Mildred Arkell, (Vol 3 of 3)

ss of Mynn and Mynn. He had arrived at Eckford the previous day, as per agreement, but was not installed formally in the o

conduct of affairs was, during their absence, to fall upon him; he was, in point of fact, to be practically a principal, not a clerk,

r. Littelby's-a room which had hitherto been nobody's in particular, for the premises were commodious, but which Mr. Richards had been in the habit of appropriating as his own, not for office purposes, but for private uses. Quite a cargo of articles belonging to Mr. Richards had been there: coats, parcels, pipes, letters, and various other items too numerous to mention. On the previous

his life, sat at a small desk apart. Mr. Richards, ostensibly occupied in the perusal of some formidable-looking parchment, was, in reality, biting his nails and frowning, and inwardly wishing he could bring the ceiling down on Mr. Littelby's head, shut up in that

n his state of health allowed him a respite from pain. He had been well for two or three weeks now, and the office found the benefit of it. He was the one to explain matters to Mr. Littelby; Mr. George only put in a word here and there. In due cou

an end," he observed. "At least, I

t the assizes-that is, if the other side are so foolish

arr the clergyman?" asked Mr. Littelby, scarcel

esterbury, acts for them. But he'll never, as I

his new chief could mean; h

" he observed. "From the moment that the marriage was discovered to have t

been discovered to have ta

that you have not had intimat

rge, who had been looking at his

?" asked Mr. Mynn, with the air of a man wh

pped between the leaves of an old blotting-book, and lain there unsuspected. While poor Robert Carr the clergyman was wearing away his last days of life in those fruitless searchings of the London churches, he little

ed George Mynn, speaking for the

h him, Martha Ann Hughes, on the morning they left Westerbury-m

James the Less," said Mr.

as being a somewhat uncommon appellation. That is where th

on. Mr. George never spoke: he said afterwards, that the thought flash

f this?" was Mr. My

r, attaching little importance to Mr. Fauntleroy's request of keeping it to herself, had either forgotten or neglected to caution Mr. Littelby, to whom it had at once been told. Mr. Littelby

known to Mr. Fauntl

rded the letter to him the

uilty of the child's play of concealing this knowledge until the cause was before the court, and

age did take place there?" qu

was so full of significance: and Mr. Myn

story," continued the younger man. "W

she is capable of-of-concocting any

it. I only say the thing w

and mother. Besides, the letter, remember, only stated where the marriage took place, and where its record might be found

ir; his hands in his waistcoat pocke

r, Mr. Littelby?" he in

. Fauntleroy. She told me its conten

ad: some persons, surely, would have seen them go into the church; and the parson and clerk must have been cognisant of it!

as found by Mrs. Carr, and that she implicitly believes in it. Would the letter be likely to assert a thing that a minute's t

ld Mynn lowered his voice as he spoke-"as frauds committed on registers; false entries made. And they have passed for genuine, too, to unsus

de in the register!" exclaimed Mr. Littelby, speaking

qually impossible for the marriage to have

rect-who can have been wicked enough t

rs of Eckford, therefore they are exempt from the suspicion. I wonder," continued Mr. Mynn in a

Littelby. "I could answer for his truth and honour with my life. The findin

her brother,

ome affairs, which are also complicated. He has

vened, before now, between a committed fraud and its plotter. Well, we will say no more at

over now?" as

ision; "and I'll bring you back my re

eed that he should be. When he did arrive he explained that his del

you told us of, Mr. Littelby," he said, as he took off his coat; "there i

ntry

what

d George Mynn was sitting with his elbow on the table, and his aching head leaning on his hand. The least excitement

there-and I am prepared to take an affidavit, if necessary, that no such marriage is recorded in the boo

me into the money, th

it was very strange, if such a thing had been there, that

you have ful

ter what he had said. "There is no such marriage entered there; and rely upon it no such marriage ever was entered

t Carr, the elder, hav

it? It may b

n't say it-of which this letter was the prologue. Perhaps the epilogue-the insertion of the marriage in the register-was frustra

