XXVII

They all rose at this sudden interruption.

“Arrest him!” said Godwin, pointing to Martial.

“Arrest! What do you mean?” said Mr. Goring.

“I⁠—I⁠—ha⁠—ha⁠—hum!” said Cornleigh.

“That’s the man⁠—take him! Where’s your handcuffs?” shouted Godwin.

“On what charge?” said Mr. Goring.

“On what charge?” asked Cornleigh, naturally repeating, as he had done for so many years.

“I charge him with attempted murder⁠—he fired at me! come, seize him!”

—Godwin thrust the policeman forward; the constable hesitated and looked towards the magistrate for instructions.

“I charge you with the most brutal assault,” said Martial. “You tried to make the horse trample on Felise”⁠—he held Felise’s arm as if it were necessary to protect her even there, “I say arrest him!” shouted Godwin. “Quick⁠—the handcuffs!”

Martial stepped forward with flushed face, but Mr. Goring intervened and held him back.

“Robert Godwin, leave this house!” he cried sternly.

“Leave the house!” repeated Cornleigh.

“He is a spendthrift rascal!” shouted Godwin, pushing to get past Goring, and so at Martial.

Martial tried to get at the fellow. “Keep them apart!” cried Goring.

“Keep them apart!” cried Cornleigh, seizing Godwin’s right arm, while the constable held his left.

“You ruined your cousins⁠—you have brought the Miss Barnards to ruin! You have wasted your substance⁠—you spendthrift rascal!” screamed the steward.

“Martial⁠—Martial!” cried Felise; “don’t, dear! don’t strike him⁠—he is insane!”

Martial ceased to press towards the intruder, but Godwin, in his ungovernable fury, dragged Cornleigh and the constable by main force past the window. From the window a stern hand seized the steward’s collar⁠—it was Abner. Godwin turned fiercely towards him.

“You be the man as killed my Mary,” said Abner.

“Liar!”

“ ’Twas through you and he” (nodding towards Cornleigh) “as she jumped in the mill-pool. Thank you, miss, for the oak coffin as you give her. Measter Godwin, you knows what you said to Mary in the field once.”

With a great effort Godwin forced himself free from Cornleigh and the constable, upsetting some flowers in the window; he struck wildly at Abner as he passed⁠—Abner drew back and let the blow expend itself⁠—and rushed at Martial. Felise sprang in front of Martial and received a skirting blow on her arm; she cried out. Martial, Mr. Goring, Cornleigh, and the constable together seized the madman.

Yet such was his immense strength that he dragged them to and fro⁠—he swung them to and fro⁠—the table cracked as their weight pressed on it, the partition-wall trembled as they came against it. Felise beckoned Abner⁠—he ran in and helped. At last the paroxysm decreased; the four of them held Godwin somewhat still, but he continued to shout forth accusations at Martial, They pinioned him against the wall; he ground his teeth and foamed at the mouth, his face was black as night, his colourless eyes glared at Felise.

“You gave him the horse as a present,” he panted. “Disgraceful! You gave him Ruy as a present, and he⁠—he⁠—he jilted Rosa Wood. He did⁠—there⁠—he was engaged to her⁠—he jilted her!”

“He did not,” said a voice, and Rosa Wood entered. She had knocked several times, but no one answered, and, hearing voices, she had ventured to enter. “He did not. My father broke off the engagement. It was not Martial.”

“I say arrest him!” shouted Godwin, again struggling.

“You are excited⁠—wait till tomorrow,” said Mr. Goring, hoping to reason with him.

“Wait till tomorrow,” repeated Cornleigh.

“What⁠—you?” cried the steward, as if at last recognising his employer.

“You are excited,” repeated Cornleigh.

“What!” cried Godwin, as if this was too much; that the man he had served so long should turn against and hold him.

“Wait till tomorrow⁠—tomorrow,” repeated Cornleigh.

“Why, he insulted you on the platform at the meeting,” said Godwin.

“Try and be calm,” said Mr. Goring.

“Try and be calm,” repeated Cornleigh.

