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Updated: June 17, 2025
In his state of suspense, he could neither wait, nor eat, nor remain still; it would be a satisfaction only to see Butterby, and hear his opinion. Mr. Huntley accompanied him; scarcely less proud than Hamish would have been, to walk once more arm in arm with Mr. Channing. But, as there is not the least necessity for our going to the police-station, for Mr.
Neither was he aware that Arthur had been taken into custody. Mr. Butterby had assumed the responsibility, and acted upon it. Mr. Butterby, since his interview with Mr. Galloway in the morning, had gathered, as he believed, sufficiently corroborating facts to establish, or nearly so, the guilt of Arthur Channing. He supposed that this was all Mr.
Yorke says he'll not leave a stone unturned to make Helstonleigh believe the money was lost in the post-office." "Yorke believes so himself," reproachfully rejoined Arthur. "I think most people do, with the exception of Butterby. Confounded old meddler! There would have been no outcry at all, but for him." A pause. Arthur did not seem inclined to break it.
Constance leaned against a chest of drawers to steady herself, and pressed her hand upon her shrinking face. "How have you learnt it?" "I have gathered it from different trifles; one fact and another. Jenkins said Butterby was with him this morning, asking questions about me. Better that I should be suspected than Hamish. God help me to bear it!"
You mean God." "Yes, my boy. God has cured me. The baths were only instruments in His hands." Rejecting all offers of refreshment the meal which Constance had planned, and Judith prepared, both with so much loving care Mr. Channing resolved to seek out Butterby at once.
"Ah, but he didn't see I was there, or my uncle either," said Mark. "When he is reading his newspaper of a morning, he can't bear a noise, and I always go into the room as quiet as mischief. He turned me out again pretty quick, I can tell you; but not till I had heard Butterby say that."
"You and Jenkins were not at the office during the suspected time." "Well, I know we were not," acknowledged Roland, lowering his voice to a more reasonable tone. "And, just because it happened, by some cross-grained luck, that Channing was, Butterby pitches upon him, and accuses him of the theft. He never did it! and I'll say it with my last breath."
And well, indeed, might he smile to see that young figure of justice turned to the living image of tender mercy. Perceiving him out of danger, and recovering her own wits at the same time, Mrs. Butterby cries: "Lord! Madam, do let me call a maid to take your place; for, dear heart! you have quite spoiled your new gown with this mess of water, and all for such a paltry fellow as this!"
But you must not suppose he did not feel it for himself; there were moments when he feared lest he should not carry it through. Mr. Butterby was waiting for a witness Mr. Galloway himself: and meanwhile, he entertained the bench with certain scraps, anecdotal and other, premising what would be proved before them.
Butterby, reaching the fallen man's ear, seemed instantly to quicken his spirits, and, casting off his lethargic humour, he quickly staggered to his feet, while we raised Moll. Then, resting one hand upon the table for support, he craved her pardon for giving so much trouble, but in a very faint, weak voice. "I would have done as much for a dog," says Moll.
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