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Green, and that he had instantly pronounced Mr. Barkington to be a man from Barkington who knew the truth about the fourteen thousand pounds, and that the said Green and his myrmidons were hunting Mr. Barkington like beagles, you will see that R. Hardie's was no vain terror. At last the judge returned, and Mr. Colt was obliged to put in his reserves; so called Dr. Sampson.
But, while the victim-suitor longed and pined and languished for one sound from the voice of Justice and Humanity, and while the Secret Tribunal, not being in prison itself all this time, "took it easy," events occurred at Barkington that bade fair to throw open the prison doors and bring father and son, bride and bridegroom, together again under one roof. But at what a price.
I am now about to make a revelation to the reader, that will incidentally lead him to Mrs. Dodd's conclusion, but by a different path. The outline she gave her daughter and my reader of Richard Hardie's cold and prudent youth was substantially correct; but something had occurred since then, unknown to her, unknown to all Barkington. The centuries had blown a respectable bubble.
He tumbled in with a bad headache and quite worn out, and never woke for fifteen hours. And when he did wake, he was safe at Barkington. He and It landed on the quay. He made for home. On the way he passed Hardie's bank, a firm synonymous in his mind with the Bank of England. A thrill of joy went through him. Now it was safe.
'Oh, a single man can always be put up; shake-down anything does for him, replied Sponge. 'But you would lose your hunting, replied Jawleyford. 'Barkington Tower is quite out of Lord Scamperdale's country. 'That doesn't matter, replied Sponge, adding, 'I don't think I'll trouble his lordship much more. These Flat Hat gentlemen are not over and above civil, in my opinion.
Barkington, that lodged above. "He is a decent body, miss, and between you and me, I think his complaint is, he don't get quite enough to eat." "Barkington!" said Julia, and put her hand to her bosom. She went and tapped at his door. "Come in," said a shrillish voice. She entered, and found a weazened old man seated, mending his own coat. He rose, and she told him she was a district visitor.
They pitied him, but most of them were sufferers too by Hardie, and all they gave him did but buy a donkey and cart; and with that he and his went slowly and sadly to a village ten miles distant from the place where all his life had been spent in comfort and good credit. The poor old gentleman often looked back from his cart at the church spires of Barkington.
In short, poor Alfred, though not an M. P., was talking to put off time, till Julia should come in: so he now favoured Mrs. Dodd, of all people, with a flowery description of her husband's play, which I, who have not his motive for volubility, suppress. However, he wound up with the captains "moral influence." "Last match," said he, "Barkington did not do itself justice.
Compton used to do his own business in Barkington, and employ an agent in London: but Alfred remembered to have heard just before his incarceration that he had reversed the parts, and now lived in London. Alfred found him out by the Directory, and called at his chambers in Lincoln's Inn Fields.
Verner is pretty well rooted; all these rural places are what you call reactionary. Damning aristocrats won't alter it." "He damns them rather well," observed Ashton. "We never had a better meeting than the one in Barkington, which generally goes Constitutional.
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