"Better opinion!" interrupted the old man, with a taunting sneer. "Yes—right—husband murdered—lawyer threatening—abandoned in trouble—sinking in poverty—eat up with pride—idle boy—saucy sailor—fellow-creatures indeed!"
At this moment Ben entered, and though deference and respect for his mistress kept him silent, yet the clenching of his fist and the indignation of his look plainly evidenced that he would, if he durst, have given Mr. Unity Peach a thrashing. Nor did the old man seem insensible to what was passing in the worthy seaman's mind, for he turned upon him a glance of contempt and defiance that but ill accorded with the angular inclination of his body, which betokened weakness and decrepitude.
Mrs. Heartwell, endeavouring to suppress her agitation, turned with a look of inquiry to Ben.
"Why, my lady, I don't perticklarly want anything," replied the seaman somewhat confusedly, as he fidgetted about the room in his accustomed way when he had any communication of importance to make.
"Has anything occurred?" asked the lady with impatience.
"Bless you, my lady," ejaculated Ben, whilst a flush spread over his cheeks, and a tear stood trembling in his eye; "I ounly wish I was rouling in gould and I'd soon capsize the lubbers; but ounly speak the word and I'll do it now, though the unconscionable scamps have boarded us in the smoke."
"Of whom are you speaking?" demanded Mrs. Heartwell, as a thrill of sickly apprehension passed through her heart. But the seaman had not time to answer before the door of the room was opened, and in walked a corpulent but athletic man, whose very appearance announced his calling to be that of a sheriff's officer; whilst close behind him came his assistant, though he did not venture beyond the door-way. "Werry sorry, ma'am—werry sorry," said the officer, producing a writ of execution, "I al'ays likes to be civil to ladies, but must do my dooty you know—mustn't I, sir?" and he turned to Mr. Unity Peach, who, bent down and leaning heavily on his stick, which he seemed to grasp convulsively, nodded assent.
"What is all this?" demanded Mrs. Heartwell, looking first at the officer and then at Mr. Peach, and then at Ben, who, though it was the height of summer, had got hold of the poker, and was busily stirring the white paper shavings that ornamented the grate.
"Oh, it's not werry much, ma'am," replied the officer, displaying the official document; "it's only a writ as I've got to sarve, and in course must trespass upon your family for board and lodging till the matter's settled—that's all."