He did not move.
Vesta stooped and raised her father's face to find some solution of his
mysterious evasion. He shut his eyes as if she burned him with her
wondering look.
"Papa, look at me this instant! You shall not be a coward to me."
He broke from her hands and retreated to a window, looking at her, but
with a timorous countenance.
"I wish you to go this moment and find your creditor, Mr. Milburn, and
bring him to me. You must obey me, sir!"
The father raised his hands as if to protest, but before he could speak
a shadow fell upon the window, and the figure of a small, swarthy man
covered with a steeple-crowned hat advanced up the front steps.
"Saviour, have mercy!" murmured Judge Custis, "the wolf is at the door."
Vesta took her father in her arms, and kissed him once assuringly.
"Papa, go send a servant to open the door. Have Mr. Milburn shown into
this room to await me. Do you go and engage my mother affectionately,
and both of you remain in your chamber till I am ready to call you."
The proximity of the dreadful creditor had almost paralyzed Judge
Custis, and he glided out like a ghost.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE HAT FINDS A RACK.
Meshach Milburn had locked the store after writing some letters, and had
taken the broad street for Judge Custis's gate. The news of his
disappearance towards the Furnace, with an extravagant livery team, had
spread among all the circle around the principal tavern, and they were
discussing the motive and probabilities of the act, with that deep inner
ignorance so characteristic of an instinctive society.
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