Mr. Menifee, the old minister, was shown in. "Ah, good evening," McElwin cried, starting toward him, but then remembering his dignity he said: "You are always welcome. Sit down."
The old gentleman bowed to the ladies and took the easy chair which the banker shoved toward him. McElwin turned to the window and stood there, looking out, listening, with no ear for the solicitous common-places concerning the health of his household, indulged by the old gentleman. He glanced at the clock on the mantel, and was surprised to find that the hour was no later. He turned to the preacher.
"You can do me a service, Mr. Menifee; you can quiet the fears of my wife and daughter while I go down town. I have a most important matter of business on hand but they don't want me to go. Why," he added, with a dry laugh, "what is it to go down town at half past nine?"
"What, is it that late?" the old gentleman spoke up. "Why, I am getting to be a late prowler. But if you have an important matter to attend to, surely you ought to do it."
"I rarely ever go down town at night," said the banker; "that is the reason of their uneasiness. Yes, the only cause, I assure you."
He passed out into the hall, his wife following him. He took an umbrella from the rack, and preparing to hoist it, stepped out upon the veranda. His wife spoke to him and he started as if he had not noticed her. "James," she said, "something is wrong and you are deceiving me."
"Nothing at all, my dear," he replied, hoisting the umbrella. "The truth is, I want to see Sawyer."
"In relation to Mr. Lyman?" she asked, putting her hand on his arm to detain him.
"Well, yes, indirectly. The truth is, I authorized Zeb to offer him a sum of money to go away—quite too much I am sure—and I want to ask him to withdraw the offer. I can't afford to invest that much ready money at present, I really cannot."
"If you have been afraid that he will accept the offer—"