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Jan sat down on the arm of the sofa, his great legs dangling. "Sibylla can't marry two," said he. "Will you be quiet, Jan?" said Lionel. "You have no right to interfere. You shall not interfere." "Gracious, Lionel, I don't want to interfere," returned Jan simply. "Sibylla's going to marry Fred Massingbird." "Will you be quiet?" reiterated Lionel, his brow flushing scarlet.
"He said nothing to me on that score, nor I to him," was the answer of Jan. "Look here, Lionel. Old West's a screw, between ourselves; but what I do earn is my own; so don't get breaking your rest, thinking you'll not have a pound or two to turn to. If John Massingbird does send you out, I can manage things for you, if you don't mind living quietly." Honest Jan!
"Then go and send him to me." John Massingbird was found and despatched to Mr. Verner, without any reluctance on his own part. He had been bestowing hard words upon Lionel for "taking up the time of the old man" just on the evening when he wanted to take it up himself. The truth was, John Massingbird was intending to depart the following morning, the Fates and Mr. Verner permitting him.
To lock a paper up in a desk, and for it to disappear of its own accord! The moths could not have got in and eaten it?" "Scarcely," smiled Lionel. "The day before your aunt died, she " "Don't talk of that," interrupted Mrs. Massingbird. "I will hear about her death to-morrow. I shall be ill if I cry much to-night." She sank into silence, and Lionel did not interrupt it.
She evidently took it as the latter, and it appeared to call up an angry spirit. She was vexed almost to tears. Frederick Massingbird detected it. "Silly Rachel!" he said, with a smile. "Do you suppose I should really counsel your throwing yourself away upon Luke Roy? Rachel," he continued, as the housekeeper again made her appearance, "you must bring up the things as soon as they are ready.
"And I shouldn't venture, sir, to speak to you, but that I'm so put to it, and that I've got it in my head it's through the fault of the servants." She spoke with evident reluctance. Lionel, he scarcely knew why, leaped to the conclusion that she was about to say something regarding the subject then agitating Deerham the ghost of Frederick Massingbird.
"I have no sin upon my conscience, Poor John, perhaps, had plenty of it. I do not understand you, Lionel Verner." "On your sacred word?" "On my word, and honour, too." "Then forgive me," was the ready reply of Lionel. And he held out his hand with frankness to Frederick Massingbird. Just one fortnight from the very day that witnessed the sailing of Frederick Massingbird and his wife, Mr.
John, I only waited for Luke Roy to come home, that I might expose him. I judged that Luke, being so much with him in Australia, might have heard a slip word drop as would confirm it. Somehow, though I thought Dolly Stubbs spoke truth, I didn't feel so sure of her as to noise it abroad." "You say it was Mr. John Massingbird who told you it was his brother?" "He told me, sir.
He jumped off when Lionel appeared, wound his arm within his, and drew him out on the terrace. "I have come to the bottom of it, Lionel," said he, without further circumlocution. "I dropped upon the ghost just now and pinned him. It is not Fred Massingbird." Lionel paused, and then drew a deep breath; like one who has been relieved from some great care. "Cannonby said it was not!" he exclaimed.
"You have come to bring me some unpleasant news, Captain Cannonby. Unhappily, it will be news no longer. But you will give me the confirming particulars." Captain Cannonby looked as if he did not understand. "Unpleasant news?" he repeated. "I speak" and Lionel lowered his voice "of Frederick Massingbird. You know, probably, what I would ask.
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