"Oh, that's easy to say, isn't it?"

"It's the truth."

"It's a lie--and you know it."

"Will you moderate your language?" said Bence. "Gentlemen, I beg your support. This lady must be protected from insult."

But the attention of Marsden and his wife was so entirely concentrated on each other that neither of them seemed to hear the interruption.

"Richard, don't go on like this--don't force me to say unkind things which I shall regret later."

"I knew there was some infernal mystery at the bottom of our troubles.

But, by Jove, I never guessed that it was _you_ who'd played false."

"Richard, don't abuse me."

"Abuse you? I shan't waste breath on abusing you. You have cheated me--or you've _tried_ to cheat me. For I'm not going to let you;" and he turned towards the others. "Take notice, all of you, that I shan't submit to this. Prentice, do you understand? You were always hostile to me. I suppose you helped to hatch this plot."

Mr. Prentice was looking so absolutely bewildered that his face should have been sufficient proof of his innocence.

"No," he said feebly. "All this has come upon me as a complete surprise."

"Then you, Mr. Collins--understand it's all mighty fine, but it won't wash."

"Won't it?" said Collins.

"No, I don't allow myself to be cheated--even by my wife."

"Richard," said Mrs. Marsden, "don't call me a cheat again."

"You there--Bence--take notice. I'll bring you to account for this. I'm not the sort to be tricked and fooled by any little swine that gets plotting with my wife. No, not if I know it. Cheating people is very clever, but--"

Mrs. Marsden sprang up from her chair by the wall.

"How dare you call me a cheat?"

Her eyes were blazing. She had clenched her fists; and, trembling with pa.s.sion, she came to the table and faced her husband.

"What have you ever given me in exchange for all I gave you--except shame and sorrow?"

"I'm not going to listen to your yelling and--"

"I gave you my love, and you trampled on it--I gave you my home, and you polluted it--I gave you the work of my life, and you pulled it to pieces before my eyes. Yet still I was true and loyal to you. I could have divorced you, and I wouldn't do it. I promised you that I'd hold to you till you yourself consented to set me free; and I kept my promise. You were a liar--but I respected your words. You were a thief--but I dealt with you as if you had been an honest man. I fed and clothed you when you were well, I nursed you when you were sick--I hid your crimes, I sheltered you from their consequences. At this minute I am keeping you out of the prison that is your only proper place.... And yet--great G.o.d--he has the audacity to say that I am cheating him!"

And then Mrs. Marsden, shaking in excitement and anger, went back to her chair and sat down.

"You asked for that," said Collins, with renewed facetiousness, "and you got it."

Bence was looking out of the window; and he whistled and gently clapped his hands, as if applauding the pa.s.sionate force of Mrs. Marsden's unexpected tirade.

"I don't know what she means," said Marsden hoa.r.s.ely. "And I dare say she doesn't know, herself." He had been staggered by his wife's attack; and at her last words he recoiled from the table, as if suddenly daunted, almost cowed. Now he was pulling himself together again. "Who cares what a woman says?" And he cleared his throat, and spoke loudly and defiantly. "I don't, for one."

"Richard," murmured Mrs. Marsden, in a still tremulous voice. "I'm sorry I said it."

"All right. That's enough.... But now, if you please, we men will talk;"

and he looked from one to another. The veins showed redly on his forehead; his glistening jaw was protruded; and he squared his huge shoulders pugnaciously. "I tell you, once for all, I'm not going to stand any d.a.m.ned rot. As to the sale--Mr. Clever Bence,--I repudiate it utterly. It was obtained under false pretences, and I'll have it set aside. As to the separation--I'm speaking to you, Prentice,--that bargain falls through with the other.... And to show you what I think of it--I am now going to tear up the deed."

"Oh no, you're not," said Collins.

"I warn you all," said Marsden furiously: "if anyone touches me, he'll be sorry for it. Now, Prentice, fetch out your deed again. You shoved it away in that safe, didn't you? Well, out with it." And he moved to the side of Mr. Prentice, and stood over him threateningly. "Out with it--d'you hear?"

Bence and Collins had both begun to clap their hands loudly. And with this noisy applause other sounds were mingling. Mr. Prentice, as he rose to confront Marsden, heard quick footsteps in the pa.s.sage. The door was abruptly opened, and two policemen came into the room.

"This way, officers," said Collins pompously. "You are just in time to prevent a breach of the peace. There's your man--keep your eyes on him."

Marsden, turning hurriedly, saw the two uniforms and helmets solemnly advance, and showed a craven dissatisfaction at the sight.

"What are you up to now?" he asked glumly.

But Collins, ignoring the question, continued to talk pompously to the new arrivals.

"As I told your superintendent, he is a dangerous character. He has been threatening us with a.s.sault and battery--but we do not wish to give him in charge, if we can help it. Your presence will probably be sufficient to restrain him."

"Very good, sir."

"He is the same man who made the disturbance at the Red Cow--and I think he has been charged once or twice as a drunk and disorderly."

"You needn't introduce him so carefully," said Bence, with a sn.i.g.g.e.r.

"Mr. Marsden is already well known to the police."

"Yes, Mr. Bence," said one of the policemen, "_we_ know the gent."

"Very well," continued Collins, with the air of a magistrate presiding over a crowded court. "He is leaving the town to-night--forever,--and I shall ask for a constable to see him off. From the mayor down to the humblest citizen, Mallingbridge is tired of him--so he is going to the western states of America. He will be more at home among the desperados of some mining camp than he can be in a peaceful hum-drum town like this." And Mr. Collins turned to Marsden, as though haranguing the prisoner. "Now, sir, will you behave yourself, and let us finish our conversation quietly and decently?"

"Oh, you can finish your chin-music in any tune you like." Marsden growled this out; but the voice was heavy and dejected, altogether lacking in animation. Very obviously the arrival of the police had crushed his spirit.

"So be it," said Collins. "Then I think, officers, that will do. You may safely leave us for the moment. But please wait outside the door, to protect us if necessary."

"Yes," said Bence, "we'll give you the same signal, if you're wanted again."

"All right, Mr. Bence."

And the policemen left the room. To their eyes the famous Mr. Bence was the natural chieftain of any a.s.semblage, no matter how pompously anybody else talked. Here, they were at his service, detailed for Bence's just as much as if it had been a sale day and they and their mates were regulating the traffic in front of the shop.

"Now," said Collins, with a change of manner, and speaking in a conciliatory if argumentative tone, "we can pick up our little debate.

Mr. Marsden, come now, after all, what is this fuss about?"

Marsden laughed; but his laughter was dull and spiritless.