"I hardly like taking thee out this wet day,Phineas--but it is a comfort to have thee."Perhaps it was,for John was bent on a trying errand.He was going to communicate to Mr.Brithwood of the Mythe,Ursula's legal guardian and trustee,the fact that she had promised him her hand--him,John Halifax,the tanner.He did it--nay,insisted upon doing it--the day after he came of age,and just one week after they had been betrothed--this nineteenth of June,one thousand eight hundred and one.
We reached the iron gate of the Mythe House;--John hesitated a minute,and then pulled the bell with a resolute hand.
"Do you remember the last time we stood here,John?I do,well!"But soon the happy smile faded from his lips,and left them pressed together in a firm,almost painful gravity.He was not only a lover but a man.And no man could go to meet what he knew he must meet in this house,and on this errand,altogether unmoved.One might foresee a good deal--even in the knowing side-glance of the servant,whom he startled with his name,"Mr.Halifax.""Mr.Brithwood's busy,sir--better come to-morrow,"suggested the man--evidently knowing enough upon his master's affairs.
"I am sorry to trouble him--but I must see Mr.Brithwood to-day."And John determinedly followed the man into the grand empty dining-room,where,on crimson velvet chairs,we sat and contemplated the great stag's head with its branching horns,the silver flagons and tankards,and the throstles hopping outside across the rainy lawn:at our full leisure,too,for the space of fifteen minutes.
"This will not do,"said John--quietly enough,though this time it was with a less steady hand that he pulled the bell.
"Did you tell your master I was here?"
"Yes,sir."And the grin with which the footman came in somehow slid away from his mouth's corners.
"How soon may I have the honour of seeing him?""He says,sir,you must send up your business by me."John paused,evidently subduing something within him--something unworthy of Ursula's lover--of Ursula's husband that was to be.
"Tell your master my business is solely with himself,and I must request to see him.It is important,say,or I would not thus intrude upon his time.""Very well,sir."
Ere long,the man brought word that Mr.Brithwood would be at liberty,for five minutes only,in the justice-room.We were led out,crossing the court-yard once more--where,just riding out,I saw two ladies,one of whom kissed her hand gaily to John Halifax--to the magistrate's office.There,safely separated from his own noble mansion,Mr.Brithwood administered justice.In the outer room a stout young fellow--a poacher,probably--sat heavily ironed,sullen and fierce;and by the door a girl with a child in her arms,and--God pity her!--no ring on her finger,stood crying;another ill-looking fellow,maudlin drunk,with a constable by him,called out to us as we passed for "a drop o'beer."These were the people whom Richard Brithwood,Esquire,magistrate for the county of --,had to judge and punish,according to his own sense of equity and his knowledge of his country's law.
He sat behind his office-table,thoroughly magisterial,dictating so energetically to his clerk behind him,that we had both entered,and John had crossed the room,before he saw us,or seemed to see.
"Mr.Brithwood."
"Oh--Mr.Halifax.Good-morning."
John returned the salutation,which was evidently meant to show that the giver bore no grudge;that,indeed,it was impossible so dignified a personage as Richard Brithwood,Esquire,in his public capacity,too,could bear a grudge against so inferior an individual as John Halifax.
"I should be glad,sir,of a few minutes'speech with you.""Certainly--certainly;speak on;"and he lent a magisterial ear.
"Excuse me,my business is private,"said John,looking at the clerk.
"No business is private here,"returned the 'squire,haughtily.
"Then shall I speak with you elsewhere?But I must have the honour of an interview with you,and immediately."Whether Mr.Brithwood was seized with some indefinite alarm,he himself best knew why,or whether John's manner irresistibly compelled him to civility,as the stronger always compels the weaker,I cannot tell--but he signed to the clerk to leave the room.
"And,Jones,send back all the others to the lock-up house till tomorrow.Bless my life!it's near three o'clock.They can't expect to keep a gentleman's dinner waiting--these low fellows."I suppose this referred only to the culprits outside;at all events,we chose to take it so.
"Now--you,sir--perhaps you'll despatch your business;the sooner the better.""It will not take long.It is a mere matter of form,which nevertheless I felt it my duty to be the first to inform you.Mr.
Brithwood,I have the honour of bearing a message to you from your cousin--Miss Ursula March.""She's nothing to me--I never wish to see her face again,the--the vixen!""You will be kind enough,if you please,to avoid all such epithets;at least,in my hearing."
"Your hearing!And pray who are you,sir?"
"You know quite well who I am."
"Oh,yes!And how goes the tanning?Any offers in the horseflesh line?Always happy to meet you in the way of business.But what can you possibly have to do with me,or with any member of my family?"John bit his lip;the 'squire's manner was extremely galling;more so,perhaps,in its outside civility than any gross rudeness.
"Mr.Brithwood,I was not speaking of myself,but of the lady whose message I have the honour to bring you.""That lady,sir,has chosen to put herself away from her family,and her family can hold no further intercourse with her,"said the 'squire,loftily.
"I am aware of that,"was the reply,with at least equal hauteur.
