All of the men dismounted. Six of them followed their host into his house while the other five held all of the horses. It did not take long before the men were in a drawing room.
“Would you like tea or coffee?” Austen offered. “And please be seated.”
Once everyone had taken a seat and after the other five men had shaken their heads, Bennet replied, “Thank you, Mr Austen, but no, we enjoyed coffee before we departed my estate of Longbourn near Meryton. You are familiar with Sir William Lucas, the magistrate in our neighbourhood, are you not?” Bennet saw a nod of Mr Austen’s head. “I have a missive from him for you.” He extracted the epistle from his jacket pocket and handed it to the man.
“I am familiar with Sir William, a very jovial fellow that,” Austen responded as he accepted the letter. He sat and read, his countenance darkening as he did so. “This man was a clergyman. He deserves whatever punishment you have planned for him, and you have my consent to arrest the miscreant and move him to Meryton.”
“I thank you, Sir.” Bennet bowed his head. “Would you mind putting that in writing in case the halfwit tries to claim we are kidnapping him?”
“With pleasure.” Austen sat at an escritoire in one corner and wrote. When it was sanded and dried, he folded it and handed it to Bennet. “I affixed the magistrate’s seal under my signature. No one will question your authority to arrest the man.” He paused for a moment. “Would you like me to join you?”
“You are, of course, more than welcome to accompany us, but you are not needed in this. That being said, it is your decision,” Bennet replied.
“I see you have more than enough men, including one bigger than any I have ever beheld. As such, I will leave you to it and wish you Godspeed. I will not be sorry when such a man no longer pollutes my neighbourhood.” Austen stood and extended his hand to Bennet.
After Bennet, the other five men shook the magistrate’s hand before taking their leave.
In the drive, they mounted their horses and were soon on their way to the inn.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Collins was enjoying sleeping late when he was suddenly awakened by the sound of the door to his chamber being thrown open with force. He was about to complain loudly and indignantly when he saw his cousin’s two huge footmen bearing down on him. His eyes got as wide as saucers with the fear he felt.
‘Surely, this was a nightmare.’ Cousin Bennet would have no way of knowing he was here. That was it; it was a dream. That illusion was disproved in an instant when the men each grabbed an arm and picked him up like he weighed nothing, sending his bedclothes flying. As soon as he knew this was real, Collins relieved himself all over his nightgown.
Neither Biggs nor Johns was surprised that the snivelling man had pissed on himself. It did add to the foul odour of the man, but they cared not about that. They stood the coward up in the middle of the rug.
“Dress!” Biggs growled.
Expecting blows to be rained down on him at any moment, Collins said not a word. He went behind the screen in the corner and dressed. While he did, he cogitated. ‘Surely, my cousin is not aware of my plans, but then why are his men here? If they try to remove me from the inn, I will scream that I am being kidnapped. But will they hit me if I do?’ As hard as he tried to, Collins could not divine any answers. He decided to delay as long as he could.
“‘Urry up!” Johns barked.
Hearing the command and the implied threat of physical harm, Collins completed his dressing and stepped out frombehind the screen. Before he had a moment to think, the huge men took an arm each, and they marched him out of his room. They forced him downstairs and then half carried and half dragged him into a private parlour. It became a living nightmare at that point. In the parlour, all glaring at him were his cousin, the Earl of Matlock, Lord Hilldale, and three men he did not know.
Collins decided his only option was to bluster his way out of this. “H-how d-dare y-you s-s-s-send t-these b-brutes to k-k-kidnap m-me?” He stammered. No matter how much he tried, he could not calm his fears.
“You are not being kidnapped; you are being arrested. We have the blessing of the local magistrate to take you with us when we leave here.” He paused, trying to control his fury. “How dare you solicit someone to have my wife harmed?” Bennet growled menacingly, barely controlling his urge to place his hands around the man’s corpulent neck and squeeze the life out of him. As hard as it was, Bennet would allow justice to be done.
‘Surely not! How can my cousin know this?’ Collins thought. “That is a lie! I am a good Christian man; I would never…”
Bennet held up the page Collins had given to Wickham. “Except you did. You were even stupid enough to write your instructions. I called you a halfwit; it seems even that was an overestimation of the depths of your lack of intelligence.”
“I-I-I. I mean…” Collins attempted to come up with an excuse. He could find none.
“George Wickham, the man you planned to pay one thousand pounds in return for him murdering Mrs Bennet, has told us all, which includes handing over the instructions Bennet holds,” Matlock boomed. “His Grace should have excommunicated you. You are no Christian! In fact, I willsee that he does so before you are hanged for the crime of soliciting the murder of another. There will be no transporting you to Van Diemen’s Land.”
As soon as he heard Lord Matlock’s pronouncement, Collins lost control of his bladder once more. How was it he would hang for trying to correct a great wrong the Bennets perpetrated against the Collinses?
“I tried to tell you the truth about Longbourn and your ancestor, but you were so lost in the delusion of the lies you were told that you could not hear anything I said. I am sure that if you saw the land register, which proves beyond any doubt that a Collins never owned Longbourn, you would find a way to lie to yourself and ignore the proof before you. Just remember this when you are led to the gallows: the lies your father and others told you are what have condemned you to death. By the way, you simpleton,” Bennet added, “the mark on my wife’s cheek is a port-wine birthmark, not, as you were babbling about it being, the mark of the devil. The only true evil I know is in you.”
“Also remember this,” Matlock stated. “When, not if, the Archbishop excommunicates you, your body will be placed in an unconsecrated potter’s field.”
As the enormity of his errors became clear to him, all Collins could do was to sob. His legs would not have kept him up had the two huge men not being holding onto his arms.
Bennet nodded to his men. Biggs and Johns bound the prisoner’s wrists and gagged him. Then, as they had when they brought him to the private parlour, they half dragged, half carried the extremely overweight man to the waiting Bennet carriage. Biggs went to the other side door and while Johns pushed the reluctant criminal in, Biggs leant through the cabin and pulled the former clergyman inside. As foul as he smelt, they followed him in, making sure all windows were wide open. Soon enough, the conveyance was on its way toLongbourn with two large men—two of Mr Darcy’s toughest footmen—as escorts on horses.
Before they departed the inn, Bennet was assured by the landlord that the arrested man had paid all he owed. Thereafter, he joined the riders, which with him totalled ten, for the ride home.
