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Witness to the Deed, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 11. Fate! |
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_ CHAPTER ELEVEN. FATE! Barron was back to dine at the admiral's that night, but the dinner was not a success. Myra was singularly cold and formal in her manner; Edie pleaded a headache; and the admiral was worried by recollections of the morning's blunder, and felt awkward and constrained with his guest. Strive hard as he would he could not help making comparisons, and a curious feeling of pity came over him as he thought of Stratton's blank face and the look of despair in his eyes, while he half wished that he had not allowed himself to be so easily won over to the engagement. "For he is, after all, nearly a stranger," he mused as his son-in-law elect tried hard to secure Myra's interest in a society anecdote he was retailing, to which she listened and that was all. "Yes, a stranger," mused Sir Mark. "I know very little about him. Bah! Absurd! What should I know of any man who wanted to marry my girl? I might meet his relatives, and there would be a certain amount of intercourse, but if I knew them for fifty years it would not make the man a good husband to my poor girl. He loves her dearly; he is a fine, clever, manly fellow; there is no doubt about the Barron estate in Trinidad, and he has a handsome balance at his banker's." The ladies rose soon after, and Barron held the door open, returning slowly to his seat, and shrugging his shoulders slightly. For there had been no tender look as Myra passed out, and Barron's thought was justified. "Don't seem as if we were engaged. I hope," he said aloud, "Myra is not unwell." "Eh? Oh, no, my dear boy, no. Girls do come over grumpy sometimes. Here, try this claret, and let's have a cozy chat for an hour before we go up." "An hour?" said Barron, with a raising of the eyebrows. "Yes; why not? You're not a love-sick boy, and you'll have plenty of your wife by and by." "Not a boy, certainly, sir. As to the love-sickness--well, I don't know. But--yes, that's a good glass of claret. Larose, eh?" "Yes. Fill your glass again." "Willingly," said Baron, obeying his host, and pushing back the jug, "for I want to talk to you, sir, very seriously, and one seems to get on over a glass of wine." "To talk to me?" said Sir Mark sharply, for his nerves were still ajar. "Nothing the matter?" "Yes--and no." "Look here, Barron," cried Sir Mark excitedly, "no beating about the bush. If you want to draw back from your engagement say so like a man." "If I want to draw back from my engagement, my dear sir? What in the world are you thinking about?" "I--er--well, your manner was so strange." "Not strange, Sir Mark: serious. There are serious moments in my life. By the way, I have seen my solicitor again respecting the settlements, and the papers will be ready at any time." "No hurry, sir, no hurry," said Sir Mark, frowning. "Well?" Barron drew a long breath. "Well, what is it, man--what is wrong?" "Only the old story. When the cat's away the mice will play." "What do you mean?" "I've had bad news from my agent in Trinidad." "Indeed!" "He writes to me by this mail that he has done his best, but the estate needs my immediate supervision--that he cannot exert the same influence and authority that I should." "Losses?" "Oh, no; gains--that is, a little on the right side. But a little is absurd. Those plantations ought to produce a princely revenue." The admiral looked at his guest keenly. "Well," he said at last, "what does this mean?" "That in spite of everything--my own desires and the love I have for England--I shall have to run across as soon as possible." "For how long?" "I cannot say--probably for a year." "Hah!" ejaculated the admiral, with a sigh of relief. "A year before he would be compelled to part with his child." "And under the circumstances, Sir Mark, I am obliged to throw myself upon your mercy." "What do you mean?" cried the admiral in alarm. "Can you ask, sir?" said Barron reproachfully. "I know it is making a great demand upon you and dear Myra; but life is short, and I ask you if my position would not be terrible. It would be like exile to me. I could not bear it. I would say to my agent, 'Let the estate go to--' never mind where; but that would be courting ruin at a time when I am beginning to learn the value of money, as a slave of the lamp, who can, at my lightest order, bring everything I desire to lay at my darling's feet." "You mean," cried the admiral hotly, "that you want the wedding hurried on?" "To be plain, Sir Mark, I do. In a month from now. I must go by the next mail boat but one." "It is impossible, sir!" cried Sir Mark. Barron shook his head and the admiral changed his position in his chair. "But Myra?" he cried. "Oh, she would never consent to its being so soon." "I believe our dear Myra would, in the sweetness of her disposition alone, consent, Sir Mark," said Barron gravely; "and as soon as she knows of the vital importance of time to the man who will be her husband, she will endeavour to meet his wishes in every way." "Yes, yes; she is a dear, good girl," said Sir Mark; "but this is terrible: so soon." "The time for parting must come, Sir Mark, sooner or later; and think: it is for her benefit and happiness. Well, yes, I must confess to my own selfish wishes." "And then there is her aunt--my sister. She would never consent to-- Yes, I know exactly what she would say--such indecent haste." "Only an elderly lady's objection, Sir Mark," said Barron, smiling. "You are certainly bringing forward a real difficulty now, for I fear that I have never found favour in Miss Jerrold's eyes. But surely she has no right to dictate in a case like this. Nay, let us have no opposition. I will appeal to Miss Jerrold myself. She is too high-minded and sweet a lady to stand in the way of her niece's and my happiness. I am satisfied of that. Come, Sir Mark, look at the case plainly. You have been a sailor, sir, and know the meaning of sudden orders to join. Nothing would stop you. Mine are not so sudden, for I have--that is, at all risks, I will have--a month. My fortune is at stake--Myra's fortune, I may say. Help me as you feel the case deserves." The admiral was silent for a few minutes, during which he filled and emptied his claret glass twice. "You've floored me, Barron," he said at last. "I can't find an argument against you." "Then you consent? And you will help me in every way?" "It is hard work, my boy--a terrible wrench, but I suppose I must. In a month," he muttered; "so soon--and for her to sail right away for a whole year." Barron wrung his hand hard and smiled. "How long will it be, my dear sir, before your old taste for the sea returns? Why, you'll be running across before three months are past. Really I should not be surprised if you announced that you meant to come with us." "Hah! Why not?" cried Sir Mark eagerly. "No, no; that would not do. But I certainly will run over before long." "Do, sir," cried Barron eagerly. "Barbadoes, Bahamas, Bermuda," cried Sir Mark. "Why, I could take a trip anywhere among the islands. It's all familiar ground to me. But poor Myra--a month; so soon. I don't feel as if I am doing right, Barron; but there, it is fate." "Yes, sir, it is fate." _ |
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