“He ain’t sound, that man,” he declared. “He wants to run with the hare and hunt with the hounds. You don’t know where to have him in argument, the truth being he ain’t much in earnest about anything in my opinion.”
But Tom Dolbear modified this view before many days were passed. Indeed, had he listened to the conversation then proceeding between Philander and Mr. Dingle, he must have found himself confronted sharply and painfully with mistaken judgment; and Mr. Knox himself did not guess at the important events destined to fall out before he slept that night. That certain things were presently to happen; that he would pluck his own occasions out of them and win a reward worthy of all his pains, he believed; but he did not know how near these things might be. Nor did he imagine how swiftly his own particular problems were destined to be solved. Now Medora’s husband played into his hand with unexpected perception.
They spoke first concerning the lecture, and Ned heard without enthusiasm of its success.
“No doubt the only thing that concerns you is why your wife went,” said Knox, “and I may tell you she went because she’d promised to go. It bored her stiff, same as it did Mrs. Trivett. They’ve got no use for the new paths, and Medora’s just as much of a Tory at heart as you or her mother, though she wouldn’t own to it. That’s all over, any way. They’ve parted in a dignified fashion, and I’ve done the best day’s work I ever have done in helping you to see the peculiar circumstances and putting the truth before you. Not that even my great efforts would have saved the situation if you hadn’t believed me; but that was your stronghold: you knew I was telling truth. In fact, it’s one of those cases where knowledge of the truth has helped the parties through the storm, and I’ll be thankful to my dying day you was large-minded enough to receive and accept it. It was a great compliment to me that you could trust me, and a great advertisement to your brain power.”
“It’s all your work and I don’t deny you the praise,” answered Ned. “Of course, if things had been otherwise from what they are, nothing would have come of it; but as the facts are what we understand, then I’m half in a mind to take Medora back. I dare say the people will think I’m a silly, knock-kneed fool to do so; but those who know the truth would not. There’s only one thing will prevent me, and that’s the woman herself. I’ll see her presently, and if she comes out of it in a decent spirit, then what I say may happen. But if there’s a shadow of doubt about it in her mind, then we’ll stop as we are. It pretty much depends upon her now.”
“In that case I congratulate you, because her spirit is contrite to the dust, and never, if she lives to be a hundred, will she fail of her duty again. She’ll be a pattern to every married woman on earth for the rest of her life, no doubt. The highest and best she prays for is to be forgiven by you; but she don’t dare to hope even that; and if she found she was more than forgiven, then her gratitude would rise to amazing heights, no doubt.”
“Well it might,” declared Dingle, and the other spoke again.
“Yes; and none better pleased than me; but though I hadn’t thought we’d got nearly so far as this yet awhile, now I see that we have, I must speak a word more, Ned. What I’m going to say now is a terrible delicate thing; and yet, late though the hour is, this is the appointed time. Give me a spot of whiskey and switch off from yourself to me for five minutes.”
“I was coming to you. I’m not blind, and I see very clearly what I owe you in this matter. You’ve took a deal of trouble, and I’m grateful, Knox, and so will everybody else be when they understand.”
“I’m very glad you feel it so,” answered Philander, “because it’s true. I have took a lot of trouble, Ned, and I’ve spared no pains to bring this about, because well I knew from my experience of life that it was the best that could possibly happen for all concerned. And once convinced them two were innocent as babes, I set myself to save the situation, as they say. And I’ve helped you to do so; and it ain’t a figure of speech to say I’m well paid by results. But that’s not all there is to it. There was something up my sleeve too. I had another iron in the fire for myself. In a word, you can pay me handsome for all my trouble if you’ll recognise that and lend me a hand in a certain quarter. Need I say what quarter? As you know, Mrs. Trivett’s very much addicted to me, and she’d marry me to-morrow if a mistaken call of duty didn’t keep her in that breeding pen known as Priory Farm. Well, I put it to you whether you won’t help me same as I helped you. One good turn deserves another—eh?”