Gerald went out and drew a deep breath when he reached the landing. He felt shaky and ashamed, but knew he had won. The shutting of the door gave Osborn some relief. The anger and disgust Gerald excited had confused his brain, but now the lad had gone he saw no light. There was but one way of escape, and this a way it was almost unthinkable that he should take. The strange thing was he should hate it so much, for he had never indulged his children or thought about their happiness. Yet he shrank from forcing his daughter to marry Thorn, whom he approved while she did not.
He might, perhaps, for the girl's sake, have sacrificed his pride; but there was an obstacle before which his courage melted. If Thorn did not help, Askew would know his disgrace and Osborn did not expect him to be merciful. His rancor against Askew had by degrees become a blind, illogical hate that made it impossible for him to see anything Kit did in its proper light. Feeling as he did, he imagined Kit would rejoice in the opportunity for humbling him.
All the same, knowing the fight was hopeless, he struggled against the conviction that he must beg help from Thorn. In many ways, he liked Alan, but he was hard and Osborn dreaded his firmness now. Yet he could help and there was nobody else. It got dark, but Osborn did not move. A faint breeze came up and moaned about the house, and presently a moonbeam stole into the room. Osborn sat still, with his head bent and his arms spread out across the table. Sometimes he burned with anger against Gerald and sometimes he scarcely felt anything at all.
At length, he got up, and with an effort went upstairs. Half an hour later, a heavy sleep that came as a reaction after the shock closed his eyes and banished his troubles for a time.
CHAPTER VIII
GRACE'S CONFIDENCE
On the day after Gerald's return Osborn shut himself up in his library. If he could raise two thousand pounds, it would save him from agreeing to the demand Thorn would, no doubt, make, and although he really knew the thing was impossible, he sought desperately for a way of escape. He was careless about money, and, for the most part, left his business to his agent, but he wanted to find out how he stood before he went to Hayes. There was no obvious reason for his doing so, but he had begun to suspect that Hayes was not as devoted to his interests as he had thought. His wife and Grace distrusted the fellow, and although they knew nothing about business, Osborn admitted that the advice they had sometimes given him had been sound.
The involved calculations he made gave him fresh ground for disturbance. It was plain that he could borrow no more money and the sum he had received for the last mortgage had nearly gone. He might perhaps get together three or four hundred pounds, at the risk of letting builders and drainers go unpaid, but this was not enough. After a time, he put away his books in a fit of hopeless anger and drove across to see Hayes at the market town.
The interview was short and disappointing. Osborn could not tell Hayes why he needed money and found him unusually firm. He proved that the estate was heavily overburdened, fresh loans were impossible, and stern economy must be used if it was to be saved from bankruptcy. To some extent, Osborn had expected this, but had cherished a faint hope that Hayes might lend him enough to satisfy Gerald's creditor. He could not force himself to ask for a loan outright, and Hayes had been strangely dull about his cautious hints. Osborn believed the fellow could have helped him, but as he had shown no wish to do so there was nothing to be said. He drove home in a downcast mood and sent for Gerald.
"I can't get the money," he said. "You know the man you dealt with. Is there any hope of his renewing the bill?"