"Tell Mr. Mountjoy, I say, whatever you please, except that I am
joking. You must not tell him that. I shall call to-morrow morning, and
shall expect to find the business as good as done.
"A. V."
Mrs. Vimpany dropped the letter in dismay. Her husband had vanished out
of her life for more than two years. She hoped that she was effectually
hidden; she hoped that he had gone away to some far-off country where
he would never more return. Alas! This world of ours has no far-off
country left, and, even if the wicked man turneth away from his
wickedness so far as to go to the Rocky Mountains, an express train and
a swift boat will bring him back to his wickedness whenever he desires
a little more enjoyment and the society of his old friends.
Mr. Vimpany was back again. What should she do? What would Iris do?
What would Mr. Mountjoy do?
She read the letter again.
Two things were obvious: first, that he had no clue of the restitution;
and, next, that he had no idea of the evidence against him for the
murder of the Dane. She resolved to communicate the latter fact only.
She was braver now than she had been formerly. She saw more clearly
that the way of the wicked man is not always so easy for him. If he
knew that his crime could be brought home to him; that he would
certainly be charged with murder if he dared to show himself, or if he
asked for money, he would desist. Before such a danger the most
hardened villain would shrink.
She also understood that it was desirable to hide from him the nature
of the evidence and the name of the only witness against him. She would
calmly tell him what would happen, and bid him begone, or take the
consequences.
Yet even if he were driven off he would return. She would live
henceforth in continual apprehension of his return. Her tranquillity
was gone.
Heavens! That a man should have such power over the lives of others!
She passed the most wretched day of her whole life. She saw in
anticipation the happiness of that household broken up. She pictured
his coming, but she could not picture his departure. For she had never
seen him baffled and defeated.
He would come in, big, burly, with his farmer-like manner confident,
bullying, masterful. He would ask her what she had done; he would swear
at her when he learned that she had done nothing; he would throw
himself into the most comfortable chair, stretch out his legs, and
order her to go and fetch Mr. Mountjoy. Would she be subdued by him as
of old? Would she find the courage to stand up to him? For the sake of
Iris--yes. For the sake of the man who had been so kind to her--yes.