CHAPTER XL.
THE FOX IN HIS EARTH.
Mary Swan the younger hesitated a moment before she executed hermother's order, not saying anything, but looking doubtfully up intoher mother's face. "Go, my dear," said the old woman, "and ask yourfather to come down. It is no use denying him."
"None in the least," said Mr. Prendergast; and then the daughterwent.
For ten minutes the lawyer and the old woman sat alone, during whichtime the ear of the former was keenly alive to any steps that mightbe heard on the stairs or above head. Not that he would himselfhave taken any active measures to prevent Mr. Mollett's escape,had such an attempt been made. The woman could be a better witnessfor him than the man, and there would be no fear of her running.Nevertheless, he was anxious that Mollett should, of his own accord,come into his presence.
"I am sorry to keep you so long waiting, sir," said Mrs. Swan.
"It does not signify. I can easily understand that your husbandshould wish to reflect a little before he speaks to me. I can forgivethat."
"And, sir--"
"Well, Mrs. Mollett?"
"Are you going to do anything to punish him, sir? If a poor woman mayventure to speak a word, I would beg you on my bended knees to bemerciful to him. If you would forgive him now I think he would livehonest, and be sorry for what he has done."
"He has worked terrible evil," said Mr. Prendergast solemnly. "Do youknow that he has harassed a poor gentleman into his grave?"
"Heaven be merciful to him!" said the poor woman. "But, sir, was notthat his son? Was it not Abraham Mollett who did that? Oh, sir, ifyou will let a poor wife speak, it is he that has been worse than hisfather."
Before Mr. Prendergast had made up his mind how he would answer her,he heard the sound of footsteps slowly descending upon the stairs.They were those of a person who stepped heavily and feebly, and itwas still a minute before the door was opened.
"Sir," said the woman. "Sir," and as she spoke she looked eagerlyinto his face--"Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them thattrespass against us. We should all remember that, sir."
"True, Mrs. Mollett, quite true;" and Mr. Prendergast rose from hischair as the door opened.
It will be remembered that Mr. Prendergast and Matthew Molletthad met once before, in the room usually occupied by Sir ThomasFitzgerald. On that occasion Mr. Mollett had at any rate entered thechamber with some of the prestige of power about him. He had cometo Castle Richmond as the man having the whip hand; and though hiscourage had certainly fallen somewhat before he left it, neverthelesshe had not been so beaten down but what he was able to say a word ortwo for himself. He had been well in health and decent in appearance,and even as he left the room had hardly realized the absolute ruinwhich had fallen upon him.
But now he looked as though he had realized it with sufficientclearness. He was lean and sick and pale, and seemed to be ten yearsolder than when Mr. Prendergast had last seen him. He was wrapped inan old dressing-gown, and had a night-cap on his head, and coughedviolently before he got himself into his chair. It is hard for anytame domestic animal to know through what fire and water a poor foxis driven as it is hunted from hole to hole and covert to covert. Itis a wonderful fact, but no less a fact, that no men work so hardand work for so little pay as scoundrels who strive to live withoutany work at all, and to feed on the sweat of other men's brows. PoorMatthew Mollett had suffered dire misfortune, had encountered veryhard lines, betwixt that day on which he stole away from the KanturkHotel in South Main Street, Cork, and that other day on which hepresented himself, cold and hungry and almost sick to death, at thedoor of his wife's house in Spinny Lane, St. Botolph's in the East.
He never showed himself there unless when hard pressed indeed, andthen he would skulk in, seeking for shelter and food, and pleadingwith bated voice his husband right to assistance and comfort. Nor washis plea ever denied him.
On this occasion he had arrived in very bad plight indeed: he hadbrought away from Cork nothing but what he could carry on his body,and had been forced to pawn what he could pawn in order that he mightsubsist And then he had been taken with ague, and with the fit strongon him had crawled away to Spinny Lane, and had there been nursed bythe mother and daughter whom he had ill used, deserted, and betrayed."When the devil was sick the devil a monk would be;" and now hiswife, credulous as all women are in such matters, believed thedevil's protestations. A time may perhaps come when even-- Butstop!--or I may chance to tread on the corns of orthodoxy. What Imean to insinuate is this; that it was on the cards that Mr. Mollettwould now at last turn over a new leaf.
"How do you do, Mr. Mollett?" said Mr. Prendergast. "I am sorry tosee you looking so poorly."
"Yes, sir. I am poorly enough certainly. I have been very ill sinceI last had the pleasure of seeing you, sir."
"Ah, yes, that was at Castle Richmond; was it not? Well, you havedone the best thing that a man can do; you have come home to yourwife and family now that you are ill and require their attendance."
Mr. Mollett looked up at him with a countenance full of unutterablewoe and weakness. What was he to say on such a subject in such acompany? There sat his wife and daughter, his veritable wife andtrue-born daughter, on whom he was now dependent, and in whose handshe lay, as a sick man does lie in the hands of women: could he denythem? And there sat the awful Mr. Prendergast, the representativeof all that Fitzgerald interest which he had so wronged, and who upto this morning had at any rate believed the story with which he,Mollett, had pushed his fortunes in county Cork. Could he in hispresence acknowledge that Lady Fitzgerald had never been his wife? Itmust be confessed that he was in a sore plight. And then remember hisague!
