"Well, fifty it is, then. Between us, that was all I hesitated about; twenty-five pounds was such a pitiful sum for you to ask of me. You didn"t understand this n.o.ble feeling, and almost threatened me; but not quite, and I"m glad of it, for Matthew Stacy is the last man on earth to give up to a threat. I hope you will believe that, Miss Margaret."
"Fifty pounds!" said Margaret, lifting a tuft of gra.s.s by the roots with the point of her parasol.
"Did I dispute its being fifty? Certainly not. Now just say how you will take it--in gold or Bank of England notes?"
"Notes will do."
"I"m glad you said that, because I happen to have the notes about me,"
answered the alderman, drawing out a plethoric note-case, and counting the money with terrible reluctance. "Here we are; just the sum. Now tell me, were you really in earnest about its being fifty?"
"Just fifty," answered Margaret, counting the money on her lap; "just fifty."
Matthew heaved a grievous sigh, and stood up.
"Now I suppose that little affair is settled forever?" he said, working both hands about the head of his cane, while he eyed the girl askance.
"I said fifty pounds, and fifty pounds it is," answered Margaret. "Now let us be going."
"But you mean to act fair?"
"I mean to act fair, and return your money."
"Oh, I don"t mean that, I don"t want that! It was the other affair; you could not do anything so cruel."
Margaret turned short round and faced the stout man, who was trembling, abjectly, from head to foot.
"Mr. Stacy, I have kept silent fifteen years and rather over. If I have not spoken before, you may be certain I never shall. I wanted this money very much, indeed, and shall repay it with less thankfulness because of the mean way in which I forced it from you. Your wife may wear her shawl and watch to the end, for any harm I mean her. Good morning, Mr. Stacy."
Stacy stood just as she left him, thrusting his cane into the turf.
"And she wouldn"t have done it after all. What a confounded fool I have made of myself! Two hundred and fifty dollars, and gold up to one-forty at home, which makes another clean hundred. What a mercy it is she didn"t ask a thousand, though! She took the starch out of me, through and through. I should have handed over anything she asked."
As Stacy was walking from the park, now and then giving a punch to the turf with his cane, in discontented abstraction, he nearly ran against a man who had just pa.s.sed the gate, and, looking up angrily, saw Hepworth Closs. The poor craven turned white as he saw that face; but Hepworth was in haste, and took no heed of his agitation.
"You are just the man I most wanted," he said.
"What--what--me? Is it me you wanted?" stammered Stacy, smitten with abject terror.
"Yes; you are an American, and will understand the value of American bonds."
"American bonds! Surely, Mr. Closs, you will at least give me a chance of bail? I tell you it is all false! That creature isn"t to be believed under oath."
"I have no idea what you mean," said Closs, a good deal puzzled; "but you evidently do not understand me. I am about to leave England, and have a monied trust to settle before I go. There is a reason why it is inexpedient for me to act in person. I wish to pay the money, but give no explanation. Will you act as my agent in this?"
"Is--is it--that estate you are just settling up?" asked Stacy, below his breath, for he felt as if the earth were about to swallow him. "Is it that?"
"I can give you no explanation. This money came into my hands years ago.
I invested it carefully--doubled it over and over again; but now I wish to give up my trust. I have it here in American bonds, fifty thousand dollars."
"Fifty thousand!"
"Just that. I wish you to take this to the young lady, to whom it rightfully belongs, and place it in her own hands, with the simple statement that it is hers. Will you oblige me in this?"
"First tell me who the young lady is."
"Lady Clara, the daughter of Lord Hope, of Oakhurst."
"The daughter of a lord! My dear sir, I shall be too happy!"
"But there is a condition. I do not wish the lady to guess where this money comes from. You must be understood as the agent, who has invested and increased it from a small property left in New York by a relative.
This will work you no harm, but, on the contrary, win for you favor and grat.i.tude from as n.o.ble a lady as ever lived."
"Will it get an invitation to Oakhurst for myself and Mrs. Stacy? That is a thing I should like to mention incidentally, to the Board of Aldermen when they give me a public reception in the Governor"s Room.
Will it bring about something of that kind?"
"That I cannot tell. The young lady is not now at Oakhurst, but with her grandmother, at Houghton Castle. It is there you will find her."
"Houghton Castle! Why, that"s the place I saw mentioned in the Court Journal. There is to be tremendous doings at Houghton Castle before long; a grand entertainment, to which all the grandees, far and near, are invited. What if this fifty thousand dollars should get me and Mrs.
S. an invite? That would be a crusher."
"It is possible," said Closs, controlling the fierce beating of his heart. "Come to my hotel in the morning, early. I am anxious to get this trust off my mind."
Stacy promised, and the two men parted, the one elated, the other doubtful, hara.s.sed, and painfully disappointed; but the very next day after Matthew Stacy left London for Houghton, Hepworth Closs received a letter, which put all ideas of a voyage to America out of his mind.
CHAPTER XXIX.
OLYMPIA"S DEFEAT.
Olympia stood, panic-stricken, in her fantastic little boudoir, when she reached home and found a note from Caroline, bidding her farewell, and stating that, not being able to comply with her wishes, she had accepted the other alternative, and left her house forever, in company with her father and the old servant, who had been so faithful to her. The note breathed of sadness and sorrow at the manner of her leaving, and, if firm, was entirely respectful; but it said nothing of her plans, nor told where she was going.
Now, Olympia thought that she had provided against the possibility of a choice between her cruel commands, by depriving both Caroline and her father of all means by which they could leave her. She had gone out, certain of the girl"s forced submission, and came back to find her gone.
She crushed the note in her hand, flung it down and stamped upon it furiously; for it seemed as if half a million of gold had melted down into the bit of paper, which she could only trample under her feet in impotent wrath.
"The viper! the ingrate! the thing made of iron! Oh, if it were her! if it were her! I would trample her through the floor! Where did she get the money? He had nothing--she had nothing. I thought I had chained them to me by their poverty; then I came home, so exhilarated by this great offer from the manager--and she is gone! So beautiful! and such a voice!
Gone! gone! Oh, what a loss!"
Here Olympia, who had never known what self-control was, flung herself on a low, silken couch, heaped with cushions, like a divan, and began to pound them with her little fists, and spurn them with the soiled white satin slippers, in which she had been to rehearsal. This burst of hysterical fury would have brought down the house had she plunged into such naturalness on the stage. But she started up, and after s.n.a.t.c.hing a mosaic card-receiver from her footman, and dashing it against a marble statuette of Venus coming from the bath, thus demolishing what little drapery the poor thing was trying to make the most of, came partially to herself and demanded what the fellow wanted.
The footman, shivering under his blue and silver, pointed to a card which lay on the carpet.
"Why don"t you pick it up?" cried Olympia, stamping her satin slipper into a cl.u.s.ter of roses, that seemed to disappear from the carpet.
The man took up the card and handed it to her, with a reverence so humble that she longed to trample him down with the mock roses, and get him out of her sight; but, as he towered above her a foot or two, the process seemed difficult, so she ordered him out of the room, and looked at the card.