Dick. It wasn'tyour position. It wasn't what you brought with you, other people'sfriendship, other people's esteem. It was just you--you--you! I longedfor you to want me, as I wanted you." Then she recovered herself andstopped. She was doing the very thing she had resolved not to do. She waspleading, she was making excuses. She drew herself up and with a dignitywhich was quite pitiful she now pleaded against herself.
"But I don't ask for your pity. You mustn't be merciful. I don't _want_mercy, Dick. That's of no use to me. I want to know what you think--justwhat you really and truthfully think--that's all. I can stand alone--if Imust. Oh yes, I can stand alone." And as Thresk stirred and moved,knowing well in what way she meant to stand alone, Stella turned her eyesfull upon him in warning, nay, in menace. "I can stand alone quiteeasily, Dick. You mustn't think that I should suffer so very much. Ishouldn't! I shouldn't--"
In spite of her control a sob broke from her throat and her bosom heaved;and then Dick Hazlewood went quietly to her side and took her hand.
"I didn't interrupt you, Stella. I wanted you to tell everything now,once for all, so that no one of us three need ever mention a word ofit again."
Stella looked at Dick Hazlewood in wonder, and then a light broke overher face like the morning. His arm slipped about her waist and she leanedagainst him suddenly weak, almost to swooning. Mr. Hazlewood started upfrom his chair in consternation.
"But you heard her, Richard!"
"Yes, father, I heard her," he answered. "But you see Stella is my wife."
"Your--" Mr. Hazlewood's lips refused to speak the word. He
fell backagain in his chair and dropped his face in his hands. "Oh, no!"
"It's true," said Dick. "I have rooms in London, you know. I went toLondon last week. Stella came up on Monday. It was my doing, my wish.Stella is my wife."
Mr. Hazlewood groaned aloud.
"But she has tricked you, Richard," and Stella agreed.
"Yes, I tricked you, Dick. I did," she said miserably, and she drewherself from his arm. But he caught her hand.
"No, you didn't." He led her over to his father. "That's where you bothmake your mistake. Stella tried to tell me something on the very nightwhen we walked back from this house to her cottage and I asked her tomarry me. She has tried again often during the last weeks. I knew verywell what it was--before you turned against her, before I married her.She didn't trick me."
Mr. Hazlewood turned in despair to Henry Thresk.
"What do you say?" he asked.
"That I am very glad you asked me here to give my advice on yourcollection," Thresk answered. "I was inclined yesterday to take adifferent view of your invitation. But I did what perhaps I may suggestthat you should do: I accepted the situation."
He went across to Stella and took her hands.
"Oh, thank you," she cried, "thank you."
"And now"--Thresk turned to Dick--"if I might look at a _Bradshaw_ Icould find out the next train to London."
"Certainly," said Dick, and he went over to the writing-table. Stella andHenry Thresk were left alone for a moment.
"We shall see you again," she said. "Please!"
Thresk laughed.
"No doubt. I am not going out into the night. You know my address. If youdon't ask Mr. Hazlewood. It's in King's Bench Walk, isn't it?" And hetook the time-table from Dick Hazlewood's hand.
THE END
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