"Why—how horrid is my position!" he presently exclaimed to himself! "Ten thousand pounds and upwards, must either I pay, or Lord De la Zouch for me, within a few months;—here is a second ten thousand pounds, with nearly five hundred pounds of interest; I have been to-day arrested for nearly fifteen hundred pounds; and this man Titmouse holds my bond for two thousand pounds more, and interest! Is it, then, Thy will, O God! that I am to sink beneath my troubles? Am I to perish from Thy sight? To be crushed beneath Thy displeasure?—Or merciful Father!—wilt Thou save me, when there is none other to help?"
Calmness seemed stealing insensibly over his troubled spirits; his agitated feelings sank gradually into an indescribable and wonderful repose; in that dismal moment of extreme suffering, his soul became blessedly sensible of its relationship to God;—that he was not the miserable victim of chance—as the busy spirit of darkness incessantly whispered in his ear—but in the hands of the Father of the spirits of all flesh, who listened, in his behalf, to the pleading of One touched with the feeling of our infirmities—who was in all points tempted, even as we are. His fainting soul felt sustained by the grace for which it had sought; the oil and balm of a sound scriptural consolation were poured into his wounds. Before his quickened eye arose many bright figures of those who had gloriously overcome the fiercest assaults of the Evil One, resisting even unto death:—he felt for a moment compassed about by a great cloud of witnesses to the mercy and goodness of God. Oh, in that moment, how, wonderfully little seemed the sorrows which had before appeared so great! He felt, in a manner, at once humbled and exalted. Invisible support clung to his confident soul—as if he were surrounded by the arm of Him who will not suffer us to be tempted above what we are able; but will, with the temptation, also make a way to escape, that we may be able to bear it. He sank silently upon his knees; and with clasped hands, and his face raised towards heaven, with profound contrition of spirit, yet with firm faith, besought the mercy which God has promised to those who thus will ask for it. Thus occupied, he did not perceive the door gently opened, and by Mrs. Aubrey—who, closing it hastily after her, flung her arm round his neck, sinking down beside him, and in a low, fond voice, exclaimed—"Oh, my own love! My own Charles! My poor, oppressed, persecuted, heart-broken husband! Pray for me—me also!" He gently returned her embrace, looking at her unutterable things; and after they had remained thus for a few moments, they arose. He gazed at her with unspeakable tenderness, and a countenance full of serenity and resignation. He gently soothed her agitated feelings, and succeeded in communicating to her a measure of the composure which he experienced himself. Before they had quitted that little room, he had even apprised her faithfully of the peril which momentarily menaced them; and again the cold waters gushed over her soul. At length, however, she had recovered her self-possession sufficiently to return to the room she had quitted, and instantly blanched Miss Aubrey's cheek by communicating the new terrors which threatened them.
Just as they were finishing dinner—a mere mockery, however, of a meal—a double knock at the door occasioned them all not a little agitation; but, as the event proved, needlessly, since it announced the arrival of only their kind, experienced friend, Mr. Runnington—who evidently felt infinitely relieved at finding that Mrs. Aubrey and Miss Aubrey had been made acquainted by Mr. Aubrey with the additional source of apprehension afforded by the report of the preceding day's doings in the King's Bench. Mr. Runnington felt assured that within twenty-four hours' time, proceedings would be taken against Mr. Aubrey; whom, however, he reminded, that as in the former, so in the anticipated case, the extent of his immediate anxiety would be the finding bail for so very serious an amount; but that difficulty surmounted, he would be safe from personal annoyance and apprehension till the ensuing November. Mr. Aubrey then apprised Mr. Runnington of the death of Lady Stratton, and the grievous events connected with it, amid the tears and sobs of Mrs. Aubrey and Kate. Though he said but little, his countenance showed how much he was shocked by the intelligence. "Never in my experience," at length he observed, "a thirty-six years' experience in the profession, have I heard of, or met with, such a case of complicated misfortune as yours! 'But it is,' as the old proverb has it, 'a long lane that has no turning.' We must trust, my dear sir, to the chapter of accidents."
"Oh, Mr. Runnington!" interrupted Aubrey, with animation, "there is no such thing!—It is the order of Providence!"
They then entered into a long conversation; in the course of which—"If our fears—our worst fears—be confirmed," observed Runnington, "and they venture to put in suit these two notes—then they will have thrown down the gauntlet. I'll take it up—and there's no knowing what may happen when we come to close quarters. First and foremost, I'll tax away every farthing of the alleged 'balance' of their monstrous bill—ay, I'll stake my reputation on it, that I leave them not a shilling; but, on the contrary, prove that you have already greatly overpaid them."
"Alas! have I not, however, pledged myself to Mr. Gammon not to do so?" interrupted Aubrey.
"Pshaw!—Forgive me, but this is absurd. Indeed, Mr. Aubrey, it is really out-heroding Herod! All is fair against adversaries such as these! Besides, if you must be so scrupulous and fastidious—and I honor you for it—there's another way of putting it, which I fancy settles the matter. By Mr. Titmouse putting these bills in suit, Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap's promise to you is not performed—it is broken; and so there is an end of yours, which is dependent upon the performance of theirs."
"That is only on the supposition that they are playing me false—whereas the proceedings yesterday in court, especially when coupled with Mr. Gammon's letters to me"——
"All hollow! hollow!" replied Mr. Runnington, shaking his head.—"False and hypocritical! Who could trust to Gammon? This fellow Titmouse, whom they are doubtless fleecing daily, is, in all probability, desperately driven for ready money; and they have allowed him to get hold of these two bills, after a sham resistance on the part of Gammon, in order to call forward your friends to the rescue—that's their game, depend upon it!" Mr. Aubrey fired at the bare thought. "Yet I must own I am at a loss to discover what motive or object Mr. Gammon can have for going so far out of his way to secure your good opinion, or for wrapping himself in so impenetrable a disguise. He is a very, very deep devil, that Gammon; and, depend upon it, has some sinister purpose to effect, which you will by-and-by discover!" Mr. Aubrey then, for the first time, acquainted Mr. Runnington with Gammon's recent proposals to Miss Aubrey, at which Mr. Runnington seemed for some moments struck dumb with astonishment.
"I presume," at length said he, turning with a brief and sad smile towards Miss Aubrey, whose reddening cheek betokened the interest she felt in the conversation—"I presume, Miss Aubrey, there is no chance of our seeing you pass into—Mrs. Gammon?"