"And this father of his is totally lost sight of; you say?" observed Mr Trevor.
"Altogether: I have never been able to trace him," replied McShane.
"I was observing to his sister--" said Mr Trevor.
"He has no sister," interrupted McShane.
"Still there is a young woman--and a very sweet young woman, too--who came to me in London, to engage me for his defence, who represented herself as his sister."
"That is strange," rejoined McShane, musing.
"But, however," continued Mr Trevor, "as I was about to say, I was observing to this young woman how strange it was, that the first time I was legally employed for the name of Rushbrook, it should be a case which, in the opinion of the world, should produce the highest gratification, and that in the second in one which has ended in misery."
"How do you mean?" inquired McShane.
"I put a person of the name of Rushbrook in possession of a large fortune. I asked our young friend"s sister whether he could be any relation; but she said no."
"Young Rushbrook had no sister, I am sure," interrupted McShane.
"I now recollect," continued Mr Trevor, "that this person who came into the fortune stated that he had formerly held a commission in the army."
"Then, depend on it, it"s Rushbrook himself, who has given himself brevet rank," replied McShane. "Where is he now?"
"Down in Dorsetshire," said Mr Trevor. "He succeeded to the Austin estates, and has taken the name."
""Tis he--"tis he--I"ll swear to it," cried McShane. "Phillaloo!
Murder and Irish! the murder"s out now. No wonder this gentleman wouldn"t return my visit, and keeps himself entirely at home. I beg your pardon, Mr Trevor, but what sort of a looking personage may he be, for as I have said, I have never seen this Mr Austin?"
"A fine, tall, soldierly man; I should say rough, but still not vulgar; dark hair and eyes, aquiline nose; if I recollect right--"
""Tis the man!" exclaimed O"Donahue.
"And his wife--did you see her?" asked McShane.
"No I did not," replied Mr Trevor.
"Well, I have seen her very often," rejoined McShane; "and a very nice creature she appears to be. I have never been in their house in my life. I called and left my card, that"s all; but I have met her several times; however, as you have not seen her, that proves nothing; and now, Mr Trevor, what do you think we should do?"
"I really am not prepared to advise; it is a case of great difficulty; I think, however, it would be advisable for you to call upon young Rushbrook, and see what you can obtain from him; after that, if you come here to-morrow morning, I will be better prepared to give you an answer."
"I will do as you wish, sir; I will call upon my friend first, and my name"s not McShane if I don"t call upon his father afterwards."
"Do nothing rashly, I beg," replied Mr Trevor; "recollect you have come to me for advice, and I think you are bound at least to hear what I have to propose before you act."
"That"s the truth, Mr Trevor; so now with many thanks, we will take our leave, and call upon you to-morrow."
McShane and O"Donahue then proceeded to the gaol, and demanded permission to see our hero.
"There are two ladies with him, just now," said the gaoler; "they have been there these three hours, so I suppose they will not be much longer."
"We will wait, then," replied O"Donahue.
In about a quarter of an hour Mrs Austin and Mary made their appearance; the former was closely veiled when she entered the gaoler"s parlour, in which O"Donahue and McShane were waiting. It had not been the intention of Mrs Austin to have gone into the parlour, but her agitation and distress had so overcome her that she could scarcely walk, and Mary had persuaded her as she came down to go in and take gla.s.s of water. The gentlemen rose when she came in; she immediately recognised McShane, and the sudden rush into her memory of what might be the issue of the meeting, was so overwhelming, that she dropped into a chair and fainted.
Mary ran for some water, and while she did so, McShane and O"Donahue went to the a.s.sistance of Mrs Austin. The veil was removed; and, of course, she was immediately recognised by McShane, who was now fully convinced that Austin and Rushbrook were one and the same person.
Upon the first signs of returning animation, McShane had the delicacy to withdraw, and making a sign to the gaoler, he and O"Donahue repaired to the cell of our hero. The greeting was warm on both sides. McShane was eager to enter upon the subject; he pointed out to Joey that he knew who committed the murder; indeed, plainly told him, that it was the deed of his father. But Joey, as before, would admit nothing; he was satisfied with their belief in his innocence, but, having made up his mind to suffer, could not be persuaded to reveal the truth, and McShane and O"Donahue quitted the cell, perceiving that, unless most decided steps were taken, without the knowledge of our hero, there was no chance of his being extricated from his melancholy fate. Struck with admiration at his courage and self-devotion towards an unworthy parent, they bade him farewell, simply promising to use all their endeavours in his behalf.
