"Oh, I dare say it is that old woman, Brown," said Mr. Carr, "who says always there was five shillings owing to her son who died. Tell her it is no such thing, and that she had better go away, or I will send for a constable."
"It isn't Goody Brown, at all," answered the woman, in a tone of very little reverence for her master--"she told me something about her name, but I forget what it was."
"Go, and ask it--go, and ask it, then!" said Mr. Carr; and he was about to recommence his argument with Helen during the girl's absence; but she was not away more than a minute, and returned with a vastly indignant air, saying--"The saucy old thing says she must and will see you directly--that her name is Jane More, widow of Sergeant More; and she will take no refusal."
Mr. Carr turned as pale as death, pressed his hand upon his heart, and sunk into a chair.
"You are not well," cried Juliet, starting up. "Let me go and speak to her, sir."
"No, no, no!" cried N. Carr, eagerly--"on no account. Take her into my little room, Sally. Some one give me a spoonful of brandy. Tell her I am not well, or I would have spoken to her at once, but I will come directly."
CHAPTER XXXIX.
As soon as Mr. Carr had left the room, Helen Barham turned towards the place where her brother had been standing the moment before--not, indeed, to ask his advice as to her future proceedings, for, alas, she did not respect that brother sufficiently to trust in any of his counsels!--but with the sort of enquiring look which nature has taught us to direct towards any one nearly allied to us, in circumstances of difficulty or danger. To her surprise, however, William Barham was no longer there; and Juliet informed her that her brother had quitted the room as soon as Mr. Carr began to speak of the robbery. "Indeed," she added, with a smile, and little thinking her words would give pain, "I perceive that he always does so."
Helen Barham looked down, for the knowledge which she possessed of her brother's former course of life produced some apprehension lest William himself might be by some means implicated in the terrible transaction which was about to undergo the investigation of the law. When she recollected the conduct and the words of Harry Martin, too, the probability seemed so great, that she actually trembled at the thought of what might be the consequence; and the difficulties of her own situation became aggravated a thousand fold by fears for her brother.
Juliet remarked her agitation, perhaps with some surprise, but she made no observation, and Helen, as soon as she had recovered herself, left the room, saying, that she wished to speak with William for a few moments. She found him in the room to which she was directed by one of the servants of the house, busily engaged in packing up a portmanteau. He was looking extremely pale, and in answer to Helen's enquiries, said that he intended to go back to London the next day. He made some excuse for this sudden determination, which Helen did not clearly understand, alleging that it was necessary he should see "the lawyer;" but his sister could draw no farther information from him, and, indeed, he appeared anxious to free himself from her presence. She remained for some time, however, trying to soothe him, and endeavouring to call up some better feelings in his heart; but she found that her efforts were spent in vain, and with sorrow of various kinds in her bosom, she returned to the room where she had left Juliet.