"I don"t care a fig about the balance," said Julian impetuously. "I"ve said what I had to say and that"s enough for me."
And he did not, in fact, care a fig about the balance. And if the balance had been five thousand odd instead of five hundred odd, he still probably would not have cared. Further, he privately considered that n.o.body else ought to care about the balance, either, having regard to the supreme moral importance to himself of the four hundred and fifty.
"Have you said anything to Mr. Batchgrew?" Louis asked, trying to adopt a casual tone, and to keep out of his voice the relief and joy which were gradually taking possession of his soul. The upshot of Julian"s visit was so amazingly different from the apprehension of it that he could have danced in his glee.
"Not I!" Julian answered ferociously. "The old robber has been writing me, wanting me to put money into some cinema swindle or other. I gave him a bit of my mind."
"He was trying the same here," said Rachel. The words popped by themselves out of her mouth, and she instantly regretted them.
However, Louis seemed to be unconscious of the implied reproach on a subject presumably still highly delicate.
"But you can tell him, if you"ve a mind," Julian went on challengingly.
"We shan"t do any such thing," said Rachel, words again popping by themselves out of her mouth. But this time she put herself right by adding, "Shall we, Louis?"
"Of course not," Louis agreed very amiably.
Rachel began to feel sympathetic towards the thief. She thought: "How strange to have some one close to me, and talking quite naturally, who has stolen such a lot of money and might be in prison for it--a convict!" Nevertheless, the thief seemed to be remarkably like ordinary people.
"Oh!" Julian e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "Well, here"s the notes." He drew a lot of notes from a pocket-book and banged them down on the table. "Four hundred and fifty. The identical notes. Count "em." He glared afresh, and with even increased virulence.
"That"s all right," said Louis. "That"s all right. Besides, we only want half of them."
Sundry sheets of the confession, which had not previously caught fire, suddenly blazed up with a roar in the grate, and all looked momentarily at the flare.
"You"ve _got_ to have it all!" said Julian, flushing.
"My dear fellow," Louis repeated, "we shall only take half. The other half"s yours."
"As G.o.d sees me," Julian urged, "I"ll never take a penny of that money! Here--"
He s.n.a.t.c.hed up all the notes and dashed wrathfully out of the parlour.
Rachel followed quickly. He went to the back room, where the gas had been left burning high, sprang on to a chair in front of the cupboard, and deposited the notes on the top of the cupboard, in the very place from which he had originally taken them.
"There!" he exclaimed, jumping down from the chair. The symbolism of the action appeared to tranquillize him.
IV
For a moment Rachel, as a newly const.i.tuted housewife to whom every square foot of furniture surface had its own peculiar importance, was enraged to see Julian"s heavy and dirty boots again on the seat of her unprotected chair. But the sense of hurt pa.s.sed like a spasm as her eyes caught Julian"s. They were alone together in the back room and not far from each other. And in the man"s eyes she no longer saw the savage Julian, but an intensely suffering creature, a creature martyrized by destiny. She saw the real Julian glancing out in torment at the world through those eyes. The effect of the vibration in Julian"s voice a few minutes earlier was redoubled. Her emotion nearly overcame her. She desired very much to succour Julian, and was aware of a more distinct feeling of impatience against Louis.
She thought Julian had been magnificently heroic, and all his faults of demeanour were counted to him for excellences. He had been a thief; but the significance of the word "thief" was indeed completely altered for her. She had hitherto envisaged thieves as rascals in handcuffs bandied along the streets by policemen at the head of a procession of urchins--dreadful rascals! But now a thief was just a young man like other young men--only he had happened to see some bank-notes lying about and had put them in his pocket and then had felt very sorry for what he had done. There was no crime in what he had done ... was there? She pictured Julian"s pilgrimage through South Africa, all alone. She pictured his existence at Knype, all alone; and his very ferocity rendered him the more wistful and pathetic in her sight. She was sure that his mother and sisters had never understood him; and she did not think it quite proper on their part to have gone permanently to America, leaving him solitary in England, as they had done. She perceived that she herself was the one person in the world capable of understanding Julian, the one person who could look after him, influence him, keep him straight, civilize him, and impart some charm to his life. And she was glad that she had the status of a married woman, because without that she would have been helpless.
Julian sat down, or sank, on to the chair.
"I"m very sorry I spoke like that to you in the other room--I mean about what you"d written," she said. "I suppose I ought not to have burnt it."
She spoke in this manner because to apologize to him gave her a curious pleasure.
"That"s nothing," he answered, with the quietness of fatigue. "I dare say you were right enough. Anyhow, ye"ll never see me again."
She exclaimed, kindly protesting--
"Why not, I should like to know?"
"You won"t want me here as a visitor, after all this." He faintly sneered.
"I shall," she insisted.
"Louis won"t."
She replied: "You must come and see me. I shall expect you to. I must tell you," she added confidentially, in a lower tone, "I think you"ve been splendid to-night. I"m sure I respect you much more than I did before--and you can take it how you like!"
"Nay! Nay!" he murmured deprecatingly. All the harshness had melted out of his voice.
Then he stood up.
"I"d better hook it," he said briefly. "Will you get me my overcoat, missis."
She comprehended that he wished to avoid speaking to Louis again that night, and, nodding, went at once to the parlour and brought away the overcoat.
"He"s going," she muttered hastily to Louis, who was standing near the fire. Leaving the parlour, she drew the door to behind her.
She helped Julian with his overcoat and preceded him to the front door. She held out her hand to be tortured afresh, and suffered the grip of the vice with a steady smile.
"Now don"t forget," she whispered.
Julian seemed to try to speak and to fail.... He was gone. She carefully closed and bolted the door.
V
Louis had not followed Julian and Rachel into the back room because he felt the force of an instinct to be alone with his secret satisfaction. In those moments it irked him to be observed, and especially to be observed by Rachel, not to mention Julian. He was glad for several reasons--on account of his relief, on account of the windfall of money, and perhaps most of all on account of the discovery that he was not the only thief in the family. The bizarre coincidence which had divided the crime about equally between himself and Julian amused him. His case and Julian"s were on a level. Nevertheless, he somewhat despised Julian, patronized him, condescended to him. He could not help thinking that Julian was, after all, a greater sinner than himself. Never again could Julian look him (Louis) in the face as if nothing had happened. The blundering Julian was marked for life, by his own violent, unreasonable hand. Julian was a fool.
Rachel entered rather solemnly.
"Has he really gone?" Louis asked. Rachel did not care for her husband"s tone, which was too frivolous for her. She was shocked to find that Louis had not been profoundly impressed by the events of the night.
"Yes," she said.
"What"s he done with the money?"
"He"s left it in the other room." She would not disclose to Louis that Julian had restored the notes to the top of the cupboard, because she was afraid that he might treat the symbolic act with levity.
"All of it?"
"Yes. I"ll bring it you."