"I don't somehow think him and his partners are on the best of terms together—but that's no business o' mine, you know, sir! And now, sir, excuse me, but we must be jogging."
"But, my friend, is there really no way," inquired Mr. Aubrey, with manifest perturbation, "by which I can delay accompanying you for a few hours"——
"Oh can't, sir—unpossible!"
"You can remain in possession here—I will be in your custody—I have a little plate, books, and furniture, which would surely stand sufficient security"——
"It 's no use, sir; go you must—and that without much longer shilly-shallying. It's no use!"
Aubrey seemed for a moment overpowered by his emotions.
"I fear, myself, that there is no alternative," said he; "but it will almost break the hearts of those ladies—one of whom is my wife"——His voice faltered.
"You take my advice, sir! Let my man start off for a coach—you have a shirt or two put up, and an amusing book—or a bit of a cribbage-board, or a pack of cards, if they're at hand—and give 'em the slip; if you'll believe me, sir, it 's much the best way; and when you're once out o' the house, they'll come to, and make up their minds to it—never fear 'em."
"Send, then, for a coach—delay, I see, is worse than useless," said he, hastily, hearing steps approaching the study door, which was thrust open, and Mrs. Aubrey and Miss Aubrey entered, unable any longer to endure his absence—and as if fearful lest, in mercy to them, he should be contriving to leave them secretly. Grab, having despatched his follower for a coach, at Mr. Aubrey's earnest request to be left alone for a few minutes, withdrew—but first cast a keen scrutinizing eye at the window—and then the chimney—and then, having closed the door, stood outside, in a position which commanded both door and window.
"Now, my own Agnes! my sweet Kate!" commenced Aubrey, in a low, earnest tone, having bolted the door to secure themselves from interruption during the few precious moments which remained to them before the arrival of the coach—"I must, within a very few minutes, leave you! Remember—remember, loves!—I am unfortunate, but, I am not disgraced!—I look on this as a dispensation of Providence—an infinitely wise, and good Providence; let us all learn submission, and resignation! Whether or not we are really the victims of treachery and hypocrisy, I am unable at present to tell; but let us learn to bear this last crowning indignity with the fortitude of Christians!—relying on it, that God will overrule the most trying and disastrous events for our eventual good! Kneel down! Let us bow before the throne of Heaven, and supplicate its blessing and support, in this our greatest extremity!" He said this calmly; but his face was deadly pale, and his voice faltered—while they clung round him and heaved convulsive sobs, as, half unconsciously, they sank on their knees with him. Then they rose—and certainly a gracious Providence had not listened in vain to the earnest, heartfelt cries uttered by those persecuted and heart-broken beings; for they felt a sense of composure stealing over their troubled bosoms—as if they had seen for a moment a bright light glancing through the gloom of their sorrows. Yet poor nature was wrung—wrung indeed! Mr. Aubrey proceeded to make some little preparations for his departure—putting a five-pound note into his pocket—and leaving but little more behind him; and the servant being summoned into the room, was despatched to put up a change of linen for him. He then implored and conjured them, as they loved him, to struggle against their feelings;—and to rely upon his pledge to send them, within two hours at the furthest, intelligence of his movements—assuring them of his confident belief, that in less than twenty-four hours he should have returned to them. While he was speaking in this strain, Mrs. Aubrey suddenly quitted the room, and after a moment's absence returned, her pallid, agitated countenance overspread with a wild smile of delight, as she exclaimed breathlessly—"There, love! Dearest Charles! He says there is no harm in the world in my going with you in the coach—and, indeed, we may have rooms to ourselves!"