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I am resolved I won't go there till to-morrow, for this is no hour to be a-calling on ladies, and her husband being away 'twill look as if we had ordered it of purpose. Besides, if Moll's in trouble, how am I to pretend I know nothing of the matter and care less, and this Mother Butterby and a parcel of sly, observant servants about to surprise one at any moment?
Galloway's office at one o'clock, stating what he had done, and requesting him to be at the office at two, for the examination and the note had been lying there ever since. It was being opened now. Now at the exact moment that Mr. Roland Yorke was giving vent to that friendly little wish, about the river and Mr. Butterby. Mr.
With some trouble: threatenings on the part of the court, and more explosions from himself: Mr. Roland Yorke was persuaded to retire. He went as far as the back of the room, and there indulged in under-currents of wrath, touching injustice and Mr. Butterby, to a select circle who gathered round him.
"I shall not allow my doubts of him to go further than you," he said aloud. "And I shall put a summary stop to the law proceedings." "How will you do that, now that they are publicly entered upon?" asked Mr. Channing. "I'll manage it," was the reply. "We'll see which is strongest, I or Butterby." When they were gathering together for the reading, that night, Arthur took his place as usual. Mr.
"You must have misunderstood him," returned Gaunt, carelessly taking up Tom Channing's notion; "and you had no right to blurt out such a thing to the school. Arthur Channing is better known and trusted than you, Mr. Mark." "I didn't accuse Arthur Channing to the school. I only repeated to my desk what Butterby said."
Butterby came forward, a spare, pale man, of middle height, his eyes deeply set, and his nose turned up to the skies. He was of silent habit; probably, of a silent nature. Mr. Galloway recited the circumstances of his loss. The detective sat near him, his hands on his knees, his head bent, his eyes cast upon the floor. He did not interrupt the story by a single word.
Galloway had met a friend in the town, and had gone with him a few miles by rail into the country, on unexpected business. He had just returned to find the note, and to hear Jenkins' account of Arthur's arrest. "I am vexed at this," he exclaimed, his tone betraying excessive annoyance. "Butterby has exceeded his orders." Jenkins thought he might venture to put in a word for Arthur.
"What on earth was the time of the bench taken up for in bringing it here?" And there was an end of the case at any rate for the present for nothing more satisfactory could be got out of Mr. Galloway. "I have been checkmated," ejaculated the angry Butterby. They walked back arm-in-arm to Mr. Galloway's, Roland and Arthur. Hamish went the other way, to his own office, and Mr.
"When I called in Butterby to my aid this morning, I had no more notion that it was Arthur Channing who was guilty, than I had that it was that sofa of yours. Butterby would have cast suspicion to him then, but I repelled it. He afterwards acted upon his own responsibility while my back was turned. It is as I say often to my office people: I can't stir out for a few hours but something goes wrong!
But it produced great annoyance; all parties concerned, even those who had lost the ring, would rather have buried it in silence. It was hushed up afterwards. Butterby ought to understand people's wishes, before he sets to work." "I wish press-gangs were in fashion!" emphatically uttered Roland. "What a nice prize he'd make!"
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