shut the door, and with her brother returned to the parlor. At the head of the stairs that led to the dining-room stood Number Two and Biddy, who in stupid wonder had witnessed the scenes just described.
"Bridget," exclaimed the enraged mistress, "what are you staring at?
Come here! Pah! you have been drinking! You, too, you creature!"
Number Two bowed with maudlin politeness.
"You-do-m'injustice, Ma'am. On'y a smallsup, a littlesup, ponmyhonorasgen'l'man."
"Bridget, do you pack up your baggage and be off! Rioting and feasting in the time of our trouble! Ungrateful hussy!"
"I'll do that same, Miss Marshy; but me waages, if ye plaze, Miss."
"Get your wages, if you can. You've broken more crockery and glass, and wasted more wines and preserves, than you ever earned."
"That's always the way, Miss, I've noticed, when missuses was o' mind to get claar of payin' the honest dues. But me brother"—
"Be off to your brother! But first go and cool your head under the water-faucet."
Muttering and whining, the disconsolate Biddy crept up to the attic for her scanty wardrobe.
"Here, fellow!" said Marcia to Number Two, whose foolish smiles at any other time would have been ludicrous,—"go into the kitchen and get sober."
He obeyed like a spaniel.
"Now, Henry," said Marcia, rather more composed, "let us do something at once. It's plain that we can't live here for the house will be stripped; and in our circumstances we would not stay, if we could. That fellow is so far stupefied that we can save what we can carry away. If you have any spirit left, help me pack our clothes and such things as can be put into our trunks. Come! are you dreaming?"
He started up and followed her like a child. With superhuman energy, she ransacked the house and gathered the most valuable articles. Plate, linen, dresses, Parian ware, books, furs, and jewelry were packed, as securely as the time allowed. A carriage and a baggage-wagon were ordered, and in an incredibly short period they were ready to start.
"We have forgotten Charles," said Mr. Sandford.
"True enough," said Marcia. "Go and call him; he is too handsome to be spared from our party just now. Tell him to bring his clothes."
The penitent came down, reluctantly; his nose was still puffy, and the crescent under his eye rather more livid; muffled and cloaked, he was led to the carriage. Mr. Sandford then remembered the cherished parchment certificates and votes of thanks,—his title-deeds to distinction.
"Leave them," said his sister, contemptuously. "What are they good for?
A few commonplace autographs in tarnished gilt frames."
Bridget, meanwhile, went off, threatening all sorts of reprisals on the part of her brother, who "wouldn't see her imposed upon by the likes of thim, not he!" From the kitchen, at intervals, came up doleful snatches of "Then you'll remember me," interrupted by hiccoughs, and with involuntary variations and cadenzas that would have driven "Balfy" mad.
All was ready and they drove off. The house wherein had lived a Benefactor of Mankind was deserted.
CHAPTER XXII
Greenleaf found a carriage for Mrs. Sandford, and accompanied her to a private boarding-house, where she took lodgings; he then sent the driver back for her trunks, and, having seen her comfortably provided for, returned to his own rooms,—but not to remain there. He desired only to leave a message on his door, explaining his absence. In less than an hour he was in the railway-train, on his way to Innisfield.
To the musing or drowsy traveller by rail how space and time are annihilated! He is barely conscious of progress, only when the brakeman with measured tone shouts the name of the station; he looks up from his paper or rouses from his doze, looks out at the cheerless prospect, and then settles himself for another thirty miles. Time passes as unobserved as the meadows or bushy pastures that flit by the jarring window at his ear. But with Greenleaf, the reader will believe, the case was far different. He had never noticed before how slowly the locomotives really moved. At each station where wood and water were to be taken, it seemed to him the delay was interminable. His eager desire shot along the track like electricity; and when at last he reached the place where he was to leave the train, he had gone through a year of ordinary hopes and fears. He mounted the stage-box and took his seat beside the buffalo-clad, coarse-bearded, and grim driver. The road lay through a hilly country, with many romantic views on either hand. It was late in the season to see the full glories of autumn; but the trees were not yet bare, and in many places the contrasts of color were exquisite. For once the driver found his match; he had a passenger as taciturn as himself. For the first few miles not a word was spoken, saving a few brief threats to the horses; but at last Jehu could hold out no longer; his reputation was in danger, if he allowed any one to be more silent than himself, and he cautiously commenced a skirmish.
"From Boston?"
A nod was the only reply.
"Belong about here?"
"No," with a shake of the head.
"Ben up here afore, though, I guess?"
"Yes."
"Thought I remembered. Year or so ago?"
"Yes."
"Had a great white cotton umbrill, a box like a shoe-kit, and suthin' like a pair o' clo'es-frames?"
Greenleaf could but smile at the description of his easel and artist's outfit; still he contented himself with a brief assent.
"Keeps tight as the bark to a white-oak," muttered Jehu to himself.
"Guess I'll try him on t'other side, seein' he's so offish."
Then aloud,—
"Knowed Square Lee, I b'lieve?"
"Yes," thundered Greenleaf, looking furiously at the questioner.
The glance frightened Jehu's soul from the red-curtained windows, where it had been peeping out, back to its hiding-place, wherever that might be.
"Well, yer needn't bite a feller's head off," muttered he, in the same undertone as before. "And if ye want to keep to yerself, shet up yer darned oyster-shell, and see how much you make by it. Not more'n four and sixpence, I guess. Maybe you'll come back 'bout's wise as ye come."
Thenceforward, Buffalo-coat was grim; his admonitions to the horses were a trifle more emphatic; once he whistled a fragment of a minor stave, but spoke not a word till the coach reached the tavern-door.
"You can drive to Mr. Lee's house," said Greenleaf.
"Want to go where he is?" replied Jehu, with a sardonic grin. "Wal, I'm goin' past the meetin'us, and I'll set ye down at the graveyard."
"What do you mean?" asked Greenleaf, between anger and terror, at this brutal jest.
"Why, he's dead, you know, and ben layin' up there on the side-hill a fortnight."
"Take me to the house, nevertheless."
"Lee's house? 'Siah
