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 passed 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 circumstances,” 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 Grassford, 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 assure 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?”
“No, sir, thank you,” replied Austin, gasping for breath.
“Since you have admitted that Joseph Rushbrook is your son, Mr Austin,” continued McShane, “your own flesh and blood, may I inquire of you what you intend to do in his behalf? Do you intend to allow the law to take its course, and your son to be banished for life?”
“What can I do, gentlemen? He has been tried and condemned: of course if any exertion on my part can avail—but I fear that there is no chance of that.”
“Mr Austin, if he were guilty I should not have interfered; but, in my opinion, he is innocent; do you not think so?”
“I do not believe, sir, that he ever would have done such a deed; but that avails nothing, he is condemned.”
“I grant it, unless the real murderer of the pedlar could be brought forward.”
“Y–e–s,” replied Austin, trembling.
“Shall I denounce him, Mr Austin?”
“Do you know him?” replied Austin, starting on his feet.
“Yes, Rushbrook,” replied McShane, in a voice of thunder, “I do know him,—’tis yourself!”
Austin could bear up no longer, he fell down on the floor as if he had been shot. O’Donahue and McShane went to his assistance; they raised him up, but he was insensible; they then rang the bell for assistance, the servant came in, medical advice was sent for, and McShane and O’Donahue, perceiving there was no chance of prosecuting their intentions, in Mr Austin’s present state, quitted the Hall just as the chaise with Mrs Austin and Mary drove up to the door.