“Let me go,” said Robert, suddenly ceasing to struggle. They left holding him; he walked out of the room and across the lawn, bareheaded in the sunshine.

“ ’Twas you as killed my Mary!” shouted Abner after him; he did not look back.

“He’ll come to hisself presently,” said the constable; “I’ll just see him home.” He went after the steward.

As the agitation in the room subsided, Rosa felt the necessity of explaining her appearance.

“I had something to say to Martial and you,” she said to Mr. Goring. “But I am glad Mr. Cornleigh is here.”

“I am sorry you found things in such disorder among us,” said Mr. Goring, offering her a chair, but she continued standing near Felise. She had evidently strung up her resolution, and wished to speak at once.

“Martial!” she said.

“Rosa!” his tone was somewhat constrained.

“It is not true that he wasted the Miss Barnards’ money,” said Rosa, turning a little and speaking towards Mr. Goring. “The truth is just the reverse⁠—he straitened his own means for their sake. Martial! Martial!” (she spoke to him by name, but her face was towards Mr. Goring), “I⁠—I did not know till the meeting that you were in such trouble. I⁠—I am very, very sorry⁠—don’t leave the old farm. I will lend you my money⁠—it is four thousand⁠—and you can settle” (she could not say “marry”)⁠—“I mean you can stay. Mr. Cornleigh, you will let him, won’t you?”

“Of course,” said Cornleigh. “I⁠—I have just mentioned the matter. Barnard, think it over.”

“No,” said Martial, “I cannot do it; I cannot go back; I will not submit again.”

“Can be arranged,” said Cornleigh. “Mistake put right, you know; all a mistake.”

“Do take it!” said Rosa. “It is my own⁠—no one can stop me; but no one wishes to, for I have told papa. Do take it! it is four thousand⁠—it is plenty.”

“This is very noble of you,” said Felise. “I hate you!” whispered Rosa aside.

“Oh!” Felise drew back. She understood instantly⁠—a whisper, the sound of which the rest had heard, but had not caught the words, was enough for a woman.

“I cannot take it, Rosa,” said Martial. “It is too much to thank you for⁠—it is beyond thanks; but I cannot⁠—I would rather work with my hands than return.”

“But you must have it⁠—I shall not be happy unless. There, I have said it⁠—I will write⁠—” her voice faltered a little. “Mr. Goring, will you come with me?” Mr. Goring accompanied her to her carriage, she repeated it to him more fully, and begged him to use his influence with Martial, and not to let him leave the old house. He promised to do his best.

Meantime, Cornleigh was fidgeting with his hat; though he was present, Martial could not quite suppress his feelings, and was perhaps more anxious than absolutely necessary in his inquiries if Felise’s arm was hurt. She assured him it was not. Perhaps Cornleigh did not appreciate these attentions to her.

“Must be going,” he said, rising. “Have engagements. Miss Goring⁠—feel sure I can rely on you to distribute these [the pictures]⁠—worthy people. Good morning [bowing]⁠—most important, you know⁠—raise aspirations⁠—I⁠—I⁠—ha⁠—hum⁠—” and so exeunt.

Rosa had heard Martial’s speech at the meeting in bitter misery; he was leaving his forefathers’ home for lack of the money which she possessed so abundantly. If only he had loved her! Her love for him rose stronger than ever⁠—in his ruin, and now that he loved another⁠—he was dearer than ever. This noble woman⁠—noble notwithstanding occasional pettiness⁠—resolved that anyway he should be happy; and after a tearful interview with her father, she drove over to the Manor House; thence, as Martial was not at home, she conquered her jealousy, and actually followed him to Beechknoll.

Anyway he should be happy⁠—even with her. With this money he could marry and stay. The sight of Felise almost staggered her, but she was brave. She could not resist delivering that side-thrust, “I hate you!”⁠—still she adhered to her resolution.

By-and-by the constable came back, just to say (and get a glass of ale) that he had seen Mr. Godwin home; he was quite quiet-like now, and had gone up in his room to do some writing. “He will be hisself again tomorrow.”