“He will that, sir. You may depend upon it. And no doubt he will have the old church repaired. And you’ll do your part to welcome the bridal pair. You’ll have the parish school children drilled to stand aich side the road by which they come and sing songs and throw flowers? And you’ll have the bellringers to ring out joyful peals of music?”
“Oh, yes, certainly, with all my heart. It falls in the way of my office to see that the parish school children and the bellringers take their part and do their duties properly in the ceremonial reception of the bridal couple,” cordially responded Mr. Campbell.
No more was said just then.
Jennie was aghast. She had not thought that Kightly Montgomery would bring his deceived bride, who was not a lawful wife, to England so soon after his rencontre with herself on shipboard. When he had left the steamer at Queenstown, to avoid meeting her father at Liverpool, she had supposed that he would go to the continent for his bridal tour, and return later to England. But instead of doing so he had written a letter from Queenstown, on the morning of his arrival there, to announce his intention of coming to Haymore. This letter he must have posted on the same morning, so that it came over land and sea by the shorter route of the Irish mail, and reached its destination at Haymore before she, by the longer way of the channel, arrived at Liverpool. But why did he think of coming to Haymore at this time?
A little reflection told her why. She tried to put herself in Kightly Montgomery’s place and think out his motives. Then she understood.
Kightly Montgomery knew certainly that Jennie had gone home to her father’s, but he believed, erroneously, that she had gone to him in his old parish at Medge, in Hantz, where the curate had lived and preached for twenty years past, and where he was likely to continue to minister for forty years to come.
Nearly the whole length of England lay between Medge, on the south coast of Hantz, and Haymore, in the North Riding of Yorkshire. He might, therefore, go safely to his manor house without fear of being troubled by Jennie or her people. He could not dream, of course, that the Rev. James Campbell had left Medge to become the pastor of the parish of Haymore, where his daughter would be with him; else he would as soon have rushed into a burning furnace as to come to Yorkshire.
So far Jennie reasoned out correctly the meaning of Kightly Montgomery’s course. But there was more cause for his false sense of security than she knew anything about.
Kightly Montgomery had not the least idea that Jennie, by putting odds and ends of facts and probabilities together, had made herself acquainted with his fraudulent claim to the name of Hay, and to the inheritance of Haymore. He thought she knew nothing beyond the fact of his second marriage, not even the name under which he married, and that, therefore, she could not know how or where to seek him, even if she were disposed to do so, which he utterly disbelieved. With his wronged wife at the extreme south of England, and in ignorance of his present name and residence, he felt perfectly safe in coming to Haymore in the north, to gratify his pride and vanity by a triumphant entry, with his queenly and beautiful bride, into the village and on to the manor house.
He little dreamed of the dread Nemesis awaiting him there.