He was a strong man, accustomed to restrain himself, and suppresshis strong emotions; but this preparation for what was to follow- though he had seen that fire burning, and knew that his house mustbe razed to the ground--was more than he could bear. He coveredhis face with his hands for a moment, and turned away his head.
"Johnny, Johnny," said Solomon--and the simple-hearted fellowcried outright, and wrung his hands--"Oh dear old Johnny, here"s achange! That the Maypole bar should come to this, and we shouldlive to see it! The old Warren too, Johnny--Mr Haredale--oh,Johnny, what a piteous sight this is!"
Pointing to Mr Haredale as he said these words, little SolomonDaisy put his elbows on the back of Mr Willet"s chair, and fairlyblubbered on his shoulder.
While Solomon was speaking, old John sat, mute as a stock-fish,staring at him with an unearthly glare, and displaying, by everypossible symptom, entire and complete unconsciousness. But whenSolomon was silent again, John followed,with his great round eyes,the direction of his looks, and did appear to have some dawningdistant notion that somebody had come to see him.
"You know us, don"t you, Johnny?" said the little clerk, rappinghimself on the breast. "Daisy, you know--Chigwell Church--bell ringer--little desk on Sundays--eh, Johnny?"
Mr Willet reflected for a few moments, and then muttered, as itwere mechanically: "Let us sing to the praise and glory of--"
"Yes, to be sure," cried the little man, hastily; "that"s it-that"sme, Johnny. You"re all right now, an"t you? Say you"re allright, Johnny."
"All right?" pondered Mr Willet, as if that were a matter entirelybetween himself and his conscience. "All right? Ah!"
"They haven"t been misusing you with sticks, or pokers, or anyother blunt instruments--have they, Johnny?" asked Solomon, with avery anxious glance at Mr Willet"s head. "They didn"t beat you,did they?"
John knitted his brow; looked downwards, as if he were mentallyengaged in some arithmetical calculation; then upwards, as if thetotal would not come at his call; then at Solomon Daisy, from hiseyebrow to his shoe-buckle; then very slowly round the bar. Andthen a great, round, leaden-looking, and not at all transparenttear, came rolling out of each eye, and he said, as he shook his head:
"If they"d only had the goodness to murder me, I"d have thanked "emkindly."
"No, no, no, don"t say that, Johnny," whimpered his little friend.
"It"s very, very bad, but not quite so bad as that. No, no!"
"Look"ee here, sir!" cried John, turning his rueful eyes on MrHaredale, who had dropped on one knee, and was hastily beginning tountie his bonds. "Look"ee here, sir! The very Maypole--the olddumb Maypole--stares in at the winder, as if it said, "John Willet,John Willet, let"s go and pitch ourselves in the nighest pool ofwater as is deep enough to hold us; for our day is over!""
"Don"t, Johnny, don"t," cried his friend: no less affected withthis mournful effort of Mr Willet"s imagination, than by thesepulchral tone in which he had spoken of the Maypole. "Pleasedon"t, Johnny!"
"Your loss is great, and your misfortune a heavy one," said MrHaredale, looking restlessly towards the door: "and this is not atime to comfort you. If it were, I am in no condition to do so.
Before I leave you, tell me one thing, and try to tell me plainly,I implore you. Have you seen, or heard of Emma?"
"No!" said Mr Willet.
"Nor any one but these bloodhounds?"
"No!"
"They rode away, I trust in Heaven, before these dreadful scenesbegan," said Mr Haredale, who, between his agitation, his eagernessto mount his horse again, and the dexterity with which the cordswere tied, had scarcely yet undone one knot. "A knife, Daisy!"
"You didn"t," said John, looking about, as though he had lost hispocket-handkerchief, or some such slight article--"either of yougentlemen--see a--a coffin anywheres, did you?"
"Willet!" cried Mr Haredale. Solomon dropped the knife, andinstantly becoming limp from head to foot, exclaimed "Goodgracious!"
"--Because," said John, not at all regarding them, "a dead man called a little time ago, on his way yonder. I could have told youwhat name was on the plate, if he had brought his coffin with him,and left it behind. If he didn"t, it don"t signify."
His landlord, who had listened to these words with breathlessattention, started that moment to his feet; and, without a word,drew Solomon Daisy to the door, mounted his horse, took him upbehind again, and flew rather than galloped towards the pile ofruins, which that day"s sun had shone upon, a stately house. MrWillet stared after them, listened, looked down upon himself tomake quite sure that he was still unbound, and, without anymanifestation of impatience, disappointment, or surprise, gentlyrelapsed into the condition from which he had so imperfectlyrecovered.