ay and affirm-that there's no record; and had the let

ed Mr. Littelby. "I am nearly sure that he has not given notice

letter for granted, without sending to see the register, he must put

like to have been startled unnecessarily. He sat down and drew the papers before him, saying something to the effect that perhaps they could attend to t

ad said nothing to Mynn and Mynn of his private information; a

e twilight, musing very sadly on the past. The servants were at tea in the kitchen, and one of them had just been up to ask her mistress if

yke. It quite jarred upon her heart. How often has it occurred to us, bending under the weight of some s

oments of gloom. Mrs. Dundyke was aroused from it in a remarkable manner; not violently or loudly, but still in so strange

r click it used to give, and she heard the door quietly open and then close again, as if some one had entered. Not since they went abroad the previous July had she heard those sounds, or had the door thus been opened. There ha

he dining-room, and were now ascending the stairs. Mrs. Dundyke was by far too practical a woman to believe in ghosts, but

tse

e; his, and yet not his. His, in a manner; but querulous, worn, weakened. She stood in horror, utterly bewildered, not daring to move, her arms clasping a chair for

e it, just as though he had not been gone away an hour-he who had once been David Dundyke. Was it David Dundyke still-was it? He looked thin and shabby, and his hair

and turned his head, lookin

tse

ve been she did not know yet-did not glance at in that wild moment-but she fell d

, and the time came for questions-that he could not explain much of the mystery either. He had evidently undergone some great cha

eir sojourn at the hotel at Geneva seemed to have gone from his mind altogether. Mrs. Du

oothingly, as he lay on the sofa she had drawn to the fi

le? I came ba

"Came back

the

s she felt, for the twentieth time, that henceforth he could only b

es

you il

e not strong. They turned. It was the bed in the kitchen w

o d

arie. She's

take car

e. Little Paul used to fe

words with trembling, lest the name

e, his face and thoughts working. "Hardcastle! I

?" she asked, as qu

e gave me something to drink out of a bottle,

stay w

though he did not un

k out the letters, and put it back to me agai

d Paul f

comprehend the "when." "In his

recollect; did Paul ta

d his head several times, as if wish

ose you wer

ey said so. Marie spoke Englis

ous, but Mrs. Dundyke did

itself to her, that she might see them worn and travel-stained. But they were not. They were the

ed. "I came. Marie said I was we

ote?" s

. He didn't see that w

. She began to comprehend a little,

must have robb

castle ro

words. She had noticed the same peculiar

one you had written for over and above what

before David could answer. "He might have wanted to borr

astle as to send for money in case he should "want to borrow mo

elieve in hi

y bank notes; and he left me in the sun.

did you not

afterwards, that he could not write; she was

end to Gen

neva?-

not to you. Did yo

that he must have lain long insensible, for weeks, perhaps months; that is, not sufficiently conscious to

David?" she asked agai

nd sea. I told them all to take me to England; Paul got

e the meaning of it. Mr. Dundyke put his hand in h

some. I gav

d yet, how he could have found his way home alone; even

d! I don't know how I shall e

ke some

piration. She was soon to find that any finer feeling he might ever have possessed, had gone with his

me down here to

n here to-night? Th

er better to-morrow." The porter was brought to him, and he fell asleep immediately a

ven him some stupefying drink, and then robbed him and left him; but Mrs. Dundyke inclined to the opinion that the man must have believed Mr. Dundyke insensible, or he surely would never have allowed him to see him take the notes. He must then have lain, it was hard to say how long, before Paul found him; and the lying thus in the sun probably induced the fit, or sun-stroke, or brain fever, whatever it was, that attacked him. He spoke of a cart: and she concluded that Paul must have been many miles out of the route of his h

you wear

pointing to the widow's cap. She ro

r! we have been mo

as dead! I

appy tears for it, as she threw the cap off

life, was over. No more intellect; no more business for him in Fenchurch-street; no more a

e home. It was a strange fact to go forth to the world: one amidst the extr