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very fiercely he suddenly added, "You can prove all this, sir? I hope you can."

      "All this, and more, sir. I suspect, sir, there will hardly be an attempt to deny it."

      "Oh, sir, it's terrible; but I was such a fool. I had no business – I deserve it all. Who'd have imagined such villains? But, d – me, sir, I can't believe it."

      There was a tone of anguish in the old man's voice which made even his grotesque and feeble talk terrible.

      "I say there can't be such devils on earth;" and then he broke into an incoherent story of all his trust and love, and all that Jane owed him, and of her nature which was frank and generous, and how she never hid a thought from him – open as heaven, sir. What business was it of his, d – him! What did he mean by trying to set a man against his wife? No one but a scoundrel ever did it.

      Varbarriere stood erect.

      "You may submit how you like, sir, to your fate; but you shan't insult me, sir, without answering it. My note left it optional to you to exact my information or to remain in the darkness, which it seems you prefer. If you wish it, I'll make my bow – it's nothing to me, but two can play at that game. I've fought perhaps oftener than you, and you shan't bully me."

      "I suppose you're right, sir – don't go, pray – I think I'm half mad, sir," said General Lennox, despairingly.

      "Sir, I make allowance – I forgive your language, but if you want to talk to me, it must be with proper respect. I'm as good a gentleman as you; my statement is, of course, strictly true, and if you please you can test it."

      CHAPTER IX

      Guy Deverell at Slowton

      "Come, sir, I have a right to know it – have you not an object in fooling me?" said General Lennox, relapsing all on a sudden into his ferocious vein.

      "In telling you the truth, sir, I have an object, perhaps – but seeing that it is the truth, and concerns you so nearly, you need not trouble yourself about my object," answered Varbarriere, with more self-command than was to have been expected.

      "I will test it, sir. I will try you," said the General, sternly. "By – I'll sift it to the bottom."

      "So you ought, sir; that's what I mean to help you to," said Varbarriere.

      "How, sir? – say how, and by Heaven, sir, I'll shoot him like a dog."

      "The way to do it I've considered. I shall place you probably in possession of such proof as will thoroughly convince you."

      "Thank you, sir, go on."

      "I shall be at Marlowe to-morrow – you must arrive late – on no account earlier than half-past twelve. I will arrange to have you admitted by the glass door – through the conservatory. Don't bring your vehicle beyond the bridge, and leave your luggage at the Marlowe Arms. The object, sir, is this," said Varbarriere, with deliberate emphasis, observing that the General's grim countenance did not look as apprehensive as he wished, "that your arrival shall be unsuspected. No one must know anything of it except myself and another, until you shall have reached your room. Do you see?"

      "Thanks, sir – yes," answered the General, looking as unsatisfactorily as before.

      "There are two recesses with shelves – one to the right, the other to the left of the bed's head as you look from the door. The secret entrance I have mentioned lies through that at the right. You must not permit any alarm which may be intended to reach Sir Jekyl. Secure the door, and do you sit up and watch. There's a way of securing the secret door from the inside – which I'll explain – that would prevent his entrance – don't allow it. The whole – pardon me, sir —intrigue will in that case be disclosed without the possibility of a prevarication. You have followed me, I hope, distinctly."

      "I – I'm a little flurried, I believe, sir; I have to apologise. I'll ask you, by-and-by, to repeat it. I think I should like to be alone, sir. She wrote me a letter, sir – I wish I had died when I got it."

      When Varbarriere looked at him, he saw that the old East Indian was crying.

      "Sir, I grieve with you," said Varbarriere, funereally. "You can command my presence whenever you please to send for me. I shall remain in this house. It will be absolutely necessary, of course, that you should see me again."

      "Thank you, sir. I know – I'm sure you mean kindly – but God only knows all it is."

      He had shaken his hand very affectionately, without any meaning – without knowing that he had done so.

      Varbarriere said —

      "Don't give way, sir, too much. If there is this sort of misfortune, it is much better discovered —much better. You'll think so just now. You'll view it quite differently in the morning. Call for me the moment you want me – farewell, sir."

      So Varbarriere was conducted to his bed-room, and made, beside his toilet, conscientious inquiries about his late dinner, which was in an advanced state of preparation; and when he went down to partake of it, he had wonderfully recovered the interview with General Lennox. Notwithstanding, however, he drank two glasses of sherry, contrary to gastronomic laws, before beginning. Then, however, he made, even for him, a very good dinner.

      He could not help wondering what a prodigious fuss the poor old fogey made about this little affair. He could not enter the least into his state of mind. She was a fine woman, no doubt; but there were others – no stint – and he had been married quite long enough to sober and acquire an appetite for liberty.

      What was the matter with the old fellow? But that it was insufferably comical, he could almost find it in his heart to pity him.

      Once or twice as he smoked his cigar he could not forbear shaking with laughter, the old Philander's pathetics struck him so sardonically.

      I really think the state of that old gentleman, who certainly had attained to years of philosophy, was rather serious. That is, I dare say that a competent medical man with his case under observation at that moment would have pronounced him on the verge either of a fit or of insanity.

      When Varbarriere had left the room, General Lennox threw himself on the red damask sofa, which smelled powerfully of yesterday's swell bagman's tobacco, never perceiving that stale fragrance, nor the thinness of the cushion which made the ribs and vertebræ of the couch unpleasantly perceptible beneath. Then, with his knees doubled up, and the "Times" newspaper over his face, he wept, and moaned, and uttered such plaintive and hideous maunderings as would do nobody good to hear of.

      A variety of wise impulses visited him. One was to start instantaneously for Marlowe and fight Sir Jekyl that night by candlelight; another, to write to his wife for the last time as his wife – an eternal farewell – which perhaps would have been highly absurd, and affecting at the same time.

      About two hours after Varbarriere's departure for dinner, he sent for that gentleman, and they had another, a longer, and a more collected interview – if not a happier one.

      The result was, that Varbarriere's advice prevailed, as one might easily foresee, having a patient so utterly incompetent to advise himself.

      The attorney, having shaken hands with Monsieur Varbarriere, and watched from the platform the gradual disappearance of the train that carried him from the purlieus of Slowton, with an expression of face plaintive as that with which Dido on the wild sea banks beheld the receding galleys of Æneas, loitered back again dolorously to the hostelry.

      He arrived at the door exactly in time to witness the descent of Guy Deverell from his chaise. I think he would have preferred not meeting him, it would have saved him a few boring questions; but it was by no means a case for concealing himself. He therefore met him with a melancholy frankness on the steps.

      The young man recognised him.

      "Mr. Rumsey? – How do you do? Is my uncle here?"

      "He left by the last train. I hope I see you well, sir."

      "Gone? and where to?"

      "He did not tell me." That was true, but the attorney had seen his valise labelled "Chester" by his

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