So they left him sleeping in his chair, with his head on the table among the glasses and the spilt punch. It was not long, however, before they discovered what his words had meant. It was not the raving of a drunken man, but the betrayal in his cups—unfortunately only a partial revelation of the abominable wickedness by which he proposed to acquire sudden wealth. Said I not that Tom Rising was never one to be balked or denied when he had set his heart upon a thing; nor was he to be restrained by any consideration of law, human or divine; or of consequences in this world or the next? You shall now hear what he designed and what he called the shortest way, and how he was going to become the richest man in the county.
CHAPTER XXI
MOLLY'S SECOND APPEARANCE
Molly's first appearance was at the assembly of Tuesday; her second on that of Friday. Between these two days, as you have seen, a good many things happened, not the least important of which was Lady Anastasia's "adoption," so to speak, of Molly.
On Tuesday she came with the captain, whose appearance betrayed the old sailor, followed by the young sailor, transformed, for one night only, into a fine gentleman. On that occasion she was dressed with an extravagant display of jewels which might have suited an aged duchess at court, but was entirely unfitting to a young girl in the assembly of a watering place; she then danced as if every step had been recently taught her (which was indeed the case) and as if every posture was fresh from the hands of the dancing-master.
This evening she came in the company and under the protection of the Lady Anastasia herself, whose acceptance of her right to appear could not be questioned, save in whispers and behind the fan. The former partner in the minuet, he who sprawled and trod the boards like an elephant; the sailor who would pass for a gentleman—in a word, her old friend, Jack Pentecrosse (myself)—was not present.
I had proposed to accompany her, but in the morning I received a message from Lady Anastasia, "Would Mr. Pentecrosse be so very good as to call upon her immediately?"
I went. I found her the most charming lady, with the most gracious manner, that I had ever seen. She was, indeed, the only lady of quality with whom I have ever conversed. It seemed as if she understood perfectly my mind as regards Molly, because while she humiliated me, at the same time she made me feel that the humiliation was necessary in the interests of Molly herself. In a word, she asked me not to accompany Molly again to the assembly, nor to present myself there; and, therefore, not to remind the company that Molly's friends were young men who were not gentlemen. "You have the face and the heart, Mr. Pentecrosse," she said, laying her white hand on my arm, "of a man of honour. With such a man as yourself, one does not ask for a shield and a pedigree. But where women are concerned some things are necessary. You love our Molly"—she said "our" Molly, and yet she was in league with the arch villain, the earl among lost souls. "You love her. I read it in your betraying blush and in your humid eyes. Therefore you will consent to this sacrifice with a cheerful heart. And, Mr. Pentecrosse—I would willingly call you Jack, after Molly's sisterly fashion—come to see me again. It does me good—a woman of fashion, which too often means of hollow hearts—to converse with a young man so honest and so simple. Come again, Jack. I am here nearly every morning after prayers."
I obeyed, of course. Who could resist such a woman? Well, Molly appeared under her protection. She was now dressed with the simplicity that belongs to youth, yet with a simplicity only apparent and not real. For the cloth of gold and the embroidery had vanished; the bracelets, heavy with rubies and emeralds, had disappeared; the golden cestus, the diamonds, the gold chains, all were gone. But the pink silk gown and the white silk petticoat which she wore were costly; the neck and the sleeves were edged and adorned with lace such as no other lady in the room could show; round her neck lay a necklace of pearls as big as cobnuts; on her wrists hung a fan whose handle was set with sapphires; and in her hair, such was the simplicity of the maiden, was placed a white rose. Her head was not built after the former manner, but was covered now with natural curls, only kept in place by the art of the friseur. In a word, it was Molly herself, not an artificial Molly; Molly herself, just adorned with the feminine taste which raised the Lady Anastasia above the blind laws of mere fashion who now entered the room. She proclaimed herself once more as the heiress with a more certain note and with less ostentation.
"With her ladyship! With the Lady Anastasia!" they whispered behind their fans. "What next? Are there no ladies in the room but she must pick up this girl out of the gutter?" But they did not say these things aloud; on the contrary they pressed around her ladyship, gazing rudely and curiously upon the intruder.