"Well, well, captain," said the farmer, laughing, "I'll go--but your word's given, mind. So, don't ye strike the old man, though he were the devil himself. He looks more like a wet hen under a penthouse, howsomever."
The farmer's description was not far from correct; for Mr. Tims, who had expected no such fierce explosion as that which his words had occasioned, and had fancied he could be insolent in security--now stood aghast, as the rhetoric of Captain Delaware's horsewhip seemed likely to be applied to his shoulders. His knees acquired an additional bend, his nether jaw dropped, his arms hung distant from his sides, his cheeks grew paler, and his red nose stood out in prominent relief, under the very act of fear. The good farmer's interposition, however, calmed him sufficiently to enable his tongue to falter forth some words of apology, declaring that he did not intend to offend Captain Delaware--far from it; but how could that gentleman expect him to speak boldly upon such subjects, out in the public high-road? Who could tell, he demanded, that there might not be robbers in the immediate neighborhood of the place where they then stood!
"Well, if that be all," answered Captain Delaware, "I will protect you against robbers, till you get to your own house; and there you will be sufficiently at ease to give me a proper explanation of your unaccountable conduct."
Mr. Tims would fain have evaded this immediate consummation, as his purpose in walking to Emberton was to see Mr. Burrel, and ascertain exactly which way would be the most advantageous for him to act; but Captain Delaware was peremptory; the mediating farmer had walked up the lane, and Mr. Tims was obliged to turn his steps homeward. When he had entered the house, and led his unwelcome visitor into his little parlor, carefully closed the door, and listened to hear that the steps of even his faithful dirty Sally no longer haunted the passage, he began his explanation in a low tone.
"As you say, Captain Delaware--as you say, indeed," he went on--"it is a most unfortunate circumstance; but how can I help it? I depended upon another for the money--the letter of credit that he gave for the sum was duly presented; but it appears that a bill for ten thousand pounds, which he expected to be paid by this time, had been dishonored, and that his agents had not sufficient assets to meet the demand. But as you say, sir, it was impossible that I could help it."
Captain Delaware sat for a moment in silent but bitter disappointment. At length he exclaimed, "And who the devil is this gentleman, from whom you were to receive this money?"
Mr. Tims hesitated. "Why, as to that, Captain Delaware," he said, "I was expressly forbidden to tell; but since the matter has come to this pass, I dare say there can be no harm in it. He is no one else than the gentleman calling himself Mr. Burrel, or, in other words, your cousin, Mr. Henry Beauchamp."
William Delaware started off his chair, as any other quick-blooded person would have done, if such a tide of sudden and unexpected information were poured upon him. For a moment the blood rushed up into his cheeks--the first feeling of laying one's self under a deep obligation to any one being always painful. As long as he had thought that the miser advanced the money on mortgage, it had seemed a mere matter of traffic; but when he heard that it was Burrel, it instantly became an obligation, and the first feeling, as I have said, was not altogether pleasant. Neither was the fact, that the gay, the wealthy, the dashing, the sarcastic cousin, of whom he had heard so much, had--notwithstanding the chilling coldness with which Sir Sidney had, a year or two before, repelled some advances which Beauchamp had made--neither was the fact, I say, that he had opened his way into their family circle, taken a place by their fireside, and witnessed all the poverty and decay of their house, agreeable at its first aspect. But a moment's thought--by recalling all the delicacy of Henry Beauchamp's conduct, the kind and unaffected regard which he had shown toward them all, the persevering friendship with which he had followed up his purpose, and the real services he had so zealously planned--soon took away from the mind of William Delaware all that was painful in the sudden news he heard, and the glow was almost at once succeeded by a bright and happy smile.
"I see it all now," he cried; "I see it all now; and since such are the facts, Mr. Tims, the matter will be very easily arranged."
"Oh, doubtless, doubtless, sir," replied Mr. Tims. "As you say, every one knows that Mr. Beauchamp has the wherewithal to do any thing that he likes. His fortune is immense, sir--his fortune is immense. His father made a mint of money when he was governor of--"