When they were gone, I went down on my knees to Milor; told him we were
going to pawn everything, and begged and prayed him to give me two
hundred pounds. He pish'd and psha'd in a fury--told me not to be such
a fool as to pawn--and said he would see whether he could lend me the
money. At last he went away, promising that he would send it me in the
morning: when I will bring it to my poor old monster with a kiss from
his affectionate BECKY I am writing in bed. Oh I have such a headache and such a heartache!
When Rawdon read over this letter, he turned so red and looked so
savage that the company at the table d'hote easily perceived that bad
news had reached him. All his suspicions, which he had been trying to
banish, returned upon him. She could not even go out and sell her
trinkets to free him. She could laugh and talk about compliments paid
to her, whilst he was in prison. Who had put him there? Wenham had
walked with him. Was there.... He could hardly bear to think of what
he suspected. Leaving the room hurriedly, he ran into his own--opened
his desk, wrote two hurried lines, which he directed to Sir Pitt or
Lady Crawley, and bade the messenger carry them at once to Gaunt
Street, bidding him to take a cab, and promising him a guinea if he was
back in an hour.
In the note he besought his dear brother and sister, for the sake of
God, for the sake of his dear child and his honour, to come to him and
relieve him from his difficulty. He was in prison, he wanted a hundred
pounds to set him free--he entreated them to come to him.
He went back to the dining-room after dispatching his messenger and
called for more wine. He laughed and talked with a strange
boisterousness, as the people thought. Sometimes he laughed madly at
his own fears and went on drinking for an hour, listening all the while
for the carriage which was to bring his fate back.
At the expiration of that time, wheels were heard whirling up to the
gate--the young janitor went out with his gate-keys. It was a lady
whom he let in at the bailiff's door.
"Colonel Crawley," she said, trembling very much. He, with a knowing
look, locked the outer door upon her--then unlocked and opened the
inner one, and calling out, "Colonel, you're wanted," led her into the
back parlour, which he occupied.
Rawdon came in from the dining-parlour where all those people were
carousing, into his back room; a flare of coarse light following him
into the apartment where the lady stood, still very nervous.
"It is I, Rawdon," she said in a timid voice, which she strove to
render cheerful. "It is Jane." Rawdon was quite overcome by that kind
voice and presence. He ran up to her--caught her in his arms--gasped
out some inarticulate words of thanks and fairly sobbed on her
shoulder. She did not know the cause of his emotion.