CHAPTER FORTY NINE.
THE INTERVIEW.
According to their arrangement, on the following morning, McShane and O"Donahue called upon Mr Trevor, and after half an hour"s consultation, it was at last decided that they should make an attempt to see Austin, and bide the issue of the interview, when they would again communicate with the lawyer, who was to return to town on the following day. They then set off as fast as four horses could convey them, and drove direct to the Hall, where they arrived about six o"clock in the evening.
It had so happened that Austin had the evening before inquired for his wife. The servant reported to him what Mary had told them, and Austin, who was in a fidgety humour, had sent for the coachman who had driven the carriage, to inquire whether Mrs Austin"s friend was very ill. The coachman stated that he had not driven over to the place in question, but to the nearest post-town, where Mrs Austin had taken a postchaise.
This mystery and concealment on the part of his wife was not very agreeable to a man of Mr Austin"s temper; he was by turns indignant and alarmed; and after having pa.s.sed a sleepless night, had been all the day anxiously waiting Mrs Austin"s return, when the sound of wheels was heard, and the carriage of McShane drove up to the door. On inquiry if Mr Austin was at home, the servants replied that they would ascertain; and Austin, who imagined that this unusual visit might be connected with his wife"s mysterious absence, desired the butler to show in the visitors. Austin started at the announcement of the names, but recovering himself; he remained standing near the table, drawn up to his full height.
"Mr Austin," said O"Donahue, "we have ventured to call upon you upon an affair of some importance: as Mr Austin, we have not the pleasure of your acquaintance, but we were formerly, if I mistake not, serving his majesty in the same regiment."
"I do not pretend to deny, gentlemen, that you once knew me under different circ.u.mstances," replied Austin, haughtily; "will you please to be seated, and then probably you will favour me with the cause of this visit."
"May I inquire of you, Mr Austin," said McShane, "if you may have happened to look over the newspapers within these few days?"
"No! and now I recollect--which is unusual--the papers have not been brought to me regularly."
"They were probably withheld from you in consequence of the intelligence they would have conveyed to you."
"May I ask what that intelligence may be?" inquired Austin, surprised.
"The trial, conviction, and sentence to transportation for life of one Joseph Rushbrook, for the murder of a man of the name of Byres," replied McShane; "Mr Austin, you are of course aware that he is your son."
"You have, of course, seen the party, and he has made that statement to you?" replied Mr Austin.
"We have seen the party, but he has not made that statement," replied O"Donahue; "but do you pretend to deny it?"
"I am not aware upon what grounds you have thought proper to come here to interrogate me," replied Austin. "Supposing that I had a son, and that son has as you say been guilty of the deed, it certainly is no concern of yours."
"First, with your leave, Mr Austin," said McShane, "let me prove that he is your son. You were living at Gra.s.sford, where the murder was committed; your son ran away in consequence, and fell into the hands of Captain (now General) O"Donahue; from him your son was made over to me, and I adopted him; but having been recognised when at school, by Furness, the schoolmaster of the village, he absconded to avoid being apprehended; and I have never seen him from that time till yesterday morning, when I called upon him, and had an interview as soon as his mother, Mrs Austin, had quitted the cell in Exeter gaol, where he is at present confined."
Austin started--here was the cause of Mrs Austin"s absence explained; neither could he any longer refuse to admit that Joey was his son.
After a silence of a minute, he replied--
"I have to thank you much for your kindness to my poor boy, Major McShane; and truly sorry am I that he is in such a dilemma. Now that I am acquainted with it, I shall do all in my power. There are other Rushbrooks, gentlemen, and you cannot be surprised at my not immediately admitting that such a disgrace had occurred to my own family. Of Mrs Austin"s having been with him I a.s.sure you I had not any idea; her having gone there puts it beyond a doubt, although it has been carefully concealed from me till this moment."
It must not be supposed that, because Austin replied so calmly to Major McShane, he was calm within. On the contrary, from the very first of the interview he had been in a state of extreme excitement, and the struggle to command his feelings was terrible; indeed, it was now so painfully expressed in his countenance, that O"Donahue said--
"Perhaps, Mr Austin, you will allow me to ring for a little water?"