"Pray call early to-morrow, Mr Ramsden, and let us know how Mr Spinney is going on," said Newton, extending his hand as the surgeon rose to depart. Mr Ramsden shook it warmly, and quitted the house: he had left them about half-an-hour when Betsy made her appearance with some fomentations, which had been prepared in the kitchen. Out of revenge for sundry blows daily received, and sundry epithets hourly bestowed upon her by her mistress, the moment she entered she exclaimed, in a half-crying tone, "O dear, Mr Newton! there's such shocking news just come from the parsonage; Mr Spinney is just dead, and my missis will be hanged!"
Mrs Forster said not a word; she quailed under dread of the report being correct. Newton and his father looked at each other; their mute anguish was expressed by covering up their faces with their hands.
When Hilton and the curate arranged their plans for the mortification of Mrs Forster, it was considered advisable that Newton (who was not so easily to be imposed upon) should be removed out of the way. Hilton had already stated his intention to give him charge of the vessel; and he now proposed sending him for a cargo of shingle, which was lying ready for her, about fifty miles down the coast, and which was to be delivered at Waterford. At an early hour, on the ensuing morning, he called at Forster's house. Newton, who had not taken off his clothes, came out to meet him.
"Well, Newton, how is your mother?" said Hilton, "I hope you are not angry with me: I certainly was the occasion of the accident, but I could not bear to see your worthy father treated in that manner."
"I blush to acknowledge, Mr Hilton, that she deserved it all," replied Newton; "but I am very much alarmed about the condition of Mr Spinney. Have you heard this morning?"
"No; but between ourselves, Newton, doctors always make the worst of their cases. I never heard of a pewter-pot killing a man; he'll do well enough, never fear. I came to tell you that I've a letter last night from Repton, who says that the shingle must be delivered before the tenth of next month, or the contract will be void. He desires that I will send the sloop directly, or he must employ another craft. Now, I think you had better start at once; there's a nice fair wind for you, and you'll be down afore night."
"Why, really, Mr Hilton, I do not exactly like to leave home just now," replied Newton, thoughtfully.
"Well, as you please, Mr Forster," rejoined Hilton, with apparent displeasure. "I have offered you the command of the vessel, and now you object to serve my interests on the very first occasion, merely because there are a couple of broken heads!"
"I am wrong, most certainly," replied Newton; "I beg your pardon—I will just speak a word or two to my father, and be on board in less than half an hour."
"I will meet you there," said Hilton, "and bring your papers. Be as quick as you can, or you'll lose the first of the tide."
Newton returned to the house; his father made no objection to his departure; and, in fulfilment of his promise, Newton was ready to start, when he encountered Ramsden at the door.
"Mr Ramsden," said Newton, "I am requested by the owner of my vessel to sail immediately; but if you think that the life of Mr Spinney is seriously in danger, I will throw up the command of the vessel, rather than leave my mother under such an accumulation of disasters. I beg as a favour that you will not disguise the truth."
"You may sail this minute, if you please, Mr Forster; I am happy to be able to relieve your mind. Mr Spinney is doing very well, and you'll see him at his desk on the first Sunday of your return."
"Then I am off: good-bye, Mr Ramsden; many thanks."
With a lightened heart, Newton leapt into the skiff which was to carry him on board of the sloop; and in less than half an hour was standing away to the southward before a fine wind, to execute the orders which he had received.
Ramsden remained a few minutes at the door, until he saw Newton ascend the side of the vessel; then he entered, and was received by Betsy.
"Well, Betsy, you agreed to make Mrs Forster believe that Mr Spinney was dead; but we little thought that such would really be the case."
"Lord love you, sir! why, you don't say so?"
"I do, indeed, Betsy; but mind, we must keep it a secret for the present, until we can get Mrs Forster out of the way. How is she this morning?"
"Oh, very stiff, and very cross, sir."
"I'll go up to her," replied Ramsden; "but recollect, Betsy, that you do not mention it to a soul;" and Ramsden ascended the stairs.
"Well, Mrs Forster, how do you feel this morning? do you think you could get up?"
"Get up, Mr Ramsden! not to save my soul—I can't even turn on my side."
"Very sorry to hear it, indeed," replied the surgeon; "I was in hopes that you might have been able to bear a journey."
"Bear a journey, Mr Ramsden! why bear a journey?"
"I am sorry to inform you that Mr Spinney's gone—poor old man! There must be a coroner's inquest. Now, it would be as well if you were not to be found, for the verdict will be 'Wilful Murder.'"
"O dear! O dear!" exclaimed Mrs Forster, jumping out of her bed with fright, and wringing her hands: "What can I do?—what can I do?"
"At present it is a secret, Mrs Forster, but it cannot be so long. Miss Dragwell, who feels for you very much, begged me not to say a word about it. She will call and consult with you, if you would like to see her. Sad thing indeed, Mrs Forster, to be placed in such a situation by a foolish husband."
"You may well say that, Mr Ramsden," replied the lady, with asperity; "he is the greatest fool that ever God made! Everyone knows what a sweet temper I was before I married; but flesh and blood cannot bear what I am subjected to."
"Would you like to see Miss Dragwell?"
"Yes, very much; I always thought her a very nice girl;—a little wild—a little forward indeed, and apt to be impertinent; but still, rather a nice girl."
"Well, then, I will tell her to call, and the sooner the better, for when it is known, the whole town will be in an uproar. I should not be surprised if they attacked the house—the people will be so indignant."
"I don't wonder at it," replied Mrs Forster; "nothing can excuse such provocation as I receive from my husband, stupid wretch!"
"Good morning, Mrs Forster; do you think, then, that you could bear moving?"
"O yes! O yes! But where am I to go?"
"That I really cannot form an idea of—you had better consult with Miss Dragwell. Depend upon it, Mrs Forster, that I will be most happy to render you all my assistance in this unfortunate dilemma."
"You're very good," snarled Mrs Forster: and Ramsden quitted the room.
I have one or two acquaintances, to whom, if I wish a report to be circulated, I immediately impart the substance as a most profound secret; and I find that by these means it obtains a much more extensive circulation than if I sent it to the newspapers.
Ramsden was aware of Betsy's cackling propensities; and long before he quitted Mrs Forster, it was generally believed throughout the good town of Overton that Mr Spinney, although he had not been killed outright, as reported in the first instance, had subsequently died of the injuries received from this modern Xantippe.
Mrs Forster had half an hour to reflect upon her supposed awkward situation; and to drive away thought, had sent for Nicholas, whom she loaded with the bitterest invectives, when Miss Dragwell was announced.
"See, sir," continued Mrs Forster, "the condition to which you have reduced a fond and faithful wife—one that has so studied your interests; one—"
"Yes, indeed," added Miss Dragwell, who heard the attack as she ascended the stairs, and took up the cause of Mrs Forster to obtain her confidence—"yes, indeed, Mr Forster, see the consequences of your folly, your smoking, and your drinking. Pray leave the room, sir; I wonder how Mrs Forster can bear the sight of you!"
Nicholas stated, and was about to throw in a detached word or two, by way of vindication, when a furious