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It seemed to him that Fardell must have been drinking. "Do you mind explaining yourself?" he asked. "I can do so," Fardell answered. "I must do so. But while I am about it I want you to put on your hat and come with me." Mannering laughed shortly. "What, to-night?" he exclaimed. "No, thank you. Be reasonable, Fardell. I've had my day's work, and I think I've earned a little rest.
"You found, I hope," he said, drily, "that the British workman had discovered a better investment for his shillings and half-crowns than the race-course." Mr. Richard Fardell smiled pleasantly, but tolerantly. "It's clear," he said, "that you, meaning no offence, Mr. Mannering, know nothing about the British workman. Whatever else he may be, he's a sportsman.
It is dangerous for you to stay. He was evidently expecting that fellow Ronaldson to-night." Mannering nodded. "What shall you do with him?" he asked. "Hide him if I can," Fardell answered, grimly. "If I can get him out of this place, it ought not to be impossible. The most important thing at present is for you to get away without being recognized." Mannering took up his hat.
Mannering slowly subsided into his chair. His cheeks were blanched. Richard Fardell watched him with feverish anxiety. "It is a lie," Mannering declared. "There is no man living who can say this." "The man says," Fardell continued, stonily, "that his name is Parkins, and that he was butler to Mr. Stephen Phillimore eleven years ago." "Parkins is dead!" Mannering said, hoarsely.
"There is a person," Fardell said, slowly, "who has made extraordinary statements. Our opponents have got hold of him. The substance of them is this: He says that many years ago you were the lover of a married woman, that you sold her husband worthless shares and ruined him, and that finally in a quarrel he declares that he was an eye-witness of this that you killed him."
Also, when the ship beginneth to lade, you shall be ready aboard with your book to enter such goods as shall be brought aboard to be laden for the company, packed or unpacked, taking the marks and numbers of every pack, fardell, truss, or packet, coronoya, chest, vat, butt, pipe, puncheon, whole barrel, half barrel, firkin, or other cask, maunde, or basket, or any other thing which may or shall be packed by any other manner of way or device.
Mannering had seen him before during the day, but noticed at once a change in him. He was pale, and looked like a man who had received some sort of a shock. "Come in, Fardell, and sit down," Mannering said. "You look tired. Have a drink." Fardell walked straight to the tray and helped himself to some neat whiskey. "Thank you, sir," he said. "I I've had rather a knockout blow."
Parkins's story, authenticated or not, would have lost me my seat for Leeds." "Then I am very glad," she said, "that I happened to see the telegram. Do you know where Parkins is now?" "One of my supporters," he said, "a queer little man named Richard Fardell, has him in tow. He is bringing him up to London, I think." She nodded. "What are you doing this afternoon?" he asked.
The Fardell stone was found about the year 1850, acting as a footbridge across a small brook at Fardell, near Ivybridge, Devonshire a district once inhabited by a Celtic tribe. It is of coarse granite, 6 ft. 3 in. high, 2 ft. 9 in. broad, and from 7 to 9 inches thick. It bears an Ogam inscription on two angles of the same face, and debased Roman characters on the front and back.
Mannering looked at him in amazement. "But my dear sir," he said, "what is your grievance against me? I have always considered myself a people's politician." "Then the people may very well say 'save me from my friends'," Fardell answered, grimly. "Mind, I believe you're honest, or you'd be lying on your back now with a cracked skull. But you are using a great influence on the wrong side.
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