‘Surely you despise him too much to notice him. Is not the best punishment for him his own conscience and your silent contempt?’
‘No,’ cried the old man, suddenly starting up. ‘No, I will never let him go free! After all these years of labour and sleepless watching, shall I take my hands! off his throat now? You don’t know what you ask, Juana. But you were always against me, Juana, ever since you were a little child—you who bear your mother’s name, too!’
‘Nay, father,’ said Juana; ‘I admire your defence of my mother. I love you for it. I think you are the noblest man alive. But you will be nobler if you let this man go free. He is beneath your notice.’
‘Never!’ repeated the old man, and walked quickly out of the orchard.
The three young people, left together, scarcely knew what to say to each other. The girls were, very naturally, excited and perturbed by the recital to which they had just listened. As for Richard, he was still in a state of suspense, of apprehension, almost of fear. To him the very atmosphere of Queen’s Farm seemed to be charged with the messages of fate. Raphael Craig’s profound self-satisfaction struck Richard as quite child-like. Did this man, so experienced in the world, really think that Simon Lock would quietly allow himself to be ruined? Did he really think that the struggle was over? And if, on the other hand, he thought that Simon Lock would procure his arrest, was he actually prepared to go to prison, and to die there? Richard pictured Simon Lock as planning all sorts of deep-laid schemes against Raphael Craig. He felt that Simon Lock would never be ‘at the end of his tether,’ as the old man had termed it, until Simon Lock was dead. He felt just a little bit for Simon Lock on account of the humiliations which that proud personage had been made to suffer that morning, and he felt so, despite his detestation of Lock’s past career and of his general methods. He found it impossible to get very angry about a sin committed twenty years ago.
That night Nolan, the detective, though better than on the previous day, was suffering from a slight temporary relapse. Richard volunteered to sit up with him, as the man could only sleep at intervals. Both Bridget and Juana were exhausted with the nursing, and Juana would not hear of Teresa sitting up. So it came about that Richard insisted on performing the duty himself.
It was a warm summer night, rather too warm for comfort, and for a little space the two men talked on miscellaneous subjects. Then Nolan asked for something to drink, and having drunk, went off into a sound sleep. So far as Richard could see, the patient was better again. Richard occupied an easy-chair by the window. There was twilight all through the night. For a long time Richard gazed idly out of the window into the western arch of the sky. As hour after hour passed the temperature grew chilly. He closed the window. Nolan still slept peacefully. Richard drew down the blind, and said to himself that he would have a doze in the easy-chair.
The next thing of which he was conscious was a knocking at the door.
‘Yes, yes,’ he answered sleepily, and Mrs. Bridget burst in.
‘Mr. Redgrave!’ she cried, ‘an’ have ye heard nothing? Surely the ould master’s not in his bed, and something’s happened. May the Virgin protect us all this night?’