“Remember, all is off between you, at all events for a time. That she likes you, has not ceased to like you, I am convinced. In her present trouble the sight of you would but increase her distress. There is something behind all this’something of mystery, which I do not fathom. Kitty cannot justify herself; not that she is guilty, that neither you nor I credit. There is something that ties her tongue. She is, perhaps, afraid of compromising another, and who that is I do not know.”
“I believe,” said Walter impetuously, “that this is a wicked conspiracy against Kitty. Mr. Pepperill, to clear himself of the suspicion that he caused the burning down of his stores, painfully laboured to spread the report that Kitty had done it, and done it out of revenge because he refused to allow of my suit. And now he has contrived, by some means or other, to get his rick fired’which is not insured’in such a manner as to make it appear that Kitty, and Kitty alone, could have done it. It is a vile plot to ruin her, and she is innocent as a lamb.”
“That she is innocent I am assured,” said the rector. “How this last fire has come about I cannot even venture to guess. The material for forming an opinion is not to hand. Till Kitty speaks we probably shall not know, and I do not know what will induce her to speak. Of one thing be confident, Walter: whatever Kitty believes is right, that she will do. I would not urge her to speak, because her sense of duty, her conscience, tells her to be silent. I have that perfect, unshaken trust in her, that I simply leave matters alone, and all I seek is to relieve her of unnecessary trial.”
“I am a poor man,” said Bramber, “but I will give every penny I have,’I will sell my books, ay, and my violin, to secure the best counsel for her defence, if it comes to that.”
“You need not trouble yourself on that score,” said Mr. Fielding, with a smile. “Kitty has other friends besides you. There is her aunt, who loves her, and there is her pastor, who watches over her with much care.”
Bramber moved in restless unhappiness. The rector saw how wretched the young man was, and he said gently, “Bramber, do you not see that the case is taken almost completely out of our hands?”
“I suppose it is’to some extent.”
“Almost entirely. I will not urge Kitty to say what she thinks should be withheld. There is but one thing you and I can do, and that is what I shall advise Kitty, before she goes to bed, that which will be better than any sleeping draught, that which alone will strengthen her to bear what is to come, that will cool the fevered heart, and calm the working brain.”
“What is that? I have tried my violin’music will not ease my mind.”
“No, it is something else. A prescription I had long ago from a Great Physician: one I have often tried, and never found to fail.”