“Then it was not Mayne?” cried Mrs John, excitedly.
“No, madam. I knew friend Raydon would be angry, but I was obliged to accept the offer, for I felt that some time or other the people would come, and I argued that the sooner it was all cleared out the better for Raydon’s peace of mind. You knew it must be discovered.”
“Yes; I always knew that; but I wanted to keep away those who came as long as possible.”
“They are going already, and you will soon have your vales in peace again.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” muttered Mr Raydon, beginning to walk up and down the room, while I felt in such a whirl of excitement, as I saw Mrs John’s beautiful, motherly eyes fixed lovingly on mine, and felt Mr John snatch my hand and press it, and then give vent to his delight at the clearing up by slapping me heavily on the shoulder, that I could not see Mr Raydon’s puckered brow. What I did see was the bear’s head looking down at me, showing its grinning teeth as if it were laughing and pleased, and the moose staring at me with its mournful aspect less marked. All nonsense this, I know, but there was a feeling of joy within me that filled me with exultation.
The silence was almost painful at last, and the tension grew to such an extent that I felt at last that I must run out and tell Esau I had misjudged him, as I had been misjudged, when Mr Raydon stopped before me and said softly—
“You remember your Latin, Mayne?”
“A little, sir,” I said, wondering at his words.
“Humanum est curare. You know that?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, huskily; “but please don’t say any more.”