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 410, that I must have brought it upon myself by some insolence? In one sense I had; for I had been telling him that I suspected him of having something to do with Mrs. Crane’s death. Lady Jane Chesney heard me say it, for the encounter took place at her garden gate, and she happened to be there. No wonder he caned me. The only marvel to me now is, looking back, that he did not three parts kill me. I know I was too insolent. But there’s something worse than all behind, that I have not yet spoken of.”

“What’s that?” asked Sir Stephen.

“Well, it’s very dreadful: not altogether pleasant to talk about. That first wife, that poor Mrs. Crane, turns out to have been the lost daughter of the Earl of Oakburn.”

Sir Stephen felt confounded. “My boy! what is it that you are telling me?”

“Nothing but the miserable truth. She was Clarice Chesney. You may guess what this discovery is, altogether, for Lady Jane. So far, however, Mr. Carlton must be exonerated. From what can be gleaned, it would appear that he never knew she was connected with them,—never knew her for a Chesney,—only as Miss Beauchamp, and she married him under that name alone.”

“I never heard anything so painful in my life,” exclaimed Sir Stephen. “But why should—Frederick, what in the world’s all this?”

He might well exclaim! They had turned into the street at South Wennock, and found themselves in the midst of a dense and shouting crowd. The fact was, Mrs. Fitch, who was no more capable of keeping a secret than are ladies in general, had spread the news abroad amidst the public that Sir Stephen Grey was coming in, in a barouche and pair; and she hoped they’d cheer him.

The recommendation was needless. Gathered there to wait for the carriage, the mob broke out with one loud shout of acclamation when it came in sight. “Long live Sir Stephen Grey! Would he ever pardon them for having suspected him?—they’d never forgive themselves. Health, and joy, and long life to Sir Stephen Grey!”

They pressed round the barouche as they shouted. Sir Stephen was not eaten, but his hands were pretty nearly shaken off. And before he was at all aware of what the mob were about, they had unharnessed the horses, sent them away by the post-boy, and were harnessing themselves to the carriage, squabbling and fighting which and how many should enjoy the honour. In this manner, shouting, hurrahing, and gesticulating, they commenced drawing Sir Stephen towards his brother’s.

Frederick did not admire being made much of. He opened the door to leap out, but with that dense mob, extending for some yards round about, it could not be done without danger. He remonstrated, and Sir Stephen remonstrated, but only to draw forth fresh cheers and an increased rate of speed in the transit; so they were obliged, perforce, to resign themselves to their fate, the good-humoured Sir Stephen laughing and bowing incessantly.

Suddenly there was a halt, a stoppage, a summary check to the triumphal car. The mob had come in contact with another mob, who had been waiting all that while round the town hall for Mr. Carlton to emerge from it. That gentleman, escorted by the whole force of the South Wennock police, consisting of about six, was in front, with the attendant mob dancing around. The two mobs joined voice, and the shouts for Sir Stephen Grey changed into yells of anger.

They were close abreast, the barouche and the prisoner, and neither could stir one road or the other, for the mob had it all their own way. The few policemen were quite powerless.

“Down with him! Let’s seize him! Let’s have lynch law over here for once! What right had he, that Carlton, knowing what he’d done, to come into our houses, a-doctoring of our wives and children? Let’s serve him out, as he served out her! Here goes!”

Another moment, and Mr. Carlton would have been in their hands, at their cruel mercy, but Sir Stephen Grey rose up to the rescue. He stood on the seat of the carriage and bared his head while he addressed the excited mob; the flaring gas light from a butcher’s shop shining full on his face.

“If you touch Mr. Carlton by so much as a finger, you are not my fellow townsmen, my own dear old neighbours of South Wennock, and I will never again meet you as such. I thought you were Englishmen! If Mr. Carlton be accused of crime, is there not the law of his country to judge him? You are not the law; you are not his accusers; he has not injured you. My friends, in this moment, when you have made me so happy by your welcome, don’t do anything to mar it; don’t make me ashamed of you!”

“It was he druv you from the town, Sir Stephen; it was he, with his canting lies again you, made us think ill of you, and turn our backs upon the truest friend we ever had.”

“That’s not your affair; that’s mine; he did not drive you from it. If I forgive and forget the past, surely you can do it. Carlton,” he impulsively said, “I do forgive you heartily for any wrong they think you may