"You feel yourself tolerably comfortable, I suppose, now that you arewith your wife and daughter," continued Mr. Prendergast, mostinhumanly.
Mr. Mollett continued to look at him so piteously from beneath hisnightcap. "I am better than I was, thank you, sir," said he.
"There is nothing like the bosom of one's family for restoring one tohealth; is there, Mrs. Mollett;--or for keeping one in health?"
"I wish you gentlemen would think so," said she, drily.
"As for me, I never was blessed with a wife. When I am sick I have totrust to hired attendance. In that respect I am not so fortunate asyour husband; I am only an old bachelor."
"Oh, ain't you, sir?" said Mrs. Mollett; "and perhaps it's best so.It ain't all married people that are the happiest."
The daughter during this time was sitting intent on her work, notlifting her face from the shirt she was sewing. But an observer mighthave seen from her forehead and eye that she was not only listeningto what was said, but thinking and meditating on the scene beforeher.
"Well, Mr. Mollett," said Mr. Prendergast, "you at any rate are notan old bachelor." Mr. Mollett still looked piteously at him, but saidnothing. It may be thought that in all this Mr. Prendergast was morecruel than necessary, but it must be remembered that it was incumbenton him to bring the poor wretch before him down absolutely on hismarrow-bones. Mollett must be made to confess his sin, and own thatthis woman before him was his real wife; and the time for mercy hadnot commenced till that had been done.
And then his daughter spoke, seeing how things were going with him."Father," said she, "this gentleman has called because he has had aletter from Abraham Mollett; and he was speaking about what Abrahamhas been doing in Ireland."
"Oh dear, oh dear!" said poor Mollett. "The unfortunate young man;that wretched, unfortunate, young man! He will bring me to the graveat last--to the grave at last."
"Come, Mr. Mollett," said Mr. Prendergast, now getting up andstanding with his back to the fire, "I do not know that you and Ineed beat about the bush much longer. I suppose I may speak openlybefore these ladies as to what has been taking place in county Cork."
"Sir!" said Mr. Mollett, with a look of deprecation about his mouththat ought to have moved the lawyer's heart.
"I know nothing about it," said Mrs. Mollett, very stiffly.
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nbsp; "Yes, mother, we do know something about it; and the gentleman mayspeak out if it so pleases him. It will be better, father, for youthat he should do so."
"Very well, my dear," said Mr. Mollett, in the lowest possible voice;"whatever the gentleman likes--only I do hope--" and he uttered adeep sigh, and gave no further expression to his hopes or wishes.
"I presume, in the first place," began Mr. Prendergast, "that thislady here is your legal wife, and this younger lady your legitimatedaughter? There is no doubt I take it as to that?"
"Not--any--doubt--in the world, sir," said the Mrs. Mollett, whoclaimed to be so de jure. "I have got my marriage lines to show, sir.Abraham's mother was dead just six months before we came together;and then we were married just six months after that."
"Well, Mr. Mollett; I suppose you do not wish to contradict that?"
"He can't, sir, whether he wish it or not," said Mrs. Mollett.
"Could you show me that--that marriage certificate?" asked Mr.Prendergast.
Mrs. Mollett looked rather doubtful as to this. It may be, that muchas she trusted in her husband's reform, she did not wish to let himknow where she kept this important palladium of her rights.
"It can be forthcoming, sir, whenever it may be wanted," said MaryMollett the younger; and then Mr. Prendergast, seeing what waspassing through the minds of the two women, did not press that matterany further.
"But I should be glad to hear from your own lips, Mr. Mollett, thatyou acknowledge the marriage, which took place at--at Fulham, I thinkyou said, ma'am?"
"At Putney, sir; at Putney parish church, in the year of our Lordeighteen hundred and fourteen."
"Ah, that was the year before Mr. Mollett went into Dorsetshire."
"Yes, sir. He didn't stay with me long, not at that time. He wentaway and left me; and then all that happened, that you know of--downin Dorsetshire, as they told me. And afterwards when he went away onhis keeping, leaving Aby behind, I took the child, and said that Iwas his aunt. There were reasons then; and I feared-- But never mindabout that, sir; for anything that I was wrong enough to say thento the contrary, I am his lawful wedded wife, and before my face hewon't deny it. And then when he was sore pressed and in trouble hecame back to me, and after that Mary here was born; and one other, aboy, who, God rest him, has gone from these troubles. And since thatit is not often that he has been with me. But now, now that he ishere, you should have pity on us, and give him another chance."
But still Mr. Mollett had said nothing himself. He sat duringall this time, wearily moving his head to and fro, as though theconversation were anything but comfortable to him. And, indeed, itcannot be presumed to have been very pleasant. He moved his headslowly and wearily to and fro; every now and then lifting up one handweakly, as though deprecating any recurrence to circumstances sodecidedly unpleasant. But Mr. Prendergast was determined that heshould speak.
