"Poor fellow!"said I to myself,recalling the bright,busy,laughing faces of our growing up lads,recalling especially their father's--full of all that active energy and wise cheerfulness which gives zest to existence;God forbid any man should die till he has lived to learn it!--"poor fellow!I wish his moodiness could take a lesson from us at home!"But the gentleman soon retired from my observation under his furs;for the sky had gloomed over,and snow began to fall.Those on the pavement shook it drearily off,and kept turning every minute to the Abbey clock--I feared it would take the patience of Job to enable them to hold out another quarter of an hour.
At length some determined hand again battered at the door.I fancied I heard a clerk speaking out of the first-floor window.
"Gentlemen"--how tremblingly polite the voice was!--"Gentlemen,in five minutes--positively five minutes--the bank will--"The rest of the speech was drowned and lost.Dashing round the street corner,the horses all in a foam,came our Beechwood carriage.
Mr.Halifax leaped out.
Well might the crowd divide for him--well might they cheer him.For he carried a canvas bag--a great,ugly,grimy-coloured bag--a precious,precious bag,with the consolation--perhaps the life--of hundreds in it!
I knew,almost by intuition,what he had done--what,in one or two instances,was afterwards done by other rich and generous Englishmen,during the crisis of this year.
The bank door flew open like magic.The crowd came pushing in;but when John called out to them,"Good people,pray let me pass!"they yielded and suffered him to go in first.He went right up to the desk,behind which,flanked by a tolerable array of similar canvas bags,full of gold--but nevertheless waiting in mortal fear,and as white as his own neck-cloth--the old banker stood.
"Mr.Jessop,"John said,in a loud,distinct voice,that all might hear him,"I have the pleasure to open an account with you.I feel satisfied that in these dangerous times no credit is more safe than yours.Allow me to pay in to-day the sum of five thousand pounds.""Five thousand pounds!"
The rumour of it was repeated from mouth to mouth.In a small provincial bank,such a sum seemed unlimited.It gave universal confidence.Many who had been scrambling,swearing,almost fighting,to reach the counter and receive gold for their notes,put them again into their pockets,uncashed.Others,chiefly women,got them cashed with a trembling hand--nay,with tears of joy.A few who had come to close accounts,changed their minds,and even paid money in.All were satisfied--the run upon the bank ceased.
Mr.Halifax stood aside,looking on.After the first murmur of surprise and pleasure no one seemed to take any notice of him,or of what he had done.Only one old widow woman,as she slipped three bright guineas under the lid of her market-basket,dropped him a curtsey in passing by.
"It's your doing,Mr.Halifax.The Lord reward you,sir.""Thank you,"he said,and shook her by the hand.I thought to myself,watching the many that came and went,unmindful,"ONLY THISSAMARITAN!"
No--one person more,standing by,addressed him by name."This is indeed your doing,and an act of benevolence which I believe no man alive would have done,except Mr.Halifax."And the gentleman who spoke--the same I had seen outside in his curricle--held out a friendly hand.
"I see you do not remember me.My name is Ravenel.""Lord Ravenel!"
John uttered this exclamation--and no more.I saw that this sudden meeting had brought back,with a cruel tide of memory,the last time they met--by the small nursery bed,in that upper chamber at Enderley.
However,this feeling shortly passed away,as must needs be;and we all three began to converse together.
While he talked,something of the old "Anselmo"came back into Lord Ravenel's face:especially when John asked him if he would drive over with us to Enderley.
"Enderley--how strange the word sounds!--yet I should like to see the place again.Poor old Enderley!"Irresolutely--all his gestures seemed dreamy and irresolute--he drew his hand across his eyes--the same white long-fingered,womanish hand which had used to guide Muriel's over the organ keys.
"Yes--I think I will go back with you to Enderley.But first I must speak to Mr.Jessop here."It was about some poor Catholic families,who,as we had before learnt,had long been his pensioners.