"And you shall have it. Give me your story, and then I shall see what can be done. I hope to goodness you haven't killed anybody."
"Not exactly killed with my hands, though perhaps I have with my heart, which is just as bad, according to Scripture."
As briefly and as concisely as possible Douglas related his experiences at Rixton. He told about his work on the farm, his conflict with the Stubbles, the sorrow of the shoemaker and his wife over their daughter, of Mrs. Dempster and Empty, and the professor and his daughters. He was as cautious as possible when speaking about Nell, and from his words the lawyer received not the slightest idea of his love for her.
Douglas told his story well, and before he was through Garton was pacing up and down the study. He was unusually excited and at times he found it difficult to restrain his feelings.
"Good heavens, man!" he exclaimed when Douglas had finished, "you've been having a wild west show up there. You might have called upon your neighbours to see the fun."
"I am calling upon one now to see the finish," was the laconic reply. "If he doesn't take a hand in the matter at once there'll soon be a finish to the chief actor. You can't do anything when British justice is perverted through cowardice and partiality. Simon Stubbles rules the parish, and will continue to rule it in his own way unless he is checked."
"And checked he shall be," Garton emphatically replied, bringing his fist down hard upon the study table. "I am glad you have come to see me to-night, for your story has solved a problem which has been perplexing me all day. Simon Stubbles is on the rocks and has appealed to me for help."
"On the rocks!" Douglas vaguely repeated.
"Yes, on the rocks. He is financially embarrassed, and has signalled to me for assistance."
"That's news to me. I thought he was very wealthy."