"Mr. Mollett," said he, "I must beg you to say in so many words,whether the statement of this lady is correct or is incorrect. Do youacknowledge her for your lawful wife?"
"He daren't deny me, sir," said the woman, who was, perhaps, a littletoo eager in the matter.
"Father, why don't you behave like a man and speak?" said hisdaughter, now turning upon him. "You have done ill to all of us;--toso many; but now--"
"And are you going to turn against me, Mary?" he whined out, almostcrying.
"Turn against you! no, I have never done that. But look at mother.Would you let that gentleman think that she is--what I won't namebefore him? Will you say that I am not your honest-born child? Youhave done very wickedly, and you must now make what amends is in yourpower. If you do not answer him here he will make you answer in someworse place than this."
"What is it I am to say, sir?" he whined out again.
"Is this lady here your legal wife?"
"Yes, sir," said the poor man, whimpering.
"And that marriage ceremony which you went through in Dorsetshirewith Miss Wainwright was not a legal marriage?"
"I suppose not, sir."
"You were well aware at the time that you were committing bigamy?"
"Sir!"
"You knew, I say, that you were committing bigamy; that the childwhom you were professing to marry would not become your wife throughthat ceremony. I say that you knew all this at the time? Come, Mr.Mollett, answer me, if you do not wish me to have you dragged out ofthis by a policeman and taken at once before a magistrate."
"Oh, sir! be merciful to us; pray be merciful to us," said Mrs.Mollett, holding up her apron to her eyes.
"Father, why don't you speak out plainly to the gentleman? He willforgive you, if you do that."
"Am I to criminate myself, sir?" said Mr. Mollett, still in thehumblest voice in the world, and hardly above his breath.
After all, this fox had still some running left in him, Mr.Prendergast thought to himself. He was not even yet so thoroughlybeaten but what he had a dodge or two remaining at his service. "AmI to criminate myself, sir?" he asked, as innocently as a child mightask whether or no she were to stand longer in the corner.
"You may do as you like about that, Mr. Mollett," said the lawyer; "Iam neither a magistrate nor a policeman; and at the present moment Iam not acting even as a lawyer. I am the friend of a family whom youhave misused and defrauded most outrageously. You have killed thefather of that family--"
"Oh, gracious!" said Mrs. Mollett.
"Yes, madam, he has done so; and nearly broken the heart of that poorlady, and driven her son from the house which is his own. You havedone all this in order that you might swindle them out of money foryour vile indulgences, while you left your own wife and your ownchild to starve at home. In the whole course of my life I never cameacross so mean a scoundrel; and now you chaffer with me as to whetheror no you shall criminate yourself! Scoundrel and villain as youare--a double-dyed scoundrel, still there are reasons why I shall notwish to have you gibbeted, as you deserve."
"Oh, sir, he has done nothing that would come to that!" said the poorwife.
"You had better let the gentleman finish," said the daughter. "Hedoesn't mean that father will be hung."
"It would be too good for him," said Mr. Prendergast, who was nowabsolutely almost out of temper. "But I do not wish to be hisexecutioner. For the peace of that family which you have so brutallyplundered and ill used, I shall remain quiet,--if I can attain myobject without a public prosecution. But, remember, that I guaranteenothing to you. For aught I know you may be in gaol before the nightis come. All I have to tell you is this, that if by obtaining aconfession from you I am able to restore my friends to their propertywithout a prosecution, I shall do so. Now you may answer me or not,as you like."
"Trust him, father," said the daughter. "It will be best for you."
"But I have told him everything," said Mollett. "What more does hewant of me?"
"I want you to give your written acknowledgment that when youwent through that ceremony of marriage with Miss Wainwright inDorsetshire, you committed bigamy, and that you knew at that timethat you were doing so."
Mr. Mollett, as a matter of course, gave him the written document,and then Mr. Prendergast took his leave, bowing graciously to the twowomen, and not deigning to cast his eyes again on the abject wretchwho crouched by the fire.
"Don't be hard on a poor creature who has fallen so low," said Mrs.Mollett as he left the room. But Mary Mollett junior followed him tothe door and opened it for him. "Sir," she said, addressing him withsome hesitation as he was preparing to depart.
"Well, Miss Mollett; if I could do anything for you it would gratifyme, for I sincerely feel for you,--both for you and for your mother."
"Thank you, sir; I don't know that there is anything you can do forus--except to spare him. The thief on the cross was forgiven, sir."
"But the thief on the cross repented."
"And who shall say that he does not repent? You cannot tell of hisheart by scripture word, as you can of that other one. But ourLord has taught us that
it is good to forgive the worst of sinners.Tell that poor lady to think of this when she remembers him in herprayers."
"I will, Miss Mollett; indeed, indeed I will;" and then as he lefther he gave her his hand in token of respect. And so he walked awayout of Spinny Lane.
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